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2. Traditional vocal musics.

ALEXANDRA LAEDERICH

Ibert, Jacques

WORKS

dramatic

operas

Persée et Andromède, ou Le plus heureux des trois (2, Nino, after J. Laforgue), 1921, Paris, 15 May 1929

Angélique (farce, 1, Nino), 1926, Paris, 28 Jan 1927

Le roi d'Yvetot (oc, 4, J. Limozin, A. de la Tourrasse), 1927–8, Paris, 6 Jan 1930

Gonzague (ob, 1, R. Kerdick, after P. Veber), 1930, Monte Carlo, 17 Dec 1931

L'aiglon (drame musical, 5, H. Cain, after E. Rostand), 1936, collab. Honegger, Monte Carlo, 11 March 1937

Les petites cardinal (opérette, 2, A. Willemetz, P. Brach, after L. Halévy), 1937, collab. Honegger, Paris, 26 Jan 1938

Barbe-bleue (opéra-bouffe radiophonique, W. Aguet), 1943

ballets

Valse, for L'éventail de Jeanne, 1927, collab. Auric, Delannoy, Ferroud, Milhaud, Poulenc, Ravel, Roland-Manuel, Roussel, Schmitt, Paris, 16 June 1927

Diane de Poitiers (3 scenes, E. de Gramont), 1934, Paris, 30 April 1934

Le chevalier errant (épopée chorégraphique, 4 scenes, E. de Gramont, after Cervantes, text by A. Arnoux), 1935–6, Paris, 26 April 1950

Les amours de Jupiter (5 scenes, B. Kochno), 1945, Paris, 9 March 1946

La licorne (The Triumph of Chastity) (R. Page), 1949–50, Chicago, 12 Dec 1954

incidental music

Le jardinier de Samos (C. Vildrac), 1924; On ne saurait pas penser à tout (G. d'Houville), 1928; Un chapeau de paille d'Italie (E. Labiche), 1929; La Castiglione (R. Gignoux), 1929; Le stratagème des Roués (M.C. Weyer, after G. Farquhar), 1930; Donogoo (J. Romains), 1930; Le médecin de son honneur (A. Arnoux, after Calderón), 1935; Quatorze juillet (R. Rolland), ov., 1936, collab. Auric, Honegger, Koechlin, Lazarus, Milhaud, Roussel; Le chandelier (A. de Musset), 1936; Liberté (several authors), 1937, collab. Honegger, Milhaud and others; Effervescence (A. Capri), Un poète dans la rue (S. Mallarmé), Méphisto et Palmyre (A. Capri), Humulus le muet (J. Anouilh), 1942, collab. Auric, Kosma, Sauguet; Le songe d'une nuit d'été (W. Shakespeare), 1942; Antoine et Cléopâtre (A. Gide, after Shakespeare), 1945; Charivari-Courteline, 1946, collab. Auric, Barraine, Delvincourt, Gérard, Milhaud, Sauguet; Le cavalier de fer (A. Arnoux), 1946; Le burlador (S. Lifar), 1946

film scores; selective list

S.O.S. Foch (J. Arroy), 1931; Les cinq gentlemen maudits (J. Duvivier), 1931; Don Quichotte (G.W. Pabst), 1932; Justin de Marseille (M. Tourneur), 1935; Golgotha (Duvivier), 1935; Le coupable (R. Bernard), 1936; L'homme de nulle part (Feu Mathias Pascal) (P. Chenal, after L. Pirandello), 1937; Le héros de la Marne (A. Hugon), 1939; Les petites du quai au fleurs (M. Allégret), 1944; Macbeth (Welles), 1948; Circus (ballet for Invitation to the Dance, G. Kelly), 1952; Marianne de ma jeunesse (Duvivier), 1954

other works

Fête nationale (music for festival of water and light), Paris, 1937; La tragique histoire du docteur Faust (radio score, G. Boissy, after C. Marlowe), 1942; Don Quichotte de la Manche (radio score, W. Aguet), 1947; Les aventures de Brrô et Tiss (radio score, Aguet), 1949; A toutes les gloires de la France (music for son-et-lumière, A. Maurois, J. Cocteau), Versailles, 1953; Mille ans d’histoire de France (music for son-et-lumière, A. Chamson), Vincennes, 1954

orchestral

La ballade de la geôle de Reading, 1921; Persée et Andromède, sym. suite, 1921; Escales, 1922; Féerique, 1924; Les rencontres, 1924; Conc., vc, wind, 1925; Divertissement, chbr orch, 1929–30 [from Un chapeau de paille d'Italie]; Aria, small orch, 1930; Suite symphonique: ‘Paris', 1930 [from Donogoo]; Symphonie marine, 1931; Fl Conc., 1932–3; Diane de Poitiers, 2 suites symphoniques, 1934; Le chevalier errant, suite symphonique, 1935; Concertino da camera, a sax, 11 insts, 1935

Golgotha, suite symphonique, 1935; Capriccio, 10 insts, 1938; Ouverture de fête, 1940; Suite élisabéthaine, female vv, orch, 1942 [from Le songe d'une nuit d'été]; Les amours de Jupiter, suite symphonique, 1945; Macbeth, suite symphonique, 1948; Symphonie concertante, ob, str, 1948–9; La licorne, suite symphonique, 1950; Louisville-concert, 1953; Bostoniana, 1955; Bacchanale, 1956; Hommage à Mozart, 1956; Tropismes pour des amours imaginaires, 1957

vocal

songs

for 1v, pf unless otherwise stated

Huit mélodies (1909–10) [under pseud. William Berty]

Le premier baiser, La chanson des flots, Pour une blonde, Un coryza récalcitrant (1909–10)

Deux mélodies, 1910: Le jardin du ciel (Mendès), Chanson (Maeterlinck)

Trois chansons de Charles Vildrac, 1921, also orchd: Elle était venue, Après minuit, Comme elle a les yeux bandés

La verdure dorée (T. Derême), 1923: Comme j'allais, Tiède azur, Cette grande chambre, Personne ne saura jamais

Chant de folie (P. Vallery-Radot), 1924, also for 6 solo vv, chorus, orch

Deux stèles orientées (Segalen), 1v, fl, 1925

Quatre chants, 1926–7: Romance (Jean-Aubry), Mélancolie (P. Chabaneix), Familière (Chabaneix), Fête nationale (Chabaneix)

Vocalise, 1927

Chanson du rien, from Le stratagème des roués, 1930, also with wind qnt

Aria, 1930, also for 2vv/(1v, fl, pf)

Chansons de Don Quichotte et Chanson de Sancho, 1932 [from film score], also orchd: Chanson du départ (Ronsard), Chanson à Dulcinée (A. Arnoux), Chanson du duc (Arnoux), Chanson de la mort (Arnoux), Chanson de Sancho (Arnoux and P. Morand)

Maternité, 1935 [from film]

Chanson de Fortunio, from Le chandelier, 1936, also orchd

Le petit âne blanc (P. Lorys), 1940 [after Histoires no.2], also orchd

Deux chansons de Melpomène, 1943 [from Barbe-bleue], also with hpd

Complainte de Florinde, Berceuse de Galiane, 1946 [from Le cavalier de fer], also orchd

other works

Le poète et la fée (cant., J. Portron), 1919; Canzone madrigalesca, 2 solo vv, pf, 1921; 2 chants de carnaval (Machiavelli), 3 solo vv, 1924; La berceuse du petit Zébu, ou Les fleurs des champs (both Nino), female/children's chorus 3vv, 1936; Quintette de la peur, 5 solo vv, pf, 1943 [from Barbe-bleu]

chamber and instrumental

for 3 or more insts

Souvenir, str qt, pf, 1916; 2 mouvements, (2 fl)/(fl, ob), cl, bn, 1922; Le jardinier de Samos, suite, fl, cl, tpt, perc, vn, vc, 1924; 3 pièces brèves, wind qnt, 1930; Aria, pf trio, 1930; Pastoral, 4 pipes, 1934; 5 pièces en trio, ob, cl, bn, 1935; Str Qt, 1937–42; Trio, vn, vc, hp, 1943–4; 2 interludes suivi de Carillon, fl, vn, hpd/hp, 1946 [from Le Burlador]

for 2 insts

Morceau de lecture, bn, pf, 1921; Jeux, fl/vn, pf, 1923; Aria, fl/A-cl/a sax/bn/vn/va/vc, pf, 1930; Allegro scherzando, from Fl Conc., fl, pf, 1934; L'âge d'or, sax, pf, 1935 [from Le chevalier errant]; Entracte, fl/vn, hp/gui, 1935 [from Le médecin de son honneur]; Paraboles, 2 gui, 1935 [from Le médecin de son honneur]; Impromptu, tpt, pf, 1951; Carignane, bn, pf, 1953

for pf

Harmonie du soir, 1908; La forêt, 1913; Noël en Picardie, 1914; Le vent dans les ruines, 1915; Pièce romantique, 1916; Scherzetto, 1916; Matin sur l'eau, 1917; Histoires, 1922 [nos.1, 2, 4, 8 and 10 for pf 4 hands]; Les rencontres, 1924; Française, 1926; Toccata sur le nom d'Albert Roussel, 1929; L'espiègle au village de Lilliput, 1937; Petite suite en 15 images, 1943

Also reductions of several orch works

other solo instrumental

3 pièces, org, 1917; 6 pièces, hp, 1917; Choral, org, 1918; Française, gui, 1926; Ariette, gui, 1935 [from Le médecin de son honneur]; Pièce, fl, 1936; Etude-caprice pour un ‘Tombeau de Chopin’, vc, 1949; Caprilena, vn, 1951; Ghirlarzana, vc, 1951

cadenzas

For Mozart: Bn Conc., 1938; Cl Conc., 1950

Principal publishers: Billaudet, Choudens, Durand, Heugel, Leduc, Salabert, Peters

Ibert, Jacques

BIBLIOGRAPHY

A. Hoérée: ‘Jacques Ibert’, ReM, x/7–9 (1928–9), 97–115

J. Bruyr: L'écran des musiciens (Paris, 1930)

R. Dumesnil: La musique contemporaine en France, ii (Paris, 1930)

P. Landormy: La musique française après Debussy (Paris, 1943, 2/1948)

R. Dumesnil: La musique en France entre les deux guerres (Paris, 1946)

G. Samazeuilh: Musiciens de mon temps (Paris, 1947)

G. Favre: Musiciens français contemporains (Paris, 1956)

J. Feschotte: Jacques Ibert (Paris, 1958)

G. Auric: Notice sur la vie et les travaux de Jacques Ibert (Paris, 1963)

H.G. Farmer: Studies in Oriental Musical Instruments (Glasgow, 1939), 93–4

E. Neubauer: ‘Der Bau der Laute und ihre Besaitung nach arabischen, persischen und türkischen Quellen des 9. bis 15. Jahrhunderts’, Zeitschrift für Geschichte der arabisch-islamischen Wissenschaften, viii (1993), 279–378

E. Neubauer: ‘Die acht “Wege” der Musiklehre und der Oktoechos’, Zeitschrift für Geschichte der arabisch-islamischen Wissenschaften, ix (1994), 373–414

OWEN WRIGHT

Ibn Bājja [Avenpace]

(b Zaragoza, north Spain; d Fez, Morocco, c1139). Philosopher, administrator and composer. He spent much of his life, first in Zaragoza and then in Játiva, south Spain, as vizier to various Almoravid governors, and later moved to Fez.

His Kitāb fī al-nafs (‘Book on the soul’) deals with acoustics. He is also reported to have written a substantial treatise on music that could stand comparison with that of al-Fārābī, but this, unfortunately, has not survived. However, his reputation as a composer stayed alive for some considerable time, and his songs are still mentioned by Ibn Khaldūn (1332–1406). He was also a dexterous ‘ūd player. The fullest, if still succinct, account of his achievements is provided by al-Tīfāshī (d 1253), according to whom he studied for several years with female professional musicians (qiyān) and subsequently introduced two important innovations. One resulted in improvements to two of the important song forms, while the other, more general, is intriguingly characterized as a fusion of ‘Christian’ and ‘Eastern’ song. The resulting synthesis was to establish itself as the dominant style in Muslim Spain, effacing that of the earlier school of Ziryāb.

WRITINGS

Kitāb fī al-nafs [Book on the soul] (MS, D-Bsb 5061)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

EI2 (D.M. Dunlop)

B.M. Liu and J.T. Monroe: Ten Hispano-Arabic Strophic Songs in the Modern Aural Tradition (Berkeley, 1989)

OWEN WRIGHT

Ibn Rushd [Abū l-Walīd Muhammad; Averroes]

(b Córdoba, 1126; d Marrakech, 10 Dec 1198). Arab philosopher, lawyer and judge. He studied law and medicine, although philosophy and mathematics interested him more. From 1153 onwards he held important positions as judge and vizier at the courts of Muslim Spain (Seville and Córdoba) and Morocco (Marrakech). As a philosopher he had great influence on Christian Europe; his commentaries on Aristotle’s writings were studied by European scholars for nearly 400 years. His influence on European musical theory was mainly through his Sharh (or Talkhīs) fī l-nafs li-Aristūtālis (‘Commentary on Aristotle’s De anima’), of which the section on the theory of sound was particularly important. The commentary was soon afterwards translated into Latin and Hebrew. The first printed Latin text appeared in Padua in 1472; by 1600 there were approximately 100 editions.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

EI2 (R. Arnaldez)

N. Morata: El compendio de anima (Madrid, 1934)

based on MGG1 (i, 894–5) by permission of Bärenreiter

H.G. FARMER/R

Ibn Sīnā [Abū ‘Alī al-Husayn; Avicenna]

(b nr Bukhara, 980; d Hamadan,1037). Persian philosopher, administrator and physician. Educated in Bukhara, he was a student of such precocity that he had mastered the whole range of traditional sciences by the age of 18. He led an eventful life of fluctuating fortunes as a minister and adviser to various rulers, but enjoyed in his later years a period of relative peace at Isfahan. One of the great intellectual figures of Islam, he became known as Avicenna in the West, where his philosophical and medical works, notably the authoritative Qānūn fī al-tibb (‘Canon on medicine’), exerted considerable influence.

Ibn Sīnā’s main contribution to the development of musical theory is contained in the Kitāb al-shifā’ (‘The book of healing’), an encyclopedia in which music is classed as one of the mathematical sciences (quadrivium). His general approach is similar to that of al-Fārābī, but the treatment, while necessarily terser, is sometimes more logical in its organization. The introduction dismisses the doctrine of ethos and discusses the nature of sound as both functional and expressive. The goal of the science of music is defined as knowledge of compositional procedures, and the first of the two main sections, fundamentally abstract and analytical, deals with pitch organization: notes, intervals (defined by ratios and ranked by degrees of consonance), tetrachord species and combinations thereof within the Greater Perfect System. The second is concerned with rhythm and, taking al-Fārābī’s account as its model, provides a schematic outline of possible structures; it is only towards the end that reference is made to those in current use. A briefer third section deals with processes of composition and with instruments; this introduces organological distinctions between, for example, ways of mounting strings or the presence or absence of a reed, and discusses the fretting of the lute. It also includes a valuable list – albeit one not always easy to interpret – of the more important melodic modes.

WRITINGS

Kitāb al-shifā’ [The book of healing] (MS, GB-Lbl Oriental 11190); Fr. trans. in La musique arabe, ed. R. d’Erlanger, ii (Paris, 1935), 105–245; ed. Z. Yūsuf: Kitāb al-shifā’, al-riyādiyyāt 3: jawāmi‘ ‘ilm al-mūsīqī (Cairo, 1956); ed. Z. Yūsuf: Kitāb al-shifā’, al-riyādiyyāt 3: jawāmi‘ ‘ilm al-mūsīqī (Cairo, 1956)

Kitāb al-Najāt (MS, GB-Ob Marsh 521); ed. M. El-Hefny: Ibn Sina’s Musiklehre, hauptsächlich an seinem ‘Naǧāt’ erläutert: nebst Übersetzung und Herausgabe des Musikabschnittes des ‘Naǧāt’ (diss., U. of Berlin, 1931); ed. in Majmū‘ rasā’il al-shaykh al-ra’īs [Seven short treatises], ed. Usmani Encyclopedia Committee (Hyderabad, 1935)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

EI2 (A.-M. Goichon)

C. Brockelmann: Geschichte der arabischen Litteratur, i (Weimar, 1898, 2/1943), 452ff

H.G. Farmer: ‘ The Lute Scale of Avicenna’, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society (1937), 245–58; also in H.G. Farmer: Studies in Oriental Musical Instruments, 2nd ser. (Glasgow, 1939/R), 45–57

OWEN WRIGHT

Ibn Zayla [Abū Mansūr al-Husayn ibn Muhammad ibn ‘Umar]

(d 1048). Arab theorist. A pupil of Ibn Sīnā, his one work on music, the Kitāb al-kāfī fī l-mūsīqī (‘Book of sufficiency concerning music’), is the last important surviving treatise on music before the rise of Systematist theory in the mid-13th century. In the choice and treatment of subject matter it generally follows the lines laid down by al-Fārābī and, particularly, Ibn Sīnā. It thus begins with the physics of sound, and surveys intervals, tetrachord species, octave divisions and melodic movement. The remaining subjects discussed are rhythm (treated methodically and clearly); composition (dealt with in a slightly less abstract way than was customary, with mention of a few technical devices and different categories of song); and instruments (including a classification scheme as well as the traditional lute fretting). Following al-Fārābī, Ibn Zayla also included a general classification of means of sound production, the ordering principle being the degree of approximation to the ideal of the human voice. The Kitāb al-kāfī fī l-mūsīqī also lays considerable stress on a traditional threefold division of music emphasizing the variety of responses that different kinds of music can evoke.

WRITINGS

Kitāb al-kāfī fī l-mūsīqī [Book of sufficiency concerning music] (MS, GB-Lbl Oriental 2361); ed. Z. Yūsuf (Cairo, 1964)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

A.-M. Goichon: ‘Ibn Zayla’, The Encyclopaedia of Islam, iii (Leiden and London, 2/1971), 974 only

H.G. Farmer: The Sources of Arabian Music (Bearsden, 1940, 2/1965), 42–3

OWEN WRIGHT

Ibo music.

See Igbo music.

Ibrahim, Abdullah [Brand, Dollar; Brand, Adolph Johannes]

(b Cape Town, 9 Oct 1934). South African jazz pianist, flautist and composer. The development of his style was influenced by the work of Duke Ellington and Thelonius Monk and by South African marabi; he is known for his ballads and his skill in extended melodic invention and has released 63 recordings.

After making his name locally he moved to Zürich in 1962, attracted by its sociopolitical climate and the possibility of opportunities for performance. In Zürich Duke Ellington heard him perform; he arranged for Brand to make a recording in 1963 and to appear in the Newport Jazz Festival in 1965. Brand moved to New York, where he met Thelonius Monk; he subsequently toured Europe, performing as a soloist and with other musicians including Gato Barbieri, Don Cherry and Makaya Ntshoko.

From 1971 to 1976 he lived in South Africa, but he returned to exile in New York after defiantly organizing a jazz festival in his homeland. In the 1970s and 1980s the themes of his music and its reaffirmation of marabi showed the influence of his conversion to Islam and an intensification of his opposition to apartheid. During this period he recorded alone, in duos with Archie Schepp, Max Roach, Johnny Dyani and Carlos Ward, and as a member of small ensembles. With the Cape alto saxophonist Basil Coetzee he recorded Mannenburg, a slow version of an old Zacks Nkosi melody called Jackpot, which became an anthem of the struggle against apartheid and a classic of the Cape jazz repertory. His septet Ekhaya may be heard in most of his later recordings. He returned to South Africa in 1992.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

GroveJ (E. Hazell)

L. Rasmussen: Abdullah Ibrahim: a Discography (Denmark, 1998)

R. Allingham: ‘South African Jazz: Hip Kings, Hip Queens’, World Music: the Rough Guide, i: Africa, Europe and the Middle East (London, 1999), 660–68

recordings

A Brother with a Perfect Timing, videotape, dir. C. Austin, Rhapsody Films 8024 (New York, 1987)

LOUISE MEINTJES

Ibrāhīm al-Mawsilā.

See al-Mawsilā, (1).

Ibrahimi, Feim

(b Gjirokastra, 20 Oct 1935; d Turin, 2 Aug 1997). Albanian composer, administrator and teacher. Essentially self-taught in his early years, he became the first significant Albanian composer to study exclusively in his home country, entering the newly-founded Tirana Conservatory in 1962 and studying there with Daija until 1966. He then taught counterpoint and composition at the conservatory (1966–73), subsequently serving as sub-director of its parent body, the Superior Institute of Arts (1973–7). His most significant post was as music secretary of the Union of Albanian Writers and Artists (1977–91); he later also served as artistic director of the Theatre of Opera and Ballet, Tirana (1991–2). From 1992 until his death he taught theory and composition at the Conservatory. He founded the Evenings of New Albanian Music in 1992.

As music secretary during Albania's period of cultural isolation, Ibrahimi showed himself a capable administrator, exerting a positive influence on Albania's musical life. Though obliged by his office to defend socialist realism, during his official travels abroad he tried, as much as was possible, to keep up with international musical developments, experimenting in secret with atonality (e.g. in the Cello Sonata, 1975, rev. 1990), expressing a private interest in Xenakis as early as 1981, and inviting to Albania such avant-garde figures as Stäbler. Ibrahimi's works of the early 1970s rank among the most progressive of that period. The First Piano Concerto (1971) shows a harmonic daring in advance of many Soviet composers of the time, while the Second (1975) is a dense and austere work, exploring a post-Bartókian sound-world. The ballet Plaga e dhjetë e Gjergj Elez Alisë (‘The Tenth Wound of Gjergj Elez Ali’, 1985) marks a watershed in his output, its tightly-woven motivic material, derived from northern Albanian folksongs, sustains a relentless rhythmic pace throughout, culminating in a shattering emotional climax. With the end of the socialist period, Ibrahimi revealed himself as a composer with an acute awareness of recent history, especially that of Albania and the Balkans. His works of the 1990s, including the beautiful songs on verses by Agolli, Essenin and Frashë, are often haunted by death and a sense of loss: his ‘Tragic’ Symphony (1990–92) is an ominous lamentation, reminiscent of the darker visions of Schnittke. In his last work, the atonal Dialogo (1997) that brooding element gives way to an emotionally detached yet musically intense interplay between cello and piano.

WORKS

(selective list)

dramatic

Film scores: Ngadhnjim mbi vdekjen [Triumph over Death] (dir. G. Erebara and P. Milkani), 1967; Përse bie kjo daulle [Why this daulle beats] (dir. Milkani, after I. Kadare: Dasma), 1969; Kur zbardhi një ditë [At the Dawn of a New Day] (dir. Milkani), 1971; Pylli i lirisë [The Forest of Freedom] (dir. Erebara), 1976; Shembja e idhujve [The Fall of Idols] (dir. Milkani), 1977; Ballë për ballë [The Confrontation] dir. K. Çashku and Milkani; after Kadare: Dimri i madh), 1979; Të paftuarit [Uninvited] (dir. Çashku; after Kadare: Prill i thyer), 1985; Balade e Kurbinit [The Ballad of Kurbinit] (dir. Çashku), 1990

Other: Provimi i fundit [The Last Examination] (choreographic scene, choreog. P. Agalliu), Tirana, 1983; Ballin lart në jubile [Hold Your Head High at the Jubilee] (choreographic scene, choreog. G. Kaceli), Tirana, 1983; Plaga e dhjetë Gjergj Elez Alisë [The Tenth Wound of Gjergj Elez Ali] (ballet, 2, Kadare, choreog. A. Aliaj), Tirana, 1986; Kush ndahet nga tufa e han ujku/ Qengjat, ujku dhe bariu [Who Leaves the Flock is Eaten by the Wolf/The Kids, the Wolf and the Shepherd] (choreographic scene, R. Bogdani), ?1996

vocal

Choral: Kënga e komisarit Mustafa Matohiti [The Song of Comissaire Mustafa Matohiti] (cant., F. Arapi), Mez, mixed chorus, orch, 1969; Tanë Shqipnia asht betue [All Albania has Sworn] (vocal-sym. poem, trad), nar, T, Bar, mixed chorus, orch, 1978; Partia flet [The Party Speaks] (cant.), ?1979; Kantatë per 40 vjetorin të partisë [Cant. for the 40th Anniversary of the Party] (B. Londo), female chorus, mixed chorus, orch, 1981; Parti, dritë e jetës sonë [Party, Light of Our Lives] (Xh. Jorganxhi), mixed chorus, pf, 1982; Krisën topat [Roar the Canons] (vocal-sym. poem, trad.), mixed chorus, orch, 1983; Pushka ime [My Gun] (Th. Mocka), male chorus, orch, 1983; Suita (trad.), chorus, 1984; Dremit liqeri [The Sleeping Lake] (L. Poradeci), 4–part chorus, 1991; Rekuiem për humbjen e engjëve: Vogelushëve të Serajevës, viktime të pafajshëm të luftës [Requiem for the Loss of the Angels: to the Little Girls of Sarajevo, Innocent Victims of the War] (Xh. Spahiu), S, A, T, B, mixed chorus, orch, 1995

Songs (1v, pf unless otherwise stated): I kushtohet [Dedicated] (Kadare), 1972; Lisi bleron vonë [The Oak Tree Greens Slowly] (D. Agolli), 1975; Recital i Malësorit [The Mountaineer's Recital] (Migjeni), 1975–95; Shqiptar [Albanian] (ballad, V. Qurku), 1977; Djaloshare [Youthful] (Agolli), before 1979; Në pranverë [In Spring] (Agolli), before 1982; Toka ime, kënga ime [My Land, My Song] (Agolli), before 1982; Peizazhi i pyllit të ralluar [Landscape of Destroyed Forest] (Agolli), 1986–7; Natë e bukur [The Night is Beautiful] (Goethe), 1988; Plaku dhe vdekja [The Old Man and Death] (N. Frashëri), 1990–96; Nessuno (S. Quasimodo), 1993; Rrejdh s' eshtë lume [It Flows, yet it is no River] (A. Podrimja), 1994; Dosvidanja [Farewell] (S. Essenin), 1996; Vdekja e druvarit [The Death of the Lumberjack] (Agolli), 1996–7; E la tua vesta a bianca (Quasimodo), S, vc, pf, 1997

Songs (1v, orch unless otherwise stated): Proletarë të gjitha vendeve bashkohuni [Proletarians of All Countries Unite], Kënge/Baladë për Selam Musanë [Song/Ballad for Selam Musaj], Këngë për revolucionin [Song for the Revolution], ?1v, ?vv, orch, 1960s; Ku po shkon, o partizan [Partisan, where are you heading to?], 1972; Kushtetutën e re miratoi kvëndi [The Parliament has Ratified the New Constitution], children's vv, 1977; Manushake [Violet] (N. Frashëri; from the film score Shembja e idhujve), 1977; Mirëmëngjes [Good Morning] (N. Lako), 1979; Ti që ke në sy lirinë [Freedom is mirrored in your Eyes] (R. Qatipi), ?1v, orch, 1979; Një zambak i bardhë në gur [A White Lily on the Rock] (G. Beci), 1980; Rrjedh një këngë e ligjerime [Flows a Song of Wailing] (G. Beci), 1980; Unëm biri yt [Me, your Son] (Podrimja), 1982; Hymni i Flamurit [The Hymn of the Flag] (F.S. Noli), 1v, ?orch, 1987–96; Kush po shkon ashtu/Trimi dhe Vasha [Who Goes by like this/The Young Man and the Maiden] (Poradeci), male and female vv solo, orch, 1996; Vera-Vera-Kokovera (folk), 3vv, 1996

instrumental

Orch: Vc Conc., 1968; Suite, 1969 or after [from film score Ngadhnjim mbi vdekja]; Sym. Poem, 1970; Concertino, pf, orch, 1970s; Poëme, vn, orch, 1970s; Pf Conc. no.1, 1971; Albanian Rhapsody no.1, 1973; Pf Conc. no.2, 1975; Albanian Rhapsody no.2, 1975; Variations on a Folk Theme, fl, orch, 1976; Fantasia, pf, orch, 1982; Ob Conc., 1982; Fantasia, fl, vn, orch, 1984; Poëme-koncert, f, pf, orch, 1985; Sym., eng hn, str, 1987–8; Sym. ‘Tragic’ (poems by A. Podrimja, Migjeni and L. Aragon recited before each movt), d, spkrs, S, orch, 1990–92, rev. 1993–5

Chbr and solo inst: Album, 10 pieces for children, pf, c1955–60; Scherzo, fl, pf, c1962–8; Toccata, pf, 1962–8; Str Qt, f, ?1965–89; Sonata, vc, pf, 1975, rev. 1990; Suite, fl, 1980–93; Suite, pf, after 1985; Scherzo, vn, pf, 1990; Kontrast, fl, ob, cl, hn, tpt, trbn, perc, pf, vn, vc, 1992; Homazh për Bela Bartokun [A Tribute to Béla Bartók], gui, 1992; Vikame, str trio, 1994; Dialogo ‘Il Regalo di nozze’, vc, pf, 1997; various short pf pieces, before 1982

Tape: De profundis, 1994

BIBLIOGRAPHY

S. Kalemi and S. Çefa: Historia e muzikës Shqiptare: analiza e veprave [A history of Albanian music: analysis of works] (Tirana, 1979)

Historia e muzikës Shqiptare [A history of Albanian music] (Tirana, 1984–5)

R.H. Bogdani: Koreografi & art i kultivuar [Choreography and cultivated art] (Tirana, 1998)

V. Ibrahimi: Vikama e tingullit [The de profundis of sound] (Tirana, 1999) [monograph, incl. worklist]

GEORGE LEOTSAKOS

Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī

(b Baghdad, July 779; d Samarra’, July 839). Arab musician. He was a son of the Abbasid Caliph al-Mahdī and a Persian slave at court called Shikla. He became famous for his fine and powerful voice with its range of four octaves, and first took part in court concerts during the reigns of Hārūn al-Rashīd (786–809) and al-Amīn (809–13). Proclaimed caliph in 817 in opposition to al-Ma’mūn (813–33), he had to abdicate after barely two years and went into hiding. In 825 he was pardoned and became a court musician once more under al-Ma’mūn and his successor al-Mu‘tasim (833–42). He was a follower of the school of Ibn Jāmi‘ and represented a ‘soft’ style, probably influenced by Persian music, which also allowed freedom in rendering older works. His rival Ishāq al-Mawsilī accused him of stylistic uncertainty; fragments of their polemic writings are quoted in the Kitāb al-aghānī al-kabīr (‘Great book of songs’) of al-Isfahānī, and their disputes on questions of musical theory were recorded in a lost treatise by ‘Alī ibn Hārūn ibn al-Munajjim (d 963). Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī’s Kitāb fī l-aghānī (‘Book of songs’) and a collection of his own songs, as well as biographical writings by his son, Hibat Allāh, and by his secretary, Ibn al-Dāya, survive in fragments in al-Isfahānī. He may have written a further musical work with ‘Amr ibn Bāna. Shortly before his death he renounced music and wine on religious grounds.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

EI2

C. Barbier de Meynard: ‘Ibrahim, fils de Mehdi’, Journal asiatique, 6th ser., xiii (1869), 201–342

H.G. Farmer: A History of Arabian Music (London, 1929/R), 119ff

H.M. Leon: ‘The Poet Prince Who Became Khalifah’, Islamic Culture, iii (1929), 249–72

M. Husāmī: Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī (Beirut, 1961) [in Arabic]

J.E. Bencheikh: ‘Les musiciens et la poésie: les écoles d’Ishāq al-Mawsilī (m. 235 H.) et d’Ibrāhīm Ibn al-Mahdī (m. 224 H.)’, Arabica, xxii (1975), 114–52

G.D. Sawa: Music Performance Practice in the Early ‘Abbāsid Era 132–320 AH/750–932 AD (Toronto, 1989)

ECKHARD NEUBAUER

Ibsen, Henrik

(b Skien, 20 March 1828; d Christiania [now Oslo], 23 May 1906). Norwegian dramatist. He is generally regarded as the father of modern prose drama, with such plays as A Doll’s House (1879), Ghosts (1882) and Hedda Gabler (1891). His early verse plays, written in the 1850s, attracted opera composers at the turn of the century – for instance, Stenhammar (Gildet på Solhaug, 1892–3) and Karel Moor (Hjördis, 1899). The subjects of these plays are epic and patriotic, evoking Norway’s greatness during the Viking and medieval periods; and Ibsen’s use of the Volsung-Saga in Haermaendena på Helgeland (‘The Vikings at Helgeland’ 1858) clearly aligns the play with a Wagnerian tradition. His later and more innovatory work had less appeal for composers, though the revolutionary Brand (1866) leaves its mark on d’Indy’s L’étranger; and Mark Brunswick’s opera The Master Builder (1959–67) is based on Ibsen’s 1892 play of the same name. In the latter part of the 20th century Hedda Gabler inspired settings by Robert Ward (1973) and Edward Harper (1985).

Ibsen had little feeling for music, although he made some early attempts at opera criticism, in which he expressed strong views on librettos (and wrote a verse parody of Bellini’s Norma). His attempt in 1861 to rewrite his Olaf Liljenkraus (1857) for the operatic stage was abandoned (the play was later turned into a very successful opera by Arne Eggen in 1940), and he turned down a request for a libretto from Grieg, who had written music for his play Peer Gynt in 1876.

WORKS

Gildet på Solhaug [The Feast at Solhaug] (verse play, 1856): Stenhammar, 1899

Olaf Liljekrans (play, 1857): A. Eggen, 1940

Haermaendena på Helgeland [The Vikings at Helgeland] (play, 1858): Moor, 1905, as Hjördis

Brand (play, 1866): d’Indy, 1903, as L’étranger

Peer Gynt (play, 1867): L. Heward, 1922, inc.; V. Ullmann, 1928, inc., Egk, 1938

Hedda Gabler (play, 1891): Ward, 1978, as Claudia Legare; Harper, 1985

Bygmester Solness [The Master Builder] (play, 1892): M. Brunswick, 1959–67, inc.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

M. Meyer: Henrick Ibsen (London, 1967–71)

J. Williamson: ‘Pfitzner and Ibsen’, ML, lxvii (1986), 127–46

R.J. Andersen: ‘Edvard Grieg and Peer Gynt’, SMN, xix (1993), 221–8

J.G. Williamson: ‘Wolf and Pfitzner: from Song to Stage Music, from Stage Music to Song’, Hans Pfitzner und die musikalische Lyrik seiner Zeit: Bericht über das Symposion Hamburg 1989 (Tutzing, 1994), 132–45

ANTHONY PARR

Ibycus

(fl c535 bce). Greek poet. He left his native city of Rhegium in southern Italy to go to Samos at the invitation of its ruler Polycrates. The surviving fragments of his poetry show that he employed the style of choral lyric established more than a generation earlier by Stesichorus, and (the argument becomes less certain at this point) that he further imitated his predecessor by devoting himself to themes taken from mythology. As a court poet at Samos (see also Anacreon) he seems to have explicitly renounced myth for more personal subjects, powerfully expressed through natural imagery. One poem (Edmonds, poem 1) contrasts the gentle coming of love in youth with its unseasonable, shattering onslaught upon the poet. Together with a comparable shorter fragment (Edmonds, frag.2), it is reminiscent of the passionate Aeolic monody of Sappho and Alcaeus; yet both poems use choral metres. Although the strongly marked changes of emotional tone might appear to have demanded a shift in modality, Stesichorus had employed Phrygian for extremes of mood even more sharply opposed. The statement in Aristophanes (Thesmophoriazusae, 162) that Ibycus, Alcaeus and Anacreon ‘spiced’ the harmonia is deliberately frivolous; its meaning remains obscure.

There is little reason to take seriously the assertion by later writers that Ibycus invented the sambukē, a type of harp that is still occasionally confused with the lyre (see Bowra), or other claims which involve the bukanē, a spiral trumpet. Apparently all of these associations originated from the accident of mere formal similarity.

WRITINGS

J.M. Edmonds, ed. and trans.: Lyra graeca, ii (London and Cambridge, MA, 1924, 2/1928/R), 78–119

D.L. Page, ed.: Poetae melici graeci (Oxford, 1962), 144–69

D.A. Campbell, ed. and trans.: Greek Lyric, iii (Cambridge, MA, and London, 1991), 208–93

BIBLIOGRAPHY

U. von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff: Sappho und Simonides (Berlin, 1913/R), 121–5

C.M. Bowra: Greek Lyric Poetry from Alcman to Simonides (Oxford, 1936, 2/1961), 241–67

W.D. Anderson: Music and Musicians in Ancient Greece (Ithaca, NY, 1994), 78–81

WARREN ANDERSON/THOMAS J. MATHIESEN

Icart, Bernar.

See Ycart, Bernhard.

Iceland.

Country in the North Atlantic. The history of Icelandic music has many gaps, since the country has always been sparsely populated. In the absence of cities of any size until recently, and without an aristocratic ruling class, Icelandic society has evolved in patterns different from those of other European nations. Iceland was first settled in the 9th century; it came under Norwegian rule in the 13th century and later under Danish, until 1944, when the country became a republic.

Icelanders possess an abundance of cultural information about their past from aural and literary traditions more than 1000 years old. Traditional music in Iceland exemplifies both insularity and cosmopolitanism, originally as part of Nordic interaction; later in connection with the political domination of Norway and Denmark; and, since independance, by assuming an increasingly international voice.

1. Pan-Nordic roots.

3. Indigenous instruments.

4. Christian traditions.

5. European art music.

6. 20th-century trends.

The rímur tradition first appeared late in the 14th century; from its inception until well into the 20th century it was the most popular form of artistic communication in Iceland. The term rímur (‘rhymes’; sing. ríma) refers to long narrative poems consisting of sequential verses chanted to repetitions of a short, usually pre-existent melody. Rímnakveðskapur, the composing of rímur, employs an intricate versification technique that involves esoteric features such as palindrome rhyme. Rímur stories include legendary historical tales drawn from the sagas, central European romances and tales of magic.

PANDORA HOPKINS (1–3, 6), THORKELL SIGURBJÖRNSSON (4, 5)

Iceland

1. Pan-Nordic roots.

Early written sources document both instrumental and vocal traditions, although there is no evidence of instrumental accompaniment for vocal performance. Icelandic manuscripts dating from the end of the 11th century to the 15th contain written versions of legal, historical and mythological material that had been transmitted orally from previous eras; some concern events occurring during the time of settlement ( c870–c930 ce) and before colonization.

Two poetic genres emerge from written sources, categorized as eddaic and skaldic verse according to style, subject matter and function. Most eddaic verse comes from a single 13th-century manuscript known as the Poetic Edda, which includes lays about Norse gods (the Aesir) and verses concerning the exploits of Germanic heroes such as Sigurd (equivalent to Siegfried of the Nibelungenlied). Another important source for eddaic verse is the Snorra-Edda, which uses similar themes as models; it was a textbook intended to promote a dwindling tradition by explaining the complicated principles behind the highly stylized system of skaldic versification. This manuscript is a major source for skaldic verse, examples of which are found scattered throughout the sagas, prose narratives written in the vernacular (c1200–c1400). No extant manuscript contains skaldic verse alone; consequently, knowledge must be gleaned from fragmentary sources. Ancient literary manuscripts establish the historical importance of instrumental and vocal traditions in the pan-Nordic world, for instance the warrior-king Harold Sigurðarson (Harðraði) confirms the essential role of harp-playing and riming (‘chanting’) in Nordic culture by including them in his boastful description of gentlemanly accomplishments.

Scholars do not agree on the extent to which one can rely on these early materials for historical veracity; Snorri Sturluson (1179–1241), the earliest compiler of Icelandic epic materials, considered the matter in the opening pages of his monumental history of Norse kings (Heimskringla). Sturluson's introduction explains the inclusion of kvaeði (old chants) and söguljoð (epic songs) along with written sources for historical documentation: ‘Now, while we cannot be sure just how close these are to the actual truth, we do know that the elder scholars had no doubt of their veracity’ (1777).

Iceland

2. Traditional vocal musics.

(i) Pre-1400: courtly and domestic verse, incantations.

Three different functions for vocal music emerge from ancient sources: formal and esoteric skaldic recitation, narrative verses chanted or sung informally and incantations used for supernatural purposes. The last two, found principally in eddaic manuscripts, were composed in simpler metres and contain mythological and heroic subject matter. The manuscripts do not include musical notation; however, a new awareness of the sociological value of these documents has drawn attention to the manner in which ancient verse was performed. Most eddaic verse, drawn from Norse mythological or legendary sources, was meant either to function magically as part of a ritual context or to transmit traditional lore informally for entertainment or didactic purposes; in both cases, the complicated metres and esoteric metaphors of skaldic verse were avoided. Eddaic verse, which contains numerous references to the singing of galdur (incantations), sometimes provides insights into the shamanic practices of the time.

There is little doubt that skaldic verse was chanted in a manner somewhere between speech and song (Einarsson, 1986), although some scholars caution that we cannot determine how this sounded (Turville-Petre, 1976). It is possible that the traditional mode of chanting rímur (see §3 below) may provide a key, since the informal, domestic rímur seems to have carried on some of the characteristics of elite skaldic style (e.g. subject matter and complex versification). Rímur is always described with the verb kvaeði, the term frequently used to denote skaldic recitation in ancient Icelandic literary documents. Indeed, judging from Sturluson's versification manual, an integral association between words and music is assumed in the definition of mál (‘speech’); mál included söngur (‘song’), galdur (‘incantation’) and kvaeðandi (‘recitation’) as well as tala (‘talk’ or ‘tale’) and saga (‘story’ or ‘history’) (Faulkes, 1987).

The emphasis in skaldic tradition was on celebrating rather than describing important events and personages as well as on the technical craftsmanship with which this was accomplished. Nevertheless, Sturluson considered these chanted poems to be historical documents since they were performed in the presence of chiefs and courtiers who could tell fact from fiction and would consider fabricated praise to be mockery (1775). The original Norwegian settlers of Iceland brought with them the elaborate art of the Norwegian hirðskáld (court poet), and after the initial migration, Icelandic skalds continued to monopolize this position. Their celebrity status is reflected in the more than 250 names of individual skalds that have come down to us.

(ii) Post-1400: rímur, lausavisur, song-dances, tvísöngur.

On farms rímur used to be performed at informal evening gatherings called kvöldvaka (‘evening-awakening’) during which members of the extended family would gather in the evening to listen to lengthy recitations by the kvaðmaður (‘chant-master’) who might be a family member, visitor or even an itinerant rímur chanter. This tradition continues today in special rímur clubs. Rímur are the dominant genre of indigenous Icelandic music.

Traditional performances of an entire rímur cycle (rímnaflokkur) might last an entire evening. Devices have developed to distinguish different sections from each other and gradually increase tension during lengthy recitation periods. Characteristic are shifts to new metres at the beginning of each ríma and the lengthening of the final note of each strophe, often articulated by a sudden rise in pitch. These elongated final tones are emphasized by an idiosyncratic ornament. Audience members often participate in these final tones at the end of each stanza. Two further musical traits of traditional rímur recitation are loudness and slowness of tempo. Another aspect of rímur performance is the peculiar vocal timbre that is used. While some modern performers tend to sing rather than chant texts, traditional performers use a thick, ponderous, guttural tone quality half-way between speech and song. The Danish composer Svend Nielsen, fascinated by the idiosyncratic qualities of this vocal timbre, conducted research with the use of sound engineering equipment at the universities of Uppsala and Copenhagen that compared rímur chanting with the singing of hymns and with speech (Nielsen, 1982).

Lausavisur are improvised quatrains that are spoken or chanted and, like rímur, they normally feature elaborate versification. Whether new or derived, they may function as part of a metrical competition in which two people take turns challenging each other. A sléttubönd is a lausavísur the words of which also have meaning when read in reverse for some other unusual order. Lausavisur often contain coded messages; for example, if sung backwards or in other unusual sequences they may communicate contradictory sentiments.

According to contemporary references, Icelanders used to share the general medieval European practice of song-dancing. At one time rímur were danced, and this historical association is expressed in the metrical structure of the genre. Icelandic balladry is considered to be metrically related to the danced rímur and other dances dating from as early as the 13th century. Little is known, however, about individual ballads until the 17th century. Another type of song-dance was the vikivakalag, deriving its name from its refrain, vikivaka kvaeði of strophic form it was sung responsorially by the dancers.

Tvísöngur (‘twin singing’) is a kind of improvised organum that has existed in Iceland since the Middle Ages; in its simplest form, it consists of two vocal parts sung in parallel 5ths or 4ths to a pre-existent melody functioning as cantus firmus from either a sacred or secular source (including rímur). More complex styles include a responsorial element, doubling of both parts at the octave, and passing notes. Tvísöngur is often taught in contemporary classrooms; it constitutes a performing practice, that is more an improvised variation of the melody than a form. The genre is of special interest to European musicologists who study the development of organum notated by church scribes in medieval manuscripts; it addresses the issue of whether the sacred manuscripts also reflect a more widespread, improvisatory practice that was applied to secular, as well as sacred, melodies.

The rímur tradition has been well documented in manuscripts containing musical notation and also through written descriptions of performances. Bjarni þorsteinsson gathered material from both written and aural sources for his monumental collection containing rímur and tvísöngur; published in the early 20th century, some of his transcriptions were provided by the traditional musicians.

Iceland

3. Indigenous instruments.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

BurneyH

S. Sturluson: Heimskringla, i, ed. G. Schoning (Havniae, 1777)

G. Mackenzie: Travels in the Island of Iceland, during the Summer of the Year 1810 (Edinburgh, 1811, 2/1842 as Travels in Iceland)

A. Saemundsen: Leiðarvísir til að spila á langspil og til ad laera Salmalög eftir notum (Akureyri, 1855)

A. Hammerich: ‘Studien über isländische Musik’, SIMG, i (1899–1900), 341–71

B. þorsteinsson: Íslenzk þjóðlög (Copenhagen, 1906–9)

O. Andersson: Stråkharpan: en studie i nordisk instrumenthistoria (Helsinki, 1923; Eng. trans., 1930/R)

S. Nordal: Introduction: Codex Wormianus (Copenhagen, 1931)

P. Hallberg: The Icelandic Saga (Lincoln, NE, 1962)

L. Hollander: The Skalds (Ann Arbor, 1968)

J.C. Griffiths: Modern Iceland (London, 1969)

O. Andersson: ‘The Bowed Harp of Trondheim Cathedral and Related Instruments in East and West’, Galpin Society Journal, xxiii (1970), 4–34

J. Helgason: ‘Eddåsang’ [Eddaic songs], Årsbok för Samfundet Sverige-Island i Lund-Malmö, iii (1972), 15–49 [with Eng. summary]

H. Jóhannsdóttir: ‘The Fidla of Iceland’, From Bone Pipe and Cattle Horn to Fiddle and Psaltery, ed. M. Müller (Copenhagen, 1972), 27–31

H. Biriksson: ‘On Icelandic Rimur: an Orientation’, Tidskrift for Nordisk Folkeminnesforskning (1975), 139–50

H. Eiríksson and H. Jóhannsdóttir: Recordings of Icelandic Folklore (Reykjavík, 1974)

H. Jóhannsdóttir: ‘Fidla’, ‘Langspil’ and ‘Island: Folkmusik’, Sohlmans Musiklexikon, ii, iii and iv (Stockholm, 1975)

S. Sturluson: Heimskringla II: Sagas of the Old Norse Kings (London, 1975)

E. Turville-Petre: Scaldic Poetry (Oxford, 1976)

H. Helgason: Das Heldenlied auf Island: seine Vorgeschichte, Struktur Vortragsform: ein Beitrag zur alteren Musikgeschichte (Graz, 1980)

S. Nielsen: Stability in Musical Improvisation: a Repertoire of Icelandic Epic Songs (Rimur) (Copenhagen, 1982)

F. Raschella, ed.: The So-Called Second Grammatical Treatise: an Orthographic Pattern of Late Thirteenth-Century Icelandic (Florence, 1982)

S. Einarsson: Studies in Germanic Philology (Hamburg, 1986)

P. Hopkins: Aural Thinking in Norway: Performance and Communication with the Hardingfele (New York, 1986)

A. Faulkes, ed.: Snorri Sturluson: Edda (London, 1987)

R. Aðalsteinsson: Bögubókin (Reykjavík, 1990)

S.H. Nielsen: ‘Rímur: Epic in Iceland and how it was Recited by two Icelanders’, Historische Volksmusikforschung Göttingen 1991, 49–53

G. Bergendal: New Music in Iceland (Reykjavík, 1992)

M. Ginsberg: Ari Froði: Singer of History (diss., U. of Iowa, 1992)

K. Hastrup: A Place Apart: an Anthropological Study of the Icelandic World (Oxford, 1998)

J. Jochens: Women in Old Norse society (Ithaca, 1996)

J. Sigursson: Chieftans and Power in the Icelandic Commonwealth (Odense, 1999)

J.J. Sigurjónsson: ‘Electro-acoustic and computer music in Iceland’, Nordic sounds, ii (1994), 10–14

recordings

Folk Songs of Iceland, perf. A. Thorhallsdóttir, Lyrichord LLST 7335 (c1975)

Here today, tomorrow next week!, perf. Sugarcubes, Elektra 60860–2 (1989)

Rammislensk, Icelandair, Fimmund 001 (1990) [arrs. of traditional Icelandic music performed by Islandica]

Icelandic Folksongs, perf. Hamrahlid Choir, ITM 8-05 (1993)

Ichiyanagi, Toshi

(b Kobe, 4 Feb 1933). Japanese composer and pianist. After taking lessons in composition with Ikenouchi and the piano with Chieko Hara, he went to study at the Juilliard School in 1952. He met Cage and was deeply influenced by his ideas. Ichiyanagi soon became active as a pianist and composer, giving experimental performances that often included chance procedures. He returned to Japan in 1961 and continued activities of the same nature; he organized concerts, took part in concerts sponsored by the Society for 20th-Century Music, founded the New Directions group (1963) and collaborated with Takemitsu in arranging the Orchestral Space Festival (1966). Piano Media (1972) marks his return to strict notation and demonstrates his use of repetition, a characteristic that permeated his many large-scale works in traditional Western genres. He has won the Otaka Prize four times, with the first and second piano concertos, the Violin Concerto and the Symphony ‘Berlin Renshi’. At the end of the 1970s he also began to compose Japanese traditional music, such as Ogenraku (1980). He has promoted both Western contemporary music, becoming a director of the Interlink Festival (1984) and an adviser to the National Theatre (1991), and new Japanese traditional music, becoming a director of the Tokyo International Music Ensemble (1989).

WORKS

(selective list)

Op: Momo (3, after M. Ende), 1995

Orch: Pf Conc. no.1 ‘Reminiscence of Spaces’, 1981; Vn Conc. ‘Circulating Scenery’, 1983; Pf Conc. no.2 ‘Winter Portrait’, 1987; Sym. ‘Berlin Renshi’, S, T, orch, 1988; Pf Conc. no.3 ‘Cross Water Roads’, 1991; Sym. no.2 ‘Undercurrent’, 1993; Sym. no.5 ‘Time Perspective’, 1997

Chbr and solo inst: Sapporo, any number of players, 1962; Piano Media, pf, 1972; Music for Living Process, ens, 2 dancers, 1973; Time Sequence, pf, 1976; Recurrence, fl, cl, hp, pf, perc, 1979; Time in Tree, Time in Water, pf, perc, 1981; Paganini Personal, mar, pf, 1982; Str Qt no.2 ‘Interspace’, 1986; Trio ‘Interlink’, str trio, 1990

with Jap. insts: Ogenraku, gagaku ens, 1980; Enenraku, gagaku ens, 1982; Hoshi no Wa, shō, 1983; Still Time I, shō, 1986; Winter Portrait II, koto, 1986; Reigaku Sym. ‘The Shadows Appearing through Darkness’, ancient insts, gagaku ens, shōmyō (chanting vv), 1987; Ten, Zui, Ho, Gyaku, shakuhachi, ondes martenot, 1988; Transfiguration of the Moon, vn, shō, 1988; Reigaku Sym. no.2 ‘Kokai’, gagaku ens, reigaku ens, shōmyō, 1989; Tenryuji, ryūteki, shakuhachi, shō, koto, ondes martenot, perc, 1992; Unchu Kuyo Bosatsu, gagaku ens, reigaku ens, shōmyō, 1994; Spiritual Sight, gagaku ens, reigaku ens, shōmyō, vc, 1996

Vocal: Extended Voices, chorus, 1967; Requiem, male chorus, 1985

El-ac: Activities, elec ens, orch, 1967; Appearance, 3 insts, 2 oscillators, 2 ring mod, 1967; Music for Living Space, chorus, cptr, 1969; Theatre Music, tape, 1969; Environmental Music, nos.1–3, tape, 1970

Principal publishers: Schott, Peters

WRITINGS

Oto o kiku [Listening to sounds] (Tokyo, 1984)

Ongaku toiu itonami [Music and the contemporary age] (Tokyo, 1998)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

KdG (T.M. Maier)

K. Stockhausen: Texte, iii (Cologne, 1971), 236, 260–61, 279, 281

K. Akiyama: Nihon no sakkyokukatachi [Japanese composers], i (Tokyo, 1978), 247–71

K. Hori, ed.: Nihon no sakkyoku nijusseiki [Japanese compositions in the 20th century] (Tokyo, 1999)

MASAKATA KANAZAWA/SUSUMU SHONO

Iconography.

The study of visual representations, their significance and interpretation.

TILMAN SEEBASS

I. Introduction

1. Terminology.

The terms ‘iconography’.and ‘iconology’, were created by 16th-century humanists for the study of emblems, portraits on coins and other pictorial evidence from ancient archaeology. They referred to the description (Gk: graphein) or interpretation (Gk: logos) of the content of pictures as regards both visual symbolism and factual research. When, in the 19th century, art history became established as an academic discipline, a comprehensive analytical method was developed in which content and form became the main subjects of analysis. From then on, scholars used the terms ‘iconography’ and ‘iconology’ when they referred to the study of content as opposed to the study of form or style. In musicology, however, both approaches continued to exist, side by side. The twofold meaning remains an obstacle to the unequivocal usage of the term. Some treat the visual arts as supplier of special information pertinent to musical facts, using musical iconography as an ancillary tool for research in the pictorial documentation of instruments and performance. Others consider an image with musical subject matter as a work of art in its own right, using musical iconography towards research in the vision and visualization of music.

2. Method.

Any pictorial document requires for its interpretation an understanding of visual aesthetics. This is especially true for pictures dealing with a topic as invisible and immaterial as the world of sound. The musical iconographer must therefore be familiar with art-historical iconology as well as fulfilling the obvious methodological requirement of expertise in organology and performing practice. Exemplary descriptions of this method come from members of the Warburg school (see for example Panofsky, B1939, and Białostocki, B1963): the student should first describe the formal elements of a picture and deal with the factual meaning of each element; secondly, he or she must take account of the cultural convention that influenced the depiction of those elements, tracing them back to a story or a scene, and discussing any intended ‘transnatural’, allegorical or metaphorical meaning (this is the stage of descriptive analysis that Panofsky called iconography); at the third level, the scholar may establish an iconology of the intrinsic meaning of the picture and discuss it as a manifestation of the artist's personality, the patron's ambitions and the onlooker's expectations. Iconology explains the picture as a paradigm of a given culture.

An analogy with the terms ‘ethnography’ and ‘ethnology’ may be illuminating. Iconography, of course, assumes knowledge of comparative material, leading to an informed description with qualitative weighting; iconology implies intellectual penetration on a hermeneutical level. Musicologists have come to adopt these methodological ideas for their purposes, and in the 1970s and 80s came to consider their particular relevance for musical iconography. Emanuel Winternitz advocated the term ‘musical iconology’, although he himself rarely penetrated to the analytical level that it implies. That term, because it is so loaded, is rarely used.

More recently, art history, like musicology has paid increasing attention to semantic pluralism in matters of interpretation. In musical iconography this pertains both to the subject matter (the way music has been appreciated in the course of time) and the medium (the way a painting has been seen in the course of time). Hence in musical iconography the hermeneutial equation operates with two unknowns because the codes for what can be represented in the visual medium and what can be performed in the aural one are not the same. For example: there was never a place where the hierarchy of pictorial genres was more codified than in France during the ancien régime. This must be taken into account in explaining the absence of representations of musicians in the iconography of ceremonies at that time. The cultural code assigned to minstrels was so low on the scale of pictorial subjects that they could not be allowed to appear in pictures although they played a crucial role in the ceremony itself (Charles-Dominique, E1996). But there are contrary examples: musical caricatures and satirical images can represent music that is not aurally acceptable or feasible.

Furthermore, analysis can be complicated by the juxtaposition of different cultures, when the creator of the picture, although a witness of the event, is not part of the music culture. Thus pictures even including photographs made by colonial explorers, travellers or ethnomusicologists originate with authors from a culture different from the one they are depicting. Here the second unknown in the equation appears whenever tensions arise between an ‘emic’ and an ‘etic’ viewpoint (in the literal sense).

1. Manuscript and book illustration.

II. Sources

Any document that visualizes music either concretely or abstractly is an artist's reflection on music and hence an object for iconography. The material ranges from photographs to figurative and abstract art; it can be an illustration of a text, or an image stemming from an orally transmitted story, or it may lack any textual base. One step further removed are decorations of musical instruments and the musical instrument as an image; stage decorations for musical theatre; the design of places and buildings where music is performed; the photo of a composer's studio and so on. A special case are pictures inspiring musicians to programmatic compositions. Finally, the study of synaesthetical concepts governing both music and the visual arts are also sometimes considered as belonging to the field of musical iconography.

Every culture provides us with sources of various types. The individual mix depends very much on the place the two arts have in a particular cultural system: their role in religion, their social importance and their relationship to a literate, semi-literate or non-literate tradition.

2. Pictures with no direct textual base.

3. The single picture.

4. Instruments.

5. Stage decorations, record jackets.

6. Contextual sources: performance sites.

7. Music after pictures.

1. Manuscript and book illustration.

The typical procedure for producing an illustrated text begins with decisions about the overall design and the placement of text, musical notation (where given) and picture (Seebass, B1987). When the scribe has written his part, he hands the manuscript to the music scribe, and finally the illustrator takes over. It would be wrong to assume that the illustrator always fully understands the text. Often he is guided by any surrounding music, but if the music mentioned in the text has no equivalent in the painter's everyday world, he may cling to the text at the expense of visual coherence or feasibility, or may take his picture, partly or entirely, from another visual source – a model book or a woodcut, either by tracing through from an earlier manuscript or free copying.

A fascinating example is the illustration of Virdung's Musica getutscht, the product of a collaboration between the author (Sebastian Virdung), the publisher (Michael Furter, who decided how much decoration he could afford, hired typesetters and woodcutters and was responsible for the lay-out) and the main illustrator (Urs Graf, artist and mercenary). Virdung furnished some pictures of instruments from other books (such as the Dance of Death cycle) and sketches. Graf made only two sketches, a lutenist and two hands pulling strings, both technically challenging. The main work rested with the woodcutter who transformed these and other models into drawings and transferred them to the woodblock. With the typesetter, he arranged them together with the borders, which Furter had in stock in his print shop. The illustrations are thus a fairly heterogeneous compilation, while the text is laid out straightforwardly.

For a classification of such sources the nature of the text provides a natural criterion, distinguishing illustrations for treatises in music theory from illustrations of narratives that mention music-making.

(i) Theoretical texts.

The woodcuts in Virdung's treatise remind the reader of what he has seen and heard on various musical occasions; they are not very lucid for anyone with more detailed knowledge. But illustrators can go much further as far as details are concerned if the purpose is not merely to serve as an aide mémoire but to explain construction (even indicating scales, as in Praetorius's organography) and acoustical aspects: they may complement the text and enable the reader to build the instrument or better understand sound production.

Of another kind are illustrations that embody symbolical or numerological meanings of musical scales and instruments. They integrate concepts of their sister arts, arithmetics, geometry and astronomy, and transform schemes into figurae, visual symbols with spiritual power and emblematic quality (Seebass, B1987; van Deusen, 1989). The most prominent examples are the illustrations of the Carolingian treatise ‘Cogor, ut te, Dardane’ (Hammerstein, F1959) copied for over 500 years, and the illustrations of Isidore of Seville's treatise on musical instruments (I-Tn R 454, olim D III 19 ff.33v–34v).

(ii) Narrative and synthesis.

Byzantinists describing, identifying and classifying illustrated manuscripts differentiate significantly between continuous illustrations that are action-orientated (a practice in monastic redactions of Byzantine psalters) and illustrations that condense events, represent and interpret them in a christological and teleological fashion (aristocratic redaction in Constantinople). While the former are close to the text, with the miniatures typically placed in the margin, the latter interrupt the text across the columns or are placed on an extra page.

This differentiation also applies to manuscript illustration elsewhere, and is important to musical iconography in particular. Pictures of the synthesizing type may be complex constructions produced by multiple exegesis. Compiling various meanings into one image, artists apply two or more of the four doctrines of scriptural meaning, sensus literalis, sensus allegoricus, sensus tropologicus and sensus anagogicus. For example, in the literal sense, the figure of David is the musician in his various roles according to the story (shepherd, court musician, composer-performer of psalms, founder of the liturgy in the Temple). In the allegorical sense, he is the precursor of Christ and the founder of Christian liturgy, accompanied by his four liturgists (Asaph, Eman, Ethan and Idithun) as precursors of the four evangelists. In the tropological sense, he is the model musician, knowledgeable in music theory and modality (musicus) and the perfect singer (cantor). In the anagogical sense he is the leader for singing the celestial Alleluia. An example is the famous drawing at the beginning of the Cambridge Psalter (GB-Cjc B 18, f.1, early 12th century; Seebass, Musikdarstellung, E1973, pl.111) or the miniature illustrating Psalm cl in the Stuttgart Psalter (D-Slv bibl. f.23, f.163v, c830; Seebass, Musikdarstellung, E1973, pl.93).

The smallest version of the second type of illustration are figurative initials for the different sections of a text. One degree higher are larger images covering the content of chapters, and a further degree higher are illustrated title pages and frontispieces (the verso of the leaf preceding the title (‘looking at the title’). Here the content and meaning of the images extend to the most relevant aspects of the succeeding chapter or to the significance of the book as a whole. A famous example of a full-page miniature carrying meaning beyond the textual content of the following pages is the frontispiece of a manuscript of Notre Dame polyphony (I-Fl plut.XIX.27), organized according to music-theoretical principles with figurative initials in which little scenes illustrate the song texts. The miniature is unrelated to them: instead it displays the Boethian threefold system of cosmic, terrestrial, and acoustical harmony, suggesting that the manuscripts should be understood as a symbol of human effort to emulate and prove concepts of divine harmony.

The idea of a marginal narrative illustration can also be seen at work in narrative frescoes and tapestries, while the synthetical illustration has a parallel in autonomous panel painting. Finally, the semantic richness of an illustrated manuscript or book may also include the decorative element in the form of geometrical or ornamental designs and the drôlerie in the margin.

2. Pictures with no direct textual base.

This category embraces figurative friezes, frescoes and tapestries. Once the textual ‘support’ is absent, the pictorial genre will change: the context is not textual in the literal sense and the reader is replaced by the onlooker. Tapestries, friezes on vase paintings and frescoes on the walls of temples and churches are not meant only for literati and require a different technique of conveying content. Some of these frescoes do in fact tell stories, either already known to the onlooker or to be explained by an expert guide. They presuppose a text (sometimes providing hints by inserted short inscriptions or bands with texts) and in this respect can be analysed almost like illustrations. Some of them are narrative in character, for example some of the music scenes on Greek vase paintings of the classical period telling us about myths and rituals; others are more programmatic, such as the tympana of Romanesque and Gothic churches with the 24 Elders of the Apocalypse praising the Lord with their instruments, or the Buddhist paradise where musicians and dancers perform before the Buddha (cave paintings of Dunhuang in west China or reliefs at the upper level of the temple of Borobudur, Central Java). The group of viewers for which a picture is created has a decisive influence on the mode of depiction. Equally important is the homiletic essence of the theme. At Borobudur, the reliefs at the lower level tell stories taking place in the sinful world and represent music scenes involving the local Javanese population; the reliefs at the higher level represent music in a paradise modelled after South Asian court fashion.

A rare case of a narrative fresco is the Beethovenfries painted by Gustav Klimt in the Secession building in Vienna. It illustrates and interprets a musical text – Beethoven's Ninth Symphony – requiring the spectator to recall the structual layout and content of the movements in succession while walking along the frieze. When the visitor turns to the last wall, Max Klinger's statue of Beethoven, in the centre of the adjacent room, comes into view, remaining in sight until he or she reaches the end of the frieze and the final chorus of the finale.

3. The single picture.

The most widely spread category of sources is the single picture, including paintings, sculptures and photographs. Occasionally it is extracted, with little change from a series of pictures and can be identified and analysed accordingly. But by far the most frequent case is the autonomous image. It must be analysed with the cultural context and pictorial tradition in mind, but on its own terms. If its content is related to music, it requires in addition an understanding of the musical culture at the time of its making, particularly of aesthetics, since these will shape the artist's horizon as much as the visible side of musical performance. With a subject matter as invisible as sound the process of its transformation into an image is complex. How this transformation is achieved depends on the theme and the medium. A devotional oil painting of St Cecilia would be on the abstract side, and so would a woodcut of an emblem. By contrast, a banquet scene with musical entertainment on a silk screen is to be understood in real terms (see also §§III–IV below).

4. Instruments.

For most cultures, musical instruments are not just tools that increase human ability to produce sound; they also possess an animistic component. Curt Sachs (J1929) was the first to point out that they were icons or musical spirits given concrete form. To emphasize this link they are often endowed with anthropomorphic elements, such as body outlines, facial features, sex organs. Where they belong to animal cults they may take on zoomorphic elements. Four examples may serve as illustration. First, there exist bowed instruments that show visual and terminological links to North Asian horse cults (Tsuge, J1976). Secondly, certain Latin American Indians wear zoomorphic clay whistles as charms and play them to evoke the spirit of the protecting animal (Olsen, J1986). Thirdly, a Beneventan double flute from the early 20th century, made from a single piece of wood but simulating two flutes bound together (fig.1), has an anthropomorphic appearance with the two air holes at the wedges suggesting the eyes, and the lowest part of the pipes (separated from each other) the feet. The flute is used as a wedding gift and the decorative carving in the central band shows a couple, man and woman, standing for the left and right pipes which are tuned a 3rd apart and called male and female; below, a larger hermaphrodite is shown between the two pipes. Thus the instrument both by its shape and by its decoration incorporates the idea of unification of male and female, also realized by the dyophonic playing (Guizzi, B1990). Lastly, a phallic slit drum, belonging to a village chief in Lombok (Indonesia), was positioned vertically and had the shape of a fish with its head bearing hermaphroditic elements; when it was played at a fertility ritual, the act symbolized the fruitful marriage between the chief and the village (Meyer, J1939).

In many cultures instrument makers do not stop at the level of functionality when they build instruments but invest additional labour and cost in decorating them with pictures, thus increasing their value. Sometimes the decoration has no figurative content and simply beautifies the object, such as the prospect of an organ, the burnt-in decorations of a Balinese suling or an East African mbira, or the intarsia of a music table. Sometimes the decoration has ritual or magic purposes and supports the ceremony performed with the instrument. Examples include Van Eyck's painted organ shutters (Ghent, St Bavo), Lucca della Robbia's balcony for the cantoria (Florence, Museo del'Opera de Duomo), with the reliefs illustrating music-making according to Psalm cl, or the cosmos painted on the shaman's drum showing the upper, central and nether worlds through which the shaman travels during his performance in search of spirits (Emsheimer, J1988). Sometimes the purpose is to heighten the prestige of the owner or to add visual pleasures to the aural ones during the performance, as is the case with painted harpsichord lids. The subject matter of such pictures reaches from concrete musical scenes to social or spiritual symbolism.

5. Stage decorations, record jackets.

One step removed from direct reference are the decorations and costumes for dance drama and musical theatre. Sometimes it is impossible to distinguish them from the stage decoration for theatre plays. But there is a difference between the texts of regular plays and opera librettos: libretto texts do not exhaust the subject but rather provide a dramatic and lyric frame for the composer. With the content of opera thus depending on both text and music, the visual component will also derive its purpose, style and subject matter from the music.

The character of stage decorations cannot be defined for the entire history of musical theatre. Sometimes it is a work of art in its own right; sometimes it has an auxiliary function like applied art for providing no more than a backdrop or platform for the dramatic action. Sometimes it is closely wedded to music and text, as in Richard Wagner's Gesamtkunstwerk. Sometimes it may add a further dimension to the content of music and text, as in the stage decorations that Schoenberg designed for his works and in the collaborative productions in Paris among Satie, Cocteau and Picasso (Parade, 1917) or Stravinsky's ballets.

Conceptually, the art of jackets for recordings belong to the same category. Here the thematic possibilities are innumerable and reach from historied pictures of performances and musicians' portraits to visual emulations of the structural, emotional, social or political content of the music.

6. Contextual sources: performance sites.

Places of ritual activity are not chosen by chance; ritual music is embedded in the visual and spiritual ambience of the site. Of course, in principle the spatial requirements of the ritual take precedence over musical ones. But, as long as the performance requirements are not in conflict with more important considerations, they will be observed so as to make the acoustical conditions, the space for dancing and the placement of musicians as favourable as possible. The more the purpose of the event shifts from the sacred towards the secular, the more music and dance will be the primary aspect of the event and will dictate the setting. Concert halls, opera houses, ballrooms, and music pavilions provide the opportunity for architects and engineers to combine functional criteria with aesthetic ones; they are among the most neglected objects of music-iconographical research. (For harmonic proportions in the other arts, see below, §III, 5.)

As to the interior decorations of rooms in which music is performed, the most prominent instance of a music room in Western culture with completely integrated decoration is the studiolo of the Italian Renaissance. Musical instruments and music books are represented in intarsia technique together with bookcases and other symbols of learning and the sophisticated use of leisure. A visual element in every music room is the musical instrument itself, be it the upright piano in the 19th-century bourgeois household or the qin suspended on the wall of a Chinese scholar's study.

A very popular type of book is the illustrated biography of a composer that displays a hotch-potch of visualia with rarely any discrimination, let alone any iconographical commentary. Nevertheless, in as far as the visual environment of a musician shapes his or her personality, and as far as it influences the users of the book, it is relevant for a psychogram of the musician and for reception history.

7. Music after pictures.

The increasing interest of 19th-century European artists in synaesthetic experiences led to the search for inspiration from outside the original medium. In music the result is the cultivation of programme music with literary themes as the main source and paintings an additional one (see Programme music, §2). Liszt used both media as an inspiration for his compositions.

His Totentanz (for piano and orchestra, 1839–65) drew from the dance of death cycles and the 14th-century painting Triumph of Death in the Camposanto of Pisa. His Hunnenschlacht for two pianos was inspired by the painting of that title by Wilhelm von Kaulbach (1856–7). Together with Dionys Brucker he played it in front of the picture.

The popularity of musical ideas derived from the visual arts decreased early in the 20th century – just at the time when a new artistic medium, film, made its appearance. The successor of music after paintings was film music, which in turn was replaced by composition for the sound track of films (see Film music).

3. Symbolic representations.

III. Themes

1. Religious themes.

2. Secular themes.

4. Portraits.

5. Synaesthetics.

Iconography, §III: Themes

1. Religious themes.

While a categorical split between sacred and secular music themes would frequently fail to do justice both to the contextual complexities of musical occasions and to the multiplicity of an image's meanings, it can nevertheless be said that in pictures with religious, metaphysical and philosophical subject matter the layers of meaning tend to be more numerous. It is no coincidence that the doctrine of fourfold meaning of scripture (and image) mentioned above was developed by theologians. On the other hand, sacred themes, in as far as they depict rituals, are also tied to the reality of any given culture, past or present. Some of the most important musical themes in religious art are considered below.

(i) The Christian and Jewish world.

In Christian and Jewish musical iconography Bible stories furnish a number of themes, in use for nearly 2000 years. The most important ones are:

(a) Acclamation to God after the crossing of the Red Sea by the prophetess Miriam and the women of Israel (after Exodus xv.20–21);

(b) Acclamation to a ruler by the women of Israel (1 Samuel xviii.6–7 for David; Judges xi.34 for Jephtha);

(d) Banquet scenes with music and dance (Genesis xl.20 in Egypt; Luke xv.13: lost son; Matthew xiv.6–7, Mark vi.21–2: banquet of Herod with Salome dancing);

(e) David playing his lyre or harp to soothe Saul's mental illness (1 Samuel xvi.14–23);

(f) The transfer of the Ark to Jerusalem with music and David dancing (2 Samuel vi.12–16);

(g) King David performing psalms with his lyre or harp (Psalms, passim);

(h) King David establishing liturgical service with instrumental music in the Temple (1 Chronicles xv.16–22; xxv.1–7);

(i) The derision at Christ on the Cross;

(j) The angels of the Last Judgment blowing trumpets or horns (Revelation, passim);

(k) The acclamation of the 24 Elders to the Lord (Revelation, passim).

In Western Christian history, many of these musical scenes gave rise to offsprings with theological, philosophical or music-theoretical conceptualizations. The most prominent examples are the canonized image of ‘David and his four liturgists, Asaph, Eman, Ethan, and Idithun’ (Steger, E1961), pictures of the eight modes (e.g. on two capitals of Cluny (Schrade, E1929) and in F-Pn lat.1118, ff.104r–114r (Seebass, Musikdarstellung, E1973), the so-called ‘Angel Concerts’, paintings of angelic acclamations in Marian iconography (e.g. the Nativity or Mary's ascent to heaven), or as decorations of church interiors acting as analogies for the believer, and biblical or saintly figures serving as patrons for music, such as Jubal, Tubalcain, David, and St Cecilia and the Dance of Death cycles and its relatives. As a counterbalance to the elevated character of image or text, artists create a droll world where animalistic and grotesque elements may have a place.

(ii) Islamic and Buddhist images.

Two major non-Western religions, Islam and Buddhism, place ‘Music and Dance in Paradise’ at the centre of their dogma. Both shape their vision after the reality of courtly entertainment. For Islam, the setting – developed from the original Persian idea of a fenced hunting ground – is a garden with water sources and shady trees, where drinks are provided and music and dance performed. For Buddhism, the setting is more formal: the Buddha or a Bodhisattva is sitting on a throne, surrounded by followers, while in front of him, often on a stage, a dance performance with orchestral accompaniment is taking place.

(iii) Images of rituals.

Most non-Western religions match or surpass Christianity as far as the role of music for rituals is concerned. Whether or not music scenes are depicted depends on the value placed on visual representations. Examples include:

(a) outdoor rituals linked to fertility cults, such as the representation of mother cult with dancing women on Minoan geams or the veneration of the sun in a painting in an Aztec manuscript (Martí, C1970);

(b) shamanistic rituals linked to curing the sick, calling down rain, hunting or warfare;

(c) funeral rites, such as dance and music at the bier of the deceased on Greek vase paintings (Wegner, C1963), the soul-ship with bronze drums and mouth organ players on South-east Asian bronze drums (Pirazzoli-t’Serstevens, H1988) or dance and drumming at a funeral represented on a Yoruba clay pot (Willet, H1977); and

(d) temple rituals.

(iv) Myths.

Particularly rich in music scenes are the myths of Near Eastern and Greek cultures of Antiquity and their offsprings (such as the tale of Alexander that spread from eastern Christian cultures to the West and also far into Asia; fig.2), as well as Hinduism and Buddhism.

Iconography, §III: Themes

2. Secular themes.

The demarcation lines between ritual, liturgical and religious on one side and ceremonial, private, and secular on the other are not of course, always clear. Until the formation of an urban middle class, music and art as leisure activities were developed by the upper levels of societies with a literate tradition. Their economic surplus permitted the well-to-do to keep musicians who would entertain them and painters who would celebrate, among other themes, their musical activities.

In non-literate cultures, portrayals of musical esturity are usually connected with rituals; other musical occasions find their way only slowly into pictorial representation. This happens through two different avenues. One leads through secularization of the popular culture itself; it absorbs and there imitates the modalities of upper-class life. The other proceeds in the opposite direction: the upper class reflect in their art the culture of lower classes, for encyclopaedic or satirical purposes, out of a wish to regain Arcadian innocence, or through ethnic or social interest. When the borderlines between the strata disappear, the visual themes lose their attachment to the previous social environment and become available to everyone until new relationships are formed.

A list of secular pictorial themes that pertain to music should include:

(a) pictures celebrating the political power and cultural patronage of the sponsor with representations of court music of the formal type (acclamations, receptions, festive music with dance, triumphal processions etc.; fig.3);

(b) the genre painting and pictures originating in less formal contexts with representations of informal music-making at court and among the educated (music and art for their own sake, in the salon or the homes of the bourgeoisie, for leisure, hunting etc.). Two topics – music and love-making, and the music lesson – are preferred themes in genre painting; they are no less frequent in East Asia, often in combination with drinking and eating, on drinking cups and dishes and eating bowls made of silver or ceramic, in miniature painting, on silk screens etc.;

(c) representations of public music, for battles and tournaments, in processions and cortèges, at weddings and funerals, in the circus, at public baths, at the opera or concerts etc.;

(d) pictures of music as a healing force, sponsor of love etc.;

(e) pictures of popular music in the open, in the tavern, the bordello etc.;

(f) representation of popular music in popular art; and

The Pythagoreans established direct links between musical structures and those in the other arts and sciences. But it was only during the time of humanism, with architecture taking the lead, that these parallels began to be effectively explored. In painting, the Romantics were the first to pursue such parallels. Philipp Otto Runge wrote to Karl Privat (4 August, 1802) that his painting Lehrstunde der Nachtigall was analogous to a fugue: ‘Here I learnt that similar things happen in our [visual] art, namely that it becomes easier if one understands the musical structure underlying a composition and if it repeatedly shines through the work’ (Runge, M1942, pp.124–5). The 20th century relied mostly on structuralism as the sponsor of synaesthetic ideas: the idea of the composer as a constructor, and music as a construction, fascinated artists. In most cases the parallels are sought out intuitively, as for instance in Satie's Sports et divertissements, composed after the coloured engravings by Charles Martin, or in Paul Klee's paintings with musical subject matter. Others experimented with almost mechanical transfers of the parameters of sound and colour, surface and line (see Skryabin's Prométhée or Robert Strübin's Musikbild - Frédéric Chopin, Scherzo II, Opus 31…, Basle, Kunstmuseum).

An interdisciplinary reflection between painter and composer occurred in the circle of the Blaue Reiter in Munich, where Kandinsky and Schoenberg developed parallel theories for abstract art and atonal, 12-note music. Kandinsky, in his epochal treatise Über das Geistige in der Kunst (1911), writes in Chapter 4 that music, for centuries, succeeds ‘in using its means not for the representation of the phenomena of Nature but for the expression of the emotional life of the artist and for the creation of an autonomous life [eigenartiges Leben] of musical sound’. To imagine colours means to hear inner sounds. Shapes and colours have a musical resonance for the onlooker. Seeking representation of the internal, the visual arts use music as their model. ‘This explains the contemporary artist's search for rhythm, for mathematical, abstract construction, the modern esteem for the repetition of coloured sound, the way in which colour can be made to move etc.’ (ed. M. Bill, Berne, 8/1965, pp.54–5).

It is principally the idea of music as a composed work that provides the basis for synaesthetic experiments and the stipulation of colours and forms. Hence painters' frequent adoption of the term ‘composition’ or ‘fugue’ as titles for their canvasses. M.K. Čiurlionis, himself both painter and composer, did this (even with four-‘movement’ sets of paintings as ‘sonatas’ in the early years of the century). Lionel Feininger and especially Paul Klee were also leading figures. While Klee never reflected on the aesthetic inconsistency between musical structures of the past and abstract art of the present, Kandinsky saw in Schoenberg's compositions with 12 notes of equal importance the last consequence of a constructionism that had been immanent in music for centuries but absent in concrete art. Others, for example Franz Marc, emphasize the move into abstraction in both arts as the result of a revolutionary break with the past.

The most typical aspect of music, its process in time, is for obvious reasons rarely a subject for visualization (and even more rarely a subject of art historical analysis). A happy exception among modern works with musical subject matter is Mondrian's painting Broadway Boogie Woogie (1942–3; New York, Museum of Modern Art): using the flickering neon lights of Manhattan at night as a mediating metaphor, it successfully translates the ostinato pattern, the running rhythm and the exhilarating mood of the music into a network of coloured dots.

The more historically remote a music culture is from the present time, the more difficult it is to assemble evidence. In non-Western cultures and in earlier periods of European culture musical notation was rare and covered only a select repertory. Scholars dealing with pre-history, ancient and medieval cultures have therefore long resorted to the study of pictures and texts. In the 19th century, with positivism prevailing, depictions of musical instruments were taken prima facie, but in the first quarter of the 20th-century attitudes began to change.

IV. Depictions

1. Instruments.

How much we can trust a picture over organological detail and the accuracy of its representation of performance depends on many factors, of which the most obvious is the picture's purpose. If its aim is the naturalistic representation of reality, if it wants to testify to a patron's musical taste and glorify his sponsorship, accuracy will be a major concern and the image may be suitable for organological analysis. A second factor is the stylistic environment, in art-historical terms. While Graeco-Roman art and the Renaissance seek the study and imitation of nature, the Middle Ages and the late 19th century set different priorities. A third point is the technical interest in creating likeness of image and object, for example in matters of perspective, colour or material – an endeavour typical for the painters of still lives, for example. But if the content is emblematic or symbolical, if it crosses the borders of time and place, the artist may content himself with a few identifiers of shape or handling of an instrument.

In all contexts, organological eclecticism seems to be the norm among artists; they may pay attention to the correct handling of instruments but not to the grouping of players or overall proportions; they may be faithful to the combination of participants but not to the reaction of the audience, to details of the instrument or to the musical notation. Furthermore, the artistic medium may place limit upon accuracy. A thick brush would not allow the drawing of details necessary for the depiction of a Boehm clarinet or a mouth organ; the harp is unsuitable for representation in a clay sculpture.

Terminological considerations may be of crucial importance. The instrument in a picture (fig.7) may be determined in modern language as a triangular psaltery; following the organological terminology of Sachs and Hornbostel it may be called a box zither, in the class of chordophones; or the caption ‘psalterium decacordum’ (although it shows 20 strings) may be followed linking it to the scientific language of the contemporary medieval scholar; it can be called a ‘rotte’, as Herrad of Landsberg probably did in her mother tongue.

It is clear, then, that pictures of instruments yield the most reliable conclusions if the context is thoroughly explored and as much comparative material as possible (such as texts and other pictures) is assembled. In pre-historic and non-literate cultures, pictorial and archaeological evidence are the only source for the reconstruction of the past. In literate cultures of antiquity, in East and West, texts may join the two other sources; the three together (with pictures predominant) permit an amazingly detailed insight into the musical life of certain social strata, as can easily be gathered from the pertinent sections in a number of articles in this dictionary. This remains true for the Eastern Middle Ages too, but not for Western Europe, where literate culture almost disappeared. In the last 500 years, extant instruments have slowly replaced other types of evidence and have relegated pictorial sources to a secondary role.

2. Scores.

The visual arts were of special importance to the invention of music engraving. The technique goes back to the image-motets of the late 16th-century Netherlands inspired by panel paintings with painted music leaves (Seiffert, F1918–19; Hammerstein, F1991). Musical notation in paintings usually poses fewer problems of interpretation than musical instruments and performance, because the line between the legible and the illegible is clear. If the artist merely wants to indicate that composed and written music is intended, a simile is sufficient. But if the musical text provides the key to an understanding of the picture, it will be given as precisely as necessary for identification.

3. Performance.

What has been said about organological analysis of pictures also applies in some degree to the study of performing practice. If the representation of musical execution is supposed to give details of handling, the reliability may be treacherous, because the artist is not generally also a musician, and, as the precise significance of (for example) a violinist's hand position will not be plain to him or her, will be likely to err. If the emphasis is on gesture, body movement, and physical expression, a good deal of ‘truthfulness’ can be expected. The visual aspects of music-making, the affect by which the musician is driven, and the effects music exerts on audiences are attractive features for artists whose goal it is to visualize music as a unique art form. Standard formations of musical ensembles such as the capella alta for dance music in the Renaissance or a string quartet are most likely to be captured unchanged, but where ensembles are large or not closely defined by the genre, non-musical considerations or technical limitation come into play (fig.3). After all, the impression of completeness in a caricature of a symphony orchestra or African ensemble of drummers and dancers is more relevant to the viewer than precise numbers or correct positioning. Aesthetic considerations of space and distribution of pictorial elements and colours may well take precedence over accuracy as far as aspects of performance are concerned. Finally there is an enormous mass of images where social messages or emblematic contents drastically overrule naturalistic depiction or where social factors take precedence over the hierarchy among musicians or where combinations of players stand for spiritual concepts rather than actual performance.

4. Dance.

A coherent theory of dance iconography, in particular of the visualization of rhythm, is still lacking (Seebass, E1991). But much of what has been said about the iconography of music applies equally to dance. A fundamental difference is that dance is visible; the primary element does not have to be translated. This gives the dance picture a proximity to the performance that is not open to the music picture.

The specific nature of dance has a direct impact on its visualization. Dance types based on improvised kinetic flow or on individualized expression resist depiction since their main feature is a process in time (fig.8). By contrast, dance types consisting of a series of positions lend themselves easily to depiction, since each position captures the essence of the meaning of the choreutic moment. Such dances are found in the courtly milieu in Asia and in the European ballet. Some Asian dance cultures – probably as a result of the cultivation of dance drama – have equated dance positions with emotions and thoughts. The most prominent example is the Indian rasa system, precisely described emotions formalized in positions of the body (or its parts) and representable through the visual arts, or actualized in dance. Here, too, as in the cases of the emblematic use of musical instruments, the term figura is useful. Artist and dancer can gain their vision of this figura in meditation and there is no fundamental difference whether it is ultimately carved into a stone relief, acted out in dancing or only through words. The dancing Śiva is experienced both as an act and an image.

Whenever the planometric design of a complete dance (Greek orchēsis) results in an image or a letter, it can obtain at least the quality of an emblem, if not a figura. Sometimes it remains observable as a groove in the ice or in the sand (e.g. an Indian snake dance) sometimes it leaves no trace on the ground but the painter or engraver can represent it as a summary (e.g. in engravings of Baroque dance festivities). Otherwise the iconographer will have to rely on the secondary elements as identifiers, such as the age and sex of participants, the headdress, the costume and specific paraphernalia (such as flowers or weapons).

c: collected works, series

BIBLIOGRAPHY

a: bibliographies

b: method and history

d: catalogues

e: european art

f: instruments, notation and performance (europe)

g: folk music

h: non-european art

i: instruments and performance (outside europe)

j: the musical instrument as an image

k: contextual sources (performance sites)

l: portraits

m: music and the visual arts

For further bibliography see Musicology.

based on MGG2 (vi, 1319–43), by permission of Bärenreiter

a: bibliographies

MGG2 (‘Musik und bildende Kunst’, R. Ketteler, J. Jewanski and L. Finscher; ‘Musikikonographie’, T. Seebass)

F. Crane: A Bibliography of the Iconography of Music (Iowa City, 1971)

Imago musicae (1984–) [annual bibl.]

b: method and history

Grove6 (H.M. Brown)

E. Panofsky: ‘Iconography and Iconology: an Introduction to the Study of Renaissance Art’, Studies in Iconology (New York, 1939/R), 3–31

J. Białostocki: ‘Iconography and Iconology’, Encyclopedia of World Art (New York, 1963)

W. Korte: ‘Kunstgeschichte und Musikwissenschaft: eine vergessene musikhistorische Diskussion’, Festschrift Werner Hager, ed. G. Fiensch and M. Imdahl (Recklinghausen, 1966), 168–77

E. Winternitz: ‘The Iconology of Music: Potentials and Pitfalls’, Perspectives in Musicology, ed. B.S. Brook, E.O.D. Downes and S. Van Solkema (New York, 1972), 80–90

J.W. McKinnon: ‘Iconography’, Musicology in the 1980s: Boston 1981, 79–93

F. Guizzi: ‘Considerazioni preliminari sull'iconografia come fonte ausiliaria nella ricerca etnomusicologica’, RIM, xviii (1983), 87–101

R. Hammerstein: ‘Musik and bildende Kunst: zur Theorie und Geschichte ihrer Beziehungen’, Imago musicae, i (1984), 1–28

T. Seebass: ‘The Illustration of Music Theory in the Late Middle Ages: Some Thoughts on its Principles and a Few Examples’, Music Theory and its Sources: Antiquity and the Middle Ages: South Bend, IN, 1987, 197–234

M. Slobin: ‘Icons of Ethnicity: Pictorial Themes in Commercial Euro-American Music’, Imago musicae, v (1988), 129–43

F. Guizzi: ‘Visual Message and Music in Cultures with Oral Tradition’, Imago musicae, vii (1990), 7–23

B.C. Wade: Imaging Sound: an Ethnomusicological Study of Music, Art and Culture in Mughal India (Chicago, 1998)

c: collected works, series

K. Andorfer and R. Epstein, eds.: Musica in nummis (Vienna, 1907)

W. von Zur Western: Musiktitel aus vier Jahrhunderten: Festschrift anlässlich des 75jährigen Bestehens der Firma C.G. Röder, Leipzig (Leipzig, 1921)

A.K. Porter: Romanesque Sculpture of the Pilgrimage Roads (Boston, 1923/R)

E. Bücken, ed.: Handbuch der Musikwissenschaft (Potsdam, 1928–34)

G. Kinsky, R. Haas and H. Schnoor: Geschichte der Musik in Bildern (Leipzig, 1929; Eng. trans., 1930)

E. Bücken, ed.: Die grossen Meister (Potsdam, 1932–)

M. Bernardi and A. della Corte: Gli strumenti musicali nei dipinti della Galleria degli Uffizi (Turin, 1952)

Musica Kalender (Kassel, 1954–)

Minzu Yinyue Yanjiusuo, ed.: Zhongguo yinyue shi cankao tupian [Illustrations for reference on Chinese music history] (Shanghai and Beijing, 1954–64)

J. Banach: Tematy muzyczne w plastyce polskiej (Kraków, 1956–62; Ger. trans., 1957–65)

D. Keresztury, J. Vécsey and Z. Falvy: A magyar zenetörténet képeskönyve [The history of Hungarian music in pictures] (Budapest, 1960)

H. Besseler, M. Schneider and W. Bachmann, eds.: Musikgeschichte in Bildern (Leipzig, 1961–89) [incl. M. Wegner: Griechenland, 1963; S. Martí: Alt-Amerika, 1970]

G.S. Fraenkel, ed.: Decorative Music Title Pages (New York, 1968)

F. Lesure, ed.: Iconographie musicale (Geneva, 1972–)

R. and U. Henning: Zeugnisse alter Musik: Graphik aus fünf Jahrhunderten (Herrsching, 1975)

R. Pečman, ed.: Hudba a výtvarné umění: Frýdek Místek 1977

T. Volek and S. Jareš: The History of Czech music in Pictures (Prague, 1977) [in Cz., Ger. and Eng.]

W. Salmen: Bilder zur Geschichte der Musik in Österreich (Innsbruck, 1979)

Liu Dongsheng and Yuan Quanyou, eds.: Zhongguo yinyue shi tujian [Pictorial guide to the history of Chinese music] (Beijing, 1988) [YYS publication]

B. Brumana and G. Ciliberti, eds.: Musica e immagine: tra iconografia e mondo dell'opera: studi in onore di Massimo Bogianckino (Florence, 1993)

Musikalische Ikonographie: Hamburg 1991 [HJbMw, xii (1994)]

F. Zannoni, ed.: Le immagini della musica: Rome 1994

P. Kuret, ed.: Glasba in likovna umetnost: Koncerti, Simpozij; Musik und bildende Kunst: Konzerte, Symposium: Ljubljana 1996 (Ljubljana, 1996)

d: catalogues

M.F. Schneider: Alte Musik in der bildenden Kunst Basels (Basle, 1941)

M.F. Schneider: Musik der Neuzeit in der bildenden Kunst Basels (Basle, 1944)

L.B. Meyer: A History of Musical Instruments in Slides (Chicago, c1951)

A.G. Hess: Italian Renaissance Paintings with Musical Subjects: a Corpus of Such Works in American Collections (New York, 1955)

L. Vorreiter: ‘Musikikonographie des Altertums im Schrifttum 1850–1949 and 1950–1974’, AcM, xlvi (1974), 1–42

B. Galeyev: Muzïka i izobrazitel'noye iskusstvo: bibliograficheskii ukazatel'knig i statey na russkom yazïke 1917–74 [Music and the visual arts: a bibliography of books and articles in Russian, 1917–1974], ed. N.G. Pavlova (Moscow, 1976)

I. Hottois: L'iconographie musicale dans les manuscrits de la Bibliothèque royale Albert Ier (Brussels, 1982)

Musical Scenes in Japanese Arts: Catalogue of Musical Instruments in Pictures from the Heian to the Edo Period (Tokyo, 1984) [annual report of Kunitachi College of Music, v, in Jap.]

The Art of Music: American Paintings and Musical Instruments 1770–1910 (Clinton, NY, 1984) [exhibition catalogue]

H.M. Brown: ‘Catalogus: a Corpus of Trecento Pictures with Musical Subject Matter’, Imago musicae, i (1984), 189–243; ii (1985), 179–281; iii (1986), 103–87; v (1988), 167–243

P.M. Della Porta and E. Genovesi, eds.: Iconografia musicale in Umbria tra XII e XIV secolo, Assisi, 5–12 Sept 1984 (Assisi, 1984) [exhibition catalogue]

T. Seebass, ed.: Imago musicae (1984–)

P.M. Della Porta and others, eds.: Iconografia musicale in Umbria tra XII e XIV secolo, Assisi, Sept 1985 (Assisi, 1985) [exhibition catalogue]

T. Ford, ed.: RIdIM/RCMI Inventory of Music Iconography (New York, 1986–)

P.M. Della Porta and others, eds.: Iconografia musicale in Umbria nel XV secolo, Assisi, 1987 (Assisi, 1987) [exhibition catalogue]

U. Henning: Musica Maximiliana: die Musikgraphiken in den bibliophilen Unternehmungen Kaiser Maximilians I (Neu-Ulm, 1987)

M. Kyrova: European Musical Instruments: RIdIM – Prints and Drawings from the Iconographic Collections of the Haags Gemeentemuseum (Zug, 1987) [guide to microfiche collection]

F. Berti and D. Restani: Lo specchio della musica: iconografia musicale nella ceramica attica di Spina (Bologna, 1988)

E. Lagnier: Iconografia musicale in Valle d'Aosta (Rome, 1988)

J. Ballester i Gibert: ‘Retablos marianos tardomedievales con ángeles músicos procedentes del antiguo reino de Aragón: catálogo’, RdMc, xiii (1990), 123–201

J.J. Martín González and M.A. Virgili Blanquet: Las Edades del Hombre: la música en la iglesia de Castilla y León (Valladolid, 1991) [exhibition catalogue]

I.B. Magnus and B. Kjellström: Musikmotiv i Svensk kyrkokonst: Uppland fram till 1625/Musical Motifs in Swedish Church Art (Stockholm, 1993)

M. Carlone: Iconografia musicale nell'arte biellese, vercellese e valsesiana: un catalogo ragionato (Rome, 1995)

F. Gétreau, ed.: Musique – Images – Instruments (Paris, 1995–)

e: european art

G. Kastner: Les danses des morts (Paris, 1852)

G. Kastner: Les sirènes (Paris, 1858)

E. Mâle: ‘Les arts libéraux dans la statuaire du Moyen Age’, Revue archéologique, 3rd ser., xvii (1891), 334–46

J. von Schlosser: ‘Giusto's Fresken in Padua und die Vorläufer der Stanza della Segnatura’, Jb der kunsthistorischen Sammlungen des allerhöchsten Kaiserhauses, new ser., xvii (1896), 13–100

A. Delatt: ‘La musique au tombeau dans l'antiquité’, Revue archéologique, 4th ser., xxi (1913), 318–32

L. Schrade: ‘Die Darstellung der Töne an den Kapitellen der Abteikirche zu Cluni: ein Beitrag zum Symbolismus in mittelalterlicher Kunst’, DVLG, vii (1929), 229–66

L. Castellani: ‘L'estasi di S. Cecilia di Raffaello’, Arte cristiana, xxiii (1935)

W. Gurlitt: ‘Die Musik in Raffaels Heiliger Caecilia’, JbMP 1938, 84–97

E. Reuter: Les représentations de la musique dans la sculpture romane en France (Paris, 1938)

L. Parigi: Musiche in pittura (Signa, 1939)

C. de Tolnay: ‘The Music of the Universe: Notes on a Painting by Bicci di Lorenzo’, Journal of the Walters Art Gallery, vi (1943), 83–104

M.-T. d'Alverny: ‘La Sagesse et ses sept filles: recherches sur les allégories de la Philosophie et des Arts libéraux du IXe au XII siècle’, Mélanges dédiés à la mémoire de Félix Grat, i (Paris, 1946), 245–78

K. Meyer: ‘The Eight Gregorian Modes on the Cluny Capitals’, Art Bulletin, xxxiv (1952), 75–94

E.E. Lowinsky: ‘The Music in St. Jerome's Study’, Art Bulletin, xli (1959), 298–301

G. Bandmann: Melancholie und Musik: ikonographische Studien (Cologne, 1960)

A.P. de Mirimonde: ‘Les sujets musicaux chez Vermeer de Delft’, Gazette des beaux-arts, 6th ser., lvii (1961), 29–52

H. Steger: David rex et propheta: König David als vorbildliche Verkörperung des Herrschers und Dichters im Mittelalter, nach Bilddarstellungen des achten bis zwölften Jahrhunderts (Nuremberg, 1961)

R. Hammerstein: Die Musik der Engel (Berne and Munich, 1962, 2/1990)

M.-T. d'Alverny: ‘Les muses et les sphères célestes’, Storia e letteratura, xciv (1964), ii, 7–19

A.P. de Mirimonde: ‘Les concerts des Muses chez les maîtres du nord’, Gazette des beaux-arts, lxiii (1964), 129–58

F. Lesure: Musica e società (Milan, 1966; Eng. trans., 1968, as Music and Art in Society)

E. Winternitz: Musical Instruments and their Symbolism in Western Art (New York, 1967, 2/1979)

D. Schuberth: Kaiserliche Liturgie: die Einbeziehung von Musikinstrumenten, insbesondere der Orgel, in den frühmittelalterlichen Gottesdienst (Göttingen, 1968)

E. Panofsky: Problems in Titian, mostly Iconographic (London, 1969)

K. Meyer-Baer: Music of the Spheres and the Dance of Death (Princeton, NJ, 1970)

A. Pilipczuk: ‘Ein musikalisches Kartenspiel aus dem letzten Drittel des 18. Jahrhunderts’, Jb der Hamburger Kunstsammlungen, xvi (1971), 119–46

T. Seebass: ‘Die Bedeutung des Utrechter Psalters für die Musikgeschichte’, Kunst-en muziekhistorische Bijdragen tot de bestudering van het Utrechts Psalterium (Utrecht, 1973), 33–48

T. Seebass: Musikdarstellung und Psalterillustration im früheren Mittelalter (Berne, 1973)

R. Hammerstein: Diabolus in musica: Studien zur Ikonographie der Musik im Mittelalter (Berne and Munich, 1974)

P.E. Carapezza: ‘Regina angelorum in musica picta: Walter Frye e il “Maitre au feuillage brodé”’, RIM, x (1975), 134–54

C. Cuttler: ‘Job – Music – Christ’, Bulletin [Institut Royal du Patrimoine Artistique], xv (1975), 86–94

P. Fischer: Music in Paintings of the Low Countries in the 16th and 17th Centuries (Amsterdam, 1975)

S. Wichmann: Carl Spitzweg, 1808-1885: Ständchen-, Serenaden und Straßensängerbilder (Starnberg, 1975)

A.P. de Mirimonde: L'iconographie musicale sous les rois Bourbons: la musique dans les arts plastiques (XVIIe–XVIIIe siècles) (Paris, 1975–7)

S. Jareš: ‘Traktát “Zrcadlo člověčieho spasenie” jako hudebně ikonografický pramen’ [The treatise “Speculum humanae salvationis” as a source for musical iconography], HV, xiii (1976), 81–5

H.C. Slim: The Prodigal Son at the Whores': Music, Art, and Drama (Irvine, CA, 1976)

A.M. Kettering: ‘Rembrandt's “Flute Player”: a Unique Treatment of Pastoral’, Simiolus, ix (1977), 19–44

R.D. Leppert: The Theme of Music in Flemish Paintings of the Seventeenth Century (Munich, 1977)

A.P. de Mirimonde: ‘Rubens et la musique’, Jaarboek van het Koninklijk Museum voor Schone Kunsten Antwerpen (1977), 97–197

C.J. Oja: ‘The Still-Life Paintings of William Michael Harnett (their Reflections upon Nineteenth-Century American Musical Culture)’, MQ, lxiii (1977), 505–23

J. Braun: ‘Musical Iconography in the Byzantine Manuscripts from the Greek patriarchate in Jerusalem and St. Catherine's Monastery on Mount Sinai: a Preliminary Report’, Tatzlil xviii/10 (1978), 90–95

B. Disertori: La musica nei quadri antichi (Trent, 1978)

P.C. Finney: ‘Orpheus – David: a Connection in Iconography between Greco-Roman Judaism and Early Christianity’, Journal of Jewish Art, v (1978), 6–15

R.D. Leppert: Arcadia at Versailles: Noble Amateur Musicians and their Musettes and Hurdy-Gurdies at the French Court (c. 1660–1789) – a Visual Study (Amsterdam, 1978)

A.P. Mirimonde: ‘Les vanités à personnages et à instruments de musique’, Gazette des beaux-arts, 6th ser., xcii (1978), 115–30; xciv (1979), 61–8

W.S. Sheard: ‘The Widener “Orpheus”: Attribution, Type, Invention’, Collaboration in Italian Renaissance Art, ed. W.S. Sheard and J.T. Paoletti (New Haven, CT, 1978), 189–231

A. Ziino: ‘Laudi e miniature fiorentine del primo trecento’, Studi musicali, vii (1978), 39–84

B.R. Hanning: ‘Glorious Apollo: Poetic and Political Themes in the First Opera’, Renaissance Quarterly, xxxii (1979), 485–513

T. Seebass: ‘Venus und die Musikwissenschaft oder Von der Universalität eines reformatorischen Buchmachers’, Totum me libris dedo: Festschrift zum 80. Geburtstag von Adolf Seebass, ed. A. Moirandat, H. Spilker and V. Tammann (Basle, 1979), 187–99

E. Smulikowska: ‘The Symbolism of Musical Scenes and Ornamental Motifs in Organ Cases’, Organ Yearbook, x (1979), 5–14

K.-A. Wirth: ‘Die kolorierten Federzeichnungen im Cod.2975 der Österreichischen Nationalbibliothek: ein Beitrag zur Ikonographie der Artes Liberales im 15. Jahrhundert’, Anzeiger des Germanischen Nationalmuseums (1979), 67–110

R. Hammerstein: Tanz und Musik des Todes: die mittelalterlichen Totentänze und ihr Nachleben (Berne and Munich, 1980)

D. Hoffmann-Axthelm: ‘Instrumentensymbolik und Aufführungspraxis: zum Verhältnis von Symbolik und Realität in der mittelalterlichen Musikanschauung’, Basler Jb für historische Musikpraxis, iv (1980), 9–90

D. Rosand: ‘“Ermeneutica amorosa”: Observations on the Interpretation of Titian's Venuses’, Tiziano e Venezia: Venice 1976 (Venice, 1980), 375–81

L. Seth: ‘Vermeer och van Veens Amorum emblemata’, Kunsthistorisk tidskrift, xlix/1 (1980), 17–40

U. Fabricius: ‘Musik und Musikinstrumente in Darstellungen der frühchristlichen Kunst’, Festschrift für Bruno Grusnick, ed. R. Saltzwedel and K.D. Koch (Neuhausen-Stuttgart, 1981), 54–80

K.J. Hellerstedt: ‘A Traditional Motif in Rembrandt's Etchings: the Hurdy-Gurdy Player’, Oud Holland, xcv (1981), 16–30

R.D. Leppert: ‘Johann Georg Plazer: Music and Visual Allegory’, Music East and West: Essays in Honor of Walter Kaufmann, ed. T. Noblitt (New York, 1981), 209–24

F. Maschke: Die Kunst im Dienst der Staatsidee Kaiser Karls VI: Ikonographie, Ikonologie und Programmatik des “Kaiserstils” (Berlin and New York, 1981)

E. Höhle and others: ‘Die Neidhart-Fresken im Haus Tuchlauben 19 in Wien: zum Fund profaner Wandmalereien der Zeit um 1400’, Österreichische Zeitschrift für Kunst und Denkmalpflege, xxxvi/3–4 (1982), 110–44

C.-H. Mahling: ‘Bemerkungen zur “Illustrierten Zeitung” als Quelle zur Musikgeschichte des 19. Jahrhunderts’, FAM, xxix (1982), 158–60

D. Möller: Untersuchungen zur Symbolik der Musikinstrumente im Narrenschiff des Sebastian Brant (Regensburg, 1982)

H.C. Worbs: Das Dampfkonzert: Musik and Musikleben des 19. Jahrhunderts in der Karikatur (Wilhelmshaven, 1982)

L'estasi di Santa Cecilia di Raffaello da Urbino nella Pinacoteca Nazionale di Bologna (Bologna, 1983) [exhibition catalogue]

M.S. Podles: ‘Virtue and Vice: Paintings and Sculpture in Two Pictures from the Walters Collection’, Journal of the Walters Art Gallery, xli (1983), 29–44

T. Seebass: ‘The Visualisation of Music through Pictorial Imagery and Notation in Late Mediaeval France’, Studies in the Performance of Late Mediaeval Music, ed. S. Boorman (Cambridge, 1983), 19–33

H.M. Brown: ‘St. Augustine, Lady Music, and the Gittern in Fourteenth-Century Italy’, MD, xxxviii (1984), 25–65

J.W. McKinnon: ‘The Fifteen Temple Steps and the Gradual Psalms’, Imago musicae, i (1984), 29–49

H.C. Slim: ‘Paintings of Lady Concerts and the Transmission of “Jouissance vous donneray”’, Imago musicae, i (1984), 51–73

N. van Deusen: ‘Manuscript and Milieu: Illustration in Liturgical Music Manuscripts’, Gordon Athol Anderson, 1929–81, in memoriam, ed. L.A. Dittmer, i (Henryville, PA, 1984), 71–86

E. Weddingen: ‘Jacopo Tintoretto und die Musik’, Artibus et Historiae, x (1984), 67–119

C. Fernández-Ladedra: Iconografía musical de la Catedral de Pamplona (Pamplona, 1985)

J. Hermand: Adolf Menzel, das Flötenkonzert in Sanssouci: ein realistisch geträumtes Preussenbild (Frankfurt, 1985)

I. Vierimaa: ‘Music in the Struggle between Good and Evil: Mythical Motifs in Finnish Medieval Frescoes’, Musiikin suunta, vii/1 (1985), 21–31

U. Birk: Ikonologische Studien zur Darstellung Apolls in der bildenden Kunst von ca.1400–1600 (diss., U. of Bonn, 1986)

E. Dietrich: ‘Ikonographische Darstellungen der Lyra als Sternbild in mittelalterlichen Handschriften der österreichischen Nationalbibliothek zu Wien’, SMw, xxxvii (1986), 7–12

M. Holl: ‘“Der Musica Triumph”: ein Bilddokument von 1607 zur Auffassung des Humanismus in Deutschland’, Imago musicae, iii (1986), 9–30

E.E. Lowinsky: Cipriano de Rore's Venus Motet: its Poetic and Pictorial Sources (Provo, UT, 1986)

N.K. Moran: Singers in Late Byzantine and Slavonic Painting (Leiden, 1986)

N. Salomon: ‘Political Iconography in a Painting by Jan Miense Molenaer’, Hoogsteder-Naumann Mercury, iv (1986), 23–38

J. Bernstock: ‘Guercino's “Et in Arcadia Ego” and “Apollo Flaying Marsyas”’, Studies in Iconography, xi (1987), 137–83

M.L. Evan: ‘New Light on the “Sforziada” Frontispieces of Giovan Pietro Birago’, British Library Journal, xiii (1987), 232–47

G. Francastel: ‘Le “Concert champêtre” du Louvre et les espaces signifiants’, La Letteratura, la rappresentazione, la musica al tempo e nei luoghi di Giorgione, ed. M. Muraro (Rome, 1987), 215–21

F. Gétreau: ‘Watteau et la musique: réalité et interprétations’, Antoine Watteau (1684–1721), le peintre, son temps et sa légende, ed. F. Moureau and M.M. Grasselli (Paris and Geneva, 1987), 235–46

M. Jullian and G. Le Vot: ‘Notes sur la cohérence formelle des miniatures à sujet musical du manuscrit b.I.2 de l'Escorial’, RdMc, x (1987), 105–14

H.C. Slim: ‘Tintoretto's “Music-Making Women” at Dresden’, Imago musicae, iv (1987), 45–78

T. Wind: ‘Musical Participation in Sixteenth-Century Triumphal Entries in the Low Countries’, TVNM, xxxvii (1987), 111–69

F. Dobbins: ‘Le concert dans l'oeuf et la musique dans la tradition de Jérôme Bosch’, Musiques, signes, images: liber amicorum François Lesure, ed. J.-M. Fauquet (Geneva, 1988), 99–116

J.H. Planer: ‘Damned Music: the Symbolism of the Bagpipes in the Art of Hieronymus Bosch and his Followers’, Music from the Middle Ages through the Twentieth Century: Essays in Honor of Gwynn S. McPeek, ed. C.P. Comberiati and M.C. Steel (New York, 1988), 335–57

E.A. Bowles: Musical Ensembles in Festival Books, 1500–1800: an Iconographical and Documentary Survey (Ann Arbor, 1989)

D.J. Buch: ‘The Coordination of Text, Illustration, and Music in a Seventeenth-Century Lute Manuscript: La rhétorique des dieux’, Imago musicae, vi (1989), 39–81

F.T. Camiz: ‘La “Musica” nei quadri del Caravaggio’, Quaderni di Palazzo Venezia, vi (1989), 198–221

N. van Deusen: The Harp and the Soul: Essays in Medieval Music (Lewiston, NY, 1989)

O.H. Jander: ‘The Radoux Portrait of Beethoven's Grandfather: its Symbolic Message’, Imago musicae, vi (1989), 83–107

D. Manon: ‘The Singing “Lute-Player” by Caravaggio from the Barberini Collection, Painted for Cardinal Del Monte’, Burlington Magazine, cxxxii (1990), 5–20

E. Motzkin: ‘The Meaning of Titian's “Concert champêtre” in the Louvre’, Gazette des beaux-arts, 6th ser., cxvi (1990), 51–65

H.C. Slim: ‘Dosso Dossi's “Allegory at Florence” about Music’, JAMS, xliii (1990), 43–98

L. Beschi: ‘Mousikè Téchne e Thánatos: l'immagine della musica sulle lekythoi funerarie attiche a fondo bianco’, Imago musicae, viii (1991), 39–59

J. Braun: ‘Die Musikikonographie des Dionysoskultes im römischen Palästina’, Imago musicae, viii (1991), 109–33

A. Buckley: ‘Music-Related Imagery on Early Christian Insular Sculpture: Identification, Context, Function’, Imago musicae, viii (1991), 135–99

A. Goulaki-Voutira: ‘Observations on Domestic Music Making in Vase Paintings of the Fifth Century B.C.’, Imago musicae, viii (1991), 73–94

T. Seebass: ‘The Power of Music in Greek Vase Painting: Reflections on the Visualization of rhythmos (Order) and epaoidē (Enchanting Song)’, Imago musicae, viii (1991), 11–37

V. Herzner: ‘Tizians “Venus mit dem Orgelspieler”’, Begegnungen: Festschrift Peter Anselm Riedl zum 60. Geburtstag (Worms, 1993), 80–103

T. Connolly: Mourning into Joy: Music, Raphael, and Saint Cecilia (New Haven, 1994)

R. Hammerstein: Von gerissenen Saiten und singenden Zikaden: Studien zur Emblematik der Musik (Tübingen, 1994)

S. Hirsch: ‘Die Ältesten von Oloron und ihr Umkreis: zur Bewertung restaurierter Bildquellen’, Musikalische Ikonographie: Hamburg 1991 [HJbMw, xii (1994)], 147–56

E. Genovesi: Le grottesche della ‘Volta Pinta’ in Assisi (Assisi, 1995)

C. Bianco, M. Carlone and C. Santarelli: ‘Musica picta: iconografia musicale in Piemonte dall’età ottoniana alle soglie del Rinascimento’, Musica peregrina: presenze della musica medievale in Piemonte, ed. C. Bianco (Cavallermaggiore, 1996), 69–115

L. Charles-Dominique: ‘L’iconographie musicale, révélateur de la marginalité: l’example des fêtes toulousaines, officielles, publiques, civiles et religieuses, du XVe au XVIIIe siècle’, Imago musicae, xiii (1996), 145–64

G.C. Bott: Der Klang im Bild: Evaristo Baschenis und die Erfindung des Musikstillebens (Berlin, 1997)

f: instruments, notation and performance (europe)

BoydenH

M. Seiffert: ‘Bildzeugnisse des 16. Jahrhunderts für die instrumentale Begleitung des Gesanges und den Ursprung des Musikkupferstiches’, AMw, i (1918–19), 49–67

H. Angles, ed.: La música de las Cantigas de Santa María del Rey Alfonso el Sabio (Barcelona, 1943–64)

V. Denis: De muziekinstrumenten in de Nederlanden en in Italië naar hun afbeelding in de 15e-eeuwsche kunst (Utrecht, 1944; partial Eng. trans. in GSJ, ii, 1949, 32–46)

E.A. Bowles: ‘Haut et Bas: the Grouping of Musical Instruments in the Middle Ages’, MD, viii (1954), 115–40

R. Hammerstein: ‘Instrumenta Hieronymi’, AMw, xvi (1959), 117–34

H. Steger: ‘Die Rotte: Studien über ein germanisches Musikinstrument im Mittelalter’, DVLG, xxxv (1961), 96–147

W. Bachmann: ‘Das byzantinische Musikinstrumentarium’, Anfänge der slavischen Musik: Bratislava 1964, 125–38

W. Bachmann: Die Anfänge des Streichinstrumentenspiels (Leipzig, 1964, 2/1966; Eng. trans., 1969, as The Origins of Bowing and the Development of Bowed Instruments up to the 13th Century)

R. Hammerstein: ‘Zu Quellenkritik und Forschungsaufgaben der Instrumentenkunde des 9. bis 11. Jahrhunderts’, IMSCR IX: Salzburg 1964, ii, 179–82

H. Heyde: Trompete und Trompetenblasen im europäischen Mittelalter (diss., U. of Leipzig, 1965)

J. Perrot: L'orgue de ses origines héllenistiques à la fin du XIIIe siècle ’, Medieval and Renaissance Studies, ii (1968), 74–97

E.M. Ripin: ‘The Two-Manual Harpsichord in Flanders Before 1650’, GSJ, xxi (1968), 33–9

H.J. Zingel: König Davids Harfe in der abendländischen Kunst (Cologne, 1968)

K. Kos: ‘Muzički instrumenti u srednjovjekovnoj likovnoj umjetnosti hrvatske’, Rad Jugoslavenske akademije znanosti i umjetnosti, no.351 (1969), 167–270

V. Ravizza: Das instrumentale Ensemble von 1400–1550 in Italien: Wandel eines Klangbildes (Berne, 1970)

G.S. Bedrock: ‘The Problem of Instrumental Combination in the Middle Ages’, RBM, xxv (1971), 3–67

P. Kuret: Glasbeni instrumenti na srednjeveskih freskah na slovenskem [Musical instruments in medieval Slovenian frescoes] (Ljubljana, 1973)

C.H. Mahling: ‘Der Dudelsack in westeuropäischer Plastik und Malerei’, Studia instrumentorum musicae popularis IV: Balatonalmádi 1973, 63–9

E. Stockmann, ed.: Studia instrumentorium musicae popularis IV: Balatonalmádi 1973

V. Scherliess: ‘Notizen zur musikalischen Ikonographie’, AnMc, no.14 (1974), 1–16; no.15 (1975), 21–8

H.M. Brown: ‘Instruments and Voices in the Fifteenth-Century Chanson’, Current Thought in Musicology, ed. J.W. Grubbs (Austin, 1976), 89–137

E.F. Barassi: Strumenti musicali e testimonianze teoriche nel medio evo (Cremona, 1979)

C. Deconinck: ‘Le luth dans les arts figurés des Pays-Bas au XVIe siècle: étude iconologique’, Revue Belge d'Archéologie et d'Histoire de l'Art, xlviii (1979), 3–43

M. del Rosario Alvarez-Martínez: ‘Aportaciones para un estudio organografico en la plena edad media los instrumentos musicales en los beatos’, Homenaje a Alfonso Trujillo (Santa Cruz de Tenerife, 1982), 47–73

E.A. Bowles: ‘A Preliminary Checklist of Fifteenth-Century Representations of Organs in Paintings and Manuscript Illuminations’, Organ Yearbook, xiii (1982), 5–30

E. Hickmann: ‘Eine ägyptische Harfendarstellung aus hellenistisch-römischer Zeit’, Jb für musikalische Volks- und Völkerkunde, x (1982), 9–19

E.F. Barassi: ‘Strumenti musicali ed esecutori nella società medievale’, Lavorare nel medio evo: Todi 1980 (Perugia, 1983), 297–370

H.M. Brown: ‘The Trecento Harp’, Studies in the Performance of Late Mediaeval Music, ed. S. Boorman (Cambridge, 1983), 35–73

J. McKinnon: ‘Fifteenth-Century Northern Book Painting and the a cappella Question: an Essay in Iconographic Method’, Studies in the Performance of Late Mediaeval Music, ed. S. Boorman (Cambridge, 1983), 1–17

G. Stradner: Spielpraxis und Instrumentarium um 1500: dargestellt an Sebastian Virdungs ‘Musica getutscht’ (Basel 1511) (Vienna, 1983)

R. Pejović: Predstave muzičkih instrumenata u srednjovekovnoj Srbiji [Musical instruments in medieval Serbia], ed. S. Rajičić (Belgrade, 1984) [Eng. summary]

P. Reidemeister, ed.: ‘Mittelalterliche Musikinstrumente: Ikonographie und Spielpraxis’, Basler Jb für historische Musikpraxis, viii (1984)

I. Woodfield: The Early History of the Viol (Cambridge, 1984)

C. Young: ‘Zur Klassifikation und ikonographischen Interpretation mittelalterlicher Zupfinstrumente’, Basler Jb für historische Musikpraxis, viii (1984), 67–104

E.F. Barassi: ‘L'iconografia come fonte di conoscenza organologica’, Per una carta europea del restauro: conservazione, restauro e riuso degli strumenti musicali antichi: Venice 1985, 35–41

M. Remnant: English Bowed Instruments from Anglo-Saxon to Tudor Times (Oxford, 1986)

M. del Rosario Alvarez-Martínez: ‘Los instrumentos musicales en los códices Alfonsinos: su tipología, su uso y su origen – algunos problemas iconográficos’, RdMc, x (1987), 56–104

R. Meucci: ‘Lo strumento del bucinator A. Surus e il cod. Pal.Lat.909 di Vegezio’, Bonner Jb des Rheinischen Landesmuseums, clxxxvii (1987), 259–72

R. Pestell: ‘Medieval Art and the Performance of Medieval Music’, EMc, xv (1987), 56–68

K. Marshall: Iconographical Evidence for the Late-Medieval Organ in French, Flemish, and English Manuscripts (New York, 1989)

K. Polk: ‘Voices and Instruments: Soloists and Ensembles in the 15th Century’, EMc, xviii (1990), 179–98

R. Hammerstein: ‘Imaginäres Gesamtkunstwerk: die niederländischen Bildmotetten des 16. Jahrhunderts’, Die Motette: Beiträge zu ihrer Gattungsgeschichte, ed. H. Schneider and H.-J. Winkler (Mainz, 1991), 165–203

M. von Schaik: The Harp in the Middle Ages: the Symbolism of a Musical Instrument (Amsterdam and Atlanta, GA, 1992)

C. Homo-Lechner: Sons et instruments de musique au Moyen Age: archéologie musicale dans l'Europe du VIIe au XIVe siècles (Paris, 1996)

g: folk music

I. Mačák: ‘Zur Verifikation ikonographischer Informationen über Musikinstrumente’, Studia instrumentorum musicae popularis IV: Balatonalmádi 1973, 49–51

W. Brednich: ‘Liedkolportage and geistlicher Bänkelsang: neue Funde zur Ikonographie der Liedpublizistik’, Jb für Volksliedforschung, xxii (1977), 71–9

R. Brückmann: ‘Das Bänkelsang-Motiv in der deutschen Karikatur von 1848/49’, Jb für Volksliedforschung, xxii (1977), 80–94

K. Kos: ‘St Kümmernis and her Fiddler: an Approach to Iconology of Pictorial Folk Art’, SMH, xix (1977), 251–66

R. Pejović: ‘Folk Musical Instruments in Mediavel and Renaissance Art of South Slav Peoples’, Studia instrumentorum musicae popularis VIII: Piran, Croatia, 1983, 126–43

D. Pistone: ‘La musique dans le Charivari’, Revue internationale de musique française, no.10 (1983), 7–54

F. Crane: ‘Black American Music in Pictures: Some Themes and Opportunities’, Black Music Research: Washington DC 1985 [Black Music Research Journal (1986)], 27–47

C. Marcel-Dubois: ‘Le triangle et ses représentations comme signe social et culturel’, Imago musicae, iv (1987), 121–35

K. Kos: ‘Osten und Westen in der Feld- und Militärmusik an der türkischen Grenze’, Imago musicae, v (1988), 109–27

T. Seebass: ‘Léopold Robert and Italian Folk Music’, World of Music, xxx/3 (1988), 59–84

A. Florea: ‘Music in Carol Popp de Szathmary's Paintings’, Imago musicae, vi (1989), 109–41

F. Guizzi and N. Staiti, eds.: Le forme dei suoni: l'iconografia del tamburello in Italia, Palazzo Pitti, Florence, 6 July – 6 Aug 1989 (Florence, 1989) [exhibition catalogue]

A. Goulaki-Voutira: ‘Neugriechischer Tanz und Musik aus europäischer Sicht’, Imago musicae, vii (1990), 189–232

F. Guizzi: ‘The Sounds of povertà contenta: Cityscape, Landscape, Soundscape, and Musical Portraiture in Italian Painting of the 17th and 18th Centuries’, Imago musicae, vii (1990), 115–47

T. Seebass: ‘Idyllic Arcadia and Italian Musical Reality: Experiences of German Writers and Artists (1770–1835)’ Imago musicae, vii (1990), 149–87

h: non-european art

L. Schermann: ‘Musizierende Genien in der religiösen Kunst des birmanischen Buddhismus’, Festschrift für Friedrich Hirth zum seinem 75. Geburtstag, ed. O. Kümmel, W. Cohn and E. Hänisch (Berlin, 1920), 345–53

R. van Gulik: The Lore of the Chinese Lute: an Essay in the Ideology of the Ch'in (Tokyo, 1940, 2/1969)

J. Agthe: Die Abbildungen in Reiseberichten aus Ozeanien als Quellen für die Völkerkunde (16–18. Jahrhundert) (Munich, 1969)

A.P. de Mirmonde: ‘La musique orientale dans les oeuvres de l'école française du XVIIe siècle’, Revue du Louvre et des Musées de France, xix (1969), 231–46

F.Ll. Harrison: Time, Place and Music: an Anthology of Ethnomusicological Observation c.1550 to c.1800, Source Materials and Studies in Ethnomusicology, i (Amsterdam, 1973)

Lee Hye-ku: ‘Musical Paintings in a Fourth-Century Korean Tomb’, Korea Journal, xiv/3 (1974), 4–14

Japanse prenten met muziek/Japanese Woodcuts with Music (The Hague, 1975) [exhibition catalogue]

G.H. Karakhanian: ‘Reliefs of Musicians on the Khatchkars of the Twelfth and Thirteenth Century’, Lraber hasarakan gitouthiounneri, cccxcix/3 (1976), 99–105 [in Armenian, with summary in Russ.]

F. Willet: ‘A Contribution to the History of Musical Instruments among the Yoruba’, Essays for a Humanist: an Offering to Klaus Wachsmann (New York, 1977), 350–86

E. Bassani: ‘Un corno afro-portoghese con decorazione africana: gli olifanti afro-portoghesi della Sierra Leone’, Critica d'Arte, 2nd ser., xxv (1979), 167–74, 175–201

M. Pirazzoli-t'Serstevens: ‘The Bronze Drums of Shizhai shan: their Social and Ritual Significance’, Early South East Asia: Essays in Archaeology, History and Historical Geography, ed. R.B. Smith and W. Watson (New York, 1979), 125–36

G. Sen: ‘Music and Musical Instruments in the Paintings of Akbar Nama’, National Centre for the Performing Arts Quarterly Journal, viii/4 (1979), 1–7

F. Feuchtwanger: ‘Tlatilco-Terrakotten von Akrobaten, Ballspielern, Musikanten und Tanzenden’, Baessler-Archiv, xxviii (1980), 131–53

K. Reinhard: ‘Turkish Miniatures as Sources of Music History’, Music East and West: Essays in Honor of Walter Kaufmann, ed. T. Noblitt (New York, 1981), 143–166

P. Crossley-Holland: Musical Instruments in Tibetan Legend and Folklore (Los Angeles, 1982)

R. Flora: ‘Miniature Paintings: Important Sources for Music History’, Performing Arts in India, ed. B. Wade (Berkeley, CA, 1983), 196–230

W. Denny: ‘Music and Musicians in Islamic Art’, Asian Music, xvii/1 (1985), 37–68

D. Gramit: ‘The Music Paintings of the Capella Palatina in Palermo’, Imago musicae, ii (1985), 9–49

M. Hariharan and G. Kuppuswamy: Music in Indian Art (Delhi, 1985)

A. Pilipczuk: Elfenbeinhörner im sakralen Königtum Schwarzafrikas (Bonn, 1985)

A. Vickers: ‘The Realm of Senses: Images of the Court Music of Pre-Colonial Bali’, Imago musicae, ii (1985), 143–77

I. Cavallini: ‘La musica turca nelle testimonianze dei viaggiatori e nella trattatistica del Sei/Settecento’, RIM, xxi (1986), 144–69

S.E. Lee: ‘“Listening to the Ch'in” by Liu Sung-Nien’, Bulletin of the Cleveland Museum of Art, lxxiii (1986), 372–87

D. Waterhouse: ‘Korean Music, Trick Horsemanship and Elephants in Tokugawa Japan’, The Oral and the Literate Music, ed. Y. Tokumaru and O. Yamaguti (Tokyo, 1986), 353–70

O. Mensink: ‘Hachogane, ’t gebeyer of 't Musiek van achten’, Jaarboek Haags Gemeentemuseum 1991 (1992), 6–23

Egaka reta sairei, Kunitachi Museum for the History of Popular Culture, Tokyo, 15 Nov – 18 Dec 1994 (Tokyo, 1994) [exhibition catalogue]

T. Steppan, ed.: Die Artuqiden-Schale im Tiroler Landesmuseum Ferdinandeum Innsbruck: mittelalterliche Emailkunst zwischen Orient und Occident, Innsbruck U., 4 – 13 May 1995 (Munich, 1995) [exhibition catalogue]

i: instruments and performance (outside europe)

J. Kunst and R. Goris: Hindoe-Javaansche Muziekinstrumenten (Weltevreden, 1927; Eng. trans., rev., 1968)

A. Huth: Die Musikinstrumente Ost-Turkistans bis zum 11. Jahrhundert nach Christi (diss., Berlin U., 1928)

C. Marcel-Dubois: Les instruments de musique de l'Inde ancienne (Paris, 1941)

K. Finsterbusch: ‘Die Mundorgeln des Museums für Völkerkunde zu Leipzig und die Darstellungen des Instrumentes in Ost- und Südostasien’, Veröffentlichungen des Museums für Völkerkunde zu Leipzig, xi (1961), 123–40, pls.123–40

S. Kishibe: ‘A Chinese Painting of the T'ang Court Women's Orchestra’, The Commonwealth of Music, in Honor of Curt Sachs, ed. G. Reese and R. Brandel (New York, 1965), 104–17

G.H. and N. Tarlekar: Musical Instruments in Indian Sculpture (Puna, 1972)

K. Vatsyayan: Traditions of Indian Folk Dance (New Delhi, 1976, enlarged 2/1987)

R.T. Mok: ‘Ancient Musical Instruments Unearthed in 1972 from the Number One Hand Tomb at Ma Wang Tui, Changsa: Translation and Commentary of Chinese Reports’, Asian Music, x/1 (1978), 39–91

R. Günther: ‘Abbild oder Zeichen: Bemerkungen zur Darstellung von Musikinstrumenten an indischen Skulpturen im Rautenstrauch-Joest-Museum zu Köln’, Ars Musica, musica scientia: Festschrift Heinrich Hüschen, ed. D. Altenburg (Cologne, 1980), 198–211

G. Siromoney: ‘Musical Instruments from Pallava Sculpture’, Kalakshetra Quarterly, ii/4 (1980), 11–20

Collection of Sources of Musical Instruments (Tokyo, 1980–90) [in Jap.]

M. Williamson: ‘The Iconography of Arched Harps in Burma’, Music and Tradition: Essays … presented to Laurence Picken, ed. D.R. Widdess and R.F. Wolpert (Cambridge, 1981), 209–28

S. Kashima: ‘Kugo no zuzogaku – ongaku – zuzogaku no ichishiron’ [Iconography of the kugo (harp)], Ongaku kenkyū, Kunitachi College of Music, v (1983), 35–86

M. Tajima: ‘About Historical Changes in Depictions of Musical Instruments: an Iconographical Study of Musical Instruments in Amida-Raigozu’, Ongaku kenkyū, Kunitachi College of Music, v (1983), 102–79 [in Jap.]

Tong Kin-woon: ‘Shang Musical Instruments’, Asian Music, xiv/2 (1983), 17–182

J. Bor: ‘The Voice of the Sārangī: an Illustrated History of Bowing in India’, Quarterly Journal of the National Centre for Performing Arts, xv–xvi/3–4, 1 (1986–7), 9–183

H.D. Bodman: Chinese Musical Iconography: a History of Musical Instruments Depicted in Chinese Art (Taibei, 1987)

R.L. Hardgrave and S.M. Slawek: ‘Instruments and Music Culture in Eighteenth-Century India: the Solvyn Portraits’, Asian Music, xx/1 (1988), 1–92

Zheng Ruzhong: ‘Musical Instruments in the Wall Paintings of Dunhuang’, CHIME, no.7 (1993), 4–56

B.C. Wade: ‘Performing the Drone in Hindustani Classical Music: what Mughal Paintings show us to hear’, World of Music, xxxviii/2 (1996), 41–67

j: the musical instrument as an image

G. Servières: La décoration artistique des buffets d'orgues (Paris and Brussels, 1928)

C. Sachs: Geist und Werden der Musikinstrumente (Berlin, 1929)

D.H. Meyer: ‘De spleettrom’, Tijdschrift voor de Indische Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde, lxxix (1939), 415–46

T.C. Grame: ‘The Symbolism of the 'ud’, Asian Music, iii/1 (1972), 25–34

Gen'ichi Tsuge: ‘Musical Idols: Beasts in the Form of Instruments’, Festschrift for Dr. Chang Sa-hun: Articles on Asian Music (Seoul, 1976), 407–19

G. and L. Bauer: ‘Bernini's Organ-Case for S. Maria del Popolo’, Art Bulletin, lxii/1 (1980), 115–23

D.W. Penney: ‘Northern New Guinea Slit-Gong Sculpture’, Baessler-Archiv, xxviii (1980), 347–85

C. Rueger: Musikinstrument und Dekor (Gütersloh, 1982)

A. Pilipczuk: ‘Dekorative Verwertung alchimistischer und astrologischer Bildelemente auf Joachim Tielkes Gitarre von 1703’, Jb des Museums für Kunst und Gewerbe Hamburg, ii (1983), 27–40

D.A. Olsen: ‘The Flutes of El Dorado: Musical Effigy Figurines of the Tairona’, Imago musicae, iii (1986), 79–102

E. Emsheimer: ‘On the Ergology and Symbolism of a Shaman drum of the Khakass’, Imago musicae, v (1988), 145–66

U. Groos: ‘Westfälische Orgelflügel als Bildträger’, Barocke Orgelkunst in Westfalen (Soest, 1995), 150–54 [exhibition catalogue]

k: contextual sources (performance sites)

E. Winternitz: ‘Quattrocento Science in the Gubbio Study’, Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin, i/2 (1942), 104–16

A.P. de Mirimonde: ‘Les “Cabinets de musique”’, Jaarboek van het Kongelige Museum voor Schone Kunsten Antwerpen (1966), 141–80

M. Viale Ferrero: ‘Repliche a Torino di alcuni melodrammi veneziani e loro caratteristiche’, Venezia e il melodramma nel Seicento, ed. M.T. Muraro (Florence, 1976), 145–72

R. Bailey: ‘Visual and Musical Symbolism in German Romantic Opera’, IMSCR XII: Berkeley 1977, 436–44

A. Bourde: ‘Opera seria et scénographie: autour de deux toiles italiennes du XVIIIe siècle!’, L'opéra au XVIIIe siècle: Aix-en-Provence 1977, 229–53

F. Degrada: ‘Prolegomeni a una lettura della Sonnambula’, Il melodramma italiano dell'Ottocento: studi e ricerche per Massimo Mila, ed. G. Pestelli (Turin, 1977), 319–50

W. Liebenwein: Studiolo: die Entstehung eines Raumtyps und seine Entwicklung bis um 1600 (Berlin, 1977)

S. Leopold: ‘Zur Szenographie der Türkenoper’, Die stylistische Entwicklung der italienischen Musik zwischen 1770 und 1830: Rome 1978 [AnMc, no.21 (1982)], 370–79

M.T. Muraro and E. Povoledo: ‘Le Scene della Fida Ninfa: Maffei, Vivaldi e Francesco Bibbiena’, Vivaldi veneziano europeo: Venice 1978, 235–52

H.J. Raupp: ‘Musik im Atelier: Darstellungen musizierender Künstler in der niederländischen Malerei des 17. Jahrhunderts’, Oud Holland, xcii (1978), 106–29

M. Viale Ferrero: ‘Antonio e Pietro Ottoboni e alcuni melodrammi da loro identi o promossi a Roma’, Venezia e il melodramma nel Settecento, ed. M.T. Muraro (Florence, 1978), 271–94

D. Ming-Yüeh Liang: ‘The Artistic Symbolism of the Painted Faces in Chinese Opera: an Introduction’, World of Music, xxii/1 (1980), 72–85

A.M. Testaverde: ‘Feste Medicee: la visita, le nozze e il trionfo’, Città effimera a l'universo artificiale del giardino: la Firenze dei Medici e l'Italia del ’500, ed. M.F. dell'Arco (Rome, 1980), 69–100

M. Viale Ferrero: La scenografia dalle origini al 1936, Storia del Teatro Regio di Torino, ed. A. Basso, iii (Turin, 1980)

D. Heartz: ‘Vis comica: Goldoni, Galuppi and L'Arcadia in Brenta (Venice, 1749)’, Studi di musica veneta, vii (1981), 33–73

W. Eckhardt: ‘Gottfried Sempers Planungen für ein Richard Wagner-Festtheater in München’, Jb des Museums für Kunst und Gewerbe Hamburg, ii (1983), 41–72

W.L. Barcham: ‘Costumes in the Frescoes of Tiepolo and Eighteenth-Century Opera’, Opera & Vivaldi, ed. M. Collins and E.K. Kirk (Austin, TX, 1984), 149–69

H. Himelfarb: ‘Lieux éminents du grand motet: décor symbolique et occupation de l'espace dans les deux dernières chapelles royales de Versailles (1682 et 1710)’, Le grand motet français: Paris 1984, 17–27

E. Povoledo: ‘Incontri romani: Franceso Bibiena e Giovanni Paolo Pannini (1719–1721)’, RIM, xx (1985), 296–327

P. Russo: ‘“L'isola di Alcina”: funzioni drammaturgiche del “divertissement” nella “tragédie lyrique” (1699–1735)’, NRMI, xxi (1987), 1–15

G.B. Salmen: ‘Musikerwohnungen des 19. Jahrhunderts als ikonographische Quelle’, Imago musicae, iv (1987), 151–8

M. Srocke: ‘Die Entwicklung der räumlichen Darstellung in der Inszenierungsgeschichte von Wagners Tristan und Isolde’, JbO, iii (1990), 43–68

N. Guidobaldi: La musica di Federico: immagini e suoni alla corte di Urbino (Florence, 1995)

l: portraits

H. Prunières: ‘Un portrait de Hobrecht et de Verdelot par Sebastiano del Piombo’, ReM, iii/6–8 (1921–2), 193–8

A. Cametti: Arcangelo Corelli: i suoi quadri, i suoi violini (Rome, 1927)

A. Della Corte: Satire e grotteschi di musiche e di musicisti d'ogni tempo (Turin, 1946)

E. Panofsky: ‘Who is Jan van Eyck's “Tymotheus”?’, Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes, xii (1949), 80–90

W. Braun: ‘Arten des Komponistenporträts’, Festschrift für Walter Wiora, ed. L. Finscher and C.-H. Mahling (Kassel, 1967), 86–94

D. and E. Rosand: ‘“Barbara di Santa Sofia” and “Il Prete Genovese”: on the Identity of a Portrait by Bernardo Strozzi’, Art Bulletin, lxiii (1981), 249–58

H. Loos, ed.: Musik-Karikaturen (Dortmund, 1982)

P. Petrobelli: ‘Il musicista di teatro settecentesco nelle caricature di Pierleone Ghezzi’, Antonio Vivaldi: teatro musicale, cultura e società, ed. L. Bianconi and G. Morelli (Florence, 1982), 415–26

W. and G. Salmen: Musiker im Porträt (Munich, 1982–4)

T. Ford: ‘Andrea Sacchi's “Apollo Crowning the Singer Marc Antonio Pasqualini”’, EMc, xii (1984), 79–84

D. Heartz: ‘Portrait of a Court Musician: Gaetano Pugnani of Turin’, Imago musicae, i (1984), 103–19

A. Comini: The Changing Image of Beethoven: a Study in Myth Making (New York, 1987)

F.T. Camiz: ‘The Castrato Singer: from Informal to Formal Portraiture’, Artibus et Historiae, no.18 (1988), 171–86

N. Guidobaldi: Il ritratto di musicista e l'immagine della musica (diss., Bologna U. degli Studi, 1988)

T. Seebass: ‘Lady Music and her protégés: from Musical Allegory to Musicians’ Portraits’, MD, xlii (1988), 23–61

M. Wehnert: ‘Das Persönlichkeitsbild des Musikers als ikonographisches Problem: andeutungsweise dargestellt am Beispiel Carl Maria von Webers’, Musikalische Ikonographie: Hamburg 1991 [HJbMw, xii (1994)], 297–308

1. Aesthetic and scientific principles.

m: music and the visual arts

W. Kandinsky: Über das Geistige in der Kunst (Munich, 1911)

W. Kandinsky and F. Marc, eds.: Der Blaue Reiter (Munich, 1912; Eng. trans., rev., 1974, as The Blaue Reiter Almanac: New Documentary Edition)

O.C. Gangoly: Rāgas and Rāginīs (Bombay, 1934–5)

L. Parigi: Musiche in pittura (Signa, 1939)

P.O. Runge: Sein Leben in Selbstzeugnissen, Briefen und Berichten (Berlin, 1942)

T. Munro: The Arts and their Interrelations: a Survey of the Arts and an Outline of Comparative Aesthetics (New York, 1949)

A. Schaeffner: ‘Debussy et ses rapports avec la peinture’, Debussy et l'évolution de la musique au XXe siècle: Paris 1962, 151–66

E. and R.L. Waldschmidt: Musikinspirierte Miniaturen, i (Wiesbaden, 1966), ii (Berlin, 1975); Eng. trans. as Miniatures of Musical Inspiration in the Collection of the Berlin Museum of Indian Art (Berlin, 1967–75)

K. Ebeling: Rāgamālā Painting (Basle, 1973)

E. Lockspeiser: Music and Painting: a Study in Comparative Ideas from Turner to Schönberg (London, 1973)

R.M. Bisanz: ‘The Romantic Synthesis of the Arts: Nineteenth-Century German Theories on a Universal Art’, Konsthistorisk tidskrift, xliv/1–2 (1975), 38–46

A.L. Dahmen-Dallapiccola: Rāgamālā-Miniaturen von 1475–1700 (Wiesbaden, 1975)

G. Le Coat: ‘Anglo-Saxon Interlace Structure, Rhetoric and Musical Troping’, Gazette des beaux-arts, 6th ser., lxxxvii (1976), 1–6

A. Daniélou: ‘Symbolism in the Musical Theories of the Orient’, World of Music, xx/3 (1978), 24–37

T.J. Ellingson: The Mandala of Sound: Concepts and Sound Structures in Tibetan Ritual Music (diss., U. of Wisconsin, 1979)

F. Würtenberger: Malerei und Musik: die Geschichte des Verhaltens zweier Künste zueinander, dargestellt nach den Quellen im Zeitraum von Leonardo da Vinci bis John Cage (Frankfurt, 1979)

H.S. Powers: ‘Illustrated Inventories of Indian rāgamālā Painting’, Journal of the American Oriental Society, c (1980), 473–93

S. Misra: ‘Music Visualised Through Paintings’, Kalākshetra Quarterly, v/4 (1982–3), 17–22

A. Kagan: Paul Klee: Art and Music (Ithaca, NY, 1983)

N. Perloff: ‘Klee und Webern: Speculations on Modernist Theories of Composition’, MQ, lxix (1983), 180–208

P. Friedheim: ‘Wagner and the Aesthetics of the Scream’, 19CM, vii (1983–4), 63–70

H.-K. Metzger: ‘Schönberg und Kandinsky: ein Beitrag zum Verhältnis von Musik und Malerei’, Musik wozu? Literatur zu Noten (Frankfurt, 1984), 181–207

L.I. al Faruqi: ‘Structural Segments in the Islamic Arts: the Musical “Translation” of a Characteristic of the Literary and Visual Arts’, Asian Music, xvi/1 (1985), 59–82

K. von Maur, ed.: Vom Klang der Bilder: die Musik in der Kunst des 20. Jahrhunderts, Staatsgalerie Stuttgart, 1985 (Munich, 1985) [exhibition catalogue]

J. Schwarcz: ‘Die Darstellung des Geistes der Musik im Bilderbuch’, Librarium, xxix (1986), 190–202

E. Balas: ‘Bartók and Brancusi’, Imago musicae, vi (1989), 165–92

W. Seidel: ‘Die Symphonie von Moritz von Schwind’, Der Text des Bildes, ed. W. Kemp (Munich, 1989), 10–34

G. Rötter: ‘Die Gestaltung von Schallplattencovern’, Musik und Bildende Kunst: Augsburg 1988, 154–61

U. Bischoff, ed.: Kunst als Grenzbeschreitung: John Cage und die Moderne (Munich, 1991) [exhibition catalogue]

H.Q. Rinne: Concepts of Time and Space in Selected Works of Jazz Improvisation and Painting (diss., Ohio U., 1991)

U. Kersten: Max Klinger und die Musik (Frankfurt, 1993)

E. Schmierer and others, eds.: Töne – Farben – Formen: über Musik und die bildenden Künste, Festschrift Elmar Budde (Laaber, 1995)

T. Steiert: Das Kunstwerk in seinem Verhältnis zu den Künsten: Beziehungen zwischen Musik und Malerei (Frankfurt, 1995)

Canto d'Amore Klassizistische Moderne in Musik und bildender Kunst 1914–1935, Kunstmuseum Basle, 1996 (Basle, 1996) [exhibition catalogue]

ICTM.

See International Council for Traditional Music.

Ictus

(Lat.).

A term which in prosody indicates the stress or accent schematically implied on a certain syllable of a foot or verse; hence, in music, it is a comparable stress or accent schematically implied on a certain beat of a bar, in a certain metre, whether or not this implication coincides with the stress or accent actually made. In the editions of Gregorian chant produced by the monks of Solesmes, the ictus is a sign which indicates rhythmic groupings of two and three notes. The term is also used in relation to conducting patterns, to describe the downbeat.

ROBERT DONINGTON

Idakka [itekka, edakkya].

A variable tension hourglass drum of Kerala, South-west India. The body, from 21 to 26 cm long and about 1 cm thick, is of acacia or red sandalwood; it is slightly waisted in the middle (see illustration). The shell-faces are about 11 cm wide, the drumheads about double that. The skins, made of the internal stomach-wall of a cow, are pasted to thick jakwood hoops (about 2 cm in diameter) with six holes drilled in each for the V-lacings which are tightened by a central cross-lacing. Four large decoratively turned wooden dowels hung with 64 multi-coloured tassels are inserted as tuning-sticks between the lacing. The heads are simply held over the faces by the lacing, usually off centre. Beneath them is a snare of two crossed palmyra fibres held on four copper nails. The drum is suspended from a strap on the left shoulder. The right hand beats the front face with a thin wooden or horn stick, slightly curved at the tip; the player varies the timbre and pitch over a range of up to two octaves by squeezing the lacing and pushing against the shoulder-strap with the left hand.

The idakka is a temple drum used by the hereditary temple musician caste, the Mārār, and by the Poduvāl in North Kerala; it is played in temple worship, processions, the ceremonial ensemble pañcuvādyam, the devotional music sopānā sangīta, performed on temple steps, and the Sanskrit drama kutiyattam. Its pitch range is so large that it is sometimes played melodically. There is a tradition that it must never be placed on the ground.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

K.S. Kothari: Indian Folk Musical Instruments (New Delhi, 1968)

L.S. Rajagopalan: ‘Idakka’, Journal of the Music Academy Madras, xlviii (1977), 164–70

B.C. Deva: Musical Instruments of India (Calcutta, 1978, 2/1987)

ALASTAIR DICK/R

Idée fixe

(Fr.: ‘obsession’).

A term coined by Berlioz to denote a musical idea used obsessively. When in 1830 he applied it to the principal theme of his Symphonie fantastique, it was a new term in the French language. At about the same time Balzac used it in Gobseck to describe an obsessive idea, and it came into use as a clinical term for unreasonable or even criminal obsession. Berlioz used the theme to describe the artist’s obsession with his beloved. In December 1832 Fétis drew attention to the novelty of the idea (Revue musicale, xii, 365–7). The theme recurs in each of the five movements of the symphony and in the first supplies the main thematic material of the Allegro. Subsequently it is transformed to fit the context of the various movements, for example into waltz time for the ball and into the grotesque, distorted dance for the final ‘Ronde du Sabbat’. Berlioz recalled the theme in the sequel to the symphony, Lélio, and another recurrent theme occurs in his Harold en Italie (1834). Many later composers have taken up the idea of a recurrent, obsessive theme in symphonic works.

HUGH MACDONALD

Idelsohn, Abraham Zvi

(b Filzburg, nr Libau [now Liepāja, Latvia], 11 June 1882; d Johannesburg, 15 Aug 1938). Jewish cantor and musicologist of Russian birth. Raised in a traditional German Jewish environment, he trained as a cantor in Libau; he also studied briefly at Königsberg (now Kaliningrad) where he met Eduard Birnbaum. Later he studied at the Stern Conservatory in Berlin and at the conservatory and university in Leipzig; his claim to have studied at both institutions with Kretzschmar (history), Zöllner (composition) and Jadassohn (harmony) remains unsubstantiated. He served as cantor at the Adat Jeshurun congregation, Leipzig (1902). From 1903 to 1905 he was a cantor at Regensburg and then after a year in Johannesburg he was persuaded by the president of the Zionist movement, David Wolffsohn, to emigrate to Jerusalem, where he lived from 1906 to 1921. These were decisive years for Idelsohn's research into the diverse musical traditions of the Sephardi and ‘Oriental’ Jewish communities and Muslim and Christian sects. Although his plans in 1910 for an Institute for Jewish Music never materialized, he was invited in 1913 to present his early recordings to the Akademie der Wissenschaften in Vienna. He remained there for eight months and laid the groundwork for his monumental Hebräisch-orientalischer Melodienschatz (1914–33) with the help of the academy director. After serving in the Turkish army, he returned to teaching, research and composition in 1919: his five-act opera Jiftah was performed and published in Jerusalem in 1922, and he transcribed and composed much cantorial music (including the songs Havah negilah and Orah, orah). In 1921 he left Jerusalem and after an extended lecture tour he settled in Cincinnati (1922–30). He was appointed professor of Jewish music and liturgy at the Hebrew Union College in 1924. The college became a centre of research in Jewish music through his work, which was aided by the extensive Birnbaum collection. He wrote prolifically on the history and liturgy of Jewish music and his publications included two major books, the last five volumes of his Melodienschatz (on Ashkenazi music) and numerous essays. He also composed several complete synagogue services. He suffered a heart attack in 1930 and by 1934 he could no longer work; in 1937 he moved to be with his family in Johannesburg. Hebrew Union College conferred an honorary doctorate on him in 1933.

Idelsohn was the first to apply the methods of comparative musicology to the study of Jewish music, and was also first to record music on wax cylinders in Palestine. His articles on the maqām system in Arab music and the practice of singing Hebrew poems in ‘Oriental’ Jewish diwans (anthologies of poetry) according to a prescribed order of maqāmāt remain fundamental studies. He discovered relationships between ancient Hebrew (mainly Yemenite) and early Christian (Byzantine, Jacobite and Gregorian) chant that had hitherto remained undetected. His magnum opus, the Hebräisch-orientalischer Melodienschatz, summarizes his work in Palestine (vols.i–v) and Cincinnati (vols.vi–x). Although he was largely self-taught as a musicologist, his writings represent an impressive contribution to the study of Jewish music.

WRITINGS

‘Die Makamen in der hebräischen Poesie der orientalischen Juden’, Monatsschrift für Geschichte und Wissenschaft des Judentums, lvii (1913), 314–25

‘Die Maqamen der arabischen Musik’, SIMG, xv (1913–14), 1–63

Hebräisch-orientalischer Melodienschatz (Leipzig, 1914–33/R; Heb. edn of vols.i–v as Otzar neginoth Yisrael, 1922–8; Eng. edn of vols.i–iii, vi–x as Thesaurus of Hebrew Oriental Melodies, 1923–33/R)

Phonographierte Gesänge and Aussprachsproben des Hebräischen der jemenitischen, persischen und syrischen Juden (Vienna, 1917)

‘Die Vortragszeichen der Samaritaner’, Monatsschrift für Geschichte und Wissenschaft des Judentums, lxi (1917), 117–26

‘Hebrew Music with Special Reference to the Musical Intonations in the Recital of the Pentateuch’, Journal of the Palestine Oriental Society, i/2–3 (1921), 80–94

‘Parallelen zwischen gregorianischen und hebräisch-orientalischen Gesangsweisen’, ZMw, iv (1921–2), 515–24

‘Der Kirchengesang der Jakobiten’, AMw, iv (1922), 364–89

‘Der synagogale Gesang im Lichte der orientalischer Musik’, Der Andenken Eduard Birnbaums: Sammlung kantoral-wissenschaftlicher Aufsätze, ed. A. Friedman (Berlin, 1922), 62–9

Tôledôt han-megînah ha- ‘ivrît [History of Jewish music] (Tel-Aviv and Berlin, 1924)

‘Song and Singers of the Synagogue in the 18th Century with Special Reference to the Birnbaum Collection’, Hebrew Union College Jubilee Volume 1875–1925, ed. D. Philipson and others (1925), 397–424

Manual of Musical Illustrations … on Jewish Music and Jewish Liturgy (Cincinnati, 1926)

‘Der Missinai-Gesang der deutschen Synagogue’, ZMw, viii (1926–7), 449–72

The Ceremonies of Judaism (Cincinnati, 1929, 2/1930/R)

Jewish Music in its Historical Development (New York, 1929/R)

‘The Kol-nidre Tune’, Hebrew Union College Annual, viii–ix (1931–2), 493–509

Jewish Liturgy and its Development (New York, 1932/R)

‘Musical Characteristics of East-European Folksong’, MQ, xviii (1932), 634–45

‘Deutsche Elemente im alten Synagogengesang Deutschlands’, ZMw, xv (1932–3), 385–93

‘Parallels between the Old-French and the Jewish Song’, AcM, v (1933), 162–8; vi (1934), 15–22

‘Traditional Songs of the German (Tedesco) Jews in Italy’, Hebrew Union College Annual, xi (1936), 569–91

EDITIONS

Shire Zion [Songs of Zion] (Jerusalem, 1908)

Liederbuch: Sammlung deutschen Lieder für Volks- und höhere Schulen (Berlin, 1912)

Sefer ha-Shirim [Collection of Hebrew songs] (Berlin, 1922)

Tzelilé Aviv [Songs of spring] (Berlin, 1922)

Tzelilé ha-Aretz [Love- and folksongs] (Berlin, 1922)

Jewish Song Book for Synagogue, School and Home (Cincinnati, 1928, 3/1951)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

M.C. Weiler and T.S.Ross: ‘Abraham Zvi Idelsohn’, Hebrew Union College Monthly, xx/1 (1932), 9–11

J. Reider: ‘Idelsohn's History and Other Works on Jewish Music’, Jewish Quarterly Review, xix (1929), 313–19

A. Idelsohn: ‘My Life (a Sketch)’, Jewish Music Journal, ii/2 (1935), 8–11; repr. in The Abraham Zvi Idelsohn Memorial Volume, ed. I. Adler and others (Jerusalem, 1986), 15–23

E. Werner: ‘A.Z. Idelsohn in Memoriam’, Reconstructionist [New York], xxix/2 (1963–4), 14–18

J. Idelsohn: ‘Akhi Abraham Zvi Idelsohn zal’ [My brother, the late Abraham Zvi Idelsohn], Barkai, xxxviii (1969), 86–8

I.J. Katz: ‘Abraham Zvi Idelsohn (1882–1938): a Bibliography of his Collected Writings’, Musica judaica, i (1975–6), 1–32

I. Adler and J.Cohen: A.Z. Idelsohn Archives at the Jewish National and University Library (Jerusalem, 1976) [catalogue]

I. Adler and others, eds.: The Abraham Zvi Idelsohn Memorial Volume (Jerusalem, 1986) [incl. E. Gerson-Kiwi: ‘A.Z. Idelsohn: a Pioneer in Jewish Ethnomusicology’, 46–52; complete list of writings with annotations, 53–180; list of pubd compositions and song books, 31–50]

EDITH GERSON-KIWI/ISRAEL J. KATZ

Idiophone.

General term for musical instruments that produce their sound by setting up vibrations in the substance of the instrument itself. Idiophones form one of the original four classes of instruments (along with membranophones, chordophones and aerophones) in the hierarchical classification devised by E.M. von Hornbostel and C. Sachs and published by them in Zeitschrift für Ethnologie in 1914 (Eng. trans. in GSJ, xiv, 1961, pp.3–29, repr. in Ethnomusicology: an Introduction, ed. H. Myers, London, 1992, pp.444–61). Their system, which draws on that devised by Victor Mahillon for the Royal Conservatory in Brussels and is widely used today, divides instruments into groups which employ air, strings, membranes or sonorous materials to produce sounds. Various scholars, including Galpin (Textbook of European Instruments, London, 1937) and Sachs (History of Muscial Instruments, New York, 1940), have suggested adding electrophones to the system although it has not yet been formally extended.

Idiophones are subdivided into those which are struck, scraped, plucked, made to sound by friction or blown. The sound may be produced by the direct or the indirect action of the player. Each category is further subdivided according to the more detailed characteristics of an instrument. A numeric code, similar to the class marks of the Dewey decimal library classification system, indicates the structure and physical function of the instrument. The Hornbostel-Sachs classification (from the GSJ translation, with minor alterations) follows as an appendix to this article.

For further information on the classification of instruments in general see Instruments, classification of.

APPENDIX

1 Idiophones: the substance of the instrument itself, owing to its solidity and elasticity, yields the sounds, without requiring stretched membranes or strings

11 Struck idiophones: the instrument is made to vibrate by being struck upon

111 Idiophones struck directly: the player himself executes the movement of striking; whether by mechanical intermediate devices, beaters, keyboards, or by pulling ropes, etc., is immaterial; it is definitive that the player can apply clearly defined individual strokes and that the instrument itself is equipped for this kind of percussion

111.1 Concussion idiophones or clappers: two or more complementary sonorous pans are struck against each other

111.11 Concussion sticks or stick clappers – found in Annam, India and the Marshall Islands

111.12 Concussion plaques or plaque clappers – found in China and India

111.13 Concussion troughs or trough clappers – found in Myanmar

111.14 Concussion vessels or vessel clappers: even a slight hollow in the surface of a board counts as a vessel

111.141 Castanets: vessel clappers, either natural, or artificially hollowed out

111.142 Cymbals: vessel clappers with everted rim

111.2 Percussion idiophones: the instrument is struck either with a non-sonorous object (hand stick, striker) or against a non-sonorous object (human body, the ground)

111.21 Percussion sticks

111.211 (Individual) percussion sticks – found in Japan, Annam and the Balkans; (also the triangle)

111.212 Sets of percussion sticks: several percussion sticks of different pitch are combined to form a single instrument (all xylophones, as long as their sounding components are not in two different planes)

111.22 Percussion plaques

111.221 (Individual) percussion plaques – found in the oriental Christian Church

111.222 Sets of percussion plaques (lithophone [China], and most metallophones)

111.23 Percussion tubes

111.231 (Individual) percussion tubes (slit-drum, tubular bell)

111.232 Sets of percussion tubes (tubaphone, tubular xylophone)

111.24 Percussion vessels

111.241 Gongs: the vibration is strongest near the venex

111.241.1 (Individual) gongs – found in South and East Asia (including the so-called metal drums, or rather kettle-gongs)

111.241.2 Sets of gongs (gong-chimes) – found in South-east Asia

111.242 Bells: the vibration is weakest near the venex

111.242.1 (Individual) bells

111.242.11 Resting bells: the cup is placed on the palm of the hand or on a cushion; its mouth faces upwards – found in China, South-east Asia and Japan

111.242.12 Suspended bells: the bell is suspended from the apex

111.242.121 Suspended bells struck from the outside: no striker is attached inside the bell, there being a separate beater

111.242.122 Clapper bells: a striker (clapper) is attached inside the bell

111.242.2 Sets of bells [chimes] (subdivided as 111.242.1)

112 Indirectly struck idiophones: the player himself does not go through the movement of striking; percussion results indirectly through some other movement by the player. The intention of the instrument is to yield clusters of sounds or noises, and not to let individual strokes be perceived

112.1 Shaken idiophones or rattles: the player executes a shaking motion

112.11 Suspension rattles: perforated idiophones are mounted together, and shaken to strike against each other

112.111 Strung rattles: rattling objects are strung in rows on a cord (necklaces with rows of shells)

112.112 Stick rattles: rattling objects are strung on a bar (or ring) (sistrum with rings)

112.12 Frame rattles: rattling objects are attached to a carrier against which they strike

112.121 Pendant rattles: rattling objects are hung from a frame (dancing shield with rattling rings)

112.122 Sliding rattles: non-sonorous objects slide to and fro in the slots of the sonorous object so that the latter is made to vibrate; or sonorous objects slide to and fro in the slots of a non-sonorous object, to be set in vibration by the impacts (angklung, sistrum with rods [recent])

112.13 Vessel rattles: rattling objects enclosed in a vessel strike against each other or against the walls of the vessel, or usually against both. NB West African and Latin-American gourd rattles with handle, in which the rending objects, instead of being enclosed, are knotted into a net slipped over the outer surface, count as a variety of vessel rattle (fruit shells with seeds, ‘pellet bells’ enclosing one or two loose percussion pellets)

112.2 Scraped idiophones: the player causes a scraping movement directly or indirectly: a non-sonorous object moves along the notched surface of a sonorous object, to be alternately lifted off the teeth and flicked against them, or an elastic sonorous object moves along the surface of a notched non-sonorous object to cause a series of impacts. This group must not be confused with that of friction idiophones

112.21 Scraped sticks: a notched stick is scraped with a little stick, shell, piece of bone etc.

112.211 Scraped sacks without resonator – found in South America, India (pouched musical bow) and Congo

112.212 Scraped sticks with resonator – found in East Asia (ǒ)

112.22 Scraped tubes – found in south India

112.23 Scraped vessels: the corrugated surface of a vessel is scraped – found in South America and the Congo region

112.24 Scraped wheels or cog rattles: a cog wheel, whose axle serves as the handle, and a tongue fixed in a frame which is free to turn on the handle, when whirled, the tongue strikes the teeth of the wheel one after another – found in Europe and India

112.3 Split idiophones: instruments in the shape of two springy arms connected at one end and touching at the other: the arms are forced open by a little stick, to jingle or vibrate on recoil – found in China, Malacca [now West Malaysia], Iran and the Balkans

12 Plucked idiophones: lamellae, i.e. elastic plaques, fixed at one end, are flexed and then released to return to their position of rest

121 In the form of a frame: the lamella vibrates within a frame or hoop

121.1 Clack idiophones (cricri): the lamella is carved in the surface of a fruit shell, which serves as a resonator – found in Melanesia

121.2 Guimbardes (jew’s harps): the lamella is mounted in a rod or plaque-shaped frame and depends on the player’s mouth cavity for resonance

121.21 Idioglot guimbardes: the lamella is carved in the frame itself, its base remaining joined to the frame – found in India, Indonesia and Melanesia

121.22 Heteroglot guimbardes: a lamella is attached to a frame

121.221 (Single) heteroglot guimbardes – found in Europe, India and China

121.222 Sets of heteroglot guimbardes: several heteroglot guimbardes of different pitches are combined to form a single instrument – found in Aura

122 In board or comb-form: the lamellae are tied to a board or cut out from a board like the teeth of a comb

122.1 With laced-on lamellae

122.11 Without resonator (all lamellaphones on a plain board)

122.12 With resonator (all lamellaphones with a box or bowl below the board)

122.2 With cut-out lamellae (musical boxes): pins on a cylinder pluck the lamellae – found in Europe

13 Friction idiophones: the instrument is made to vibrate by friction

131 Friction sticks

131.1 (Individual) friction sticks (unknown)

131.2 Sets of friction sticks

131.21 With direct friction: the sticks themselves are rubbed (nail violin, nail piano, Stockspiele)

131.22 With indirect friction: the sticks are connected with others which are rubbed and, by transmitting their longitudinal vibration, stimulate transverse vibration in the former (Chladni’s euphon)

132 Friction plaques

132.1 (Individual) friction plaques (unknown)

132.2 Sets of friction plaques [livika] – found in New Ireland

133 Friction vessels

133.1 (Individual) friction vessels – found in Brazil (tortoise shell)

133.2 Sets of friction vessels (verillon [glass harmonica])

14 Blown idiophones: the instrument is made to vibrate by being blown upon

141 Blown sticks

141.1 (Individual) blown sticks (unknown): possible example of the Mbuti of the Ituri Forest, Zaire, in the Turnbull Collection

141.2 Sets of blown sticks (Äolsklavier)

142 Blown plaques

142.1 (Individual) blown plaques (unknown)

142.2 Sets of blown plaques (piano chanteur)

Suffixes for use with any division of this class:

8 with keyboard

9 mechanically driven

Appendix reprinted from Hornbostel and Sachs, 1914 (by permission of Limbag Verlag, Berlin); Eng. trans., 1961/R

HOWARD MAYER BROWN/FRANCES PALMER

Ieuan Gwyllt.

See Roberts, John (ii).

Ifalik.

See Micronesia, §II, 1.

IFMC.

See International Council for Traditional Music.

Ifukube, Akira

(b Kushiro, Hokkaidō, 31 May 1914). Japanese composer. He studied forestry at Hokkaidō Imperial University and, after graduating in 1935, worked for ten years as a forest engineer. In 1935 his Nihon kyōshi-kyoku won the Alexander Tcherepnin Prize and in 1936 it was heard in Boston. Ifukube studied briefly with Tcherepnin, who was responsible for the première of his first ballet, Bon odori. This was performed at Vienna in 1938 and in the same year a piano suite he had written for George Copeland in 1933 was played at the ISCM Festival. Between 1948 and 1953 he composed five further ballets in quick succession before turning his attention primarily to orchestral works. His style has been described as ‘ethnic exoticism’. He has been strongly influenced by the music of the Ainu and other folk traditions of Hokkaidō, and his flowing melodies make frequent use of pentatonic and other oriental scales. His rhythm and use of the percussion are often quite violent, even barbaric, in the manner of early Stravinsky and Prokofiev. An influential teacher, he lectured at the Tokyo National University of Fine Arts and Music (1946–53), and was president of the Tokyo College of Music (1975–88). His music for the film Godzilla (1954) has won great popularity.

WORKS

(selective list)

Ballets: Bon odori [Bon Dance], pf, perc, 1938; Tsukaretaru shiro [Enchanted Citadel], Tokyo, 1949; Nihon no taiko [Drums of Japan], Tokyo, 1951; Ningen Shaka [Buddha], Tokyo, 1953; Nihon nijūroku seijin [26 Martyrs of Japan], Tokyo, 1972

Orch: Nihon kyōshi-kyoku [Japanese Rhapsody], 1935; Dozoku-teki san-renga (Tryptique aborigène), chbr orch, 1938; Ballata sinfonica, 1943; Vn Conc. no.1, 1948; Sinfonia Tapkaara, 1954; Rhapsodia concertante, vn, orch, 1959; Ritmica ostinata, pf, orch, 1961; Būresku-fū rondo [Rondo in burlesque], sym. band, 1972; Vn Conc. no.2, 1975; Lauda concertata, mar, orch, 1976, red. mar, wind ens, 1986; Vn Conc. no.3, 1979; Symphonic Eclogue, nijūgen, orch, 1982; Salomé, ballet suite, 1987; Japanese Suite, 1991; Kushiro Shitsugen [Kushiro Marshland], sym. tableaux, 1993

Chbr and solo inst: Kodai nihon-senpō ni yoru tōka (Cantilena ballabile sul modo antico di Giappone), gui, 1967; Kugo-ka, gui, 1969; Bintatara, ens of Jap. insts, 1973; Monoiumai, nijūgen, 1979; Fantasia for Baroque lute, 1980; Sonata, vn, pf, 1985; Kogu-ka, hp, 1989; Suite japonaise, 2 nijūgogen, 1991

Vocal: Giriyāku-zoku no furuki ginshō-uta [Ancient Minstrelsies of the Gilyak Tribe], A, pf, 1946; Okhotsk (choral ode), chorus, orch, 1958; Shiretoko hantō no gyofu no uta [Fisherman’s Song on Shiretoko Peninsula], B, pf, 1960; Shaka [Gotama the Buddha], sym. ode, chorus, orch, 1989; Inaba man'yō no uta [5 Poems after Man'yō-Inaba], S, fl, nijūgogen, 1994

Many film scores incl. Godzilla (1954)

Principal publishers: Gendai Guitar Sha, Ongaku-no-Tomo Sha, Zen-on Gakufu

WRITINGS

Ongaku nyūmon [First step in music] (Tokyo, 1951)

Kangengaku-hō [Orchestration] (Tokyo, 1953, 2/1968)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

M. Katayama and others: Ifukube Akira no uchū [Ifukube’s cosmos] (Tokyo, 1992)

Y. Kibe: Ifukube Akira: ongakuka no tanjō [Ifukube: a musician’s birth] (Tokyo, 1997)

A. Kobayashi and M. Inoue: Ifukube Akira no eiga-ongaku [Film music by Ifukube] (Tokyo, 1998)

K. Hori, ed.: Nihon no sakkyoku nijusseiki [Japanese compositions in the 20th century] (Tokyo, 1999), 139–41

MASAKATA KANAZAWA

Igbo music.

The music of the Igbo (or Ibo), who live in Nigeria, in an area bounded in the north by the Igala, the Idoma and the Tiv, in the west by the Edo or Bini, in the south and south-west by the Ijaw (Ijo), in the south-east by the Efik and Ibibio, and in the east by the borders with Cameroon (fig.1). Like the other two major ethnic groups in Nigeria, the Yoruba and the Hausa, the Igbo have had a considerable cultural influence not only on their immediate neighbours but also in other parts of the country and especially in Lagos.

1. Musical instruments.

The Igbo homeland varies from open grassland in the north and north-east to tropical rain-forest in the south. To some extent, these regional variations influence the materials available for the construction of instruments, which, in turn, controls their forms and distribution and helps to explain the variety and often extremely local provenance of musical practices.

The variety of hardwoods available in the southern rain-forest is paralleled by an equal variety of slit-drums. The most common slit-drum is perhaps the ekwe (also ekwo, ekwu or okwo), a name often used as a generic term for any Igbo slit-drum (fig.2). The ekwe is 60 to 90 cm long and may have a single or a double slit. It is used in musical ensembles but is also beaten to call assemblies or to make announcements to the local community. Drums with a single slit include the alakirija, the ekere, the ekwa (up to 120 cm high), the ekwe-mbako (made from a length of bamboo with a node at each end), the small okpokolo (similarly made from bamboo), the okwo-agida (90 cm long) and the small okwo-mata (45 cm long). Drums with single or double slits include the large ikoro (also ikolo or ukolo; fig.2b), up to 180 cm long and 120 cm high, which is used to announce the death of a prominent member of the community, at funeral ceremonies of the eminent or in times of war. Drums with a double slit include the 210 cm long ikoro-uta used at Christmas, the 60 cm long ikwirikwe used for funeral ceremonies and certain festivals, the royal ufie (or uhie) and the ufie-amadi made from cam-wood.

There are two general groups of Igbo xylophones. The first consists of small instruments with a limited number of keys, often only two. The keys are attached to the top of an open clay pot by means of a peg at each end, but are at the same time separated from the pot by a woven grass collar. These xylophones include the ekere-iko, the ngedegwu, which also occurs in the second group of large instruments, and the okobolo. The second group consists of instruments with a greater number of keys, usually about 12. These instruments are considerably larger than those in the first group, and the keys are laid across two banana or plantain trunks to which they are attached by pegs at each end. They include the abigolo, the igo, the ikwemgbo, the ngedegwu and the ngelenge or odome.

Igbo lamellophones vary mainly in the shape and material of their resonators, which are made either of wood in the shape of a box or a boat, or from half a gourd and are thus hemispherical. The instruments include the ubo (a term also used generically for any lamellophone) with six to nine keys and a wooden or gourd-resonator; the ubo-agana, the ubo-agbugba and the ubo-oba, all with either a wooden box-resonator or a hemispherical gourd-resonator; and the opanda with a box-resonator.

Igbo bells occur both with and without clappers and may be made from wood or iron. Clapperless bells are either single or double; if double, the bells give different pitches, even when of equal size. Bells with clappers are used in sets attached to a belt or frame and worn by a dancer. Clapperless bells include the 90 to 120 cm high alo or ivom made from iron and used by women’s groups to accompany song; the smaller iron ogene (also ogele, ugele or ogenni), which occurs both as a single and double bell; the double iron njagba-ogene, about 60 cm long; the large single iron ibuma, or iboma; the double wooden oyara; and the double iron ugbom-eze. Bells with clappers include the ikpo, a set of about 12 iron bells mounted on a square palm frame and worn at various dances, including those at wrestling matches; and the osa, a set of wooden bells mounted round the rim of a wooden wheel and used at the onyima festival.

The greatest variety of Igbo instruments is found among the rattles, which may be plain vessel rattles, strung vessel rattles or plain strung rattles; they are held in the hand or worn on the bodies of dancers and may be made from seed pods, wickerwork, metal cylinders or gourds; played singly, in pairs or in sets, they may be used as solo instruments or more commonly in larger ensembles. Plain vessel rattles include the oyo, the isaka and the osha, all conical wickerwork rattles woven on a wooden or gourd base and usually played in pairs by a single performer holding one instrument in each hand. Other plain vessel rattles are the ebeje, a metal cylinder rattle, and the okoroko, the ekpiri, the osha, the ujara and the nja, all leg rattles worn by dancers and consisting of woven pouches filled with small rattling objects, or of seed pods strung together. Strung vessel rattles are made from gourds strung with beads or with beans and include the oyo, the ichaka or achaka and the nyo.

Other noteworthy Igbo idiophones are the udu, a percussion vessel in the form of a clay pot with an opening in the top and in the side, and various wooden clappers (fig.3) including the ikwankwa, the akpatakpa and the oja.

Igbo aerophones consist primarily of flutes and trumpets. Flutes are either vessel flutes with finger-holes, or end-blown flutes with or without finger-holes. The principal vessel flute, an ocarina, is the clay-bodied ugene, or oja ufele, with a single finger-hole opposite the mouth-hole. End-blown flutes include the oja, a wooden flute with two opposed finger-holes, the opi-nta, a bamboo flute, the opi-ukwu, a wooden flute with cupped embouchure, and the nwakpo, a bamboo flute with five finger-holes. Trumpets, which are side-blown, are made from animal horn or from gourd. Animal horn trumpets include the opi, the okike and the odo, all made of ivory, and the opi of cow horn. Gourd-trumpets include the akpele or akbele.

Drums are either single- or double-headed. Single-headed drums are usually vertical footed instruments, but also include small wooden kettledrums (fig.4). Double-headed drums, though less common, are usually horizontal portative instruments. Single-headed drums include the aguma, the akama, the akpatakpa, the edere, the ejiri, the ekpere, various igba drums, the nkwa, the oriri and the ozi funeral drum. Double-headed portative drums (fig.5) include the okanga and the abia, both cylindrical, and the hourglass idi or odi.

String instruments form the smallest class of Igbo instruments and include the une, a mouth-resonated musical bow, the ubo agala, an eight-string pluriarc, the oboro ekpa, a set of four or more idiochord stick zithers, and the ubo akwala, a six-string trough zither.

2. Musical occasions and ensembles.

There is a considerable number of communal occasions at which music is performed, some of them involving several ensembles. The major events are those associated with the obi (ruler), public proclamations, funeral ceremonies for the eminent, seasonal festivals, wrestling matches and the visits of high-ranking officials and other dignitaries.

Royal music, or music for an obi, is performed daily in the palace and on intermittent special occasions. The ufie slit-drum, the use of which is a royal prerogative, is beaten to wake the ruler at dawn, to announce when his meals are ready and to send him to bed at night. Its timbre differs from that of other slit-drums, and its sound patterns are immediately recognizable to his subjects. It is sometimes replaced by a vertical footed drum with a single skin. An ensemble, known as the egwu ota and consisting of drums, slit-drums and clapperless bells, performs for the obi at the ofala ceremony, as well as when he leaves his palace to visit his subjects and on his return from such a visit.

Public assemblies in a community are called by means of the ekwe slit-drum, and public proclamations can be relayed on it. Igbo is a tonal language, and lexical and syntactical meaning is dependent on five syllabic tones: extra high, high, stepdown (which occurs only after a high tone and is one step lower), falling (which occurs only in certain contexts) and low. All the tonal patterns of Igbo speech, except those that involve the less common falling tone, can thus be imitated on the double-slit ekwe. Some communities still own and use the very large ikoro slit-drum for this purpose. There used to be considerable competition between neighbouring towns and villages to own the largest slit-drum in their area. The largest surviving ikoro is at Umunze in Aguata division. In addition to their use for summoning assemblies and sounding proclamations, they were also beaten in times of emergency, for instance on the outbreak of war.

The funeral ceremonies for an eminent member of a community include dancing and recitation of the heroic qualities of the deceased. Both the dance and the recitation are performed by close associates of the dead man, and the performance is known as ekwe dike (music for the brave). It may be accompanied by an ensemble comprising a set of ekwe slit-drums, a pair of oyo rattles, an oja flute and sometimes an ogene clapperless bell. If available, ikoro slit-drums are used, and the music is characterized by its tempo and polyrhythmic character, shown in ex.1.

The instruments, ensembles and music associated with the various Igbo festivals vary considerably between communities; to some extent this is true of all types of Igbo music. However egwu mgba, music for wrestling, is frequently performed by an ensemble comprising a number of ngedegwu of the larger variety, a set of ekwe slit-drums, an ogeneclapperless bell and an oja flute. The performance itself is intended to marshal and encourage the contestants representing the group to which the musicians belong. Ensembles including a number of ngedegwu also perform for the visits of important people, such as ministers of state, to specific communities. In some areas, however, the ngedegwu is reserved as a secret and ritual instrument: at Nsukka, for example, it is housed in a special building that women are forbidden to enter; if they see the instrument, they incur heavy penalties, sometimes death. In other areas, the ngedegwu may be used as a solo instrument to accompany storytelling. A single performer accompanies the story teller by playing an ostinato-like reiteration of the phrase ife o nekwu melu eme, which affirms that what is said is true.

3. General musical features.

In spite of a well-established education system in Nigeria and a university in Lagos with a music department, there has as yet been little systematic study of Igbo music. The general features of Igbo music can be briefly summarized. Singing is often in unison, but combinations of voice parts in parallel 3rds and 6ths are also common. The use of these intervals may be a legacy of early European mission schools, as there appears to be a separate and older tradition of singing in parallel 4ths and 5ths, which sometimes may be heard in performances by women’s groups accompanied by the alo, a clapperless bell. The most common vocal scale is equivalent to the diatonic major with a frequent use of modes similar to the E- and C-modes. Polytonality sometimes arises from the combination of voices with instruments. Combinations of instruments often result in polyrhythms, and instrumental music in particular is characterized by its extremely vigorous tempos.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

G.T. Basden: Among the Ibos of Nigeria (London, 1921/R)

E. Erokwu: ‘The Musical Instruments of my District’, Nigerian Field, i/5 (1931–2), 18–20

W.B. Yeatman: ‘Ibo Musical Instruments’, Nigerian Teacher, no.3 (1934), 17

A. Madumere: ‘Ibo Village Music’, African Affairs, lii (1953), 63–7

H. Whyte: ‘Types of Ibo Music’, Nigerian Field, xviii (1953), 182–6

M. Mackay and A. Ene: ‘The Atilogwu Dance’, AfM, i/4 (1957), 20–22

A.N.G. Oksa: ‘Ibo Musical Instruments’, Nigeria, no.75 (1962), 4–14

W.W.C. Echezona: Musical Instruments in Ibo Culture (diss., Michigan State U., 1963)

D.W. Ames: ‘Professionals and Amateurs: the Musicians of Zaria and Obimo’, African Arts, i/2 (1967–8), 40–45, 80–84

M. Nzewi: ‘The Rhythm of Dance in Igbo Music’, Conch, iii/2 (1971), 104–8

L.E.N. Ekwueme: Ibo Choral Music: its Theory and Practice (diss., Yale U., 1972)

D.W. Ames: ‘Igbo and Hausa Musicians: a Comparative Examination’, EthM, xvii (1973), 250–78

M. Nzewi: ‘Melo-Rhythmic Essence and Hot Rhythm in Nigerian Folk Music’, BPM, ii (1974), 23–8

M. Nzewi: Master Musicians and the Music of Ese, Ukom and Mgba Ensembles in Ngwa, Igbo Society (diss., Queen’s U. of Belfast, 1977)

J. Uzoigwe: The Compositional Techniques of Ukom Music of South-Eastern Nigeria (diss., Queen’s U. of Belfast, 1981)

J.N. Lo-Bamijoko: ‘Classification of Igbo Musical Instruments, Nigeria’, AfM, vi/4 (1987), 19–41

A.O. Ifionu: ‘Cultural Influences on the Igbo Traditional Music from Pre-Colonial Times to 1967’, Nsukka Journal of History, i (1989), 151–68

R.C. Okafor: ‘Women in Igbo Musical Culture’, Nigerian Field, liv (1989), 3–4

recordings

Nigeria, iii: Igbo Music, Bärenreiter-Musicaphon BM 30 SL 2311 (1980) [incl. notes by D.W. Ames]

Igbo-Music, Musicaphon BM 30 SL 2311 (1992) [incl. notes by D.W. Ames]

W.W.C. ECHEZONA

Iges (Lebrancon), José

(b Madrid, 31 May 1951). Spanish composer. He graduated as an industrial engineer (1982) and obtained a PhD for his thesis Arte radiofonico at the Universidad Complutense, Madrid (1997). Musically he is in part self-taught, but also studied at the Laboratorio Alea in Madrid with Jesús Ocaña, at the University of Pau (France) with David Johnson (1977) and at the Madrid Conservatory with Pablo (1977–8). He has belonged to various groups and collectives, including the Seminario de Arte e Informática and Elenfante, and he has worked with the Laboratorio de Interpretación Musical. Since 1985 he has directed the programme ‘Ars Sonora’ on the music programme of Spanish National Radio.

As a composer Iges has focussed primarily on electronic and electro-acoustic music and on multimedia, and he has written 40 pieces for radio. Since 1984 he has also collaborated with the singer Esperanza Abad, for whom he wrote works such as Ritual (1986) and Despedida que no despide (1990). The performance artist Concha Jerez also collaborated on the latter and on several pieces written since 1990. Iges is also the author of several articles and of a monograph on Nono (Madrid, 1988).

WORKS

El-ac and tape: Ritual, Mez, tape, live elecs, 1986; Tempus-tempi (para la galería), tape, 1986 [collab. F. Felipe]; Homenajes en 4'33'', tape, 1988; Tejido en el aire, whistler, tape, live elecs, 1988; Modos de contar, tape, 1989; Punto singular, 5 synchronized tapes, 1989; Río/oír, tape, 1989; Autoritratto, tape/spkr, live elecs, 1990; Como una raya en el agua, pf, tape, 1990; Despedida que no despide, Mez, live elecs, 4 synchronized tapes, 1990 [collab. E. Abad and C. Jerez]; Labirinto de linguaggi (radio perf.), 3 spkr, pfmr, 2 synchronized tapes, 1990 [collab. C. Jerez]; Desmemoria, Mez, actor, chorus 6vv, 2 tapes, 1990; Ludus ecuatorialis (radio perf.), tape, short-wave radio, 1990 [R. Bellés]; Lito-grafía, tape, 1990; Argot (radio perf.), 2 synchronized tapes, 20 cassettes, 20 radio receivers, 10 microphones, FM transmitter, 1991; Labyrinthe de langages (radio perf.), 3 spkr, pfmr, 10 microphones, 2 synchronized tapes, 1991; El diario de Jonás, 1v, perc, live elecs, pfmr, 4 sound sources, 1997 [collab. C. Jerez];

Seven Minutes Desert, Mez, tape, 1991; Force in, tape, 1992 [collab. C. Jerez]; Spoken Madrid, tape, 1992 [collab. C. Jerez]; Bazaar of Broken Utopias (radio perf.), pfmr, sound effects, tape, 1993; Kielten labirintii (radio perf.), spkr, pfmr, tape, 1993 [collab. C. Jerez]; La ciudad de agua, tape, 1994 [collab. C. Jerez]; Esercizi sulla fragilità, perc, tape, 1994; Acción-Reacción, 2 accdn, tape, 1995; Music Minus One I: Concierto barrocco, (descant rec + treble rec)/fl, tape, 1995; Nick en La Habana, 2 pfmrs, tape, 1995 [collab. C. Jerez]; Préstame 88, pf, 2 pfmrs, tape, 1995–6 [collab. C. Jerez]; El silbido del Caballo de Hierro atravesando el umbra del Paraíso, tape, 1995–6 [collab. C. Jerez]; La Isla de las Mujeres, Mez, tape, 1996; Music Minus One II: Alegrías, trbn, tape, 1996; Music Minus One III: Hommage to Falla, tape, 1996 [collab. R. Bellés]; El diario de Jonás, 1v, perc, live elecs, pfmr, 4 sound sources, 1997 [collab. C. Jerez]; Polyphemus' Eye, 2 tapes, 1997 [collab. C. Jerez]; Radio 2, tape, 1997; Tagebuch/Diario (radio perf.), tape, 1998; La ciudad resonante, live elecs, theremin, octapad, 3 CDs, 1998–9

Acoustic: Una cierta melodía, fl, cl, vc, perc, 1979; Reunión, fl, ob, cl, tpt, bn, 1980; Geometrías, ob, cl, tpt, pf, 1981; Gestos, chbr ens, 1982; Tres, gui, 1982; Los nombres del amor, pf, 1984–5; De cómo tomar un agua cualquiera y darle forma de cubo, chorus, 1987; Cosa de dos, pf 4 hands, 1988; Extraños compañeros de juegos, gui, accdn, 1997

Principal recording companies: ACA, Circulo de Bellas Artes, RTVE Música

BIBLIOGRAPHY

T. Marco: Historia de la música española, ed. P. López de Osaba, vi: Siglo XX (Madrid, 1983; Eng. trans. as Spanish Music in the Twentieth Century, 1993)

A. Reverter: ‘José Iges’, Concierto monográfico encontre de compositors (Palma de Mallorca, 1988)

G. García-Alcalde: ‘La prueba de eternida’, Despedida que no despide: Requiem escénico a la memoria de Agustín Millares, de José Iges y Concha Jerez (Las Palmas, 1990)

F. Castro, H. Grundmann and L. Siemens: Exposición José Iges y Concha Jerez: ‘La mirada del testigo’/‘El acecho del guardián’ (Vitoria, 1998)

MARTA CURESES

Iggy Pop [Osterberg, James Newell]

(b 21 April 1947). American punk, rock and pop vocalist. He played the drums in blues bands (gaining his nickname in an act called The Iguanas) before forming the Psychedelic Stooges in 1967 with the brothers Ron Asheton (guitar) and Scott Asheton (drums), along with the bass player Dave Alexander, changing the band's name to the Stooges in 1969. He became known as an intense and transgressive performer who sometimes went so far as to roll in broken glass or otherwise wound himself. With albums such as Raw Power (Col., 1973), he made some of the harshest music heard during the late 1960s and early 70s, for which he is sometimes called the father of punk rock. In contrast to the peace-and-love messages of much psychedelic rock, his lyrics were bleak and perverse in their challenge to the status quo, and his music was unapologetically raucous and amateurish. The Stooges broke up in 1974 and Pop released a series of solo albums beginning in 1976, often working in collaboration with David Bowie. Pop's later work, such as Blah-Blah-Blah (A&M, 1986), was less noisy and closer to mainstream pop in its tone and techniques. (I. Pop: I Need More, Los Angeles, 1982)

ROBERT WALSER

Iglesias Álvarez, Antonio

(b Orense, 1 Oct 1918). Spanish pianist, composer, conductor, administrator, critic and writer on music. He studied piano and composition with José Cubiles and Conrado del Campo at the Madrid Conservatory, taking diplomas in piano (1935) and composition (1944); later he was a pupil of Marguerite Long, Lazare Lévy and Yves Nat in Paris and of Isidore Philipp in New York, and studied conducting with Luís de Freitas Branco and Louis Fourestier. He has made concert tours of Europe, North Africa and the USA. His professional activities have included the founding (1957) and directing of the Orense Conservatory of Music, giving piano masterclasses and teaching the interpretation of Spanish music at Música en Compostela (from 1958) and organizing the Manuel de Falla seminars and courses at Granada. He created (1962) the Semanas de Música Religiosa at Cuenca and as music adviser to the Instituto de Cultura Hispánica planned music festivals in Spain and the USA in collaboration with the Organization of American States; he has served as secretary-general of the Spanish section of ISCM (whose festivals he organized in 1965) and of the Spanish National Committee of the IMC, and as music critic of the newspaper Informaciones, later known as ABC. In 1965 he began to serve as technical director of the scholarly series Investigaciones concerned with sacred music and sponsored by the Institute of Religious Music at Cuenca. At the Dirección General de Bellas Artes he has had a decisive role in determining current musical activities. He has written chiefly on early 20th-century Spanish composers. His compositions include the symphonic poem Primera salida de Don Quijote (1944), first performed in 1945 under Stokowski in San Antonio, Texas, and Ao lonxe for voice and piano (1961), as well as transcriptions and revisions of Marcial del Aldalid’s piano works (1962). In 1989 he was made an Officier de l'Ordre des Artes et Lettres (Paris), and in 1996 he became secretary-general of the Real Academia de Bellas Artes de S Fernando (Madrid).

WRITINGS

Oscar Esplá: su obra para piano (Madrid, 1962)

Joaquín Rodrigo: su música para piano (Madrid, 1965)

ed.: Música religiosa de Cuenca (Cuenca, 1965–77)

Oscar Esplá (Madrid, 1973)

Federico Mompou: su obra para piano (Madrid, 1976)

Federico Mompou (Madrid, 1977)

Rodolfo Halffter: su obra para piano (Madrid, 1979)

ed.: Escritos de Joaquín Turina (Madrid, 1982)

Manuel de Falla: su obra para piano (Madrid, 1983)

ed.: Escritos de Conrado del Campo (Madrid, 1984)

Enrique Granados: su obra para piano (Madrid, 1985–6)

Isaac Albéniz: su obra para piano (Madrid, 1987)

Joaquín Turina: su obra para piano (Madrid, 1989–90)

Manuel Quiroga: su obra para violin (Santiago de Compostela, 1992)

Rodolfo Halffter: tema, nueve décades y final (Madrid, 1992)

Música in Compostela (Santiago de Compostela, 1994–5) [covering the period 1958–94]

Coro Nacional de España, 24 años, 1971–96 (Madrid, 1996)

Joaquín Rodrigo: su obra para piano, piano a 4 manos, dos pianos y piano y orquesta (Madrid, 1996)

ed.: Escritos de Joaquín Rodrigo (Madrid, 1997)

ISRAEL J. KATZ

Ignacio, Rafael

(b San Francisco de Macorís, 15 June 1897; d Santo Domingo, 1984). Dominican composer and conductor. He studied solfège and the cornet with Andrés Requena and Oguís Negrette in his home town, co-founding the town hall’s Children’s Band at the age of 10. He established several dance orchestras and studied the string bass with L.A. Betances, becoming a founder member of the Orquesta Filarmónica Beethoven (c1918). After moving to Santo Domingo in 1923 and teaching himself the tuba and the alto saxhorn, he joined the municipal band on the tuba under the direction of J. de J. Ravelo. In Azua in 1927 he was appointed director of the municipal Academy of Music and the municipal band, also conducting a dance orchestra. A captain in the army, he became the conductor of the regimental bands of Santo Domingo (1930) and Santiago (1941), later rising to become Supervisor of Bands of the Armed Forces and the Police. In the capital he was a founder member of the Orquesta Sinfónica de Santo Domingo (1932), which evolved into the Orquesta Sinfónica Nacional (1942).

Along with J.F. García, Ignacio was an early orchestrator of the merengue, the main folkdance of the northern region; its introduction into the dance hall legitimized its use by the urban élite. Popular abroad through recordings, his orchestrations were at the start of a process of evolution into a popular music of international commercial success. In his most well-known piece, the Suite folklorica (1939) for band, which he arranged for orchestra then chorus and orchestra, he included Afro-Dominican long drums and the paloma, an unaccompanied and unmetered work song of Spanish origin. His music, more than that of other composers of his generation, shows an authentic connection to folk sources, a link attributable both to his origins and to his work with band, a medium of musical interface between the non-literate and literate populations.

WORKS

(selective list)

Orch: Hoja de album, 1932; Canción de Cuna, 1933; Dominicanización de la frontera, sym. fantasy, 1952; Sym. no.1, c; Cosas añejas, sarambo, 1965; Diálogo campesino, sarambo, 1972; Rondó popular, 1973

Band: Celeste, polka, tpt, band, 1935; Lamentos del Corazón, 1936 ; Suite folklórica, 1939, arr. orch, 1941, arr. chorus, orch, 1969; Rondó popular, 1941; Scherzando, 1953; Marcha de coronación, 1955; Himno del Ateneo de Azua, 1966

Chorus: Misa dominicana, d, chorus, orch, 1966

Dance music (1913–73): 18 merengues, 12 danzones, 14 danzas, 9 criollas, 6 foxtrots, 6 valses, 3 tangos, 2 habaneras, sarambo, pregón, pambiche, pachanga-merengue

BIBLIOGRAPHY

J.M. Coopersmith: Music and Musicians of the Dominican Republic (Washington DC, 1949), 31 only

B. Jorge: La música dominicana: siglos XIX–XX (Santo Domingo, 1982)

A. Incháustegui: Por amor el arte: notas sobre música, compositores e intérpretes dominicanos (Santo Domingo, 1995), 24–6

MARTHA ELLEN DAVIS

Ignannino, Pater Angelo [Ignanimus, Angelus]

(b Altamura; d Venice, 1543). Italian composer. His life and works are still to be documented. Fétis described him as a Dominican monk, and maestro di cappella at Venice, though presumably not at S Marco, since his name does not appear among the musicians in Francesco Caffi's transcripts of the registers. Without citing his source of information Fétis credited Ignannino with the authorship of masses, motets, psalms, Lamentations, responsories, and three books of madrigals for three to six voices, all published in Venice. He is also supposed to have written a treatise on plainsong and some ‘ricercate con l'intavolatura’, consisting principally of preparations and resolutions of 4th and 7th suspensions which, according to Fétis, are in a manuscript in Altamura. (FétisB)

DON HARRÁN

Igumnov, Konstantin (Nikolayevich)

(b Lebedyan, 19 April/1 May 1873; d Moscow, 24 March 1948). Russian pianist and teacher. He began piano lessons with Zverev in 1887, shortly after his family had moved to Moscow. The following year he was accepted as a pupil at the Moscow Conservatory, studying piano with Ziloti and Pabst, theory and composition with Taneyev, Arensky and Ippolitov-Ivanov and chamber music with Safonov. Igumnov graduated in 1894 with a gold medal for piano and subsequently entered the international Rubinstein Piano Competition in Berlin, at which Josef Lhévinne was awarded the first prize, and he an honorary diploma.

His long and illustrious teaching career at the Moscow Conservatory dated from 1899, and he remained there until his death; from 1924 to 1929 he served as rector. Igumnov continued to play in public throughout, and his interpretations were noted for their deep lyricism and a spiritual identification with the music that precluded all histrionics and overt virtuosity. In his teaching he laid special emphasis on the relationship between singing and piano playing, as regards both phrasing and tone production. Renowned as an interpreter of Tchaikovsky and early Skryabin, he was also entrusted by Rachmaninoff with the first performance of the Sonata in D minor and the Russian première of the Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini. Recordings, taken from recitals, exist of Tchaikovsky’s G major Sonata and Piano Trio in A minor, Chopin’s B minor Sonata, Schumann’s Kreisleriana and Skryabin’s Second Sonata. His pupils included Orlov, the conductor Dobroven, Oborin, Fliyer and Grinberg.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Ya. Mil'shteyn: ‘Ispolnitel'skiye i pedagogicheskiye printsipï K.N. Igumnova’ [Igumnov’s principles of performance and teaching], Mastera sovetskoy pianisticheskoy shkolï, ed. A.A. Nikolayev (Moscow, 1954, 2/1961), 40–114

D. Rabinovich: Portretï pianistov [Portraits of pianists] (Moscow, 1962, 2/1970)

Ya. Mil'shteyn: ‘K.N. Igumnov i voprosï fortepiannoy pedagogiki’ [Igumnov and questions of piano teaching], Voprosï fortepiannogo ispolnitel'stva, i, ed. M.G. Sokolov (Moscow, 1965), 141

Ya. Mil'shteyn: Konstantin Nikolayevich Igumnov (Moscow, 1975)

M.G. Sokolov, ed.: Pianistï rasskazïvayut [Reminiscences of pianists] (Moscow, 1979)

JAMES METHUEN-CAMPBELL

Ikebe, Shin'ichirō

(b Mito, 15 Sept 1943). Japanese composer. After piano and composition lessons from around the age of six, he joined brass bands, choirs, youth orchestras and private opera productions while at school. He studied composition to postgraduate level at Tokyo National University of Fine Arts and Music (1963–71) with Ikenouchi, Miyoshi and Yashiro, then served as a part-time lecturer there until 1977. At Tokyo College of Music he was a lecturer (1974) and assistant professor (1982), becoming professor in 1987. He has won prizes in the Fine Arts Festival in Japan (1974, 1982–4) and the TV-Opera Festival in Salzburg (1971), and has gained the Japanese Academy Award (1980, 1991–2, 1994, 1998), the RAI Prize in Italy (1976, 1989) and an Emmy award (1989).

A prolific and versatile composer, Ikebe is well known for his incidental music for ballet, film, theatre, radio and television. In his works he has renounced a dogmatic approach, and shows agility in managing diverse techniques and effects and an inclination towards witty and theatrical gestures. He has communicated with a wide public through his compositions, in which his awareness of social conflicts and global crises is often reflected. Also active as a concert organizer, conductor, essayist and TV commentator, he was vice-president of the Japan Federation of Composers, becoming its president in 1998. Further information is given in Sakkyokuka no koten ’93: Ikebe Shin'ichirō (`An exhibition of a composer '93: Ikebe Shin'ichirō', Tokyo, 1993), edited by Tokyo Concerts.

WORKS

(selective list)

Dramatic: Shinigami [The Death Goddess] (op, 2), 1971, rev. 1978; Mogaribue [The Whistling of the Wind] (musical fantasy for TV), 1976; Chinmoku [The Silence] (musical drama for radio), 1977; Oidipusu-henreki [Oedipus Wandering] (jōruri), male chorus, 10 insts, 1984; Carmen (capriccio, after G. Bizet), chbr orch, 1989

Syms.: no.1, 1967; no.2 ‘Trias’, 1979; no.3 ‘Egō Phanō’, 1984; no.4, 1990; no.5 ‘Simplex’, 1990; no.6 ‘On the Individual Coordinates’, 1993

Orch: Construction, 2 movts, 1966; Pf Conc. no.1, 1967; Energeia, 60 players, 1970; Dimorphism, org, orch, 1974; Vn Conc., 1981; Pf Conc. no.2 ‘Tu m’ … ’, 1987; Vc Conc. ‘Almost a Tree’, 1996

Chbr: Crepa in sette capitoli, vn, 3 va, vc, db, 1966; Un-en, 2 koto, 17-str koto, str, 1970

Vocal: 2 ballades, A, pf, 1966; Doronko no uta [Poems Engraved on Clay Tablets], children’s chorus, pf, 1982; Ibun ‘Bocchann’, chorus, pf, 1983

Film scores: Kagemusha [The Shadow Warrior] (dir. A. Kurosawa), 1980; Narayamabushikō [The Ballad of Narayama] (dir. S. Imamura), 1983; Unagi [The Eel] (dir. Imamura), 1997

Principal publishers: Kawai, Ongaku-no-Tomo sha, Zen-on Music

WRITINGS

Oto no Iinokoshita Mono: Dōjidai no Mado kara [Things inexpressible in sound: through the contemporary window] (Tokyo, 1982)

Splash: Dialogues with Ikebe Shin'ichirō (Tokyo, 1993)

TATSUHIKO ITOH

IITM.

See International institute for traditional music.

Ikenouchi, Tomojirō

(b Tokyo, 21 Oct 1906; d Tokyo, 9 March 1991). Japanese composer and teacher. The second son of Kyoshi Takahama, a leading haiku poet, he spent two years at Keiō University and then decided on a musical career. He went to Paris in 1927 to study at the Conservatoire with Fauchet (harmony), Caussade (fugue) and Büsser (composition). Returning to Japan in 1933 he joined the Shinkō Sakkyokuka Renmei (later the Japanese Society for Contemporary Music) and in 1934 he presented a successful concert of his own works. In 1934–6 he was again in Paris, completing his studies with Büsser and taking a first prize in harmony. He was appointed lecturer at Nihon University, Tokyo, in 1936 and professor of composition at the Tokyo National University of Fine Arts and Music in 1947. He has served as president of the Japanese-French Music Society and of the Japanese Musicians’ Club. He was admitted to the Légion d’Honneur (1962) and his achievements were recognized by the Japanese government (1986).

As a composer he is a perfectionist: his pieces are few and compact. Of all Japanese composers he is most clearly descended from the French school, from Impressionism and from the Conservatoire tradition, and his music shows his admiration for Mozart, Saint-Saëns and, above all, Ravel. At the same time he has been one of the most influential composition teachers in Japan; his pupils include Ichiyanagi, Ishii, Mayuzumi and Shinohara. With several of his students he formed the Shinshin Kai group in 1955. Ikenouchi is also a haiku poet, belonging to the Hototogisu group founded by his father.

WORKS

(selective list)

Tanshō kumikyoku [A Suite of Short Movts], orch, 1937; Str Qt no.1, 1937; Shiki [4 Seasons], orch, 1938; Nihon koyō ni yoru gensōkyoku [Fantasy on a Japanese Folksong], vc, pf, 1940; Yuya (after Nō), S, chbr orch, 1942; Sonata, fl, pf, 1945; Str Qt no.2, 1945; Sonata, vn, pf, 1946; Str Qt no.3, 1946; S Sonatine, 1948; Kōkyōteki nishō [Sym. in 2 Movts], 1951; Pf Sonatine, 1954, rev. 1974; Sonatine, vn, pf, 1956; Sonatine, vc, pf, 1957; Reisō [Ceremonial Music], 2 pf, 1958; Koi no omoni [Burden of Love], Bar, timp, chorus, 1974

Principal publisher: Ongaku-no-Tomo Sha

WRITINGS

Taiihō [Counterpoint] (Tokyo, 1941, 2/1949)

Waseihō kōgi [Lecture on harmony] (Tokyo, 1950)

Nisei taiihō [Counterpoint in 2 parts] (Tokyo, 1965)

Waon kōseion [Chordal analysis] (Tokyo, 1966–70)

Sansei-hassei taiihō [Counterpoint in 3 to 8 parts] (Tokyo, 1975)

Gakushū tonsōkyoku [Study on fugue] (Tokyo, 1977)

MASAKATA KANAZAWA

Ikhwān al-Safā’ [‘Brethren of Purity’].

A 10th-century group of Islamic encyclopedists of Ismaili tendencies centred on Basra, one of whose epistles (Rasā’il) deals with music. Unlike most other music theorists of the 10th and 11th centuries, the Ikhwān al-Safā’ were chiefly concerned with the neo-Platonic and Hermetic aspects of the Greek heritage. Their work is of some interest for its scientific aspects (in particular the theory of the spherical propagation of sound) and for its treatment of musical practice: for example, following al-Kindī, the discussion of the lute gives, in addition to a (simple Pythagorean) fretting, details of proportions and construction. But the most characteristic features of their work, again following al-Kindī, are to be found in their study of cosmology, where the notion of cosmic harmony (based on the Pythagorean concept of the primacy of number and numerical relationships) is the unifying principle in the discussion of such topics as the music of the spheres, the moral and medical effects of music, and the sets of natural phenomena (including the elements, winds, humours, colours and perfumes) to which the rhythms and the four strings of the lute could be related.

WRITINGS

Rasā’il [The epistles] (MS, GB-Ob Hunt 296); Ger. trans. in F. Dieterici: Die Propaedeutik der Araber im zehnten Jahrhundert (Berlin, 1865/R), 100–153; Fr. trans. with commentary by A. Shiloah: ‘L’épître sur la musique des Ikhwān al-Safa’’, Revue des études islamiques, xxxii (1964), 125–62; xxxiv (1966), 159–93

BIBLIOGRAPHY

EI2 (Y. Marquet)

H.G. Farmer: A History of Arabian Music (London, 1929/R)

F. Shehadi: Philosophies of Music in Medieval Islam (Leiden, 1995)

OWEN WRIGHT

Ikil [ikel].

Two-string box or bowl spike fiddle played by Western Mongol groups, such as Baits, Torguts, Zakchins and Altai Urianghais. Use of this term by Western Mongols suggests connections with neighbouring Turkic groups: it may, for instance, be related to the Tuvan igil, Turkish iqliq, and Anatolean Turk iki kili (‘with two hairs’). It may also be that the Mongolian name sometimes used for two- and four-string fiddles hiil (kigili) was more widespread before standardization of the term huur during the communist era. In 1933 Berlinskiy noted that the instrument was called khil in Khalkha Mongolia.

The instrument has rear-inserted tuning-pegs and deeply arched bow, indicating that it is an archaic instrument (see illustration). Sagittal pegs are sometimes found. The ikil and two-string plucked lute Topshuur are closely related: unlike the huur, the bass string is on the left in frontal aspect on both ikil and topshuur and both instruments are tuned to an interval of a 4th. Similarly, Bachmann noted that the Altai ikili and topschur are identical in every respect, though the former is played with horsehair bow and the latter plucked.

Different groups have their own methods, measurements and rules of construction for the instrument. Among Baits and Dörbets, the peg box was often traditionally decorated with a representation of the wish-granting jewel of Buddhist mythology chandman’. Neck and pegs must be made from different woods, dried birch and willow, so that wear does not occur, and the neck should be made so that the root points downwards, as a sign of respect. The frame of the body is made from poplar. Frames of both ikil and topshuur are traditionally covered by the stomach, bladder and ventricles of ruminants, as well as mares' udders. Resonators of some ikil are now made completely from wood but, when trapezoidal in shape, are more elongated than huur. Players stop the string at the lower end of the fiddle's neck by wrapping over it the fingers of the left hand and pulling the string towards its palm, away from the body.

The ikil is used to lead or accompany biy-dances (see Mongol music, §3(i)), for which there is a special repertory of melodies (biyelgeenii tatlaga). A prelude to the dance is sometimes performed (ehledeg tatlaga) which, together with the biy-dance tune repertory, varies according to ethnic group. When the ikil is used to accompany satirical songs, ‘teaching’ songs, epics (tuul'), praise-songs (magtaal) and legends (domog tatlaga), melodies from a different repertory are selected. As with the huur, ikil melodies often imitate natural phenomena as in Eeviin Golyn Ursgal (‘Flow of the River Eev’), and the movements, vocalizations and sounds of birds and animals as in Morny Joroo (‘Ambler’), they are also used to attract birds in springtime (shuvuuny dallaga) and to ‘call’ deer (bugyn duudlaga).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

Grove6 (‘Khuur’; A. Nixon)

P.M. Berlinskiy: Mongolskiy pevets-muzykant Ul'dzui-Lubsan-Khurchi [The Mongol singer-musician Uldzui-Luvsan-Hurchi] (Moscow, 1933)

W. Bachmann: The Origins of Bowing and the Development of Bowed Instruments up to the Thirteenth Century (Oxford, 1969)

J. Badraa: Mongol ardyn högjim [Mongolian folk music] (Ulaanbaatar, 1998)

C.A. Pegg: Mongolian Music, Dance and Oral Narrative: Performing Diverse Identities (Seattle and London, 2001) [with CD]

CAROLE PEGG

Ikonomov, Boyan Georgiyev

(b Nikopol, 14 Dec 1900; d Sofia, 27 March 1973). Bulgarian composer and conductor. He studied in Sofia (1920–26) and later in Paris with d’Indy and Guy de Lioncourt at the Schola Cantorum, and with Boulanger and Roussel; he also took a conducting course with Weingartner in Basle in 1934. In 1937 he returned to Bulgaria, where he held various appointments, working with the Bulgarian film institute (1948–56) and Sofia Radio (head of the music department, 1957–60). During his stay in Paris, Ikonomov had fruitful contacts with Stravinsky, Honegger and Milhaud. Predominantly a composer of instrumental music, he nevertheless wrote several works for the stage, including a historical opera in 1960 in the mainstream Bulgarian tradition – Ihdzhe voyvoda (‘Indzhe the Resistance Fighter’). His style is largely rooted in Bulgarian folksong, and of particular influence were its modal inflections and unusual rhythmic characteristics.

WORKS

(selective list)

Stage: Sedemte smurtni pregresheniya [The Seven Deadly Sins] (ballet), 1933; The Tragedy of Othello (ballet), 1946; Indzhe voyvoda [Indzhe the Resistance Fighter] (op, prol, 5 scenes), 1960, Stara Zagora, Opera House, 1969; Malkite hitreci [The Cunning Little Boys] (children’s operetta), 1960; The Light Floods Everything (ballet), 1967

Vocal: George Dimitrov (cant.), 1954; The Legend of Shipka (orat), 1968; Poem about Lenin (cant.), 1969; Vassil Levsky (orat), 1972; choruses and songs

Orch: Haidouk Rhapsody, 1932; Sinfonietta, 1934; Kaliakra, sym. poem, 1935; Pastorale, chbr orch, 1937; Sym. [no.1], 1937; Pastorale and Dance, 1939; Shar Planina, sym. poem, 1942; Sym [no.2], 1947; Vn Conc., 1951; Sym. [no.3], 1955; Divertimento, str qt, orch, 1956; Pf Concertino, pf, orch, 1958; Sym. [no.4], 1971

Chbr: Str Qt [no.1], 1933; Trio, ob, cl, bn, 1935; Str Qt [no.2], 1937; Str Qt [no.3], 1941; Str Qt [no.4], 1944; Str Qt [no.5], 1945; Str Qt [no.6], 1949; Trio, ob, cl, bn, 1968

Film scores, incid music, solo inst works

Ikonomov, Stefan

(b Sliven, 8 May 1937; d Sofia, 27 Aug 1994). Bulgarian composer. At the recommendation of Veselin Stoyanov he attended a boarding school in Sofia for gifted children. His first composition teachers were Vladigerov and Hadjiev. From 1955 to 1960 he studied the piano with Viktor Merdzhanov and composition with Anatoly Aleksandrov at the Moscow Conservatory. After graduating he returned to Sofia and was appointed lecturer in harmony at the State Music Academy; he later taught score reading and in 1993 was made full professor. His compositional method entailed thorough preliminary configuration of the material (on several staves) followed by precise arrangement of voicings. Stylistically, his output subscribes to the Romantic tradition, as suggested by the titles and instrumentation of his works as well as the manner in which texture is formed. The musical idea may be presented in several contrasting or variant forms, couched in a dramatic or balladic style or in a scherzo-like playfulness that betrays Ikonomov’s in-depth knowledge of instrumental fingering. His erudite style serves as a bridge between most profound elements of the Bulgarian tradition, its place within a European context and a fusion of ‘archaic’ and ‘new wave’ folk music traditions in contemporary music.

WORKS

(selective list)

Ballet: Khoro [Line Dance] (4), 1963

Orch: Pastorale, solo wind, hp, chbr orch, 1972; Pf Conc., 1978; Sym., str, 1982; Conc. Suite, va, chbr orch, 1983; Musica concertante, 2 pf, str, 2 bongos, 1990

Chbr and solo inst: 4 Stücke, cl, 1954–5; 3 Stücke, pf, 1955; Str Qt, 1957; Obrazi [Images], vc, pf, 1961; Pastoral i tants [Pastoral and Dance], ob, pf, 1964; Nastroyeniya [Moods], str qt, 1969; Pastorale, hn, pf, 1969; Scherzo, 2 hp, 1970; Sonata, 2 hp, 1970; Burlesque, hn, pf (1971); Vavedeniye i tants [Introduction and Dance], vc, pf, 1973; Geroiko-kharakteristichen tants [Heroic Dance], pf 4 hands, 1974; Shega [Joke], tpt, pf (1974); Epitaph, hn, pf (1976); Music, pf, perc (1977); Introduction and Dance, vn, pf, (1978); Ritmichni dvizheniya [Rhythmical Moves], ob, cl, bn, hn, 1979; Malkata palavnitsa [Mischievous Girl], fl, pf, 1982; Capriccio, 4 tpt (1983); Meditatsii, cl, pf, perc, 1985; Sonata, 2 pf 4 hands (1985); Prelude, Chorale and Fugue, org, 1987; Nocturne, hp (1989); Wind Qnt, fl, ob, cl, bn, hn, 1991; Posveshteniye [Dedication], vc, org, 1991

Principal publishers: Muzika (Sofia)

TOMI KURKLISIJSKY

Ikuta Kengyō

(b 1656; d Kyoto, 14/23 June 1715). Japanese instrumentalist and composer. He specialized in the heikyoku, which he probably studied with Imai Kengyō, and the koto, which he probably studied with Kitajima Kengyō. In 1696 he was promoted to the rank of Kengyō in the guild of professional blind musicians. He may have inaugurated the Ikuta-ryū school of koto playing. He has been attributed with transforming the koto tsume (plectrum) from the narrow, long version used by the tsukushi-goto into the modern ikuta form (square-shaped); with inventing two new tuning systems, hon-kumoi-jōshi and nakazora-chōshi; and with producing the first ensemble combination of koto and shamisen (shamisen) by adding a jiuta. All of these are significant milestones in the development of sōkyoku and its relationship with jiuta. However, there is no evidence that he made these innovations alone; it is widely thought that they should be equally attributed to Kitajima Kengyō, who died before Ikuta was promoted to the rank of Kengyō. The name ‘Ikuta Kengyō’ was later adopted by Ōmori Kengyō and Hideshima Kengyō on their respective promotions to the rank of Kengyō in 1715 and 1740.

The following works are probably by Ikuta: 3 koto kumiuta (Kagami no kyoku; Koryū shiki genji (also attributed to Yatsuhashi); Omoigawa (also attributed to Kitajima)); the danmono Godan no shirabe (also attributed to Kitajima and Tomino Kōtō); Kinuta; the nagauta (Ozasa); and Jūnidan sugagaki (for shamisen).

At first, Ikuta's music was transmitted orally and later it was transcribed and printed. Omoigawa and Godan no shirabe were printed in Sōkyoku tailshū (Tokyo, 1792), while Kagami no kyoku and Koryū shiki genji were secretly transmitted and notated only in 1941. Kinuta was printed in Yanoichi zōhan bon kinuta no fu (Tokyo, 1822) and its slightly transformed version is still practised. Ozasa was not notated and only its song text is preserved. Many of these works are in an edition by H. Kikuhara (Jiuta Sōkyoku gskufu zensha, Tokyo, 1987).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

GroveJapan (‘Sō’, M. Nogawa)

E. Kikkawa: Nihon ongaku no rekishi [History of Japanese music] (Osaka, 1965)

K. Hirano: Shamisen to koto no kumiuta: sōkyoku jiuta kenkyū [Kumiuta for koto and shamisen] (Tokyo, 1987)

K. Hirano: ‘Ikuta kengyô’, Nihon ongaku dai jiten [Encyclopedia of Japanese music] (Tokyo, 1988), 593b–c

E. Kikkawa: A History of Japanese Koto Music and Ziuta, ed. O. Yamaguti (Tokyo, 1997) [trans. and suppl. by L.C. Holvik]

YOSIHIKO TOKUMARU

Il Conte, Bartolomeo.

See Le Conte, Bartholomeus.

Ileborgh, Adam

(fl c1448). German organist and composer, author of one of the earliest German organ tablatures, dated 1448 (since 1981 in a private collection, previously US-PHci; ed. in CEKM, i). Its title, as the sole source of information concerning his life, indicates that he was a Franciscan brother and rector of the town school at Stendal in the March of Brandenburg. As such he might have served as organist of the Marienkirche, which was consecrated in 1447.

The tablature consists of only seven folios 14·2 x 10·7 cm (the incorrect measurements, 28 x 21 cm, hitherto published, together with other mistakes in description based on Apel's research, have led to untenable hypotheses with respect to the significance of the source) containing eight settings. Five are free preludes with metrically undefined discant declamation over sustained notes in one or two parts in the pedals. They resemble similar pieces in the Erlangen tablature (D-ERu 554), obviously representing early practices in organ improvisation. The remaining three settings (mensurae) of the secular cantus firmus Frowe al myn hoffen an dyr lyed display strict mensural organization in two- or three-part writing, sometimes with additional notes to fill in the harmony. The primitive, ambiguous and partly faulty notation of all pieces prohibits conclusive decipherment.

The composition of the pieces is of much lower quality than that of the south German Paumann circle, particularly with respect to the rudimentary three-part setting and the mechanical discant figuration. The significance of the tablature has been over-emphasized, due to the general lack of sources of 15th-century keyboard music. The fact that Ileborgh as a musician is totally unknown beyond this tablature, taken together with the notational and stylistic peculiarities, suggests that he was an average peripheral figure in 15th-century organ music.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

W. Apel: ‘Die Tabulatur des Adam Ileborgh’, ZMw, xvi (1934), 193–212

G. Knoche: ‘Der Organist Adam Ileborgh von Stendal: Beiträge zur Erforschung seiner Lebensumstände’, Franziskanische Studien, xxviii (1941), 53–62

G. Most: ‘Die Orgeltabulatur von 1448 des Adam Ileborgh aus Stendal’, Altmärkisches Museum Stendal, viii (1954), 43–80

A. Reichling: ‘Die Präambeln der Hs. Erlangen 554 und ihre Beziehung zur Sammlung Ileborghs’, GfMKB: Kassel 1962, 109–11

C. Wolff: ‘Arten der Mensuralnotation im 15. Jahrhundert und die Anfänge der Orgeltabulatur’, GfMKB: Bonn 1970, 609–13

L. Richter: ‘Praeambeln und Mensurae: Studien zur Orgeltabulatur des Adam Ileborgh’, BMw, xxiii (1981), 265–308

U. Konrad: ‘Aufzeichnungsform und Werkbegriff in der frühen Orgeltabulatur’, Literatur, Musik und Kunst im Übergang vom Mittelalter zur Neuzeit, ed. H. Boockmann and others (Göttingen, 1995), 162–86

For further bibliography see Keyboard music and Sources of keyboard music to 1660.

CHRISTOPH WOLFF

Ileborgh Tablature.

See Sources of keyboard music to 1660, §2(iii) and Tablature, esp. fig.2.

Iliev, Konstantin

(b Sofia, 9 March 1924; d Vidin, 6 March 1988). Bulgarian composer and conductor. Together with Lazar Nikolov he was among the first composers in eastern Europe after World War II to use modernism in music and to experiment with non-tonal techniques. His formative years coincided with the rise of the communist dictatorship in Bulgaria, and as a result of being at the forefront of Bulgaria’s avant garde he was subject to harsh criticism and censorship; the vast majority of his compositions are unpublished.

In 1946 Iliev graduated from the Bulgarian State Music Academy where he had studied composition with Pancho Vladigerov and conducting with Goleminov. He continued his studies in Prague (1946–7) as a composition student of Hába, Řídký and Talich. Following his return to Bulgaria in 1947 Iliev established the Ruse State PO and, two years later, the State Opera in Ruse, becoming its principal conductor. From 1952 to 1956 he was the principal conductor of the Varna State PO and thereafter the chief conductor of the Sofia State PO, a position he held discontinuously until 1984. During his tenure as the latter’s musical director he raised the standard of playing to international heights, and toured extensively with the orchestra in Europe, the Americas and Asia. From 1967 he was professor of conducting at the academy in Sofia; as an advocate of new music, he conducted the Bulgarian premières of works by Webern, Messiaen, Stockhausen and Boulez.

Iliev was a prolific composer who wrote in all genres but principally chose instrumental and symphonic music. Having viewed favourably the direction contemporary music was taking, he was sharply opposed to the folk and Romantic traditions typified by his teacher Vladigerov; he was also opposed to the official ideology of socialist realism. Believing that music should be ‘clear, simple and logical’, Iliev embarked on a study of technique that concentrated on the works of Stravinsky, Hindemith and the Second Viennese School with whose works he had become acquainted in Prague. In 1948–9 he made his first experiments in applying principles of 12-note serialism to the polyphonic style of Hindemith. This culminated in the Concerto grosso (1949–50), the third movement of which is a highly effective six-part fugue. The most significant work of this period, however, is his Second Symphony (1950–51) which demonstrates his mastery of serial techniques. With Fragmenti (1968) Iliev began introducing folk elements into his music, finding a corollary between folk music and aleatory techniques, which he successfully fused in works such as Bukoliki (‘Bucolics’, 1977), Glasovete na Ravninata (‘The Voices of the Plain’, 1971) and the Sixth Symphony (1983–4) In spite of his death in 1988, his influence is still felt among Bulgarian composers. His monographs Lyubomir Pipkov and Slovo i delo (‘Word and deed’) were published in Sofia in 1958 and 1997, respectively.

WORKS

(selective list)

vocal and dramatic

Ops: Boyanskiyat maystor [Boyana’s Master] (4, M. Hadzhimishev, after S. Zagorchinov), 1962, Sofia, National Opera, 3 Oct 1962; Elenovo tzarstvo [The Kingdom of the Deer] (3, Iliev), 1973, Ruse, 1976

Choral: Chudnoto khoro [The Miraculous Dance] (suite), female chorus, ww qnt, pf, 1956; Selska pesen [Peasant Song] (cant.), 1965; Zeleni oblatsi [Green Clouds] (cycle), 1965; Godishnite vremena [The Seasons] (cant.), children’s chorus, orch, 1966; 3 improvizatsii varkhu Don Kikhot [3 Improvisations on Don Quixote], 1966; 2 Poems, 1966; Pokhvalno slovo za Konstantin filosof [Eulogy for Konstantin the Philosopher] (orat), T, B, chorus, insts, 1970; Sedenkarski pesni [Sedenka Songs], 1971; Poema za martvite, posvetena na zhivite [Poem for the Dead, Dedicated to the Living], S, A, T, B, 4 spks, children’s chorus, 3 choruses, insts, loudspeaker, 1972; Proletni praznitsi [Spring Festivals], S, T, female chorus, male chorus, chorus, insts, 1975; Surnata [The Doe], female chorus, 1976; Gorata i ptitsite [The Forest and the Birds] (cant.), female chorus, 1981; Koleda [Christmas], T, B, spkr, female chorus, male chorus, insts, 1984

Other vocal: Lyato [Summer], song cycle, 1954; Otrazheniya [Reflections] (L. Hughes), cant., S, pf, 1966; Glasovete na Ravninata [The Voices of the Plain], 12 solo vv, 1971

instrumental

Syms.: no.1, 1946–7; no.2, sym. band, 1950–51; no.3, 1954, rev. 1965; no.4, B, str, 1957–8; no.5, 1958–9; no.6, 1983–4

Orch: Sonatina, 1944–5; 2 Improvisations, str, 1948; Divertimento, 1949; Conc. grosso, pf, perc, str, 1949–50; Sym. Variations, 1952–3; Fragmenti, 1968; Tempi concertati I, 13 str/(str qt, str orch), 1968; Vn Conc., 1971; Muzikalni momenti [Musical Moments, 1973; Bukoliki [Bucolics], 1977; Igri [Games], 1980; Kitka [Posy], 1980; Li in memoriam, 1982; Retrospektsii, str, 1982; Ochite na noshtta [The Eyes of the Night], 1987

Chbr: Str Qt no.1, 1948; Shega [A Joke], ob, pf, 1951; str qts: no.2, 1951–2, no.3, 1955, no.4, 1956; Komentarii, vc, pf, 1968; Tempi concertati II, fl, hpd, 12 str, 1975; Trio, vn, vc, pf, 1976; Tempi concertati III, vc, 3 inst groups, 1977; Ad Libitum, va, vc, 1978; Tempi concertati IV, vn, vc, perc, celeste, 1980; Tempi concertati V, 14/18 wind, 1981; Tempi concertati VI, fl, vc, hp, 1986; 7 Bagatelles, cl, vc, 1987

Solo inst: Sonata, vc, 1953; Sonata, vn, 1957; Dvizheniya [Movements], pf, 1964; Stranitsi ot albuma [Pages from an Album], 5 pieces for young pianists, pf, 1972; Solo per Ventischello, vc, 1987; Solo per Violingio, vn, 1987; Solo per Clavistella, pf, 1988

Principal publisher: Nauka i izkustvo, Bulgarian Composers’ Union

BIBLIOGRAPHY

I. Spasov: Simfoniite na Konstantin Iliev [The symphonies of Iliev] (Sofia, 1995)

ANNA LEVY, GREGORY MYERS

Iliński, Count Jan [Janusz] Stanisław

(b Romanów, 1795; d Brody, 23 Dec 1860). Polish composer and poet. He studied in Vienna under Salieri, Kauer and possibly Beethoven. He held posts in the senate in Warsaw and in the diplomatic service, and from 1853 was an adviser to the tsar. Active as a composer and man of letters, he employed a band on his estate at Romanów. His grandfather Jan Kajetan Iliński (1730–81), the starosta of Zhitomir, had founded a chorus and an orchestra of about 100 players; his father, Józef August Iliński (1766–1844), enlarged the orchestra and brought musicians and singers from Italy. The choir and band were conducted by Ignacy Dobrzyński (father of Ignacy Feliks), and there was also a band of horn players. Some of Iliński's compositions were published in Vienna by Mechetti and Cappi & Diabelli.

WORKS

(selective list)

Sacred: Mass, d, op.22, 1826 (Vienna, c1837); Requiem, e; Requiem, b; Te Deum; Stabat mater; 2 psalms: De profundis, Miserere

Orch: Sym., F (Vienna, n.d.); 2 pf concs.; Ov. fuguée, on a theme by Salieri; Ov. et entr'acte, to Howald's Der Leuchtthurm; Ovs. to plays, incl. Schiller's Maria Stuart; 4 marches, wind insts

Chbr: Marche, pf (Vienna, 1821); Duo concertant, E, 2 pf, op.11 (Vienna, c1825); 3 valses avec trio, pf (Vienna, c1825); 8 str qts; 3 fugues, pf 4 hands (St Petersburg, n.d.)

Songs: 8 romances françaises, 1v, pf (Vienna, 1821); 6 romances nouvelles, 1v, pf, op.7 (Vienna, 1823); 6 romances nouvelles, 1v, pf, op.3 (Vienna, 1823); Preghiera, O bella speranza, op.13 (Vienna, 1829); Der blasse Mann (J.N. Vogl), op.21 (Vienna, c1837)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

FétisB

M. Gozdawa: ‘Zakłady naukowe w Romanowie’ [Learned institutions at Romanów], Księga pamiątkowa na uczczenie setnej rocznicy urodzin Adama Mickiewicza (1798–1898), ii (Warsaw, 1898), 26–44

A. Mrygoń and M. Burchard: ‘Katalog poloników muzycznych w zbiorach austriackich’ [Catalogue of Polish music in Austrian collections], Szkice o kulturze muzycznej XIX w, ed. Z. Chechlińska, v (Warsaw, 1984)

IRENA PONIATOWSKA

Il'insky, Aleksandr Aleksandrovich

(b Tsarskoye Selo, 12/24 Jan 1859; d Moscow, 23 Feb 1920). Russian composer and teacher. He studied in Berlin with Bargiel (composition) and Kullak (piano), and graduated from the St Petersburg Conservatory in 1885. From 1885 he taught at the music and drama school of the Moscow Philharmonic Society; he was appointed professor in 1896 and remained until 1905, when he became professor of theory, history and composition at the Moscow Conservatory. As a composer he is known for an opera Bakhchisarayskiy fontan (‘The Fountain of Bakhchisaray’) and for some choral and orchestral works. He also wrote a number of books.

WORKS

(selective list)

Stage: Bakhchisarayskiy fontan [The Fountain of Bakhchisaray] (op, after Pushkin), pf score (Moscow, 1911); Nur i Anitra, dance scene, op.13, Moscow, Bol'shoy, 1907; Oedipus rex (incid music, Sophocles); Philoctetes (incid music, Sophocles); Eros i Psikheya [Eros and Psyche] (dramatic poem, after Žulawski), op.34, pf score (Moscow and Leipzig, n.d.)

Choral: Strekozï [Dragonflies] (cant.); Rusalka (cant.), pf score (Moscow, 1900)

Orch: Suite, d, op.4; 1 other suite; Sym. scherzo, op.3; Danses des Croates, sym. scherzo; Psyche, sym. frag., op.14; Tsar Fyodor, ov. to A.K. Tolstoy's play

Inst: Str Qt; pf pieces; works for vn and pf

WRITINGS

Obshchiye nachala garmonii: prakticheskoye rukovodstvo [The general principles of harmony: a practical guide] (Kharkiv, 1889)

Biografiya kompozitorovs IV po XX vekov [Biographies of composers from the 4th century to the 20th] (Moscow, 1904)

Mikhail Ivanovich Glinka: yego zhizn' i muzïkal'nïye proizvedeniya [Life and works] (Moscow, 1908)

L. Betkhoven: zhizn' i tvorchestvo [Life and works] (Moscow, 1909)

A.S. Dargomïzhsky (Moscow, n.d.)

Rikhard Vagner: yego zhizn' i tvorchestvo [Life and works] (Moscow, 1913)

Kratkoye rukovodstvo k prakticheskomu izucheniyu instrumentovki [A short guide to the practical teaching of orchestration] (Moscow, 1917)

JENNIFER SPENCER/R

Illario [Ylario; Illarius, Johannes]

(fl early 16th century). ?Spanish composer, not to be identified with Hylaire.

Illica, Luigi

(b Castell’Arquato, nr Piacenza, 9 May 1857; d Colombarone, 16 Dec 1919). Italian playwright and librettist. At an early age he ran away to sea; in 1876 he fought against the Turks. Three years later he settled in Milan and became well known in literary circles. An ardent republican, he was associated with the poet Giosuè Carducci on a radical literary review. In 1882 he produced a collection of prose sketches, Farfalle, effetti di luce, and the following year wrote his first play, I Narbonnier-Latour, in collaboration with Ferdinando Fontana. His greatest success in this field was a comedy in Milanese dialect, L’eriditàa di Felis (1891).

Illica’s activity as a librettist began in 1889 with the crudely melodramatic Il vassallo di Szigeth written for Smareglia. The association with Puccini began in 1892, when Leoncavallo suggested that Illica complete the much tormented libretto of Manon Lescaut. As much of Domenico Oliva’s work remained in the final text, including the entire fourth act, Illica tactfully withheld his name from the title-page, and the libretto was published without an attribution. In Puccini’s next three operas – La bohème, Tosca and Madama Butterfly – Illica worked in partnership with the playwright Giacosa, who versified the dialogue that his colleague had drafted out. When Giacosa died in 1906 Puccini turned to other librettists, while continuing for some years to keep Illica employed on the book of a Maria Antonietta which he never set. They discussed further projects until their contact was finally broken when in 1915 Illica volunteered for military service, although well over the age limit.

Illica’s 35 librettos run the gamut of contemporary fashions, from near-verismo to historical drama, from art nouveau symbolism to evocations of the commedia dell’arte, and range as far afield as an adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the D’Urbevilles. Though negligible as literature, they show considerable stage sense as well as invention (he was one of the earliest librettists to devise his own plots, as in Andrea Chénier and Siberia). He was especially skilful with what could be termed the ‘dynamic’ or ‘kinetic’ ensemble during which the action moves forward (e.g. the roll-call of the prostitutes in Manon Lescaut, the Café Momus scene in La bohème, the parade of the People’s Representatives in Andrea Chénier). Above all he was instrumental in breaking down the rigid system of Italian operatic metres into lines of irregular length, which Giulio Ricordi jokingly called ‘illicasillabi’ but which were eminently suited to the prevailing musical style.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

GroveO (J. Budden) [with list of libs]

G. Adami: Giulio Ricordi e i suoi musicisti (Milan, 1933)

E. Gara, ed.: ‘Il carteggio Puccini – Illica – Ricordi’, Carteggi pucciniani (Milan, 1958)

M. Morini: Luigi Illica (Piacenza, 1961)

V. Bernardoni: ‘Il femminile secondo Illica: osservazioni in margine ai libretti per Mascagni’, Studi musicali, xxiii (1994), 203–29

JULIAN BUDDEN

Illinois, University of, School of Music.

The University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign was founded in 1867; the school of music was established in 1895 and made a unit of the college of fine and applied arts in 1931. In the 1990s the school enrolled about 700 students per year and had more than 80 faculty instructors. Degrees are offered in performance, composition, musicology, music education and theory.

The library, founded in 1943, houses over 750,000 items, including several instrumental collections and personal archives (including Harry Partch’s), large quantities of American sheet music, the Musicological Archive for Renaissance Manuscript Studies (with more than 90% of known polyphonic sources from 1400 to 1550 on film), the Hymn Tune Index and an Archive of Ethnomusicology. The school’s experimental music studios, founded by Lejaren Hiller in 1958, were the first of their kind in the western hemisphere and have led many of the major developments in electro-acoustic and computer music.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

C. Hamm and H. Kellman: Census-Catalogue of Manuscript Sources of Polyphonic Music 1400–1550 (Stuttgart, 1979–88)

A.L. Silverberg: A Sympathy with Sounds: a Brief History of the University of Illinois (Urbana, IL, 1995)

N. Temperley: The Hymn Tune Index: a Census of English-Language Hymn Tunes in Printed Sources from 1535 to 1820 (Oxford, 1997)

BRUCE CARR

Illouz, Betsy.

See Jolas, Betsy.

Il Verso [Lo Verso; Versus], Antonio

(b Piazza Armerina, Sicily, ?c1560; d Palermo, c23 Aug 1621). Italian composer, poet and historian. He was the central figure of the Sicilian polyphonic school; his long and prolific career forms the bridge between his teacher Pietro Vinci and the generation of his own pupils. His parents, Clementia and Matteo de lo Verso, were landowners; his name first appears in a notarial document of 19 January 1569 at Piazza Armerina. With the exception of one possible sojourn in northern Italy, he spent most of his life in Sicily. Il Verso studied with Vinci, probably in Piazza, between 1582 and 1584, and in 1588 began to publish Vinci’s posthumous works together with his own early compositions. He moved to Palermo before this date, and spent most of his life there; all but three of his extant works were dedicated from Palermo, and Il Verso’s presence may have been an impetus to the rise of music printing there. According to a passage in his own Historia, he was in Piazza in 1600, and between the end of March and the end of July of the same year he was still in Palermo, where he took part in the debate between Achille Falcone and Sebastián Raval as a supporter of Raval. Three books of his madrigals were dedicated from Venice between 1 October 1600 and 10 September 1603. During this period he probably lived in Venice, or at least in northern Italy. He apparently returned to Palermo from Venice before 1 April 1605, since it was left to the Venetian printer Amadino to dedicate the Secondo libro de madrigali a tre voci to Il Verso’s 11-year-old pupil Francesco del Pomo. It was during Il Verso’s absence from Sicily that his death was mistakenly reported; an elegy was then written by his friend Sebastiano Bagolino who died in 1604.

Although Il Verso’s compositions are dedicated to princes, prelates and rich citizens, he does not appear to have held an official appointment; he made his living as a freelance music teacher and composer. As an editor he was responsible for Arcadelt’s Primo libro de madrigali a quattro voci con una gionta di diversi autori (RISM 1592¹⁷), while as a writer and poet he produced the Historia della città di Piazza (now lost) and was evidently acquainted with many literary figures in Palermo. Matteo Donia and Filippo Paruta praised him in Latin epigrams, and the latter wrote for him the dedication of his Duodecimo libro de madrigali a cinque voci. Among his many pupils were Giovanni Battista Calì, Francesco del Pomo, Domenico Campisi, Antonio Formica and, most important, Giuseppe Palazzotto e Tagliavia. A passage in the Historia records events of 1620, and in that year or perhaps in 1621 his last motets were published. On 23 August 1621 the Congregazione dell’Oratorio of Palermo granted him a free burial place in the church of S Ignazio all’Olivella.

Of Il Verso’s 39 music publications, 23 are madrigal books; only Philippe de Monte was more prolific in this area. The starting-point of his secular music is often his teacher Vinci, and at least 20 pieces are setting of texts that Vinci had used. In these instances Il Verso’s compositions are parodies of Vinci’s; the melodic subjects are the same, but the style is very different. Vinci was a classicist, Il Verso a mannerist: his parodies are elaborations full of artifice, every effect is varied and enhanced, the textures are denser, the repetitions more numerous and varied, the harmony full bodied and the music more prolonged (e.g. Passa la nave mia: Vinci, Primo libro, 6vv; Il Verso, Primo libro, 6vv). He turned homophony into contrapuntal displacement (e.g. Lasciatemi morire: Vinci, Primo libro, 6vv; Il Verso, Decimoquinto libro, 5vv) and inserted single notes in the borrowed material to produce suspended dissonances (e.g. Apre le porte il riso: Vinci, Settimo libro, 5vv; Il Verso, Primo libro, 5vv). He applied similar principles in the seven Ricercari a tre of his own that he included in his edition of Vinci’s Secondo libro de’ motetti e ricercari a tre voci (1591^2a), where he remodelled ricercares by his teacher, preserving their structure, key and the distance between the entries, and using the same subjects.

The path from his first book of five-voice madrigals (1590) to his 15th (1619) is a long one, but all his works belong to the ‘first phase’ of the seconda pratica; the melodies articulate the meaning of the text but the harmonic fabric balances polyphonic structure and melodic flow. In his last book of five-part madrigals Il Verso pursued the ideal put forward by Zacconi in Prattica di musica (1592), turning the ‘gracefulness of accent … achieved by the fragmentation and multiplication of the notes’ into an essential feature of his part-writing; each voice proceeds with ease and with rhythmic and melodic flexibility, each has accents and graceful ornaments, and none is given preferential treatment. This reinstatement of the equilibrium of classical five-part polyphony is all the more significant in view of Il Verso’s far-sighted treatment of three-part madrigals, where he adopted the typical 17th-century texture of two high voices and a bass.

Among his preferred texts those by Tasso predominate: in addition to individual items, the missing five-part Libro settimo was entitled I soavissimi ardori after Tasso’s poem, the likewise missing five-part Libro decimoterzo was based on Aminta, and he set six cycles from Gerusalemme liberata in the second and fourth three-part books and the eighth and 15th five-part books. He was also often drawn to Marino (some of whose verses he was the first to set), Petrarch, Vittoria Colonna, Luigi d’Heredia, Livio Celiano, Scipione de Castro and Guido Casoni (the last four being followers of Tasso). The verse of Guarini, on the other hand, he reserved almost exclusively for madrigals in a lighter vein and for villanellas.

Particular to Il Verso is his stylistic variety; he reconciled the most advanced seconda pratica with recovery of the roots of the prima pratica: for example, Il bianco e dolce cigno (Secondo libro, 3vv, 1604) is a parody of Arcadelt’s setting in the modern structure of the Baroque trio. But many of his five- and six-part madrigals too are in the modern style, with limpid texture and articulation and the most audacious harmonic writing. In his sacred works, all published after his stay in Venice, he appears to have been a skilful follower of Giovanni Gabrieli whom he praised in the acknowledgment (‘ai signori organisti musici’) in the organ scoring of the Brevi concerti (1606).

WORKS

Edition:Antonio Il Verso: Opera omnia, ed. P.E. Carapezza and others, MRS, ii–iii, vi–viii (1971–91) [C]

madrigals

Il primo libro de’ madrigali, 5vv (Palermo, 1590); C vii

Il primo libro de’ madrigali, 6vv (Venice, 1594¹⁷); ed. in Grammatico; 1 ed. Carapezza, Studi musicali (1974)

Il terzo libro de madrigali, 5vv (Palermo, 1595), inc.

Madrigali … libro quarto, 5vv (Venice, 1600), inc.

Madrigali … libro secondo, 6vv (Venice, 1601¹⁴), inc.

L’ottavo libro de madrigali, 5vv (Venice, 1603), inc.

Il secondo libro de madrigali, 3vv (Venice, 1605); C viii

Il terzo libro de’ madrigali, 6vv (Palermo, 1607²⁴), inc.

Il primo libro delle villanelle, 3vv (Venice, 1612), inc.

Il quarto libro de madrigali, 3vv, op.35 (Palermo, 1617), inc.

Il decimoquinto libro de’ madrigali, 5vv, op.36 (Palermo, 1619); C viii

11 madrigals, 4, 5, 6vv, 1592¹⁷, 1613¹⁰, 1616¹⁰; 7 in C vi

motets

Mottecta … liber primus, 3–6vv, bc (Palermo, 1606), inc.

Brevi concerti … libro secondo, 1–6, 10, 12vv, bc (Palermo, 1606) [also incl. canzon francese]; 4 ed. in Ignoti

Sacrarum cantionum, 2–4vv, bc, cum dialogo, 6vv, bc, liber quartus (Venice, 1611), inc.

instrumental

Il primo libro della musica, a 2 (Palermo, 1596); C ii

9 ricercares, a 2, 3, 1591^2a, 1605¹⁷; C ii–iii

editions

P. Vinci: Il secondo libro de’ motetti e ricercari, con alcuni ricercari di Antonio Il Verso suo discepolo, 3vv (Venice, 1591^2a); C iii

Di Archadelt il primo libro de madrigali … con una gionta di diversi autori, 4vv (Palermo, 1592¹⁷), inc.

lost works

for complete details see Bianconi (1972) and Carapezza (1978)

[Il secondo libro de madrigali], 5vv (?repr. Venice, 1605)

[Il quinto libro de madrigali], 5vv (printed)

[Il sesto libro de madrigali], 5vv (Venice)

[Il primo libro de madrigali], 3vv (printed)

I soavissimi ardori, settimo libro de madrigali, 5vv (Venice, 1603)

Il nono libro de madrigali, 5vv (Venice, 1605)

[Il decimo libro de madrigali], 5vv (Venice)

L’undecimo libro de madrigali con alcuni romanzi alla spagnola, 5vv (Palermo, 1608)

[Il duodecimo libro de madrigali], 5vv (printed)

Libro decimoterzo de madrigali sopra l’Aminta del Tasso, 5vv (Palermo, 1612)

Il decimoquarto libro de madrigali, 5vv (Palermo, 1612)

[Il terzo libro de madrigali], 3vv (Venice)

[Il quinto libro de madrigali], 3vv (Venice, after 1619)

2 madrigals in Infidi lumi, madrigali di don Luigi d’Heredia, posti in musica da diversi autori ciciliani, 5vv (Palermo, 1603), lost, listed in VogelB

Mottetti, con i responsori di Natale, libro terzo, 2–5, 7, 8vv, bc (Venice)

Mottetti, 2–5vv, bc, con una messa, 4vv, bc, libro quinto (Venice, 1620)

Mottetti, libro sesto, 1–4vv, bc (Venice)

Motets in P. Vinci: Il terzo libro de’ mottetti con alcuni altri di Antonio Il Verso suo discepolo, 5, 6vv, ed. Il Verso (Palermo, 1588)

Il secondo libro della musica, a 2 (Venice)

Intavolatura di leuto e chitarra (Venice, before 1619)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

MischiatiI

PitoniN

F. Paruta: Carmina (MS, I-PLcom 2QqC21, cc.78–9, insertion after c.104)

Antonio Falcone: ‘Relatione del successo seguito in Palermo tra Achille Falcone musico cosentino e Sebastian Ravalle musico spagnolo’, in Achille Falcone: Madrigali a cinque voci (Venice, 1603¹¹)

MS del Fondo S Domenico (I-PLa 570, f.278)

Memorie della Congregazione dell’Oratorio di Palermo (MS, I-PLcom 3QqD2)

G.P. Chiarandà: Piazza, città della Sicilia, antica, nuova, sacra e nobile (Messina, 1654) [incl. extracts from Il Verso’s lost Historia]

A. Mongitore: Bibliotheca Sicula, i (Palermo, 1708/R), 74–5

G.B. Caruso, ed.: Rime degli accademici accesi di Palermo (Palermo, 1726), 177ff

S. Bagolino: Carmina (Palermo, 1782), i, n.291, 338; ii, n.116f, 157, 276 [incl. Il Verso’s Lat. poems]

O. Tiby: I polifonisti siciliani del XVI e XVII secolo (Palermo, 1969)

C. Ignoti: Antonio Il Verso nel tardo rinascimento siciliano: contributo bio-bibliografico con uno studio particolare sui Brevi concerti del 1606 (diss., U. of Palermo, 1971)

L. Bianconi: ‘ Sussidi bibliografici per i musicisti siciliani del Cinque e Seicento’, RIM, vii (1972), 3–38

L. Bianconi: ‘ “Ah, dolente partita”: espressione e artificio’, Studi musicali, iii (1974), 105–30

P.E. Carapezza: Le costituzioni della musica (Palermo, 1974), 38, 80

P.E. Carapezza: ‘“O soave armonia”, classicità, maniera e barocco nella scuola polifonica siciliana’, Studi musicali, iii (1974), 347–90

P.E. Carapezza: ‘The Madrigal in Venice around the year 1600’, Heinrich Schütz und die Musik in Dänemark: Copenhagen 1985, 197–204

P.E. Carapezza: ‘“Quel frutto stramaturo e succoso”: il madrigale napoletano del primo seicento’, La musica a Napoli durante il Seicento: Naples 1985, 17–27

N. Maccavino: ‘ Musica a Caltagirone nel tardo Rinascimento, 1569–1619’, Musica sacra in Sicilia tra Rinascimento e Barocco: Caltagirone 1985, 91–110

P.E. Carapezza: ‘Madrigalisti siciliani’, Nuove effemeridi, no.11 (1990), 97–106

A. Grammatico: Il primo libro dei madrigalia sei voci Antonio Il Verso (diss., U. of Palermo, 1998)

PAOLO EMILIO CARAPEZZA

Imai, Nobuko

(b Tokyo, 18 March 1943). Japanese viola player. She studied at the Tōhō School, Tokyo, with Toshiya Eto and Hideo Saito (1958–65), the Yale Graduate School with David Schwartz and Broadus Erle (1965–6) and the Juilliard School with Walter Trampler (1966–8). She made her US recital début at Carnegie Hall in 1968 and was a member of the Vermeer String Quartet from 1974 to 1979. Her London début was in 1975, in Berlioz's Harold en Italie. In 1980 she took part in the world première of Tippett's Triple Concerto, which she later recorded, and in 1982 performed Walton's Viola Concerto at the Barbican Concert Hall, London, in a live TV broadcast by the BBC to celebrate the composer's 80th birthday. Imai also gave the world première of Takemitsu's concerto A String around Autumn with the Orchestre de Paris in 1989. She has taught at the RNCM (1978–81), the Royal Conservatory, The Hague (1980–85), and the Utrecht Conservatory (1982–5), and in 1985 was appointed professor at the Hochschule für Musik in Detmold. In 1995–6 she organized Hindemith centenary festivals in Tokyo, London and New York, at which all the composer’s music for viola and much of his chamber music was performed. Imai's playing is elegant and her tone rich and mellow, as can be heard on many recordings, including the concertos of Takemitsu, Walton, Pettersson and Schnittke, Harold en Italie, her own viola transcription of Bach’s six solo cello suites and much chamber music. She plays a viola by Andreas Guarneri, dated 1690. (M. Campbell: ‘Going Solo’, The Strad, xcv (1984–5), 349–50)

MARGARET CAMPBELL

Imbault, Jean-Jérôme

(b Paris, 9 March 1753; d Paris,15 April 1832). French violinist and music publisher. As a boy he studied with Pierre Gaviniès; at the age of 17 he made his début in a concerto in which he showed great promise, according to the Mercure de France of 1 April 1770. A performance 11 years later elicited only mild enthusiasm, and the soloist’s ‘noticeable shyness’ was commented on (Mercure de France, April 1781). His later musical activity was for the most part confined to teaching and to participation in the orchestras of various societies (including the Concert Spirituel, the Concert d’Emulation, the Société Académique des Enfants d’Appollon, the Concert Olympique and, in 1810, the imperial chapel), although in these he sometimes performed as leader, and occasionally as soloist.

The music publishing house that Imbault founded operated during its first year in connection with the already established firm of Jean-Georges Sieber (their first joint announcement, in the Journal de la librairie of 2 August 1783, was for Devienne’s Second Flute Concerto). Advertisements for Imbault alone appeared in various journals, beginning in November 1784 with one for J.B. Cartier’s variations op.3 on airs from Grétry’s Richard Coeur de Lion. Until January 1811 Imbault continued to describe himself on title-pages and advertisements as both ‘professeur et éditeur de musique’.

The firm’s considerable output is well documented by a series of catalogues issued between 1786 and about 1803 and by a 284-page thematic catalogue of publications (1791 or 1792). In addition to the opera arrangements and excerpts common to the period Imbault published many works by Haydn, Clementi, G.B. Viotti, Pleyel, Mozart, Boccherini, Gyrowetz, Paul Wranitzky and other respected composers. In 1798 or 1799 he bought the shop of a publisher named Leblanc and from that time the additional location in the ‘péristyle du Théâtre de l’Opéra comique’ (also called the Théâtre Italien or Théâtre Favart) at 461 rue Favart appeared in his address along with the original one, 125 rue St Honoré. Imbault is still listed in the Almanach du commerce de Paris for 1812, with the designation of music seller to ‘their imperial and royal majesties’. On 14 July 1812 Imbault sold the firm to P.H. Janet and Alexandre Cotelle (Janet had earlier served Imbault as agent). Although the successors occupied part of the house for their commerce, Imbault continued to live at 125 rue St Honoré until his death. His bequest to his wife (there were no children) included four houses and valuable shares in the Bank of France.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

DEMF

HopkinsonD

JohanssonFMP[incl. facs. of Imbault catalogues]

La LaurencieEF

Catalogue thématique des ouvrages de musique mis au jour par Imbault (Paris, 1791 or 1792/R)

P. Guiomar: ‘J.J. Imbault’, FAM, xiii (1966), 43–5

C. Pierre: Histoire du Concert spirituel 1725–1790 (Paris, 1975)

R. Benton: ‘J.-J. Imbault (1753–1832), violoniste et éditeur de musique à Paris’, RdM, lxii (1976), 86–103

J. Gribenski: ‘Un métier difficile: éditeur de musique à Paris sous la Révolution’, Le tambour et la harpe [Lyons 1989], ed. J.-R. Julien and J.-R. Mongrédien (Paris, 1991), 21–36, esp. 27–8

RITA BENTON

Imbert, Hugues

(b Moulins-Engilbert, Nièvre, 11 Jan 1842; d Paris, 15 Jan 1905). French music critic and writer. He was educated in Paris and studied music privately. Despite the duties of an official career, he maintained his early friendships with musicians, including Chabrier, d’Indy and Fauré. He began writing on music in 1886 and contributed articles to La musique populaire, La revue illustrée, Grande revue, L’indépendance musicale, L’artiste, La liberté, Revue d’art ancien et moderne, Revue bleue, The Musician and the second edition of Grove’s Dictionary. In 1900 he became chief editor of the Guide musical. He was, with Edouard Schuré, one of the few Parisian advocates of Brahms’s music, and successfully nominated him as a member of the Académie Française.

Imbert’s most important books are the three volumes of Profils (1888–97; Brahms and Tchaikovsky in the first volume and Rubinstein in the third are the only non-French musicians discussed). His writings also include Portraits et études (1894; with articles on Brahms’s German Requiem and Schumann’s Faust), Rembrandt et Richard Wagner (1897), Charles Gounod (1897), Georges Bizet (1899), La symphonie après Beethoven (1900; a reply to Weingartner’s pamphlet), and a final collection of contemporary musical ‘profiles’, Médaillons contemporains (1902). (C. Goubault: La critique musicale dans la presse française de 1870 à 1914, Geneva and Paris, 1984)

WRITINGS

Profils de musiciens, avec une préface par E. Schuré: P. Tschaikowsky, J. Brahms, E. Chabrier, Vincent d’Indy, G. Fauré, C. Saint-Saëns (Paris, 1888)

Symphonie, mélanges de critique littéraire et musicale (Paris, 1891)

Nouveaux profils de musiciens: René de Boisdeffre, Théodore Dubois, Charles Gounod, Augusta Holmès, Edouard Lalo, Ernest Reyer (Paris, 1892)

Etude sur Johannès Brahms, avec le catalogue de ses oeuvres (Paris, 1894)

Portraits et études: César Franck, C.-M. Widor, Edouard Colonne, Jules Garcin, Charles Lamoureux, ‘Faust’ par Robert Schumann, le ‘Requiem’ de Brahms (Paris, 1894)

Charles Gounod: les mémoires d’un artiste et l’autobiographie (Paris, 1897)

Profils d’artistes contemporains: Alexis de Castillon, Paul Lacombe, Charles Lefebvre, Jules Massenet, Antoine Rubinstein, Edouard Schuré (Paris, 1897)

Rembrandt et Richard Wagner: le clair-obscur dans l’art (Paris, 1897)

Georges Bizet (Paris, 1899)

La symphonie après Beethoven, réponse à Félix Weingartner (Paris, 1900)

Médaillons contemporains (Paris, 1902)

ed. E. Schuré: Johannès Brahms: sa vie et son oeuvre (Paris, 1906)

DAVID CHARLTON (text), KAREN HENSON (work-list)

Imboccatura

(It.).

See Embouchure.

Imbrie, Andrew (Welsh)

(b New York, 6 April 1921).American composer. He began piano studies at the age of four with Ann Abajian, and continued with Pauline and Leo Ornstein until 1942. He also studied briefly with Nadia Boulanger (1937) and Robert Casadesus (1941). As an undergraduate at Princeton (BA 1942) he studied composition with Sessions. After serving in the US Army (1944–6), he followed Sessions to the University of California, Berkeley, where he received an MA in 1947 and was in the same year appointed an instructor. He postponed the start of his teaching career, however, to accept a fellowship at the American Academy in Rome (1947–9), to which he later returned as composer-in-residence (1967–8). Returning to Berkeley in 1949, he remained a member of the music department until his retirement in 1991. Highly respected as a teacher and scholar as well as a composer, Imbrie also taught at the San Francisco Conservatory and held distinguished visiting professorships at the University of Alabama, the University of Chicago, and Brandeis, Harvard, Northwestern and New York universities. He also served as composer-in-residence at the Tanglewood Music Center (1991) and the Festival at Sandpoint, Idaho (1989, 1990, 1992, 1993). His many honours include the New York Music Critics’ Award (1944), the Alice M. Ditson Award (1947), two Guggenheim fellowships (1953–4, 1959–60), the Hinrichsen Award of the American Academy of Arts and Letters (1971) and a Citation from the University of California, Berkeley (1991), and commissions from the Koussevitzky (1954), Fromm (1957), Ford (1959, 1974) and Naumburg (1960, 1981) foundations, the New York PO (1977), the San Francisco Opera (1976) and the San Francisco SO (1984). He was elected to the National Institute of Arts and Letters in 1969 and, in 1980, to the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. He has also served as a board member of the Koussevitzky Foundation and as governor of the San Francisco SO (1982–91).

Imbrie’s aesthetic was strongly shaped by his pedagogical encounter with Sessions. Like Sessions, he has remained committed to the principles of classical motivic development, harmonic structure and phrasing throughout his career, despite gradual changes in his musical idiom. His early works sometimes show a stylistic debt to Bartók; works of the late 1950s and early 1960s show a similar debt to Sessions. In these as well as in later works, he aimed to project maximum clarity and dramatic force even in complex, contrapuntal textures, and to mine the full potential of motivic and harmonic transformations particular to each of his compositional ideas. In published articles on Sessions and Beethoven, he has articulated concerns that also inform his compositional work: the construction of long, nuanced musical lines, and the embedding of metrical relationships on different structural levels. The harmonic materials of his work are varied, though usually non-triadic. He has remained flexible and open to a broad range of possibilities, however. In the opera, Angle of Repose, for example, he incorporated bits of banjo music and other North American folk idioms into a predominantly atonal harmonic language. This and other large-scale works for voice and instruments (e.g. Requiem, 1984; Adam, 1994) also demonstrate his interest in the ways in which musical experience may model personal and historical memory. A similar concern inheres in many of his ‘abstract’ instrumental works.

WORKS

operas

Three against Christmas (Christmas in Peebles Town) (comic op, 4 scenes, R. Wincor), 1960, Berkeley, CA, 1 Dec 1964

Angle of Repose (3, O. Hall, after W. Stegner), 1976, San Francisco, 6 Nov 1976

instrumental

Orch: Ballad, D, 1947; Vn Conc., 1954; Little Conc., pf 4 hands, orch, 1956; Legend, 1959; Sym. no.1, 1965; Chbr Sym., 1968; Sym. no.2, 1970; Sym. no.3, 1970; Vc Conc., 1972; Pf Conc. no.1, 1973; Pf Conc. no.2, 1974; Fl Conc., 1977; Pf Conc. no.3, 1992

Chbr and solo inst: Str Qt no.1, 1942; Pf Trio, 1946; Pf Sonata, 1947; Divertimento, fl, bn, tpt, pf trio, 1949; Serenade, fl, va, pf, 1952; Str Qt no.2, 1953; Str Qt no.3, 1957; Impromptu, vn, pf, 1960; Sonata, vc, pf, 1966; Dandelion Wine, ob, cl, str qt, pf, 1967; 3 Sketches, trbn, pf, 1967; Here We Stand, fanfare, double brass ens, 1969; Str Qt no.4, 1969; A Hawk for Peace, fanfare, brass, 1970; To a Traveler, cl, vn, pf, 1971; Fancy for Five, 5 trbn, 1972; Short Story, pf, 1982; Pilgrimage, fl, cl, vn, vc, pf, perc, 1983; Daedalus, pf, 1986; Dream Sequence, fl, ob, cl, vn, va, vc, pf, perc, 1986; Prelude, org, 1987; Str Qt no.5, 1987; Three-piece Suite, hp, pf, 1987; Pf Trio no.2, 1989; Reminiscence, gui, 1992; Earplay Fantasy, fl, cl, vn, vc, pf, perc, 1995; Chicago Bells, vn, pf, 1997; Mukashi Mukashi (Once Upon a Time), 2 pf, 1997; Spring Fever, fl, ob, cl, pf, perc, 2 vn, va, vc, db, 1997; Soliloquy, vn, 1998

vocal

On the Beach at Night (W. Whitman), SATB, str orch, 1949; 3 Songs (R. Frost, E.L. Masters, J.C. Ransom), S, orch, 1949; 2 Christmas Carols, male vv, pf, 1955; Introit, Gradual and Alleluia for All Saints’ Day, chorus, org, 1956; Drum-Taps (cant., Whitman), SATB, orch, 1960; Ps xlii, TBB, org, 1962; Tell Me Where is Fancy Bred (W. Shakespeare), S, cl, gui, 1964; 3 Songs (e.e. cummings, Euripides, T. Roethke), chorus, pf, 1965; [3 songs], 1966: The Wind has blown the rain away, SAB, pf; Love distills desire upon the eyes, SATB, pf; The Serpent, SAB, pf

Let all the World (G. Herbert), anthem, SATB, brass, perc, org, 1971; Let Us Now Sing the Praises of Famous Men, SATB, org, 1977; Prometheus Bound (D. Grene, after Aeschylus), 3 solo vv, chorus, orch, 1979; 5 Roethke Songs, S, pf, 1980; 3 Campion Songs, S, A, T, B, pf, 1981; A Song for St Cecilia’s Day (J. Dryden), SATB, 2 vn, brass, perc, 2 pf, 1981; Requiem: in memoriam John H. Imbrie 1962–1981 (Lat., W. Blake, J. Donne, Herbert), S, SATB, orch, 1984; Adam (cant., late medieval and Amer. Civil War period texts), S, SATB, orch, 1994; Songs of Then and Now (R.L. Stevenson, Cummings, Shakespeare), SA, fl, cl, vn, va, pf, perc, 1998

Recorded interviews in US-NHoh

Principal publishers: Malcolm, Shawnee

BIBLIOGRAPHY

EwenD; VintonD (J.D. Kramer)

M. Boykan: ‘Andrew Imbrie: Third Quartet’, PNM, iii/1 (1964–5), 139–46

E. Soskin: Cadences and Formal Structure in Four American String Quartets (diss., U. of California, Berkeley, 1986)

A.P. Basart: ‘A Three-Dimensional Musical World’, Cum notis variorum, no.131 (1989), 1–4 [interview]

ANN P. BASART/MARTIN BRODY

Īmene.

See Hīmeni. See also Polynesia, §II, 1(i).

Imer, Teresa.

See Cornelys, Theresa.

Imhove, Peter.

See Alamire, Pierre.

Imitation.

In its broadest sense, repetition of the melodic contour of one part by another, often at a different pitch. Usually, in a passage referred to as ‘imitative’, the repeated passages are close enough together for the second part to overlap with significant material in the first, although the term is sometimes used to describe echoing or dialogue-like repetitions among parts (such as those between woodwind and strings in Mozart’s Symphony in G minor k550, first movement, bars 153–64), or examples of Voice-exchange (e.g. between the upper voices of some 12th-century organa tripla and quadrupla). When the material of the succeeding voice follows exactly that of the preceding one for a considerable time, the term ‘canon’ (see Canon (i)) is used; when an entire piece is based on the imitation of a single, fairly concise theme in a strongly tonal context, the terms ‘fugue’ or ‘fugato’ may be used (but see Fugue, §1, for the criteria that must be met before this term is correctly applied). The term ‘imitation’ is now normally reserved for fairly casual instances of the device, particularly in works of an otherwise non-contrapuntal nature.

The procedure of imitation has a long history. It can be found in organa of the Notre Dame school (e.g. Perotinus's Sederunt), in conductus (e.g. Procurans odium) and in motets (S'on me regarde/Prenez en garde/Hé mi enfant) and occasionally it appears to be the central organizational procedure, as in the first Tanquam clausula in I-Fl Plut.29.1, f.47v). The technique was intrinsic to certain medieval forms, such as the Rota (e.g. Sumer is icumen in), the Italian Trecento Caccia and the related French Chace. In the early Renaissance the technique of imitation was only one of many contrapuntal devices, favoured by, for example, Ciconia and Hugo de Lantins, but it became increasingly important after the middle of the 15th century. The generation of Josquin, Compère and Isaac made imitation a basic part of their texture, particularly so-called Paired imitation. By the middle of the 16th century, in the works of Willaert, Clemens non Papa, Gombert and Morales, the technique of ‘through imitation’ (Ger. Durchimitation) had become the main structural principle of composition. Gombert’s Super flumina Babylonis and Palestrina’s Sicut cervus desiderat, for example, consist of successive ‘points of imitation’, each with its own words, the points after the first one usually being dovetailed into the preceding contrapuntal texture. Imitation was an important organizational element in 16th-century instrumental music as well, particularly in forms such as the Capriccio, Ricercare and Canzona that do not derive from dance or theatrical music. The device of imitation (as distinct from canon, fugue and fugato) has retained its currency in musical language as a means of introducing unity, particularly in non-tonal music of the 20th century, or variety in the restatement of a theme, or to produce an effect of psychological intensity.

In theoretical writing, imitation was first mentioned by Ramis de Pareia (Musica practica, 1482), who applied it to both strict and free repetitions of interval progressions. Pietro Aaron (De institutione harmonica, 1516) defined fugue and ‘imitatio’ in a single passage, as though they were interchangeable, but later (Lucidario, 1545) he declared that imitation was an intervallically inexact repetition. Zarlino (Le istitutioni harmoniche, 1558, iii) established imitation as the broader category of composition to which fugue belonged; only if the second entry occurred at perfect intervals (unison, 4th, 5th or octave) was the term ‘fugue’ to be used. Aaron, Zarlino and other 16th-century theorists also used the term ‘imitatio’ for the procedure now called parody (see Parody (i)), and for the aesthetic concept of ‘imitazione della natura’ borrowed from the visual arts (but having relatively little to do with musical imitation). In 1622 Lodovico Zacconi (Prattica di musica, seconda parte, iv) clearly defined imitation as it is now regarded, applying the term to situations in which the leading part is followed only in a general way, and Purcell’s edition of John Playford’s Introduction to the Skill of Music (1694) referred to imitation as ‘a diminutive sort of Fugueing … in some few notes as you find occasion’. Purcell’s definition was corroborated in the final distinction between fugue and imitation drawn by Rameau (Traité d’harmonie, 1722), who recommended that ‘imitation’ be the term for limited, casual and essentially decorative application of the device. Theoretical discussions in the 19th and 20th centuries deal with imitation largely in historical terms, as an important aspect of the compositional procedures of the Renaissance and the Baroque.

See also Counterpoint, esp. §§8 and 9.

SUZANNE G. CUSICK

Imitation mass.

See Parody mass.

IMM.

See Meinl.

Immer, Friedemann

(b Duisburg, 8 April 1948). German trumpeter. He studied first with his father, and later with Freiherr Heinrich von Senden. After briefly turning to medicine, mathematics and physics he studied the trumpet from 1978 to 1984 with Walter Holy at the Hochschule für Musik, Cologne. In 1976 he began to specialize in the Baroque trumpet, an instrument on which he has given numerous performances worldwide and made more than 80 recordings. He has performed Bach’s Second Brandenburg Concerto more than 200 times, and recorded it eight times on period instruments. He was the first to record Haydn’s Trumpet Concerto on a keyed trumpet (1987, under Hogwood). In 1984 he was appointed to teach at the Hochschule für Musik in Cologne, and in 1993 began to teach at the Sweelinck Conservatory in Amsterdam. He founded the Trompeten Consort Friedemann Immer in 1988, and he has also made editions of little-known trumpet repertory.

EDWARD H. TARR

Immerseel, Jos van.

See Van Immerseel, Jos.

Immyns, John

(bap. Aldersgate, London, 26 Feb 1724; d London, 15 April 1764). English amateur musician. ‘In his younger days he was a great beau’, said Hawkins, who is the chief source of information about Immyns. ‘He had been guilty of some indiscretions, which proved an effectual bar to success in his profession, and reduced him to the necessity of becoming a clerk to an attorney in the city’. He cultivated music assiduously, playing the flute, viola da gamba and harpsichord, and had a ‘cracked counter-tenor voice’. As a member of the Academy of Ancient Music, and as a student and copyist to Pepusch, he became familiar with much old music, which he preferred to that of his own day. In 1741 he founded the Madrigal Society, which began as a small group of mechanics and tradesmen experienced in psalmody, meeting at a tavern in Fleet Street. Immyns was ‘both their president and instructor’, and the music was confined to madrigals and other old music, by such composers as Ruffo, Lassus, Marenzio, Vecchi and Gesualdo; the English madrigalists were also explored. Immyns copied seven Palestrina motets for the society's use. From these modest beginnings sprang what is now the oldest musical association in existence.

Immyns's efforts were rewarded by official recognition: in 1752 he was made lutenist to the Chapel Royal, having learnt to play the instrument from Mace's Musick's Monument without any other instruction.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

HawkinsH

J.G. Craufurd: ‘The Madrigal Society’, PRMA, lxxxii (1955–6), 33–46

T. Day: ‘A Renaissance Revival in Eighteenth-Century England’, MQ, lvii (1971), 575–92, esp. 585

NICHOLAS TEMPERLEY

Imperfect cadence [half cadence; half close; semi-cadence]

(Fr. cadence suspendue; Ger. Halbschluss; It. cadenza sospesa).

A Cadence which comes to rest on the dominant; in some American writings, a cadence ending on the tonic in which the penultimate chord is in inversion, or in which the uppermost voice does not sound the tonic in the final chord.

Imperfect consonance.

The Interval of a major or minor 3rd or 6th, or any compound of one of these (10th, 13th etc); the term is contrasted with Perfect consonance.

Impressionism.

A philosophical, aesthetic and polemical term borrowed from late 19th-century French painting. It was first used to mock Monet’s Impression, Sunrise, painted in 1873 and shown in the first of eight Impressionist exhibitions (1874–86), and later to categorize the work of such artists as Manet, Degas, Pissaro, Sisley, Renoir, Cézanne and Regnault. ‘Impressionist’ also describes aspects of Turner, Whistler, the English Pre-Raphaelites and certain American painters, as well as the literary style of Poe and the Goncourt brothers, and the free verse and fluidity of reality in symbolist poetry.

2. Stylistic innovation.

3. Social and political associations.

4. Neo-Impressionism and post-Impressionism.

JANN PASLER

1. Aesthetic and scientific principles.

The word ‘Impressionism’ did not appear in conjunction with a specific musical aesthetic until the 1880s (although it had been used earlier in titles of travel pieces and descriptions of 19th-century programme music). Perhaps referring to the Pièces pittoresques of Chabrier, a friend of the painters and collector of their work, Renoir spoke to Wagner in 1882 of ‘the Impressionists in music’. More importantly for historians, the secretary of the Académie des Beaux Arts used the word in 1887 to attack Debussy’s ‘envoi’ from Rome, Printemps. Besides displaying an exaggerated sense of musical colour, the work called into question the authority of academic values, and so its ‘impressionism’ appeared ‘one of the most dangerous enemies of truth in art’.

Several meanings underlie and accompany this concept, each with its own artistic implications. The oldest and in some ways the most important comes from Hume’s Enquiry concerning Human Understanding (1748), in which he describes an impression as the immediate effect of hearing, seeing or feeling on the mind. The word entered discussions about art in the 1860s just as French positivists, echoing Hume’s concerns and interest in physiopsychology, began their studies of perception. Taine and Littré among others focussed on sensations – the effect that objects make on sense organs – as an important area of empirical research. They believed that impressions (a synonym for sensations) were primordial, the embryos of one’s knowledge of self and the world and, significantly, a product of the interaction between subject and object. Critics saw something similar in contemporary painting, particularly that which reflected a new relationship to nature. Jules-Antoine Castagnary, who in 1874 was the first to dub the painters ‘Impressionists’ observed that ‘they render not the landscape but the sensation produced by the landscape’. Although these painters placed more emphasis on personal, subjective experience than did the positivists, they too believed that any art based on impressions had the capacity to synthesize subject and object. Impressions then were not ends in themselves, but the means to new experiences of reality. Responding to the breakdown of the visual spectrum into what was assumed to be characteristic of unreflective vision, that is the vibrations of colour and light, these artists simplified their palettes by using only colours of the prism, replaced light-and-dark oppositions with a new concept of visual harmony, and created mosaics of distinct rather than blended colours and forms. Critics considered this ‘physiological revolution of the human eye’ an attempt to render visual experiences more alive, and viewers more perceptive of nuances. In 1883 Jules Laforgue, one of the first to see an affinity between Wagner and Impressionist art, compared this kind of vision to aural experiences in which ‘the ear easily analyses harmonics like an auditory prism’. As interest in optics and Charles Henry’s ‘chromatic circle’ of colours grew, the more scientifically minded neo-Impressionists of the late 1880s focussed on the physics of coloured vibrations per se, the role of contrasting colours in the creation of visual harmony, and the effect of the artist’s nervous system on the nature of the impressions.

Similar issues were associated with 19th-century music deemed Impressionist. Critics hailed Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony as the first attempt to ‘paint the sensual world’ in sound even though it followed a long tradition of programme music by composers as different as Janequin, Byrd, Marais, Telemann, Rameau and Gluck who used sound to suggest pictures or the composer’s emotion before nature. Wagner’s nature music, especially the Forest Murmurs from Siegfried and vaporous moments in Parsifal and Tristan, also elicited vague references to musical Impressionism. Palmer argues that although Chabrier ‘lacked the intense preoccupation with personal sensation so characteristic of Debussy’, he was the ‘first to translate the Impressionist theories’ into music, his chiaroscuro-like effects predating those of both Debussy and Delius. However, it was Debussy’s extension of these ideas which had a lasting impact on the future of music. Printemps, an evocation of the ‘slow and arduous birth of things in nature’, parallels not only the painters’ turn to ‘open-air’ subjects, but also their exploration of unusual colours and mosaic-like designs. Debussy extended the orchestral palette with harp harmonics, muted cymbals and a wordless chorus singing with closed lips (later Delius did the same in A Song of the High Hills and Ravel in Daphnis et Chlöé). In Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune and subsequent pieces he increasingly emphasized distinct sound-colours (those produced by individual instruments, rather than the composite ones of chamber or orchestral ensembles). And, like the Impressionist painters and later the symbolist poets, Debussy wanted music not merely to represent nature, but to reflect ‘the mysterious correspondences between Nature and the Imagination’.

Just as contemporary physics informed new ideas about painting, Helmholtz’s acoustics and developments in the spectral analysis of sound fed composers’ interest in musical resonance and the dissolution of form by vibrations. In much of Debussy’s music, as in Impressionist pieces by Delius, Ravel and others, the composer arrests movement on 9th and other added-note chords, not to produce dissonant tension but, as Dukas put it, to ‘make multiple resonances vibrate’. This attention to distant overtones, particularly generated by gong-like lower bass notes, produces a new sense of musical space, in effect giving a greater sense of the physical reality of sound. The wide dynamic and registral range – a complete scale of nuances – can effect subtle vibrations in the listener’s nervous system. In one of his earliest essays (1899), Emile Vuillermoz reiterated concerns expressed earlier by Laforgue about the problems of line and fixed forms. Sounding like a neo-Impressionist, he suggested that ‘the progressive refinement of our nerves [by this music] leads us to think that this is the path of musical progress’.

2. Stylistic innovation.

The second category of meaning associated with Impressionism, also derived from criticism of the early Impressionist painters, relates to the self-conscious individualism of the artists in the original exhibitions, and to what Shiff calls the ‘technique of originality’. Like the concerts of the Société Nationale which began around the same time, Impressionist exhibitions were not unified by style, but started as an attempt by a diverse and complex group of young painters to show their own work independent of the juried Salons. The word ‘Impressionism’ rapidly became generic, referring to the avant garde of the 1870s and 80s, and later even the symbolists with whom the Impressionists shared more than is often acknowledged. What these artists agreed on was the inversion of conventional hierarchies and values, sometimes by means of influences from the distant past and exotic places. Rejecting the use of imposing forms to project grandeur and promote intellectual reflection, Impressionists favoured delicate sensuality, immediacy and the idea of art as an invitation to pleasure. They sought to renew a sense of the mystery of life and the beauty of the world through perception itself, using art to reveal the deep intuitions of the unconscious. Not incidentally they believed that the way images and sounds are produced affects their perception. Instead of working from line to colour, artists like Cézanne conceived painting in terms of colour relationships, line and form being secondary to juxtapositions of colour and light. Neo-Impressionists like Signac and Seurat, by contrast, returned to more conscious thinking about compositional form and applied systematic principles concerning line and colour to elicit specific ‘correspondences’ for emotional states. These preoccupations paved the way for early experiments with anti-naturalistic flat surfaces by post-Impressionists like Matisse.

In music the association between Impressionism and innovation was more short-lived and more narrowly restricted to Debussy and those whose music resembled or was influenced by him. These composers’ attempt to explore the fleeting moment and the mystery of life led them to seek musical equivalents for water, fountains, fog, clouds and the night, and to substitute sequences of major 2nds, unresolved chords and other sound-colours for precise designs, solid, clear forms, and logical developments. To convey a sense of the intangible flux of time, they used extended tremolos and other kinds of ostinatos as well as a variety of rhythmic densities. But, like the painters who stressed not new realities but new perceptions of it, Debussy explained that this music’s ‘unexpected charm’ came not so much from the chords or timbres themselves – already found in the vocabularies of composers such as Field, Chopin, Liszt, Grieg, Franck, Balakirev, Borodin and Wagner – but from their ‘mise en place’, ‘the rigorous choice of what precedes and what follows’. For Debussy form was the result of a succession of colours and rhythms ‘de couleurs et de temps rythmés’ or, as Dukas put it, ‘a series of sensations rather than the deductions of a musical thought’. This concept in turn demanded new approaches to performance. In interpreting Ravel’s Jeux d’eau, the pianist Ricardo Viñes used the pedals liberally when playing fast-moving passages in the high registers ‘to bring out the hazy impression of vibrations in the air’.

Yet to describe Debussy’s aesthetic as Impressionist is not entirely accurate, for his notion of musical line was as neo-Impressionist as it was Impressionist, and his musical innovations owed much to his predecessors. Like the Impressionist painters, who responded to Haussmann’s transformation of Paris and sought to disguise the banality of its forms, Debussy gave the musical line a decorative function. Eschewing conventional melodies, he fragmented themes into short motives and used repetitive figurations resembling those of Liszt and in Russia, The Five. Quickly moving passages wherein overall direction and texture are more audible than individual notes and rhythms give the effect of quasi-improvisation. At other moments in his and other Impressionist music, two kinds of line interact. As in Monet’s and Renoir’s paintings where sketchlike images of people vibrating with the rhythms of nature are juxtaposed with the straight lines of Haussmann’s gardens and avenues or industrial railroads and bridges, sinuous arabesques in this music, liberated from their dependence on functional harmony and sometimes incorporating medieval, whole-tone or pentatonic scales, give a sense of timelessness, of a hypnotic turning in place, while clearly etched tunes focus the listener’s attention. Here, however, the resemblance to Impressionist painting breaks down. While the straight lines of Impressionist painting came from modern life, Debussy’s melodies were often derived from folksongs, as in music by The Five. Reflecting the return of traditional values more characteristic of neo-Impressionist art, they are simple and hark back to earlier times or pastoral settings, often with a nationalist subtext. This is also the case in music imitating or incorporating Spanish popular song (such as that of Ravel, Albéniz, and Falla), or the Celtic traditions of Brittany or western Ireland. The strongly melodic character of Ravel’s music likewise places him outside the purely Impressionist style.

3. Social and political associations.

Two other meanings of Impressionism circulated in the late 19th century. One was an association with women. This came not only from the importance of nature, leisure, sensuality and idealism in the aesthetic, but also from the role painters such as Morisot played in the Impressionist exhibitions. Over time this connotation of the word has been used to discount other meanings, undermining the serious intentions of the aesthetic’s original proponents and their contribution to artistic progress. A less obvious meaning of Impressionism relates to its socio-political implications. Although Impressionist painting was never explicitly political Paul Tucker argues that Alsace and Lorraine were on the minds of Parisians during the first Impressionist exhibition, and that the prevalence of French subjects in the paintings reflected the artists’ patriotism. Castagnary considered their individualist stance a model for French citizens’ emancipation from dogma, essential to the reconstruction of the country after the Franco-Prussian War and the Commune. Although Renoir was the only Impressionist painter who came from the working class, Mallarmé saw the new art as an expression of working-class vision and ideology: its pictorial flatness and simplicity mimicked the popular forms favoured by the rising class of workers. He compared the Impressionists with the Intransigeants, a radical and democratic, anti-monarchist and anarchist wing of the Spanish Federalist party which was feared by the French. This analogy was not unfounded: in 1876, as the Impressionists were growing in importance and winning acceptance for their desire to render all colours (and sounds) legitimate in a perpetually changing universe, a group of Intransigeants in Paris – the radicals – took 36 seats in the Chambre des Députés. Later Laforgue drew a similar comparison between art in which ‘our organs are engaged in a vital struggle’ and society as a ‘symphony of the consciousness of races and individuals’. The neo-Impressionist painters were more overtly political. Signac, a staunch socialist-anarchist, equated artistic and social revolution and hoped that harmony in art, particularly that effected by juxtaposing contrasting colours, would be a model for justice in society.

In more general terms, the gradual acceptance of Impressionist art reflected the desire of the middle class to share in the old aristocracy’s way of life. This gave rise to the popular definition of Impressionism as an aesthetic of ‘dreaming and the far away’, of escape – and not just from academic conventions. Herbert suggests that Impressionist paintings, with their emphasis on leisure activities, were agents of social change in that they encouraged the development of vacation resorts for the middle class and helped prop up the illusions of holiday-seekers. In music too there is a vague sense of a desire for middle-class empowerment in composers’ breakdown of tonal hierarchies, incorporation of distant overtones and expanded notion of consonance. Charpentier, who like Debussy was of working-class origins, was among the few to give voice to working-class values and sensations, but it is his Poèmes mystiques, settings of symbolist poems, more than his opera Louise, that shares in the Impressionist aesthetic. Debussy, by contrast, allied himself with upper-class patrons more than anarchists, and Fleury points out that both he and Delius were more aristocratic than anarchic by nature. Many of Debussy’s innovations reflect an attempt to create a specifically French musical style by appropriating materials from earlier times (medieval organum, 16th-century counterpoint).

After 1904, with increasing attempts to debunk Impressionist values, these socio-political associations became even more blatant, especially as they related to music. Those defending the aesthetic argued that the emphasis on vibrations would bring forth new forms of vitality in listeners and aid in the country’s regeneration and repopulation. Others, focussing on issues of class, countered that the nuanced multiplicity of colours and imprecise forms of Impressionist art and music weakened the perceiver’s sensibility by undermining ‘hierarchical thinking’ and the ‘aristocratic language of lines’. As critics advocated a return to ‘classical order’, ‘the science of composition’ and ‘life’ in all the arts, some redefined Cézanne’s painting and Debussy’s music, shifting emphasis on to their abstract qualities. Debussy’s style too changed after 1904 as melody and counterpoint became more important to him and his musical forms became more complex.

I. Concepts and practices.

4. Neo-Impressionism and post-Impressionism.

It is at this point that one should speak of the emergence of musical post-Impressionism, for in its embrace of line, colour and form from another perspective, and constructions that bring pleasure to the mind as well as the senses, this aesthetic resembles that of post-Impressionist painters like Gauguin and Matisse. Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring perhaps best exemplifies this tendency in music. In one sense it extends the Impressionist notion of sound for its own sake; in another, as Jacques Rivière put it, The Rite rejects the ‘sauce’ of its predecessors’ music, with its language of nuance and transitions, in favour of larger-scale juxtapositions of violent emotions, brutal rhythms, robust colours and a more advanced harmonic language that includes polytonality. Both aspects of post-Impressionism laid the foundation for a Franco-Russian form of modernism. Respighi in Italy, Schmitt and Dukas in France, and Bax and Holst in Great Britain also represent this duality, in different ways. Perhaps only Satie, among French composers of the time, rejected Impressionism completely. With humour and irony he attempted to rid music of its literary and painterly associations, setting the stage for the neo-classicism of the 1920s.

During this period and after Debussy’s death in 1918 a large number and wide variety of composers, some of them falsely called post-Impressionists, continued to use Impressionist techniques, albeit sporadically. Among others, in England there were Delius, Vaughan Williams, Scott, Bridge and Ireland; in France, Koechlin, Aubert, Louis Vuillemin, Ropartz, Roger-Ducasse, Ladmirault, Caplet, Lili Boulanger and later Messiaen; in Hungary, Bartók and Kodály; in Poland, Szymanowski; in Italy, Malipiero and Puccini; and in the USA, Griffes. Even at the Schola Cantorum, a Parisian school which inculcated different ideals, Impressionism made an impact on composers. Roussel, Albéniz and Le Flem reconciled the harmonic freedom and timbral nuances of Impressionist music with the solid construction, linear clarity and rigorous logic demanded by d’Indy and his followers. Ravel, who Landormy claims helped discredit Impressionism through his embrace of classical forms, continued to use Impressionist approaches to harmony and timbre even after his style changed around 1908. For a time the aesthetic even appealed to Schoenberg: although the emotional content of Gurrelieder is Expressionist – meaning that its form and language are subordinated to an inner resonance in the composer – its mystical concept of nature is altogether Impressionist.

Despite the pejorative connotations they have acquired since the 1920s (association with vague lines and structure, a style that lacks vitality), and revisionist notions of Debussy in the 1970s as a symbolist by scholars and as a modernist by composers, the Impressionist and neo-Impressionist aesthetics continue to exercise an important influence on music, especially in French- and English-speaking countries. Other traditions have found it fairly easy to assimilate certain elements of Impressionism because of its formal freedom and openness to non-Western philosophies of sound and music. In jazz Impressionism has permeated the harmonies of Duke Ellington, the orchestral textures of Gil Evans, and the piano styles of Art Tatum and Cecil Taylor. In the film music of Korngold, Herrmann and their followers it has affected audiences’ perceptions of images on the screen. In Japan Takemitsu incorporated elements of Impressionism to infuse his music with Western nuances. In the USA Glass and Reich used simple, repeated Impressionist-like figurations, albeit in the service of another aesthetic, to slow down time in their early minimalist music. More recently a generation of French composers born in the mid-1940s – Grisey, Murail, Dufourt and others – have returned to the Impressionist notion of sound as an object of research. Using the computer to study the nature of timbre with scientific precision, they have also renewed attention to harmony as a factor of timbre, and composed ‘spectral’ music based on contrasts of registers, speeds and intensities. Misunderstanding of the term ‘Impressionism’ has thus never kept musicians from the music itself, and in borrowing from various times, places and cultures, the aesthetic can be seen as a precursor to the cross-culturalism of what is marketed as World beat and other contemporary musics.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

S. Mallarmé: ‘The Impressionists and Edouard Manet’, Art Monthly Review and Photographic Portfolio, (1876), 117–22

E. Vuillermoz: ‘L’impressionisme en musique’, Revue jeune, 24–5 (1899), 1–6

R. Bouyer: ‘Petites notes sans portée. XLVII: “Impressionisme” en musique’, Le ménestrel, lxviii (1902), 156–7

C. Mauclair: ‘La peinture musicienne et la fusion des arts’, Revue bleue (6 Sept 1902)

F. Caussy: ‘Psychologie de l’impressionisme’, Mercure de France (December 1904), 622–47

R. Bouyer: ‘L’impressionisme en musique et le culte de Beethoven’, Revue bleue (3 May 1905)

R. Hamann: Der Impressionismus in Leben und Kunst (Cologne, 1907)

V. Tommasini: ‘Claude Debussy et l’Impressionismo nella musica’ RMI, xiv (1907), 157–67

J.-A. Georges: ‘Claude Debussy et la musique française moderne en Angleterre (1907–08)’, BSIM, v (1909), 262–85

L. Laloy: ‘Claude Debussy et le Debussysme’, BSIM, vi (1910), 507–19

A. Mortier: ‘Le snobisme musicale et la nouvelle école’ [Concerts Rouges; unpubd lecture, c1910–12]

R. Cahn-Speyer: ‘Sull’Impressionismo musicale’, RMI, xx (1913), 145–67

P. Huvelin: ‘Symbolistes et impressionistes’, in J. Bach-Sisley and others: Pour la musique française: douze causeries (Paris, 1917), 299–328 [with preface by C. Debussy]

E. Kroher: Impressionismus in der Musik (Leipzig, 1957)

P. Landormy: ‘Le déclin de l’impressionisme’, ReM, ii (1 February 1921), 97–113

P. Landormy: ‘Debussy est-il un impressioniste?’, Le ménestrel (28 January 1927), 33–5

C. Koechlin: ‘De l’impressionisme chez Debussy’, Monde musical, xxxviii [January] (1927), 91–4

H.-G. Schultz: Musikalischer Impressionismus und impressionistischer Klavierstil (Würzburg, 1938)

D. Schjelderup-Ebbe: A Study of Grieg’s Harmony with Special Reference to his Contributions to Musical Impressionism (thesis, U. of California, Berkeley, 1950)

R. Moser: L’Impressionisme français (Geneva, 1952)

S. Jarocinski: Debussy: a impresjonizm i symbolizm (Kraków, 1966; Eng. trans. [from French] 1976)

L. Nochlin, ed.: Impressionism and Post-Impressionis, 1874–1904: Sources and Documents (Englewood Cliffs, NJ, 1966)

Impressionism in Art and Music, videotape, Insight Media QX212 (New York, 1970)

E. Lockspeiser: Music and Painting (London, 1973)

C. Palmer: Impressionism in Music (London, 1973)

W.-A. Schultz: Die freien formen in der Musik des Expressionismus und Impressionismus (Hamburg, 1974)

E.V. Boyd: Paul Dukas and the Impressionist Milieu: Stylistic Assimilation in Three Orchestral Works (diss. U. of Rochester, 1980)

R. Byrnside: ‘Musical Impressionism: the Early History of the Term’, MQ, lxvi (1980), 522–37

F. Gervais and D. Pistone, eds.: ’L’impressionisme musical, Revue internationale de musique française, no.5 (Geneva, 1981)

P. Tucker: Monet at Argenteuil (New Haven, CT, 1982)

R. Shiff: Cézanne and the End of Impressionism (Chicago, 1984)

The New Painting: Impressionism, 1874–1886, National Gallery of Art, Washington DC 19 Jan – 6 Apr 1986, M.H. de Young Memorial Museum, 19 Apr – 6 July 1986 (Washington DC, 1986) [exhibition catalogue]

R. Herbert: Impressionism: Art, Leisure, and Parisian Society (New Haven, CT, 1988)

J.-B. Barrière, ed: Le timbre, métaphore pour la composition (Paris, 1991)

A.L. Milliman: ‘Teaching Impressionist Music’, Clavier, xxxii/10 (1993), 11–12

H. Dufourt: ‘Oeuvre and History’, Music, Society and Imagination in Contemporary France, Contemporary Music Review, viii (1993), 71–94

M. Fleury: L’impressionisme et la musique (Paris, 1996)

Impressions, the.

American soul vocal group. Formed in Chicago in 1957 as the Roosters, its original members were Jerry Butler (b 1939), Curtis Mayfield, Sam Gooden (b 1942) and the brothers Arthur and Richard Brooks. As the Impressions they made their first recording, For Your Precious Love, which was released on three different labels, selling most copies on Vee-Jay Records in 1958. Fred Cash replaced Butler, who was pursuing a solo career, and having signed for ABC-Paramount the group had a hit with Mayfield's Gypsy Woman (1961). Shortly thereafter the Brooks brothers left and the group continued as a trio. In 1970 Mayfield left, triggering a number of changes in personnel. Gooden and Cash continued to perform into the 1990s.

Led by Mayfield's talent for songwriting, guitar playing and production, the Impressions defined the sound of Chicago soul and achieved much success throughout the 1960s. Their records commonly featured extensive use of falsetto, a combination of clipped rhythm guitar and bright lead guitar, percussive (often pizzicato) strings, metallic timbres from vibraphone or glockenspiel, brass (as opposed to saxophones) and instrumental vamps instead of solos. Through the interplay of their multiple lead vocals, they evoked a sense of community. As earlier songs such as People get ready (1965) and Keep on Pushing (1964) reflected the spirit of the Civil Rights movement, by the end of the decade Mayfield's work showed a more militant stance, notably This is my country and Choice of Colors (both 1968).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

R. Pruter: Chicago Soul (Urbana, IL, 1991)

R. Pruter: Curtis Mayfield and the Impressions: the Anthology (1961–1977), MCA MCAD2-10664 (1992) [disc notes]

ROB BOWMAN

Imprimerie du Conservatoire.

See Magasin de Musique (i).

Impromptu.

A composition for solo instrument, usually the piano, the nature of which may occasionally suggest improvisation, though the name probably derives from the casual way in which the inspiration for such a piece came to the composer. It was apparently first used in 1817 as the title of a piano piece by J.V. Voříšek published in the Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung. A set of six such pieces by Voříšek appeared in 1821; they are modelled on the eclogues of his master Tomášek, and the title ‘Impromptu’ appears to have been suggested by the publisher. H.A. Marschner’s impromptus opp.22–3 appeared in the early 1820s.

Schubert composed his eight impromptus in 1827; the first four, d899, were so named by the publishers, but it is likely that Schubert himself chose the titles of the second set, d935. Only the first of the eight, in C minor, suggests an element of improvisation; the others, particularly the seventh, a set of variations on an original theme in B, are highly organized movements. The form is chiefly a ternary one in which the central episode may be of a stormy and vehement character. The swift figuration and the thematic material of each of Chopin’s four celebrated impromptus are so akin as to suggest that he intended them to form a coherent group – each one after the first to be, so to speak, improvised from, or casually derived from, the material of the previous one. The fourth, op.66 (in fact the first to be composed and possibly deriving from an impromptu of Moscheles), was edited by Julian Fontana, who added the prefix ‘Fantaisie’ to Chopin’s title ‘Impromptu’. The first and ninth of Schumann’s Albumblätter op.124 are impromptus, and his op.5 is a set of impromptus on a theme by Clara Wieck; these are in the nature of variations. Balakirev and Rimsky-Korsakov both used the form in an interesting way: the former composed an impromptu (1907) on two of Chopin’s preludes (those in E minor and B major), a further example of the way in which impromptus tend to use variation technique; the latter wrote a Prelude-Impromptu and Mazurka (1894) for an album commemorating the 25th anniversary of the founding of V.V. Bessel’s publishing firm. Further examples of impromptus can be found in the work of Sterndale Bennett, Skryabin, Fauré, Lennox Berkeley (op.7, 1935) and Roberto Gerhard (1950). Donald Martino’s Fantasies and Impromptu (1980) represents one of the comparatively rare uses of the title by composers in the latter part of the 20th century.

MAURICE J.E. BROWN/R

Improperia

(Lat.).

See Reproaches.

Improvisation.

The creation of a musical work, or the final form of a musical work, as it is being performed. It may involve the work's immediate composition by its performers, or the elaboration or adjustment of an existing framework, or anything in between. To some extent every performance involves elements of improvisation, although its degree varies according to period and place, and to some extent every improvisation rests on a series of conventions or implicit rules. The term ‘extemporization’ is used more or less interchangeably with ‘improvisation’. By its very nature – in that improvisation is essentially evanescent – it is one of the subjects least amenable to historical research.

II. Western art music.

III. Jazz.

BRUNO NETTL (I) ROB C. WEGMAN (II, 1) IMOGENE HORSLEY (II, 2) MICHAEL COLLINS/STEWART A. CARTER (II, 3(i, ii)) MICHAEL COLLINS/GREER GARDEN (II, 3(iii)) MICHAEL COLLINS/ROBERT E. SELETSKY (II, 3(iv–ix)) ROBERT D. LEVIN (II, 4(i)) WILL CRUTCHFIELD (II, 4(ii), 5(ii)) JOHN RINK (II, 5(i)) PAUL GRIFFITHS (II, 6), BARRY KERNFELD (III)

Improvisation

I. Concepts and practices.

In virtually all musical cultures there is music that is improvised. Societies differ, however, in several ways: the degree to which improvisation is distinguished from pre-composition; the nature and extent of the musical material which improvisers use as a point of departure or inspiration; the kinds and amounts of preparation required of improvisers, either in their musical training or in relation to individual performances; the relationship of written to oral transmission; and the relative social and musical value assigned to improvisations, compositions and the musicians who practise them. For further discussion of specific traditions see entries on individual countries.

1. Concepts.

2. Improvisation in musical cultures.

3. Models or points of departure.

4. A sampling of genres.

1. Concepts.

The term ‘improvisation’, in suggesting a failure to plan ahead or making do with whatever means are available, may have negative implications. However, in many of the world’s musical cultures the ability to improvise is often highly valued. In societies such as those of the Middle East and North India the improvised portions of a performance carry the most prestige.

The relationship between pre-composition and improvisation may be intricate. In Karnatak music the formal techniques of both composed songs and improvisations include repetition, variation, melodic sequences and returns to the point of departure. Similarly, in 19th-century European organ improvisation one purpose was to produce well-crafted fugues that might not be distinguishable from the composed canon. Elsewhere composition and improvisation represent opposite ends of the musical spectrum, as in 19th-century piano music where the concept of improvisation, in composed genres such as impromptu and fantasia, was drawn upon to explain or justify departure from formal norms.

One of the typical components of improvisation is that of risk: that is, the need to make musical decisions on the spur of the moment, or moving into unexplored musical territory with the knowledge that some form of melodic, harmonic or ensemble closure will be required. While risk is always present, its character varies greatly. In the improvisation of a fugue the difficulty is in adhering to the predetermined form; in the kalpana svara of Karnatak music it is the juxtaposition of rhythmic patterns that depart from but return to the tāla; in Iranian music it is the maintenance of a balance between quoting memorized material and moving too far beyond it; in South Slavonic epics it is of keeping to a textual line structure while alternating memorized themes with commentary. In most instances audiences evaluate improvisations by their balancing of obligatory features against imaginative departures from them. They also appreciate exceptional virtuosity, either technical or intellectual.

Even in societies in which improvisation is not recognized it may play a role in the conception of music. Some Amerindian music is said to be created in a moment of ecstasy, with a suddenness analogous to improvisation. This is the case in songs learnt in visions or dreams by Amerindian peoples of the North American Plains who say that in the dream the song was sung to them by an animal guardian spirit only once. The visionary, however, rehearses the song before singing it for other humans. In Plains culture this way of composing is contrasted with another, in which someone may sing through the songs they know and will consciously combine sections to create a new work.

The concept of improvisation has also been dealt with variously in the history of Western musical scholarship. In the study of Western music history improvisation has principally attracted scholars interested in historically informed performing practice and was associated with the early music movement of the second half of the 20th century. Earlier it interested music educators who used it to enhance music learning, and it has continued to play a role in music education in Europe and North America. Nevertheless, before the 1970s the field of musicology tended to treat improvisation as a ‘craft’, in contrast to the ‘art’ of composition. Case studies of improvisation began in ethnomusicology in the 1960s, concentrating on three repertories: jazz, Indian art music and Iranian music. To a substantial extent approaches to the study of improvisation in other cultures have been informed by the types of studies suggested by these three repertories. However, since the mid-1970s the distinctions between improvisation and other forms of music-making have been investigated in research that deals with concepts of risk, competence, dealing with unexpected situations and making positive use of mistakes.

2. Improvisation in musical cultures.

The improvising musician may play a special role in a culture’s conceptualization of musicianship. In Western culture the musics that are most dependent on improvisation, such as jazz, have traditionally been regarded as inferior to art music, in which pre-composition is considered paramount. The conception of musics that live in oral traditions as something composed with the use of improvisatory techniques separates them from the higher-standing works that use notation.

By contrast, in West Asian societies improvised music (and music that gives the impression of being improvised) has been the ideal. These cultures associate it with the concept of freedom, with the ability of a musician to make his or her own decisions and with the absence of restriction such as metre. The respect for individual decision-making is extended to evaluating musicians, thus, for example, privileging the learned amateur who needs only to follow his or her own inspiration over the professional who is obliged to perform when and as directed. Improvised genres are regarded as central and composed ones as peripheral. Non-metric genres, which are always improvised, have the highest prestige.

Karnatak musicians are judged both on their knowledge of the repertory of composed songs and by their ability to improvise particularly the unmetred ālāpanam. However, it is the performance of rāgam-tānam-pallavi, the South Indian genre that relies most on improvisation, that is considered the greatest test of a musician’s skill. According to Ki Mantle Hood (1964), in the group improvisations of Javanese gamelan, the performers on those instruments that hold the ensemble together (and thus depart from the model) as well as those that move most from the model, are the most highly esteemed.

Although some degree of improvisation may be said to be present in all musical performance, improvisation should be spoken of only when performances based on a model differ substantially or when a society distinguishes explicitly between the performance of a pre-composed piece and an improvisation on the basis of something given. Thus the many versions of an English folksong can be said to result from a personal interpretation of a local tradition passed on by a particular individual, rather like improvisation. Yet folksingers seemed traditionally to talk more about personal versions than improvisation. The concept of improvisation is readily accepted by the practitioners of West Asian music, although some musicians appear to memorize their improvisations and to perform these personal variants consistently. Japanese musicians ordinarily maintain that there is no improvisation in Japanese music. However, performances of the same piece of shakuhachi music may differ greatly in length and form, and to some extent in content.

Determining the presence or absence of improvisation in a particular culture depends to a great extent on the culture’s own taxonomy of music-making and on its assessing of the relationship between what is memorized or given and the performance. The prominence of improvisation varies greatly from culture to culture. For example, it characterizes the dominant genres in the musical cultures of South and West Asia, in Indonesia and in Africa, whereas in certain other societies it typifies individual, and perhaps exceptional, genres: jazz in the West, sanjo in Korea, the Philippine kulintang ensemble, and sections of the Cantonese opera from China.

3. Models or points of departure.

A common feature of improvised music is a point of departure used as the basis of performance. No improvised performance is totally without stylistic or compositional basis. The number and kinds of obligatory features (referred to here as the ‘model’) vary by culture and genre.

The most prominent model may be that of mode or a modal system. As a model these can be found in South, Central and West Asia, in North Africa and, in a somewhat different form, in Indonesia. In South Asia the predominant model is rāga. The definition of rāga is a subject of much discussion and dispute among South Asian musicians: it may, however, be described as a collection of pitches in a hierarchical relationship, from which are produced sets of typical, and often obligatory, melodic practices, motifs and ornaments. Rāga are the basis of both improvised and pre-composed genres in Hindustani and Karnatak music. In performance each item (either improvised or pre-composed) is ordinarily based on only one rāga. However, improvisations based on a series of rāga, with an emphasis on the elegant transition from one to the next, are occasionally heard.

In West Asian musics, improvisations are based on concepts similar to those of rāga, albeit with significant differences. Known as magām in Arabic traditions, makam in Turkey, mugam in Azerbaijan, makom in Uzbek culture and gushe in Iranian music, the West Asian modes are less complex and subject to fewer explicit requirements than rāga, and they are, in each culture, fewer in number. In contrast to performances of rāga, a West Asian performance makes use of several modes, moving from a principal one to secondary ones and back again.

In the gamelan music of Indonesia a fundamental melody is varied in a different way by each instrument in the ensemble. There is relatively little improvisation in Balinese gamelan, but it is more definitively present in Javanese gamelan music, in a strictly controlled form, as the model comprises the mentioned skeletal melody, of a pathet (‘mode’), and, for each improvising instrument, a specific pace and density.

The numerous musics of sub-Saharan African societies exhibit a great variety of improvisational practices. Prominent among them, in all parts of the continent, is the use of improvised variation. In this a vocal or instrumental soloist repeats a short phrase many times, varying it slightly each time but maintaining a consistent length and rhythmic framework. Similarly, a call-and-response form may consist of a refrain that alternates with a soloist’s variations of a theme. The model for improvisation may also include a set of styles through which the improviser should pass, devoting an unspecified amount of time to each. Percussion ensembles in West Africa may consist of a number of performers, each of whom presents a single repeated rhythmic pattern, while an improvising master drummer selects from these patterns, juxtaposing and interweaving them, using them as the models. The xylophone orchestras of the Chopi of Mozambique and South Africa include the improvisation of simultaneous variations of a theme, in a somewhat similar fashion to the gamelan.

Jazz musicians use a variety of sources for improvisation. ‘Standards’, a repertory of popular songs, often from Broadway musicals or tunes composed specifically by or for jazz musicians, provide not only melodic material but also the (chord) ‘changes’, underlying harmonic progressions which form the basis for improvisations. Ordinarily a small band will play the ‘head’ (tune) in unison before the musicians take it in turns to improvise on it. Recorded solos by other musicians, memorized and sometimes transcribed, may also serve as models for improvisation. A further technique is the inclusion of quotations from other pieces or solos in the improvisation.

European traditional music displays a variety of improvisational techniques. The South Slavonic tradition of epic singing consists of combinations of themes and motifs dealing with the historical deeds of military and royal figures. These are juxtaposed with a small number of melodic lines (and their numerous variations) and with melodic motifs performed solo on an accompanying instrument, the one-string, bowed gusle. The model for improvisation includes textual and musical content, but also stylistic elements. A line of text must consist of ten syllables, with a word boundary between the fourth and fifth. These materials, passed on orally, are then manipulated and varied to provide a performance (sometimes lasting several days) that is improvised but also predictable.

A further example comes from Genoa. There, groups of four to six sailors sing in ensembles in which each member assumes a stylistic and musically functional role, e.g. la donna (a falsetto obbligato) or la guitarra (a vocal imitation of strumming a guitar), the entire structure using simple chord progressions for guidance. It has been argued that most European traditional music repertories consist of tune families, each a body of variants of one parent tune that has been developed through oral transmission with some improvisatory behaviour; explicit improvisation is not common. When it does occur it is found predominantly in southern, eastern and Celtic regions of Europe, and more in instrumental than in vocal music.

By comparison with non-Western and vernacular music, Western art music, in which improvisation plays a small role, uses a number of contrasting models. For example, forms such as fugue and specific themes were and still are occasionally the basis for improvisation by keyboard players. Themes from a concerto movement were the basis for classical cadenza improvisation. The rules and options for the use of a vocabulary of ornaments formed the model in Baroque and early Classical music. In contrast, some of the music of the second half of the 20th century has used non-specific models. A general style or sound provided guidance in improvisatory ensembles. A set of directions for volume and frequency served as the model for John Cage’s Imaginary Landscape no.4 for 12 radios. Here the actual sounds are ‘improvised’ by the natural and cultural environment.

Related to the question of model is the issue of learning improvisation, in which, too, societies differ greatly. South Indian musicians learn a series of exercises intended to help them juxtapose rhythmic and melodic structures with the melodic grammar of rāga. Iranian musicians are told that memorization of the radif, a repertory of 250–300 short pieces, will automatically teach them the techniques of improvisation. Jazz musicians have a variety of learning techniques, including the notation and memorizing of outstanding solos.

4. A sampling of genres.

The genres that follow are characterized by being from art music repertories and are contrasted by the relative prominence of the model, the density of the obligatory features, and what is added creatively by the performer.

The genre of ālāp, jor, jhālā, gat, as played by North Indian instrumentalists like Ravi Shankar, Ali Akbar Khan and Bismillah Khan, is the first genre considered here. A full performance of a rāga consists of two sections. In the first, ālāp, jor, jhālā, the performer explores the rāga without pre-composed material as a model. The first subdivision, ālāp, presents the constituent parts of the rāga without a metrical structure, in what might be termed ‘free rhythm’. It brings in the characteristic motifs of the rāga, moves from the low tonic to the octave and beyond and eventually descends again. The second, jor, introduces a non-metrical pulse, and the third, jhālā, greatly increases the tempo. The second main section, gat, introduces the tāla (rhythmic cycle) and the accompanying tablā. The gat proper is a short composition which, once stated, becomes the basis for further improvisation, now within the constraints of the tāla. Improvisation here may consist of variations on the gat theme alternating with freely composed lines. The tablā may also improvise, and there is quickening of the tempo which leads to a climax ending the performance.

The most elaborate form in Karnatak music is rāgam-tānam-pallavi. This is a predominantly vocal genre but may also be instrumental. In the three sections the performer moves gradually from improvising on a general model (the rāga) to material that is substantially restricted. The first section, rāgam, is akin to the Hindustani ālāp, albeit differing stylistically. This is followed by the tānam (analogous to jor), sung to syllables such as tā nam, ta ka nam, ā nan dam. The model for the rest of the piece, which is now sung in tāla with drum accompaniment, is the pallavi. This is a composed line, often technically difficult, which is followed by niraval (variations on the composition) and svara kalpana (improvised passages which lead back to the given line). These may include techniques such as augmentation, diminution and imitation. The piece is concluded by a restatement of the pallavi. Hindustani and Karnatak genres, including dhrupad and khayāl in the North and South Indian nāgasvaram performances, have models that move from less to more specific forms and from non-metric to metric structures.

Āvāz is the central genre of Iranian art music and, like the South Asian genres, is cast in a complex standard form. Based on the memorized radif, an āvāz uses the material of one dastgāh (modal group). Non-metric (although occasional metrical structures occur), it is intended as vocal music but it is frequently performed on string instruments or flute. Since a dastgāh consists of a number of constituent gushe, each with a characteristic collection of notes and at least one characteristic motif, the performer, in advance or during the performance, selects which gushe will be used and in what order. It is the degree of creative improvisation as against quotation and variation that distinguishes performances and performers. Those gushe that have metre or memorable motifs are less subject to elaborate improvisation than those whose content is melodically and rhythmically less specific. While improvisers are free to select from the available gushe and determine their treatment in performance, there are discernible characteristic patterns.

In performances of the dastgāh Chahārgāh, which has some 15 available gushe, the great majority use only Darāmad, Zābol, Mokhālef and Hesar, most frequently in that order. A large number of gushe that appear in the radif are virtually never used in performance. Several schools of improvisation may be distinguished, including those musicians who believe that an avaz should follow the radif strictly and contain improvisations which are variants of the gushe in the prescribed order, in contrast to others who eschew close adherence to the radif and others who emphasize the mixing of gushe and the elegant transition from one to another.

The most prominent improvisatory genre in the various schools of Arabic and Turkish art music is the taqsīm. Ordinarily non-metric, it is exclusively instrumental and sometimes used as an introductory piece for vocal performances. It is most frequently performed on one of the West Asian lutes (‘ūd, bozuk, tār) or on a flute (nāy). A taqsīm may have a consistent pulse which is relieved occasionally but non-metric cadential formulae. Cast in one principal maqām, a taqsīm ordinarily moves to others built on any of the scale degrees of the primary mode, to which it eventually returns. While an improviser may theoretically move from any maqām to any other, there are, as in Iranian music, clear patterns. A taqsīm in the maqām of Nahawand is likely to move to Rast and Bayati before returning. Other maqāmāt such as ‘Ajam, Hijāz and Sabā appear only occasionally and others rarely or not at all. Geographic regions may be distinguished by improvisatory customs, and individual musicians develop personal styles that are easily recognized.

In the large Javanese gamelan composed melodies are played in slow notes by the saron (bronze metallophone) or sung, while instruments such as gongs mark subdivisions of the metric cycle. The drummer regulates tempo and dynamics. The other instruments such as members of the gender family, the family of bonang (sets of gong-chimes) and the gambang (wooden xylophone) embellish the balungan in various ways, the highest ones providing the greatest density. The rebab (two-string spike fiddle), the melodic leader of the gamelan, and the gender barung (bronze metallophone with resonators) play the main improvising roles. In this complex set of interactions the improvisation may be compared to the performance of a set of variations on a theme, rendered simultaneously.

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Improvisation

II. Western art music.

2. History to 1600.

3. The Baroque period.

4. The Classical period.

5. The 19th century.

6. The 20th century.

1. Introduction.

The concept of improvisation has been current in the West since the late 15th century to designate any type, or aspect, of musical performance that is not expressive of the concept of the fixed musical work. Its precise definition depends on the stability and perceived identity of the ‘fixed musical work’, which varies widely according to musical culture and historical period (see Composition). If the performance is of a work in the form of a notated composition, ‘improvisation’ tends to refer to departures from the text that would have been notationally available but were not actually written out, often for reasons of notational economy, and which rely on the existence of well-known, implied conventions of performance (such improvisations may therefore be recognized by the composer – perhaps within limits – as well as the performer as essential to the complete performance of the work). This definition normally excludes choices of tempo, but does include ornamentation and other kinds of melodic elaboration, as well as cadenzas in solo concertos. Looser definitions of the fixed musical work tend to allow much greater scope for improvisation. This is true of memorized harmonic schemes, as in 16th-century dance music or in jazz. Such schemes are usually identified by the performers as ‘pieces’ and may circulate under popular titles, even though the actual performances may obscure the identity almost beyond audible recognition. Even in musical cultures where there is no actual concept of the ‘musical work’, there may still be some perception of musical identity between one performance and the next, in terms of which ‘improvisation’ may also be identified. Typically, the definition of musical identity depends on the nature of the notational system or on methods of memorization; often it embraces versions that would be heard as different by Western listeners.

Musical traditions that do not rely on a strong conception of the fixed musical work tend not to have a concept of ‘improvisation’, but rather qualify performances in terms of a musical idiom or a set of performative conventions. For instance, polyphonic improvisation over plainchant melodies was designated as discant or contrapunctus throughout the late Middle Ages, until the conceptualization of the musical work (Res facta) in the late 15th century necessitated the identification of ‘singing on the book’ (cantare super librum) or ‘counterpoint made in the mind’ (and, in the 16th century, such terms as Sortisatio and singing ex tempore, subita, abrupta, improvisa, repente, alla mente). In such cases it may be inappropriate to speak of ‘improvisation’ as though it described the objective state of affairs in that musical tradition, and scholars often prefer to use terms less obviously premised on modern ‘work’ concepts (for instance ‘oral’ or ‘idiomatic’). As this example suggests, since the 15th century the Western classical music tradition has developed an acute sense of what constitutes improvisation, though musicologists have become increasingly circumspect about projecting that sense on non-Western or popular musical traditions, or remote historical periods. It is now considered essential for historical and ethnographic research to make explicit whether the concept of ‘improvisation’ is being applied as an ‘emic’ (from within the culture) or an ‘etic’ (from the ‘outsider's’ point of view) concept.

This distinction is important also for another reason. Once the written – improvised distinction had become identified in the West, it allowed two interesting permutations to emerge: compositions written in the style of improvisations, and improvisations shaped with the distinguishing properties of musical works. In such cases, to insist on an etic, technical definition of improvisation – involving the absence of, or departures during performance from the texts of, written or memorized works – would be to overlook compositions that, although written, do shed light on the emic understanding of improvisatory style. One such piece, for example, is Josquin's motet Stabat mater which, according to Joachim Thuringus (Opusculum bipartitum de primordiis musicis, 2/1625), was fashioned ‘in imitation of sortisatio’, and is indeed virtually unique having a cantus firmus without rests, an essential feature of polyphonic improvisations. A composition like this is conceptually quite different from the many earlier compositions that were indistinguishable from improvised discant simply because they implied no distinction to begin with (an obvious example being the discant settings in the Old Hall choirbook). The same may be true of such improvisatory keyboard genres as the 16th-century fantasia and ricercare, of the 19th-century prelude and rhapsody. Conversely, the purpose of improvised fugues, variations, and fantasias on given material, in the 18th century, was surely that listeners should evaluate the performer's skill on the terms of written compositions. In this sense, improvisation and composition can also be viewed, over and above the strictly technical distinction between them, as musical styles distinguished by the degree to which they give the appearance of performative spontaneity or authorial planning. (This distinction is essential, for instance, to any understanding of the history of piano music in the early 19th century.)

For information about particular aspects of improvisation see Aleatory; Cadenza; Continuo; Division; Jazz; Notation; Ornaments; Performing practice; Prélude non mesuré; and Singing.

(i) Ensemble improvisation.

2. History to 1600.

After the breakdown of Greco-Roman civilization, music in western Europe was preserved by rote memory, and new music was presumably worked out in performance or created spontaneously in improvisation. Since our knowledge of this music is limited to traditional liturgical chants written down in imprecise notation long after they were created, it is difficult to draw concrete conclusions about any improvisatory techniques used in their creation. The most reliable extant evidence relates to the spontaneous improvisation of the Jubilus, a melismatic flourish found on the last syllable of certain alleluias preserved in the early Christian liturgy. Clear references to this type of improvisation appear in the writings of the early Christian Fathers. St Augustine (354–430) described this jubilus as the musical outpouring of ‘a certain sense of joy without words … the expression of a mind poured forth in joy’. In its melismatic, virtuoso style it is not unlike the vocal cadenza added centuries later at the cadence of a Baroque aria.

A second, more controlled, improvisatory technique is hinted at in the structure of a number of surviving chant melodies. The chants in a particular mode, such as the Dorian, often use the same, or a similar, vocabulary of melodic motifs. This is taken as indicating an improvisatory practice in which the modes, like the rāga of India, included thematic materials as well as a roster of notes in their identities.

(ii) Ornamentation.

(iii) Improvisation on ‘perfect instruments’.

Improvisation, §II, 2: Western art music: History to 1600

(i) Ensemble improvisation.

Although melodic improvisation remained a factor in Western culture, it is indicative of its later development that the earliest substantial information about improvisation appears in treatises instructing the singer how to add another line to a liturgical chant as it was being performed. This is no doubt due to the fact that, although this early organum may have been derived from folk practice, the problem of improvising a melody to fit with a given chant required a technical knowledge of vertical consonance and dissonance and of the melodic materials available in the diatonic system. Furthermore, while at first the improvising singer may have relied on his memory of the chant to which he was adding a counter-melody, the improvisers eventually saw this chant in some sort of visual notation so that they could anticipate its notes. Thus the first manuals on improvisation are those concerned with the beginning of contrapuntal theory and practice and with the development of mensural staff notation.

Starting in the 9th century with the anonymous Musica enchiriadis and Scolica enchiriadis, which tell how to double a chant at the perfect intervals and to make oblique motion at the beginning and end of the chant, there was a steady growth and refining of the technique of organum. By the 11th century, when Guido of Arezzo described in his Micrologus the use of contrary motion and of rudimentary cadence formulae, there are also, in one of the Winchester tropers, a number of two-voice organa written down in staffless neumes that apparently use these same devices. From this time on, many written-down organa are found outside theoretical treatises, but the precise relation of these to improvised style is not defined. Two- and three-voice organa which introduce the use of several notes against one in the cantus firmus, such as those found in 12th-century manuscripts at St Martial, Limoges, and Santiago de Compostela, have the appearance of written-down improvisations, and it is unlikely that a composition was yet worked out by writing it down. Musical forms of the 13th century – discant, organum, motet etc. – were created by adding one line at a time to a previously worked-out melody, each of the added lines agreeing with this melody but not necessarily with each other. The interrelation of the parts was the same as when two singers improvised on a cantus firmus. By the 14th century, when a precise visual notation for music was established, complex structures, such as the isorhythmic motet, that could be worked out only by being written down, had also developed. Thenceforward the dependence on notation for composing music as well as for preserving it became one of the distinguishing features of Western musical culture, and in due course composed music, precisely notated, became the primary basis for performance.

Improvised music, however, remained an important element in art music for several centuries, and the interaction of the two types was fruitful. A well-known instance of the influence of improvised style on composed music is the introduction of the fauxbourdon style into the music of Burgundian composers, such as Du Fay and Binchois, in the 15th century. In Britain in the late 14th and early 15th centuries, the practice of improvising above a ‘sighted’ chant took the forms of parallel 3rds (gymel) and parallel 3rds and 6ths together (English discant). Although scholars still differ as to the exact historical process and the meanings of certain terms, the musical effect of these techniques on styles of composition is clear. In Britain this resulted in compositions that were structurally based on a series of 3rds or 6-3 chords that were freely ornamented and sometimes interspersed with other combinations of intervals. In Burgundian music, sections of parallel 6-3 chords (fauxbourdon) are inserted into the common styles and are found frequently at cadence points.

It was also in the 15th century that theorists of counterpoint first made a distinction between improvised and written-down styles. In 1412 Prosdocimus de Beldemandis simply mentioned the existence of two types of counterpoint – the ‘sung’ or ‘performed’ and the written – but in 1477 Tinctoris clearly spelt out the difference between the two in his Liber de arte contrapuncti. Because each improviser could make his line agree with the cantus firmus alone, dissonances and awkward part-writing could not be avoided. Moreover, an improvised piece was looser in construction, whereas the composer could order such features as cadences and rhythmic motion, thus producing a finished work (res facta) with a distinctive character.

The difference between the two styles became even greater in the 16th century, when composition on a cantus firmus became less a normative and more a specialized technique. Composed works appeared in a number of new styles and forms, while singers still improvised over a cantus firmus in long notes, often repeating a single figure as long as it fitted. At this period, improvisation was widely practised in Italian churches, where it was normally used over the chants of the introits in the Proper of the Mass, as well as over the hymns, antiphons and graduals. Since motets and the Ordinary of the Mass were set as artfully worked-out compositions, listeners will have apprehended two distinct usages.

It was not until 1553, when Vicente Lusitano’s Introdutione facilissima was published, that a methodical procedure for learning to improvise on a cantus firmus was made available. His ‘secrets’ seem very simple, as he was presenting a basic method by which the technique could be learnt; it may well have been based on his own way of improvising. He first gave a number of mechanical patterns in long notes that fit over the different intervals found in plainchant, such as those in ex.1a, where the syncopated line makes a series of 3rds, 5ths and 6ths over a succession of horizontal 3rds in the cantus firmus. Once the basic pattern was learnt, the singer could fill in the long notes with florid passages. Lusitano also included a number of single melodies in florid counterpoint above a cantus firmus (ex.1b). This exemplifies another of his suggestions: if a passage will fit more than once, the singer should continue to use it. He gave a number of florid examples above the same cantus firmus, and when two of these are combined, as they would be in performance, a number of dissonances and parallel 5ths appear between them.

Two years after Lusitano’s treatise appeared, Nicola Vicentino, in L’antica musica ridotta alla moderna prattica, condemned these devices as old-fashioned and recommended more modern ways, such as having the imitating voices imitate each other rather than the cantus firmus. Zarlino, in the third edition of his Istitutioni harmoniche (1573), gave, for the first time, instructions for more sophisticated devices, such as the improvisation of strict two-voice canons on a cantus firmus and two- and three-part canons without a cantus firmus. These techniques signalled a great change in improvised counterpoint. Both require more technical skill on the part of the performers. The leading singer must know all the possible combinations at specific times over precise pitches, and those following him must have good ears and memories. But this kind of planning also makes correct part-writing and dissonance treatment possible in improvisation. Zarlino also introduced rules for creating invertible counterpoint and for adding a third part in the performance of an already composed duet. During the last quarter of the 16th century his successors expanded the possibilities inherent in these new devices and also continued with the old. The art of improvised vocal counterpoint came to a final climax among the theorists and practitioners of counterpoint in the prima pratica style.

Although there are many early visual and literary references to instrumental ensemble music, no direct discussion of improvisation by instrumental groups has been found. We can only surmise that when contrapuntal – as opposed to heterophonic – improvisation took place in instrumental performance it was by players who had been trained in the vocal practice of improvising on a cantus firmus. The first sure evidence of such a practice is in the improvisation of the music for the bassadanza and saltarello danced in 15th-century Italy. Surviving collections of bassadanza tenors in long notes, along with pictures showing two high instruments presumably improvising on a tenor played by a sackbut, indicate that the music accompanying these dances may well have been produced by just such an improvising group. Later compositions on one of these bassadanza tenors, La Spagna, in which the tenor in long, even notes is accompanied by florid melodies in the upper parts, add weight to this conclusion.

It is significant too that the only book in this period giving examples of ensemble improvisation (for violone and harpsichord), Diego Ortiz’s Trattado de glosas (1553), still used the old La Spagna tenor when illustrating the technique of improvising on a cantus firmus. The beginning of one such improvisation (ex.2a), when contrasted with another (ex.2b) from the same book, shows the archaic nature of this improvisation. The one shown in ex.2b has a 16th-century Italian dance bass, which acts as a series of roots for triads, and the improvised melody is shaped by the notes of each chord and is organized motivically. The bass also gives the rhythm of the dance and is organized in phrases that are multiples of four bars. It is also short and is repeated several times, showing a series of improvised variations – a form and style that were to be used in improvisation for several centuries to come.

Improvisation, §II, 2: Western art music: History to 1600

(ii) Ornamentation.

A less difficult type of ensemble improvisation occurred in the 16th century when florid passages were added to a single line of a composed work while it was being performed. These ornaments were called diminutions, since they reduced the longer notes of a piece into a number of shorter notes; this practice was also referred to as the ‘breaking’ of a melodic line. Skill in diminutions belonged to the performer rather than to the improvising composer, and it required little theoretical knowledge, since the performer needed only to fit florid patterns into the longer notes of an already composed piece. More care had to be taken by the singer or instrumentalist who embellished the single line of a polyphonic work of which he saw only his own part than by the organist who had a complete work under his control, but the procedures taught by the various published manuals on diminution were designed to help him avoid these difficulties. There were lists of the numerous melodic patterns that fitted into each melodic interval and note length commonly found in music of the time, and these patterns could be transferred directly to the melodic line that the soloist wished to ornament.

Three general procedures were followed in creating these embellishments. The simplest was to have the substitute passage begin and end on the pitch of the notes being ornamented and then move immediately to the next note in the melody, a procedure shown in ex.3a. This was considered the safest, for it preserved the original contrapuntal movement of the work. The second way, shown in ex.3b, was to start on the original note but, instead of ending on it, to move on and arrive at the next note by conjunct motion. Although this way might produce contrapuntal errors such as unauthorized dissonances or parallel 5ths, it was assumed that they would not be noticed by the listener because the notes were so short. The third manner was simply to be freer, perhaps encompassing a longer segment of the original line in the embellishment or replacing one of the main melodic notes with a pattern not touching on it. While it was not approved, this technique can be seen in the ornamented works that are given in the diminution manuals; it often involved motivic or sequential patterns, as seen in ex.3c. It could be successful, however, only if the performer knew what was going on in the other parts.

This type of improvised ornamentation was usually applied to only one voice of a polyphonic work, but when a madrigal or motet was performed by soloists, each improvising diminutions on his part, care was taken to agree in advance the order in which they would add ornaments, to avoid contrapuntal confusion and dissonant clashes that might result from simultaneous ornamentation. Care was also taken by the performer of the bass part not to let his ornaments go above the tenor part and to limit his embellishments, so that the overall structure of the supporting bass line was retained throughout.

The first manual teaching the art of improvising diminutions for a solo singer or wind or string player in ensemble performances of polyphonic works was the Fontegara of Sylvestro di Ganassi, published in Venice in 1535. It is believed, however, that this practice must have appeared early in the development of polyphonic music, since the earliest known keyboard tablature, the Robertsbridge Codex (GB-Lbl Add.28550, c1360), contains elaborately ornamented versions of contemporary motets, and it is generally considered that the published manuals of the 16th century were a late attempt to codify and make available to all musicians the ‘secrets’ of this technique.

Improvised diminutions had a definite influence on composed music, for they introduced elements into the performance of Renaissance music that became an integral part of Baroque style. The ornamentation of a single line of a polyphonic work by a solo instrument while the entire work was played on a keyboard instrument, as seen in the second book of Ortiz’s Trattado de glosas, anticipated the solo instrumental writing of the early Baroque period. In the same manner, the ornamented cantus parts of frottolas such as the anonymous Aime sospiri printed in Petrucci’s sixth book of frottolas (1506), and the embellished top voices of selected four-part madrigals by Rore included in Girolamo dalla Casa’s Il vero modo di diminuir (1584), which were sung while the other parts were played on the lute, were forerunners of early 17th-century monody.

Improvisation, §II, 2: Western art music: History to 1600

(iii) Improvisation on ‘perfect instruments’.

For the Renaissance musician, the ‘perfect instrument’ was one such as the organ or lute, on which a single performer could play all the parts of a polyphonic composition. Starting with the Robertsbridge Codex and the Faenza Codex (I-FZc 117, c1400), elaborately ornamented versions of polyphonic motets and secular works appeared as a constant part of the repertory and can doubtless be seen as written-down examples of a common improvisatory procedure. Highly embellished intabulations of polyphonic vocal works continued to appear in keyboard manuscripts into the 16th century, when, with the development of music printing, a great many such arrangements for lute and vihuela, as well as for keyboard, were published. From the 14th century on, keyboard tablatures also included sacred chants and secular songs used as cantus firmi with florid countermelodies. The fact that a number of 15th-century manuscripts, such as the Fundamentum organisandi (1452) of Conrad Paumann, give practical instructions for adding keyboard-style countermelodies to fit with the intervals commonly found in such pre-existing melodies tends to confirm that contrapuntal improvisation on a chant in church or on a popular song in secular music-making was a common practice with the professional keyboard virtuoso. While these techniques were still important in 16th-century keyboard improvisation, the gradual abandonment of the central cantus firmus and the use of free forms based on fugal imitation in vocal music are reflected in the inclusion of canonic and fugal devices in Hans Buchner’s Fundamentum (c1520) and the Arte de tañer fantasía (1565) of Tomás de Santa María.

A new form, the set of variations on a popular tune or dance bass already familiar to the listener, also became a major element in improvisatory practice in the 16th century. These variations used both the older technique of cantus firmus and the new one mentioned above (see ex.2b), which has a set of chords as the ‘theme’. In some cases both the melody and the harmony of a popular song form the basis of a set of variations. This practice is paralleled in vocal music, where poet-composers, and less sophisticated figures too, improvised both words in fixed forms such as terza rima and ottavas, and vocal embellishments, over standard melodies, such as the romanesca and Ruggiero, and their attendant harmonies.

A special genre associated with the keyboard was the prelude or intonation, a free improvisation meant to establish the mode for a vocal or instrumental piece that followed it. The earliest written-out examples of this type are found in the keyboard tablature of Adam Ileborgh (1448). This genre was characterized from the beginning by idiomatic virtuosity, rhythmic freedom and loose thematic construction – features that listeners have always considered the true hallmarks of extemporaneous improvisation.

The line between improvising and composing was less clearly drawn in solo improvising because here the player normally had his own repertory, playing from memory, improvising and often changing his compositions and re-using materials from earlier improvisations. The fact that there were so many famous keyboard composers was no doubt due to this practice. The large number of collections of printed works for keyboard, lute and similar instruments in the 16th century, bringing music from the repertory and inventions of the professional performer into the hands of the amateur, led to a great change. The works of the professional virtuoso, whether devised through his own improvisations, worked out on his instrument in playing or first created in written notation, became in published form the repertory for the amateur, and improvisation became associated with the professional virtuoso.

(i) Early 17th-century Italian practice.

3. The Baroque period.

(ii) 17th-century English practice.

(iii) French practice.

(iv) Later italianate embellishments.

(v) Varied reprises.

(vi) Melodic variations.

(vii) Cadenzas.

(viii) Continuo realization.

(ix) Complete pieces.

Improvisation, §II, 3: Western art music: Baroque period

(i) Early 17th-century Italian practice.

All the modes of improvisation practised in Italy during the Renaissance continued into the early Baroque. The two principal types were the embellishment of an existing part and the creation of an entirely new part or parts. Though fundamentally different in theory, the two types are not always separable in practice.

Important modifications were introduced to the practice of improvised embellishment. Composers, perhaps from a greater concern for the text, began to exercise more control over ornamentation, in two ways: by writing out embellishments in some instances, and by introducing symbols or abbreviations for some ornamental patterns. The written-out embellishments in ‘Possente spirto’, the great aria in Act 3 of Monteverdi’s Orfeo – the words of which are, significantly, in terza rima – represent an extreme example, now in early Baroque style, of the type of embellishment earlier improvised by poet-musicians and referred to in §2(iii) above. Stylistic modifications of the old, melodically orientated embellishment occurred about 1600 through the establishment of a true basso continuo and as a consequence too of the new emphasis on emotional qualities in singing. The basso continuo, with its firm bass line and improvised chords, emphasized vertical rather than linear aspects, and embellishment gradually attained more harmonic implications, adding the spice of dissonance to the written notes. The new emotional style in vocal music caused two modifications in the melodic lines: the smoothly flowing notes of 16th-century passaggi were sometimes alternately dotted to form either trochaic or iambic figures that might emphasize sobbing or sighing qualities; and a new vocabulary of short embellishments was invented for use on notes sung to the accented syllables of emotive words in the text. The new style of embellishment is first seen in G.B. Bovicelli’s Regole, passaggi di musica (1594), but the aforementioned modifications came about largely through the influence of the Florentine Camerata and its insistence on correct and emotive declamation of the text. Passaggi were for the most part relegated to penultimate syllables of verses, where they did not obscure the meaning of the words; they can thus be seen as early forerunners of the later cadenza.

The preface to Caccini’s Le nuove musiche (1601/2), the most celebrated expression of the passionate attitude of the men who invented the new style, contains much discussion of vocal embellishments. Some of these are illustrated in ex.4: Caccini’s cadential trillo and gruppo are shown in ex.4a, and the early Baroque preference for dotted figures is seen in his illustrations of the desirable way of performing the phrases shown in ex.4b. That the embellishment of penultimate (and sometimes other) syllables often reached cadenza-like proportions is demonstrated in several songs in Le nuove musiche, notably Fortunato augellino, and in those of other Italian monodists of the period.

Le nuove musiche also contains the only surviving portions of Caccini’s opera Il rapimento di Cefalo (1600), one of which, the concluding chorus, is shown with embellished solo interpolations. In his accompanying remarks Caccini reiterates his position regarding the liberties that may be taken with the rules of counterpoint in making passaggi. The ornamented solos bear the names of three of the greatest singers of the age, Melchior Palantrotti, Jacopo Peri and Francesco Rasi. While Caccini apparently wrote all the embellishments printed here, according to the rubrics, Palantrotti sang them as written, Peri substituted ‘different passaggi, according to his own style’ and Rasi sang ‘some of the passaggi as given and some according to his own taste’ (trans. H.W. Hitchcock, RRMBE, ix, 1970).

The new kinds of embellishment became known in due course in Germany, where descriptions are found in such works as Syntagma musicum, iii (1618) by Michael Praetorius and Musica moderna prattica (1653) by J.A. Herbst. In addition to the intonatio, exlamatio, trillo and gruppo, discussed by Caccini, Praetorius illustrates the tremulo (in two forms, ascendens and descendens; ex.5a and ex.5b) and the tirata (ex.5c) and also provides numerous illustrations of the accentus, applied to various intervals. Four examples of the accentus, as applied to the ascending 2nd, are shown in ex.5d.

Agostino Agazzari (Del sonare sopra ’l basso, 1607) discussed the role of instruments in concerted music, classifying instruments in two groups, those of foundation and those of ornament. He counselled restraint, decorum and the judicious enhancement of the written notes and outlined the roles appropriate to the various instruments (translation from StrunkSR1):

He who plays the lute … must play it nobly, with much invention and variety, not as is done by those who, because they have a ready hand, do nothing but play runs and make divisions from beginning to end, especially when playing with other instruments which do the same, in all of which nothing is heard but babel and confusion, displeasing and disagreeable to the listener. Sometimes, therefore, he must use gentle strokes and repercussions, sometimes slow passages, sometimes rapid and repeated ones, sometimes something played on the bass strings, sometimes beautiful vyings and conceits, repeating and bringing out these figures at different pitches and in different places; he must, in short, so weave the voices together with long groups, trills, and accents, each in its turn, that he gives grace to the consort and enjoyment and delight to the listeners, judiciously preventing these embellishments from conflicting with one another and allowing time to each. … The violin requires beautiful passages, distinct and long, with playful figures and little echoes and imitations repeated in several places, passionate accents, mute strokes of the bow, groups, trills, etc. The violone, as lowest part, proceeds with gravity, supporting the harmony of the other parts with soft resonance, dwelling as much as possible on the heavier strings, frequently touching the lowest ones. The theorbo, with its full and gentle consonances, reinforces the melody greatly, restriking and lightly passing over the bass strings, its special excellence, with trills and mute accents played with the left hand. The arpa doppia, which is everywhere useful, as much so in the soprano as in the bass, explores its entire range with gentle plucked notes, echoes of the two hands, trills, etc.; in short, it aims at good counterpoint. The cithern, whether the common cither or the ceterone, is used with the other instruments in a playful way, making counterpoints upon the part. But all this must be done prudently; if the instruments are alone in the consort, they must lead it and do everything; if they play in company, each must regard the other, giving it room and not conflicting with it; if there are many, they must each await their turn and not, chirping all at once like sparrows, try to shout one another down.

Agazzari’s advice is applicable in a variety of musical contexts, but it has particular relevance for the theatre. In early Italian operas, instrumental ritornellos and sinfonias are frequently indicated, but sometimes written either in skeletal form (bass line alone, or bass with treble) or not at all. Luigi Rossi’s Il palazzo incantato (1642) begins with a sinfonia, for which only a bass line is given. Cavalli’s Didone (1641) at one point has the rubric ‘all the instruments enter’, although no parts are written, and at another point, ‘aria with all the instruments’, accompanied by continuo only. There are many instances in operas of the Contarini Collection (I-Vnm) in which a dance is indicated in the score, but no music is supplied; in other cases a bass line only is given (Rose, 1965). The passacaglia seems to have originated as an improvised ritornello in theatrical productions (Hudson, 1981).

The quotation from Agazzari demonstrates a close affinity between improvisation over a cantus firmus and realization of a basso continuo. The continuo part replaced the cantus firmus, and the improvised parts became more harmonically based, partly because of the harmonic implications of the bass line itself.

For organists, improvisation was a functional task as much as an artistic one. During Mass or services of the Office, organists improvised versets over liturgical cantus firmi, in alternation with the choir. This practice has clear relationships to basso continuo technique, and in fact some of Banchieri’s organ basses in L’organo suonarino (3/1622) contain occasional thoroughbass figures. Frescobaldi’s organ masses offer some indication of the function of improvised music within the mass (e.g. Tocata per le levatione). Improvised toccatas, preludes and intonazioni frequently served to establish the mode or pitch (or both) for the singers. Some of the earliest keyboard toccatas (by Andrea Gabrieli, Merulo and others) are based on psalm tone cantus firmi, and undoubtedly reflect improvisatory origins (Bradshaw, 1972). Maugars wrote of Frescobaldi that while ‘his printed works render sufficient evidence of his skill, to judge his profound knowledge adequately you must hear him as he improvises toccatas full of refinement and admirable inventions’ (trans. C. MacClintock, 1979).

A distinctively Italian type of improvisation was the viola bastarda technique, which appears in several Italian sources during the period 1580–1630. Taking a polyphonic composition as a model, the viola bastarda roams around the texture, embellishing now one voice, now another, and at times creating an entirely new voice (Paras, 1986).

The venerable practice of improvised vocal counterpoint over a cantus firmus (contrappunto alla mente) is mentioned by several 17th-century theorists. Its mastery was a requirement for members of the papal choir, who according to G.B. Doni (1647) were sometimes guilty of abusing it, insistently repeating a musical figure that did not always agree with the cantus firmus (Ferand, ‘Improvised Vocal Counterpoint’ 1956). It may have been a common feature of the training of singers, even in the stile recitativo (Hill, 1994). When two or more parts were improvised over a cantus firmus dissonances could result; this was tolerated and even prized by some commentators. Banchieri (Cartella musicale, 1614) states that the effect of contrappunto alla mente can be obtained even in a written composition if each voice is composed separately with reference to the bass only. He comments that there may even be hundreds of singers, and that although none of them knows what the others are doing, the result will be pleasing (Ferand, op. cit., 1956). A subspecies of contrappunto alla mente in which two or more singers improvise over a cantus firmus without contrapuntal errors is called contraponto in concerto. Vicente Lusitano describes it in Introdutione facilissima (1553), as does Pedro Cerone in El melopeo y maestro (1613)

Scipione Cerreto (Della prattica musica, 1601) describes canonic improvisation over a cantus firmus. His illustrations are designed to give the singer practice in improvising over common intervallic patterns (conjunct motion, rising 3rds, etc.) in the bass (ex.6). Improvising singers in the 17th century, like jazz musicians of more recent times, probably committed to memory a repertory of melodic figures for use in specific contexts.

Contrappunto alla mente and contraponto in concerto were applied principally in the context of sacred music. On the secular side were performers who sang vernacular lyrics, accompanying themselves, often on a plucked string instrument, to stock musical formulae. These singers ranged from purveyors of medicines and potions (ciurmadori), popular actors and street entertainers, to trained professional singers who intoned the works of leading poets. The formulae, each customarily consisting of a simple melody with bass line such as the Aria del gran duca and Ruggiero, were frequently subjected to strophic variation. Giovanni Stefani’s collection Affetti amorosi (1618) contains an aria per cantar sonetti and an aria per cantar ottave, designed to accommodate the singing of any verses in their respective genres. The simplicity of both settings suggests that they are not finished compositions, but frameworks suitable for elaboration. Similarly, in several Italian publications for Spanish guitar (e.g. Millioni, Abbatessa), the performer was expected to sing standard poetic forms (strombotti, ottave rime, etc.) to an improvised or familiar melody over the chords indicated by the alfabeto tablature (Cavallini, 1989).

Improvisation, §II, 3: Western art music: Baroque period

(ii) 17th-century English practice.

In just the manner described by Agazzari, there was a flourishing school of instrumental improvisation in England in the 17th century. Variation was a process inherited from the virginalists, and English instrumentalists were fond of improvising diminutions or variations on popular songs such as Greensleeves, itself based on the passamezzo antico. From this practice it was only a simple step to composing an original ground and repeating it ad libitum while another instrumentalist or two improvised divisions on it. A valuable source for this practice is Christopher Simpson’s Division Violist (1659);ex.7 shows excerpts from a set of divisions from it for solo bass viol. The vocal lines of English continuo songs were also subjected to extensive embellishments of various kinds, and several manuscript sources are largely devoted to such florid songs (see Till, 1975).

Thomas Mace (Musick’s Monument, 1676) is one of the most cogent witnesses to improvisatory instrumental practices in England. For him the Praelude is

a Piece of Confused-wild-shapeless-kind of Intricate Play … in which no perfect Form, Shape, or Uniformity can be perceived, but a Random-Business, Pottering and Grooping, up and down, from one Stop, or Key, to another; And generally, so performed to make Tryal, whether the Instrument be well in Tune, or not … After they have Compleated Their Tuning, They … fall into some kind of Voluntary, or Fanciful Play, more Intelligible; which … is a way, whereby He may more Fully, and Plainly shew His Excellency, and Ability, than by any other kind of undertaking; and has an unlimited, and unbounded Liberty.

Mace also writes of improvising an interlude in order to make a transition from a ‘suit[e] of lessons’ in one key to one in another key: ‘They do not Abruptly, and Suddenly Begin, such New Lessons, without some Neat, and Handsom Interluding-Voluntary-like-Playing; which may, by Degrees, (as it were) Steal into That New, and Intended Key’. In addition he offers an unusual account of the creation of the lesson entitled ‘The Authors Mistress’, published in Musick’s Monument. In his description of playing his lute at random when alone he provides a rare account of ‘spontaneous’ improvisation, with no functional purpose nor any reference to a pre-existing framework.

Thomas Morley devoted a substantial proportion of his Plaine and Easie Introduction to Practicall Musicke (1597) to improvised vocal counterpoint, stating that ‘when a man talketh of a Descanter it must be understood of one that can, extempore, sing a part upon a plainsong’. His examples of descant reveal sophisticated techniques: imitation, canon, double counterpoint and inversion. Morley stated that this art, though still very much in use in churches elsewhere, had declined in England by the end of the 16th century – yet Elway Bevin discussed it as late as 1631 in A Briefe and Short Instruction (see Ferand, op. cit., 1956).

Improvisation, §II, 3: Western art music: Baroque period

(iii) French practice.

While the influence of Caccini's expressive, text-orientated style of ornamentation can be seen in Guédron's declamatory récits for solo voice, notated diminutions in both polyphonic and solo forms of the early 17th-century air de cour show that, in general, performers imitated the purely melodic formulae of earlier Italian practice. ‘Passages are especially pleasing when they are sustained, and last a long time’, wrote Mersenne in 1637. Slow-moving songs for solo voice on melancholy subjects received the most profuse ornamentation. A specifically French practice arose in the air de cour as sung by a soloist, whereby florid diminutions were concentrated in the second and later verses, to give the effect of a musical variation on the ‘simple’ melody presented in the first verse. A melody thus embellished was termed a diminution in the air de cour and a double (or second couplet) in the later air and air sérieux. Ex.8 shows an air de cour by Antoine de Boësset (taken from Mersenne) with Henry Le Bailly's diminution for verse 2. Moulinié's lighter ornamentation for verse 1 features the port de voix that anticipates the beat, the appoggiatura type most favoured in France before the 18th century. According to Mersenne, French airs were set apart from those of Italy, Germany and Spain because good singers like Le Bailly added trills extempore in diminutions and at cadences, ‘the more so as at those moments the voice is greatly softened and doubles its charming motion’. The signs for ornaments in ex.8, namely a cross for cadences (trills) with two to four repercussions, and the letter m for longer cadences, were not printed in the original text; Mersenne added them later by hand to his personal copy of his own treatise. Other graces besides trills and dynamic shadings regularly left to the performer's discretion included the plainte and the accent.

Diminution practice based purely on melodic and metrical considerations is still the focus of La belle méthode, ou L'art de bien chanter (1666) by the Besançon musician Jean Millet. However, from Mersenne onwards this approach had been censured for failing to take the text into account. Bénigne de Bacilly's Remarques curieuses sur l'art de bien chanter (1668) details the art of ornamentation typical of a new generation of singers, whose roulades were now tailored to the importance and length of syllables. Bacilly's exemplar was Michel Lambert, the greatest singer of Louis XIV's reign. While Bacilly's list of specific graces is much longer than Mersenne's, most were still left to the discretion of the singer to supply. Lambert committed many of his doubles to print, yet remarked in the preface to his Airs of 1660: ‘I would have dearly liked to be able to mark in my score all the ornaments [graces] and subtleties [petites recherches] that I try to bring to the performance of my airs, but these are things no-one has discovered how to write down’. Lully apparently disliked the practice of doubles for dramatic reasons, and later theorists devoted relatively little space to diminution techniques, but written-out examples in the songbooks show that doubles in the style of Lambert were sung well into the following century.

Improvised embellishment in instrumental music tended to reflect vocal practice. Jean Rousseau dedicated his Méthode claire, certaine et facile pour apprendre à chanter la musique (1678) to Michel Lambert, and in his Traité de la viole (1687) he set out to transfer Lambert's style to the viol. It contains the illustrations seen in ex.9, together with elaborate rules for the placing of the port de voix and tremblement in performance. Anticipating the beat by taking value from the preceding note was a technique not generally used in keyboard music, although there are rare examples in the récit of Nivers' Suite du 1er ton from his third Livre d'orgue (1675). All the ornaments in Couperin's L'art de toucher le clavecin (1716) begin on the beat.

Notated agréments are often lacking in 17th-century instrumental music as well as in vocal music, and must be added by the performer. The music of Louis Couperin, for example, contains few written ornament signs. In the later Baroque period, by which time written symbols were in general use, the degree of precision with which François Couperin and Marin Marais set them down is nevertheless unique. Montéclair's section on ornaments in his Principes de musique (1736), a noteworthy attempt to standardize ornament names and signs, makes it clear that graces were still often left to the performer's ‘taste and experience’ to supply. Most important in his array of 18 agréments (‘those who perform it badly will never sing pleasingly’) was the tremblement (trill), which he subdivided into four types. Expressive ornaments include the son enflé et diminué (crescendo and decrescendo), for which he claimed the invention of the modern ‘hairpin’ signs. Montéclair's examples, and the evidence of his own music, show that he did not object to virtuoso passage-work as such, but he was very much against free diminution (his term is passage) that obscured the melodic line. In his opinion, instrumentalists used it to excess out of their desire ‘to imitate the style of the Italians’.

Du Mont advertised his petits motets of 1652 with continuo as being the first of their kind to appear in France, but, as in Italy, a tradition of adding instruments impromptu to accompany (or replace) voices preceded the advent of the continuo. Untexted bass notes, found from time to time in polyphonic airs de cour from Guédron's second book of 1612 onwards, indicate the need for an accompanying instrument. A ‘basse continue pour le luth’ is mentioned by name in Moulinié's third book (1629), and a ‘basse continue pour les instruments’ in Boësset's seventh book (1630).

Other typically French aspects of improvisatory practice concern rhythm. Stylish performance of French Baroque music in general called for a knowledge of conventions of overdotting and notes inégales, which for the sake of flexibility and subtlety were not expressed in the notation. Players of the harpsichord, lute and viol were expected to improvise the entire rhythmic fabric of many preludes, which were printed only in skeletal form in long notes and with very few ornament signs. (See Dotted rhythms; Notes inégales; and Prélude non mesuré.)

Improvisation, §II, 3: Western art music: Baroque period

(iv) Later italianate embellishments.

In the early 18th century, French composers like François Couperin, and some German masters like J.S. Bach, included their desired ornamentation in the text of the music, either with symbols for single-note graces (Fr. agréments; It. abellimenti), or with actual florid notation for passages. Their specificity, unusual in its day, was, however, to continue to the present, eventually eclipsing the more prevalent 18th-century trend, favoured especially by Italian composers and those working in their styles, of leaving embellishment to the performer. It was generally felt that, with less specific notation, the music served as something of a blueprint, and could be constantly refreshed and kept current by the idiomatic addition of improvised graces. While the greatest practitioners of this lavish, expressive improvisatory vocabulary were the solo violinists and singers, all soloists, vocal and instrumental, were expected to enter into this kind of creative collaboration with the composer. Although the practice is frequently seen as Italian, by the middle of the 18th century as impressive a contribution in this area was being made by French and Germanic musicians, especially violinists. Quantz, recognizing the basic difference between what he saw as French and Italian aesthetic (Versuch, 1752; chap.10, no.115), referred to the frequently notated single-note ornaments as ‘wesentliche Manieren’ (necessary ornaments) and the more elaborate personal improvised graces as ‘willkürliche Veränderungen’. Burney remarked later of Italian practice that ‘an adagio in a song or solo is generally little more than an outline left to the performer’s abilities to colour’. The best-known examples of improvisation in Italian adagios appear in Estienne Roger’s edition of Corelli’s Sonatas for violin and violone or harpsichord op.5 (Amsterdam, 1710), which the publisher prefaced by a declaration that the adagios were graced by Corelli himself: ‘Composez par Mr A. Corelli comme il les joue’; ex.10 presents the opening bars of the third sonata. Further, in Roger’s 1716 reprint the injunction has changed to ‘comme M. Corelli veut qu’on les joue’. These are significant samples to be emulated by the performer in his or her own manner, in addition to their value as documents of Corelli’s playing; Corelli, like any other 17th- or 18th-century musician, would have varied his graces at every performance.

In his Compendium musicae signatoriae et modulatoriae vocalis (1689; chap.5, §19) W.C. Printz described some Italian ornaments – figure corte, messanze and salti (ex.11) – that are somewhat less florid than those encountered in adagios. Even Montéclair, who was against passages (see §(iii) above), admitted this type, which he called diminutions. The best way to see how they can be improvised is to strip the figure corte from a written-out piece, for which the aria ‘Singet dem Herrn’ from Buxtehude’s cantata of the same title (buxwv98) has been selected (ex.12). Bach’s cantatas are replete with examples of written-out figure corte. These are interesting because genuine Italian sources of the late 17th century are scarce. They reflect the earlier division type, related to some of the patterns from which Corelli’s ornamental style is ultimately derived, especially in anonymous 18th-century decorations for Corelli’s fast movements; Corelli’s graces for the adagios are largely elaborations of the gruppi, tremolos and other figuration typical in 17th-century ornamentation. It is therefore puzzling that Roger North should have referred contemptuously to Roger’s newly published Corelli graces as ‘so much vermin’, when they appear to be no more alien than familiar Italian patterns grouped under a single bowstroke. Beginning with the Corelli sonatas, the notation of florid ornamentation, however rhythmically approximate, appeared regularly in published and manuscript sources, examples of a composer’s or performer’s style or milieu. For Corelli’s op.5 sonatas alone there are over 20 known sources of preserved improvisation, each adding new forms of passage-work idiomatic to the period and provenance of the example. The density of notated embellishment increases noticeably throughout the century, even encompassing the chromatic inflections of the galant and Classical styles. The most ornate late example of a decorated movement for violin and bass may be seen in the fold-out of J.-B. Cartier’s 1798 compendium of 18th-century violin literature, L’art du violon, where a Tartini ‘Adagio’ is varied in 17 increasingly complex ways (see illustration). Throughout it one can still perceive the original text, however, and identify much of the figuration with its 17th-century roots. Other examples in the solo violin literature of the period include William Babell’s XII Solos … with Proper Graces (London, c1725), Franz Benda’s 33 sonatas for violin and continuo (D-Bsb Mus.ms.1315/15), Geminiani’s Sonatas for violin and bass (London, 1716, 2/1739 ‘carefully corrected and with the addition, for the sake of greater ease, of the embellishments for the adagios’), Telemann’s Sonates corellisantes (Hamburg, 1735) and Sonate metodiche (Hamburg, 1728) and Vivaldi’s Sonata in Arv29 (plain in Malipiero edition; second movement ornamented in D-Dlb, Pisendel collection).

Improvisation, §II, 3: Western art music: Baroque period

(v) Varied reprises.

Until now, the discussion has centred on examples of improvised ornamentation in slow movements where improvised graces are substituted for a simpler notated text. In fast movements, virtually all in binary form, the varied reprise of each section was considered essential. Quantz wrote about it as follows (op. cit., from the translation Easy and Fundamental Instructions, c1790):

It is a principal Rule with regard to Variations that they must have a just reference to the plain Air, the variation is made upon … the first Note of the Variation must for the most part be the same with the original or plain Note … or any other Note may be chosen instead of it from the Harmony of the Bass, provided the Principal or plain Note be heard immediately after it …
Brisk and lively Variations must not be introduced in an Air that is soft, tender and mournful, unless the Performer knows how to render them more suitable and agreeable in the manner of executing them.
Variations are only to be introduced after the simple Air has been heard first, otherwise it will be impossible for the Hearer to distinguish the latter from the former; nor does an Air, compos’d in a pleasing and graceful Stile, require any such additions, unless one was sure to improve still more upon it, they being used for no other end, than to render an Air in the cantabile Stile more melodious, and Divisions in general more brilliant.
Those that consist in a continual series of swift Notes or quick Passages, though ever so much admired by some, in general are not so pleasing as those of the more simple kind, the latter being more capable of touching the Heart, a Point that certainly is most to be aim’d at, and indeed at the same time the most difficult Part in Music; for which reason a young Beginner is advis’d to be cautious and moderate in the use of Embellishments and Graces.

However, it is quite clear that in many performances both playings were freely embellished. Extant Corelli material other than the Roger edition of 1710 contains heavily decorated examples of fast movements, some with more than one ornamental option. And the fact that the practice of embellishing both first statement and repeat is discouraged, in the name of good taste, by writers of the period proves how widespread the practice must have been.

Practical consideration occasionally led a composer to write out varied reprises, as C.P.E. Bach did in his Sechs Sonaten für Clavier mit veränderten Reprisen (1760). He wrote in the foreword (translation, 1961, from Ferand, Die Improvisation in Beispielen, 1956):

Variation upon repetition is indispensable today. It is expected of every performer. The public demands that practically every idea be repeatedly altered, sometimes without investigating whether the structure of the piece or the skill of the performer permits such alteration. It is this embellishing alone, especially if it is coupled with a long and sometimes bizarrely ornamented cadenza, that often squeezes the bravos out of most listeners. How lamentably are these two adornments of performance misused. One no longer has the patience to play the written notes the first time; the too long absence of bravos is unbearable. Often these untimely variations, contrary to the setting, contrary to the Affect, and contrary to the relationship between the ideas, are a disagreeable matter for many composers. Granted, however, that a performer has all the qualities necessary to vary a piece in the proper way; is he always ready to do so? Are not new difficulties raised thereby in unfamiliar pieces? However, aside from these difficulties and from misuse, good variations always retain their value … In writing these sonatas I have had in mind mainly beginners and such amateurs as … no longer have enough time and patience to practise especially assiduously. I have wanted to give them … the satisfaction of being heard playing variations without having either to invent them themselves or to have others write them down and then themselves learn them by heart with much effort. I am happy to be the first, so far as I know, to work in this manner for the use and the pleasure of his patrons and friends.

Ex.13 shows the beginning of no.1, with the embellished reprise below (the right-hand part is shown; there are only minor differences in the left).

The varied reprise is mandatory in da capo arias. P.F. Tosi gave good advice to singers on this matter in his Opinioni de’ cantori antichi e moderni (1723), here cited in J.E. Galliard’s translation of 1742 (chap.7, §4):

In the first [part] they require nothing but the simplest Ornaments, of a good Taste and few, that the Composition may remain simple, plain, and pure; in the second they expect, that to this purity some artful Graces be added, by which the Judicious may hear, that the Ability of the Singer is greater; and, in repeating the Air, he that does not vary it for the better, is no great Master.

Because the principle of embellishment in arias did not change radically during the 18th century, except perhaps in the ‘reform’ operas of Gluck, the rules given by J.A. Hiller in his Anweisung zum musikalisch-zierlichen Gesange (1780; see §4(ii) below) are equally applicable to Baroque music. He stated that an aria must first be performed as the composer wrote it, though the singer could add one or two small graces. The varied da capo must appear easy and pleasant, but should actually be difficult in order to give the singer an opportunity to demonstrate his skill. In slow arias it is best to introduce legato ornaments, in allegro, staccato ones. Passaggi and similar ornaments should never be sung twice in the same way, and generally speaking the same graces should not be used too close to one another or too often in succession.

Improvisation, §II, 3: Western art music: Baroque period

(vi) Melodic variations.

In addition to the free-form ornamentation described above, it seems to have been customary for shorter movements to receive added sets of figural, melodic variations following the playing of the movements that served as their ‘theme’, even if that theme already had its reprises decorated. Georg Muffat referred implicitly to this practice in the preface to his concerti grossi of 1701, saying that the ‘liveliest airs [are to be played] thrice (with all [their] repeats)’. By using a system of distinct characterized variations, a short movement of this type could gain added cohesive structure as well as length, while demonstrating the improvisatory skill of the performer. Once again, the best period examples are found in the music of Corelli, where gavottas and gigas are extant both in freely decorated versions and extended with sets of variations. Frequently, individual movements with added variations exist without reference to the entire sonatas that originally contained them – the basis for the later Classical theme and variations.

Improvisation, §II, 3: Western art music: Baroque period

(vii) Cadenzas.

A special instance of free improvisation is the cadenza (for a fuller account seeCadenza). In his section on cadences Quantz defined them as

those Embellishments commonly introduced on the last Note but one, mostly on the Fifth of the Key … the Productions of the momentary Invention of the Performer. Regular Time is seldom to be observ’d in Cadences … Those for Voice or Wind Instruments ought to be short and so manag’d that they may be perform’d in one Breath, but those for String Instruments are not limited, but the Performer has so much Latitude given him, as his own skill and fruitfulness of Invention will permit, but notwithstanding will gain more Applause from the Judicious by a moderate length than otherwise.

The short cadenza ‘within a breath’ and the extended solo fantasy are exemplified and contrasted in the works and performing practices of two famous early 18th-century violinists, the Roman Corelli and the Venetian Vivaldi. At the close of Corelli’s sonata and concerto grosso movements it is not uncommon to find, immediately before the final cadential trill, a flourish that recalls the slurred gruppi of the ‘graces’ in the Sonatas. By contrast, reports of Vivaldi’s pyrotechnic abilities, not always immediately evident in the texts of his concertos, are amply demonstrated in the lengthy manuscript cadenzas for the Concerto in Drv208 (‘il Grosso Mogul’), which came to light in the 1980s. Further, Pietro Locatelli, the most technically accomplished virtuoso before Paganini, published as Capricii the extended and difficult cadenzas for the concertos of his 1733 L’arte del violino op.3. C.P.E. Bach, in his Versuch über die wahre Art das Clavier zu spielen (1753; end of chap.2), also discussed cadenzas in terms of fermatas appearing at cadences as well as other places (trans. W.J. Mitchell, 1949):

Fermate are often employed with good effect … there are three places at which the fermata appears: over the next to the last, the last, or the rest after the last bass note … Fermate over rests appear most frequently in allegro movements and are not embellished. The two other kinds are usually found in slow, affettuoso movements and must be embellished if only to avoid artlessness. In any event elaborate decoration is more necessary here than in other parts of movements.

The cadenzas improvised in da capo arias by singers such as the famous castrato Farinelli often ran to inordinate length, notwithstanding the stricture that they should be sung in one breath. Tosi (op. cit., 128–9) criticized such cadenzas thus:

Every Air has (at least) three Cadences, that are all three final. Generally speaking, the Study of the Singers of the present Times consists in terminating the Cadence of the first Part with an overflowing of Passagges and Divisions at Pleasure, and the Orchestre waits; in that of the second the Dose is encreased, and the Orchestre grows tired; but on the last Cadence, the Throat is set a going, like a Weather-cock in a Whirlwind, and the Orchestre yawns.

The gigantic written-out cadenza for the harpsichord in the first movement of Bach’s Fifth Brandenburg Concerto is an excellent example of its type, though it may be considered too extensive for the usual extemporization and even to constitute an example of the soloist’s abuse of privilege. When the two outer movements of a Baroque concerto – or indeed any two movements in any other type of work – are separated only by two chords, usually constituting a Phrygian cadence, the first of them should be elaborated into an improvised cadenza; a familiar instance occurs in Bach’s Third Brandenburg Concerto.

Improvisation, §II, 3: Western art music: Baroque period

(viii) Continuo realization.

Developments in the realization of the thoroughbass kept pace with the elaboration of the melodic line in the late Baroque period (for a fuller account see Continuo). The most exhaustive treatment of this subject is by Heinichen in Der General-Bass in der Composition (1728). He declared that the simple three-part realizations of the 17th century were old-fashioned and advocated the doubling of chords in both hands and the introduction of improvised ornamentation. He provided (i, chap.6) three realizations of a single bass line (ex.14), first in a simple manner (a), which can be avoided by introducing ornamentation and a true melodic line in the right hand (b); or, to give even more freedom to the melodic line, the chords may be played entirely by the left hand (c).

Early 18th-century Italian continuo practice went far beyond Heinichen, especially in the accompaniment of recitatives. Gasparini’s L’armonico pratico al cimbalo (1708), Joseph de Torres y Martinez Bravo’s Reglas generales de acompañar, en organo, clavicordio y harpa (enlarged 2/1736), which cites Gasparini with clearer musical examples, and Alessandro Scarlatti’s Varie introduttioni per sonare e mettersi in tono delle compositioni (GB-Lbl Add.14244) give rules for the addition to triads of handfuls of acciaccaturas, to be played ‘quasi arpeggiando’. But other examples, now and later in the century – for instance in Niccolo Pasquali’s Thorough-Bass Made Easy (1757) – are more subdued.

There are first-hand accounts of Bach’s continuo improvisation. L.C. Mizler wrote (1738) of his accompanying ‘every thorough-bass to a solo so that one thinks it is a piece of concerted music and as if the melody he plays in the right hand were written beforehand’ (translation from Aldrich, 1949). C.P.E. Bach related that his father liked to extemporize a fourth part when accompanying a trio. Bach’s pupil J.C. Kittel described (Der angehende praktische Organist, iii, 1808, p.33) how Bach would become impatient with the inadequate accompaniment of a pupil and how ‘one had to be prepared to find Bach’s hands and fingers mingling with the hands and fingers of the player and, without further troubling the latter, adorning the accompaniment with masses of harmony, which were even more impressive than the unexpected proximity of the strict teacher’. Two of Bach’s accompaniments are thought to be examples of his own realizations in written-out form, since they are marked ‘cembalo obligato’ and are not in the same style as his usual composed harpsichord parts: they are those of the second aria in the solo cantata Amore traditore bwv203 (thought to be by Bach) and of the second movement of the Sonata in B minor for flute and harpsichordbwv1030.

Improvisation, §II, 3: Western art music: Baroque period

(ix) Complete pieces.

Improvisation of complete pieces of music was not new to the Baroque period, but some of the great composer-performers of the era achieved new heights of virtuosity. In the 17th century the organ improvisations of Sweelinck, Frescobaldi and Buxtehude won the admiration of crowds who were attracted from far and wide. Bach is known to have improvised a prelude and fugue, an organ trio in three obbligato parts, a chorale prelude and a final fugue, all on a single hymn tune. Forkel remarked on Wilhelm Friedemann’s impressions of his father’s improvisations at the organ, saying that his organ compositions were indeed

full of the expression of devotion, solemnity and dignity; but his unpremeditated organ playing, in which nothing was lost in the process of writing down but everything came directly to life out of his imagination, is said to have been still more devout, solemn, dignified and sublime.

A famous story that hardly needs repeating tells how in 1747, while visiting Frederick the Great, Bach extemporized a fugue on a ‘royal theme’ given him by the king that he later worked out in his Musical Offering. Two of the rare places in music by (or attributed to) Bach where the performer is allowed some freedom to improvise are seen in the bars of minim chords in the Chromatic Fantasia bwv903 and the semibreve chords that constitute the entire prelude of the keyboard fugue in A minor bwv895.

Handel was equally famous for his improvising, as is attested by Hawkins’s description of his playing of his own organ concertos:

His amazing command of the instrument, the grandeur and dignity of his style, the copiousness of his imagination, and the fertility of his invention were qualities that absorbed every inferior attainment. When he gave a concerto, his method in general was to introduce it with a voluntary movement on the diapasons, which stole on the ear in a slow and solemn progression; the harmony close wrought, and as full as could possibly be expressed; the passages concatenated with stupendous art, the whole at the same time being perfectly intelligible, and carrying the appearance of great simplicity. This kind of prelude was succeeded by the concerto itself, which he executed with a degree of spirit and firmness that no one ever pretended to equal.

Indeed, in the scores of the opp.4 and 7 organ concertos the soloist is frequently directed to play an ‘Adagio ad lib’ or ‘Fuga ad lib’. While Handel’s own improvisatory skills must have been prodigious, the publication of such instructions indicates that he expected no less from his colleagues.

A new type of improvisatory piece called a partimento arose in the Baroque period with the inception of the thoroughbass. In thoroughbass practice both the bass line and the melody are given, while in the partimento only the bass line with figures is given, over which it was the performer’s responsibility to improvise self-contained pieces, character-pieces often called toccatas, and even fugues. Practised mostly in Italy, the partimento is closely related to the English practice of making divisions on a ground (see §(ii) above). Partimento improvisations were cultivated extensively as pedagogical exercises in the later Baroque period, when numerous collections were published by Gaetano Greco, Francesco Durante, Carlo Contumacci, Gaetano Franzaroli and Giuseppe Saratelli.

The art of improvisation flourished to the very end of the Baroque era in the free fantasia. J.S. Petri, in his Anleitung zur practischen Musik (1767), claimed that the fantasia was ‘the highest degree of composition … where meditation and execution are directly bound up with one another’. The whole final chapter of C.P.E. Bach’s Versuch (1753) is devoted to the improvisation of fantasias. A free fantasia is given at the end both in written-out form and as a partimento. The absence of bar-lines emphasizes the freedom of such a composition.

Beyond the feats of the 17th- and 18th-century virtuosos, improvisation was certainly a customary skill among competent, less renowned musicians. Extemporizing over ground basses, for instance, was an essential part of any musician’s training, and the extemporization of dances, suites and even more complex forms was not considered unusual. The incomplete scoring of 17th-century Italian operas seems to indicate that much of the instrumental music was improvised: at many junctures, one finds simply a bass line with two to four cleffed blank staves above it. It is clear that five-part texture (either two violins and two violas with bass, or one violin and three violas of differing sizes with bass) was usual in music throughout Europe, yet few viola parts or viola lines in scores can be found. There is little doubt that these were improvised, particularly given the more aural and less page-orientated training of most musicians of the period; unquestionably musical literacy was not a critical requirement for a practising musician of the day.

Improvisation, §II, 4: Western art music: The Classical period

4. The Classical period.

(i) Instrumental music.

(ii) Vocal music.

(i) Instrumental music.

Performers and composers of the Classical period perpetuated three types of Baroque improvisation: embellishment, free fantasies and cadenzas. (The present article treats the two former; for discussion of the latter see Cadenza.) Although all three practices gradually declined, the universality of their use is confirmed in contemporary reports of concert performances (Burney), in treatises (e.g. by C.P.E. Bach, Manfredini and Türk – who in turn drew from earlier treatises e.g. by Marpurg and Quantz), and in composers' written-out embellishments of their own and others' musical texts. It seems likely also that soloists performing keyboard concertos improvised during orchestral ritornellos.

Reports and histories of the period inveigh against excessive amount and length of improvisation and embellishment. Such polemics confirm that these practices were widespread. Their aesthetic prescriptions are best evaluated in comparison with written-out embellishments, for example those by Haydn and Mozart, and the pseudo-improvised modulating preludes Mozart wrote for the use of his sister Nannerl; such documents show what was actually done (as opposed to what some observers would like to have heard). Of the authors whose treatises contain detailed descriptions of the use and methods of improvisation, C.P.E. Bach is the only one whose music elicits the same respect as his writings; the disparity in proficiency between composers and performers of Haydn's or Beethoven's level and those of, for example, Türk's cannot be overlooked. Nor can the fact that exhaustive treatises often tend to the categorical and pedantic. While writers and composers of the period may have agreed generally on the decisive role of taste, that of the master Classical composers is not necessarily identical with that of their writer contemporaries.

(a) Improvised embellishments.

Treatises affirm that competence in prepared or improvised embellishments is dependent on thorough knowledge of the basic types (‘Manieren’) and their execution. The sources give sample embellishments but cannot clarify what proportion was prepared and what was improvised in 18th-century practice, although they do show that there were discrepancies between original text and actual performance. Composers wrote out embellishments for the benefit of amateurs or students, who, unlike the composer or virtuosos, were not expected to have mastered the art of improvisation. Mosel (1813), following in the footsteps of Gluck, Leopold Mozart, Quantz and C.P.E. Bach, specifically mentioned Mozart as a composer who wrote out precisely the ornaments he desired. Bach (1753–62, p.165) warned:

many variants of melodies introduced by executants in the belief that they honour a piece, actually occurred to the composer, who, however, selected and wrote down the original because he considered it the best of its kind.

He elaborated his reservations elsewhere:

Today varied reprises are indispensable, being expected to every performer. A friend of mine takes every last pain to play pieces as written, purely and in accord with the rules of good performance. Can applause be rightfully denied him? Another, often driven by necessity, hides under bold variations his inability to express the notes as written. Nevertheless, the public holds him above the former. Performers want to vary every detail without stopping to ask whether such variation is permitted by their ability and the construction of the piece.
Often it is simply the varying, especially when it is allied with long and much too singularly decorated cadenzas, that elicits the loudest acclaim from the audience … Often these untimely variations are contrary to the construction, the affect, and the inner relationship of the ideas – an unpleasant matter for many composers. Assuming that the performer is capable of varying properly, is he always in the proper mood? Do not many new problems arise with unfamiliar works? Is not the most important consideration in varying, that the performer do honour to the piece? … Yet, regardless of these difficulties and abuses, good variation always retains its value.

The locus classicus of improvised instrumental ornamentation was the restatement of the principal theme, particularly in slow movements and rondos. Composers did not always notate such restatements, but signalled them in the manuscript with da capo signs. Thus the literal reprinting of the theme in modern editions creates an implication – not found in the sources – that the composer desired a note-for-note repetition of the opening music. Composers themselves often provided embellishments of principal themes immediately before performances by pupils or before publication. The differences between the texts Mozart used himself and those he presented to the general public may be seen by comparing autograph manuscripts and first editions of the second movement of the Piano Sonata in F k332/300k (ex.15) and the third movement of that in D k284/205b, variation xi. By the 1790s composers were writing elaborate embellishments into thematic reprises, having expropriated embellishment from the domain of improvisation (ex.16 shows an example by Beethoven).

Performers improvised embellishments mostly in works having a primary melodic line, for example solo piano works, duo sonatas with an obbligato instrument, string quartets with dominant first violin, chamber works for a wind instrument and strings, or instrumental concertos. Nonetheless, orchestral players of the 18th and early 19th centuries evidently improvised embellishments; indeed, in an account dated 19 December 1816 Louis Spohr decried an orchestral performance conducted by him in Rome that was constantly marred by untrammelled embellishment by individual members of the orchestra. Spohr remarked that he specifically forbade the players to make any additions to the music as printed, but acknowledged that ornamentation was second nature to them. He cited the horns as converting ex.17a into ex.17b and the clarinets as rendering (‘perhaps simultaneously’) ex.17c as ex.17d.

Mozart's piano concertos are a special case. Most of them were written for his personal use. In a number of them the solo part is occasionally notated in sketch-like shorthand. This occurs when melodic and rhythmic activity suddenly slacken without obvious dramatic or expressive motivation, such as slow-movement sequences (e.g. in the second movement of the concerto in C k503; ex.18); and also during ‘piano recitatives’ in the slow movements, in which a melody in the piano's right hand is accompanied by repeated quaver chords in the strings (e.g. in the concertos in D k451; D minor k466; C k467; C minor k491; D k537; and B k595). A surviving embellishment to the recitative from the second movement of k451 written out by Mozart for his sister Nannerl hints at his expectations for such passages (ex.19). Mozart also used such shorthand, for example long notes delineating outer boundaries, for arpeggiated or connective passage-work (e.g. in the concertos k451 in D, k482 in E, k595 in B and especially k491 in C minor). In such places the soloist's sudden reduction in rhythmic speed is not compensated for by activity in the orchestra. Suggestions for filling in the gaps appear in Badura-Skoda (1957), Neumann (1986) and the NMA scores of the concertos, which identify them as editorial (ex.20 shows a representative passage from the third movement of k482 in which suggested fill-ins by the NMA editors Hans Engel and Horst Heussner, by the Badura-Skodas and by Robert Levin, are shown above the autograph version).

The large leaps commonly found in dramatic arias of the period were often mimicked in instrumental music. Even in the 20th century treatises continued to warn against filling them in; but an extremely elaborate written-out embellishment to the second movement of Mozart's Piano Concerto in A k488 in the hand of his pupil Barbara Ployer fills in such leaps. The content of the decoration hardly concords with Mozart's personal language, but it gives a useful indication of the quantity, if not the quality, of what Mozart provided in his own performances.

Given the direct relationship between individual works and specific performers and circumstances, a performer wishing to supply the most idiomatic embellishments will use the instrumental range observed by the composer (this precept also applies to cadenzas and lead-ins).

(b) Free fantasies and other improvised pieces and passages.

By the Classical era solo improvisation was carried out mostly by keyboard players, and few excelled at it. Dittersdorf declared that he liked hearing only ‘Mozart, Clementi and other creative geniuses’, whose improvisation had been incompetently aped everywhere. The free fantasy occupies the final section of C.P.E. Bach's treatise. He made it clear that the key to successful improvisations of this kind is a solid knowledge of progressions and consistency of harmonic rhythm. The ametrical fantasy that illustrates his points recalls many of his compositions.

Mozart's and Beethoven's improvisatory abilities were celebrated; their concerts frequently featured solo improvisation. The fantasias composed by Mozart, which may represent revisions of pieces improvised in concert, are mostly metrical; despite their free declamation, they give the appearance of having been carefully worked out. In addition to such fantasies the most common types of keyboard improvisation were spontaneous variations on a given theme, and improvised preludes used either to try out an unfamiliar instrument before a formal performance or to link works in different keys. A number of Mozart's modulating preludes survive. These little-known works (all published in NMA) are mostly ametrical. Beethoven's Fantasia op.77 (which may be a revision of an improvisation at his Akademie at the Theater an der Wien on 22 December 1808) is primarily metrical, though it contains several striking ametrical passages. Schubert's fantasies are metrical.

Keyboard improvisation was not limited to solo performances. Walther Dürr suggested that the lack of piano introductions to many of Schubert's songs implies that the accompanist improvised a brief Vorspiel. Dürr theorized that many of the piano introductions in the posthumous lieder that are not known definitely to have been composed by Schubert were derived from his improvisations; Dürr characterized these not as forgeries (‘Fälschungen’) but as necessary complements (‘Ergänzungen’) to the text in a printed edition for dilettantes.

(c) Continuo in piano concertos.

There is considerable evidence that Classical composers expected the soloist to improvise from the bass – figured or unfigured – during the orchestral ritornellos of keyboard concertos. 18th-century published editions of the keyboard part usually contain a figured bass in those sections, and Mozart notated ‘col Basso’ (‘with the bass’) in the left-hand staff of the keyboard part on virtually every page of the score where the soloist does not have an obbligato part. The reasons for this practice are still debated. Such concertos were normally conducted from the keyboard; it has been argued that the keyboard played chords to keep the orchestra together or that the bass line was nothing more than a cue to prevent the soloist from getting lost.

The Badura-Skodas (pp.207–8), pointing out the obvious differences in timbre between fortepiano and modern piano and between Classical and modern orchestral instruments, adduced criteria for the discreet use of continuo in modern performance. Neumann (1986, p.255) was more categorical, rejecting its use except on old instruments, and Charles Rosen (2/1972, p.192) stated flatly, ‘In the concertos of Mozart there is absolutely no place where an extra note is needed to fill in the harmony’. Two documents pertinent to the controversy survive. The first is an autograph continuo part of Mozart's Piano Concerto in C k246. The Badura-Skodas and Szász argued that it shows how Mozart played continuo. The second is the carefully notated continuo part in the autograph to Beethoven's Fifth Piano Concerto op.73. The lack of similar explicit directions in the earlier keyboard concertos can be explained by the fact that Beethoven personally performed them; the fifth was the only one he never played. The continuo part contains scrupulous figuration and indications of tasto solo, a l'ottava and Telemann-Bögen, and occasionally doubles the bass in octaves. Even if these annotations served a purely pedagogical purpose as part of Beethoven's instruction of Archduke Rudolph, as argued by H.-W. Küthen in his edition, it seems unlikely that Beethoven would use the manuscript of one of his most important works merely to teach an art which had no practical use. Beside the debate about the applicability of continuo in Classical concertos lies the question of how it was played. Some present-day scholars consider continuo to be a purely functional element of 18th-century music: the player merely plays a chord at each change of harmony, so as to complete the texture and keep the orchestra together. However, purely chordal continuo playing would contradict both the tradition of thoroughbass and the treatises of the period. Quantz and C.P.E. Bach specifically suggested that the continuo player vary the number of upper voices and improvise linear and quasi-linear music when appropriate. All thoroughbass textbooks treat voice-leading as primary, dealing not merely with the interpretation of the figures but with their contrapuntal implications. It would be as fallacious for the Classical period as for the Baroque to assume a composer to be unconcerned with a chord's qualitative presence merely because it was not written down. Notated accompaniments were unnecessary because players were able to improvise them.

Improvisation, §II, 4: Western art music: The Classical period

(ii) Vocal music.

Instructional and theoretical works came, through their sheer quantity, to assume a new importance to the student of ornamentation as the Classical period began and music publishing flourished. Some 20 comprehensive vocal methods or critical studies appeared in the period between 1763 and 1825 (after which the Rossinian revolution begins to be reflected). Many contain extensive notated examples, and these are of especial value in a period both of operatic reform and of virtuoso vocalism. The latter was cultivated with care, ambition and respect, although its extreme manifestations found cogent and persuasive detractors. Most writers on the subject discuss questions of taste and judgment, balancing the claims of composer and virtuoso; there is much thoughtful argument, and subtle differences of emphasis are found between writers. But without matching such accounts to detailed, notated examples it is impossible to determine what might have sounded restrained and what daring, still more to establish what were considered the idiomatic ways of carrying out standard ornamental procedures.

Domenico Corri is probably the most valuable single theorist as far as the provision of practical examples is concerned: he printed details of execution that were normally left unwritten, over a wide range of music; he was more reporter than advocate; and he was respected by his contemporaries. Other important writers were Giambattista Mancini, J.A. Hiller, J.B. Lasser, A.M. Pellegrini Celoni, J.F. Schubert, Giuseppe Lanza, Alexis de Garaudé, G.G. Ferrari, J.B. Rocourt, Isaac Nathan and R.M. Bacon. Annotated performance materials are plentiful but not readily accessible for study; in London, following Corri’s lead, publishers began to issue arias with embellishments and nuances indicated by small note heads, and there and in Paris arias were published showing a particular performer’s ‘realizations’ on a separate staff.

Little or no ornamentation is advised for plain recitative; Hiller (1780) stated that ornaments should be confined to occasional mordents and Pralltriller, though he accepted the need for more in scenas in accompanied recitative. J.F. Schubert advocated ‘appropriate free embellishment’ for fermatas but cautioned that this should be avoided where the word to which it would be sung made it inappropriate. In slow arias, or the slower sections of two-part rondò arias, the use of portamento was advocated by Corri, with messa di voce on longer notes, and the line might be highly graced, with appoggiaturas (single or compound) and acciaccaturas as the most common ornaments; little running passages might bridge leaps or fill out long notes, and syncopation, echo effects and division-like passages might be used. The surviving examples embellished by Mozart show the use of such devices (ex.21). Allegro arias or sections were less subject to decorative ornament, largely because of their greater speed and stricter tempo. Passing notes, appoggiaturas and the like are found, but in less profusion, and unmeasured flurries of quick notes are rare. Staccato and syncopation are sometimes used as ornamental devices, and running passages of semiquavers may be constructed on the outlines of melodies in longer note values. Hiller (1780) explained the distinction: ‘in slow and pathetic arias, slurred and drawn-out ornaments are the most appropriate, just as thrusting ones belong more to the Allegro’. In both styles, ornamentation generally involves adding notes of quicker rhythmic denomination rather than rerouting existing semiquavers into another region of the voice or simply recomposing the melodies (a practice often followed in modern revivals). Some degree of thematic variation, however, was expected in the case of an aria with a recurring theme as it reappeared.

Many complete arias survive with ornamentation attributable to specific composers or singers. The Czech composer Václav Pichl noted, in Milan in 1792, the variants sung by Luigi Marchesi in different performances of Zingarelli’s Pirro (ex.22); its opening line gives some indication of what theorists meant when they decried ornamentation that overwhelmed the original. At least eight examples were published of the decorations sung by Angelica Catalani, which were equally florid. Mozart’s preferred style of ornamentation, ascertainable from ex.21 and from his elaboration of an aria from his Lucio Silla (1772), shows a number of features: (a) the use of passing notes and other small ornaments in the first statement, increased in the repeat; (b) the standard use of appoggiaturas on feminine line endings (and often elsewhere; the speed of their resolution should be noted); (c) the variety of pace in the passage-work, with the prevailing semiquavers often enlivened by a burst of demisemiquavers or uneven groups of quick notes; (d) the tendency to use embellishment to increase the complexity and speed of figuration (as opposed to altering melodic shape or tessitura: the idea of adding ‘excitement’ through high notes seems to play no part); (e) the use of syncopation and phrasing to vary the line, and (f) the increase in elaboration as cadences are approached. In the Lucio Silla aria it is worth noting, additionally, that the wide leaps in long notes are left unornamented.

Several theorists stress the importance of exactitude and curtailment of liberties when two or more voices are singing together. Pellegrini Celoni wrote:

Duets, trios, quartets etc. must be sung as they are written, and though it is permissible to vary this or that in the solos, in the remainder it is necessary to proceed with unanimity, and to pay close attention to forte, piano and pianissimo; to smooth out, connect and separate … in concerted pieces, … appoggiaturas, trills and mordents are still permitted, but always with moderation.

Others emphasized that cadenzas for two voices or for voice with obbligato instrument (which was expected when the accompaniment featured one) must be prepared in advance and were often written out by composers. Many examples survive, among them several for the duet for Susanna and Countess Almaviva in Le nozze di Figaro and for ‘Ah perdona’ from La clemenza di Tito.

Most of the foregoing discussion applies primarily to Italian music. Outside the Italian sphere, the application of italianate style decreased in proportion to the distance of the music itself from Italian models. Germans noted approvingly (and Italians complainingly) that sophisticated German accompaniments made vocal freedom and ornamentation less appropriate. J.F. Schubert admonished that the ‘compositions of Mozart, Haydn, Cherubini and Winter will bear fewer embellishments than those of Salieri, Cimarosa, Martín and Paisiello’. French singers seem to have carried from earlier generations some of their system of well-defined and differentiated ornaments which they preferred to the bolder manifestations of italianate passage-work, and to have applied them quite liberally to the ariettes and the strophic songs in their operas. In one kind of English song, where the voice moves predominantly in octaves with the bass, it is implied by Corri that the voice did not normally break the unison to add ornamentation; the basic shape of the vocal melody is retained, but passing notes and other smaller graces might be added. These, along with the gruppetto, or turn, and portamento, seem to have been regarded more as a part of tasteful execution than as ornamentation.

Improvisation, §II, 5: Western art music: The 19th century

5. The 19th century.

(i) Instrumental music.

(ii) Vocal music.

(i) Instrumental music.

The early 19th century witnessed a meteoric rise in the popularity of improvisation and then its near-extinction post-1840 after suffering an ‘apotheosis of bad taste’ (Wangermée, 1950). The Romantic mind revelled in the spontaneous creativity of improvisation and its unique incarnation of musical genius. But improvisation also served more prosaic ends by pandering to a music-consuming bourgeoisie that craved brilliance and sensation, thus encouraging its rapid decline as trivialization threatened the artistic originality that had distinguished it in its 18th-century heyday. Other factors leading to the eradication of public improvisation included the rise of the performer as interpreter and the divorcing of composition from performance; the concomitant ascendancy of the ‘work concept’, itself inimical to the notion of music in flux so vital to improvisation; and an evolution in musical technique away from bass-orientated, syntactical structural outlines towards more melodically, generically or programmatically conceived frameworks which loosened the ‘inner thread’ (Schumann, 1854) that previously had held much extemporized music together.

In the first decades of the century, however, improvisation claimed a central role within musical culture – thanks to the pre-eminence of the piano, the instrument on which it was most commonly practised. Advances in design and construction thrust the piano on to centre stage in the concert halls of increasing importance in the era; greater virtuosity and expressivity resulted in particular from the instrument's enhanced sustaining powers, enriched timbral palette and repetition action (patented 1821). These were ruthlessly exploited by the ‘lions of the keyboard’ touring Europe, who inevitably included at least one improvisation in their concert programmes. Generally the last item to be heard, such an improvisation often featured popular melodies or operatic airs. Masters like Hummel and Liszt improvised on themes provided by the audience, partly to counter critics' charges that extempore performance was ‘little more than playing from memory’ (The Harmonicon, June 1830). Even Chopin – whose improvisations on Polish national melodies charmed audiences in Warsaw, Vienna and Paris – used this trick on occasion, once to please three clamouring princesses typical of the more private salon audiences, or Damenwelt (Moscheles, 1872), for whom improvisation was also de rigueur.

Another celebrated improviser was Beethoven, whose extemporizations, according to Czermy, were ‘brilliant and astonishing in the extreme’, ‘whether on a theme of his own choosing or on a suggested theme’ (ed. P. Badura-Skoda, 1963, trans. 1970). They generally took ‘the form of a first movement or rondo finale of a sonata’, a ‘free variation form’ or ‘a mixed form, one idea following the other as in a potpourri’ – formal procedures laid down in Czerny's own Systematische Anleitung zum Fantasieren auf dem Pianoforte (1829), perhaps the most important (certainly the most informative) improvisation treatise from the period. Others were published by the likes of Corri, Hummel and Kalkbrenner for the benefit of less skilled professionals and ‘conscientious amateurs’ (Kalkbrenner, 1849).

Czerny's treatise elucidates in turn the improvisation of preludes, cadenzas, fermatas and independent ‘works’ (fantasies, potpourris, capriccios etc.) but says little about their common characteristics. Dahlhaus (1979) argued that any improvisation – by definition spontaneous, though not necessarily original – involves the realization of one or more ‘models’, however defined. In the early 19th century, such models included chromatic bass progressions, discursive ‘nocturne’ accompaniments (usually supporting stylized vocal figuration), and harmonic sequences embellished by chord-outlining passage-work (arpeggios, scales, Rollfiguren etc.), all of which the hands might execute ‘almost without any consciousness of the mechanical operations which they perform’ (Hummel, 1881). Czerny too noted that the improviser frequently succumbs to ‘an almost subconscious and dream-like playing motion of the fingers' while nevertheless ‘adhering constantly to his plan’ (1829, trans. 1983; compare Fétis and Moscheles, 1840).

As Czerny indicated, improvisers also utilized higher-order plans refined through practice and experience to lend coherence to their extemporizing. In contrast to the simple figured-bass ‘skeletons’ (Gerippen) exemplified in C.P.E. Bach's Versuch, larger-scale improvisatory models after 1800 often comprised loose formal templates defined in thematic terms. The prevailing stile brillante offered a ready-made paradigm with its characteristic alternation between virtuoso and lyrical episodes, an approach also taken in countless ‘brilliant’ compositions by Hummel, Chopin, Liszt and lesser contemporaries. The cement binding successive phases of the occasionally sprawling improvisations that resulted from this and similar formal strategies was melodic and motivic ‘imitation’ – ‘a study of the utmost importance to a pianiste who is desirous of extemporizing’ (Kalkbrenner, 1849). Ironically, the requirement of ever-greater organic unity in improvisation hastened its demise by inhibiting an essential freedom (Dahlhaus, 1979).

Czerny insisted, however, that an improvisation, although ‘in a much freer form than a written work’, ‘must be fashioned into an organized totality as far as is necessary to remain comprehensible and interesting’ (1829, trans. 1983). Improvisations on a single theme were ‘the most difficult of all’ but could be crafted in an ‘interesting and orderly fashion’ simply by combining ‘several styles into one and the same fantasy’ (for instance, ‘Allegro’, ‘Adagio or Andantino’, ‘fugal’, ‘modulatory’, ‘lively rondo’) while avoiding ‘an eternal, wearisome, continuous repetition of the theme through all octave ranges and an irrational journeying back and forth among the keys’. A somewhat freer fantasy could be devised with several themes (the first – ‘the pillar on which all else is constructed’ – must ‘recur frequently between the remaining themes’ and again at the end); as a potpourri (a ‘combination of such themes that are already favorites of the public’); or as a capriccio (‘an arbitrary linking of individual ideas without any particular development’). Other possibilities included theme-and-variation and ‘strict, fugal’ formats.

Preludes had more practical functions than the fantasy, among others to test the instrument, establish an appropriate mood and warm up the fingers. Although mostly ‘introductory’, preludes were also improvised as links between pieces, a practice resurrected on occasion long after the demise of preluding mid-century. Typically restricted in motif and harmony, preludes might commence in a remote key but normally ended on the dominant 7th chord of the main tonality, thus resolving to the ensuing composition. Stylistic possibilities ranged from unmeasured recitative to bravura virtuosity, as demonstrated in the numerous collections published from 1810 to 1830 for both professionals and amateurs (e.g. by Hummel, Cramer, Haslinger, Moscheles and Kalkbrenner).

Recitative passages also infiltrated period compositions (for instance, Chopin's Nocturne op.32 no.1; Beethoven's Sonatas op.31 no.2, op.110), along with other improvisatory devices like cadenzas (i.e. in solo pieces) and embellishments (often vocally inspired). Ironically, the latter features lost their earlier improvisatory purpose in that cadenzas were increasingly notated by composers in concertos, while improvised embellishments (portamentos, fioriture etc.) came to be viewed as ‘concessions to bad taste’ and ‘sacrilegious violations of the spirit and letter’ of composed music (Liszt, 1837).

As for fantasies committed to paper, these reveal the evolution in the models used by improvisers even if they lack the spontaneity of live improvisation. Although dubbed a capriccio by Czerny, Beethoven's Fantasia op.77 (published 1810) amounts to a ‘Fantasy-Prelude’ preparing a theme-and-variations set with coda, this formal succession corresponding to a background bass motion (ex.23) from B/A (‘Fantasy-Prelude’) through B (theme and variations) and C (final variation) back to B (coda). This simple turning shape – recalling the structural foundation in Mozart's Fantasiak475 (see Rink, 1993) – may be typical of tonally conceived early 19th-century improvisatory models, likewise the starkly juxtaposed keys (f–f–f) in Schubert's Fantasia for piano duet d940 (1828; ex.24); the extended chain of 3rds (f–A–c–E–G–[B]–G–b–D–f–A) spanning Chopin's Fantaisie op.49 (1841); and, in Chopin's Polonaise-Fantaisie op.61 (1845–6), the linear bass ascent A–B–C–D–E uniting seemingly disparate thematic and virtuoso episodes (see Rink, 1993). In contrast, Liszt's Réminiscences de Don Juan (1841) derives structural logic through a reordering of Mozart's operatic plot: after a Grave opening intoning the Commendatore's music from Act 2 (D major) follows a lengthy theme-and-variations treatment of ‘Là ci darem la mano’ (A major), then a brilliant finale in B based on ‘Fin ch'han dal vino’ (typical of the ‘rousing, dazzling conclusions’ recommended by Czerny in longer fantasies). Liszt's dramatic conceit – whereby dissolution triumphs over virtue – controls the Fantasy, not an underlying tonal framework inherited from earlier improvisatory traditions. In contrast, his B minor Sonata (quasi una fantasia?) directly exploits tonally defined improvisatory models, a simple key progression b–D–F–b/B stabilizing the alternation between thematic and bravura passages.

The assimilation of improvisatory styles and procedures into formal composition (as shown in Liszt's Sonata) was yet another factor contributing to improvisation's decline, as the bold liberties or ‘stretched conventions’ (Carew, 1981) that once characterized it became compositional norms, thus undermining its special status. Improvisation did not however disappear altogether but became restricted to domains like organ playing, often in the ‘strict, fugal’ style described by Czerny and contemporaries. Thus pursued, its purpose was chiefly academic, although Bruckner's exceptional organ improvisations in concerts in Paris (1869) and London (1871) thrilled audiences.

Though dominated by the solo piano and, later, the organ, 19th-century improvisation was also practised by violin-piano duos (e.g. Clement and Hummel, Reményi and Brahms) and other instrumentalists, while Beethoven and Wölfl, Mendelssohn and Moscheles, and Chopin and Liszt improvised publicly on two pianos.

Improvisation, §II, 5: Western art music: The 19th century

(ii) Vocal music.

Pedagogical sources of the Romantic period tend to concentrate more on technical and physiological matters than on questions of performing practice; but the increasing publication of vocal scores provides a rich surviving body of annotated performance material. By the end of the period a far more specific and illuminating type of evidence is available in the form of sound recordings. Among many informative vocal methods may be singled out those of Lablache (for its brief, intelligent overview of ornamental practices), Duprez (for the new dramatic style and cadenzas), Garcia (the most comprehensive), Faure (valuable for the distinction between French and Italian practices) and Delle Sedie. Sieber, Lemaire and Lavoix, and Bach provided valuable stylistic information with emphasis on practices in their respective countries. There also survive, published and in manuscript, arias ‘realized’ or annotated by Rossini and Donizetti and by (or after) many of the leading singers of the time, as well as isolated ornaments by Verdi and various singers. Additional clues may be obtained from instrumental adaptations or fantasias.

In orchestrally accompanied recitative, cantabile, arioso elements and ornamental vocalization continued to be important; composers increasingly wrote the ornaments into the score. Ex.25 shows part of Tancredi’s opening recitative, as scored and then as realized by Rossini for a singer. Examination of this, along with recitative realizations by Rubini, Garcia and others, shows that the greater floridity and greater variety of note values observed in Verdi’s recitatives reflect an increase not so much in elaborateness of recitative style as in the specificity of notating it – indeed, the elaboration of execution probably decreased somewhat, in contrast to the notational practice.

The ‘aria cantabile’ continued to be the principal locus for melodic embellishment. Garcia, who is more explicit even than Domenico Corri, gives details of phrasing, dynamics and expression as well; ex.26 shows a section from one of his examples. A decrease in density of figuration across the first half of the century is easy to discern; extending the examples backwards to, say, Catalani, at the beginning of the century, and forward to the artists heard on early recordings, would show this to be a steady, continuous process.

The cabaletta, the fast final section of the aria from the time of Rossini until the dissolution of standard aria structures into the more flexible forms of the mature Verdi, consisted of a strophe, a ritornello, an exact repeat (occasionally abbreviated) and a coda whose length and complexity varied considerably. Rossini wrote to Clara Novello that ‘The repeat is made expressly that each singer may vary it, so as best to display his or her peculiar capacities’. The transitional passage from the slow section (sometimes in recitative) often concluded with a vocal flourish, which could recur between the strophes. These flourishes most often expressed a simple, unresolved dominant 7th. Surviving examples include variants by Pauline Viardot (for a pupil) for the lead-in to ‘Sempre libera’ (La traviata) and one in the role-book for Azucena used to launch ‘Deh! rallentate, o barbari’ in the French version of Il trovatore in Paris (1857).

Ornamentation in the cabaletta itself is of three kinds: elaboration of fermatas, most often at the end of each strophe or during the coda; variation of the basic stanza on repetition; and elaboration of the coda’s stock cadential sequences, whose similarity from piece to piece facilitated free improvisation. In contrast to the usual gracings of cantabile, cabaletta repeats took the form of genuine variations, freely altering the melodic shape at times. Orchestral doublings of the melodic line were often removed to facilitate ornamentation, as can be seen from numerous sets of 19th-century parts. Many examples of cabaletta variation (by Jenny Lind, Giuditta Pasta and others) survive; Rossini’s for several of his own cabalettas, and one each by Bellini and Nicolini, were published (with imperfect but decent fidelity) by Ricci.

In Rossini, Bellini and Donizetti, the coda is based on the same chord sequence observed at the end of the cantabile, but in tempo and usually with accelerating harmonic rhythm (ex.27); this portion was elaborately and freely varied. Garcia, Lanza and others give tables showing the multiple possibilities, and examples by Rossini and many singers exist. Cabalettas continued to be embellished in early Verdi (Giulia Grisi’s variations for I due Foscari survive in Rome). By the time he stopped writing them – his last orthodox solo cabaletta is in the 1863 version of La forza del destino – the repeat was commonly omitted in performance. It seems likely that cabalettas were ornamented only as long as they were repeated.

Up to, and probably throughout, Rossini’s time, the end of the coda seems to have been taken without rallentando and with a burst of florid virtuosity, often concluded in the low register. But as the excitement of the held top note gradually assumed a greater role in vocal expression, it became customary to add one just before the final note of the cabaletta while the orchestra pauses or sustains. This is sometimes found in Verdi’s scores, and occasionally earlier, although it became a universal practice only later. Increasingly, towards the end of the century, much or all of the coda was omitted; the singer proceeded from the final fermata of the strophe directly to the last few bars of coda or to the postlude. The conclusions in ex.27 clearly envisage an ending in tempo. Ex.28 shows two more cabaletta conclusions: one by Naldi, clearly ending in tempo, and one by Viardot from about 1880, showing a hold before the final note, now taken in the high register. Many sets of cabaletta variants break off at this point, suggesting a conclusion more or less as in the score or with conventionalized elaboration, and many sources that are specific about accompaniment practice (above all Garcia) show the conclusions of their cabalettas with no hint that the tempo was to be retarded.

It is clear from Rossini’s revisions of his Italian music for Paris that the norm there was less florid than in Italy (despite the fact that the Paris operas were still liberally embellished, as we know from Cinti-Damoreau and numerous other sources). The strong penetration of the Italian repertory in the 1840s and 50s by translated versions of Meyerbeer and Auber (to be followed by Gounod, Thomas and Massenet) led the way towards a simpler style of impassioned lyricism in Italian singing. Nevertheless, it was the French who maintained the old Italian skills of florid singing rigorously to the end of the century, while their Italian contemporaries had long simplified Rossini’s Otello and were beginning to do the same to the less demanding Barbiere. In Germany and eastern Europe, a tension between the dominance of Italians and emerging native styles was felt throughout the century, with the Italians essentially ranged on the side of more freedom for the soloist. By the middle of the century in Germany, and by its end throughout Europe, schools of singers had emerged as specialists in national repertory (eventually in Wagner).

Recordings provide valuable evidence on ornamentation. The first opera singer known to have made a surviving record is Peter Schram (1819–95), who in 1889 sang two excerpts from the role of Leporello into a cylinder machine; although it provides interesting testimony to the transmission of Classical music, the record has little bearing on the performance of Romantic music. Seven singers born in the 1830s, and 24 born in the 1840s, also recorded, as did several dozen born in the 1850s and 60s. This body of evidence brings the priceless opportunity to observe many aspects of vocal technique. Ornamentation was still practised, mostly by Italian singers but also by foreigners who made their careers in Italy or who became part of the budding ‘international’ scene in New York and London, and by some of the more old-fashioned artists based in France and Germany.

The ornaments are simpler and fewer than those in use earlier in the century. Most were staples of ornamental practice going back at least to the Classical period: gruppetti of four or six notes, acciaccaturas, two-note slides, and the accented reiteration of the antepenultimate note of a cadence that Garcia traces back to the castratos and that was popularized by Rubini. These ornaments were all started on the main note, even the acciaccatura: though notated with a single ‘small note’ above the main note, it was uniformly executed as what we would now call an inverted mordent (unless approached by step from below, in which case it was sometimes sung in the ‘modern’ one-note fashion). The only prominent ornament not found in earlier sources, and that seems to have developed in the second half of the century, is the extended acciaccatura figure (ex.27c); this was widely used in Verdi. French singers – less often Germans, almost never Italians – still introduced trills and executed the written ones with great clarity and elegant resolutions.

In early recordings, the preoccupation with interpolated high notes had not reached its peak; singers with good high notes often added them, but many recordings of favourite arias lack the familiar extra high notes. These, like the ‘standard’ coloratura variations of ‘Una voce poco fa’ and the Lucia Mad Scene, are mostly products of the earlier part of the 20th century, when Italian conductors and coaches set about the task of establishing more or less fixed texts for surviving Italian operas from the period of improvisation.

In addition to the continuing traditions of improvisation associated with functional music (e.g. social dance, organ playing in church), the early 20th century added a new kind, that of extempore piano accompaniment to silent films. But of course the richest new manifestation of improvised music was jazz. This had an influence on almost every composer from Debussy onwards, but not as improvisation. The first half of the 20th century was, on the contrary, a time of great emotional exactitude, except in the music of a very few composers, including Ives and Grainger, and even in their scores the performer’s freedom is limited to such matters as choice from among different versions, or how to achieve a compromise with idealistic demands. Composers’ performances of their own music (the recordings made by Stravinsky and Bartók, for example) reveal how much liberty could be taken in practice with music that looks, on paper, to be complete and precise in its requirements, but such liberty did not extend to improvisation. Where the term was used in a title (e.g. that of Bartók’s Improvisation on Hungarian Peasant Songs, 1920), it was to denote an impromptu style in music fully written out.

6. The 20th century.

The lapsing of improvisation is understandable in a musical culture that was rapidly losing those elements of common practice on which improvisation depends: the idea of extemporizing cadenzas to, for example, Schoenberg’s Violin Concerto is almost unthinkable. However, composers who abandoned traditional culture in order to make up their own ways of doing things (e.g. Partch and Cage) found themselves bound to improvise, and sometimes let their performers do so too – although Cage consistently resisted this, and preferred to have his musicians follow exacting rules if not scores. Improvisation, as a spontaneous expression of intention, was just what he wanted to avoid.

Nevertheless, his influence may have contributed to the re-emergence of improvisation in composed music during the 1960s – along with other factors including the growth of live electronic music (and hence of unpredictable situations), the development of jazz to a point where it could embrace almost everything in the contemporary classical tradition (so that the definition of a performance as ‘free jazz’ or, from the classical standpoint, ‘free improvisation’ became arbitrary), the arrival of performers who wanted to go their own ways, composers’ growing knowledge of non-European music, their extension of Aleatory procedures, and a general movement in Western culture towards democratization and universal self-expression. Yet that movement did not extend so far, or for so long. Improvisation was rapidly reaffirmed as secondary to composition, in that improvising artists (except those also known as composers, such as Vinko Globokar, La Monte Young or Terry Riley) gained no broad platform, and composers (Stockhausen, for example) soon retracted the freedom they had permitted. Once the 1960s had passed, the old division between creative and performing musicians was restored.

In the performance of older music, however, that division came increasingly under attack, as musicians pressed forward their efforts at period style. Any attempt to perform, for example, troubadour song demands some contribution from the singer, although this is more likely to be prepared in advance rather than truly improvised. The same is true of ornaments and cadenzas, which gradually, though not everywhere, came to be expected in the performance of 18th-century music. However, some musicians (such as the keyboard player Robert Levin) began in the 1980s to emulate their colleagues of two centuries’ distance in improvising cadenzas and fantasias on the spot. The revival of silent-film accompaniment at the same time might suggest an acceptance, by the musical culture, of improvisation as a reawakened historical phenomenon.

Improvisation, §II: Western art music: Bibliography

BIBLIOGRAPHY

treatises and methods

general studies

instrumental

vocal

treatises and methods

MersenneHU

V. Lusitano: Introducione facilissima et novissima de canto fermo (Rome, 1553, 3/1561/R)

G.B. Bovicelli: Regole, passaggi di musica (Venice, 1594/R); ed. in DM, 1st ser., Druckschriften-Faksimiles, xii (1957)

T. Morley: A Plaine and Easie Introduction to Practicall Musicke (London, 1597/R); ed. R.A. Harman (London, 1952, 2/1963/R)

S. Cerreto: Della prattica musicale vocale, et strumentale (Naples, 1601/R, 2/1611)

G. Caccini: Le nuove musiche (Florence, 1601/2/R); ed. in RRMBE, ix (1970)

A. Banchieri: L’organo suonarino (Venice, 1605/R1969 with selections from later edns, 4/1638)

A. Agazzari: Del sonare sopra ’l basso (Siena, 1607/R; Eng. trans. in StrunkSR1); ed. V. Gibelli (Milan, 1979)

P. Cerone: El melopeo y maestro (Naples, 1613/R)

A. Banchieri: Cartella musicale nel canto figurato fermo et contrapunto (Venice, 1614/R1968 in BMB, section 2, xxvi)

C. Simpson: The Division Violist (London, 1659, 2/1667/R as Chelys: minuritionum artificio exornata/The Division-Viol, 3/1712)

J. Millet: La belle méthode, ou L’art de bien chanter (Lyons, 1666/R1973 with introduction by A. Cohen)

B. de Bacilly: Remarques curieuses sur l’art de bien chanter (Paris, 1668, 3/1679/R; Eng. trans., 1968, as A Commentary upon the Art of Proper Singing)

J. Rousseau: Méthode claire, certaine et facile, pour apprendre à chanter la musique (Paris, 1678, 5/c1710/R)

J. Rousseau: Traité de la viole (Paris, 1687/R); Eng. trans. in The Consort, no.34 (1978), 302–11; no.36 (1980), 365–70; no.37 (1981), 402–11; no.38 (1982), 463–7

J. Mattheson: Exemplarische Organisten-Probe im Artikel vom General-Bass (Hamburg, 1719, 2/1731/R as Grosse General-Bass-Schule)

J. Mattheson: Kleine General-Bass-Schule (Hamburg, 1735/R)

M.P. de Montéclair: Principes de musique (Paris, 1736/R); Eng. trans. of section on ornamentation, RRMBE, xxix–xxx (1978)

F. Geminiani: The Art of Playing on the Violin (London, 1751/R1952 with introduction by D.D. Boyden)

J.J. Quantz: Versuch einer Anweisung die Flöte traversiere zu spielen (Berlin, 1752/R, 3/1789/R; Eng. trans., 1966, 2/1985, as On Playing the Flute)

C.P.E. Bach: Versuch über die wahre Art das Clavier zu spielen, i (Berlin, 1753/R, 3/1787/R); ii (Berlin, 1762/R, 2/1797/R); Eng. trans. (1949)

F.W. Marpurg: Anleitung zum Clavierspielen (Berlin, 1755, 2/1765/R)

L. Mozart: Versuch einer gründlichen Violinschule (Augsburg, 1756/R, 3/1787/R; Eng. trans., 1948, as A Treatise on the Fundamental Principles of Violin Playing, 2/1951/R)

J.F. Agricola: Anleitung zur Singekunst (Berlin, 1757/R) [trans., with addns, of P.F. Tosi: Opinioni de’ cantori antichi e moderni (Bologna, 1723/R)]; Eng. trans., ed. J.C. Baird (Cambridge, 1995)

J. Adlung: Anleitung zu der musikalischen Gelahrtheit (Erfurt, 1758/R, 2/1783)

J. Lacassagne: Traité général des élémens du chant (Paris, 1766/R)

J.S. Petri: Anleitung zur practischen Musik (Lauban, 1767, enlarged 2/1782/R)

G. Tartini: Regole per arrivare a saper ben suonar il violino (MS compiled by G.F. Nicolai, I-Vc); facs. of 1771 Fr. version, with commentary by E.R. Jacobi (Celle, 1961) [incl. Eng. and Ger. trans.]

J.A. Hiller: Anweisung zum musikalisch-richtigen Gesange (Leipzig, 1774, 2/1798)

J.A. Hiller: Exempel-Buch der Anweisen zum Singen (Leipzig, 1774)

V. Manfredini: Regole armoniche (Venice, 1775/R, 2/1797)

J.A. Hiller: Anweisung zum musikalisch-zierlichen Gesange (Leipzig, 1780/R)

H.C. Koch: Versuch einer Anleitung zur Composition, i (Rudolstadt, 1782); ii–iii (Leipzig, 1787–93/R)

J.C. Bach and F.P.Ricci: Méthode ou recueil de connaisances élémentaires pour le forte-piano ou clavecin (Paris, c1786/R) [attribution to Bach doubtful]

D.G. Türk: Clavierschule (Leipzig and Halle, 1789, enlarged 2/1802/R; Eng. trans., 1982)

F. Galeazzi: Elementi teorico-pratici di musica con un saggio sopra l’arte di suonare il violino analizzata, ed a dimostrabili principi ridotta, i (Rome, 1791, enlarged 2/1817); Eng. trans., ed. A. Franscarelli (DMA diss., U. of Rochester, NY, 1968); ii (Rome, 1796); Eng. trans. of pt 4, section 2, ed. G.W. Harwood (MA thesis, Brigham Young U., 1980)

J.G. Albrechtsberger: Kurzgefasste Methode den Generalbass zu erlernen (Vienna, c1791, enlarged 2/1792; Eng. trans., 1815)

J.A. Hiller: Anweisung zum Violinspielen (Leipzig, 1792)

N.J. Hüllmandel: Principles of Music, Chiefly Calculated for the Piano Forte or Harpsichord with Progressive Lessons (London, 1796)

J.P. Milchmeyer: Die wahre Art das Pianoforte zu spielen (Dresden, 1797)

C. Gervasoni: La scuola della musica (Piacenza, 1800)

C.F. Ebers: Vollständige Singschule (Mainz, c1800)

M. Clementi: Introduction to the Art of Playing on the Piano Forte (London, 1801, 11/1826)

J.P. Milchmeyer: Kleine Pianoforte-Schule für Kinder, Anfänger und Liebhaber (Dresden, 1801)

A.E.M. Grétry: Méthode simple pour apprendre à préluder en peu de temps avec toutes les ressources de l’harmonie (Paris, 1802/R)

J.F. Schubert: Neue Singe-Schule, oder Gründliche und vollständige Anweisung zur Singkunst (Leipzig, 1804)

D. Corri: The Singer’s Preceptor (London, 1810)

A.M. Pellegrini Celoni: Grammatica, o siano Regole di ben cantare (Rome, 1810, 2/1817)

P.A. Corri: Original System of Preluding (London, c1813)

J.N. Hummel: Ausführliche theoretisch-practische Anweisung zum Piano-Forte-Spiel (Vienna, 1828, 2/1838; Eng. trans., 1829)

L. Lablache: Méthode de chant (Paris, ?1829; Eng. trans., 1840)

C. Czerny: Systematische Anleitung zum Fantasieren auf dem Pianoforte, op.200 (Vienna, 1829/R); Eng. trans., ed. A.L. Mitchell (New York, 1983)

A. Calegari: Modi generali del canto (Milan, 1836)

F.-J. Fétis and I.Moscheles: Méthode des méthodes de piano (Paris, 1840/R)

M. Garcia: Traité complet de l’art du chant (Paris, 1840, 2/1851)

G.L. Duprez: L’art du chant (Paris, 1845, 2/c1850)

F. Kalkbrenner: Traité d’harmonie du pianiste: principes rationnels de la modulation pour apprendre à préluder et à improviser, op.185 (Paris, 1849; Eng. trans., 1849)

F. Sieber: Vollständiges Lehrbuch der Gesangkunst (Magdeburg, 1858, 2/1878; Eng. trans., 1872)

F. Lamperti: Guida teorico-pratica-elementare per lo studio del canto (Milan, 1865; Eng. trans., 1868)

J.-B. Faure: La voix et le chant (Paris, 1870)

E. Delle Sedie: Arte e fisiologia di canto (Milan, 1876)

E. Delle Sedie: Estetica del canto e dell’arte melodrammatico (Livorno, 1885)

Improvisation, §II: Western art music: Bibliography

general studies

BurneyFI

BurneyGN

BurneyH

HawkinsH

ReeseMMA

SchillingE

A. Maugars: Response faite à un curieux sur le sentiment de la musique d’Italie (Paris, c1640; Eng. trans. in MacClintock, 1979, and also1993); ed. J. Heuillon (Paris, 1991, 2/1992)

T. Mace: Musick’s Monument (London, 1676/R)

J.-J. Rousseau: Dictionnaire de musique (Paris, 1768/R; Eng. trans., 1771, 2/1779/R)

S. Arteaga: Le rivoluzioni del teatro musicale italiano dalla sua origine fino al presente (Bologna, 1783–8/R, 2/1785)

C. Ditters von Dittersdorf: Lebensbeschreibung (Leipzig, 1801; Eng. trans., 1896/R); ed. N. Miller (Munich, 1967)

H.C. Koch: Musikalisches Lexikon (Frankfurt, 1802/R, rev. 3/1865 by A. Dommer)

I.F. von Mosel: Versuch einer Ästhetik des musikalischen Tonsatzes (Vienna, 1813, 2/1910)

E.D. Wagner: Musikalische Ornamentik (Berlin, 1869/R)

E. Dannreuther: Musical Ornamentation (London, 1893–5)

E. Bücken: Die Musik des Rokokos und der Klassik (Potsdam, 1927)

R. Haas: Aufführungspraxis der Musik (Potsdam, 1931/R)

E.T. Ferand: Die Improvisation in der Musik (Zürich, 1938)

H. Stubington: Practical Extemporization (London, 1940)

P.C. Aldrich: The Principal Agréments of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries (diss., Harvard U., 1942)

R. Fasano: Storia degli abbellimenti musicali dal canto gregoriano a Verdi (Rome, 1949 [recte 1947])

H.-P. Schmitz: Die Kunst der Verzierung im 18. Jahrhundert (Kassel, 1955, 4/1983)

R. Steglich: ‘Das Auszierungswesen in der Musik W.A. Mozarts’, MJb 1955, 181–237

E.T. Ferand: Die Improvisation in Beispielen aus neun Jahrhunderten abendländischer Musik, Mw, xi (1956, 2/1961; Eng. trans., 1961)

E.T. Ferand: ‘What is res facta?’, JAMS, x (1957), 141–50

W. Georgii: Die Verzierung in der Musik: Theorie und Praxis (Zürich and Freiburg, 1957)

W. Tappolet: ‘Einige prinzipielle Bemerkungen zur Frage der Improvisation’, IMSCR VII: Cologne 1958, 287–8

F.-H. Neumann: Die Ästhetik des Rezitativs (Strasbourg, 1962)

R. Donington: The Interpretation of Early Music (London, 1963, 4/1989)

A. Geoffroy-Dechaume: Les ‘secrets’ de la musique ancienne (Paris, 1964/R)

E.T. Ferand: ‘Didactic Embellishment Literature in the Late Renaissance: a Survey of Sources’, Aspects of Medieval and Renaissance Music: a Birthday Offering to Gustave Reese, ed. J. LaRue and others (New York, 1966/R), 154–72

W. Dürr: foreword to Franz Schubert: Lieder, Neue Ausgabe sämtlicher Werke, iv/1–2 (Kassel, 1968)

A. Geoffroy-Dechaume: ‘Du problème actuel de l'appogiature ancienne’, L’interprétation de la musique française aux XVIIème et XVIIIème siècles: Paris 1969, 87–105

E. Melkus: ‘Die Entwicklung der freien Auszierung im 18. Jahrhundert’, Der junge Haydn: Graz 1970, 147–67

M. Cyr: ‘A Seventeenth-Century Source of Ornamentation for Voice and Viol: British Museum MS. Egerton 1971’, RMARC, no.9 (1971), 53–72

C. Rosen: The Classical Style: Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven (New York, 1971, enlarged 3/1997) [incl. CD]

H.M. Brown: Embellishing Sixteenth-Century Music (London, 1976)

E. Derr: ‘Zur Zierpraxis im späten 18. Jahrhundert’, ÖMz, xxxii (1977), 8–16

J.C. Veilhan: Les règles de l’interprétation musicale à l’époque baroque (Paris, 1977; Eng. trans., 1979)

M. Morrow: ‘Musical Performance and Authenticity’, EMc, vi (1978), 233–46

F. Neumann: Ornamentation in Baroque and Post-Baroque Music (Princeton, NJ, 1978, 3/1983)

J.E. Smiles: ‘Directions for Improvised Ornamentation in Italian Method Books of the Late Eighteenth Century’, JAMS, xxxi (1978), 495–509

C. MacClintock, ed.: Readings in the History of Music in Performance (Bloomington, IN, 1979)

R. Donington: Baroque Music: Style and Performance (London, 1982)

F. Neumann: Essays in Performance Practice (Ann Arbor, 1982)

P. Alperson: ‘On Musical Improvisation’, Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, xliii (1984–5), 17–30

F. Neumann: Ornamentation and Improvisation in Mozart (Princeton, NJ, 1986)

J. Spitzer and N. Zaslaw: ‘Improvised Ornamentation in Eighteenth-Century Orchestras’, JAMS, xxxix (1986), 524–77

P. Lescat: Méthodes et traités musicaux en France 1600–1800 (Paris, 1991)

M. Cyr: Performing Baroque Music (Portland, OR, 1992)

B. Dickey: ‘Ornamentation in Early-Seventeenth-Century Italian Music’, A Performer’s Guide to Seventeenth-Century Music, ed. S. Carter (New York, 1997), 245–68

S. Feisst: Der Begriff Improvisation in der neuen Musik (Sinzig, 1997)

Improvisation, §II: Western art music: Bibliography

instrumental

ApelG

F. Liszt: ‘Lettres d'un bachelier ès musique’, RGMP, iv (1837), 97–110

R. Schumann: Gesammelte Schriften über Musik und Musiker (Leipzig, 1854/R, rev. 5/1914/R by M. Kreisig; Eng. trans., 1977–80; selective Eng. trans., 1946/R)

C. Moscheles, ed.: Aus Moscheles’ Leben (Leipzig, 1872–3; Eng. trans., 1873)

‘Johann Nepomuk Hummel on Extemporaneous Performance’, MMR, xi (1881), 214–15

C. Reinecke: Zur Wiederbelebung der Mozart’schen Clavier-Concerte (Leipzig, 1891)

H. Schenker: Ein Beitrag zur Ornamentik als Einführung zu Ph. Em. Bachs Klavierwerken (Vienna, 1903, 2/1908/R; Eng. trans. in Music Forum, iv, 1976, 11–140)

A. Schering: ‘Zur instrumentalen Verzierungskunst im 18. Jahrhundert’, SIMG, vii (1905–6), 365–85

J. Chantavoine, ed.: F. Liszt: Pages romantiques (Paris, 1912)

J.P. Dunn: Ornamentation in the Works of Frederick Chopin (London, 1921/R)

A.M. Richardson: Extempore Playing (New York, 1922)

M. Pincherle: ‘De l'ornementation des sonates de Corelli’ Feuillets d'histoire du violon (Paris, 1927), 133–43; (2/1935)

F.T. Arnold: The Art of Accompaniment from a Thorough-Bass (London, 1931/R)

M. Rinaldi: Il problema degli abbellimenti nell'op. V di Corelli (Siena, 1947)

P. Aldrich: ‘Bach's Technique of Transcription and Improvised Ornamentation’, MQ, xxxv (1949), 26–35

P. Aldrich: Ornamentation in J.S. Bach’s Organ Works (New York, 1950/R)

R. Wangermée: ‘L'improvisation pianistique au début du XIXe siècle’, Miscellanea musicologica Floris van der Mueren (Ghent, 1950), 227–53

A. Kreutz: ‘Ornamentation in J.S. Bach's Keyboard Works’, HMYB, vii (1952), 358–79

W. Emery: Bach’s Ornaments (London, 1953/R)

E. Badura-Skoda: ‘Über die Anbringung von Auszierungen in den Klavierwerken Mozarts’, MJb 1957, 186–98

E. and P. Badura-Skoda: Mozart-Interpretation (Vienna, 1957; Eng. trans., 1962/R, as Interpreting Mozart on the Keyboard)

A. Gottron: ‘Wie spielte Mozart die Adagios seiner Klavierkonzerte?’, Mf, xiii (1960), 334 only

I. Horsley: ‘The Sixteenth-Century Variation and Baroque Counterpoint’, MD, xiv (1960), 159–65

P. Aldrich: ‘On the Interpretation of Bach's Trills’, MQ, xlix (1963), 289–310

P. Badura-Skoda, ed.: Carl Czerny: Über den richtigen Vortrag der sämtlichen Beethoven’schen Klavierwerke (Vienna, 1963; Eng. trans., 1970)

F. Neumann: ‘A New Look at Bach's Ornamentation’, ML, xlvi (1965), 4–15, 126–33

G. Rose: ‘Agazzari and the Improvising Orchestra’, JAMS, xviii (1965), 382–93

P. Badura-Skoda: Kadenzen, Eingänge und Auszierungen zu Klavierkonzerten von Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Kassel, 1967)

S. Jeans: ‘English Ornamentation of the 16th to 18th Centuries (Keyboard Music)’, Music antiqua: Brno II 1967, 128–36

K. Polk: Flemish Wind Bands in the Late Middle Ages: a Study of Improvisatory Instrumental Practices (diss., U. of California, Berkeley, 1968)

P. Schleuning: Die Fantasie, Mw, xlii–xliii (1971; Eng. trans., 1971)

D. Boyden: ‘Corelli's Solo Violin Sonatas “Grac'd” by Dubourg’, Festskrift Jens Peter Larsen, ed. N. Schiørring, H. Glahn and C.E. Hatting (Copenhagen, 1972), 113–25

M.C. Bradshaw: The Origin of the Toccata, MSD, xxviii (1972)

M. Collins: ‘In Defense of the French Trill’, JAMS, xxvi (1973), 405–39

C.R. Suttoni: Piano and Opera: a Study of the Piano Fantasies Written on Opera Themes in the Romantic Era (diss., New York U., 1973)

Zu Fragen des Instrumentariums, der Besetzung und Improvisation in der ersten Hälfte des 18. Jahrhunderts: Blankenburg, Harz, 1975

H.J. Marx: ‘Some Unknown Embellishments of Corelli's Violin Sonatas’, MQ, lxi (1975), 65–76

H.G. Mishkin: ‘Incomplete Notation in Mozart's Piano Concertos’, MQ, lxi (1975), 345–59

D.A. Lee: ‘Some Embellished Versions of Sonatas by Franz Benda’, MQ, lxii (1976), 58–71

B.B. Mather and D.R.G.Lasocki: Free Ornamentaion in Woodwind Music, 1700–1775 (New York, 1976)

C. Wolff: ‘Zur Chronologie der Klavierkonzert-Kadenzen Mozarts’, Mozart und seine Umwelt: Salzburg 1976 [MJb 1978–9], 235–46

C. Pond: ‘Ornamental Style and the Virtuoso: Solo Bass Viol Music in France c1680–1740’, EMc, vi (1978), 512–18

Zu Fragen der Improvisation in der Instrumentalmusik der ersten Hälfte des 18. Jahrhunderts: Blankenburg, Harz, 1979

C. Dahlhaus: ‘Was heisst Improvisation?’, Improvisation und neue Musik: Darmstadt 1979, 9–23

T. Mulhern: ‘Improvisational Avant-Garde Guitar: its History, its Proponents, its Future’, Guitar Player, xiii (1979), 36–8, 118 only, 120–22

I. Poniatowska: ‘Improwizacja fortepianowa w okresie romantyzmu’ [Piano improvisation in the Romantic age], Szkice o kulturze muzycznej XIX. wieku, ed. Z. Chechlińska, iv (Warsaw, 1980), 7–28

D. Carew: An Examination of the Composer/Performer Relationship in the Piano Style of J.N. Hummel (diss., U. of Leicester, 1981)

R. Hudson: Passacaglio and Ciaccona: from Guitar Music to Italian Keyboard Variations in the 17th Century (Ann Arbor, 1981)

L.F. Ferguson: ‘Col Basso’ and ‘Generalbass’ in Mozart’s Keyboard Concertos: Notation, Performance, Theory, and Practice (diss., Princeton U., 1983)

J. Paras: The Music for Viola Bastarda (Bloomington, IN, 1986)

J. Pressing: ‘Improvisation: Methods and Models’, Generative Processes in Music: the Psychology of Performance, Improvisation, and Composition, ed. J.A. Sloboda (Oxford, 1988), 129–78

T. Szász: ‘Figured Bass in Beethoven's “Emperor” Concerto: Basso Continuo or Orchestral Cues?’, Early Keyboard Journal, vi–vii (1988–9), 5–71

I. Cavallini: ‘Sugli improvvisatori del Cinque–Seicento: persistenze, nuovi repertori e qualche riconoscimento’, Recercare, i (1989), 23–40

J.S. Rink: The Evolution of Chopin’s ‘Structural Style’ and its Relation to Improvisation (diss., U. of Cambridge, 1989)

R.E. Seletsky: Improvised Variation Sets for Short Dance Movements, circa 1680–1800, Exemplified in Period Sources for Corelli’s Violin Sonatas, opus 5 (DMA diss., Cornell U., 1989) [see also idem, EMc, xxiv (1996), 119–30]

J.S. Rink: ‘Schenker and Improvisation’, JMT, xxxvii (1993), 1–54

T. Szász: ‘Beethoven's Basso Continuo: Notation and Performance’, Performing Beethoven, ed. R. Stowell (Cambridge, 1994), 1–22

V.W. Goertzen: ‘By Way of Introduction: Preluding by 18th- and Early 19th-Century Pianists’, JM, xiv (1996), 299–337

N. Zaslaw: ‘Ornaments for Corelli's Violin Sonatas, opus 5’, EMc, xxiv (1996), 95–115

H.D. Johnstone: ‘Yet More Ornaments for Corelli's Violin Sonatas, op.5’, EMc, xxiv (1996), 623–33

Improvisation, §II: Western art music: Bibliography

vocal

GroveO (‘Ornamentation’; A.V. Jones, W. Crutchfield) [incl. further bibliography]

P.F. Tosi: Opinioni de’ cantori antichi e moderni (Bologna, 1723/R; Eng. trans., 1742, 2/1743/R, as Observations on the Florid Song)

G. Mancini: Pensieri e riflessioni pratiche sopra il canto figurato (Vienna, 1774, 2/1777; Eng. trans., 1967)

T. Lemaire and H.Lavoix: Le chant: ses principes et son histoire (Paris, 1881)

A.B. Bach: On Musical Education and Voice Culture (Edinburgh, 1883, 5/1898)

M. Kuhn: Die Verzierungs-Kunst in der Gesangs-Musik des 16.–17. Jahrhunderts (1535–1650) (Leipzig, 1902/R)

H. Goldschmidt: Die Lehre von der vokalen Ornamentik (Berlin-Charlottenburg, 1907/R)

A. Della Corte, ed.: Canto e bel canto (Turin, 1933)

L. Ricci: Variazioni, cadenze, tradizioni per canto (Milan, 1937)

I. Horsley: ‘Improvised Embellishment in the Performance of Renaissance Polyphonic Music’, JAMS, iv (1951), 3–19

E.T. Ferand: ‘Improvised Vocal Counterpoint in the Late Renaissance and Early Baroque’, AnnM, iv (1956), 129–74

A. Heriot: The Castrati in Opera (London, 1956/R)

V. Duckles: ‘Florid Embellishment in English Song of the Late 16th and Early 17th Centuries’, AnnM, v (1957), 329–45

E.F. Schmid: ‘Joseph Haydn und die vokale Zierpraxis seiner Zeit, dargestellt an einer Arie seines Tobias-Oratoriums’, Konferenz zum Andenken Joseph Haydns: Budapest 1959, 117–30

D. Bartha and L. Somfai, eds.: Haydn als Opernkapellmeister (Budapest, 1960); corrected and updated in New Looks at Italian Opera: Essays in Honor of Donald J. Grout, ed. W.W. Austin (Ithaca, NY, 1968), 172–219

C. Mackerras: ‘Sense about the Appoggiatura’, Opera, xiv (1963), 669–78

A.B. Caswell: The Development of Seventeenth-Century French Vocal Ornamentation and its Influence upon Late Baroque Ornamentation Practice (diss., U. of Minnesota, 1964)

K. Wichmann: Der Ziergesang und die Ausführung der Appoggiatura (Leipzig, 1966)

E. Melkus: ‘Zur Auszierung der Da-capo-Arien in Mozarts Werken’, MJb 1968–70, 159–85

W. Dean: ‘Vocal Embellishment in a Handel Aria’, Studies in Eighteenth-Century Music: a Tribute to Karl Geiringer, ed. H.C.R. Landon and R.E. Chapman (New York and London, 1970), 151–9; rev. in W. Dean: Essays on Opera (Oxford, 1990), 22–9

H.C. Wolff: Die Oper, ii, Mw, xxxix (1971; Eng. trans., 1971)

H.C. Wolff: Originale Gesangsimprovisation des 16. bis 18. Jahrhunderts, Mw, xli (1972; Eng. trans., 1972)

A.B. Caswell: ‘Mme Cinti-Damoreau and the Embellishment of Italian Opera in Paris, 1820–1845’, JAMS, xxviii (1975), 459–92

D.H. Till: English Vocal Ornamentation, 1600–1660 (diss., U. of Oxford, 1975)

G. Buelow: ‘A Lesson in Operatic Performance Practice by Madame Faustina Bordoni’, A Musical Offering: Essays in Honor of Martin Bernstein, ed. E.H. Clinkscale and C. Brook (New York, 1977), 79–96

A. Ransome: ‘Towards an Authentic Vocal Style and Technique in Late Baroque Performance’, EMc, vi (1978), 417–18

W. Dürr: ‘Schubert and Johann Michael Vogl: a Reappraisal’, 19CM, iii (1979–80), 126–40

M. Cyr: ‘Eighteenth-Century French and Italian Singing: Rameau's Writing for the Voice’, ML, lxi (1980), 318–37

F. Neumann: ‘Vorschlag und Appoggiatur in Mozarts Rezitativ’, MJb 1980–83, 363–84

M. Cyr: ‘Performing Rameau's Cantatas’, EMc, xi (1983), 480–89

W. Crutchfield: ‘Vocal Ornamentation in Verdi: the Phonographic Evidence’, 19CM, vii (1983–4), 3–54

G. Durosoir: L’air de cour en France, 1571–1655 (Liège, 1991)

J.W. Hill: ‘Training a Singer for Musica Recitativa in Early Seventeenth-Century Italy: the Case of Baldassare’, Musicologia humana: Studies in Honor of Warren and Ursula Kirkendale, ed. S. Gmeinwieser, D. Hiley and J. Riedlbauer (Florence, 1994), 345–57

E. van Tassel: ‘“Something Utterly New”: Listening to Schubert's Lieder, i: Vogl and the Declamatory Style’, EMc, xxv (1997), 702–14

For further bibliography see Cadenza; Continuo; and Performing practice.

Improvisation

III. Jazz.

2. Solo and collective improvisation.

3. Improvisation and form.

4. Techniques and procedures.

5. Intangible elements.

Improvisation is generally regarded as the principal element of jazz since it offers the possibilities of spontaneity, surprise, experiment and discovery, without which most jazz would be devoid of interest. Almost all styles of jazz leave some room for improvisation – whether a single chorus or other short passage during which a soloist may improvise over an accompaniment, a sequence of choruses for different soloists, or the entire piece after the statement of a theme – and some jazz is spontaneously created without the use of a predetermined framework (see §3 below). Improvisation is the defining characteristic of much of New Orleans jazz and its related styles, some big-band music, nearly all small-group swing, most bop, modal jazz, free jazz and some jazz-rock.

1. Introduction.

It is, however, demonstrably untrue that all jazz must involve improvisation. Many pieces that are unquestionably classifiable as jazz are entirely composed before a performance, and take the form of an arrangement, either fixed in notation or thoroughly memorized by the players; this approach to jazz is characteristic of much music for big band, notably that of Duke Ellington, extended works that combine elements of jazz and Western art music (see Progressive jazz and Third stream), and much jazz-rock.

Since improvisation is by nature evanescent, its study poses certain obvious difficulties. The principal medium for the preservation of jazz is the recording, and most of the observations made about jazz improvisation result from repeated listening to recorded performances. In many cases, however, scholars and musicians have made transcriptions from recordings in order the better to be able to examine or reproduce jazz works.

The element of improvisation in jazz is sometimes described in terms of the relationship between the members of the ensemble. Generally speaking, attention is concentrated on individual musicians, who, in the succession of choruses (statements of and variations on a theme) that make up the most common form of jazz performance, play (or ‘take’) solos; a solo normally consists of a single chorus or a continuous succession of choruses during which the player improvises on the harmonies (maybe also to a greater or lesser degree the melody) of the theme, while some or all of the other musicians provide an accompaniment. The terms ‘solo’, ‘to play a solo’, and ‘soloist’ are therefore often used as synonyms for ‘improvisation’, ‘to improvise’, and ‘improviser’. This conflation of meanings can, however, be misleading: not all solos are improvised and not all improvisations are played by soloists. For example, the accompaniment played by some or all of the ensemble while a soloist improvises may itself to some extent be improvised: in jazz that contains no element of written arrangement the musicians are restricted, if at all, only by the fixed chord sequence and metric structure of the theme, and each may elaborate the harmonies and rhythms at will, as is appropriate to each performer’s role within the ensemble. In such a context it is the nature of the improvisation – the freedom of invention, virtuosity and ornamental elaboration allowed by the player’s function – and not the mere fact of improvising that distinguishes the soloist from the accompanists.

2. Solo and collective improvisation.

The degree to which an accompaniment is improvised increases as the framework on which a piece is based becomes less and less rigidly fixed. In a performance by a big band, for example, the accompanists often play from written arrangements and only the soloist is free to improvise; in a bop quartet, playing without music but working on an existing theme, the members of the ensemble have considerable freedom in the choice of harmonies and rhythms; in modal jazz the confines are those of a scale or a general tonal area; in free jazz the restrictions are fewer still, the style being characterized chiefly by the lack of fixed elements such as tonality, chord sequences and metre.

The use of the term ‘collective improvisation’ is related to the concepts of soloist and accompanists. Where these functions are sharply differentiated the term is not normally used, even though all or most of the players may be improvising more or less freely. It is commonly applied in contexts where some or all members of a group participate in simultaneous improvisation of equal or comparable ‘weight’, for example New Orleans jazz (in which it is used chiefly of reeds and brass) and its related styles, and free jazz; it does not preclude the presence of a soloist but it implies a degree of equality between all the players in the ensemble.

The interaction of fixed and free elements in jazz may be examined not only in terms of the functions of different players but also in terms of structures or forms. Almost all jazz consists of a combination of predetermined and improvised elements, though the proportion of one to the other differs markedly.

3. Improvisation and form.

In all periods of jazz history there may be found examples of pieces in which improvisation is allowed only a minor role; commonly a soloist improvises a brief interlude or a single chorus in an otherwise rigidly fixed context. The majority of instances are found among performances by those big bands of the swing era that had few or no distinguished improvisers and which therefore favoured a repertory of written arrangements; the improvisations allowed in these scores are short passages, which are not the main attraction of the performance. For example, in the second chorus of Charlie Barnet’s Cherokee (1939, Bb 10373) the pianist Bill Miller improvises softly beneath the ensemble, but the only principal soloist in the piece is Barnet himself, playing tenor saxophone. After presenting, in the first chorus, a slightly ornamented version of the first half of the 64-bar theme in AABA form, he improvises during the second a section of the second chorus a rhythmically stiff melody, which consists of a simple blues riff, slightly altered in the repetitions, a quotation of the military call ‘reveille’ and a variation on it, and a brief variation on a riff familiar from Count Basie’s One o’Clock Jump. Barnet’s improvisation here is much less interesting than the complex melody composed by Billy May for the trumpet section at the end of the first chorus of the piece, which has more of the character of an improvised swing melody; nor does it rival the main attraction of the performance – the delicate riffs traded among sections of the band. The reason why Barnet takes a solo is partly because he is the bandleader but more importantly because, as a result of Coleman Hawkins’s overwhelming influence, big bands of the swing era mostly included an improvising tenor saxophone soloist who imitated Hawkins’s sound (as Barnet did).

By far the majority of pieces of jazz involve variations on an existing theme, such as a popular song, the blues progression or a newly composed piece. Two statements of the theme in a more or less fixed form customarily frame a series of variations, several or all of which involve improvisation by a soloist or soloists over an accompaniment supplied by the ensemble. The freedom with which the theme is treated varies from piece to piece and according to the style of the players; indeed, the main reason for the popularity of this form is that it offers so adaptable a scheme within which improvisatory skills can be explored.

The fertility of invention of the greatest improvisers may be gauged by the variety of possibilities they find in a single theme chosen again and again as the basis for a performance. For example, the popular song What is this thing called love?, a 32-bar theme in AABA form, has served as the basis for numerous improvisations by distinguished players. A version for solo piano by James P. Johnson (1930, Bruns. 4712) in the stride style includes sharp contrasts between thundering bass notes and tinkling treble melodies, and incorporates passages of boogie-woogie playing. Norman Granz’s Jam Session no.2 (1952, Clef 4002) presents a performance that consists of an informal succession of 26 choruses of individual swing and bop improvisations by Oscar Peterson, Flip Phillips, Charlie Shavers, Johnny Hodges, Barney Kessel, Benny Carter, Ben Webster, Charlie Parker, Peterson again, and Ray Brown, followed by three choruses during which the soloists ‘trade fours’ (take turns at playing four-bar solo phrases). The rendering by the trio of Bill Evans on the album Portrait in Jazz (1959, Riv. 1162) is devoted primarily to Evans’s bop piano playing, but also includes improvisations by the double bass player Scott LaFaro (one and a half choruses) and the drummer Paul Motian (half a chorus). A lengthy, radically altered version, retitled What Love, on the album Charles Mingus Presents Charles Mingus (1960, Candid 9005) includes improvisations by Ted Curson and Eric Dolphy (who both combine characteristics of bop and free-jazz playing), an unaccompanied solo by Mingus, and a hilarious improvised ‘conversation’ between Mingus’s double bass and Dolphy’s bass clarinet. A much later performance is recorded by the singer Bobby McFerrin accompanied on piano by Herbie Hancock on the album The Other Side of Round Midnight (1985, BN 85135).

The completely spontaneous creation of new forms by means of free improvisation, independent of an existing framework, is rarer in jazz than might be expected, not least because where two or more musicians play together, no matter how intimately they know one another’s work, some agreed decisions about the progress of a piece are normally necessary. Free jazz often gives the impression that musicians follow their inspiration and invention, reacting to and interacting with one another from moment to moment; but, as Eberhard Jost has demonstrated by means of detailed analyses of recordings, free-jazz performances may be as dependent on themes as other styles of jazz, though the themes and the way they are treated are often of unusual character. Even where no theme is used, certain prearranged schemes, such as the sequence in which soloists should play and the signals by which players will communicate decisions, are usually followed.

Two of Jost’s analyses provide good examples of the kinds of formal determinant present in free-jazz performances. In discussing Cecil Taylor’s difficult and largely spontaneously created piece Unit Structures on the album of the same name (1966, BN 84237) Jost supplies a running commentary, detailing textural contrasts, delineating whenever possible the roles of the instruments (e.g. ‘one double bass player plays pizzicato in the low register, the other arco in the high register’), transcribing brief themes and motifs, and noting the ‘soloists’ who in turn come to the fore during the collective improvisation that is central to the piece. On the two takes of John Coltrane’s Ascension (1965, both issued, at different times, as Imp. 95) Jost identifies the succession of soloists whose improvisations alternate with passages of collective improvisation; he describes several recurring modal areas, which provide a loose underpinning for each solo, and exposes Coltrane's technique of holding pitches to signal a movement from one modal area to another. Such factors do not compromise the extraordinary originality and creativity of free-jazz performances; rather they call attention to the necessary limits of spontaneity. An entirely spontaneous improvisation might well be incoherent.

Although no two jazz improvisations ever evolve in exactly the same way, certain techniques and procedures may be identified as common or even standard. For the purposes of description they may be regarded as falling roughly into three categories, though in practice a player may use several or even all in the course of a single improvisation, often overlaying one with another. Paraphrase improvisation is the ornamental variation of a theme or some part of it, which remains recognizable. Formulaic improvisation is the building of new material from a diverse body of fragmentary ideas. And motivic improvisation is the building of new material through the development of a single fragmentary idea. The last two types may be developed either in response to or independently of a theme.

4. Techniques and procedures.

(i) Paraphrase improvisation.

This may be melodic or harmonic. Melodic paraphrase is a crucial procedure in jazz. It is heard in any piece based on a tuneful theme, especially in early jazz, swing, jazz-rock and performances in any style based on ballads, but regularly in other contexts as well. The paraphrasing of the melody may be no more complex than the introduction of a few ornamental flourishes into an otherwise faithful repetition of the original tune, but at its most inventive it may involve a highly imaginative reworking of the melody, which remains recognizable only by its outline or the preservation of certain distinctive turns of phrase or figure. The underlying harmonic structure, which in jazz is the element that chiefly identifies a theme, remains essentially unchanged, though that too may be subjected to local alteration and embellishment. This may be termed harmonic paraphrase, the ornamentation of the harmony of the theme or some part of it. The chord progressions of American popular songs are not immutably fixed: the copyrighted version of a song is usually simplified, and versions transcribed in fake books (collections of scores used by performers: some are published and distributed ‘informally’ and illegally break restrictions on copyrighted material) normally disagree in numerous cases about the identity of individual chords.

(ii) Use of motifs and formulae.

Where paraphrase improvisation is not used, attention is commonly focussed on musical fragments used in various ways. The fragments may be called variously and often interchangeably ‘ideas’, ‘figures’, ‘gestures’, ‘formulae’, ‘motifs’, and so on; in jazz parlance they are often referred to as ‘licks’ and in early jazz specifically as ‘hot licks’. Substantial differences of technique and procedure lie not in the structure or character of the fragments as they stand alone but rather in the ways in which they are combined and manipulated in improvisation. For the sake of clarity the word ‘motif’ is used here in the discussion of motivic improvisation, and ‘formula’ in the discussion of formulaic improvisation.

The fragmentary ideas used in jazz are usually distinguished by rhythmic and intervallic shape and can seldom be described as melodic in the tuneful sense, though they provide the material on which most of the players in the ensemble improvise; their tempo, outline, tonal implications and so on are determined by stylistic conventions, so that an idea used in free jazz will be different in nature from one used in jazz-rock. The introduction of a new fragment or new stages in its development occur in response to a particular context (a certain tempo or key change, for example), determined by the players in advance or enshrined in the conventions of the style. In some types of jazz in which the form of the piece is built up from fragments, most notably jazz-rock, a foundation is often supplied by an ostinato, a short phrase strongly stating (on chordal instruments) or implying (on melodic ones) a sequence of harmonies, which is repeated virtually unchanged by the bass instrument.

(iii) Formulaic improvisation.

The principal manifestation of the fragmentary idea in jazz is in formulaic improvisation. This is the most common kind of improvisation in jazz, spanning all styles. In formulaic improvisation (a concept borrowed from studies of epic poetry and Western ecclesiastical chant) many diverse formulae intertwine and combine within continuous lines; particular musicians and groups often create a repertory of formulae (their ‘licks’) and draw on it in many different pieces. The essence of formulaic improvisation is that the formulae used do not call attention to themselves, but are artfully hidden, through variation, in the improvised lines; the challenge presented by this type of improvisation is to mould diverse fragments into a coherent whole.

Formulaic improvisation may be based on a theme, the rhythmic and harmonic structure of which remains inviolate in terms of metre, phrase lengths, tonal relationships and principal harmonic goals. But the way in which the theme is treated is altogether freer than melodic paraphrase; the harmonies are often considerably varied, by the use of altered and substituted chords and extended harmonies, while above the repetitions of the harmonic structure new lines are improvised.

The greatest formulaic improviser in jazz was undoubtedly Charlie Parker. Owens has identified a central repertory of about 100 fragments which Parker works and reworks with astonishing facility. In a piece such as Koko (1945, Savoy 597), based on the theme Cherokee, a surprising amount of formulaic material recurs within the brief solo; given the great speed at which the solo proceeds and the artful way in which Parker re-uses material the repetitions are hardly noticeable.

Where formulaic improvisation is not linked to a theme it may be founded on the imitation of established performers, on the collective invention of members of a group working together, or on the individual’s own explorations. The procedure may be detected in music as difficult as Albert Ayler’s free-jazz improvisations from 1964, in which recurring formulae – leaps over wide intervals, rapid, unmeasured, sweeping lines of undistinguished pitches, freely placed, vocalistic exclamations in extreme high or low registers – provide a basis for improvised lines. By comparison with the types of formula that are normally played in response to a familiar theme, such gestures as Ayler’s may seem highly distinctive and hardly in accord with the idea that the essence of formulaic improvisation is to disguise the presence of the formulae: however, in the context of a free-jazz performance such sounds are characteristic rather than distinctive, and the formulae are both difficult to hear precisely and sometimes impossible to transcribe. Hence in formulaic improvisation, regardless of the style, sustained accomplishment may be measured in terms of the improviser’s ability to avoid turning formulae into clichés.

(iv) Motivic improvisation.

In motivic improvisation one or more motifs (but never more than a few) form the basis for a section of a piece, an entire piece, or a group of related pieces. The motif is developed or varied through such processes as ornamentation, transposition, rhythmic displacement, diminution, augmentation and inversion. Unlike those used in formulaic improvisation, musical ideas in this type of improvisation call attention to themselves by the way in which they are treated, and indeed they must be recognized and followed through a piece or section if the music is to be properly appreciated; the difficulty here lies not in disguising the motif but in avoiding both trivial restatement and variations that effectively obscure its character. The most commonly occurring form of motivic improvisation is that in which a single motif forms the basis of a piece or section, but sometimes two or three motifs are used simultaneously, and elsewhere one motif follows another by a process of chain reaction, each being varied until it is transformed into the next. Fine examples occur in Coltrane’s solo on So What from Miles Davis’s album Kind of Blue (1959, Col. CL1355) and on the title track (1961) of Coltrane’s album Impressions (1961–3, Imp. 42).

In some pieces motivic procedures are applied not to freely invented material but to a motif or series of motifs drawn from a theme stated at the outset; this subcategory of motivic improvisation may be termed thematic improvisation, though the derivation of a motif from the theme is generally incidental and merely convenient rather than structurally significant. Thematic improvisation is regularly mentioned in jazz literature in connection with the music of Sonny Rollins, but it has scarcely any meaning for Rollins's work (for further discussion see Rollins, Sonny). It is a more appropriate concept in some free jazz, where musicians develop fragments of thematic material in ways that cannot be construed as melodic paraphrase. Examples include Albert Ayler’s deconstruction of the theme in early versions of Ghosts recorded in 1964 (on the albums Spiritual Unity, ESP 1002, and Ghosts, Debut 144) and Don Cherry’s and Gato Barbieri’s improvisations on Cherry’s album Complete Communion (1965, BN 84226).

Before the late 1950s, motivic improvisation occurred in jazz far less often than either paraphrase or formulaic improvisation. The reasons are clear: until that time a jazz improvisation was expected to accord with an underlying theme; the given theme usually involves a functional progression, which moves at the rate of one, two or four chords per bar; the improvisation itself often moves along quickly. Given these conditions it is extremely difficult to develop a motif systematically without stumbling. Hence among the greatest improvisers in early, swing and bop styles, perhaps only three players consistently utilized motivic techniques: Benny Carter, Count Basie and Thelonious Monk (see also Lewis, John).

From the late 1950s new styles have provided a more suitable framework within which motivic improvisation can occur, and it has become more regularly used, rivalling paraphrase and formulaic improvisation in importance. On the one hand free jazz has discarded the characteristic themes of previous styles in favour of ad hoc structures, and, on the other, modal jazz, jazz-rock and other fusions of jazz and popular music have discarded them in favour of simple drones or ostinatos. In all cases improvisers, freed from the need to follow a fast-moving chord progression, have been able to give greater attention to motivic improvisation. Furthermore the repetition and development of motifs provides an element of coherence and stability, which in a sense fill the same role as a conventional theme.

(v) Interrelated techniques.

The ways in which the different procedures of improvisation are combined can be complex and constantly changing. Different members of an ensemble may simultaneously employ several improvisatory techniques, or a keyboard player may employ one in the right hand and another in the left (as Wilson does). In a bop quartet's performance of a popular song, for example, the saxophonist might paraphrase the theme and then invent a new, fast-moving formulaic melody, while the pianist maintains the harmonic structure, though with his own local variations, the double bass player creates a formulaic walking bass line from the given harmony, moving in crotchets, from chordal root to chordal root, and the drummer plays strings of rhythmic patterns, including variations on swinging cymbal rhythms and irregularly placed bass-drum beats (or bombs). At a higher level an improvisation that was originally generated by motivic or formulaic procedures may be adopted as a pre-existing theme and subjected to melodic paraphrase in its turn; such an approach is characteristic of Louis Armstrong (see §5(ii) below) and of Miles Davis’s blues playing.

(vi) Modal improvisation.

Performances may also be analysed in terms that cut across the categories already drawn and which may employ variously the techniques of paraphrase, formulaic or motivic improvisation. For example, an improvisation may be described in terms of pitch – not so much how the pitches are put together as what pitches are selected – and indeed much of the conceptual discussion of improvisation in the realm of jazz education has been directed towards this issue. The use of tonal or atonal vocabulary, though it deeply affects the character of the music, has no bearing on the improvisatory techniques used, each of which applies to all or many styles of jazz. However, in one important case, improvisation based on modal scales, the controlled, systematic approach to pitch selection gives the music a sufficiently distinct identity to warrant separate discussion.

The defining characteristic of modal improvisation is that it explores the melodic and harmonic possibilities of a collection of pitches, often corresponding to one of the ecclesiastical modes or to a non-diatonic scale from traditional or non-Western music. The mode is expressed harmonically through drones or through two or more chords that oscillate beneath melodic lines using the same pitches; a typical feature of modal improvisation is therefore harmonic stasis and consequently an absence of incident and progression in the short term. Modal improvisation is not conterminous with Modal jazz, a style in which improvisers regularly select pitches in a loose, perhaps free, perhaps chromatically complex relation to underlying modes. It is much more likely to be found in jazz-rock and other fusions, which not only involve a simple, static harmonic underpinning, but in which the soloist is expected to improvise in close accord with such an underpinning.

A fine example of modal improvisation is in Gardens of Babylon, from Jean-Luc Ponty’s album Imaginary Voyage (1976, Atl. 19136). Ponty plays for the most part within a six-note scale (F–G–A–B–C–E); his occasional use of D and its recurrence as an element in the ostinato bass line identify the mode as Aeolian on F. It should not be presumed that such a single-minded procedure as modal improvisation necessarily yields an uninteresting result. In this example Ponty enriches the limited collection of pitches with an abundance of blue notes, bends and glissandos; he achieves these effects not only by exploiting the possibilities for pitch variation inherent in the violin but also by using a wah-wah pedal.

As with any form of music, the extent to which jazz performers succeed in communicating ideas or images through their music depends not only on their own approach but also on that of the listener. Indeed, the listener may make his or her own subjective interpretations of the music, whether representational or abstract, which the player would entirely repudiate. A straightforward extra-musical meaning, of course, attaches to pieces that have lyrics; purely instrumental improvisation may form part of this connection, especially where the singer engages in an exchange with an improvising player (as in the call-and-response passages of pieces in which Billie Holiday is accompanied by Lester Young, the two having an extraordinary rapport and quickness of reaction to each other's music). A similar conversational impression, often with humorous overtones, is created by the dialogues between the double bass player Charles Mingus and the bass clarinettist Eric Dolphy (see §3 above), the unison singing and double bass playing in improvisations by Slam Stewart, and the hilarious mumbling discussions with himself that colour Clark Terry’s playing. Soul-jazz musicians may convey the effect of black gospel preaching, seeming to translate the preacher's typical formulaic phrases into formulaic melody. The instrumental howls and exclamatory noises of free-jazz players have been interpreted by some as protests against racism in the USA, but for the most part such interpretations of improvisation are of little importance except to those who feel the need to make them.

5. Intangible elements.

(i) Extra-musical meaning.

(ii) Risk and repetition.

The essence of improvisation in jazz is the delicate balance between spontaneous invention, carrying with it both the danger of loss of control and the opportunity for creativity of a high order, and reference to the familiar, without which, paradoxically, creativity cannot be truly valued. Improvisation allows a musician to experiment and, in the process of exploring timbres and techniques, to redefine conventional standards of virtuosity. Musicians learn to transform accidents, instantaneously adjusting the direction of a line to accommodate an unintended, but perhaps refreshing, ‘mistake’. The element of risk in improvisation is the source of great vitality in jazz, but many improvisers do not take risks constantly. Repetition may permeate not only general improvisatory procedures to a greater or lesser degree but also specific solos, which from performance to performance may change only gradually if at all.

Widely recognized as the two greatest jazz improvisers, Charlie Parker and Louis Armstrong best illustrate the extremes of risk and repetition. Parker never repeated an entire solo, and successive performances based on the same tune are sometimes startlingly different (as, for example, in the two takes of Embraceable you, recorded on 28 October 1947 and issued on Dial 1024). By contrast, Armstrong, once having arrived at a successful approach, might repeat the contour and many details of a solo in different performances (as on two recordings of the same tune made on 13 and 14 May 1927 and released as S.O.L. Blues, Col. 35661, and Gully Low Blues, OK 8474). In inventing his ideas Armstrong was no less creative or original an improviser than Parker; moreover, his well-rehearsed reiterations of many of his solos convey, if not surprise, at least all other qualities of great improvisation.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

theory and analysis

GroveJ (B. Kernfeld) [incl. further discussion and examples]

J.-E. Berendt: Das Jazzbuch: Entwicklung und Bedeutung der Jazzmusik (Frankfurt, 1953, 2/1959 as Das neue Jazzbuch, Eng. trans., 1962; enlarged 5/1981 as Das grosse Jazzbuch: von New Orleans bis Jazz Rock, Eng. trans., 1982, as The Jazz Book: from New Orleans to Fusion and Beyond)

A. Hodeir: Hommes et problèmes du jazz, suivi de La religion du jazz (Paris, 1954; Eng. trans., rev., 1956/R, as Jazz: its Evolution and Essence)

G. Schuller: Early Jazz: its Roots and Musical Development (New York, 1968)

A.M. Dauer: ‘Improvisation: zur Technik der spontanen Gestaltung im Jazz’, Jazzforschung, i (1969), 113–32

F. Waidacher: ‘Freiheit in der Beschränkung: zur schöpferischen Arbeit am Grazer Jazz-Institut’, Jazzforschung, i (1969), 140–47

M.L. Stewart: ‘Structural Development in the Jazz Improvisational Technique of Clifford Brown’, Jazzforschung, vi–vii (1974–5), 141–273

E. Jost: Free Jazz (Graz, 1974)

T. Owens: Charlie Parker: Techniques of Improvisation (diss., UCLA, 1974)

L.O. Koch: ‘Ornithology: a Study of Charlie Parker's Music’, Journal of Jazz Studies, ii (1974–5), no.1, pp.61–87; no.2, pp.61–95

J. Patrick: ‘Charlie Parker and Harmonic Sources of Bebop Composition: Thoughts on the Repertory of New Jazz in the 1940s’, Journal of Jazz Studies, ii/2 (1974–5), 3–23

R. Byrnside: ‘The Performer as Creator: Jazz Improvisation’, in C. Hamm, B. Nettl and R. Byrnside: Contemporary Music and Music Cultures (Englewood Cliffs, NJ, 1975), 223–51

L. Gushee: ‘Lester Young's “Shoeshine Boy”’, IMSCR XII: Berkeley 1977, 151–69

D.J. Noll: Zur Improvisation im deutschen Free Jazz: Untersuchungen zur Ästhetik frei improvisierter Klangflächen (Hamburg, 1977)

M.L. Stewart: ‘Some Characteristics of Clifford Brown’s Improvisational Style’, Jazzforschung/Jazz Research, xi (1979), 135–64

D. Bailey: Improvisation: its Nature and Practice in Music (Ashbourne, 1980, 2/1991)

D.B. Zinn: The Structure and Analysis of the Modern Improvised Line, i: Theory (New York and Bryn Mawr, PA, 1981)

M. Berger, E. Berger and J. Patrick: Benny Carter: a Life in American Music (Metuchen, NJ, 1982)

J. Pressing: ‘Pitch Class Set Structures in Contemporary Jazz’, Jazzforschung, xiv (1982), 133–72

W.A. Fraser: Jazzology: a Study of the Tradition in which Jazz Musicians Learn to Improvise (diss., U. of Pennsylvania, 1983)

B. Kernfeld: ‘Two Coltranes’, Annual Review of Jazz Studies, ii (1983), 7–61

L. Porter: John Coltrane’s Music of 1960 through 1967: Jazz Improvisation as Composition (diss., Brandeis U., 1983)

P. Rinzler: ‘McCoy Tyner: Style and Syntax’, Annual Review of Jazz Studies, ii (1983), 109–49

D.L. Moorman: An Analytic Study of Jazz Improvisation: with Suggestions for Performance (diss., New York U., 1984)

L. Porter: ‘John Coltrane’s A Love Supreme: Jazz Improvisation as Composition’, JAMS, xxxviii (1985), 593–621

L. Porter: Lester Young (Boston, 1985)

R.T. Dean: New Structures in Jazz and Improvised Music since 1960 (Milton Keynes, 1992)

H. Martin: Charlie Parker and Thematic Improvisation (Lanham, MD, and London, 1996)

R.T. Dean and H. Smith: Improvisation, Hypermedia and the Arts since 1945 (Amsterdam, 1997)

pedagogical texts

J. Mehegan: Jazz Improvisation (New York, 1959–65)

J. Coker: Improvising Jazz (Englewood Cliffs, NJ, 1964)

J. LaPorta: A Guide to Improvisation (Boston, 1968)

D. Baker: Jazz Improvisation: a Comprehensive Method of Study for all Players (Chicago, 1969, 2/1983)

D. Baker: Advanced Improvisation (Chicago, 1971)

A. Jaffe: Jazz Theory (Dubuque, IA, 1983)

B. Benward and J. Wildman: Jazz Improvisation in Theory and Practice (Dubuque, IA, 1984)

P.F. Berliner: Thinking in Jazz: the Infinite Art of Improvisation (Chicago and London, 1994)

B. Kernfeld: What to Listen for in Jazz (New Haven, CT, and London, 1995)

I.T. Monson: Saying Something: Jazz Improvisation and Interaction (Chicago, 1996)

Impulse.

American record company. It was established in New York in 1960 as a subsidiary of ABC-Paramount and began issues in 1961 with a recording by the jazz trombonists Kai Winding and J.J. Johnson. It rapidly became the most important jazz label of its time, recording the work of John Coltrane, Archie Shepp and Cecil Taylor, and it also built up a valuable catalogue of bop and mainstream jazz by Gil Evans, Coleman Hawkins, Art Blakey, Benny Carter, Max Roach, Duke Ellington and others. Over 100 albums were released in five years.

During his final years Coltrane made studio recordings exclusively for Impulse; with his death in 1967 the company lost its most important and successful musician, and from that time its fortunes declined. It remained active into the 1970s and issued posthumously much of Coltrane's unreleased material, but otherwise the catalogue grew more commercially orientated and gradually lost impetus. In the 1980s Impulse reissued much of its early material and some then appeared on other labels as well as under the Impulse name.

MARK GARDNER

IMRO

[Irish Music Rights Organisation]. See Copyright §VI (under Ireland).

IMS

See International Musicological Society.

In alt

(from It. in alto: ‘high’).

A term often found in vocal music to denote those notes that lie above the highest line of the treble staff and within the compass g'' to f'''. The notes of the octave above this are said to be in altissimo. See Pitch nomenclature.

Inbal, Eliahu

(b Jerusalem, 16 Feb 1936). Israeli conductor, of Israeli and British citizenship. After studying the violin at the Jerusalem Conservatory, he took part in Celibidache’s conducting classes in Hilversum and studied conducting at the Paris Conservatoire, winning the 1963 Guido Cantelli conducting prize at Novara. After working chiefly in Italy, he made his British début in 1965 with the LPO and subsequently conducted other British orchestras, creating a strong impression in the standard repertory. In 1969 Inbal made his opera début with Elektra at Bologna; this was followed by Don Carlos at Verona the same year. In Siena (1971) he conducted the first performance since 1803 of Cherubini’s Anacréon with the original French text. He was chief conductor of the Frankfurt RSO (1974–90) and chief conductor at the Teatro La Fenice, Venice, from 1986 to 1989. Among the premières Inbal has given are Xavier Benguerel’s Percussion Concerto (1977), Allende-Blin’s edition of Debussy’s unfinished La chute de la maison Usher (1977) and Isang Yun’s first Violin Concerto (1982). His recordings include Donizetti’s Maria de Rudenz with La Fenice, the complete orchestral works of Berlioz, Ravel, Skryabin and Schumann, and the complete symphonies of Bruckner, Mahler and Shostakovich. He received the French Ordre des Arts et des Lettres in 1990, and in 1996 was named conductor laureate of the Frankfurt RSO and honorary conductor of the Orchestra Nazionale della RAI.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

E. Pottersman: ‘Ubiquitous Israeli’, Records and Recording, xv/7 (1971–2), 19–20

J.L. Holmes: Conductors: a Record Collector’s Guide (London, 1988), 114

NOËL GOODWIN

Incalzando

(It.: ‘pursuing’, ‘chasing’, ‘urging forward’; gerund of incalzare).

In music, a direction to increase speed.

In campo aperto.

See Campo aperto, in.

Inca music.

Music of the Pre-Columbian culture of the Central Andean area of South America.

2. Musical instruments of the Tahuantinsuyo.

3. Huacas: the place of ritual and its musical instruments.

4. Inca festivals and dance.

5. Inca parades, processions and customs.

6. Andean music at the beginning of the Colonial era.

CESAR BOLANOS

1. Introduction.

The Inca Tahuantisuyo (‘Empire’ or ‘state’) was the peak of a long process of development, starting with the first migrants, who arrived in the Andes approximately 15, 000 years ago, culminating in the Zapac Inca, who shaped and extended the Tahuantisuyo in the years 1450–1535. The empire reached its maximum size under the Inca Huyna Capac (1493–1527). When the Spaniards arrived, the Tahuantinsuyo extended in length from the extreme south of Colombia as far as the River Maule in Chile and in breadth from the Pacific Ocean to the high ground of the Amazon.

The Inca capital was Cusco, a city of magnificent architecture built with enormous polished stones set with precious metals. Only some stone remains can be seen today. Other splendours have survived only in the descriptions of chroniclers. Little is known of musical instruments made of precious metals as they fell victim to the invaders’ insatiable greed to possess the Incas' dazzling riches of silver and gold. Objects made of precious metals, including musical instruments, were melted down into exportable ingots. Later, when the Viceroyalty of Peru was established, the Spaniards also destroyed instruments made of organic materials, because they were associated with Inca ceremonies, which were considered idolatrous rites and thus banned by both Catholic clergy and the colonial government.

Ceramic objects survive from between 2000 and 100 bce, including sound-producing instruments of fine quality that show individual stylistic traits

The cultures of that period include: Chorrera, Guangala, Bahía, Jama Coaque, Guayaquil, Tolita, Capulí, El Angel, Tuncahuán, all situated in what is now the country of Ecuador, and Tembladera, Jequetepeque, Guañape, Chavín, Paracas, Salinar, Vicús, Tablada de Lurín, Pukara in modern Peru.

Later cultures, between 100 and 600 ce, produced the highest achievements of ceramic instruments in terms of technique and construction. The greatest exponents were the Mochica and the Nasca (Peru), and, the Cuasmal, Manteño, Cosanga and Purhua (northern Andes and Ecuador). The Wari (600–1000 ce) were the first to attempt to create an empire in the central Andean region. From Ayacucho, they dominated an area extending from Cajamarca and Lambayeque to the north, and as far as Cusco and Arequipa to the south. Little is known about their instrument-making, but they did overpower the Mochica and Nasca in the course of their expansion.

By approximately 1000 ce Wari society had disintegrated, giving way to the Sicán, Chimú, Chincha and Chancay in Peru, and the Cuasmal, Manteño, Cosanga and Purhua in Ecuador. These peoples had not been dominated by the Wari and had therefore continued the development of their societies without the strong influence exercised by the Wari on those they conquered. In a similar way the Gentilar in Arica and Tarapacá in Chile, among others, were also outside the ambit of the Wari.

In 1450, after almost 100 years of large-scale aggression, the Incas came to dominate virtually all the peoples of the Andean region. They were thus able to choose the best instrument-makers; those who had inherited a long history of both knowledge of acoustics and techniques of construction.

The customs of the Incas and the peoples of the Tahuantinsuyo are known only through the accounts of the Spanish conquerors and the chronicles and documents which describe the period. Such writers had no knowledge of the lengthy history of Andean culture and as a result the information they provide is limited to the previous 100 or 150 years of Andean customs and heroic legend. Through their imperial position the Incas organized new social, political and economic structures and new means of productivity and technology, in what was to become the final stage of the Andean culture’s long history. Yet at this moment of cultural evolution, the territory was destined to be invaded, leading to its destabilization and the destruction and loss of all that had been achieved over many thousands of years. A great deal of knowledge, including that related to instrument-making, was lost for ever.

An account by Cabello de Balboa explains one of the causes, as well as the tragedy, of this destruction, reporting how after Francisco Pizarro ordered his army to seize the gold from Cusco and Pachacamac, the Spaniards pillaged the palace, taking gold, silver, and everything else of value. Among those objects must have been drums and other musical instruments musical instruments. Once the colony was established, not even burial places went unmolested. The ransacking for gold of burial places high up on the dry land of the Chincha valley is related in chronicles. Other narrators reported on the customs, dances and instruments encountered.

2. Musical instruments of the Tahuantinsuyo.

The Tahuantinsuyo consisted of many diverse peoples with their own particular musical instruments dominated by the Incas. From the chronicles it is known that taqui, which designated both dances and songs, were used to celebrate joyful as well as sad and mournful occasions, using musical instruments kept essentially for such dances and revels. Playing was spontaneous: whoever took up an instrument was considered as mastering it at the first lesson, ‘there was little sweetness in the sound, and even less artistry’ (Cobo, 1956 p.270). The most common instrument was the drum, called huancar, made in both large and small sizes from a hollow branch, each end covered with a llama skin, like a thin dry parchment. The largest drums were compared to European military drums, but considered to be even bigger in size, while the smaller ones were described as being ‘like a little jar of preserves’, and the middle-sized like a European tambourine. All were played with one stick, which on gala occasions was sometimes covered with different coloured wools, while the drums were painted and decorated. The drums were played by both men and women; some dances were accompanied by just one, while at others everyone carried a little drum, dancing and playing at the same time. Cobo also reports the use of a kind of Moorish tambourine, called huancartinya.

Cobo noted that while some instruments were similar to those found in Spain, others were unfamiliar, original to the Andean people. Thus we learn that the pincollo was like a fife; the quenaquena was like a reed, and was used to accompany dirges; the quepa was a small trumpet made from a large gourd; the ayarachic was a kind of antara (panpipes) used in dance; the zacapas, bells made of seeds and attached to the toes; the chanrara, handbells made of copper and silver. The most common of all, according to Cobo, were called churu, made of large and various coloured sea shells.

Musical polyphony was a speciality of the Collas, achieved through the playing of instruments which were almost certainly antara (panpipes), combined together in a manner similar to that of present-day sikuris groups of the altiplano. Without naming the instrument, Garcilaso (1943) describes: There were four of these little reeds attached to each other, some different from others. One of them sounded the low notes, another the higher, and another even higher and higher, like the natural range of four voices: treble, tenor, alto and bass. When one Indian played a little reed, another replied in harmony.

Cobo (1956) describes a similar instrument, although not played as part of a group: Also, in their dances, they usually play an instrument made of approximately seven little flutes, placed like organ pipes, side by side, and unequal, the largest as big as the palm of a hand and the rest in descending order. They call this instrument ayarachic, and they play it placed on the lower lip, blowing into these little flutes to produce a muffled sound which is not very sweet.

3. Huacas: the place of ritual and its musical instruments.

All Andean religious activities regularly took place at ceremonial places called huacas; here rituals were carried out that were considered idolatrous by Catholic clergy and therefore harshly persecuted. So-called ‘extirpators of idolatry’ zealously dedicated their lives to discovery of these rituals and the punishment of those who participated. Tireless campaigns were waged, with some extirpators leaving behind detailed descriptions of the places, the ritual events and their own methods and rules of punishment. Father Francisco Pablo de Arriaga gave detailed descriptions of ritual effects expressed his disapproval of various instruments which were not seized, including those used to summon people to the feasts of the huacas and to celebrate them. These included many very old copper or silver trumpets of a different shape and form from those of the Spaniards, large shells called antara or pututu pincollo, and flutes made of bone and of cane. He also reported heads and horns of tarucas (a kind of stag), calabashes, calabash drinking vessels and other aquillas, drinking vessels made of silver, wood and clay, of various shapes, used for the feasts of the huacas, as well as large numbers of tambourines used for revels (Arriaga, 1920).

The runatinya, a drum made of human skin (runa means man; tinya means drum), of which no physical or iconographical evidence has been found in earlier cultures, is known only through the description of certain chronicles. It appears that this was not in fact a drum to be played, but a hideous object that the Incas made out of the human skin of conquered chiefs and leaders in order to show their power and intimidate opponents. Vivid accounts exist: one from Cusco, written by Alonso de Meza, who took part in the conquest of the Andean territory, tells how the Incas made such drums by killing the person but leaving the head and arms intact, removing the bones from inside and filling them with ash; making a drum out of the belly; and placing the hands and head on the drum, so that when they blew through them, ‘the drums emitted sounds by themselves’ (Meza, 1920 p.129).

An account from Montesinos tells how Sinchi Roca, after defeating the Señores of Andagüáylas, entered Cusco. He was preceded by songs of praise, trumpets and drums, followed by two thousand soldiers, with ‘six drums shaped like men, made from the skins of the caciques and captains they had marked out in the battle. They skinned them alive, and when filled with air, they looked very like their owners, and they played on their stomachs with little drumsticks to show their contempt. Four thousand soldiers came marching along to these sounds. Behind them came many captured chiefs and captains, and they were followed by more soldiers, and then by six more drums like the first.’ One captive, the Señor de Andagüáylas, was held naked on a platform surrounded by ‘six drums made of the skins of his relations, and they made sounds come out of these drums' (Montesinos, 1930).

4. Inca festivals and dance.

Andean peoples' practice was to celebrate daily activities, both regular and special, with music and dance. Grand dignitaries had at their disposal a variety of musical instruments, performers and dancers for different occasions. Guamán Poma describes feasts of the Capac Apo, or ‘great señores’ of the Tahuantinsuyo, which used various musical instruments for dance, including very large drums called pomatinya made of puma skin; guayllaquepa trumpets, made of shells; the pototo, made of calabash or ‘lagenaria’; a flute called a pingollo; the antara, made of reed; and other wind instruments such as the pipo, catauri, uaroro, kena-quena and chiuca. Each instrument, particular to each ‘ayllo’ (extended family unit), was used at festivals of the Incas and at those of the chiefs of each region.

The Incas were extremely exuberant in their ceremonies and festivals. Santa Cruz Pachacuti describes how the Inca Roca, to celebrate the birth of his son Yabarvaca, the future Inca, decorated the streets and square with arches made of feathers, and how ‘they made up songs with eight drums and caxas temerarias (large drums), the songs were called ayma, forma, cave and vallina, chamayuricsa and haylli and cachua’ (Pachacuti, 1927 p.171).

Garcilaso pointed out that each and every province of Peru had its own specific way of dancing; dances were never changed or exchanged, and peoples were recognized in this way, as well as by their different head-dresses. He noted how the Incas’ dancing was solemn and uncomplicated, with no hopping or leaping or other movements found in other dances. Only the Inca men danced, women were not permitted to dance among men. One solemn dance involved each participant holding the hands of the next-dancer-but-one, that is, the person second, rather than immediately, in front of them, at times creating a chain of 200 to 300 men or more depending on the solemnity of the occasion. The dance was begun at a distance from its focus, the Inca king, its movements involving all dancers coming out together, taking three steps at a time, the first backwards, the next two forwards, repeating this movement and gradually moving forwards until they reached the middle of the enclosure where the Inca sat. Songs were recited to the rhythm of the dance, composed in praise of the Inca dignitary present, of his ancestors and others of the same blood, mentioning deeds carried out in peace or in war, with singing alternated between groups to avoid tiredness. The Incas watching would join in while the Inca king sometimes danced at the festivals to solemnize them more.

5. Inca parades, processions and customs.

For the practice of the Qispiranpa, the Inca and his wife, the Colla, would parade through the city, carried on a platform. Guamán Poma describes how in processions, the Inca, accompanied by servants, adorned with his royal decorations and his standard, would bring musicians playing trumpets and flutes. His whole retinue would dance along to the sound of taqui (Guamán Poma, vol.1, p.249). The Inca would participate in some festivals, particularly one at which the uaricza was danced and sung with a red-coloured llama called the puca llama, the song intoned to imitate the gentle cry of the puma. Such a dance–song would be repeated gradually and rhythmically for half an hour, the sound characterized by the ‘y-y-y’ cry emitted by the llama, simultaneously intoned by the Inca by several repeated ‘yn’ sounds while maintaining appropriate rhythm and tone. Verses interjected and responded to by others taking part, including the Colla and Nustas, were at first intoned loudly, with voices gradually lowered until a gentle tone was reached, a tone thought to characterize the uaricza and the araui. Guamán Poma also noted that the Colla, Cusi Chimbo, the wife of Inca Roca, was fond of singing, making music, playing the tinya drum, arranging festivals and banquets (ibid., vol.1, p.96). Raua Ocllo, the wife of Huayna Capac, is also noted for her fondness for music, with a thousand people at her disposal for festivals, some dancing, others singing to the sound of the drums or making music with pingollos flutes. She also had singers of araui living in her house (Guamán Poma, vol.1). The Incas and their wives were not only fond of music, dances and festivals in themselves, but also as symbols of status and power. This was not unique to the Incas, but was common throughout the Andes regionand necessitated the retention of expert musicians and dancers.

6. Andean music at the beginning of the Colonial era.

Following the establishment of the Spanish Viceroyalty, Inca customs and those of the peoples of the Tahuantinsuyo underwent inevitable transformations, including the introduction of new musical instruments, some of which were subject to considerable modifications. While some ecclesiastics decreed the use of Andean music, songs and dances inappropriate for Catholic worship, Guamán Poma tried to get this decree altered, indicating that in his opinion certain Inca music and dances were suitable for Christian festivities. In his writings he argued that the principal chiefs, Indian men and women, should have the right to dance and to sing taqui (songs); the haylli (song of victory) the uacón uauco (song of the Chinchaysuyos) the sainata (mask song); the llamallama (song of the shepherds); the hayachuco (war song); the Cimo Capac (song of the great Chimu); the Ayanya (song of the dead one); the Guarmi Auca (song of the woman warrior); the Antisuyo (song of the Anti); the chipchillanto (brilliant song); the uaruro (light song); the hahiua (song of the punished acollas or adulterous women); the apac (song of the absent); the llamaya (song of the llama shepherds); the harauay (song of the craftsmen); the uaricza (song of the creator); the tumipampa (song of the tumi ceremonial knife); the haraui (a triumphal song for harvests and time of war); the pingollo (song to the sound of the pingollo flute); the quenquena (song of the kena flute); the catauri song that is danced while spinning round); as well as Spanish,‘negro’ and other Amerindian dances. He advised that they should be danced in front of the ‘Most Holy Sacrament of the Virgin and all the Saints, at feasts of vigil, at Easter and at all the feast days of the year marked out by the Holy Mother Church. Those who do not observe this will be punished’ (Guamán Poma, 1956).

While there were objections to the principle of accepting the music and dances of the peoples of the Tahuantinsuyo, the Spaniards expressed surprise at the remarkable musical qualities and facility for music of the Andean people, their ability to learn to read, write and sing organ chants, play hornpipes, flutes, organs and all kinds of music (Herrera, 1726). Deductions can be made regarding the music of the Incas and the Tahuantinsuyo, and of earlier periods, by studying both old and contemporary genres and melodies of Andean music. While certain kinds of music have been modified in both form and expression, characteristic features are preserved. Throughthese endure the surviving traditions and customs with each modification signalling a new phase.

2. Outside dialogue scenes.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

A. de Herrera: Historia general de los hechos de los castellanos en la isla y tierra-firme del mar oceano (Madrid, 1726)

J.P. de Arriaga: La extirpación de la idolatría en el Perú (Lima, 1920), 75

M. Cabello de Balboa: Historia del Perú bajo la dominación de los incas (Lima, 1920)

A. de Meza: ‘Informaciones de virrey Toledo, acerca de la tiranía de los incas, y las verificadas en Jauja, Cuzco, Guamanga y Yucay (1570–72)’, Informaciones sobre el antiguo Peru (cronicas de 1533 a 1575) , ed. H.H. Urteaga, Coleccion de libros y documentos referentes a la historia del Perú, 2nd ser., iii (Lima, 1921), 103–44

J. de Santacruz Pachacuti Yamqui: ‘Relación de antiguedades desde el reyno del Perú’, Historia de los incas y relación de su gobierno, ed. H.H. Urteaga (Lima, 1927), 127–235

F. Montesinos: Memorias antiguas historiales y políticas del Perú, Colección de libros y Documentos referentes a la historia del Perú, 2nd ser., vi (Lima, 1930), 95

F. Guamán Poma de Ayala: Nueva corónica y buen gobierno (Paris, 1936)

I. Garcilaso de la Vega: Comentarios Reales de los Incas (Buenos Aires, 1943), i, 119; ii, 218

B. Cobo: ‘De los juegos que terían para entretenerse, sus instrumentos músicas y bailes’, ed. F. Mateos, Biblioteca de autores españoles, xcii, (Madrid 1956), 269–71

R. Stevenson: Music in Aztec and Inca Territory (Berkeley and London, 1968/R)

M.E. Grebe: ‘Instrumentos musicales precolombinos’, RMC, no.128 (1974), 5–55

L.G. Lumbreras: Críticas y perspectivas de la arqueología andina (Peru, 1979)

P. Porras: Arqueologia del Ecuador (Quito, 1980)

P. Cieza de Leon: Crónica del Perú (Lima, 1984)

C. Bolaños: ‘La música en el antiguo Perú’, La música en el Perú (Lima, 1985), 1–64

J. Idovro Irigüen: Instrumentos musicales prehispánicos del Ecuador (Ecuador, 1987)

Incardona, Federico

(b Palermo, 13 May 1958). Italian composer. He studied music at the University of Palermo with Paolo Emilio Carapezza and Antonino Titone, and made his public début as a composer at the Teatro Politeama Garibaldi in Palermo with Mit höchster Gewalt for instrumental ensemble (1977). This work immediately characterized Incardona's initially delicate aphoristic style. After four years of further study and silence (during which he established friendships with Bussotti, Evangelisti, Nono, Togni and the musicologist Heinz-Klaus Metzger, who had a profound influence on him), he embarked on a particularly fertile period (1981–9). Avec un morne embrassement, his first chamber symphony, performed at the Venice Biennale in 1981, brought him to international attention. According to Restagno, the work displays, ‘dark, glutinous sonorities, filled with obscure echoes’ and the ‘will to sing … blunted by tragic exhaustion’. A striking series of extended pieces have followed, including Soave sia il vento for 6 instruments (1982), Des Freundes Umnachtung for large orchestra (1985), Postludio alle notti for large orchestra (1988) and Malor me bat ‘Graffito da Ockeghem: per Luigi Nono’ for string trio, three bottles and crotales (1995). The source and set of compositional rules for almost all these mature works lies in the 12-note row of Webern's projected third cantata, which remained unfinished at the time of his death. Incardona transforms the series into one of 24 quarter-tones, out of which darkly brilliant, sensuous textures are formed. He has written extensively on music, including numerous articles in L'ora.

WORKS

Orch: Avec un morne embrassement (Chbr Sym. no.1), 1981; Ritratto di giovane nel suo diciannovesimo anno d'età, chbr orch, 1981; Cercles mysterieux des adolescents (Chbr Sym. no.2), 1982; Des Freundes Umnachtung, sym. dialogue, 1985; Ognuno accanto alla sua notte, 1985; Oblioso, insensibile parvenza d'angelo ancora, chbr orch, 1987; Postludio alle notti, 1988; Levante, wind, perc, dbs, 1999Vocal: 2 frammenti da Kavafis, C, va, hn, cel, hp, 1976; 2 frammenti da Umberto Saba, T, pf, 1981; Oscuri sono i sentieri notturni dell'uomo (C. Kavafis, G.M. Hopkins), S, fl, pf, 1981; Canone a tre (Kavafis), C, b fl, vc, 1986; Frammento su testo di Giacomo Leopardi, S, vc, 1986; Postludio alle notti (J.W. von Goethe), S, orch, 1988; Mehr Licht (Kavafis), S, vn, pf, 11 insts, 1989 [rev. of chbr work]; Mit brechender Stimme, 1v, chbr orch, 1996Other inst: Memoria, str qt, 1976; Mit höchster Gewalt, ens, 1977; Soave sia il vento, hn, bn, vn, va, vc, db, 1982; Bocca, fl, pf, prep pf, 1984; Tranquilla sia l'onda, 2 fl, hn, va, vc, db, 1985; Mehr Licht, vn, pf, 1986; Sed nec lingua loqui, b fl, b cl, hn, 4 perc, va, vc, db, 1986 [in memoriam Joseph Beuys]; Sulla lontananza dell'amico dilettissimo, vn, fl, pf + cel, 1986; Secondo notturno, va, vc, 1988; Douce, b fl, 1989; Thema ‘Variazioni su 8 forme’, vc, 1989; Malor me bat ‘Graffito da Ockeghem: per Luigi Nono’, str trio, 3 bottles, crotales, 1995; Secretum douce, vn, 1999

MSS in I-PLi; Centro per le Iniziative Musicali in Sicilie

Principal publishers: Ricordi

BIBLIOGRAPHY

A. Titone: ‘Musicisti nuovissimi a Palermo’, Acquario, no.1 (1982), 57–63

S.E. Failla: ‘La notti di Incardona’, Cronache musicali, xi/34 (1985), 15

F. Incardona: ‘Il tavolo di Webern’, Anton Webern, ed. P. Violante (Palermo, 1995), 176–7

P.E. Carapezza: ‘Sviluppi della dodecafonia nel meridone d'Italia’, Musica/Realtà, no.53 (1997), 65–76

F. Incardona: ‘Taj-will’ del suono (Palermo, 1997)

T. Tarmeku: Federico Incardone (Palermo, 1999)

PAOLO EMILIO CARAPEZZA

Incatenatura

(It.: ‘chaining’).

A term used by modern scholars to refer to the Quodlibet of 16th-century Italy. Torrefranca divided such works into two types: the villotta d'incatenatura, in which a succession of borrowed fragments in one part is accompanied homophonically by other free voices; and the incatenatura da villotta, in which every voice is a different patchwork of quotations. Examples of the former include L'ultimo dì di maggio, Che mangerà la sposa and P. da Hostia's Vray dieu d'amor. In the latter category are such works as Non dormite o cacciatori, Lodovico Fogliani's Fortuna d'un gran tempo, Matthias Werrecore's Horsu and Isaac's famous Donna di dentro. In the last piece, ‘Donna di dentro’ is skilfully combined with the well-known tune ‘Fortuna d'un gran tempo’ and a comical plea, ‘Dammene un pocho di quella maza crocha’. The printed and manuscript sources for the frottola repertory include examples of related procedures in which elements of independent songs are recombined either simultaneously or in formal juxtaposition. The incatenatura may have developed from an improvised practice of quoting popular villotta refrains at the ends of pieces, which often contain ‘lilolelas’ (onomatopoeic imitations of instruments). Patchwork refrain led to the filastrocca, a long villotta coda.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

EinsteinIM

K. Jeppesen: ‘Venetian Folk-Songs of the Renaissance’, PAMS 1939, 62–75

F. Torrefranca: Il segreto del Quattrocento (Milan, 1939)

B. Becherini: ‘Tre incatenature del codice fiorentino Magl.XIX.164, 65, 66, 67’, CHM, i (1953), 79–96

K. Jeppesen: La frottola, iii: Frottola und Volkslied (Århus, 1970)

W.F. Prizer: Courtly Pastimes: the Frottole of Marchetto Cara (Ann Arbor, 1980)

D.G. Cardamone: The Canzone villanesca alla napolitana and Related Forms, 1537–1570 (Ann Arbor, 1981)

For further bibliography see Quodlibet.

MARIA RIKA MANIATES/RICHARD FREEDMAN

Ince, Kamran

(b Glendive, MT, 6 May 1960). American composer of Turkish descent. He moved to Ankara with his parents in 1966, where he studied composition with Ilhan Baran (1970–75) and the cello and piano at the Ankara Conservatory (1971–77). He entered the Izmir Conservatory in 1977 to pursue composition studies with Muammer Sun. In 1980 he returned to the USA, maintaining dual Turkish and US citizenship. He attended the Oberlin College Conservatory (BM 1982) and the Eastman School (MM 1984, DMA 1987), where his teachers included David Burge (piano), Joseph Schwantner, Christopher Rouse, Samuel Adler and Barbara Kolb (composition). In 1987 he won the Prix de Rome and a Guggenheim fellowship, followed in 1988 by the Lili Boulanger Memorial Prize. He has taught at the University of Michigan (1990–92) and the University of Memphis (1992– ), and served as composer-in-residence of the California SO, Walnut Creek (1991–3). His commissions include works for the Minnesota Orchestra, Meet the Composer, and the Fromm and Koussevitzky foundations.

Ince’s musical influences range from Turkish folktunes to neo-romanticism. His instrumental palette is equally broad, incorporating timbres from serpents to synthesizers. Most of his music is programmatic. Night Passage (1992) evokes an evening spent wandering through bars in a Mediterranean town, while the Symphony no.2 ‘Fall of Constantinople’ (1994) was inspired by the victory of the Ottoman Turks in 1453. In 1996, Ince wrote his first film score, Love Under Siege, and in 1997 received a commission for the film Aphrodisiac.

WORKS

(selective list)

Film scores: Love Under Siege, 1996; Aphrodisiac (dir. M. Schwartzman), 1997

Orch: Pf Conc., 1984; Infrared Only, 1985; Before Infrared, 1986; Ebullient Shadows, 1987; Deep Flight, 1988; Sym. no.1 ‘Castles in the Air’, 1989; Lipstick, 4 sax, synth, orch, 1991; Hot, Red, Cold, Vibrant, 1992; Domes, 1993; Plexus, 4 sax, 2 elec gui, drum machine, synth, orch, 1993; Sym. no.2 ‘Fall of Constantinople’, 1994; Sym. no.3 ‘Siege of Vienna’, 1995; Remembering Lycia, pf, orch, 1996; Conc. for New Music Ens, 3 sax, 2 elec gui, vn, vc, pf, synth, orch, 1998

Chbr: Matinees (J. Merrill) nar, ww qnt, 1989; Waves of Talya, fl, cl, vn, vc, pf, perc, 1988; Hammer Music, fl, cl, vn, va, vc, synth, perc, 1990; Fantasy of a Sudden Turtle, vn, va, vc, pf, 1991; Night Passage, fl, cl, tpt, elec gui, amp vn, vc, synth, drum machine, 1992; Arches, fl, cl, tpt, vn, vc, synth, 1994; Tracing, vc, pf, 1994; Evil Eye, pic, ob, cl, 2 sax, bn, tpt, hn, trbn, pf, synth, drum set, elec gui, str qt, db, 1996; Turqoise, fl, cl, tpt, vn, vc, pf, synth, perc, 1996; Curve, str qt, 1997; Lines, pf, cl/vn, 1997

Vocal: Love Under Siege, suite, SATB, sax, serpent, pf, synth, perc, elec gui, vn, 1996 [from film score]; Aphrodisiac, suite, SATB, fl, sax, serpent, pf, synth, perc, elec gui, vn, 1997 [from film score]

Pf: The Blue Journey, 1982; Cross Scintillations, 4 hands, 1986; My Friend Mozart, 1987; An Unavoidable Obsession, 1988

Principal publisher: European American

JAMES CHUTE

Incertus Theologus Orthodoxus [Romanus]

See Spee, Friedrich von.

Incidental music.

In the theatre, music performed as part of the performance of a spoken drama. See also Film music, Radio and Television.

1. Definitions.

3. Within dialogue scenes.

4. Full sets and changing circumstances.

5. Afterlives.

ROGER SAVAGE

1. Definitions.

Music has been closely linked with theatre since theatre began. Dance music and song have played important roles in much folk drama. The classic forms of Asian theatre from India to Japan rely heavily on music, as do the dramatic rituals of sub-Saharan Africa and of the indigenous peoples of the Americas. The major Western theatrical forms include several in which music is all but continuous (medieval liturgical drama, ballet de cour, ballet d’action and classical ballet, 18th-century pantomime, some types of opera, much ‘modern dance’), as well as several in which extended musical sections alternate on at least equal footing with passages of spoken dialogue: zarzuela, masque in most of its varieties, comédie-ballet, semi-opera, 18th-century vaudeville, ballad opera, Singspiel, opéra comique, operetta, musical comedy, the ‘musical’ and some music theatre. That only leaves the kinds of Western drama which put especially strong emphasis on spoken dialogue (‘plays’); and these too have very often availed themselves of music between their dialogue scenes and/or at points during them. There is no one term that groups together all the types of predominantly spoken drama using music in this latter way; but the music they call on is known in several European languages as ‘stage music’ (Fr. musique de scène; Ger. Bühnenmusik; It. musica di scena) and in English as ‘incidental music’.

The English term seems not to have been current before the middle of the 19th century and may have been a borrowing at that time from the collateral German term Inzidenzmusik, a category of ‘theatre music’. In English at that time it designated only those musical numbers within dialogue-scenes – occasional songs, dances, marches etc. – which were specifically called for by the script of the play in hand. These were thought of as ‘incidental’ in the lexicon sense of ‘following on from, or incurred in the execution of, some plan or purpose’ – the purpose in this case being getting a play on to the stage. (In such a context the adjective did not then, and arguably should not now, carry with it the trivializing connotations of other senses of ‘incidental’ such as ‘fortuitous’, ‘casual’, ‘not strictly relevant’.) Usage by the end of the 19th century, as the second edition of Grove’s Dictionary had rather grudgingly to concede, stretched the ‘incidental’ category to cover orchestral mood music, and later musical lexicographers (Apel, HDM, 1944; Illing, A Dictionary of Music, 1950) raised no objection to this inclusion. However, they did feel that a line should be drawn at calling theatrical overtures and entr’actes ‘incidental’ too. Yet within a few years their successors (Grove5, 1954; Cooper, The Concise Encyclopedia of Music and Musicians, 1958) were allowing that such preluding and interluding could reasonably be included in the ‘incidental’ bracket; and this capacious definition – all the music performed as part of the performance of a play – has been fairly standard since.

The widening of the definition between the 1860s and the 1950s can be linked with the increasing expectation in British theatre over the intervening decades that all the music used in connection with a particular staging would be written by one composer, and hence perceived as a kind of unity meriting a single term to embrace it; and it is certainly useful to have such a term to cover the totality of music used in any play performance even if its origins are more diverse than that (as they often have been). However, the term is not watertight. For one thing, all the constituent elements of incidental music so defined – overture, entr’acte, dance, song, chorus, mélodrame etc. – can also be found in other musical contexts; and for another, spoken plays that have a very considerable quantity of incidental music can approach, straddle and sometimes cross a boundary beyond which some other term might more usefully be applied to them. Thus, for example, Adam de la Halle’s Jeu de Robin et de Marion (c1283), which might quite reasonably be thought of as a pastoral play with a host of incidental songs, is perhaps better seen as a Singspiel or ‘musical’ avant la lettre; a self-styled ‘tragedy’ which adds several masque-like scenes of spectacle and music to its spoken text, such as Charles Davenant’s Circe (1677), is clearly on the threshold of semi-opera (and indeed in the case of Circe was remembered as an ‘opera’ by some of Davenant’s contemporaries); and a remark of Federico García Lorca’s about his Amor de don Perlimplín con Belisa en su jardín (1933) – that in the performances he directed himself its action and dialogue were ‘embedded in music like a chamber opera’ – might suggest we would be better off thinking of the piece as music theatre than as a spoken comedy with an incidental score.

2. Outside dialogue scenes.

Incidental music in the Western tradition effectively begins with the choric odes that were an important feature of Athenian drama in the 5th century bce. In Greek tragedy, and quite often in comedy too, these odes (sung and danced by a male chorus supported by an aulos) were sited between the several extended episodes of linear, argumentative spoken dialogue in a play, and supplied a perspective on its events and ideas different from that of the principal characters, both ideologically and aesthetically. Apart from a few phrases in a fragmentary state, none of the music for these odes, which was composed by the dramatists themselves in the main, has survived; but the phenomenon does have three significant links with later incidental music.

First, ode texts from the Greek have been reset by composers since the Renaissance for such restagings of the original plays as have chosen to use song for the choric episodes rather than the common alternative of heightened speech: for instance, the epoch-making revival of Sophocles’ Oedipus rex in Giustiniani’s Italian version which inaugurated the Teatro Olimpico at Vicenza in 1585, its choruses set by Andrea Gabrieli; the performances in German of Sophocles’ other ‘Theban’ tragedies at the Prussian court theatre in the 1840s, with music for the choruses by Mendelssohn; and the triennial productions of tragedies and comedies in the original language given at Cambridge from 1882 onwards, which have had scores (inclusive of chorus settings) by several British composers, notably Vaughan Williams’s for the Wasps of Aristophanes in 1909.

Secondly, in emulation of these Greek models, classicizing European dramatists have sometimes incorporated choric odes intended for singing into their own play texts: notably Racine in his two biblical plays for the college at St Cyr, Esther and Athalie (1689, 1691), with scores initially by J.-B. Moreau (the Athalie choruses being set again several times later, by Gossec and Mendelssohn among others). Some more recent experiments with the articulation of dramatic form have incorporated a singing chorus, though sometimes adding elements to it from beyond the Greek tradition: witness Brecht’s Caucasian Chalk Circle (1945), with its linking songs for a balladeer-narrator (set first by Paul Dessau), and several of Yeats’s partly Japanese-inspired dramas from the 1910s and 20s, with their three-musician choric lyrics. (Among his composers, Yeats especially admired Edmund Dulac for his music to At the Hawk’s Well and George Antheil for Fighting the Waves.)

Thirdly, a further and more widely felt influence of the Greek chorus derives from the mutation of Aristophanic ‘old’ comedy into the ‘new’ comedy of Menander in the 4th century bce, as a result of which the comic chorus lost its ideologically significant, role-playing function but kept its structural, episode-separating one. (Surviving Menandrian texts simply stipulate at certain punctuation points in the plot that there should be choric performances, linked sometimes to the arrival of a band of revellers; but no words are provided for them.) So comes into being the idea that a comedy should comprise several distinct dialogue-sections separated by something in a different performance medium, allowed for but not pre-scripted by the playwright. This sectional concept made a vital contribution to the development of Roman, and later of Renaissance Italian, ‘act’ theory; and from around 1500 it became theatrical practice in Italy when staging ancient or modern five-act ‘new comedies’ to place articulating intermedi between the acts: instrumental and/or vocal pieces (performed sometimes on stage, sometimes behind the scenes), or dances or brief musico-dramatic divertimentos. This quasi-choric practice – in conjunction with the use in 15th- and 16th-century spoken drama north of the Alps of the instrumental silete and pause (designed there to attract an open-air audience’s attention at the start of a show, hold it during changes of location in the action, or mark scene breaks of other sorts) – opened a rich seam of incidental ‘entr’acte’ music which was to be very productive for the next four centuries.

The musical intermedi for an Italian Renaissance drama – six of them, often: four between the play’s five acts and two more as quasi-prologue and epilogue – had three possible functions beyond the purely structural ones of punctuating the spoken play and covering time lapses in its plot. They could dazzle and divert by their novelty and inventiveness (e.g. the sudden explosion of rustic hoeing, sowing, mowing and threshing danced to a moresca after Act 1 of Terence’s Eunuchus as given at Ferrara in 1499); they could establish links with the ideas and/or situations of their ‘host’ play (e.g. the madrigals of Verdelot to texts by Machiavelli designed to go between the acts at a mooted revival of Machiavelli’s own Mandragola in 1526); and on special occasions they could reach outwards to honoured guests in the audience, as in the sets of very grand and costly mythological-allegorical intermedi which paid tribute to noble brides and grooms attending plays in the course of dynastic wedding festivities, as at Medicean Florence in 1586 (L’amico fido) and 1589 (La pellegrina).

Following this latter tradition in their scale and texture, lengthy and elaborate balletic or operatic intermèdes became a feature of the spoken Latin tragedies performed at the Jesuit colleges in France in the 17th century (the intermède-set constituting M.-A. Charpentier’s David et Jonathas of 1688 is an example); but entr’acte practice closer to that of the earliest Italian intermedi in scale, strategy and kind developed in English court theatricals and in productions by children’s companies in London in the decades around 1600 – see, for instance, Marston’s Sophonisba (1606) and Beaumont’s Knight of the Burning Pestle (c1607) – spreading eventually to London’s adult commercial companies, where it was common by the 1620s. The practice survived the Puritan closure of the London theatres (1642–60) to return with new vigour in the Restoration period, a vigour maintained until the Italian operatic invasion of London moved the focus of interest in musical novelty there from playhouse to opera house.

Dispensing largely with song and dance, Restoration and early 18th-century entr’acte music, as composed by Locke, John Banister (i), the Purcell brothers, Paisible and Croft among others, was generally designed for string bands which would perform in ‘music rooms’ above the stage and later in the newly fashionable orchestra pits which were to become a feature of European playhouses for the next 250 years. The entr’actes made up part of a show’s standard set of seven to nine pieces: four ‘act tunes’ between the acts, preceded by an overture or ‘curtain tune’, itself preceded by two ‘musics’ (each comprising one or two numbers) which were played while the audience was assembling and which music lovers might make a special point of arriving early to hear. As with the intermedi of the 16th century, the act tunes could simply function as ingenious or airy diversions from the plot of the spoken play, or they might occasionally allude to events outside the theatre (as with the ‘Lillibulero’ Henry Purcell smuggled into the Jig for his music for The Gordian Knot Unty'd) or mirror the moods of the scenes they followed or preceded. Some members of the audience doubtless chattered vigorously through all such pieces: a response to entr’acte music still being recorded painfully, by Bizet and Sullivan among others, two centuries later. But others listened carefully; and John Dennis, in line with some 16th-century theorists, drew neat parallels between Greek chorus and modern entr’acte in his Impartial Critick (1693), and in 1699 gave John Eccles careful instructions as to how the act music in their Rinaldo and Armida was to meld with the action, since ‘all the Musick in this Play, even the Musick between the Acts, is part of the Tragedy’.

This is an idea that recurs in Germany a few decades later. By then there were German troupes taking over from France a tradition of public theatre entr’acte-playing parallel in some respects to the English. (In the French line, for instance, between 1672 and 1686 M.-A. Charpentier had written not only danced intermèdes for spoken plays given by the company that became the Comédie-Française, but also several sets of purely instrumental ones.) It is a German essay by J.A. Scheibe on such orchestral stage music in his periodical Critischer Musicus (no.67, 8 Dec 1739: commended and summarized in no.26 of Lessing’s Hamburgische Dramaturgie, 1767) that definitively articulates the concept of carefully integrated, ingeniously mood-specific orchestral overtures, interludes and postludes. It was a concept called on increasingly throughout the Classical and Romantic periods, notably at first in German-speaking areas. Thus a reviewer in 1774 can say of Haydn’s entr’actes for a revival at Eszterháza of Regnard’s 80-year-old comedy Le distrait that ‘Haydn and Regnard vie with each other in producing distrait caprice’ so that ‘the play’s value is much increased’. Leopold Mozart could add detailed plot and character allusions to the manuscript of the near-symphonic entr’actes his son composed for a Salzburg staging in the same decade of Gebler’s Thamos, König in Ägypten; and Beethoven could divide a couple of the entr’actes he wrote for a Viennese revival of Goethe’s Egmont in 1810 into two sections each, the first reflecting the mood of the scene just past, the second adumbrating that of the scene to come: a practice recommended decades before by Dennis and Scheibe. Later and further north, narrative relevance remains important to composers, playwrights and actors. So Bizet in 1872 was praised by Alphonse Daudet for enhancing his peasant tragedy L’Arlésienne with, inter alia, ‘the lovely entr’acte of the family council … wonderfully beautiful, elegant, heart-warming’; and Stanford, writer of the incidental music for the actor-manager Henry Irving’s production of Tennyson’s Beckett in 1893, proudly remembered that Irving ‘always came down to listen behind the curtain to the last entr’acte (The Martyrdom) in order to get into the right mood for the final scene’.

However, by no means all plays in the 18th and 19th centuries had complete or even partial sets of specially composed preludes and interludes. Where some kind of integration of music with spoken script was at a premium, the best hope often was that music might be found from somewhere that would fit the occasion well enough and contribute the desired sense of consequentiality and/or fizz. The need for such may well have been at the back of Locatelli’s mind when he published six Introduttioni teatrali as part of his op.4 in 1735: pieces which by then may well already have opened some plays satisfactorily (in Amsterdam quite possibly) and could well do the same for others in the future; and it was certainly at the back of Schubert’s when, short of time to write an overture to complete his set of incidental pieces for Helmina von Chezy’s Rosamunde, Fürstin von Cypern in 1823, he first called on the one that he had written for Alfonso und Estrella to fill the gap, and later perhaps approved the plan of replacing it with that to Die Zauberharfe (the piece which as a result came to be known as ‘the Overture to Rosamunde’).

Levels of engagement with the drama could be much lower than that. In London in the mid-18th century, for example, inter-act music, like the three ‘musics’ before the show, was generally much more in the audience’s domain, so to speak, than in the play’s, comprising a kind of popular concert of songs, dances and orchestral numbers in rather unsteady harness with the tragedy or comedy in hand: as when a playbill for Shakespeare’s Merry Wives of Windsor at Covent Garden in 1762 promised ‘Between the Acts some Favorite Songs from the English Opera Artaxerxes’. Things were not always much steadier in the 19th century. In 1892, for instance, the acts of Wilde’s Lady Windermere’s Fan at its première were preceded and separated by orchestral selections from Mozart, Schubert, Mendelssohn, Auber, Suppé, Delibes and Godard among others; and a few weeks before, Bernard Shaw, in a piece on incidental music for The World (Music in London, 27 Jan 1892), roguishly affected to hold that the proper music to Hamlet comprised two grand marches by Handel during the action, ‘the entr’actes being selected from no longer popular overtures such as La Sirène, etc.’. Such things make it clear why there was space for Norman O’Neill, musical director at the Haymarket Theatre in London near-continuously from 1909 to 1932, to gain a reputation for increasing the aptness and subtlety of entr’actes for plays lacking purpose-made scores by introducing appropriate novelties and making adaptations from unhackneyed earlier music (by Purcell, Corelli and Vivaldi among others). O’Neill on occasion also continued a late 19th-century practice of writing short, atmospheric preludes to individual acts, played under lowered auditorium lights, so as to ease the audience back into the mood of the play itself after hearing a not over-apt entr’acte or hurrying back from the theatre bar. However, by O’Neill’s time some theatre and music critics were questioning the relevance of orchestral overture, entr’acte and/or act prelude in the spoken theatre. As early as the mid-19th century, Ferdinand Hiller had attacked the whole entr’acte phenomenon (Kölnische Zeitung, 20 Aug 1855) and some German theatres had stopped playing them altogether; such views gained wider currency especially in connection with performances of the novel ‘naturalistic’ drama of modern life and the intellectually demanding ‘drama of ideas’. Theatre managers too were beginning to jib at maintaining expensive pit bands (even ones that composers tended to find constrictingly small) outside opera, operetta, ballet and pantomime. And developments in electronics were poised to bring about a radical change in how things musical were managed between, and during, the acts.

Incidental music, §3: Within dialogue scenes

3. Within dialogue scenes.

(i) Dance and song.

(ii) Supernatural music.

(iii) Mélodrame.

(i) Dance and song.

The drama of the ancient Mediterranean saw the beginnings not only of inter-act music but also of dancing and singing set into scenes of spoken dialogue. Aulos music, and sometimes choral song too, are called for in Greek ‘old comedy’ to accompany episodes of ritual dancing – Aristophanes’ Frogs and The Poet and the Women are examples – and also dances marking the resolution of a play’s action, as in Lysistrata and The Assembly Women. This starts a long line of festive and/or climactic dance in European spoken theatre. It is later manifest in, for example, medieval French farce and Shakespearean romantic drama (the Capulets’ ball in Romeo and Juliet; the ‘measures’ to celebrate the happy endings of As you Like it and Much Ado about Nothing), in the comedias of Lope de Vega and the Italian commedia dell’arte, in Enlightenment comedy (such as the wedding fandango in Act 4 of Beaumarchais’ La folle journée ou Le mariage de Figaro of 1784 and the ‘ballet général’ that concludes the play) and the picturesque, sometimes exotic dance-fêtes and dance-pantomimes ingeniously set into the early 19th-century melodramas of Pixérécourt and his school. A darker line runs through these centuries too: for example, the dances of medieval ‘vice’-figures, sour antimasque-type numbers such as the Dance of Cuckolds that ends Wycherley’s comedy The Country Wife (1675) or the sinister Walpurgis dances in the first part of Goethe’s Faust (1801). In later naturalistic, verismo and avant-garde drama, dance that is ostensibly celebratory is often used with tragic irony: the farandole in the Daudet-Bizet L’Arlésienne, the wild tarantella danced by the trapped Nora in Ibsen’s A Doll’s House; the Dance of the Seven Veils which brings about the climax of Wilde’s Salome (and which combines with Japanese nō-dance precedents to influence Yeats’s ‘Plays for Dancers’). Beckett’s post-World War II drama bids an ‘absurdist’ farewell to the tradition, presenting dance music that cannot be danced to and dancing without dance music: as when the terminally immobilized heroine of Happy Days can only sway to the Merry Widow waltz played by her musical box and the slave Lucky in Waiting for Godot (who ‘used to dance the farandole, the fling, the brawl, the jig, the fandango, and even the hornpipe’) moves through his one sad surviving routine in silence.

As for song in spoken drama, the monody and kommos of Greek tragedy (i.e. the ‘aria’ occasionally given to a principal character, and the sung lament shared between a principal and the chorus) plus the cantica of Latin ‘new comedy’ (passages of verse dialogue, especially frequent in Plautus, where a change of metre signifies a change from speech to some kind of singing): these are early instances of the Western ‘inset lyric’, providing precedents for later play songs, should precedents be necessary when – before the late 19th century, at least – song’s links with the spoken theatre are manifestly so widespread.

Solo song given to flesh-and-blood dramatis personae over the last 500 years is broadly divisible into two categories. First there are the songs sung by characters – principal characters sometimes – who make no claim to any ‘professional’ musical skill. These may find themselves singing in a métier-revealing and/or self-characterizing way as they go about their daily lives: the Grave-Maker in Act 5 of Hamlet, for instance, or Gretchen singing her Ballad of the King of Thule in the Evening scene of Faust. They may be adept at making conversational points through snatches of ballads, chansons, folksongs and other pop tunes, as are Calbain and his wife in the late 15th-century farce Savetier nommé Calbain, Old Merrythought in Beaumont’s The Knight of the Burning Pestle and several of the peasants in Büchner’s Woyzeck (1836). Their wits may have gone lyrically astray, like Ophelia’s in Hamlet or Lyonel’s in Thomas D'Urfey’s A Fool’s Perferment (1688), his six mad songs set for the première by Purcell. Or they may simply be so full of unbuttoned, companionable bonhomie that they burst out with what Feste in Twelfth Night calls a ‘song of good life’, or so full of parental, filial or romantic feeling that they have to express it in a lullaby, a lament or (most often) a love song. (Clärchen in Goethe’s Egmont and Solveig in Ibsen’s Peer Gynt are exemplars of the latter, their songs memorably set by Beethoven and Grieg.) Some lovers – Pantalone on occasion in the commedia dell’arte, for instance, Almaviva in Beaumarchais’ Le barbier de Séville, Peer Gynt himself – even risk personally serenading their mistresses. Others, like the boorish Cloten in Shakespeare’s Cymbeline (with ‘Hark, hark, the lark’), choose more prudently to have their aubading and serenading done for them by paid musicians: and this introduces the other category of solo singers in spoken drama: characters whose singing is a quasi-professional skill, and who can therefore be relied on to deliver more complex songs in a more polished way – and songs on any subject germane to the play. These may be foreground characters like Shakespeare’s fools and clowns and ballad seller Autolycus, or like the guitar-carrying servants (Scapino, Mezzetino) common in commedia dell’arte; or they may be the often anonymous attendant gentlemen, waiting women, music masters, servant musicians and (by definition songful) shepherds or shepherdesses so often called on, in 17th-century Spanish and English theatre especially, to put a musical brake on the action with a song whose sentiments reflect or ironically invert those of the principal characters at that point in the plot. In certain circumstances the ‘professionals’ may be virtually the whole cast of a play, as in such Brecht pieces as Happy End, Die Mutter and Mutter Courage und ihre Kinder (their lyrics set by Weill, Eisler and Dessau respectively): plays embodying Brecht’s belief that characterization should incorporate, not obliterate, the presence of the performer as such, a performer whose skills should include the ability to sing ballads, cabaret-type numbers etc. when such things are ideologically apt and effectively ‘alienating’.

An extension of the solo song is the group song set similarly into the spoken dialogue. Medieval French farceurs had a habit of interrupting the action of their plays with a surprise group-chanson and rounding off the show with another; and (under the influence of 18th-century vaudeville) group singing as a means of unanimous self-expression can break out anywhere in sophisticated mid-19th-century French farce: witness the vocal behaviour of the massed villagers visiting Paris in Labiche’s otherwise almost wholly spoken La cagnotte (1864). But most choral singing in dialogue scenes tends to be more event-specific than that. At appropriate moments there are simple overflows of shared euphoria (songs for cheerful sailors, soldiers, drinkers, harvesters, hunters, gypsies, patriots, wedding guests, nymphs and swains and such) or of shared distress (dirges for mourners, howls for madfolk), and more lengthy and elaborate ‘production numbers’: sung for example by the incense-burning Ancient British priests in Fletcher’s Bonduca (as revised in the 1690s with a Purcell score); the yet more ancient Egyptian priests worshipping the sun to Mozart’s music in Thamos, König in Ägypten; the villagers processing with their Shrovetide effigy in Ostrovsky’s The Snow Maiden (1873), their sung processional set by Tchaikovsky; or the decadent emperor’s retinue in the 1888 revival of Dumas père’s Caligula making a sybaritic anthem out of the Pervigilium Veneris to music by Gabriel Fauré.

Incidental music, §3: Within dialogue scenes

(ii) Supernatural music.

If the beginnings of song and dance for earthbound characters can be traced to Greco-Roman antiquity, the Middle Ages made a major contribution to incidental music through the convention developed in the spoken vernacular religious drama of the time that scenes associated with heaven should in some way be musical. This was a scriptural matter in part: angels are described as ‘cantantes’ in the Vulgate, for example at Revelation xv.3. But it was also partly a philosophic one, since Pythagorean-Platonic-Boethian doctrine held that heaven in a sense was identified with music, and partly an associational one too, since the liturgy in medieval cathedrals and abbeys was wholly sung. Hence in open-air civic theatricals (French miracle-plays and mystères, English Corpus Christi cycles etc.) music accompanies angelic visitations; characters touched by God such as Simeon and the Nativity shepherds may sing; and there is instrumental minstrelsy around God’s throne. The angelic songs were often performed by choristers from religious foundations nearby, hired specially, dressed for the part and bringing with them appropriate chanted (or on occasion polyphonic) Latin psalms, hymns, antiphons etc. (in France sometimes vernacular chansons spirituelles as well).

Similarly in the professional theatre of Golden Age Spain, the theatre of Lope de Vega and Calderón de la Barca, traffic with the Christian heaven (angels descending, saints ascending, the Voice of Conscience, the Word of God) was regularly presented with music. In post-Reformation Protestant countries, on the other hand, there was much less call for such things. However, stage music’s links with the supernatural continued even there, though now largely under a pagan sign. Shakespeare, the crucial (because eventually a hugely influential) case in point, presents the ceremonies of fairies and elves, the doings of a magus and his familiar spirit, and (in dream-visions or inset entertainments) the epiphanies of classical deities. In almost every case some kind of music is involved: partly because such things are direct emanations of a musically ordered cosmos, partly because folklore at the time associated faery with song and dance, and partly because the entries of pagan deities in Elizabethan and Jacobean drama derive from similar entries in courtly masquing, which had music wherever it went. In the long run, Shakespeare’s international fame and his pandemic restaging from the late 18th century onwards were to ensure that supernaturally connected incidental music for his works would be written in many lands and idioms – by Mendelssohn, Sullivan, Chausson and Sibelius, among others. In the shorter run, his musical scenes of the pagan supernatural take their place within the wider 17th-century English convention that music should figure in scenes of spoken drama which involved the operation of magic (white or black) and the presentation of mythological or allegorical ‘visions’ and ‘shows’ of gods, demigods and spirits: as with the moonlit rites of Hecate in Middleton’s The Witch (incorporated in part into the First Folio printing of Shakespeare’s Macbeth) and the Orpheus masque in Settle’s The Empress of Morocco (1673), set for the première by Matthew Locke. (A preponderance of such invocations, epiphanies, visions and shows in the later 17th century – all of them full of song, spectacle and often dance as well – turned a ‘play’ into a ‘semi-opera’.)

A similar convention operated at the time on the continental mainland: in the elaborate mythological plays that Calderón wrote for the court of Philip IV of Spain, for instance. During his prologue to Fortunas de Andrómeda y Perseo (1653), he has the personified Música declare that ‘it is better that the gods do not speak as the mortals do’ but rather ‘have a different harmony in their voice’; and accordingly (as the anonymous surviving score for Fortunas shows) Calderón’s Olympians discourse in song while his earthlings rely mainly on speech. North of the Pyrenees, plays with a high level of Olympian spectacle, like the pièces à machines of the Corneille brothers, called for music at moments of epiphany, heavenly flight, mythic combat, etc. This music, provided by Dassoucy, M.-A. Charpentier and others, added pomp, circumstance and perhaps some echo of the high-Renaissance idea of the harmony of the superlunar cosmos; but it had its pragmatic dimension as well. It ensured sonic continuity through the show. As Pierre Corneille explained in the ‘Argument’ to his Andromède (1650), the concerts de musique in those plays were for ‘the satisfaction of the ears of the spectators while their eyes were taken with the descent or ascent of a machine, or fixed on something which stopped them attending to what the actors might have to say’.

Baroque theatre does not see the end of the tradition that in spoken drama ‘the grateful and needful role of representing what is supernatural and out-of-the-ordinary falls to the lot of music’, as Busoni put it in 1911 re his music for Gozzi’s Turandot (1765). The tradition extends to the less precise otherworldlinesses of the 19th and 20th centuries. These have been on the biggest, most elaborate scale, as in the visions of the Mountain King’s court, the Great Boyg and the singing Leaves, Dewdrops and Broken Straws in Grieg’s music for Ibsen’s Peer Gynt and the mingled mysticisms of D’Annunzio’s neo-medieval Martyre de St Sébastien (where ‘the cult of Adonis joins that of Jesus’, as Debussy, D’Annunzio’s composer, put it); or on a scale more easily manageable in a fairly well resourced early 20th-century theatre, as in the seductive ‘call’ of the Hebridean island in O’Neill’s music for Barrie’s Mary Rose (1920) and the peremptory orchestral summons from the beyond which Britten wrote for J.B. Priestley’s Johnson over Jordan (1939); and on the smallest scale too, as with the use of single instruments in Strindberg’s Ghost Sonata (1907: a mysterious golden harp) and Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman (1947: an invisible flute) to symbolize the desirable ‘otherwheres’ of those plays.

Incidental music, §3: Within dialogue scenes

(iii) Mélodrame.

Instrumentalists in the spoken theatre from the 14th century to the mid-18th did not only perform preludes and interludes, accompany songs and dances, and underscore supernatural happenings. On stage, behind the scenes or in the pit they also provided ‘realistic’ music: music for ceremony (flourishes, triumphal entries, dead marches, etc.), for hunting scenes, for episodes of psychotherapy and stimulus (sweet airs to cure disordered brains, induce sleep, increase desire) and for war: the whole repertory of alarms, charges, retreats, parleys and the like needed for a theatrical battle. Such music does not sound of its own accord; it is almost always attributable to and commissioned by specific human or supernatural agencies within the fiction of the play itself. It was for the later 18th century to add a further resource to a spoken drama in the shape of ‘unattributable’ music: music rising from the orchestra pit which seems to come directly from the minds of a play’s characters or indeed the mind of the playwright, heightening the mood of certain scenes by sounding unbidden between or beneath the characters’ speeches. Several factors may have contributed to the growth of this phenomenon: music’s earlier use to support dumbshows and pantomimes; the spilling over of entr’acte music into adjacent dialogue scenes; the influence of ritornello and recitativo stromentato in opera. But the dominant influence was a new musical form, the mélodrame, as pioneered by J.-J. Rousseau and Georg Benda in the 1760s and 70s (see Melodrama). Spoken plays were soon borrowing and building on its techniques and related ones, and the way was open to a century and a half of within-the-scene mood music. This came in three principal kinds:

(a) First, there were the orchestral scores for the new kind of spoken drama which came itself to be called ‘melodrama’: a genre of Romantic theatre highlighting strong situations, black-and-white morality and sensational turns of events, set often against exotic backgrounds. The scores for melodrama in this sense of the word (by specialist or semi-specialist composers such as Adrien Quaisin, François Amédée, Henry Bishop, Etienne Singla, Robert Stoepel and Henry Sprake) comprised not only the by-now-expected overtures, entr’actes, dances and songs, but also music to underline all of a play’s highly charged dialogue episodes, significant entrances and exits, stirring incidents, strong scene ends and striking tableaux. The music supplied could be extensive (making particular use of the varied repetition of a set of melodic motifs associated with particular characters); but in general it did not force itself on an audience, operating instead in a way rather similar to the period’s versatile new stage lighting by gas, limelight and eventually electricity. Still, like that lighting, it was a crucial determinant of a play’s impact.

(b) The second sort of mood music was something of a poor relation to the first: ‘off-the-peg’ melodrama music, so to speak. For this, a theatre’s musical director would recycle the same all-purpose collection of tried and trusted musical devices over and over again from one melodrama to the next. He might assemble his collection personally, or buy a convenient passe-partout compilation like one advertised (quite late in the tradition) in 1912: ‘Incidental Music Suitable for Lively Rise of Curtain, Entrance of Characters, etc., Hurry, Combat, Apparitions, Pathetic Situations, Martial, etc., etc. Price Piano 4s., Full Orchestra 5s.’ Thereby in part hung the bad name that melodrama began to get in the later 19th century.

(c) At the other pole of mood music was musical mélodrame as it featured in plays other than melodramas. Quite early in the 19th century E.T.A. Hoffmann had written some observations on the use of choruses and mélodrames in spoken plays (Allgemeine deutsche Theater-Zeitung, 17–20 May 1808), warning against uncritical profligacy with under- and inter-speech music, and stressing the need for taste and economy in its deployment. It is in this spirit that most of the major composers who used mélodrame as an element in their scores for tragedies and other kinds of poetic drama do deploy it. Thus there is only one, four-minute mélodrame in the whole of Mozart’s Thamos score, and only one – at a place indicated by the dramatist – in Beethoven’s for Egmont (though there are more in his König Stephan music). The three in Weber’s 1821 score for Wolff’s Cervantes play Preciosa all focus strongly on the heroine. Mendelssohn in his music for A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1843) restricts mélodrame to scenes involving fairy characters, as Elgar later restricts it in his score for Pearn and Blackwood’s fantasy The Starlight Express (1915) to dialogue concerned with imagination and ‘star-sympathy’. All but one of Schumann’s mélodrames in his music for Byron’s Manfred (1848) involve invocations of, or communion with, supernatural or cosmic presences, as all but one of Bizet’s for L’Arlésienne underpin intimate scenes for the two brothers at the centre of Daudet’s tragedy. Where theatrical effect is concerned, ‘less’ in each of these cases arguably means ‘more’.

4. Full sets and changing circumstances.

An overture, songs and entr’actes, a mélodrame leading to music for a supernatural vision, death scene music, a concluding Siegessymphonie: Beethoven’s score for Egmont lacks only dance and chorus music to make it a conspectus of all the ‘incidental’ modes known up to his time. His authority in the 19th century came near to making a set of such pieces in all or most of these modes a canonical ‘form’: a form, indeed, that was worth attempting even if there was no prospect of an actual production of the play to which one’s set was incidental. Thus Schumann had no commission when he imagined an ideal performance of Byron’s Manfred and composed his extensive score for it, detailed down to a two-bar cue to cover the exit of a witch; Sullivan chose as his 1861 graduation exercise from the Leipzig Conservatory an unsolicited set of Tempest pieces; and in 1905 Busoni wrote his set for Gozzi’s Turandot on the pure off-chance that it might one day be useful for a staging of the play in Italy, where since the birth of opera (and outside the commedia dell’arte) incidental music had not flourished. (Weber’s Turandot score of 1809 was not a contender, since it was written for what Busoni considered the over-germanized adaptation of the Gozzi by Schiller.)

If the Egmont set became canonic in status, it was also quasi-symphonic in its method: the final section of the overture is reprised at the very end of the play and one of the heroine’s inset songs is developed in an orchestral entr’acte. In emulation, Schumann and Sullivan (Bizet also in L’Arlésienne) allude to motifs from their overtures later in their incidental sets, Schubert in Rosamunde makes substantial links between his entr’actes and an inset chorus and ballet movement, and Mendelssohn in A Midsummer Night’s Dream mines his overture (independently written 15 years before) and two of his entr’actes for mélodrame material. The drift towards symphonic procedures in these and other composers (something Bernard Shaw describes wittily in the 1892 article on incidental music referred to above) is matched in the late 19th and early 20th centuries by a drift towards Romantic symphonic scale. Thus the scores by Grieg, Debussy, Elgar and Sibelius for, respectively, Peer Gynt, Le martyre de St Sébastien, The Starlight Express and The Tempest are all well over an hour in length – two indeed are close to an hour and a half – and all ideally call for a large orchestra with at least two solo singers and (the Elgar excepted) a chorus as well.

However, the last of these to be written, Sibelius’s Tempest score of 1925, proved to be something of a ne plus ultra. Full sets calling for such large resources and with such extended components became rarities after that, and were all but extinct by the middle of the century. Several factors contributed to this: the increasing reluctance of managements to maintain large pit bands for spoken drama; developments in stagecraft which tended to render lengthy inter-scene music (useful in the 19th century to cover elaborate scene changes) logistically unnecessary; and the spread of the feeling that anyway such music was often aesthetically superfluous (‘beastly tootlings between the acts’, as one objector put it). Modernism had its say too. Four years after Sibelius’s graphic storm-prelude to The Tempest, twice as long and for forces well over twice as big as Locke’s equally graphic ‘curtain tune’ to the play of 250 years before, Paul Claudel wrote in an essay on ‘Modern Drama and Music’ that his preference where theatrical storm music is concerned was in fact not for a large, hidden symphony orchestra but a single and thoroughly visible Japanese kabuki performer ‘with a tiny cup of tea by his side and in front of a tremendous drum, which it is his role to beat’.

The idea of using a visible and minimal band for modernist stage music had already been embodied at its most radical in the single (and musically versatile) figure of the Peuple de Zanzibar in Apollinaire’s ‘drame surréaliste’ of 1917, Les mamelles de Tirésias. And later in the century small ‘chamber’ ensembles, often hidden behind the scenes (as orchestra pits were going out of fashion outside the operatic and balletic world), but sometimes appearing on stage as a static or even actively moving part of the play’s visible presentation, came more and more to be the norm for incidental scores in such theatres as chose, and could afford, to use ‘live’ music. These ensembles, especially when visible to audience and actors, could mesh their music intimately and extensively with their host plays, as for instance in Birtwistle’s score for the Oresteia of Aeschylus as directed by Peter Hall in 1981 – ‘composed around’ (Hall’s phrase) the actors’ verbal responses to the text in rehearsal – and in the music, its materials prepared by Toshi Tsuchitori, that was partly improvised during the performances of Peter Brook’s 1985 staging of the Hindu Mahābhārata.

However, resources for another kind of integration of music and stage had by then become available through 20th-century advances in acoustics and electronics. Between the 1920s and the 1980s these generated the electrical gramophone (with short-playing, then long-playing records, then compact discs) and along the way the tape recorder, synthesizer, computerized sampler and advanced theatrical sound system. This technology could be used simply to play recordings of existing incidental scores, or indeed of operatic and concert music made incidental (sometimes with strong possibilities for irony) by its new use on disc or tape in the playhouse. It could also be used to transmit recordings of specially composed scores for singers and instrumentalists performing in traditional ways. Beyond that, the technology could create its own music (musique concrète, electronic and computer music), either in a ‘pure’ form or blended with sonic ‘atmospheres’ and other sophisticated developments of what traditionally had been the territory of theatrical ‘sound effects’.

So was produced the late 20th-century electronic equivalent, and to an extent descendant, of the assiduous orchestral scores (supplemented with ‘live’ sound effects) of 19th-century melodrama and spectacular drama, able to support or point up any word, mood, movement or visual aspect of a play’s mise en scène. The descent was a direct one in that 19th-century practices had had an impact on the extremely complex musical contributions to the stagings of classic texts directed in the first decades of the 20th century by such consequential figures as Reinhardt (who worked with several composers, Humperdinck especially) and Meyerhold (Mikhail Gnesin, Vissarion Shebalin etc.); and these in their turn influenced later creative directors with more various and ‘advanced’ sound sources at their disposal. A more oblique lineage was by way of the cinema. Melodrama music of the 19th century was the major influence on the music accompanying silent movies, and the latter’s conventions infiltrated the soundtracks of the first talkies, whose influence was later to be felt in the theatre. Film music, however, is another topic, if a closely related one.

5. Afterlives.

Once the sequence of performances of the play for which it was composed has come to an end, incidental music has rarely had much permanence in a theatrical context. Plays often fall out of the repertory, and where they do not, revivals have seldom felt duty-bound to revive all or any of the original score. For example, the surviving music written for The Tempest in its various forms on the London stage in the first century and a half of its existence reveals a complex process of evolution, with contributions from at least ten composers; Racine’s Athalie had its choruses set at least five times; and Maeterlinck’s Pelléas et Mélisande generated at least three different sets of incidental music (by Fauré, Sibelius and William Wallace) in the first dozen years of its stage life. Even those few sets of incidental pieces which have come in particular ages to seem all but inseparable from their host plays tend to find themselves discarded eventually by progressive directors: most notably (after about 70 years in each case) Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream score, dropped by Granville Barker in 1914 – Cecil Sharp found him English folkdance and song with which to replace it – and Grieg’s score for Peer Gynt, dropped in 1948 by Hans Jacob Nilsen who preferred to commission new, tougher and rougher music from Harald Saeverud.

True, stage music has sometimes been kept alive in the theatre by transference from one show to another, as when Grigory Kozintsev re-used Shostakovich’s music for his 1941 production of King Lear, only slightly supplemented, in his 1954 Hamlet. In the name of organic unity, there have been occasional successful pleas since the time of Arnold Dolmetsch’s association with the Elizabethan Stage Society in the 1890s for the re-establishment of the original (or something like the original) incidental music in the case of modern revivals of plays from the past, and less frequently (and less successfully) for special revivals of classic plays incorporating notable scores that they have inspired in intervening periods – though Stravinsky surely had a point when he opined that a modern production of Shakespeare’s Dream with Mendelssohn’s 1840s music would have to be ‘clothed in the provincial German court style of the period’. But by and large, where ‘live’ performance is concerned, most incidental music has been bound for oblivion, unless, that is, some new use can be found for it outside the theatre. Several new uses have in fact been found.

One has been the concert presentation of a complete theatre score with a specially written linking narration performed by an actor: a verbindender Text, early instances being the Egmont narratives by Friedrich Mosengeil (1821) and Franz Grillparzer (1834). Another has been the publication of incidental items for use in non-narrative contexts: for example the several printed collections with such titles as ‘the newest and best songs sung at the court and at the public theatres’ appearing in the English Restoration and aimed at domestic music-making and the new-fangled public music-meetings. In 1697 London saw an ambitious and influential extension of this to purely instrumental music: the publication of A Collection of Ayres, Compos’d for the Theatre, which posthumously printed Purcell’s pre-musics and act tunes for 13 shows (nine plays and four semi-operas), reordering the items into effective free-standing suites, each with an overture followed by a sequence of airs, dances and sometimes ‘song tunes’ arranged from inset songs. The collection is a notable early instance of the idea of a published sequence of incidental pieces meant for non-theatrical performance. This idea had a brief English vogue around 1700, but did not become common until the concert-loving 19th century. There was a growing taste by the 1830s for the concert performance of orchestral stage music – for instance, Henry Bishop had a great success with a programme of his own in Manchester in 1839 – and from the 1870s the published concert suite named after its source play becomes a standard form. Composers preserving some of their incidental music in this way (sometimes reorchestrating it in the process for the bigger forces available in the concert hall) include Bizet, Fauré, Grieg, Sibelius, Nielsen, Vaughan Williams, Korngold, Roussel and Milhaud.

Further, some incidental items have gained new lives as concert miniatures, almost wholly divorced from their theatrical past (the Valse triste of Sibelius, once part of Arvid Järnefelt’s Kuolema; Debussy’s Syrinx, from Gabriel Mourey’s Psyché), and substantial sections from scores originally for the spoken theatre have been given new identities in larger forms by composers not wanting to lose sight of good material. In the 18th century, for example, Handel, loath to see the quite extensive score he had written for Smollett’s unperformed (and now lost) play Alcestis go to waste, reworked it into the all-sung Choice of Hercules; Haydn used his music for Regnard’s Le distrait in his Symphony no.60 in C; and Mozart seems to have had a hand at least in the scheme to provide the sun-worshipping choruses he wrote for Gebler’s Thamos with Christian texts which might encourage frequent church performance. Similarly, in the 20th century, Elgar used elements of his music for Binyon’s play Arthur in the sketches for his unfinished Third Symphony; Ibert turned his score for Labiche’s Un chapeau de paille d’Italie into the independent orchestral Divertissement; and Britten recycled his music for a nightmarish dance of typists and office clerks in Priestley’s Johnson over Jordan as the march variation of his Diversions for piano (left hand) and orchestra.

On the other hand, incidental music has also provided composers with the stimulus and/or part of the substance for an even more ambitious stage work on the subject of the host play. Tchaikovsky and Debussy thought well enough of their big scores for, respectively, The Snow Maiden and Le martyre de St Sébastien to plan turning them into operas, though the appearance of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Snow Maiden put an end to Tchaikovsky’s project as terminal illness did to Debussy’s. But Humperdinck’s very elaborate mélodrame score for Ernst Rosmer’s Königskinder (1897) did develop into his opera of the same name (1910); Busoni’s music for Gozzi’s Turandot was the substantial basis for his Turandot opera of 1917; and Vaughan Williams’s involvement before World War I with the provision of music for Shakespeare’s ‘Henriad’ and Merry Wives of Windsor at the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre, Stratford-on-Avon, led eventually to his Falstaff opera, Sir John in Love (1924–8). But perhaps it is the travels of a few bars of a later Shakespeare score that best exemplify the afterlives of incidental music. Tippett’s music for a production of The Tempest at the Old Vic Theatre in London in 1962 includes a setting of the invocation ‘Come unto these yellow sands’, which was published the same year with keyboard accompaniment as one of Tippett’s three Songs for Ariel, was then alluded to in the Tempest-based Act 3 of his opera The Knot Garden (1966–9), and appears fleetingly in the orchestral Songs for Dov (1970) which grew out of the opera before being given a final home in the cumulative Suite: The Tempest assembled in 1995. So are incidental music’s revels extended.

I. The region: cultural context and musical categories.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

N. O’Neill: ‘Music to Stage Plays’, PMA, xxvii (1910–11), 85–99

A. Aber: Die Musik im Schauspiel (Leipzig, 1926)

D. Hudson: Norman O’Neill: a Life of Music (London, 1945)

R.W. Lowe: ‘Les représentations en musique au Collège Louis-le-Grand’, Revue de la Société d’histoire du théâtre, x (1958), 21–34; xi (1959), 205–12

H.M. Brown: Music in the French Secular Theatre, 1400–1550 (Cambridge, MA, 1963)

P. Hartnoll, ed: Shakespeare in Music (London, 1964)

E.T. Kirby, ed: Total Theatre: a Critical Anthology (New York, 1969) [essays on Reinhardt and by Claudel, 162–74 and 197–208]

N. Pirrotta and E.Povoledo: Li due Orfei: da Poliziano a Monteverdi (Turin, 1969, 2/1975; Eng. trans. as Music and Theatre from Poliziano to Monteverdi, 1982)

D. Mayer: ‘Nineteenth Century Theatre Music’, Theatre Notebook, xxx (1976), 115–22

E.J. Dent: ‘Music for the Cambridge Greek Plays’, Selected Essays, ed. H. Taylor (Cambridge, 1979), 26–36

C. Price: Music in the Restoration Theatre (Ann Arbor, 1979)

J. Dutka: Music in the English Mystery Plays (Kalamazoo, MI, 1980)

D. Mayer: ‘The Music of Melodrama’, Performance and Politics in Popular Drama, ed. D. Bradby, L. James and B. Sharratt (Cambridge, 1980), 49–63

G. Woolfenden: ‘The Composer’s Tale’, Backstage: Who Does What in Theatre, ed. J. Cook (London, 1987), 88–94

J. Wood: Music in Caroline Plays (diss., U. of Edinburgh, 1991)

L.P. Austern: Music in English Children’s Drama of the Later Renaissance (Philadelphia,1991)

L.K. Stein: Songs of Mortals, Dialogues of the Gods: Music and Theatre in Seventeenth-Century Spain (Oxford, 1993)

R. Rastall: The Heavens Singing: Music in Early English Religious Drama (Woodbridge, 1996)

N. Brand: Dramatic Notes: Foregrounding Music in the Dramatic Experience, (Luton, 1998),

Incipit

(Lat.: ‘it begins’).

The opening words or music in a text or composition. First used in the cataloguing of medieval texts – which tend not to have titles as such – the word has been taken as a noun into English. A ‘text incipit’ is the opening fragment of text entered below the music in certain song manuscripts; or it is the text opening in an index. A ‘melodic incipit’ or ‘musical incipit’ is the opening fragment of music used in a melodic index or Thematic catalogue.

Incledon, Charles [Benjamin]

(b St Keverne, Cornwall, bap. 5 Feb 1763; d Worcester, 11 Feb 1826). English tenor. The son of a medical practitioner, he disliked his baptismal name and took the name Charles instead. He was a chorister at Exeter Cathedral under William Jackson and was locally renowned as a boy soloist before he joined the navy, where he attracted attention as a singer. In 1784 he made his stage début in Southampton as Alphonso in Arnold’s Castle of Andalusia and the next year moved to Bath, where he sang with the Bath-Bristol theatre company and studied with Venanzio Rauzzini, who helped him get an engagement in London at Vauxhall Gardens. He sang at Covent Garden (1790–1815) quickly establishing himself as the leading English stage tenor. He made many guest appearances in the provinces and Ireland and from 1802 toured widely with a series of solo entertainments. Incledon made a successful visit to North America in 1817–18, although his voice was then past its prime. His acting was not generally admired but his dramatic rendering of the ballad The Storm (with painted backdrop of a ship in distress) held audiences spellbound. His West Country accent and somewhat flashy personality limited his success as a concert artist, but he sang in several Covent Garden oratorio seasons and was a soloist in the first London performance of The Creation (1800). Haydn had heard him in Shield’s The Woodman (1791) and noted: ‘[Incledon] has a good voice and quite a good style, but he uses the falsetto to excess. He sang a trill on high C and ran up to G’. For many of his contemporaries his impassioned performances of nautical and sentimental ballads exemplified true English singing. Robson (1846) remembered that ‘never was so sound, so rich, so powerful, so sweet an English voice as Incledon’s’.

His eldest son, Charles Venanzio Incledon (1791–1865), sang at Drury Lane in 1829–30 and later lived in Vienna as a teacher of English.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

BDA

DNB (L.M. Middleton)

SainsburyD

A. Pasquin [J. Williams]: The Children of Thespis, ii (London, 13/1792)

[F.G. Waldron]: Candid and Impartial Strictures on the Performers (London, 1795)

J. Roach: Authentic Memoirs of the Green Room (London, 1796)

C.H. Wilson: The Myrtle and Vine (London, 1802)

‘Mr. Incledon’: Quarterly Musical Magazine and Review, i (1818), 78–80

‘Mr Incledon’, The Musical World, xiii (1838), 63–5

W. Robson: The Old Play-Goer (London, 1846)

E. Brown, ed.: Henry Crabb Robinson: the London Theatre, 1811–1866 (London, 1966)

T. Fenner: Leigh Hunt and Opera Criticism (Lawrence, KS, 1972)

T.J. Walsh: Opera in Dublin 1705–1797 (Dublin, 1973)

T.J. Walsh: Opera in Dublin 1798–1820 (Oxford, 1993)

OLIVE BALDWIN, THELMA WILSON

Incorporated Society of Musicians (ISM).

British organization founded in 1882 by James Dawber of Wigan and Henry Hiles of Manchester. Its objectives were ‘the union of the musical profession in a representative society; the provision of opportunities for the discussion of matters connected with the culture and practice of the art; the improvement of musical education; the organisation of musicians in a manner similar to that in which allied professions were organised; and the obtaining of legal recognition by means of the registration of qualified teachers of music as a distinctive body’. At first the society grew mainly in the north of England, but in 1886 it held a conference in London to recruit members from the rest of the country, gaining the membership of a number of influential London musicians. In 1892 it was incorporated as an artistic association and took its present title; in 1893 groups were formed in Scotland and Ireland. The society was reconstituted in 1928 to become more generally representative of the musical profession. While a concern for music education remained an important part of its activities, it no longer holds music examinations. Its stated objectives – ‘to promote the art of music, and maintain the honour and interests of the musical profession’ – still stand in its constitution. In its day-to-day work the ISM pursues three aims: to represent and protect those who work with music; to raise standards within the music profession; and to provide its members with advice and benefits. The society is regularly consulted by government departments and agencies on matters of policy. It has established its own professional development schemes, including postgraduate diplomas for private music teachers. In the late 1990s its membership was some 5000. Past presidents have included Boult, Beecham, Menuhin, Pears, Groves, Mathias, Brymer, Hurwitz and Partridge.

HENRY RAYNOR/NEIL HOYLE

Incredible String Band.

British folk-rock band. Its leading members were Mike Heron (b Glasgow, 12 Dec 1942) and Robin Williamson (b Glasgow, 24 Nov 1943). It was among the most imaginative of the many British groups which attempted to create new musical fusions as part of the underground and psychedelic cultures of the 1960s. Their eponymous début recording (on which Heron and Williamson were joined by Clive Palmer) used Celtic musical forms onto which were grafted elements of blues, pre-1945 American string band and classical Indian music. These wide-ranging stylistic interests were matched by the formidable instrumental skills of Heron and Williamson, who played over 20 instruments between them. The following albums, The 5000 Spirits or the Layers of the Onion (Elek., 1967) and The Hangman's Beautiful Daughter (Elek., 1968), brought these rhapsodic fusions to a peak in such compositions as First Girl I Loved, where shifting melody lines between verses mirrored the fluidity of Williamson's straggling lyrics and melismatic singing; these albums also underlined the pantheism which was a principal preoccupation of the duo's lyrics. This precarious musical and poetic synthesis began to unravel on later recordings and performances, and the Incredible String Band split up in 1974. Heron and Williamson have continued to write, perform and record as solo artists. C. Ford: ‘Gently Tender: the Incredible String Band's Early Albums’ Popular Music, xiv (1995), 175–84

DAVE LAING

Incudine

(It.).

See Anvil.

Indeterminacy.

See Aleatory.

India, subcontinent of.

Cultural region of South Asia. The present Republic of India (Hind. Bharat) has an area (excluding the Pakistan- and China-occupied areas of Jammu and Kashmir) of 3,165,569 km² and an estimated population of one billion people. Before Independence and Partition in 1947, the name ‘India’ referred to the larger region that now includes the nation-states of India, Pakistan and Bangladesh (see Bengali music), also known, along with the nation-states of Bhutan, Nepal and Sri lanka, as South Asia or the Indian subcontinent. In addition to reflecting imperfectly the cultural diversity of South Asia, the modern political boundaries obscure the equally important continuities manifested throughout the region as much in music as in other areas of culture. This article addresses ‘India’ as both a cultural and political entity, and while it focusses on the state of India, much of its content is relevant to the region as a whole. The musical cultures of the other nation-states, and the regions of Kashmir and Bengal, are separately described under their own names.

II. History of classical music

III. Theory and practice of classical music.

IV. Semi-classical genres.

V. Chant

VI. Religious musics

VII. Local traditions

VIII. Film and popular musics

IX. Dance

X. Research

REGULA QURESHI (I, V, 1, VI, 2), HAROLD S. POWERS/RICHARD WIDDESS (III, 1–5), GORDON GEEKIE (III, 6(i)(a)), ALISTAIR DICK (III, 6(i)(b)), HAROLD S. POWERS (III, 6(i)(c)–(ii) and (iv)), HAROLD S. POWERS, GORDON GEEKIE, ALISTAIR DICK (III, 6(iii)(a)), ALISTAIR DICK, DEVDAN SEN (III, 6(iii)(b)), JONATHAN KATZ (III, 7, V, 2), NAZIR A. JAIRAZBHOY/PETER MANUEL (IV), ROBERT SIMON (VI, 1), JOSEPH J. PALACKAL (VI, 3), SONIYA K. BRAR (VI, 4), M. WHITNEY KELTING (VI, 5), EDWARD O. HENRY (VII, 1, 3–5), MARIA LORD (VII, 2), ALISON ARNOLD (VIII, 1), PETER MANUEL (VIII, 2), WARREN PINCKNEY (VIII, 3), KAPILA VATSYAYAN/MARIA LORD (IX), BONNIE C. WADE (X)

India, Subcontinent of, §I: The region: cultural context and musical categories.

I. The region: cultural context and musical categories.

1. Land and people.

2. Music and musicians.

3. Musical categories.

4. Social change.

1. Land and people.

South Asia comprises three broad physical regions: the valleys and plains of the Indus and Ganges river systems, separated from each other by the Thar desert; south India with its heartland of the Deccan plateau, surrounded by coastal regions and including the island of Sri Lanka; and the encompassing ring of mountains that separates South Asia from West, Central and South-east Asia (fig.1).

South Asia’s geographical position gives rise to a climate that has three main annual divisions: winter, summer and the monsoon. These may be further divided, and the resulting seasons have played a prominent role in literature and song, particularly the coming of spring, the onset of the monsoon and, to a lesser extent, the end of the rains.

Although the surrounding mountain ranges and seas have confined and defined South Asia and its populations, people have migrated through the passes and valleys of the north-western mountains and hills for thousands of years. These migrations include the arrival of the Vedic Aryans (c1500 bce), the invasion of Alexander the Great (327–324 bce) and that of Nadir Shah (1739 ce). After Vasco da Gama’s arrival at Kozhikode in 1498, however, the sea became the main medium for the passage of goods, people and ideas into South Asia. By the time of Nadir Shah’s land invasion in 1739, European colonial powers and institutions had established themselves along the coast and in the Ganges delta.

The major movements of populations and cultures in South Asia are reflected in the distribution of languages, peoples and religions, and in the broad outlines of South Asian political history. In the west and north-east the languages and populations reflect those of neighbouring peoples. Baluchi and Pushto, spoken in western Pakistan, are Indo-Iranian languages; the languages of the north-east are Tibeto-Burman. Within South Asia, principally in the central and eastern hills dividing north from south India, remnants of Ādivāsī (‘indigenous’) groups survive, e.g. the Santāls. They have their own religions and speak Austro-Asiatic languages known collectively as Mundā. The Mundā speakers are probably part of the aboriginal population of South Asia, driven into the hills by later migrations of Dravidian-speaking peoples.

Dravidian languages are spoken in south India. Kanada, Malayalam, Tamil and Telugu are the state languages of Karnataka, Kerala, Tamil Nadu and Andhra Pradesh respectively (fig.2). Another Dravidian language is Gondi. Once widely spoken, this is now restricted to small groups of hill peoples. Dravidian languages probably once dominated South Asia, but north of the Vindhyas the only remnant of (and the strongest evidence for) a once widespread Dravidian population are the Brahui in Baluchistan.

In north India most languages belong to the South Asian branch of the Indo-European group. The most widely spoken language is Hindi, used from Delhi to Varanasi. The closely related and Persianized language Urdu is spoken across Pakistan and by many Muslims in India. Punjabi and Rajasthani are closely related to Hindi, and several languages in Bihar (Bhojpuri, Maithili and Magadhi) are usually considered dialects of Hindi. Bengali is spoken in West Bengal and Bangladesh. In western India the languages of Gujarat and Maharashtra are Gujarati and Marathi respectively. Sanskrit is an ancient Indo-European literary and ritual language.

The culturally dominant religions of South Asia are Hinduism and Islam. Although substantial Buddhist populations now remain only in Sri Lanka and the Himalayan region, Buddhism originated in South Asia and, along with Jainism, was dominant there between c500 bce and c500 ce . Around 600 ce Hinduism, driven by the bhakti philosophy of the Tamil Ālvār (Saivite) and Nāyanmār (Vaisnaivite) saints, underwent a great reformation and revival. By the 10th century ce Buddhism was already declining in South Asia when a series of invasions from Afghanistan and Turkestan brought Islam to the north. By the 13th and 14th centuries the Delhi Sultanate had established a pattern that remained unchanged until 1947, despite a long succession of political changes: throughout north India a small, predominantly Muslim ruling class governed a mixed population of Hindus and Muslim converts.

In south India the patterns were rather different. By the 14th century the Tughluk sultans of Delhi had established Muslim rule in the north and west of the Deccan plateau, governing an overwhelmingly Hindu population. In the southern Deccan the Hindu population was ruled by the Hindu Vijayanagar kings (mid- 14th to mid-16th century), with Hindu governors and a Hindu landed class. Even when Vijayanagar power was finally broken, predominantly by the Muslim states of Bijapur and Golconda, there were areas further south, such as Thanjavur and Travancore, which came under only nominal Muslim rule for no more than a few years, if at all.

These patterns were disrupted by the partition of South Asia in 1947. Independence from British rule meant the creation of the nation-states of India, a secular republic, and East and West Pakistan (since 1973 Bangladesh and Pakistan), an Islamic state. The mass exchange of populations that followed, with Hindu and Sikh refugees fleeing to India and Muslims to Pakistan, altered the religious demography of north India and, in particular, that of Pakistan.

South Asia’s climate and geography combine to create extremely fertile agricultural regions, producing surplus economies that have sustained large populations, feudal rulers and non-producing specialists, including musicians. Industrialization has added to this long-established system of production, which principally served an élite and produced an elaborate culture. Mass production, technology and urban expansion have led to an increase of the urban working and middle class, with business élites joining or replacing a landed ruling class.

A highly stratified social order has served to articulate and regulate economic, gender and power relations through group endogamy and through an asymmetry of status relations, where dominance and deference exist between patron and client, resource owner and producer, senior and junior, male and female. Marriages take place largely within the same caste, class or hereditary group, thus maintaining its relative status and preserving the transmission of heritage, including musical skills. Within extended families the asymmetrical principle of seniority permeates kinship relations. Life-cycle music plays a major role in negotiating these relations, performed by women who are the traditional managers of the domestic sphere. Complementary gender roles run throughout the social order, resulting in gendered music-making for both men and women. However, gender may intersect with many other aspects of social identity. Women are often perceived in terms of their relationship with and to male members of their family, including their husband. This private identity has traditionally clashed with the public identity of professional female performers, from temple dancers to courtesans.

This system of social stratification draws on Hindu Vedic thought. At its heart lies the idea that any number of population groups could be accommodated together in vertical and horizontal hierarchies, provided that the groups had separate and clearly defined obligations to society as a whole. Furthermore it was necessary that (in principle at least) such groups were endogamous, so that the membership of a group was purely hereditary. Individuals could leave the group or be expelled from it, or even become the nucleus of a new group, but they could not become members of another group. Such a group is a jāti or caste. Each jāti had its proper duties and forms of behaviour, its own dharma. If what was required was onerous or degrading, an escape was available through the doctrine of rebirth. Faithful performance of dharma (performing rituals, trading, disposing of polluting wastes etc.) would ensure a higher status in the next life.

In practice, the doctrine of social identification and articulation through separate castes or sub-castes enabled invading groups and conquered groups, successful groups and depressed groups, to be accommodated easily into a larger society. Successful invaders could be seen as a warrior sub-caste high in status; a group of forest-dwelling Ādivāsīs absorbed as a low sub-caste. Other religious communities have adapted themselves to this system. Muslims, Sikhs and Christians have distinct endogamous groups, especially among artisans and musicians, albeit with some degree of social mobility.

Around 70% of the population of South Asia lives in socially interlinked regional networks of agricultural villages. Urban centres have also been important from the early Indus valley civilizations onwards. Some cities, such as Trivandrum or Varanasi, grew up around pilgrimage sites or important temples. Others developed as political centres, either because of their strategic location, such as Delhi or Gwalior, or as centres of administration, such as Lucknow or Thanjavur. Cities also grew as market towns or trading centres, including Madras (Chennai), Bombay (Mumbai) and Calcutta, which developed as port cities under British rule. These functions are not mutually exclusive, and many cities have developed in multiple ways; Bombay is now as famous for its film industry as its stock exchange. Often, however, a traditional speciality, of religion, politics or trade (mirroring those of the three twice-born Hindu castes (varna), Brahman, Ksatriya and Vaisya), may still be discerned.

India, Subcontinent of, §I: The region: cultural context and musical categories.

2. Music and musicians.

(i) The South Asian musical realm.

South Asia may be seen as a ‘linguistic area’, with certain phonetic and syntactic features found only in South Asian members of the Indo-European language family in the north and shared by them with the Dravidian languages of the south. Anthropologists have come to consider the special articulation and role of social hierarchies to be characteristic of South Asian societies, pointing to, among other things, the existence of caste among Muslims as well as Hindus. South Asian civilization has also accepted, assimilated and ultimately transformed whatever musical elements have come into its embrace.

The modern South Asian musical realm shares with West Asia an emphasis, at most socio-musical levels, on plucked string instruments and on melodic lines in conjunct motion. A practice shared with South-east Asia is the use of idiophones – cymbals, clappers or gongs – to mark off the spans of musical time cycles.

Another characteristic of the South Asian musical realm is a special emphasis, distinctive both in degree and kind, on drumming. Drummers in South Asia have been free to develop traditions of independence and virtuosity. As in South-east Asia, they are released from having to keep time, as that primary function is assigned elsewhere: in South Asia hand-clapping and hand-waving, cymbals and even cyclically repeating melodic phrases are also available to control the metric cycles. At the same time the South Asian drummer, as in West Asia and unlike in South-east Asia, is associated with only one melodic line at a time.

In the South Asian border regions musical styles, like languages and social practices, are likely to reflect certain features of neighbouring musical practice. Kashmiri singers use a vocal quality similar to that of Persian classical singers, and the plucked sehtār and the mallet-struck santūr are both played with the rapid repeated-note rīz characteristic of West Asian string-instrument technique. The songs of the Sherpas in eastern Nepal use segments of the anhemitonic pentatonic systems common to neighbouring Chinese regions. The Gonds of the hills of eastern south India also use similar systems. However, the more such peoples mix with the settled agricultural populations of the northern plains or south India, the more their song styles are assimilated with or even replaced by those of their neighbours.

Music in South Asian villages is richly diverse, especially in domestic and community song and dance genres bound to both the seasons and life-cycle events. Often linked to agricultural cycles, village music also influences, and is influenced by, urban and art music styles. A distinction may be made between art and non-art musics, with the category of ‘art’ or ‘classical’ music being distinct from those of ‘folk’ or ‘popular’. The Sanskritic tradition recognizes this in the terms mārga (‘way, path [to salvation]’), which implies both the universal and salvific, and deśī (‘provincial, of the country’), implying localized to a region and a community. During the 20th century, decades of recording and broadcasting generated other pan-South Asian musical categories: devotional song, both Hindu and Muslim; popular song, especially film music; and ‘folk’ music in standardized versions of local traditions.

Classical or art music is identifiable not only by its highly regularized systems and rich aesthetic, but also by its patronage by dominant élites. These range from the historical temple and court establishments that included the Moghuls and regional rulers of all religions (e.g. Hindu Vijayanagar and Thanjavur, Muslim Lucknow and Sikh Amritsar), to a coalition that evolved during the 20th century among landed, commercial, professional and government élites across South Asia (e.g. Baroda, Kathmandu, Rampur, Calcutta, Bombay and Madras). The resulting ‘public culture’ of a cosmopolitan bourgeois art music rests on a normative synthesis of musical principles and practices that today define Indian classical music as a cultural and sonic system. Based on the cumulative work of Indian musicologists from V.N. Bhatkhande to the contributors to the current Indian Musicological Journal, this normative conception of an Indian art music is articulated in teaching and performance by music academies in large urban centres (e.g. the Music Academy, Madras, and the Sangeet Research Academy, Calcutta); it also forms the basis for the teaching of South Asian music internationally.

(ii) Art music.

(a) Legitimizing criteria.

In South Asia the concept of art music is based on an amalgam of scriptural foundation and oral transmission. Authoritative theoretical doctrine and a disciplined oral tradition of performance extending back over several generations are the two complementary criteria that serve to legitimize Indian art music and its theoretical and historical foundation.

The Sanskrit term śāstra means either a text containing an authoritative exposition of doctrine in a particular field, or the body of doctrine itself. A field of knowledge or an art must be embodied in a śāstra to be fully legitimate; nātya-śāstra is the theory of dramaturgy, and its junior branch, sangīta-śāstra, is the theory of vocal music, instrumental music and dance. Nātya-śāstra now generally pertains only to representational performance, including dance, and sangīta-śāstra governs only vocal and instrumental music.

Varying aspects of śāstra may have varying degrees of relevance to practice, or no relevance at all, but for South Asian art music the legitimizing agent is śāstra. For music theory and practice there is one aspect of the traditions of sangīta-śāstra that must be represented for a performance tradition to be deemed ‘classical’: melodic configurations must be governed by one or another rāga. Rāga is usually translated as ‘mode’ or, more accurately, ‘melody type’ (see §III, 2 below; see also Mode, §V, 3). In Hindi the formal expression for ‘classical music’ (besides the English) is śāstrīya-sangīt, but the common equivalent for ‘classical’ is simply rāgdār (‘having a rāga’). Most widely used in the oral tradition of hereditary musicians is the term pakkā (‘mature’, ‘cooked’, ‘perfected’). A generic term for classical music, it is always applied to vocal music, as in pakkā gānā.

The terms used to refer to the second legitimizing criterion of authenticated performing practice are sampradāya (‘tradition’) and paramparā (‘succession’). These criteria and the Sanskrit terms associated with them are valid for all South Asian ‘classical’ traditions, Muslim and Hindu alike, with differences only in balance or emphasis. A ‘pure tradition’ (śuddha sampradāya) authenticated by a reputable ‘master-disciple succession’ (guru-śisya paramparā) may be considered to denote that musicians performing classical music should have a ‘professional’ standing; however, such a standing need not be confined to those who practise their art as a means of livelihood. The standing of an artist is determined by discipulary pedigree, by a reputation for devotion to the art, and by what the artist knows, as well as by his or her skill as a performer.

It is essential not only for an artist to have learnt from a master but also that the master have a reputable artistic pedigree. Sometimes (particularly in Muslim musical traditions) the art is a hereditary family property, and in the past the most revered items or techniques were sometimes given only to the eldest son. Usually in Hindu musical traditions, and often in Muslim traditions also, the succession from master to disciple is outside the family. However, the ideal relationship requires the disciple to live in the teacher’s house and serve him devotedly, as though a member of the guru’s household (guru-kula). Although this requirement is often necessarily abrogated, it is still followed to whatever extent may be possible. Important is the religiously sanctioned tie (both Hindu and Muslim) that binds teacher to disciple, as expressed in the gandā bandhan (thread tying) or shāgirdī (discipleship) ceremony.

Honour to one’s teacher and a reputation for concentrated hard practice extending over many student years (Sanskrit: sādhanā; Persian: riāz) are two of the main proofs of an artist’s devotion to the artistic heritage. Another aspect is devotion of a purely spiritual kind. Although most musicians earn a living by their art, both the years of discipline and the resultant knowledge and skill would in an ideal world be a devotional act.

Finally, of course, high professional standing as a ‘classical’ artist entails a minimum standard of performance, and many classical artists are technically very highly skilled. Knowledge and control of a large repertory of musical items not otherwise widely known, but recognized as part of a reputable tradition, are also particularly esteemed.

(b) Northern and southern styles.

In South Asia there are two traditions of art music. Hindustani (or north Indian) classical music represents the region where Indo-European languages are spoken (including Pakistan and Bangladesh). In the Dravidian-speaking areas (i.e. most of south India) the tradition is that of Karnatak (or south Indian) classical music. Hindustani and Karnatak music are the same in essential abstract features but different in detail. The basic structure of typical ensembles is common to both: in addition to a drone there are three separate and independent musical roles, assigned to three classes of medium. The primary melodic material is traditionally carried by a singer, a plucked string instrument or a reed instrument. Antiphonal or accompanying melodic material is sometimes provided by a bowed instrument (with the singer) or a second reed instrument; bowed instruments and transverse flutes are now used as solo melodic instruments. Drums provide an independent rhythmic stratum, from simple configurative cyclic patterns to complex virtuoso passages. Rhythmic and melodic parts in ensemble are held together on a third level, provided by idiophones or hand-clapping or both, marking out the time cycles. This threefold melodic, rhythmic and metric distinction of role is not only common to both South Asian classical styles but is relevant for non-classical ensembles as well. However, the specific characteristics of these three basic roles differ, and even vocal production is strikingly dissimilar in the two styles.

Likewise an adherence to rāga and tāla (time cycle) and their basic principles is common to the two styles, and many rāga and tāla names are identical, although the actual pitch content of the rāga and the measures of the tāla are usually different. In similar fashion, fundamental categories of performing practice are nearly the same, but the preferred expository techniques, ornamental styles and use of tempo are different and differently apportioned. The two musical styles are in essence very similar but not mutually intelligible.

A parallel set of observations can be made with respect to the socio-musical features of the recent past, still reflected in many aspects of the current scene. Hindustani classical musicians from the 17th to the 19th century were mostly Muslim, largely associated with courts, normally considered fairly low in the caste hierarchy, and concerned less with śāstra (doctrine) than with guarding their sampradāya (oral traditions); the common pair of terms for ‘master-disciple’ was the Persian ustād-shāgird, which carries the connotation of master craftsman and apprentice. In the south the Sanskrit equivalent guru-śisya has a cultural connotation nearer that of spiritual teacher and disciple, and the musicians were almost entirely Hindus, certain of the melodic sub-categories, even being dominated by high-caste Brahmans. Art music was strongly associated with temples and with more individualized religious devotion, as well as with courts.

From the 17th to the 19th century the stylistic distinction between Karnatak and Hindustani can be closely correlated with the more general South Asian dichotomy between Hindu and Muslim, and there is a corresponding contrast between Sanskrit and Persian words in much of the technical terminology of practising musicians, particularly with reference to instruments. From this it has been almost universally inferred that the differences in the two art music styles are a result of Muslim influences and importations in the north that caused an originally unified tradition to divide into a northern, foreign-influenced branch and a southern branch that was more conservative and truer to its ancient heritage. This is true only if the categorical types are confounded: two general classes of sampradāya and one accepted tradition of śāstra. The two kinds of classical music are demonstrably quite separate and distinct from one another from at least the 16th century onwards and probably were for some time before that, yet both are equally distant from what is reported in the 13th-century treatise Sangīta-ratnākara by Śārngadeva.

India, Subcontinent of, §I: The region: cultural context and musical categories.

3. Musical categories.

The considerable diversity in local and regional musical practices in South Asia and the variety of contexts in which music plays an essential role may be distinguished in terms of purpose, setting and medium. Purpose refers to a continuum extending from entertainment to ritual and devotion, and usually incorporating aspects of both. Setting denotes in general outside versus inside, village versus temple (or shrine) and court, and city street versus concert auditorium. Medium is not concerned with only purely musical performance but also associated arts; its three basic varieties may be designated as vocal, instrumental and representational. These categories are based on the three branches ascribed to sangīta (‘music’) in the oldest stage of śāstra, namely, gīta (‘song’), vādya (‘instruments’) and nrtta (‘dance’). Vocal music is linked with a verbal text; instrumental music may exist independently or accompany vocal music; representational music may be vocal, instrumental or both, and it accompanies visual representation of one sort or another. These categories interact: the voice sometimes sings no meaningful text or is otherwise treated as an instrument, and in certain kinds of representational musical performance the entire burden of evoking specific images may rest on the vividness of a spoken or sung narration.

(i) Ritual and ceremonial music.

(ii) Representational music.

(iii) Devotional songs and musical form.

India, Subcontinent of, §I, 3: The region: cultural context and musical categories., Musical categories.

(i) Ritual and ceremonial music.

Some purely ritual music falls outside the normative domain of music; the oldest ritual music of this type is Vedic recitation. In one Sanskrit source, the Nāradīya śiksā, the pitch names used for singing the Sāmaveda are equated with classical note names; the first half of this work is in fact a summary treatise on music theory incorporated into what is primarily a manual adjunct to the Veda. On this authority modern writers often begin historically orientated discussions of Indian classical music by referring to or discussing the chanting of the Rgveda and the elaborate transformation of some of its hymns in the gāna (singing or chanting) of the Sāmaveda through interpolated syllables and an expansion of the pitches. However, sangīta-śāstra (musical theory) does not discuss Vedic recitation or singing beyond giving the equivalent note names, nor are Vedic specialists considered musicians, by themselves or by others (see §V, 2 below).

Certain quasi-musical aspects of temple ritual are also not normally considered music, such as the sounding of bells during temple pūjā (worship). Similarly, the blowing of the conch-shell (śankha) is normally a ritual, not a musical, event, although the conch is also used evocatively in a musical event, for example to symbolize divine intervention in performances of kathakali in Kerala. On the other hand, such special instrumental practices as the accompaniment of temple ritual with the pañca-mukha-vādyam (five-faced pot drum) and maddalam (drum) in the temple at Tiruvarur (in the Kaveri delta) are well within the domain of music, since drums as a class are by no means exclusively ritual instruments, unlike large bells or the conch.

Also associated with south Indian temples is the processional periya melam (‘major ensemble’), comprising double-reed nāgasvaram (shawm), the tavil (drum) and tālam (cymbals). The cinna melam (‘minor ensemble’) accompanies the temple and formerly court dance now called bharata-nātyam. The music of both ensembles is Karnatak. The Hindustani equivalents of the periya melam are based on the somewhat smaller double-reed śahnāī (shawm), used formerly in the ceremonial naubat ensembles of Muslim courts and shrines, and in most Hindu temples (see §III, 6 below). Musicians of all these ensembles belong to low-status castes; in the north they are also normally Muslims, even those employed at Hindu temples.

India, Subcontinent of, §I, 3: The region: cultural context and musical categories., Musical categories.

(ii) Representational music.

The nucleus of most traditional entertainment is story-telling. Narrative in its broadest sense ranges from verbal exposition of a tale to its presentation with pictures, puppets, acting, costume, make-up or dance, in any combination, accompanied by recitation, singing and instruments. Since in South Asia the Islamic prohibition against human depiction (apart from manuscript illustration) has considerable force, representational music is almost entirely Hindu.

The Chitrakars of West Bengal paint scrolls illustrating scenes of stories from the Hindu epics and travel about telling the stories in song as the scrolls are unrolled to show the individual pictures. The same is done by travelling groups in south-western Rajasthan. Shadow-puppet theatre is found in four areas of southern India – Orissa and Andhra Pradesh to the north-east, Karnataka and Kerala to the south-west – and puppet shows are seen in Thanjavur, Orissa, Rajasthan and elsewhere. In Rajasthan the puppeteer’s wife sings and plays the drum; the shadow puppets of the Andhra tolu bom-malāttam are accompanied by singing, flute and drums.

Varying relationships with Karnatak music are well illustrated by an interlocking complex of traditional genres of musical representation with human actors in south India. In 16th-century Vijayanagar there was a genre called yaksagāna, which consisted of a long narrative poem in Telegu to be sung and acted. Several varieties of yaksagāna still survive, and in all cases the performing practice calls for an ensemble that includes one or more singers who sing the narrative verses freely, using traditional melodic types, and who also sing a number of set pieces. Instruments provide melodic, rhythmic and time-keeping accompaniment. In some varieties of the genre the actors too may sing, or even speak, in amplification of the text, but their main function is to enact the text in the coded performance called abhinaya.

Two forms of yaksagāna in the south-east are the dance-drama from the village of Kuchipudi in the Krishna-Godavari delta and the bhāgavata-melanātakam (‘devotee-singers’ group-drama’) from Melattur village, inland from the Kaveri delta. Both are in principle associated with temples. The performers are male Brahmans whose ancestors were endowed with property so that they and their descendants might continue performing yaksagāna on Hindu religious myths. All three fundamental musical functions are represented in the Kuchipudi ensemble of flute (melodic accompaniment), mrdangam (rhythmic drumming) and cymbals (time-keeping), which are played by the leader (who also represents the most important secondary character). The musical procedures, rāgas and vocal production are those of Karnatak music.

The yaksagāna of Karnataka is performed by travelling troupes. Its affinity with Karnatak music is hardly less than that of the Kuchipudi and Melattur traditions. In its musical ensemble it has a strong affinity with Kerala, in that there is no melodic accompanying instrument for the singer, the two drums are Keralan types, and the time is sometimes kept by a flat gong as well as by cymbals. Also reminiscent of Kerala is the fact that many of the male characters have elaborate stylized head-dresses.

The ensemble that accompanies the kathakali dance-drama of Kerala comprises two singers, maddalam (barrel drum), centā (cylindrical drum), itekka (hourglass drum), cennalam (flat gong) and ilatālam (cymbals). The system and the tālas in kathakali music are not those of Karnatak music, although each individual tāla has a parallel in the Karnatak system. Most of the rāgas, however, have become largely assimilated as Karnatak rāgas, and few kathakali rāgas have different names.

Similar kinds of partial affinity with art music traditions may be observed in all other areas of South Asia. An example is the evolution of Marathi musical theatre after the 1840s from a form in which narrative and songs were sung by one person throughout in a single style, while actors handled only dialogue, to a complex musical genre using singers specializing in different styles for different roles, and incorporating not only stylistic influences but also rāgas and actual tunes from Hindustani classical and semi-classical music.

India, Subcontinent of, §I, 3: The region: cultural context and musical categories., Musical categories.

(iii) Devotional songs and musical form.

(a) Tamil: the oldest songs.

The oldest surviving poetry is in Tamil and dates from the 7th century to the 10th. The poems were assembled c1000 into two great collections: the Tēvāram, which contains songs to Śiva, and the Nālāyirativviyappirapantam, which is devoted to Visnu. Hymns from these collections are still sung in temples of the respective sects in Tamil Nadu. The Saivite Tēvāram are sung only in temples, by a class of temple singer called oduvār; they are grouped according to melodic types called pan and specific tunes called kattalai. Most of the pan now correspond quite precisely to melody types in the current canonical roster. Songs from the Vaisnava Nālāyirativviyappirapantam are sung not only in Vaisnava temples (such as the Ranganāthan temple at Srirangam) but also in private devotions and in concerts; tunes in Karnatak rāgas are used. Modern tunes in Karnatak rāgas are also used for singing the 15th-century Tiruppukal (‘blessed praises’) of Arunakiriyār, a devotee of the god Murukan, very popular in Tamil Nadu; the rhythms, however, are usually sung to follow the complex metres of Arunakiriyār’s verse.

(b) Gīta-govinda: the model form.

Sung throughout India, Jayadeva’s 12th-century Sanskrit poem Gīta-govinda is a sequential series of 24 songs set in a matrix of verses concerning the love of Krsna for his mistress-consort Rādhā. The Gīta-govinda has flourished alongside later devotional songs in other languages, and songs from it may still be heard in many areas in India, rendered in many different ways. Its content, saturated with mādhurya bhāva, the ‘tender emotion’ of erotic love, is perhaps no more than an intensification of the emotional theism of the Bhāgavata purāna; in its form, however, the Gīta-govinda is a departure from the traditional conventions of Sanskrit poetry and gives a clear illustration of new aspects of devotional song, ranging from syllabically sung nāmāvali (lists of divine names) to the complex vocal performance traditions of Hindustani and Karnatak music.

The narrative verses of the Gīta-govinda are set in conventional classical Sanskrit metres, each line with a fixed number and distribution of long (–) and short () syllables ( + = –). The songs, however, use metres based on the number of short syllables to a line. The most common is the four-unit catur-mātrā (– –, – , –, and, with some restriction, – ), but the five-unit pañca-mātrā (––, –, –, and, with some restriction, – – and – –) is used in several songs. Metres of this kind play a minor role in Sanskrit but are essential to poetry meant to be sung.

Classical Sanskrit poetry uses consecutive four-line stanzas; the songs in the Gīta-govinda, conversely, are closed refrain forms. Each of the 24 songs comprises a refrain (dhruvā) and eight stanzas, called pada; hence the common designation asta-padī (‘having eight stanzas’) for a Gīta-govinda song. After each stanza the refrain is sung, and the text is structured semantically and often grammatically so that the independent refrain is also a logical or even a necessary completion of the stanza. In the performance of bhajan s (devotional songs) a leader and a group normally sing the stanzas and refrain alternately. There is a musical as well as textual contrast between the theme of the refrain and the theme of the verse, and there is usually a musical and a textual end-rhyme common to refrain and verse. These three textually determined features – leading back, contrast of refrain and verse, and musical rhyme – are fundamental to the performing practice not only of bhajan singing but also of Hindustani and Karnatak music. The very structure of rāgas, quite apart from their embodiment in performance, has to be seen in terms of these same three features: connections in line, contrast in registers and parallelism in melodic motifs.

(c) Devotional poetry in north India.

Each of the 24 asta-padī of the Gīta-govinda is designated in the manuscript sources as to be sung in a specific rāga and tāla. In no part of India is it sung with the varying rāgas and tālas prescribed in manuscript sources, but it is often locally associated with series of rāgas and tālas; the common current south Indian traditional settings are said to date from the 17th century. Later devotional songs in the vernacular, such as the Sūr sāgar of Sūr Dās, are also frequently found with rāgas (not tālas) specified in manuscript sources. The sacred book of the Sikhs, the Guru Granth Sāhib, is a compilation completed in 1604 of devotional songs not only by the founder of the sect, Guru Nānak, but also by other 15th- and 16th-century devotional poets, especially Kabīr. The main body of the collection is divided into 30 sections called ‘rāga’ (the 31st was added later), each named after a specific rāga.

Devotional songs from the 15th and 16th centuries in Indo-European languages, like the 12th-century asta-padī songs of Jayadeva, are now not usually sung in the rāgas ascribed to them in manuscript sources, and usually not in a rāga at all.

(d) Kanada and Telugu devotional songs.

The oldest repertory of Dravidian-language devotional songs to extend throughout south India are the Kanada kīrtana of Purandara Dasa (d 1564); although their actual melodic tradition is now effectively lost, they were (and still are) sung in rāgas and tālas. Purandara Dasa was active in the area of the Deccan where the imperial court of Vijayanagar was located and died just a year before the battle in which that court was destroyed and the remnants of the imperial family fled southwards. The tradition of bhakti (devotional) song in Kanada declined after his death and was revived in the 17th century.

Two important Telugu bhaktas (devotees) from Andhra in the 17th century were Ksetrayya from the Krishna-Godavari delta and Rāma Dāsa from Bhadracala (in the then Muslim sultanate of Golconda, later Hyderabad). Bhadracala Rāma Dāsa’s songs are sung only by bhajan groups, but the songs (padam) of Ksetrayya devoted to Krsna became a basic element of the temple dance of the cinna melam and an essential part of the south Indian musical repertory. Ksetrayya spent some time at the court of Vijayaraghava Nāyak of Thanjavur (reigned 1634–73), for whom he composed several laudatory songs, but most of his padam compositions concern Muvva-gopāla, the image of Krsna in the temple of his native village.

In the latter part of the 18th century the most important modern south Indian procedures of devotional bhajan (or kīrtanam) were devised, and the musical repertory assembled or provided, by devotional poets Bodhendra, Ayyaval and Sadgurusvāmi. At this time Tyāgarāja (1767–1847) was undergoing his musical and spiritual training. Tyāgarāja is now esteemed as the foremost composer of the modern south Indian tradition of classical music. Early in his life he became a devotee of Rāma, who (like Krsna) is believed to be an avatar (incarnation) of Visnu. The characteristic devotional attitude of the Krsna cult is mādhurya bhāva (‘attitude of sexual love’), exemplified by the gopī (‘milkmaids’) and especially Rādhā; the devotees of Rāma, conversely, tend to favour the dāsya-bhāva (‘attitude of devoted service’), as exemplified by Rāma’s brother Laksmana and especially by the monkey prince Hanūmān. In Tyāgarāja in the early 19th century two major streams of south Indian musical tradition were fully united: Vaisnava devotional song and the tradition of the Thanjavur court musicians. Tyāgarāja’s kriti compositions are now part of the central repertory of Karnatak music, yet the songs he made for his own bhajan s also play a major role in any organized session of devotional singing.

(e) Muslim devotional music.

For Hindus music was and is an integral part of worship, temple and private alike, while for Muslims even ‘secular’ music was frequently subjected to orthodox attack, and in principle no music was used for public worship, even the most artful cantillation of the Qu’ran being defined as non-musical reading. Thus, for Muslims, devotional music and classical music at court were necessarily much more distinct from one another than they were for Hindus. Nonetheless, there are some connections.

The most important type of Muslim devotional music is qavvālī, sung at the shrine of a Sufi pīr (‘saint’), especially at the saint’s anniversary, and traditionally performed by specialist musicians called Qavvāl. There is now no necessary connection with classical music, but in the 18th and 19th centuries Qavvāl-bacce sang the khayāl (a classical song form) and were among its important exponents. Some items of the traditional repertory of compositions for Hindustani music were drawn from qavvālī. A number of traditional khayāl dating from the 18th century, which are still sung, honour important pīr of the Chishtī order. These khayāl texts on Sufi saints differ from other khayāl texts only in vocabulary.

Another Muslim devotional practice that has some connection to classical Hindustani court music is the music used by Shi‘a Muslim groups in the month of Muharram, lamenting the martyrdom of Hasan and Husayn. One of the songs used is called marsiyā, and some classical musicians used to specialize in marsiyā singing. Singers of Shi‘a mourning hymns like sōz and marsiyā still use classical rāgas.

India, Subcontinent of, §I: The region: cultural context and musical categories.

4. Social change.

Distinct musical categories are traditionally associated with distinct performing communities consisting of specialist performers who are linked to particular patrons and musical associations. Bismillah Khan playing śahnāī for temple rituals in Varanasi, Sufi Qavvāls at Delhi’s Nizamuddin Sufi shrine, musicians at the Jaipur court, mendicant singers in north Indian villages or hereditary dancer-singers, both male and female, among the Mundā in Bihar, have all provided appropriate music and dance for quasi-feudal patrons. However, urbanization and the waning of feudalism have also generated opportunities for social mobility among hereditary performers. Among the Barot, many Gujarati genealogist-musicians who by birth are attached to minor feudal patrons have moved into better paying urban métiers, leaving less endowed non-Barots to replace them and take on their caste name.

Among Muslims, social mobility has long been demonstrated by the Mīrāsīs’ rise from Punjabi village entertainers to court musicians, and today to higher education and international stardom. Most remarkable has been the middle class initiative across the country to become classical performers, a move that has fundamentally altered the social structure of music-making by replacing hereditary professional identity with bourgeois professionalism. This movement has, however, also profoundly damaged the musical standing and livelihood of lower-status hereditary musicians, especially women who as courtesans or devadāsī s (temple dancers) have been stigmatized by the now dominant Indian middle class.

After 50 years of independence the established musical conservatism and categories generated by nationalist agendas are beginning to give way to questions and innovations under the influence of new sound technologies that have enabled local control of musical production as well as the international dissemination of and participation in all kinds of South Asian musics.

II. History of classical music

2. To the mid-16th century.

3. Music and theory after the 16th century.

4. Oral traditions after the 16th century.

5. Classical music, the state and the middle class.

6. Indian music and the West.

India, Subcontinent of, §II: History of classical music

1. Introduction.

For South Asian classical music the primary historical sources are the same as the legitimizing agents: authoritative traditions (sampradāya) of existing musical practice (prayoga) and canonical theory (śāstra; see §I, 2(ii)(a) above). Because the two ‘classical’ performing traditions were until modern times transmitted entirely orally, evidence documenting musical details of actual past practices is sparse. Doctrine, however, has been transmitted through manuscripts for centuries.

Divisions in South Asian music history, therefore, are primarily determined by the nature of the sources, which are then correlated as much as possible with more general political and cultural history. Considered in this light, there are three major epochs in music history: up to the mid-13th century; from the mid-13th century to the mid-16th; and from the mid-16th century onwards. They may be termed ancient, medieval and modern respectively.

No existing sampradāya of classical music has any direct connection with the ancient period, whose sources for music history are only textual and iconographic. Textual sources are technical discussions in Sanskrit treatises and passing references in literature, mainly in Sanskrit, Prakrit and Tamil. Iconographic sources consist of numerous sculptures of musicians and their instruments. Both types of source suggest regional diversity as well as historical change, but the absence of immediately apprehendable evidence of incompatible musical practices and the use of Sanskrit as the language of discourse have encouraged a monolithic view of ancient music. This attitude is furthered by the monumental Sangīta-ratnākara, a treatise on music composed between 1210 and 1247 in Devagiri (modern Daulatabad), in the north-west of the Deccan, by Śārngadeva, a Brahman of Kashmiri descent. This work is a watershed in South Asian music history. It contains a vast amount of older doctrine and lore, organized in seven coherent sections. The substance of ancient śāstra was transmitted to later writers through the Sangīta-ratnākara, whose form determined the categories of South Asian music theory from then on.

Between the clearly marked end of the ancient period in the 13th century and the earliest documentation of prototypes of modern classical practices in the 16th century lies what is here called the medieval period. During these centuries the attempted southern expansion of the Delhi sultanate took place, followed by its fragmentation after Timur’s invasion of 1398 and ultimately the reconquest of the fragments by Akbar. The Deccan Muslim courts and the Hindu empire of Vijayanagar in peninsular India were also established during this period. Although direct connections from these centuries to the present traditions of music cannot be firmly proved, the outlines of the modern period are unmistakable. Historical sources (although from a much later period) abound in anecdotes about historical personages and music, and some of the musical traditions reported may well be sources for those we know directly. From this period it is already possible to infer a distinction between northern and southern musical regions, a distinction that is historical and ultimately geographical in its origins. Anecdotes show that musicians moved back and forth with the shifting fortunes of the various Muslim and Rājpūt courts in the Indo-Gangetic plain and similarly between the closely neighbouring Muslim and Vijayanagar courts in the peninsula. Musical exchanges across the Vindhyas, on the other hand, are reported only as a consequence of major military excursions. The familiar equation of Hindustani–Karnatak with Muslim–Hindu, thence hybrid–pure, and ultimately foreign–native, is a result of the fact that the radial centres of the latest phases of the two styles were Muslim Delhi and Hindu Thanjavur. However, before the shift of the centre of gravity of Karnatak music from Vijayanagar in the Deccan to the Kaveri delta in the far south in the late 16th century, the Hindu and Muslim courts in the peninsula had been as close as the Hindu and Muslim courts of the Rājpūts and the Ganges-Yamuna Doab, and for almost as long.

Devotional theism had its most phenomenal development during the period from 1300 to 1600. The deep connection of not only its content but also its form with the underlying bases of the modern classical musical practices has been outlined above. Where both practices and historical anecdotes of the medieval period appear to look forward to the modern period, Sanskrit theoretical writings on music contain only fragmentary (though very interesting) foreshadowings of practices and ideas that take on a familiar look in both theory and practice only in the late 16th century.

The third period of music history is dominated by the history of sampradāya as embodied in the canonical traditions of Hindustani and Karnatak music. Both traditions can establish a claim to 16th-century roots, of which something demonstrably still survives. Dhrupad compositions of Akbar’s court musician Tānsen are known, and many existing musical lineages are traced to Tānsen’s family and immediate successors at the Mughal court. In the south the elementary teaching system for Karnatak music is attributed to Purandaradāsa (c1484–1564), although the padam compositions of Ksētrayya (fl 1635–59) constitute the oldest repertory whose actual performance tradition is reasonably certain to be continuous. From succeeding centuries evidence for the continuity of northern and southern traditions becomes more plentiful and more consistently dependable, and by the mid-19th century, names are known and practices confirmed that belong wholly to the modern era. In addition, some regional traditions of religious, devotional or dramatic music have been formalized with theoretical and procedural terminologies. In Bengal there are well-developed traditions of kīrtan performance, and attempts have been made to secure for Orissan music a canonical status analogous to Hindustani and Karnatak music.

The beginning of the modern period is even more clearly marked by the abrupt appearance of new theoretical work. Between 1550 and 1800 many technical treatises were written that are recognizably connected with practices musically ancestral to the present performance traditions. These treatises, by their attempts to incorporate or refute the doctrines of the Sangīta-ratnākara, often show that their understanding of the written remnants from the ancient period was no better than ours. During the 19th century, however, little theoretical work was produced, and almost none in Sanskrit; important new theory appeared only in the 20th century.

Before 1250, South Asian musical historiography is concerned with icons, literature and especially treatises. So little can be inferred of actual musical practices that it is practicable, even desirable, to consider the subcontinent as a whole. After 1250, and particularly after 1550, treatises continue to play a major role in musical historiography until the 19th century, but they now have to be considered from several angles. The history of sangīta-śāstra (‘musical doctrines’) can still be studied in its own right, but treatises should also be examined carefully for the considerable light they shed on ever more recognizable features of modern canonical performance traditions. Furthermore, the sources after 1550 generally have clear affinities to either northern or southern musics, affinities that must be established and discriminated as closely as possible. Nijenhuis (1977) made a survey of the Sanskrit works then printed, and several treasties have been published since then.

India, Subcontinent of, §II: History of classical music

2. To the mid-16th century.

(i) The ancient period.

(ii) The medieval period.

India, Subcontinent of, §II, 2: History of classical music, To the mid-16th century.

(i) The ancient period.

(a) Treatises.

Because of the nature of the sources, the ancient period can be divided further, in terms of music theory, at the 8th century. The first part of the period comprises material contained only in the Nātyaśāstra, whose musical portions probably belong to the Gupta period (4th and 5th centuries). New theoretical material in the Brhad-deśī from the 8th or 9th century, and from later treatises up to and including the Sangīta-ratnākara (13th century), belongs to the second part of the ancient period.

The Nātyaśāstra (‘dramaturgy’) is the earliest surviving source not only of dramatic theory but also of musical theory, poetics, metrics and general aesthetics. Although parts of the treatise had been summarized, verses from it quoted and Bharata, its traditional author, regularly cited and revered, when the rediscovery of the Nātyaśāstra began in 1865 it had in fact been many centuries since the work had been known as a whole. Furthermore, although the Nātyaśāstra has now been published several times, a properly critical edition is still a remote prospect, with numerous problems of textual transmission and recension. One of the major obstacles to such an edition is the music section, which is full of technical discussions and long lists of terms, most of which have not been understood or used for more than a millennium.

Musical doctrine was originally included in dramaturgy because music was (and still is) an essential part of theatre. It was an element of production, along with gesture, movement, level of language, vocal inflection, costume and make-up, all of which were highly stylized. In the Nātyaśāstra (chaps.1–27) important references to music occasionally appear in connection with other elements of production technique; other parts of it are devoted exclusively to music. There is a discussion of instrumental music in general, dealing with tunings, scales, modal patterns (jāti, which may or may not be melody types) and modal functions (chap.28). There is one chapter on each of the four classes of instrument: strings, wind, idiophones and drums. The sections on strings (chap.29) and drums (chap.33 or 34) include discussions of playing technique, manner of accompaniment for songs and how the instruments are used in connection with the actions and the sentiments of the drama. The discussion of idiophones (chap.31) deals not with the instruments themselves but with their function, which was marking off the time cycle (tāla). The flute section (chap.30) is very brief. There is a discussion of dhruva, the kinds of song with which a play was ornamented in production, their texts and character and their dramatic applications (chap.32). An extra chapter in the Baroda edition lists the good and bad points in singing and the playing of instruments. Another interesting text surviving probably from this early period is the Dattilam, ascribed to the sage Dattila. This is more restricted in scope than the Nātyaśāstra, and if we are to assume that it has survived in its entirety and was intended by its author to be self-sufficient, it appears to deal with gāndharva (music), defined as a discrete form or body of forms of music different in nature and function from the later sangīta. It seems that the repertory of music it describes was that of the ritual preliminaries (pūrva-ranga) of Sanskrit drama, while the Nātyaśāstra was concerned with the drama as a whole.

A later important work or compilation, originating in part perhaps as early as the 8th or 9th century, is the Brhad-deśī attributed to Matanga. The first published edition of this work was based on two incomplete manuscripts from the same place in Kerala. No other primary sources for the work have yet been found, but the new edition (1992 etc.) takes into account the frequent and sometimes lengthy paraphrases and quotations from the Brhad-deśī in later works. The surviving portions of the Brhad-deśī reproduce, augment and supplement material in the Nātyaśāstra and incorporate lengthy passages from otherwise unknown early works, along with original material. On two counts the Brhad-deśī marks a turning-point in South Asian music theory. Firstly, theories of sound based on the metaphysical and physiological theories of Tantric yoga are propounded for the first time and argued with standard logical techniques, for the Brhad-deśī is a work of learning, not a practical manual. Secondly, the term rāga is introduced and defined, with the specific observation that it had not been discussed ‘by Bharata and others’. In the Nātyaśāstra the closest equivalent to rāga is jāti. This term and its doctrine continued to be carried in the later treatises as part of the inherited śāstra. It is generally assumed that an evolutionary process is indicated by the addition of the new term rāga to the old one jāti, but it seems more likely that two different traditions are represented. In the Brhad-deśī much of what is reported about rāgas and related entities called bhāsā is attributed to other named writers as well as to its own author, Matanga. In any case, the Brhad-deśī supplies for its rāgas and bhāsā the kinds of names, and many of the actual names, which still designate rāgas, sometimes exactly, as with Varātī, Hindola and Gurjarī, sometimes in slightly different forms, such as Sauvīrī (Sāverī), Saurāstrī (Sorath, Sūratī, also Saurāstram) and Mālava-kaiśika (Mālkoś). For both the old jāti and the newly reported bhāsā and rāgas not only are modal functions and dramatic applications reported, but musical illustrations in scale degree letters are given as well. These reappear in the corresponding portions of the Sangīta-ratnākara and some later medieval works.

Additional evidence for early Indian tonal and melodic systems is found in the 7th- or 8th-century rock inscription beside the temple at the fort of the hill of Kudumiyāmalai in Tamil Nadu. Recent work on the notated musical examples of this inscription suggests that they relate to actual melodic practice and may represent a didactic tradition reflected also in the conservative music examples found in the considerably later Sangīta-ratnākara. In the late 11th or early 12th century, Nānyadeva, ruler of Tirhut in north India, wrote or commissioned a commentary called Sarasvatī-hrdayālankāra or, more simply, Bharata-bhāsyam, on the Nātyaśāstra. In addition to its explanation of theoretical and technical matters, this contains some valuable early notated musical examples of song compositions (see Widdess, 1981 and 1995).

More is added to the store of ancient doctrine by Abhinavagupta’s commentary on the Nātyaśāstra, which includes another long list of rāgas with their dramatic applications from another ancient writer. Much of both the Brhad-deśī and Abhinavagupta’s Abhinava-bhārati is incorporated bodily into the highly syncretic Sangīta-ratnākara. In this work all the threads of ancient doctrine are woven into a complex but systematic pattern. It is divided into seven large chapters, hence its frequent sobriquet saptādhyāyī. The first chapter discusses sound, including its generation, microtones and intervals, scales and scale degree patterns, and the jāti (ancient modal patterns). The second chapter discusses rāga (melody type), both doctrinal and current. The third chapter is miscellaneous, dealing largely with performing practice, including ornaments, improvisation and ensembles. The fourth chapter is on composition (vocal) and includes discussions of metres, form and songs in vernaculars. The fifth chapter deals with tāla (time cycle), both doctrinal and current. The sixth chapter discusses instruments (strings, wind, drums and idiophones) and includes lists of rāgas with a few of their characteristics for the kinnarī-vīnā and the flute, plus playing techniques for strings (both doctrinal and current) and for drums, along with drum syllable patterns. The seventh chapter is on dance.

(b) Instruments in iconography.

Paralleling the distinction of older and newer layers of content in the treatises is a very significant change in the type of string instrument depicted in sculpture. Iconographic remains from the 2nd century bce to the 8th century ce, the era when Buddhism was still dominant in South Asia, abound in bow harps and short-necked ovoid lutes. From the 7th century ce to the 13th and after, these two string instruments disappear from sculpture and are replaced by stick zithers with one or more strings and often with bowl-shaped resonators or supports. These instruments are direct ancestors of the modern bīn of Hindustani music.

In the Nātyaśāstra (chap.29) the two principal types of vīnā are called vipañcī and citrā. They correspond to the bow harp and the ovoid lute, respectively, of iconography. The names of these instruments continue to appear in later treatises, including the Sangīta-ratnākara (they are a part of inherited śāstra), but to them are added descriptions of several varieties of the later stick zither vīnā. Furthermore, one passage in the Nātyaśāstra (chap.29, 95–100 in the Ghosh edition) describes playing techniques for the vīnā. Although the variety of vīnā is not specified, some of the techniques clearly refer to an instrument with open strings, plucked with the left hand as well as the right, such as a harp. Again, the Sangīta-ratnākara reports this by then purely historical material, but it also describes in some detail a very different playing technique for the one-string eka-tantrī vīnā, a variety of stick zither. Furthermore, the technique is declared applicable to all instruments of the class. It is based on a separation of the functions of left and right hands. The right hand has nine modes of plucking, whereas the left hand, while holding a stick against the string, can produce either a shake or a slide; 13 special two-hand techniques are also described.

Whenever a priori pitch relationships have been important in South Asian music theory, the instrument of reference has always been the current form of vīnā. A radical change in string instrument types and their techniques, therefore, should be correlated in some way with an equally radical change in the underlying concept of pitch relationships. On open-string instruments (such as the bow harp) the basic pitch collection has to be tuned in advance. Any pitch is potentially as important as any other, and in different musical contexts different pitches will assume the central role. A stopped-string instrument differs in that all the stopped pitches can easily be conceived as a function of the pitch of the open string, and ultimately as subordinate to it. That a conceptual change moving towards the notion of a single system tonic had occurred is explicitly confirmed early in the medieval period, but it may have been well under way during the last centuries of the ancient period.

(c) References in general literature.

There are many references to music and musical instruments in Sanskrit, Pali and Prakrit (e.g. the Vāsudevahindī) literature (see Jain, 1977). On the whole they confirm the technical terminology and names and descriptions of instruments available from the treatises and iconography, but they also provide some further context and several entertaining anecdotes. Śrīvāstav (1967) located and discussed musical references in Sanskrit literature from the Vedas to the end of the 6th century, including references in Kālidāsa and other classical playwrights. For a wider sweep, of both literary and other early Indian sources, see Premalatha (1983). Many secondary studies and commentaries on classical works and authors have examined musical references among other cultural areas, but much remains to be discovered and systematically discussed. An important source for the music of southern India in the early centuries ce is the extensive section on music theory in the Tamil narrative work Cilappatikāram. It is even possible that some of the origins of later Sanskrit theory may be identifiable in this work and in the tradition it represents.

India, Subcontinent of, §II, 2: History of classical music, To the mid-16th century.

(ii) The medieval period.

(a) Treatises.

There are few musical treatises available between the Sangīta-ratnākara and the new theory that appeared in the later 16th century. Of those considered here the most influential are the two commentaries on the Sangīta-ratnākara. There are also two historically important works by Jain authors, a large-scale compendium of music theory of 1428 and a single enormous treatise from Rajasthan. The commentaries on the Sangīta-ratnākara are Simhabhūpāla’s Sudhākara (c1330) and Kallinātha’s Kalānidhi (c1450), both written in peninsular India. The earlier one quotes extensively from the first of the two Jain treatises, Pārśvadeva’s Sangīta-samaya-sāra, which makes the latter nearly contemporaneous with the Sangīta-ratnākara, or possibly earlier. The later Jain treatise is the Sangītopanisat-sāroddhāra by Sudhākalaśa. It is from Gujarat and was completed in 1350. The Sangīta-śiromani (1428) was compiled at the behest of Sultan Malik Shah of Kada (near present-day Allahabad) by a circle of scholars who used, and to some extent commented on, a large number of earlier Sanskrit works. The treatise from Rajasthan, which quotes from the Sangīta-śiromani, is the Sangīta-rāja, written under the direction of King Kumbhakarna of Mewar and dated 1453.

The Jain treatises may well represent a tradition of śāstra independent of the Sangīta-ratnākara. The Sangīta-samaya-sāra covers material similar to the Sangīta-ratnākara, but with many differences of detail. The great importance of the Sangītopanisat-sāroddhāra is as a link between ancient and modern phenomena. Firstly, in its chapter on tāla (time cycle), both the arrangement (by length of time cycle) and the association of a particular configurative drum pattern with each particular tāla point towards modern Hindustani usage. Secondly, the rāga chapter provides the oldest known set of verse iconographies for melody types. Six rāgas, each with five sub-types called bhāsā, are depicted as quasi-Tantric images, in several cases many-armed, holding various emblems, each with an associated animal (vāhana). Nawab (1956) contains a set of paintings, a rāga-mālā, representing these melody type icons.

These are the only known rāga icons of this Tantric type, the various later traditions all having a basis in secular poetics. The historical significance of this material is heightened by the fact that most of the individual iconographies of the system in the Sangītopanisat-sāroddhāra appear again in the Sangīta-rāja, but not as part of a symmetrical classification system. The Sangīta-rāja is on the whole simply an enormous collection of lore. It follows the categories of the Sangīta-ratnākara in principle and often paraphrases its descriptions. The iconographic rāga verses are simply attached where appropriate, usually with the observation ‘according to some’. These are the most striking materials in the portions of the Sangīta-rāja so far published, but the very size of the work implies the inclusion of a number of miscellaneous details not available elsewhere.

Of the commentaries on the Sangīta-ratnākara, Kallinātha’s Kalānidhi in particular is a tantalizing link between ancient and modern music. Kallinātha expanded considerably on the material in the Sangīta-ratnākara, in several places identifying 15th-century equivalents of its rāgas by names still in use, and he clarified the important section on improvisation. In one passage he confirmed and illustrated a fundamental contradiction (virodha) between ancient doctrines and practices he himself knew in 15th-century Vijayanagar (Sangīta-ratnākara ii, 114ff; see also Brhaspati, 1969, pp.20ff). Part of this passage speaks of ‘the same formation being in all the rāgas’ due to the ‘immobility of the 5th’, and of the scales of rāgas in the old system as ‘done in the [modern] practice as though [all] beginnings were at the middle sadja ’, sadja being the degree that evidently had already become the single permanent system tonic that is now familiar. In another place, Kallinātha seems to have referred quite explicitly to a common tonic, saying ‘Thus in regional [rāgas] those beginning with nisāda [degree 7] are fixed on the place of middle sadja [degree 1], and so then in all [rāgas] there is a common primary [degree]’ (Sangīta-ratnākara iii, 298–9). He had introduced the matter as an explanation for Śārngadeva’s mention of ‘[coming] from a common primacy’, and thus implied that the system tonic was already prevalent in the early 13th century, at the end of the ancient period.

Simhabhūpāla’s Sudhākara is less helpful as a guide to the transition which had been and was still taking place, but like Kallinātha he supplied much useful material from earlier sources.

(b) Traditions.

One of the major cultural consequences of the Muslim hegemony in the Indo-Gangetic plain and northern peninsular India was the introduction of the written chronicles of Muslim historians, with their regular use of dates, names and places. It is largely for this reason that medieval predecessors of the modern performing traditions seem somewhat more discernible for the Indo-Gangetic plain and Hindustani music than they are for Karnatak music. Most of the accounts, however, come from sources dating from the mid-16th century to the mid-18th, thus in some cases considerably later than the period in question.

In the decades before and after 1300 the outstanding Indo-Persian poet Amir Khusrau was at the court of the sultans of Delhi. Most of the stories about his connections with music are found in late sources, and many are apocryphal, but of his knowledge of and devotion to Indian music there can be no doubt. Whether or not he invented the devotional qavvālī singing of the Sufi orders and introduced the singing of ghazal, he certainly established and legitimized them as South Asian musical items. He was also a friend and disciple of the great Chishtī saint Nizām-ud-dīn Auliyā, who successfully argued the propriety of using music for Sufi devotions, taking the case against the Muslim divines to the sultan in the early 1320s.

Timur’s sack of Delhi in 1398 scattered the court establishment, and during the 15th century the effectively independent rulers of Bengal, Jaunpur, Gujarat and Gwalior were the chief patrons of music. Sultan Husain ‘Sharqī’ of Jaunpur, who reigned from 1458 until his principality was reabsorbed by the sultanate of Delhi in 1477, is often credited with the invention or revival both of a number of rāgas and of the musical form khayāl. The Hindu king of Gwalior, Man Singh Tomar (who reigned from 1486 to 1516), is lauded as a great patron, and the names of several of his musicians are recorded. Tānsen, the leading musician of Akbar’s court and the paramount figure at the source of the most respected of the Hindustani music traditions, came from Gwalior and was first trained there.

The earliest Persian treatises on Indian music are largely dependent on Sanskrit sources. The Ghunyat-ul-munya (1374–5) also contains, however, some interpretive comment on both theory and observed practice. The Delhi court itself became a musical centre once more during the reign of the Afghan king Sikandar Lodi (who reigned from 1489 to 1517). Later historians list the sultan’s favourite rāgas. According to the earliest two accounts (1572), these were Kānadā, Kalyān, Gaud and the Western Asian maqām called Husainī, which is listed simply as a rāga in later 16th-century peninsular Sanskrit treatises. The Lahjat-i-sikandar-shāhi, dedicated to the sultan, follows the seven-chapter plan of the Sangīta-ratnākara without deviation, using the commentaries along with their citations from other sources such as the Sangīta-samaya-sāra and the Brhad-deśī (Delvoye, ‘Indo-Persian Literature’ (1994), pp.101–2; Lal, 1963, pp.242–3; Ahmad, 1954).

About professional musicians and their patrons in southern India there is less specific information, although devotional poems survive with their composers’ names and sometimes also names of rāgas. An exceptional survival is the set of copper plates from Tirupati containing texts and rāga names for kīrtanam by the 15th-century Tāllapākam composers (Sambamoorthy, 1952–71, ii, p.367 and plates 21 and 22).

The fountain-head of modern Karnatak music was the Vijayanagar empire. Several passing anecdotal references in Muslim and Portuguese chronicles suggest that the fundamentals of musical practices in the Hindu Vijayanagar court and in the Muslim Bahmani court and its successors were not substantially different. In addition, Kallinātha’s testimony (cited above) that the system had changed shows that in the Deccan some sort of syncretism of old and new practice had taken place that was as much a departure from ancient lore as that occurring north of the Vindhyas in the same period.

India, Subcontinent of, §II: History of classical music

3. Music and theory after the 16th century.

The modern period of South Asian art music may be thought of in two main divisions, separated by the second half of the 18th century. For Hindustani music, the dominance of the Mughal musical establishment for nearly two centuries characterizes the first division. In 1562 the Emperor Akbar took personal control of his government and in the same year brought Tānsen from the court of Reva to his own court. The Mughal musical establishment endured, supplying and taking from smaller courts, until the period following the last years of Muhammad Shah (reigned 1719–48).

The second division begins in the years after Muhammad Shah, when many of the Delhi musicians dispersed to regional centres of semi-independent power, as their predecessors had done in the 15th century. The most important patronage outside Delhi was at Lucknow, the court of the nawabs of Avadh, but other princely states and the newly rich tax-farmers and businessmen in Calcutta also patronized musicians. Traditions from the mid-19th century onwards are then securely traceable up to Independence in 1947 and beyond.

In south India the modern period begins from the last years of Vijayanagar in the mid-16th century. During the next two centuries musical predominance became concentrated in the former Vijayanagar viceroyalty of Thanjavur, first under the rule of independent Nāyak viceroys until 1673. After 1675 Thanjavur was ruled by Maratha kings who maintained and enlarged the existing cultural traditions until the death of Tukojī II in 1736. Following his death the principality of Thanjavur was in turmoil for several decades. Patronage revived under Amar Singh, who reigned from 1787 to 1798. Śarabhojī Serfoji II (reigned 1798–1832) signed away his ruling prerogative to the British in 1799 in exchange for the preservation of his court and his royal dignity. He was then left free to devote himself to developing, among other luxuries, the musical establishment inherited from his predecessors. The three Brahman musician-devotees whom Karnatak musicians credit with the modern transformation of their heritage – Tyāgarāja, Muttusvāmi Dīksitar and Śyāma Śāstri – also flourished during his reign.

In 1855 the royal succession in Thanjavur lapsed, but by then other south Indian courts and wealthy landed proprietors were supporting Thanjavur-trained musicians. In the second half of the 19th century a number of professional musicians learnt the kīrtanam compositions of Tyāgarāja from his immediate disciples and began singing and elaborating them as concert pieces. They were established by these musicians and those of the early 20th century as the nucleus of the present concert style. During this same period the support for musicians provided by the princes, wealthy landlords and temples began to be supplemented by sangīta sabhā (‘music societies’) in Madras and elsewhere, formed by Brahmans and others in business, government and the professions who had an interest in music.

(i) History of music theory in the modern period.

(ii) South Indian sources for mela (scale-type).

(iii) 16th- and 17th-century rāga-rāginī treatises.

(iv) Deccani and western Indian treatises.

(v) Eastern Indian treatises.

(vi) Treatises leading to modern Hindustani theory.

India, Subcontinent of, §II, 3: History of classical music, Music and theory after the 16th century.

(i) History of music theory in the modern period.

Beginning in 1550 a great many new treatises appeared, attempting to rationalize aspects of current practice and sometimes to reconcile it with inherited doctrine. In most cases these works come to terms with the Sangīta-ratnākara. As a rule, much of the old material is retained, often in the old seven-chapter format (see §2(i)(a) above). The novelties in the new works are largely confined to the general categories of tonal system, rāga (melody-type) and instruments. Many of the works in fact deal only with rāga, touching on the tonal system and on the vīnā as an instrument of reference only to the extent necessary to elucidate their rāgas.

There are three diagnostic variables for the new theoretical works: first, whether they introduce a new tonal system based on the fretted stick zither (vīnā) and try to reconcile it with the tonal material of the Sangīta-ratnākara, or merely reproduce it; second, whether the classifications of the rāgas are open-ended and based on scale-type, or closed and symmetrical and not based on any clearly discernible musical criteria; and third, whether individual rāgas are associated with iconographic verses describing people in poetic situations, or are discussed only as musical entities.

Looked at in this way, it can be said that treatises clearly associated both geographically and in terms of content with the modern Karnatak tradition introduce a new tonal system, classify rāgas by scale-type and treat them as purely musical entities: Rāmāmātya’s Svaramelakalānidhi (c1550) belongs to this tradition. Treatises most closely connected with Hindustani music, above all Dāmodara’s Sangīta-darpana (c1625), do not concern themselves with precise tonal relationships in practice but classify rāgas according to symmetrical schemes based on a fixed number of main rāgas (usually six), each with the same number and patterning of subordinate types, and attempt to correlate the classification with traditional poetic icons for each individual rāga.

There are also treatises that combine features of both groups: scale-type classifications with verse iconographies (Somanātha’s Rāga-vibodha of 1609) and symmetrical rāga systems whose rāga scales are clearly described (Pundarīka Vitthala’s Rāga-mālā in the late 16th century). These originated in north-west peninsular India or in western India. Finally, there is one main treatise, the Sangīta-pārijāta by Ahobala Pandita, in which a tonal system is uniquely described (by string divisions) but whose rāgas are merely listed, neither classified nor associated with poetic icons.

India, Subcontinent of, §II, 3: History of classical music, Music and theory after the 16th century.

(ii) South Indian sources for mela (scale-type).

The oldest surviving treatise of the modern period is Rāmāmātya’s Svaramelakalānidhi, composed around 1550 in the court of Vijayanagar, 15 years before the capital was destroyed. This is the only independent theoretical work surviving from the Vijayanagar period and at the same time the first of the modern southern treatises. Its distinguishing theoretical feature is the description and grouping of rāgas according to the number of scale-types necessary to accommodate the varying intervallic structure of rāgas in current practice. This feature appears for the first time in the Svaramelakalānidhi and is still central to the purely southern group of treatises and to theory in Karnatak music. Scale-type description and classification could not have been newly invented by Rāmāmātya, however, and in the first of a series of later treatises from Thanjavur, the scale-type approach is credited to the sage Vidyāranya (the brother of the Vedic commentator Sāyana), who is traditionally associated with the foundation of Vijayanagar itself in the mid-14th century. This first Thanjavur treatise is Govinda Dīksitar’s Sangīta-sudhā, produced in the early 17th century by the great chief minister of Raghunātha Nāyaka of Thanjavur. It follows the seven-chapter plan of the Sangīta-ratnākara, although the last three chapters are lost. It chiefly recasts the material of the Sangīta-ratnākara in a different metre, but in the last two-thirds of the rāga chapter new rāgas and scale-types are presented, the doctrine being attributed to Vidyāranya, and there are several passing criticisms of Rāmāmātya’s Svaramelakalānidhi.

A treatise developing scale-types into a closed system is the Caturdandī-prakāśikā by Govinda Dīksitar’s son Venkatamakhin, who showed how the semitonal scale of pitches produced by the Vīnā with fixed frets could be systematically permuted to produce 72 seven-degree scale-types with fixed tonic and 5th and five variable degrees. Included among these 72 were the 19 that Venkatamakhin recognized as necessary for the rāgas of his time. However, any rāgas with new scales that might develop in the future could readily find a scale-type available in the system.

The third of the ‘Thanjavur treatises’ is Sangīta-sārāmrta composed under the direction of Tukojī II (reigned 1728–36). This work is based to some extent on its predecessors, yet its musical substance is quite recognizably a predecessor of the Karnatak music of today. After this, no significant new treatise on Karnatak music appeared in south India until the publication of Subbarāma Dīksitar’s monumental Telugu work, Sangīta-sampradāya-pradarśinī, in 1904. This includes hundreds of kīrtanam and other compositions in letter notation (mostly from the Dīksitar family tradition), as well as biographical sketches of many important 18th- and 19th-century musicians; it is a basic historical source. Dīksitar also dealt seriously and fundamentally with the problem of notation and ornamentation in Karnatak music. In this he was influenced by his friend and adviser A.M. Chinnaswamy Mudaliar, compiler of Oriental Music in Staff Notation (Madras, 1892).

India, Subcontinent of, §II, 3: History of classical music, Music and theory after the 16th century.

(iii) 16th- and 17th-century rāga-rāginī treatises.

Until the appearance of V.N. Bhatkhande’s work in the early 20th century, the traditional theoretical classifications for Hindustani rāgas (rāg) were symmetrical systems comprising a small number of rāgas (usually six), to each of which was assigned an equal number of what came to be called in Sanskrit rāginī and in Hindi rāginī (usually five for each rāga, making 36 in the whole system). In some systems a second sub-set of rāgas was added to each of the groups, and since rāgas and rāginī were mainly personified as lords and their ladies, the supplementary sub-sets were personified as putra (‘sons’).

Symmetrical rāga classifications are known from a large number of treatises. After 1600 they are generally accompanied by verse iconographies as well. Symmetrical rāga systems with iconographies also occur in the structured sets of miniature paintings called rāga-mālā. Curiously, there is no known musical treatise expounding the particular symmetrically structured set found in most painted rāga-mālā. For several centuries this ‘painters’ system’ of rāgas and rāginī led a quite independent existence. (Individual rāgas with their iconographies, painted or versified, were in principle quite independent of classification systems. Not only do they wander from system to system but there are also important works giving iconographies that do not use a rāga-rāginī symmetrical classification at all, such as Somanātha’s Rāga-vibodha of 1609.)

Apart from the unique mid-14th-century Tantric system of rāgas and bhāsā in the Sangītopanisat-sāroddhāra by Sudhākalaśa, the oldest treatises in which symmetrical systems and verbal iconographies are found together are Pundarīka Vitthala’s Rāga-mālā (1576) and Śubhankara’s Sangīta-dāmodara (c1500) from eastern India. Pundarīka used a symmetrical six-rāga system with a pattern of its own. Śubhankara provided two sets of 36 rāga names (many in common), of which one is a symmetrical rāga-rāginī set without iconographies, the other an unordered list, but with an iconography for each rāga.

In the third part of the Ā’īn-i akbarī (1597), the chronicle of Akbar by Abul Fazl, there is a summary of Indian music theory as it was evidently understood in Delhi and Agra at that time. It follows the seven-chapter plan of the Sangīta-ratnākara but with important replacements of the contents in a number of places, the whole being set forth in an abridged form. The new material is in the sections on rāga (to which are added regional song types), instruments and various classes of performers. Rāga names are provided for three different symmetrical sets (including the ‘painters’ system’), but nothing is said of iconographies.

The Sangīta-darpana of Dāmodara (c1625) is the first source for the ‘Hanūmān doctrine’, a rāga-rāginī system of 36 which by 1800 had become standard. The Sangīta-darpana is in seven chapters, of which all but the chapter dealing with rāga are summaries of the corresponding chapters of the Sangīta-ratnākara. The chapter on rāga sets forth three rāga-rāginī schemes, two older ones and the hanuman-mata (the system of the Hanūmān doctrine), which is the only one exposed in detail. For each entity of the Hanūmān doctrine the scale degrees are given, specifying whether the scale has five, six or seven of them. The three modal functions (initial, medial and final) are also designated. The precise intervals, however, cannot be determined, since only names of scales, taken over verbatim from the Sangīta-ratnākara, are given. Each rāga and rāginī of the Hanūmān doctrine is accompanied by an iconographic verse. Most of these verses are known from earlier sources, such as the Sangīta-dāmodara or rāga-mālā paintings.

India, Subcontinent of, §II, 3: History of classical music, Music and theory after the 16th century.

(iv) Deccani and western Indian treatises.

The characteristic feature of the north-west peninsular and western Indian group of treatises of the 16th and 17th centuries is classification by scale-type combined with an interest in the rāgas as individual visual icons.

Śrīkantha’s Rasa-kaumudī was composed c1575 in Gujarat and comprises two five-chapter divisions, the first of which is devoted to music. Most of the musical material is taken directly from the Sangīta-ratnākara, but two extensive passages in the chapter on rāga are not. One of these passages is a description of the new forms of vīnā and an outline of the general tonal system based on its tuning and fretting. It is the tonal system described in Rāmāmātya’s Svaramelakalānidhi and other southern treatises, yet it is actually taken over from a treatise by Pundarīka Vitthala, the Sadrāgacandrodaya. The other novel passage of the Rasa-kaumudī is the description of the rāgas, which are grouped according to a system of 11 mela (scale-types) in the southern fashion. To each, however, is added a verse iconography like those found with northern rāga-rāginī schemes, and not only the contents but also the wording are often like verses of the Sangīta-dāmodara and the Sangīta-darpana.

Even more curious than the mélange of lore from the Sangīta-ratnākara, the iconographic verses and the scale-types found in Śrīkantha’s Rasa-kaumudī is the work of the author Pundarīka Vitthala, from whom the vīnā material in Rasa-kaumudī is largely borrowed. The rāgas in Pundarīka’s Sadrāgacandrodaya are arranged entirely on the southern plan, by whatever scale-types were needed, with neither the symmetry of overall system nor the individual iconographic personifications characteristic of the northern works. Conversely, the Rāga-mālā (late 16th century) presents a symmetrical scheme of rāgas, rāginī and even putra (‘sons’, see §(iii) above), although unlike the characteristic northern treatises it does not blindly reproduce the interval and scale material of the Sangīta-ratnākara. Although the tonal system in the Rāga-mālā is not described according to vīnā fretting, Pundarīka did set up an interval description of his own that is precise enough to be interpreted. Evidently as Pundarīka wrote for his different patrons, he adapted his discussions to the local mode of theory. Taking his works as a whole, and notably the Rāga-mālā and Sadrāgacandrodaya, he is one of only two available theorists who dealt with all three new aspects of South Asian music theory from the 16th century to the 18th, writing on interval and mela (scale-type), dhyāna (iconographic verses) for melody types, and rāga-rāginī systems (symmetrical schemes of classification). The other such theorist is Locana, whose Rāga-taranginī (eastern Ganges valley, c1675) recounts rāga-rāginī material and sets forth a system of mela.

The most interesting of the Deccani works providing both precise scalar intervals and pictorial iconographies for the rāgas is Somanātha’s Rāga-vibodha (1609). Somanātha was the only writer to provide a theoretical foundation for the association of rāgas and pictorial content. He proposed that each rāga has two forms: nāda-rūpa (‘sound-form’ or audible shape, which is variable according to performance) and devatā-rūpa (‘icon-form’ or contemplative or expressive shape, which is permanent and unchanging). His unique notations (each of which is only one among many possible manifestations of the nāda-rūpa of a rāga) are made as precise as possible in an effort to evoke in writing as much clarity of outline and vividness in colour for the mind’s ear in the realm of sound as can be evoked for the mind’s eye by a written evocation of the shape and colour of a visible entity or scene.

India, Subcontinent of, §II, 3: History of classical music, Music and theory after the 16th century.

(v) Eastern Indian treatises.

From eastern India a number of sangīta texts of the 16th, 17th and 18th centuries survive. Their purpose, apart from representing the śāstric theoretical tradition as such, seems to be to embrace the eastern (Bengali and Orissan) regional forms of music, especially devotional kīrtana -type compositional forms, within the main śāstric corpus. The Sangīta-nārāyana, probably a 17th-century work by Purusottama Miśra (though attributed to his royal patron Nārāyanadeva of Parlakimidi), quotes from a number of earlier eastern texts and contains some valuable information on local musical, especially compositional and metric-rhythmic, practice. It also offers additional rāga-rāginī material, with both classification systems and dhyāna verses.

India, Subcontinent of, §II, 3: History of classical music, Music and theory after the 16th century.

(vi) Treatises leading to modern Hindustani theory.

In one group of 17th-century works a new way of specifying intervals appears: numerical string-length measurements are specified for fixing the position of frets on the vīnā, leading to a directly measured general scale of 12 untempered semitones. Several of these treatises are described in Bhatkhande (1930). They include short works by Hrdaya-nārāyana and Bhāva Bhatta (an important source for dhrupad song texts (Delvoye, ‘Dhrupad Songs’ (1994), pp.407–8)), and the major work, the Sangīta-pārijāta by Ahobala Pandita, with its successor, Śrīnivāsa’s Rāga-tattva-vibodha. Hrdaya-nārāyana was from the Jabalpur area of Central India, Bhāva Bhatta from Bikaner in western Rajasthan. The geographical origin of the Sangīta-pārijāta is unknown. The author’s name is southern, and there is an important religious centre called Ahobilam in Andhra Pradesh. Furthermore, there are many passing references to rāga names and to musical forms that only a southern Indian pandit would have known. The work and its contents are distributed in the north, however, and the characteristic string division technique and its resulting scale (see §III, 1(ii)(d) below) have no connection with south Indian interval and scale systems or the tuning and fretting method used to derive them. The Sangīta-pārijāta was probably written in the north by someone from the peninsula, in a similar way to the Deccani Pundarīka Vitthala, who wrote his Rāga-mālā on a rāga-rāginī basis for a northern patron. The Sangīta-pārijāta is an important source. It follows the overall divisions of the Sangīta-ratnākara (without the last chapter on dance), but the content of the chapters on rāga and on instruments is completely replaced, and there is other extensive new material throughout. The work was translated into Persian in 1724.

An important Persian source in its own right is Mīrzā Khān’s Tuhfat al-hind (third quarter of the 17th century). The Tuhfat al-hind is an enormous compilation of what were held to be the chief Indian artistic sciences, those dealing with language, poetics, music and erotics. The section on music (book 5) is a compilation of the theoretical lore then current (including what was still being transmitted from the Sangīta-ratnākara) and stories about Hindustani music and its patrons in the medieval period. Several rāga-rāginī systems are described (including the Hanūmān doctrine), and there is a chapter on Persian maqām and their subdivisions. The work was read and quoted by Sir William Jones (1792; see §6 below). This and other Persian sources from the 17th and 18th centuries show some interest in the actual practice of music and its technical terminology as used by musicians as well as theoreticians. Valuable studies of these sources are N.P. Ahmad (1984) and Delvoye, ‘Indo-Persian Literature’ (1994).

At the end of the 18th century the maharaja of Jaipur, Pratāp Singh (reigned 1779–1804), had an enormous compilation called the Sangīt-sār written in Rajasthani. It is structurally an amalgam of the Sangīta-ratnākara and the Sangīta-pārijāta, but there is a great deal of important supplementary material giving extensive musical illustrations for both rāga and tāla, as well as names of modern instruments as equivalents for Sanskrit instrument names.

In 1813 in Patna the first north Indian classification system based on purely musical affinities was produced. The Nāghmāt-i āsafi of Muhammad Reza presents a closed rāga-rāginī system, but one in which there are genuine musical affinities (often as much melodic as scalar) between each rāginī and the main rāga. Vishnu Narayan Bhatkhande published the rāga-rāginī system from Reza’s Nāghmāt-i āsafi in translation and paraphrase, with music examples.

Bhatkhande’s Hindustānī-sangīta-paddhati appeared from 1910 to 1932 in Marathi. In the 1950s it was made available to a wider public through a Hindi translation; it is the product of decades of travel, repertory collection and research. Bhatkhande followed the principles of his predecessors in trying to reconcile theoretical sources with current practice. He found that written sources from the first part of the modern period (1550–1750), several of which he himself discovered and had published, were of both historical and theoretical relevance to current Hindustani practice, but that the traditional material carried on from the Sangīta-ratnākara and other ancient works was useless for his purposes. Without wishing to detract from either the historical value or the immense cultural prestige of the Nātyaśāstra and Sangīta-ratnākara, he dropped them forthwith as sources of musical theory for Hindustani music.

Bhatkhande went to south India in 1904 and met Subbarāma Dīksitar in Ettayapuram (near Madurai in Tamil Nadu). After studying the southern mela system as propounded in Dīksitar’s manuscript of Venkatamakhin’s Caturdandī-prakāśikā (see §(ii) above), and in the light of other southern rāga-systems based on scales, he set about devising a scale-type classification for Hindustani rāgas. He based his scheme on the settings of movable frets used by Sitār players for the different rāgas, called thāt. One scheme probably current in Bhatkhande’s youth is a set of 12 thāt published in Safdar Husain Khān’s Qānūn-i sitār (Delhi, 1870). Bhatkhande’s own scheme comprised ten thāt named for ten important Hindustani rāgas. All other rāgas are assigned to one or another of the thāt, making use of accidentals where necessary. Aspects of Hindustani musical practice other than rāga are touched on rarely and in passing in Bhatkhande’s writings on theory. However, between 1916 and 1937 he published, for pedagogical purposes, the multi-volume Kramik pustak-mālikā series, which included hundreds of vocal (many of them dhrupad) compositions arranged under rāga headings. Very many were collected by him from oral tradition, but unfortunately he gave no precise details concerning the exact provenance or the authenticity of transcription of the individual songs.

Bhatkhande’s thāt classification theory and a number of his decisions about the designation of the predominant modal degrees for each rāga have been criticized as arbitrary and over-systematized. In fact, Bhatkhande was not dogmatic about his results, but there are grounds for concern about the inevitable over-simplifications resulting from their widespread use in elementary music education and in the analysis of rāgas. The most cogent criticisms are in Omkarnath Thakur’s Sangītāñjalī (1938–62). Thakur, one of the great singers and music educators of the 20th century, rejected the idea of scale-type classification altogether and preferred to deal with each rāga individually.

India, Subcontinent of, §II: History of classical music

4. Oral traditions after the 16th century.

South Asian classical music is regarded as pre-eminently vocal. Instrumental music, whether as an accompaniment to the voice, an imitation or extension of the voice, or a tradition parallel to the vocal tradition, is regarded as secondary. Hence the paramparā (succession) in sampradāya (performing traditions) is traced primarily through its most prestigious carriers, the poet-composers and singers of Karnatak music and Hindustani music; instrumental traditions are normally deemed ancillary.

(i) The Karnatak tradition.

(ii) Hindustani traditions from the 17th century to the mid-19th.

(iii) Hindustani traditions from the mid-19th century to the 20th.

India, Subcontinent of, §II, 4: History of classical music, Oral traditions after the 16th century.

(i) The Karnatak tradition.

Tamil is the mother tongue of most of the leading carriers of the modern Karnatak music tradition, and Madras is its cultural centre. However, many song texts and writings are in Telugu, because the existing tradition is to a great extent an outgrowth of the musical life of the principality of Thanjavur in the Kaveri delta. Thanjavur was the heart of the Tamil empire of the Chola dynasty (from the 9th century to the 13th), but in the second quarter of the 16th century a Nāyak viceroy was appointed by the emperor at Vijayanagar, thus establishing a court whose language was Telugu.

After the destruction of Vijayanagar in 1565 the royal house was re-established farther south, but during the next century formerly tributary rulers (such as the Wodeyars of Mysore) and the direct imperial viceroys (the Nāyaks at Thanjavur, Madurai and other provincial capitals or forts) established themselves as rulers of independent states, although Thanjavur observed a nominal loyalty to the ruling house until well into the 17th century.

As a consequence of the Nāyak viceroyalties and of further stimulation by the turmoil of the later 16th century, large numbers of Telugu-speaking functionaries and learned persons settled in Tamil Nadu, particularly in Thanjavur. Consequently the Telugu-speaking ruling group was culturally buttressed by a large educated class of Telugus, most of whom were niyogī Brahmans, that is administrators, scholars, poets etc.

During the time of Raghunātha Nāyak (reigned 1614–34) the principal vehicles for music were yaksagāna (originating from Vijayanagar) and other forms involving dance as well as song, such as the padam. The treatise Sangīta-sudhā dates from Raghunātha’s reign. Ksētrayya, the composer of padam, visited the court under Vijayarāghava Nāyak (reigned 1634–73). After his reign Thanjavur came under the rule of Marathi kings, of whom Ekojī Bhonsle (brother of the Maratha leader Śivājī) was the first. The new dynasty fully supported and patronized the cultural patterns established during the Nāyak period, and alongside the growth of Marathi literary forms, Telugu and Sanskrit continued to be the languages of culture and learning respectively.

During the successive reigns of Ekojī’s three sons the outlines of modern traditions became clearly discernible. Śahājī (reigned 1684–1712) was an enthusiastic patron of music and letters; among those whom he endowed with land was Śrīdhara Vēnkateśa (Ayyaval), who originated the tradition of devotional Krsna bhajan (song) followed to this day. Girirāja Kavi, a composer of devotional songs and yaksagāna, and the paternal grandfather of Tyāgarāja, was a court poet. Śahājī instructed his musical scholars to assemble a number of manuscripts in letter notation containing typical samples of the current methods for the vocal and instrumental elaboration of many rāgas, a few of which have been published. From these, taken in conjunction with the Sangīta-sudhā, one can see that the present rāgas and improvisatory techniques of Karnatak music reach back at least to 17th-century Thanjavur.

In the succeeding reigns of Śahājī’s two younger brothers, Thanjavur continued as a musical centre. The treatise Sangīta-sārāmrta is accredited to the youngest, Tulajā, or Tukojī (reigned 1728–36). In the third quarter of the 18th century the leading court musicians were Sonti Vēnkatasubbayya and Pachimiliam Ādiyappayya. The former was the teacher of Tyāgarāja’s teacher, Sonti Vēnkataramanayya. Another of his disciples, Paidāla Gurumūrti Śāstri, was one of the first Karnatak musicians to settle in Madras. Ādiyappayya was the composer of a varnam (an advanced study piece) in Bhairavī rāga beginning ‘Viriboni’, which every music student must still learn. He was also the teacher of several important musicians of the next generation, including Pallavi Gopālayya (several of whose compositions are still in the repertory), and Śyāma Śāstri was also his student for a time. Another Thanjavur court musician in the third quarter of the 18th century was the vīnā player Kalahastri Śāstri, believed to be Tyāgarāja’s maternal grandfather.

The three great names of Karnatak music – Śyāma Śāstri, Tyāgarāja and Muttusvāmi Dīksitar – were never directly patronized by the court establishment, but their teachers or forebears, or both, had been. Although the Indian ideal of a musician who sings for divinity instead of royalty is embodied in them, and particularly in Tyāgarāja, they are nonetheless part of the general musical tradition of the Thanjavur establishment. Śyāma Śāstri’s son and principal disciple Subbarāya Śāstri (1803–62) was one of the central figures of mid-19th-century Karnatak music. His compositions are widely sung, and his discipular line includes not only his adopted son but also Sundaramma, whose mother had been a Thanjavur court dancer and whose daughter was the great vīnā artist Veena Dhanam (1867–1938). Another student of Subbarāya Śāstri was the teacher of Taccūru Singarācāryulu (1834–92), whose Gāyaka-locana was the first printed book of Karnatak music in (letter) notation. Muttusvāmi Dīksitar’s most important disciple was his youngest brother Bālasvāmi Dīksitar (1786–1858), who was one of the first musicians to adapt the European violin to Karnatak music. He was the chief musician at the small court of Ettayapuram (near Madurai) and grandfather of Subbarāma Dīksitar (1839–1908), author of the Sangīta-sampradāya-pradarśinī.

Most prominent modern Karnatak musicians claim to be in some way part of Tyāgarāja’s guru-śisya-paramparā (‘master-disciple succession’). Tyāgarāja’s enormous prestige both as singer-composer and as saintly devotee make him the pivotal figure of the Karnatak tradition. Two outstanding musicians of the generation after him, Subbarāya Śāstri and Vīnā Kuppayyar, are said to have learnt from Tyāgarāja, but the transmission of most of Tyāgarāja’s compositions up to the late 20th century was not through them. Most of Tyāgarāja’s students were in fact devotees rather than active professional musicians, and the modern concert renderings of Tyāgarāja’s Kriti compositions originated from the professionals of the second generation after Tyāgarāja. For instance, both Mahāvaidyanātha Ayyar (1844–97) and Patnam Subrahmanya Ayyar (1845–1902) learnt Tyāgarāja’s compositions (from his disciple Mānambucāvadi Vēnkatasubbayya) as fully trained professional musicians. Mahāvaidyanātha Ayyar’s father and grandfather were musicians, and he and his elder brother were trained by a former Thanjavur court musician. Among the few people he and his brother taught were Sabheśa Ayyar (1872–1948), who was the great-grandson of the Thanjavur court vīnā player Pallavi Doraisvāmi Ayyar (1752–1816) and the principal teacher of several important 20th-century performers, among them Musiri Subrahmanya Ayyar (1899–1974). Patnam Subrahmanya Ayyar passed Tyāgarāja’s kriti on to Rāmnād Śrīnivāsa Ayyangār (1860–1919), the principal teacher of Ariyakudi Rāmānuja Ayyangār (1890–1967).

An artist of a still later era, Kumbhakonam ‘Nayana’ Pillai (1887–1934) learnt many of Tyāgarāja’s compositions from the descendants of Tyāgarāja’s disciples from Walajapet. One cannot now know for certain to what extent the later 19th- and 20th-century renderings of Tyāgarāja’s kriti may reflect the need of professional musicians of two and more generations after Tyāgarāja to have compositions that reflect both the aura of sanctity and the complexity or bravura of concert performance. The underlying melodic configurations of pieces in known traditional rāgas and traditional rhythmic conformations, along with patterned transformations of simple text rhythms and the principle of sangati (increasingly varied melodic elaboration) for the simple melodic lines, are fundamental and must be Tyāgarāja’s genuine and original contribution. But specific melodic variations of a given line, or the actual tunes of small pieces in rāgas hitherto and elsewhere unheard of, are probably not his.

The spread of the classical Karnatak style of Thanjavur to other parts of south India began in the latter part of the 18th century. During the unsettled period of the mid-18th century, culminating in the occupation of Thanjavur by the nawab of the Karnatak (1773–6) and Haidar Ali’s second raid (1781), a number of Thanjavur musicians had found refuge in the state of Travancore (now southern Kerala). The chief minister of the ruler Svati Tirunal (reigned 1829–47) was from Thanjavur, and Thanjavur musicians were prominent at the court. The young ruler was himself an expert musician and is regarded in south India as one of the great composers. Among other important Thanjavur musicians in Trivandrum were a vīnā player who was a grandson of Pachimiliam Ādiyappayya, and Vadivelu, one of the most important mid-19th-century musicians. Vadivelu was an expert in court dance, had been a disciple of Muttusvāmi Dīksitar and was another early exponent of the violin. Until modern times the Travancore royal family continued to be outstanding patrons of Karnatak music, and Trivandrum is still a major centre of Karnatak music, quite apart from the indigenous music of Kerala such as kathakali music and the drum ensembles of tayambakam and pañcavādyam.

The court of Mysore was also a centre for Karnatak music originally brought in from Thanjavur. After the defeat of Tipu Sultan in 1799 the family of the Wodeyar chiefs who had ruled Mysore in the 17th century was installed as a ruling dynasty by the British. During the minority of the first king, the former chief minister and regent Pūrnayya brought in Vīnā Vēnkatasubbayya (d 1838) from Thanjavur as the prince’s music teacher. Vēnkatasubbayya’s grandson Subbanna (1855–1938) and grand-nephew Śēsanna (1852–1926) brought the (by now) Mysore tradition of vīnā playing into the 20th century. The Tyāgarāja paramparā (‘succession’) was first represented in Mysore by Sadāśiva Rao (1802–82), who had studied with one of Tyāgarāja’s Walajapet pupils. The vīnā players Śēsanna and Subbanna in turn learnt compositions from Sadāśiva Rao.

Small princely states as well as large ones played a vital role in the spread of Karnatak music or in its preservation and transmission to the late 20th century. An example is the estate of Vizianagaram in north-east Andhra Pradesh. Around 1800 Guruvācāryulu, a vīnā player from Thanjavur, was invited to the Vizianagaram court and began a tradition of vīnā playing that was brought into the 20th century by his great-grandson, Vēnkataramana Das (1866–1948). Another estate in the same region was Bobbili, whose vīnā player, Sangameśvara Śāstri, was the teacher of the older brother and teacher of the violin virtuoso Dwaram Venkataswami Naidu (1900–64).

A very small estate that played a large role in Karnatak music was Ettayapuram, associated with the Dīksitar family. The ruling family of Telugu-speaking Nāyaks came south after the destruction of Vijayanagar and established itself as a subordinate house to the Nāyaks of Madurai. In the last years of the 18th century the pālaiyakārar (‘poligar’) of Ettayapuram made himself conspicuously useful to the British and in 1803 was permanently confirmed in his estate. From then on he and his successors cultivated the arts, particularly music.

India, Subcontinent of, §II, 4: History of classical music, Oral traditions after the 16th century.

(ii) Hindustani traditions from the 17th century to the mid-19th.

The contribution that Tyāgarāja made to Karnatak music was paralleled by that of Tānsen to Hindustani music. He was respected as the legendary supreme artist and the ultimate starting-point claimed for most highly esteemed master-disciple successions. Tānsen’s musical roots are universally said to be in Gwalior under the reign of Man Singh Tomar (1486–1516) and his son (1516–26). The genre called dhrupad developed in Gwalior, and in the 17th century a manuscript collection of the dhrupad of the earlier Gwalior court musician Nāyak Bakhśū was made under the title Sahas-ras (‘The thousand delights’). Tānsen was born about 1500 and was a professional musician. There is no evidence that he was a Brahman or that he ever became a Muslim, although some of his immediate family of the next generation did (by the end of the 17th century most Hindustani musicians were Muslims). When Tānsen was brought from Reva to Akbar’s court musical establishment in 1562 he was probably already over 60. His fame as musician and poet (the dhrupad song texts were composed in literary forms of Braj-bhāsā) became legendary, and in written and oral traditions numerous songs are attributed to him (cf. Brhaspati, 1979; Delvoye, ‘Dhrupad Songs’ (1994)).

The contemporary source for music in Akbar’s time is the court chronicle Ā’in-i akbarī (1597) of Abul Fazl. Between the section on music itself, which is based on the ‘seven-chapter’ form, and the list of the imperial musicians, it is possible to get a good impression of the classes and nationalities of musicians and of their repertories. Most significantly, the vocal musicians are without exception South Asian. There are four Dhārhī with Muslim names and 15 musicians from Gwalior with wholly or partly Hindu names, Tānsen and one of his sons being among them; there is also a singer from Agra and the deposed usurper of Malwa, Bāz Bahādur. The instruments associated with the Gwalior singers are the bīn and the surmandal; one Dhārhī plays the karnā, a trumpet of the naubat (a processional band). Otherwise the instrumentalists (all Muslim) are either from outside Hindustan (Khorāsān or Central Asia) or are of unspecified origin.

After referring to dance as the seventh and last ‘chapter’, Abul Fazl describes about a dozen categories of musicians and entertainments, but only two – Dhārhī and Kalāvant – can be connected with the list of court musicians. Dhārhī are specifically mentioned as singers of Punjabi songs in praise of heroes, accompanying themselves on a small drum and on a two-string plucked instrument (smaller than a bīn). In the list of genres in his second ‘chapter’ Abul Fazl referred to heroic songs called karkhā and sādrā, in various languages. Imam wrote in 1857 that the Dhārhī were said to be the oldest of the musician communities, and that they were originally Rājpūts who sang karkhā. In his list of entertainers Abul Fazl described the class called Kalāvant as singers of dhrupad. In the second ‘chapter’ dhrupad is said to belong to the region including Gwalior, Agra and Bari. Between Abul Fazl’s list of musicians and two of his music ‘chapters’, then, one can confirm a category, a locality and a repertory for two classes: Kalāvant from Gwalior, including Tānsen, sang dhrupad (and some played the bīn); Dhārhī from the Punjab sang heroic songs to the accompaniment of a small drum and string instrument.

The third musician class of continuing significance that is mentioned in Abul Fazl’s seventh music ‘chapter’ are the Qavvāl, who are said to be of the same class as the Dhārhī but to sing Delhi songs (and Persian songs in the same way). In the second music ‘chapter’ Delhi songs are identified as qaūl and tarānā and are said to have originated with Amir Khusrau. Amir Khusrau’s ghazal (couplets) were sung both at the Sufi gatherings of Nizām-ud-dīn Auliya and at Sultan Alā-ud-dīn Khiljī’s court. The characteristic semantic ambiguity of the ghazal (a secular love song to which an allegorically devotional interpretation can be given) made it ‘an oblique cultural link between the Sufi hospice and the court’ (Ahmad, 1969). The Qavvāl, then, were connected with but outside the range of purely court musicians, so that no Qavvāl appear on Abul Fazl’s list of court singers. Nonetheless, it may be inferred from Abul Fazl that the Qavvāl were in some sort of close contact with the Dhārhī in the 16th century.

In later sources it is said that four bānī (styles) of dhrupad descended from four Kalāvant musicians of Akbar’s court. Of these, two are of particular interest, partly because of secondary associations with instruments. Firstly, a line of bīn players is believed to have begun from the marriage of Tānsen’s daughter Saraswati to Misra Singh, the son of Tānsen’s colleague, Sammokhan Singh. Historically the most important representative from this line was Niyāmat Khān (Sadārang), of the court of Muhammad Shah (reigned 1719–48). Secondly, Tānsen himself is supposed to have played the plucked Rabāb, and his son Vilās Khān founded a line of rabābiyā. The important 18th-century musician Masit Khan is believed by some to have been a descendant in this line; others have him in Sammokhan Singh’s line.

Niyāmat Khān, known as Sadārang, and Masit Khan are traditionally said to have devised what are now the two most widespread representatives of Hindustani music: the vocal khayāl and the modern form and basic playing style of the Indian Sitār. The origins of khayāl have long been a matter of debate. It is reputed to have its roots in 15th-century Jaunpur or earlier, but the oldest examples in the repertory are Sadārang’s compositions. The genre appears to have been in existence already in the 17th century, but it is particularly associated with the Kalāvant dhrupad singer Sadārang and his family and their taking over certain special features from the Qavvāl musicians. Since their family heritage was dhrupad, Sadārang and his nephew Adārang perhaps did not themselves commonly perform khayāl, but they could teach it to others, in particular to disciples who were not their own sons.

An illuminating source for the cultural life of Muhammad Shah’s Delhi is the contemporary Persian account, Muraqqa‘-i Delhī, of Dargah Quli Khān (b 1710), who resided in the capital between 1737 and 1740. He recorded a wide range of musical and artistic practices and genres, and described the apparently happy co-existence of different forms; Niyāmat Khān, he tells us (without mentioning the name Sadārang), was indeed a distinguished singer of khayāl as well as a bīn player (Blake, 1991, pp.156–7; Delvoye, ‘Indo-Persian Literature’ (1994), p.116; Lath, 1988, pp.9–10).

During the latter part of the 18th century the collapse of the Mughal Empire and the establishment or re-establishment of other centres of power resulted in the dispersal of Muhammad Shah’s musicians and dancing girls. An early attraction was the court of Faizabad in Avadh, which had achieved a reputation for prosperity and patronage under the nawab Shuja-ud-Daula.

Many went to small courts in Rajasthan, to the west. As the Maratha Wars gradually drew to a close in the first two decades of the 19th century, other small states were reconstituted or devised under the Pax Britannica, and they developed court musical establishments. Among them were three musically important states, ruled by Maratha dynasties descended from soldiers of fortune: Indore, Baroda and the old state of Gwalior. The gradual drift of professional musicians to wealthy Bengali patrons, both landlord and merchant, in Calcutta also began in the early 19th century, and Varanasi has always supported musicians. The largest number of musicians, however, went to Lucknow, to the court of the nawabs of Avadh and to the employ of wealthy courtiers there, many of whom became accomplished and recognized artists in their own right, although on an amateur basis. For about 75 years Lucknow was the premier centre of art music of north India. Its hegemony ended only with the deposition of Nawab Wājid Alī Shāh in 1856 and the war of 1857. In these two years Hakīm Muhammad Karam Imam wrote his Ma’danu’l-mūsīqī, a vivid account of music at Lucknow and elsewhere in north India in the first half of the 19th century (Willard, 1834).

Courtesans (tawāif) are also known to have played an important role in the musical life of north Indian urban centres, especially Lucknow, from the late 18th century and into the 20th. There were women who were highly trained in khayāl and perhaps even dhrupad (as well as in the lighter, and increasingly popular, thumrī and ghazal), as represented for example in the Urdu novel Umrāo jān adā (1899) by Mirzā Muhammad Rusvā.

During the 260 years between the composition of Abul Fazl’s Ā’īn-i akbarī (1597) and Hakīm Imam’s Ma’danu’l-mūsīqī (1857), Kalāvant, Qavvāl and Dhārhī, the three chief categories of musician, continued to form the socio-musical basis of Hindustani music, but both status and repertory altered somewhat. Some Kalāvant traditions now included khayāl as well as dhrupad, although the Qavvāl too were still important as khayāliyā. Between Kalāvant and Qavvāl, however, there were substantial differences in the manner of rendition. Imam reported that

… the singing of Khayāl has been prevalent among Qavvals but they do not have Ālāp [introductory exposition of rāga without text, metre, or pulse]. Instead they begin with words of Tarānā that are in Persian and after exercising these words for some time they straight come to Khayāl, etc., and quickly create a highly colourful effect. So much so, that the people who practice Ālāp appear inferior before them. But to Kalavants, however, the primary thing is Ālāp.

Qavvāl also continued to sing Sufi devotional music such as qaūl, and they did not sing dhrupad.

All musician communities had lost status, but the Dhārhī community, regardless of where it had stood in the 16th century, had lost the most. The Dhārhī still accompanied with drum and a small string instrument, but most were now reduced to earning their living by accompanying dancing-girls. Indeed most, though not all, of the musicians identified by Imam as Dhārhī played the Sārangī (then and until modern times closely associated with courtesan singers tawāif or bāī) and the Tablā, both used to accompany khayāl as well as thumrī but not to accompany dhrupad.

For the whole of this period a hitherto little used historical resource is found in iconography and miniature painting (fig.3). The Mughal and provincial courts provided patronage for painters, who alongside portraiture and literary themes richly represented scenes of court life in their work, including many details of musical activity. From the numerous published collections and catalogues much may be learnt about musical life and its organization as well as the nature of musical instruments and their playing methods.

India, Subcontinent of, §II, 4: History of classical music, Oral traditions after the 16th century.

(iii) Hindustani traditions from the mid-19th century to the 20th.

The process of shifting repertories and categories continued rapidly after 1857. The Dhārhī lost their group identity as professional musicians; their role as sārangī accompanists for singing-girls (and later for khayāliyā) was taken over by a formerly rural community called Mirāsī and by Kathaks. The Qavvāl continued to interact professionally and to intermarry with Kalāvant until they were effectively absorbed by the latter in their secular professional capacities; Qavvāl today are only a category of specialists in qavvālī (Muslim devotional music). The Kalāvant community meanwhile added khayāl to dhrupad in vocal music, and the sitar and later sarod (both plucked string instruments) to those that were already part of their heritage (the bīn and rabāb, and a now obsolete derivative of the latter called sur-śrngār). The term ‘Kalāvant’ now usually has the sense of any professional vocalist (other than a singing-girl).

The sampradāya (‘traditions’) of Hindustani music were strongly family-orientated, and by the end of the 19th century Hindustani sampradāya were being called gharānā (‘family’). In almost all circumstances non-family disciples could also associate themselves with a gharānā, but some musicians would reserve part of what they knew for their sons alone. The gharānā were named after the place of their origin.

(a) Discipular gharānā: Agra and Gwalior.

One of the two or three most admired musicians of modern times was Faiyaz Khan, who was chief musician of the Gaekwar of Baroda from about 1915 until his death. Faiyaz Khan’s paternal grandfather and father belonged to the so-called Sikandra (or Rangīle) gharānā, but because of the early death of his father, Faiyaz Khan was trained by his maternal grandfather, Ghulam Abbas Khan, a representative of the Agra gharānā. Ghulam Abbas Khan was the eldest son of Ghagghe Khudā Bakhsh (c1800–c1855), who in turn was the youngest son of one Śyāmaranga, about whom little more is reported than that he was a descendant of Sujān Singh, said to have been a musician of Akbar’s court. Ghagghe Khudā Bakhsh, the founder of the Agra gharānā, learnt dhrupad from his father and uncle, but owing to his ghigghu (‘choked-up’) voice they gave him little encouragement. Hence he set out for Gwalior to learn khayāl from Nathan Khān and Pīr Bakhsh, hoping they would be able to clear up his vocal problem. They agreed to take him as a student, and in exchange, Ghagghe Khudā Bakhsh taught them dhrupad belonging to his own family tradition. As a result of this contact both the Agra gharānā and the Gwalior gharānā have reflected something of an admixture of dhrupad improvisatory techniques in their rendition of khayāl.

Another important representative of the Agra gharānā was Vilāyat Husain Khān (1895–1962), whose Sangīt-jñō samsmaran (New Delhi, 1959) is a basic source for information on the family and discipular successions that formed modern Hindustani music.

The Gwalior gharānā is one of the oldest of the recognized modern sampradāya and the one most generally significant for Hindustani music in the 20th century. The first remembered names are two brothers who are said to have come from somewhere near Delhi in about 1800 and to have spent their entire careers in the service of the Scindia (Maratha) ruler of Gwalior. Beyond the fact that the brothers were only khayāl singers, nothing is known of their antecedents. The next generation was represented by Nathan Khān and Pīr Bakhsh. As mentioned above, they learnt dhrupad from Ghagghe Khudā Bakhsh of Agra. The following generation was represented by Haddū Khān (d c1870) and Hassū Khān, who are considered the founders of the gharānā. The characteristic eclecticism of the Gwalior gharānā is illustrated by the way in which they absorbed yet another tradition. The Gwalior ruler Jhankojī II (reigned 1827–43) heard the great Qavvāl musician Muhammad Khān (d c1840), who was at the court of Reva. Jhankojī determined that his musicians Haddū and Hassū Khān should acquire Muhammad Khān’s repertory and above all his style. Muhammad Khān was the son of Qavvāl Shakkar Khān and the grandson of the 18th-century Lucknow Qavvāl musician Ghulām Rasūl. In addition he had himself developed a brilliant new style of passage-work, which none so far had succeeded in imitating. Over a period of years the Gwalior ruler invited Muhammad Khān for long stays and frequent performances, during which Haddū and Hassū Khān, hiding behind a curtain, gradually picked up Muhammad Khān’s repertory and worked out his technique.

The ways in which the earliest generations of the Gwalior gharānā built up their stock of compositions, styles and techniques (by inheritance from their own relatively obscure forebears, by barter with a Kalāvant musician and by theft from a Qavvāl musician) indicate how music and musicianship were regarded as something to be treasured, as the private property of the family and the ultimate foundation of its prosperity. Haddū Khān and his brother, however, were as generous in sharing their musical wealth as they and their father and uncle had been zealous in acquiring it. The gharānā was represented by family descendants and disciples, but the enormous impact of the Gwalior gharānā on Hindustani music today has been through musicians from Maharashtra. The Gwalior ruling house being Maharashtrian, a number of Maharashtrians became resident there; among them was Joshi Bua (Vāsudeva Buvā Jośī), a senior disciple of Haddū Khān and a court musician. Balakrishna Bua (Bālakrsna Buvā; 1849–1926) came to Joshi Bua for musical studies from a small estate in Maharashtra called Ichalkaranji. Balakrishna Bua too became a distinguished disciple of the Gwalior gharānā, accepted as full colleague and equal by Haddū Khān’s sons Muhammad Khān and Rahīmat Khān (c1860–1922).

Balakrishna Bua’s disciple Vishnu Digambar Paluskar probably did more than any other single person to bring Hindustani classical music into the 20th century from the 19th-century world of princely courts, high artistic secrets and low social status. In 1897 he gave what was probably the first concert of Hindustani classical music where admission was by public ticket sale rather than private invitation. In 1901 in Lahore he opened the first public music school, the Gandharva Mahāvidyālaya. In later years his best disciples and their disciples opened branches in other cities. Vishnu Digambar was a convinced nationalist and linked Hindustani music (as an indigenous high art neither stifled nor adulterated by European rule) with the nationalist movement. He helped to make Hindustani music respectable by enabling students of middle-class families to perform publicly under the auspices of the music school. In a comparable stratagem of a purely musical sort, he took the beautiful and supple rāgas used for thumrī, with their associations with courtesans, and made tunes in them for the favourite devotional songs of the medieval Hindi poets, thus making those rāgas also respectable.

Vishnu Digambar’s own great musicianship and his popular appeal as a performer made his propaganda for classical music ultimately successful. However, in addition to training thousands of future supporters of music through the Gandharva Mahāvidyālaya, he trained his own professional disciples as rigorously as he had himself been trained, and more systematically. A senior disciple, Vinayak Rao Patwardhan, in turn taught Vishnu Digambar’s only son, D.V. Paluskar (1921–55).

Vishnu Digambar’s most successful disciple was Omkarnath Thakur, who added a strong emotional element to what he received from the Gwalior tradition. After a brilliant public career of over 30 years, Omkarnath Thakur accepted an invitation to institute a college for music as part of Banaras Hindu University. For the degree courses he provided, with the assistance of two of his students, a six-volume textbook, Sangītāñjalī, which is the fullest existing source of Hindustani classical music in notation, providing complete typical improvisatory elaborations as well as compositions. Two further volumes remain in manuscript.

(b) Court gharānā: Jaipur and Rampur.

The word gharānā is also sometimes applied solecistically to a particularly brilliant local assemblage of musicians, not necessarily otherwise connected by blood or training. During the latter part of the 19th century princely houses that had chosen the winning side in the 1857 war were in a position to build up their musical establishments rapidly if they so chose, and one that did was Jaipur. Two of the last generation of concert musicians identified as Qavvāl came there in 1870 from the state of Alwar, which had been put under a regency council by the British. One was the son of that Qavvāl Muhammad Khān from whom Haddū and Hassū Khān of Gwalior had stolen the secret of his passage-work. The other was his nephew, who was also the son-in-law of Haddū Khān. Also at Jaipur was the sitāriyā Imrat Sen (1813–93), who inherited the masītkhānī sitār tradition on both sides of his family. His father, Rahīm Sen, had been taught by his maternal grandfather, Dulhe Khān, and both were descendants of Masīt Khān. Yet another Jaipur line springs from the dhrupadiyā Bahrām Khān of the so-called Saharanpur gharānā. Through his brother’s grandchildren Bahrām Khān was the musical progenitor of the musicians who now have the surname Dagar and who are the best-known of the few remaining representatives of dhrupad singing and Hindustani bīn playing (see §(c) below).

Another lineage at Jaipur is historically important for its connection with Vishnu Narayan Bhatkhande. The ancestors of the Jaipur musicians Ishāq Alī Khān (d 1915) and his father Muhammad Alī Khān came from Faruqābād (where an important modern tradition of the tablā also originated). Around 1900 Ishāq Alī Khān, hard-pressed financially, agreed to teach khayāl to V.N. Bhatkhande for a few months on a monthly stipend. Because of his fluency in using his own (letter) notation Bhatkhande could collect not a few but a few hundred compositions, many of which were ultimately published in his Kramik pustak-mālikā (see §3(vi) above).

The musical establishment at the court of Rampur was Bhatkhande’s other major source of repertory, and according to K.C.D. Brhaspati (1966), it was also a source of his notion of basing a rāga classification on ten scale-type thāt. The Rampur establishment was founded by Nawab Yūsuf Alī Khān (reigned 1840–64), who brought a number of musicians to Rampur from Lucknow after the last nawab of Avadh was deposed in 1856. The next nawab’s younger brother Haidar Alī Khān (1846–c1905) was one of the enthusiastic noble amateurs not uncommon in princely India and the foremost disciple of two important musicians of the court. Haidar Alī Khān is said to have given one of these musicians 100,000 rupees for 307 compositions belonging to the Tānsen tradition. Haidar Alī Khān was himself the teacher of the bīn player Wazīr Khān (1863–1926). After the death of the latter’s father he also taught his own son, known as Chamman Sahib (1879–1922). Chamman Sahib was in turn one of Bhatkhande’s principal collaborators in his work at Rampur after 1917. The other, reluctantly, was Wazīr Khān. Bhatkhande made himself a formal disciple of the then reigning nawab, who thereupon required Wazīr Khān to teach the repertory handed down in oral tradition from Tānsen, lest it be lost, and the Tānsen dhrupad published in the Kramik pustak-mālikā were thus obtained from Wazīr Khān.

Wazīr Khān also had distinguished disciples of a more traditional sort; one was the sarod player Hafiz Alī Khān (d 1972). Hafiz Alī Khān’s great-grandfather, who played the (plucked) rabāb, came from Afghanistan and took service at the court of Reva, learning classical Hindustani music there. Hafiz Alī Khān’s grandfather Ghulām Alī Khān went to Gwalior after 1857 and is supposed to have developed the modern sarod from the rabāb. After his father died Hafiz Alī Khān went to Rampur to learn from Wazīr Khān. Wazīr Khān’s best-known disciple was Allauddin Khan, who came to Rampur from what is now Bangladesh. Allauddin Khan’s son Ali Akbar Khan and his son-in-law and disciple Ravi Shankar are now artists with international reputations.

(c) Other gharānā and the later 20th century.

Vastly improved communications and widened public patronage (see §5 below) have brought numerous performers, including those of the earlier days of broadcasting and performing, to popular and even international fame. Singers of the Gwalior and Agra gharānā, the Kirana gharānā (Abdul Karim Khan, Hirabai Barodekar, Gangubai Hangal, Bhimsen Joshi), the Patiala gharānā (Bade Ghulam Ali Khan), the ‘Alladiya Khan’ or Jaipur gharānā (Mallikarjun Mansur, Kesarbai Kerkar, Mogubai Kurdikar, Kishori Amonkar), the Sahaswan/Rampur gharānā (Mushtaq Hussein Khan, Nisar Hussein Khan), the Mewar gharānā (Pandit Jasraj) and others like Kumar Gandharva and the Indore singer Amir Khan, whose formative influences were more diverse, strengthened the position of khayāl as the leading classical Hindustani vocal genre of the century. Some (Abdul Karim Khan, Bade Ghulam Ali Khan and others) were also noted thumrī singers. Thumrī has also been prominently performed and recorded by specialist singers such as Siddheswari Devi and Girija Devi of Banāras (now Varanasi). The same widening of access and patronage has more recently come to reduce the emphasis on gharānā as such, while some singers (Bhimsen Joshi, Kishori Amonkar, and most notably Kumar Gandharva) extended their gāyakī (vocal styles) deliberately and experimentally. In the meantime dhrupad, which for much of the 20th century was in relative obscurity or decline, has in the last quarter of the century seen a revival of interest and patronage, first through the work (performing and teaching) of the vocalists and bīn players of the Dagar family and their pupils, and latterly at functions in north India arranged to revitalize the many lesser known regional and familial traditions (Widdess, 1994). Hindustani instrumental music has particularly flourished, enjoying as it does a greater independence from vocal music than in the Karnatak tradition, and here again, changing (including international) patronage has played a role. Certain instruments (śahnāī, bānsurī, sārangī etc.) have emerged as solo performers from a previously more subordinate function, while others (sitār, sarod) have longer histories as solo instruments. In the case of the tablā even a decline in solo demand is sometimes noted (Miner, 1993; Kippen, 1988, p.100).

India, Subcontinent of, §II: History of classical music

5. Classical music, the state and the middle class.

During the 19th century the source of patronage for Indian art music was the princely court (in south India the temple as well). By the mid-19th century older courts and newly established ones alike had come under British control. The British rulers themselves, controlling more than half the subcontinent directly, did nothing for music. Nor was this just a matter of deliberate non-interference in indigenous affairs, for they involved themselves in areas such as archaeology and philology. However, unlike the Mughals whom they succeeded, the British rulers were generally hostile to Indian art music, at best seeing it as the decadent legacy of a golden past. Only a few, outstanding among them Augustus Willard, seem to have been able to hear and come to understand it in its own terms (see §6 below).

The new clerical and professional middle class that founded the All-India National Congress in 1885 was also becoming a new source of patronage for musicians. The Gāyan Samāj was established in Pune in 1874, a branch was started in British Madras in 1883, and from 1895, many sangīta sabhā (‘music societies’) were established. In British Bengal the pioneering researches and creative achievements of sourindro mohun Tagore (who like the south Indian musicologist Chinnasvami Mudaliyar became centrally involved in the debate over the appropriateness of Bengali and Western notation to Indian music; cf Capwell, 1986, 1991; Farrell, 1997) and rabindranath tagore contributed to this growing awareness, as did the scholarly and artistic example and the promotional activities of V.N. Bhatkhande and Vishnu Digambar in British Bombay. When the Indian National Congress met in Madras in 1927–8, national independence was declared for the first time to be the goal of the movement, and it is symbolic that surplus funds from the congress were used to found the Madras Music Academy for the research, teaching and sponsorship of Indian classical music.

When independence came in 1947 it was the beginning of profound changes in the patronage of the performing arts. All-India Radio (AIR), established in British days, was made the medium for state patronage of classical music as a matter of deliberate policy by B.V. Keskar during his tenure as Minister for Information and Broadcasting. While some professional musicians subsist through teaching and concerts as well as broadcasts, for most AIR provides a reasonably steady income, depending on the connection and the status that the artist has. Both ‘staff artists’ in the regular employ of AIR and ‘casual artists’ who give occasional broadcasts are graded, and salaries or fees for broadcast performances are adjusted accordingly. A few top-ranking musicians are ungraded. Performing artists are among those who teach in schools and music colleges as well as taking private pupils. Classical music is commonly cultivated by the urban middle class as a worthwhile educational pursuit.

In 1916 the first All-India Music Conference was convened under the guidance of V.N. Bhatkhande and sponsored by the Gaekwar of Baroda. Both performers and scholars were invited. In subsequent decades the expression ‘music conference’ has come to mean a concert series. Such series constitute a principal venue for classical music in north India. In south India the annual Music Academy conferences have been the model for other conferences, and the patronage of the numerous sangīta-sabhā continues, but with an ever-increasing proportion of non-musical events.

Important patronage has also been provided by commercial recording companies. Within the first decade of the 20th century the Gramophone Company (later called HMV) and its sister companies in Calcutta, Lahore, Varanasi and elsewhere had made a large number of recordings. Other companies came into being in the 1930s, and shortly after independence foreign companies began to record Indian artists, thus promoting interest in Indian music abroad. From the 1980s audio cassettes began to supplant vinyl discs, and in the 1990s CDs, though still a luxury in India, appeared in rising numbers there and abroad. The repertory recorded is vast and widening, and there are inevitable consequences in both the professional and the public perception of a music that was formerly largely dependent on single, unrepeated and open-ended performances. As a promoter of music, the power of recording is beyond dispute (see also §VIII, 2 below).

India, Subcontinent of, §II: History of classical music

6. Indian music and the West.

In the 20th century Indian classical music enjoyed some prestige outside the subcontinent itself. Hindustani practice and theory exerted considerable influence in the higher musical culture of Afghanistan, and Indian communities around the world have to varying degrees fostered their cultural traditions. The roots of Western awareness of Indian music (never extensive before the late years of British rule in India) may be found in the late 18th century. Until then, apart from some rather random observations (mainly of dancers) by travellers, there was little serious interest among Europeans. A few brief accounts or comments of greater value are exceptions, such as those by the 17th-century Italian Pietro della Valle (including a description of a string instrument, apparently a vīnā, and its player), Marin Mersenne in his Harmonie universelle of 1636–7 (also observations, some misunderstood, on instruments that had found their way into European collections), the German-born Danish missionary Bartholemaeus Ziegenbalg, whose Malabarisches Heidenthum of 1711 contained a substantial pioneering account of Indian musical theory and instruments, and the French traveller Pierre Sonnerat, whose Voyages aux Indes Orientales et à la Chine, published in 1782, again contained information on musical instruments.

In the 1780s a small group of prominent English women resident in Calcutta began to take an interest in Indian music and to employ musicians to play melodies which they then transcribed, sang and played on the harpsichord, and eventually published in part. The ‘Hindostannie Air’ was promoted especially by Sophia Plowden (wife of an East India Company employee), whose friends Margaret Fowke and her brother Francis supplied her with songs collected in Banāras (where Francis Fowke was Govenor). Sophia Plowden was able herself to collect material from Lucknow. In 1789 a collection of ‘airs’ transcribed for harpsichord was published in Calcutta as The Oriental Miscellany: being a Collection of the most Favourite Airs of Hindoostan by the musician William Hamilton Bird. Around 1795 a further collection appeared, compiled by Charles Trinks, and this was followed by others in London. An important further manuscript collection, also containing depictions of instruments, is in the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge. The melodies, many of them apparently of ‘light’ musical forms in simple metres like dādrā, and many of which seem to have been considerably ‘adapted’ despite an aim to maintain authenticity, proved to be of some passing interest to composers in England in the early 19th century, who even based some compositions on them.

It appears to have been such collecting that first attracted the English Oriental scholar Sir William Jones (founder of the Asiatic Society of Bengal) to the study of Indian music. Together with the Governor-General Warren Hastings he helped Margaret Fowke in her collecting of songs, and in the first volume of the Society’s Asiatick Researchers (1788) he published a detailed letter on the vīnā by Francis Fowke. Through Fowke he was able to hear a vīnā player, probably Jivan Shah of Banāras, and in 1784 he wrote his treatise On the Musical Modes of the Hindoos, which he published in the third volume of the Asiatick Researches in 1792. Such interest as followed was largely due to Jones’s impetus, though his pioneering essay was before long superseded. Captain N. Augustus Willard’s remarkable 1834 Treatise on the Music of Hindoostan shows a more direct acquaintance with actual musical practice than Jones’s work, which relied more on what he could determine of ancient theoretical precepts.

A valuable pictorial resource is the systematic portrayal of musical instruments and players made by the Flemish artist François Balthazar Solvyns (1760–1824) in the 1790s. He made a collection of drawings depicting many areas of life in Bengal, and in the second volume of the later edition (Paris, 1810) 35 plates of musicians and one of a nautch (dance) are introduced and accompanied by detailed notes. Some 19th-century works of universal and comparative musicology (William C. Stafford: A History of Music, 1830; François Joseph Fétis: Histoire générale de la musique, ii, 1869; J. Adrien de la Fage: Histoire générale de la musique et de la danse, 1844) and works by Carl Engel, Meadows Taylor, Alexander Ellis and others, show a gradual (if somewhat haphazard and often exoticist) increase of European interest in, and awareness of, Indian as well as other non-Western musics.

Fresh impetus came from S.M. Tagore, who corresponded and met with Western scholars, published many works on music himself (including a still useful anthology of writings by Jones, Willard, Fowke and others) and sent collections of Indian instruments, some of them fanciful hybrids, abroad to leading scholarly and musical institutions. These collections were studied by Western scholars including Curt Sachs and Joanny Grosset. Grosset’s major article in the Encyclopédie de la musique et dictionnaire du Conservatoire (Paris, 1913) may be counted the beginning of modern interest in Indian music in the French-speaking world, as were, for the English, C.H. Day’s The Music and Musical Instruments of Southern India and the Deccan (1891) and A.H. Fox Strangways’s The Music of Hindostan (1914; see §X below). The emphasis on music as it was practised, rather than as reflecting classical theory, was a departure from much of the Western writing of the 19th century.

Hardly any performances of Indian classical music were heard in the West before the end of the 19th century, though there is some evidence of migrant Indians active in the late Victorian popular culture of London. Day refers to a Jaipur bīn player in London in 1886, and some other instrumentalists and dancers subsequently performed at international exhibitions in Britain and in Europe, affording composers like Debussy and Holst some limited contact with Asian music. Certainly Debussy met the musician and Sufi Hazrat Inayat Khan, who was on a European tour with a troupe of performers in 1912–14 and who enjoyed a somewhat more enthusiastic, though equally uninformed, response in France than in England. In Moscow, Inayat Khan impressed Sergei Tolstoy and others with his attempts to blend Eastern and Western music, and well into the 1920s, until his return to India, he continued to propagate Indian music and Eastern philosophy in England, Europe and America.

Inayat Khan’s Western experience was partly a missionary venture, and the following he found among his audience combined religious and artistic interests. Rabindranath Tagore first visited England in 1880 and returned to the West many times, exerting some influence as a philosopher and educationist. His meeting with the Englishman Leonard Elmhirst in New York in 1921 resulted in the establishment of the school, college and theatre at Dartington Hall in Devonshire, England. Dartington developed as an important centre for Indian arts, where Indian music continued to be studied with Western and with visiting Indian artists and teachers up to the early 1990s.

The dancer Uday Shankar worked with the Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova (1881–1931) in London in the 1920s, and in collaboration they produced a number of dance productions that mixed Indian and Western forms. In the later 1930s Shankar, with a troupe of musicians, presented to American and European audiences concerts of Indian music somewhat tailored to Western requirements. Among those they presented for the first time in the West were the sarod player Allāuddin Khān (d 1972) and his pupil Ravi Shankar (b 1920), younger brother of Uday Shankar. From the 1950s Ravi Shankar, the sarod player Ali Akbar Khan and the tablā players Chatur Lal and Alla Rakha (1919–2000) became the best known and most influential of an increasing number of Hindustani instrumentalists touring the West. In the later 1960s a brief period of exoticism in Western popular music made some of the sounds of Hindustani music superficially familiar, but at the same time Ravi Shankar and others were also beginning to play to large audiences in concert halls and to record with major Western companies. Some syncretistic experiments followed as a result of encounters between Indian and Western composers and jazz musicians. It would be hard to claim that many of these have stood the test of time, but Indian music in its own right has increasingly prospered in the West. From the 1970s international interest became engaged with vocal and with Karnatak performances, and practical teaching and academic research (see §X below) in Indian music have gradually established a footing in European and American institutions.

This section addresses the styles and structures of Indian classical music as it is performed today and as it has been described over centuries in the theoretical works introduced in §II above. While practice has always moved ahead of theory, theory has articulated the underlying concepts and provided a technical vocabulary that is still used by musicians today. Study of the theoretical sources reveals how Indian music has constantly changed and developed while remaining faithful to certain underlying principles.

III. Theory and practice of classical music.

The science of music (sangīta) is traditionally divided into vocal music (gīta), instrumental music (vādya) and dance (nrtya). This sequence underlies the highly influential treatise Sangīta-ratnākara by the 13th-century writer Śārngadeva. Śārngadeva further divided his account of vocal music into (1) tonal systems; (2) rāga; (3) melodic elaboration and (vocal) ensembles; (4) compositions; (5) tāla (as articulated by rhythmic instruments); (6) instruments and instrumental music; (7) dance. This sequence is followed in the present section, except that the topic ‘Rhythm and tāla’ (§4 below), which applies to both vocal and instrumental music, precedes ‘Compositions, genres and performance of vocal music’ (§5 below).

1. Tonal systems.

2. Rāga.

3. Melodic elaboration.

4. Rhythm and tāla.

5. Compositions, genres and performance of vocal music.

6. Instrumental traditions.

7. Aesthetics.

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music.

1. Tonal systems.

(i) Svara.

(ii) History of tonal systems.

(iii) Scale-types in modern theory.

(iv) The 22 śruti in modern theory.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 1: Theory and practice of classical music., Tonal systems.

(i) Svara.

Svara can have two senses: an abstract pitch class, a scale degree; or a melodic element, a scale degree in a melodic context. The names of the seven svara and the syllables by which they are solmized in teaching and performance are set out in Table 1. The syllables can function as an oral and a written notation. Three octave registers (sthāna ‘position’ or saptak ‘group of 7’) called mandra (‘soft’, ‘low’), madhya (‘medium’) and tāra (‘carrying’, ‘high’) are associated with the chest, throat and head registers of the voice respectively. Additional lower and higher octaves (atimandra, atitāra) are encountered in instrumental music.

Since the 16th century the first scale degree, sadja, has functioned as a universal reference-pitch or tonic for all rāgas and is sustained or reiterated as a drone accompaniment (kharaj, sur, śruti). The svara refer to relative pitches, not to a common pitch standard, since each soloist fixes the sadja at a pitch to suit his or her voice or instrument. The chosen pitch may be defined with reference to the keys of the harmonium: kālī ek ‘first black [key]’ (C), safed do ‘second white’ (D) etc. In Western writings, and in this article, sadja is equated by convention with C. In most rāgas, either the perfect fourth or the perfect fifth degree, madhyama or pañcama, is also structurally important and is usually included in the drone. The functions and pitches of the remaining svara vary from rāga to rāga.

Svara can be construed as scale degrees, defined in terms of the 22 microtones (śruti) of ancient theory or the 12 pitch positions (svarasthāna) of modern practice. In addition there are particular ways of treating each scale degree in specific musical contexts, referred to as gamaka (‘ornament’), lāg (‘way of taking’), uccār (‘pronunciation’) etc. Sometimes the way of treating a svara is designated by reference to a well-known rāga: Kānadā ga or Todī ga, Adānā ni or Bhairavī ni etc. A pitch becomes a svara by virtue of a particular mode of approach, prolongation and release (see §3(i) below).

Svara are also defined in terms of intervallic relationships. Theory from the Nātyaśāstra onwards identifies three such relationships: ‘consonant’ (samvādī), perfect 4ths and 5ths; ‘dissonant’ (vivādī), minor 2nds and major 7ths; and ‘assonant’ (anuvādī), all other intervals. Consonance (samvāda) is required between the predominant note of a rāga (called the amśa or vādī) and its companion a 4th or 5th distant, the samvādī. It also obtains between other notes, melodic motifs and registers (see §2(iii)–(iv) below). Therefore it is an important factor in the structure and evolution of scales, rāgas and melodies, especially in Hindustani music. Intervallic relationships are important not only between the successive pitches of a melody, but also between each individual svara and the ever-present drone.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 1: Theory and practice of classical music., Tonal systems.

(ii) History of tonal systems.

The history of Indian tonal systems shows a gradual change, (1) from a microtonal to a semitonal division of the octave; (2) from a variable tonic system, where each svara can serve as the ground-note of scales and modes, to the use of sa as a universal system-tonic; and (3) from a system in which only three svara are of variable relative pitch to systems in which all are variable except sa and pa. The relationship of modern practice to older systems, and of each to Pythagorean and other tonal theories, has been the subject of intense debate among Western and Indian scholars. The theoretical primacy of heptatonic scales may reflect distant links with other Asian systems of antiquity, but hexatonic and especially pentatonic structures have been equally important. Scales with augmented 2nds appear in theory from the 16th century onwards and presumably reflect the arrival at Indian courts of musicians from Islamic Central Asia and Iran.

(a) Ancient Indian terms: grāma, śruti, mūrcchanā.

(b) The tonal system of the Sangīta-ratnākara.

(d) The development of the Hindustani general scale.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 1(ii): Theory and practice of classical music., Tonal systems., i) History of tonal systems.

(a) Ancient Indian terms: grāma, śruti, mūrcchanā.

In chapter 28 of the Nātyaśāstra the svara are arranged in two scales, or rather pitch-collections (grāma), named sadja-grāma and madhyama-grāma after their starting pitches. The grāmas are defined in terms of 22 equal microtonal intervals (śruti) and in terms of consonant intervals (samvāda) between specified svara. Each svara is considered to comprise both the pitch of the note itself and the interval of two, three or four śrutis separating the note from its lower neighbour (see Table 2). Representation in Western notation can only be approximate, because the grāmas included three sizes of scale-step, measuring two, three and four śruti. In practice the three śruti steps (ri and dha in sadja-grāma, pa and ri in madhyama-grāma) may have been rendered as undulating rather than as steady pitches, at least by singers and flute-players.

The consonant intervals are defined as measuring nine śruti (perfect 4th) and 13 śruti (perfect 5th); 4ths of ten or 5ths of twelve śruti were not considered consonant. Thus in the sadja-grāma, pa is consonant with sa but not with ri, but vice versa in the madhyama-grāma. Each grāma may be conceived of as chains of consonant 4ths or 5ths. In the sadja-grāma, these are pa –sa –ma –ni –ga plus ri –dha; in the madhyama-grāma, sa –ma –ni –ga and pa –ri –dha. However, the interval ma –ni, though measuring nine śruti in both grāma, is not listed as a consonance in the Nātyaśāstra, perhaps because these two svara are of unequal size (four and two śruti respectively) and therefore occur in different melodic contexts.

In the grāma system only three svara (ga, ni and pa) were of variable pitch relative to the others. In all other instances the śruti between the svara were not recognized as scale degrees. Ga and ni could each be raised by two śruti to serve as sharpened leading-notes to ma and sa. The raised pitches are called antara ga and kākalī ni. The process of pitch alteration is called svara-sādhārana (‘overlapping of pitches’).

Pa is consonant with sa in the sadja-grāma and ri in the madhyama-grāma. Consequently it is one śruti lower, relative to its neighbours, in the madhyama-grāma than it is in the sadja-grāma. This difference, as demonstrated in the Nātyaśāstra by a hypothetical experiment with the tuning of two vīnās (here referring to harps), is the pramāna-śruti (the ‘measuring’ śruti), the unit of measurement by which all other intervals were theoretically defined.

A seven-string bow harp (vipañcī-vīnā) could be tuned in either grāma with any of the seven scale degrees as its lowest pitch. Each of the resulting scales, seven in each grāma, was called a mūrcchanā and was a specific scale-type. However, the ancient mūrcchanā, with their different ground-notes, have been replaced in modern theory by scales with a common ground-note (melā and thāt: see §(iv) below). A hexa- or pentatonic mūrcchanā was called a tāna; this term has survived in modern usage, but with different meanings. In Hindustani music tān means a phrase of a rāga, or rapid passage-work in khayāl (see §5(iii)(b) below). Tānam in Karnatak music refers to a pulsed but unmeasured improvisatory style (see §5(iv) below).

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 1(ii): Theory and practice of classical music., Tonal systems., i) History of tonal systems.

(b) The tonal system of the Sangīta-ratnākara.

By the 13th century the grāma-śruti system of the Nātyaśāstra was almost certainly defunct in practice, though still of fundamental importance to theory. One result was the re-interpretation of the system in metaphysical terms, another was the recognition of ‘modified’ (vikrta) pitches in addition to the primary or ‘pure’ (śuddha) pitches of the sadja-grāma. The process begins in the Brhad-deśī of Matanga (perhaps 8th or 9th century), which restates the grāma-śruti system and discusses the nature and number of śruti and their ontological relationship to svara. It also presents theories of sound (nāda) based on Tantric metaphysics and physiology. In the Sangīta-ratnākara of Śārngadeva these two strands are combined, so that an existential reality is ascribed to the 22 śruti. When Desire brings the nā of Breath and the da of Fire together to form nāda (sound), that primordial nāda passes upwards through the body until it reaches the lowest cakra at which sound becomes material enough actually to be heard: the heart; this corresponds to the chest register of music. Here there are 22 channels from which the 22 śruti are produced. The 22 śruti in the two higher registers are produced in the throat and head. The reality of the 22 śruti is then supposedly demonstrated through the hypothetical tuning of two vīnā, each with 22 strings.

Table 3a shows how Śārngadeva expanded the grāma system of the Nātyaśāstra by introducing 12 ‘modified’ (vikrta) pitches. The impetus for this development may have been a trend in practice towards a 12-semitone scale. However, Śārngadeva's system provides additional pitch positions only in the regions ga –ma and ni –sa, where there were already the alternative notes antara ga and kākalī ni in the Nātyaśāstra system (Table 3c). In Śārngadeva's system, furthermore, wherever one svara is transformed by being on other than its own proper śruti, the svara immediately above it is also transformed, even if it has not moved, since it now no longer has the proper number of śruti below it. Table 3a, line (i), for instance, shows the reduction of pa by one śruti that produces the madhyama-grāma. Pa is now a vikrta svara because it has been lowered, but dha is also vikrta since it now has four śruti (‘catuś-śruti ’) instead of its proper three śruti. The sa and ma in line (ii) are also vikrta because they now have only two śruti, even though they are ‘not fallen’ (acyuta) from their proper positions.

Another curious feature of Śārngadeva's system (Table 3a, line (iii)) is the introduction of a ‘fallen’ (cyuta) sa, perhaps by analogy with the lowered pa of the madhyama-grāma, and similarly a ‘fallen’ ma. Unfortunately Śārngadeva does not explain the practical application of any of these new modified pitches. He gives only the musica ficta-like rules for using antara ga and kākalī ni, in direct or indirect returns to ma and sa respectively, and only these two vikrta are mentioned in rāga definitions.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 1(ii): Theory and practice of classical music., Tonal systems., i) History of tonal systems.

(c) The development of the Karnatak general scale.

Whether intentionally or not, Śārngadeva provided the first step towards theoretical recognition and definition of the 12-step general scale that is now the basis of Karnatak music. The process was completed in south India by Rāmāmātya, whose stated purpose in writing his treatise Svaramelakalānidhi (c1550) was to reconcile outdated theory with current practice. He did so by a radical reinterpretation of the grāma system as previously modified by Śārngadeva. The illusion of continuity was maintained by the retention of much of the traditional terminology. His system, which forms the basis of the modern Karnatak rāga classification, is represented in Table 3b. Four changes to Śārngadeva's tonal system were made. (1) The pitches sa and pa were fixed at śruti numbers 4 and 17 respectively, with no modifications allowed; these pitches were by this time provided with drone strings on the vīnā, as they are on many string instruments today. (2) Śārngadeva's ‘fallen’ sa and ma are now treated as raised variants of ni and ga respectively, which consequently now have four pitch values each. Śārngadeva's names for all these pitch values are preserved. Similarly, the lowered pa of the madhyama-grāma is now considered a raised ma. (3) Rāmāmātya eliminates those four of Śārngadeva's modified svara that are at the same śruti positions as primary svara. (4) Ri and dha are each given two additional higher positions, called ‘five-śruti ’ (pañcaśruti) and ‘six-śruti ’ (satśruti). These coincide, however, with the two lowest positions of ga and ni respectively. They do not introduce any new pitch positions into the system but merely provide alternative names.

Thus far Rāmāmātya's changes appear relatively superficial. The scale still comprises 14 pitch positions, located at the same śruti as in Śārngadeva's system. However, he then proceeds to locate these pitch positions on the vīnā, which was by this time no longer an arched harp as in the Nātyaśāstra, but a long-necked, fretted zither resembling the modern Hindustani bīn (see §6 below). This had four melody strings tuned to sa –pa –sa –ma (C–G–c–f). In doing so he reduces the 14 theoretical pitch positions to 12 by allocating a single fret to two of the positions of ni (kākalī and cyuta-sadja), and a single fret to two of the positions of ga (antara and cyuta-madhyama), on the grounds that the pitch differences thereby eliminated are negligible. Rāmāmātya's fretting yields a 12-semitone division of the octave as shown in Table 3c. With small changes of terminology this remains the general scale used in Karnatak music today (Table 3d).

Table 4a shows Rāmāmātya's placement of the frets on the vīnā. Rāmāmātya states emphatically that their positions are predetermined (svayambhū, ‘self-existent’), not open to choice. He demonstrates how the frets are fixed by two sets of octave or unison equivalence, as shown in Table 4b. Fret 2 must be positioned so that the pa (g) on string IV at that fret is an octave above the open string II. Assuming that the frets are at right-angles to the strings, this also determines the pitches at the same fret on strings I to III. Of these, śuddha ni (A ) on string II fret 2 provides the pitch for fixing the octave higher on string IV fret 4. This in turn fixes kākalī ni (B ) (string II fret 4) from which the octave (string IV fret 6) can be positioned. A similar but descending sequence, beginning with open string III equals string II fret 5 (or IV open equals III fret 5), fixes the positions of the remaining frets (5, 3 and 1). The resulting pitches on fret 1 are out of tune with their namesakes at fret 6, but two of the latter were not used, being available on the next higher strings. Cyuta-pañcama (f ) on fret 1 is also out of tune with kākalī ni (B/b ) on frets 4 and 6. These discrepancies may not have been significant in practice.

As this system is presented by Rāmāmātya the original grāma system of the Nātyaśāstra appears to be intact: all the svara s of that system are still present and allocated to the same śruti positions. But in practice Rāmāmātya's system exhibits three fundamental differences: (1) the actual intervals of the scale now bear little relation to the theoretical śruti positions (compare Table 3b andc); (2) all scales and modes are now transposed to a common tonic, sa, which requires all other svara (apart from pa) to become movable; (3) Rāmāmātya's system makes it possible, for the first time in the Indian tradition, to express the interval of an augmented 2nd (e.g. between śuddha ri (d ) and antara ga (e )). Scales featuring this interval are prominent in his classification of rāgas, and it is possible that the influence of West or Central Asian musical systems played a part in this development.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 1(ii): Theory and practice of classical music., Tonal systems., i) History of tonal systems.

(d) The development of the Hindustani general scale.

A different approach to reconciling the 22 śruti with the semitonal scale of the stick zither vīnā is followed in another group of treatises, of which the Sangīta-pārijāta by Ahobala-pandịta is the most extensive, and probably the oldest. Like the Svaramelakalānidhi, it retains the traditional positions of the seven primary (śuddha) svara on the 22-śruti scale, at śruti nos.4, 7, 9, 13, 17, 20 and 22 (Table 5a). Thereafter it differs, first in that downward as well as upward alterations are proposed, second in that the designations for all the ‘modified’ (vikrta) svara are new.

Sa and pa are unalterable, as in Rāmāmātya's system. Every other svara may be raised from its primary position to one or two higher positions on the śruti scale, up to and including the śruti where it becomes equivalent to the next higher primary svara, except that sa and pa have no equivalents. Every variable svara except ma may also be altered downwards along the śruti scale in the same way, and with the same avoidance of sa and pa. The terminology for higher and lower modified positions is the same for every svara: two śrutis lower is pūrva (first); one lower is komala (soft); the primary position is śuddha (pure); one śruti higher is tīvra (sharp); two higher is tīvratara (sharper); three higher is tīvratama (very sharp); four higher is ati-tīvratama (extremely sharp).

No single svara uses all these terms, but every term is used somewhere, as seen in Table 5a. Except for ati-tīvratama ga, the pattern is the same as in Table 3b and c. There is a general scale of 12 pitch positions, with an unalterable sa and pa and a natural and a raised ma. The svara pairs ri –dha and ga –ni have three varieties for each svara, in overlapping sets such that only the lowest ri and dha and the highest ga and ni do not have equivalents.

The Sangīta-pārijāta’s equation of ati-tīvratama ga with śuddha ma plays no role in either modern Indian tonal system. It was not merely a theoretical construction, however, but rather accounted for a still important feature of rāgas of the Sārang type. (What is now described as śuddha ma in both Hindustani and Karnatak Sārang rāgas was then called ati-tīvratama ga. )

The pitch positions in the Sangīta-pārijāta (like those in the Svaramelakalānidhi) are demonstrated instrumentally. Rather than by consonant cross-fretting, however, a monochord-like method is used, based on divisions of a single string of the vīnā. The procedure is shown in Table 6. The basic principle is extremely simple. Every division must be made either in halves or in thirds, and of course the length to be divided must already be established. Dividing the whole string from bridge to mid-point establishes the system tonic (sa) and its upper octave. Half of that (a quarter of the whole) produces śuddha ma (f), and a third of the whole gives the immovable pa (g). The remaining intervals are determined by successively subdividing intervals already established (see Table 6). The śuddha dha (a) seems improbable (it is a quarter-tone higher than the harmonic major 6th, ⁵/₃, and an eighth-tone higher even than the Pythagorean major 6th). The komala dha also appears roughly a quarter-tone too high. But the approximation to natural intervals produced by this method is good in the lower half of the octave. Ahobala-pandịta adds that even if the division method were used at first, the resulting positions should then be adjusted by ear.

Here, as in the Svaramelakalānidhi, it is clear that a general scale of 12 semitones has been adopted and that its connection with the 22-śruti scale is tenuous. The Sangīta-pārijāta's reconciliation works better on the whole. Even so, both diatonic semitones and diatonic tones can be reckoned as three-śruti intervals (see Table 5a), and there are other anomalies.

The transition from the tonal system of the Sangīta-pārijāta to the modern Hindustani terminology was a little more complex than the corresponding transition in south India, since further changes took place. Firstly, the alternative names for equivalent pitches disappeared altogether; secondly, there were shifts of usage in the designation of the five variable svara, particularly in the use of the term śuddha (see Table 5b).

In the treatise Naghmāt-i āsafi, whose author, Muhammad Reza, claimed he was associated with Lucknow musicians at the court of Nawab Āsaf-ud-daula (reigned 1775–97), only sa, pa and ma are regularly referred to as śuddha (Table 5b). The higher variety of ga is twice referred to in passing as śuddha, but normally the higher ga is called tīvra, and the lower variety komal. The svara ri, dha and ni are always called either tīvra or komal (ri is once called ati-komal), never śuddha. The higher ma is usually called tīvratama, as in the Sangīta-pārijāta. It is also included in lists of tīvra svara, and is once or twice called tīvratara. It is clear from the frequent use of the expression ‘both ma ’ for rāgas such as Lalit, however, that the author was thinking in terms of only two pitch positions for ma. The lower ma is usually called śuddha, but it is also included in lists of komal svara. Only one of the Sangīta-pārijāta's alternative names for equivalent pitches survives: [ati ]-tīvratama ga is equated with komal ma in the description of the rāga Sārang.

The traditional distinction between a set of seven ‘pure’ (śuddha) svara and some number of ‘modified’ (vikrta) svara has effectively disappeared in the Nāghmāt-i āsafi. The word śuddha is used mainly to designate the invariant system tonic sa and its unalterable 5th pa. Each of the remaining scale degrees has two equally valid pitch positions. This is more clearly shown in the terminology used for the music examples in the chapter on rāga of the Rajasthani treatise Sangīt-sār, compiled by Pratāp Singh in about 1800. The fixed sa and pa are aslī (a colloquial Perso-Arabic synonym for śuddha). Each of the five variable svara must be either utarī (‘lowered’) or carhī (‘raised’), a notion quite different from that of ‘pure’ as opposed to ‘modified’ (see ex.5b). There is no basic scale of seven from which others deviate; rather, there is a general scale of 12, from which seven are chosen with certain restrictions.

In modern times the notion of seven śuddha svara has been revived. However, the śuddha svara are now the degrees of the major scale; vikrta svara are komal re, ga, dha and ni, and tīvra ma (Table 5b). The pre-modern opposition of komal and tīvra is still in occasional use, however, and there is no reason either in theory or in practice for the major scale to be considered more ‘pure’ (śuddha) than any other.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 1: Theory and practice of classical music., Tonal systems.

(iii) Scale-types in modern theory.

Just as the grāma system of the Nātyaśāstra was the basis of the mūrcchanās, so the modern tonal systems generate a number of derived scale-types. Each scale-type is a selection of seven svara from the general scale of 12 pitch positions (svarasthāna). A given scale-type may be common to several rāgas, so scale-types are an aspect of the general tonal system.

The south Indian system of 72 scale-types (melakarta or mela) is produced by a systematic permutation of the variable svara positions shown in Table 3c. The invariable sa and pa are common to all 72. The octave is divided into two tetrachords, sa –ma and pa –sa. Within each tetrachord the variable svara – ri and ga or dha and ni – are systematically rotated through all possible combinations, as shown in Table 7. Scale-types 1–36 are formed by combining each of the six lower tetrachords, having śuddha ma (F) as the fourth degree, with each of the upper tetrachords in turn. By substituting prati ma (F) for the natural fourth degree, a second, otherwise identical set of 36 scale-types is formed, nos.37–72. This system includes scale-types with augmented seconds and scale-types with consecutive semitones.

When Venkatamakhin outlined the scheme of 72 melakarta in the Caturdandī-prakāśikā he gave names only to those 19 scale-types that were needed for rāgas in use in 17th-century Thanjavur. He named each of these scale-types after the most prominent rāga belonging to it. Subsequently, the remaining scale-types have also been named, and there are now rāgas and compositions in every scale-type. Some have acquired important constituent rāgas as composers and performers have found musically effective ways of exploiting the scale. Nevertheless, there are still no more than a couple of dozen scale-types of real musical significance, having either a large number of constituent rāgas (such as scale-type 28) or one important rāga (such as Nāta rāga from scale-type 36).

The melakarta system has become endowed with a complex nomenclature intended to render it memorable. Each of the 12 lower tetrachords defines a set or ‘circle’ (cakra) of six scales, each consisting of combinations of the lower tetrachord with six different upper tetrachords. Each set has a name denoting its serial number in the system (thus ‘Moon’ is one, ‘Eye’ is two, ‘Veda’ is four etc.). Each individual scale-type also has a name, sometimes derived from that of a prominent rāga belonging to it. The name also bears a two-syllable prefix that encodes in reverse the serial number of the scale-type (thus scale-type 28 is Hari-kāmbhojī, where ‘ri’ is two and ‘ha’ is eight).

An alternative term for scale-type, thāta, first appears in the southern Rāga-vibodha of Somanātha (1609), but it has subsequently been adopted in place of melakarta in the Hindustani tradition. It was used in the 19th century by sitār players to denote the ‘setting’ or positioning of the movable frets on the neck of a sitār necessary to produce the intervals required by particular rāgas. Six thāt are listed by Day (1891), who states that they ‘have no names, but are usually known from the rāgas that are commonly played upon them’. Because the sitār has more than seven frets to the octave, each of these settings can be used to produce more than one heptatonic scale-type, or rāgas that require more than seven pitch positions. Subsequently the term thāt was adopted by V.N. Bhatkhande for his system of ten heptatonic scale-types, which he named after prominent Hindustani rāgas (Table 8). This system lacks the logical rigour of the Karnatak melakarta system, but it does not include any scale-types that are not in common use. As shown in Table 8, it is an interrupted sequence of six diatonic scales with progressively more ‘flats’ (nos.1–3 and 7–9), plus four scale-types with augmented seconds (nos.4–6 and 10). The ordering is based on what Bhatkhande deemed significant degree relationships: the natural second, third and sixth in 1–3, the flattened second with natural third and seventh in 4–6, the flattened third and seventh in 7–9, and Todī thāt in a class by itself.

Despite their pragmatic convenience for classifying rāgas, the melakarta and thāt systems suffer from a number of limitations, as Hindustani musicians in particular are wont to point out. Pentatonic or hexatonic rāgas can only be allocated to heptatonic scale-types on the sometimes arbitrary assumption that particular pitches are omitted. The scale-types make no allowances for variations in intonation of the svara, they separate into different categories rāgas that are closely related by melodic movement (see §2(iii) below), and they bring together rāgas that have no melodic features in common beyond their basic pitches.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 1: Theory and practice of classical music., Tonal systems.

(iv) The 22 śruti in modern theory.

The ‘microtonal scale’ of Indian classical music has attracted much attention both in South Asia and internationally, particularly since the discovery and publication of chapter 28 of the Nātyaśāstra. It has been claimed that the śruti are evidence for the existence of complex mathematical acoustics in ancient India, or that they are evidence of nearly superhuman pitch discrimination and control on the part of performers. What can and cannot be inferred about the 22 śruti in the ancient period was made plain by Bhandarkar in 1912. The proposition of an unusually consistent microtonal control, advanced by Daniélou (1954) and others, has been experimentally refuted by Jairazbhoy (1963) and others. It is true that the numerous inflections of svara in musical contexts cannot be described fully in terms of a system of 12 pitch positions. But to say that particular shadings of pitch are essential in a particular musical context is not to say that those shadings are best described in terms of a microtonal scale.

Modern South Asian uses of the 22 śruti have usually built from the existing 12-position general scale and the system tonic. The fixed svara sa and pa provide two pitch positions and the five variable svara, each in two positions (komal and tīvra), provide ten more. Then the five komal svara are given five lower variants called ati-komal, the five tīvra svara five higher (ati-tīvra) variants. This generation of a scheme of 22 has nothing to do with either the Nātyaśāstra or Sangīta-ratnākara, but it is neat and suggestive.

Sometimes precise frequencies are proposed, based on a Pythagorean and a just intonation for each pitch position other than sa and pa. However, this supposed precision not only disregards the flexible realities of intonations but in seeking to explain ancient schemes in modern terms fails to account for them.

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music.

2. Rāga.

(i) The concept.

(ii) Historical development of rāga systems.

(iii) Rāga in Hindustani music.

(iv) Rāga in Karnatak music.

(v) Hindustani and Karnatak rāgas.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 2: Theory and practice of classical music., Rāga.

(i) The concept.

(a) Rāga as melody type.

The central element of South Asian classical music is rāga. A rāga is not a tune, nor is it a ‘modal’ scale, but rather a continuum with scale and tune as its extremes (see Mode, §V, 3). Many rāgas can share the same intervallic structure, that is, the same scale-type (mela, thāt); at the same time, any number of compositions or improvisations can be in the same rāga.

A rāga can be described with emphasis on both ‘scale’ and ‘tune’ aspects. From the scale side, individual scale degrees may be assigned specific modal functions. The predominant degree was called amśa in traditional śāstra. It is called vādī in modern Hindustani music (along with its co-predominant samvādī; see §1(i) above), and in Karnatak music it is called jīva-svara (‘life degree’). Initial and final degrees in traditional śāstra were called graha (‘taking’) and nyāsa (‘settling’). These terms relate to a period when there was no system tonic, and the predominant and final of a rāga could be different svara. With the transposition of all rāgas to a common system tonic (sa: see §1(ii)(c) above) by the 16th century, the three functions of predominant, initial and final tended to become identified with the system tonic. In some modern texts (e.g. Thakur’s Sangītāñjali) the terms graha, nyāsa and amśa have been revived to denote respectively phrase beginnings, phrase endings and the predominant degrees in the rāga as a whole.

A rāga can also be described by its melodic features, that is, in terms of successions of scale degrees. The nearest to a scalar description is the āroh-avaroh, the ascent–descent pattern. The āroh-avaroh of a rāga can show which scale degrees never appear and where any regularly occurring turns in the line occur. More elaborate descriptive samples of characteristic melodic configuration are called calan in Hindustani music and sañcāra in Karnatak music. In Karnatak music a motif especially characteristic for a rāga is called rāga-chāya-sañcāra (‘rāga-image-phrase’) or, in Tamil, pitippu (‘catch’). In Hindustani music such a motif is called a pakad (also ‘catch’) for the rāga or, in a more Sanskritized fashion, its mukhyānga (‘chief part’) or the rāgānga (‘part [that shows the] rāga’).

The number of rāgas in practical use both in Hindustani and Karnatak music is of the order of a couple of hundred, so that every rāga is itself an element in a larger system. The recognizability of a rāga may turn on one or more of a number of heterogeneous factors of different orders of abstraction: these include intervallic structure (scale-type), prominent and transitory pitches, a particular way of ornamenting one or more scale degrees, characteristic motifs, characteristic tessitura or pace etc. Such factors in turn are perceived in terms of contrasting possibilities: two rāgas may have the same intervallic structure but different predominant notes or characteristic motifs; another two rāgas may share melodic configurations but differ in intervallic structure. Sometimes a whole group of rāgas shares some distinctive common melodic material, while at the same time each individual rāga has its own distinguishing features.

(b) Non-structural aspects.

The word rāga itself points to the importance of non-structural aspects of the concept. It derives from the Sanskrit root rañj, ‘to be coloured, to redden’, hence ‘to be affected, moved, charmed, delighted’. As a noun, rāga is that quality of an object that arouses feeling or delight, and in early literature it refers in a non-technical sense to the beauty of a song, its ‘passion’. Only from Matanga (8th–9th century) onwards is it used in a technical sense to denote a melodic construct or melody-type. The aesthetic impact of such a melody-type, its ability to delight the hearer, is attributed to the particular notes and melodic movements that render it distinct from all other melody-types. Thus the term implies the prime importance of aesthetic effect, but this is considered to be inseparable from melodic individuality.

Aesthetic and extra-musical aspects of rāga have been, and remain, profoundly important in Indian culture. They have included supernatural powers over the physical universe and associations with particular divinities, human characters, seasons and times of day. The earliest associations were with drama, since music played a central part in ancient Indian theatre. In the Brhad-deśī (see §II, 2(i)(a) above) certain rāgas were prescribed to introduce particular sections of a drama or particular characters, scenes, situations and rasa (aesthetic flavour; see §7 below). When the theory and practice of music became gradually divorced from drama, more esoteric associations were put forward. These included the association of each rāga with a presiding deity (13th century, Sangīta-ratnākara), leading to its further identification as a deity, male or female (14th century, Kalpasūtra). Consequently, many rāgas bear the names of deities and are still sometimes believed to present themselves as spirits or jinns to the musician when correctly performed. From the 16th century, however, a secularization of this concept occurred, especially at the Mughal and Rājput courts, whereby rāgas were associated with the literary typology of erotic heroes and heroines (nāyaka and nāyikā) rather than with deities. Male rāgas and female rāginī were accordingly depicted as persons or tableaux in Sanskrit verses (rāga-dhyāna) and sets of miniature paintings (rāga-mālā; see §II, 3(iii) above).

The belief that rāgas can exercise power over the physical world, as well as or instead of the aesthetic one, is perhaps an extension of their earlier identification as divinities. The power of rāga Dīpak to produce fire and of Malhār to produce rain, for example, are recurrent themes in the mythology of Indian music. Some musicians attribute therapeutic properties to rāgas, each being beneficial for specific physiological or mental ailments. In the absence of any universally recognized, authoritative definition of the rāgas, the ability to produce magical or therapeutic effects is sometimes claimed by or attributed to musicians as a means of confirming the validity of their tradition.

The association of rāgas with particular times of day or seasons of the year is still particularly strong in Hindustani music. Each rāga is attributed to one of the eight pahar or divisions of the day and night, and/or to one of the six seasons (rtu), and will normally be performed at or near its proper time and in the correct sequence relative to other rāgas. This association may derive from temple music, where rāgas are sung to accompany the cycle of daily rituals and seasonal festivals.

While it is often assumed that the aesthetic and other associations attributed to rāgas are dependent on the structural characteristics by which the rāgas are defined, the link between the two realms remains elusive. A number of inconclusive attempts have been made to verify traditional rāga associations experimentally, for instance by playing samples of various rāgas to subjects and eliciting verbal responses (e.g. Deva, 1981). Bhatkhande had some success in linking the performance times of Hindustani rāgas with their scale-types and the position of the vādī, but anomalies remain. The fact that many rāgas have changed in structure over the centuries but have retained earlier time-associations suggests that structural and non-structural aspects are not directly interdependent. Rather, each rāga has aesthetic and extra-musical associations that are triggered in the knowledgeable listener's mind by its correct rendition according to the current concept of its structure.

(c) Origins, number and change.

Rāgas are traditionally considered to be apaurusa, ‘non-human’, in origin. Mythology attributes them, for example, to the five heads of Śiva, the patron deity of music, and his consort Pārvatī, or to the songs sung in praise of Krsna by his 16,000 milkmaid consorts (gopī). Sources from the Brhad-deśī onwards attribute the origin of the rāgas to the earlier system of jāti (themselves created by Brahma) by processes of variation and mixture. However, the names of many early rāgas imply an origin in regional (deśī) musics, including the musics of ‘tribal’ peoples (e.g. Todī, Śabarī) and foreign invaders (e.g. Śaka, Turuska-(‘Turkish-’)gauda). Many rāga names still suggest regional or ethnic origins, even (since the Muslim period) in areas outside India (e.g. Yaman, Hijāz).

The number of rāgas in existence cannot be defined exactly. A traditional number is 36, deriving from the medieval rāga-rāginī systems, but the actual number has probably always been greater. As an example, 260 were classified by the 13th-century theorist Śārngadeva. For Hindustani music, Bhatkhande gives 186 in his Kramik pustak-mālikā (1953–5), but in that tradition a performing musician will have a working repertory of approximately 40 or 50 rāgas. Kaufmann lists some 2000 Karnatak rāgas (1976), compiled from various sources, but again the working repertory of an individual musician would be considerably less than this.

Uncertainty as to the total number of rāgas is due partly to the absence of any single authoritative source, written or oral, and partly to changes in the repertory as new rāgas are introduced and old ones forgotten. The ideology of rāga exercises a check on the creation of new rāgas, however, since they are considered to be of divine rather than human origin and, according to some, all viable rāgas exist already. The invention (or discovery) of certain rāgas is attributed to or claimed by particular musicians, and in the south, rāgas have been created to exploit all the 72 scalar possibilities of the melakarta system (of which only 19 were in use in the 17th century). But many ‘new’ rāgas are in fact combinations of elements from existing ones. Another method of introducing novelty without presuming on divine prerogative is to import Karnatak rāgas or scale-types into Hindustani music, or vice versa (see §(v) below). In the north, each gharānā has a number of ‘secret’ (acchop) rāgas that, although claimed to be old, are in effect new when first revealed in public (Neuman, 1980).

Out of respect for the divine origins of rāga, many musicians also hold that individual rāgas are not susceptible to change but are still performed (by those who know them correctly) in their original forms. Documentary evidence shows that although some significant continuities can still be traced between modern and earlier rāga forms, profound changes have occurred. Many rāgas have changed their scale-type or have generated variants in different scale-types, as the difference in scale-type between many similarly named Hindustani and Karnatak rāgas suggests. Such changes have been attributed in part to the combination of attributes from different rāgas (Powers, 1970) and in part to the inherent asymmetry of musical scales, which may have induced musicians to make compensatory adjustments in scale-type, melodic movement, intonation, ornamentation etc. (Jairazbhoy, 1971).

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 2: Theory and practice of classical music., Rāga.

(ii) Historical development of rāga systems.

The term rāga occurs in the Nātyaśāstra only in its non-technical sense of ‘passion’. The term for melody-type or modal category in that source is jāti, ‘class’. A jāti was distinguished from the grāma pitch-collections and the mūrcchanā scales on which it was based (see §1(ii)(a) above) by the attribution of special functions to particular svara. These functions included graha, the initial note; amśa, the predominant note; nyāsa, the final note; and apanyāsa, a note or notes on which intermediate cadences might fall. In addition, particular svara might be frequent (bahutva) or infrequent (alpatva), and melodic movements between certain svara were specified. The primary or ‘pure’ (śuddha) form of each jāti was heptatonic, and the same svara served as both predominant and final. However, each jāti also admitted a number of variants (vikrta), in which specified svara other than the final could serve as predominant, and one or two specified svara might be omitted. The jāti was thus a modal category under which a number of related melody-types, not individually named or identified, might be classified.

Some clue as to the origins of the jāti, and their relationship with later modal systems, may be provided by their names. The seven ‘note-born’ (svara-jā) jāti, considered to form a primary set, are each named after the svara that is their final (e.g. Sādjī, with sadja as final). They form a sub-system in which scale-type, as defined by the final, is the primary criterion of classification. The remaining 11 ‘mixed’ (samsargajā) jāti are explained as combinations of two or more primary jāti. Since several of the mixed jāti have the same final, scale-type is no longer the sole criterion of classification, and these jāti begin to resemble melody-types. Some of their names hint at regional origin (thus Sadjodīcyavā, ‘northern Sadja’ etc.).

A number of sources from the middle of the first millennium ce, including a passage in the Chinese Sui History referring to the late 6th century and the Kudumiyāmalai inscription in south India dating from the 7th or 8th century, refer to a different set of seven melody-types, to which the term grāma-rāga became attached. By the time of Matanga (8th–9th century) these formed the basis of an extended repertory of 32 grāma-rāga together with numerous variants called ‘dialects’ (bhāsā). These early rāgas are defined using terms borrowed from the jāti system (amśa, nyāsa etc.), but the alternatives inherent in the jāti are not allowed. Each rāga comprises a specific and unique combination of structural characteristics, to which its unique aesthetic effect is attributed. A number of the grāma-rāga bear names suggesting an origin in northern regions of the subcontinent, while the bhāsā include names referring to peoples and places from both the north and the south (Widdess, 1993). The basis of classification was now performance style (gīti); as with the mixed jāti, scale-type was not a criterion.

By the 12th century the old grāma-rāga were no longer used in concert music, though they continued to be described and illustrated with notated examples in theoretical works. The current repertory became known as the deśī (‘provincial’) rāgas, of which some were based on earlier grāma-rāga or bhāsā, some were hybrid forms, and some originated in local traditions. The Sangīta-ratnākara (13th century) classifies rāgas according to their place in a quasi-genealogical paradigm: grāma giving rise to jāti, giving rise to grāma-rāga, giving rise to bhāsā and deśī-rāga. But the earlier generations of this paradigm were abandoned by most later authors, since they had long ceased to be relevant in practice. The Sangīta-makaranda (attributed to Nārada, ?14th century) classifies the rāgas according to various criteria: performance time (morning, midday or night), number of pitches (five, six or seven), threefold gender (male, female or neuter), twofold gender (eight male rāgas with three ‘wives’ each) and degree of ornamentation (much, moderate or none, a throw-back to the gīti classification of grāma-rāga). Note that scale-type is not treated as a basis for rāga classification at this period.

Various male-female rāga systems (mata) were current in different regions of north India during the 16th to 18th centuries, and some were popular with painters of rāga-mālā (see §II, 3(iii) above). A common pattern comprised six male rāgas each with five female rāginī, totalling 36, to which sons (putra) could be added. There is little evidence that these systems were based on any scalar similarity between a rāga and its dependants.

Scale-type as an aspect of rāga definition and classification was introduced by Rāmāmātya (c1550) and became the standard method of classification in the south. However, Rāmāmātya also classified rāgas according to their potential for melodic development in ālāpa and prabandha compositions. The Caturdandī-prakāśikā of Venkatamakhin (17th century) expanded the number of theoretical scale-types to 72, but only 19 were required for classifying the rāgas then current. In later Karnatak music scale-type has become the overriding criterion of classification, such that the principal rāga in each scale-type is called the ‘parent’ (janaka) and the others its ‘children’ (janya), and rāgas have been developed in all the 72 scale-types of Venkatamakhin's system.

From the 16th century onwards some Hindustani treatises advocated scalar definition and classification on the model of the southern scale-type system, while others clung to rāga-rāginī typology (see §II, 3(iv) above). The latter is now obsolete, but Hindustani musicians vary in their attitude to scalar classification, some accepting Bhatkhande's thāt system, others not. An alternative northern approach to typology associates rāgas in groups or ‘rāga-families’ (rāg-kul), where each group comprises variant or related rāgas characterized by shared melodic features but not necessarily a shared scale. The continuing importance of motivic relationships between rāgas has been discussed in historical and contemporary contexts by Powers (1970).

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 2: Theory and practice of classical music., Rāga.

(iii) Rāga in Hindustani music.

(a) Development of rāga theory.

Theoretical writing on rāga in Hindustani music has addressed both the identification and analysis of the characteristic features of individual rāgas and the elucidation of structural principles that underlie the rāga system as a whole. The latter endeavour tends to take scalar structure as its starting-point, while the former is more concerned with melodic motifs and emphases, registers, ornamentation and ‘intonation’ in the broadest sense.

The most influential formulation of contemporary Hindustani rāga theory is that of V.N. Bhatkhande. He postulated a number of structural characteristics that he claimed were common to most Hindustani rāgas: each rāga employs at least five of the seven svara; the svara ma or pa is always present, in addition to the system tonic sa; two pitch positions of the same svara, e.g. śuddha and tīvra ma, may not occur consecutively; the vādī is the most important svara of the rāga, supported by a secondary important svara, the samvādī, normally a consonant 4th or 5th distant; the vādī is located in the upper tetrachord (uttarāng) in morning rāgas, the lower tetrachord (pūrvāng) in evening rāgas.

There are exceptions to all these ‘rules’, some of which Bhatkhande acknowledged. In particular, the identification of one svara in each rāga as vādī is controversial. In many rāgas there are more notes than one that could be regarded as vādī, and it follows that the connection between the performance time of a rāga and the position of vādī, though it often holds good, is also open to question. Bhatkhande's concept of vādī in fact fuses two concepts from ancient theory, consonance (samvāda) and predominant function (amśa).

Bhatkhande reduced the scalar structures of Hindustani rāgas to ten thāt (see §1(iii) above) and proceeded on this basis to classify and describe the individual rāgas. His verbal descriptions are brief and limited to a few salient features: the thāt, the number of degrees taken in ascent and descent (for which he revived the ancient term jāti in a new sense), the vādī and samvādī, characteristic ornaments or pitch sequences, the appropriate time of performance, the aesthetic ethos (rasa) etc. These and similar definitions by other authors have become the stock-in-trade of institutional musical pedagogy. However, Bhatkhande was careful to acknowledge variant interpretations that he had encountered in oral tradition. His definitions are furthermore extensively illustrated with examples in notation. He himself composed simple outlines showing the ascending and descending lines within an octave (āroh-avaroh), more elaborate sequences of phrases (svar-vistār) such as might be performed in an ālāp, and short didactic compositions intended to embody the essential features of the rāga (laksan-gīt). Bhatkhande also presented numerous vocal compositions in each rāga, representing the genres dhrupad, dhamār, khayāl, thumrī, tarānā etc. (see §5(iii) below). These compositions, which fill the pages of his six-volume compilation Kramik pustak-mālikā (1953–5), were taken down from a number of eminent musicians representing different branches of the oral tradition. Although the source of individual compositions is not given, differences in detail can be seen between the compositions in some rāgas that reflect the diversity of the oral tradition and the absence of any single authoritative version. This anthology, as a record of the vocal repertory current in the first half of the 20th century and as material for analysis of the Hindustani rāga system, is an unparalleled achievement.

Drawing on Bhatkhande's pioneering work, N.A. Jairazbhoy (1971, 1972) developed a holistic analysis of the relationship between the surface characteristics of individual rāgas and the underlying structure of the scales that they employ. He analysed the tonal relationships within each basic scale in terms of consonance or dissonance with the drone, and parallel interval-sets in disjunct and conjunct tetrachords (ascending sa –ma, pa –sa and descending sa –pa, pa –re respectively). The melodic characteristics of individual rāgas and groups of rāgas, including alternative notes, staggered scales, oblique melodic movement, the position of vādī and samvādī, compass and exceptional intonation, were interpreted as strategies for exploiting and concealing the symmetries and asymmetries of their underlying scales. The same hypothesis has been used to explain changes in the scale structure of rāgas since the 16th century, but the focus of Jairazbhoy's work is on system-wide musical and historical processes rather than individual rāgas.

One of Bhatkhande's principal critics, the singer and educationist Omkarnath Thakur, drew attention to inconsistencies and arbitrariness in Bhatkhande's thāt system, which Thakur regarded as unnecessary and misleading. He favoured a classification of rāgas into groups based on melodic characteristics rather than scales, and sought to link these groups with the jāti system of the Nātyaśāstra. But the main achievement of his six-volume textbook Sangītāñjali was his unprecedentedly detailed analysis of performance practice in individual rāgas, and of the subtle but crucial distinctions to be observed between rāgas.

Thakur's exceptional insight into rāga relationships provided a basis for several of H.S. Powers's publications, in which rāga is treated as a melodic form (svarūp) rather than as a scale-based construct. Like Jairazbhoy, Powers (1970) advances historical evidence for his hypothesis, arguing that similarly named rāgas in Hindustani and Karnatak music differ in scale owing to historical divergence but embody similar melodic features, such as emphasized pitches, characteristic progressions, motifs, formulae, registers and ornaments. He also analysed the structural meanings invested in melodic formulae that identify particular rāgas or groups of rāgas, drawing on linguistic theory as well as Thakur's concept of rāga relationships (1976). A comparative evaluation of Bhatkhande's and Thakur's approaches to rāga theory was published in 1992.

(b) Hindustani rāgas in practice.

The rāga Darbārī Kānadā illustrates many of the features of Hindustani rāga theory and practice. Its importance in the current repertory, its especially clear surface features and underlying structure and its close links with other rāgas make it a classic case. The underlying scale is one in which intervallic parallelism exists between the conjunct descending tetrachords c–b–a–g and g–f–e–d (the tonic is represented by convention as c).

While this structure is common to several rāgas, the parallelism is particularly emphasized in Darbārī Kānadā. It is reflected, for example, in Bhatkhande's identification of d and g, at the bases of the parallel tetrachords, as vādī and samvādī respectively. Others regard a and e, which are also important in the rāga, as vādī and samvādī. Both these notes are treated with a wide, slow oscillation that is distinctive for the rāga, but they can also both be omitted in certain contexts. The reason for the oscillation may be both structural and aesthetic. A is conspicuously not consonant with the prominent pitch d, and Jairazbhoy (1971) suggests that the wide oscillation implies an a or compensates for its absence. At the same time the gravity of these oscillations contributes to the serious (gambhīra) ethos of the rāga, which is also reflected in a slow pace and a concentration on the lower registers.

Fig.4 shows in outline the principal routes by which melodies in this rāga may ascend and descend from the lower tonic to the upper octave and back (the tonic, sa, is notated by convention as c). First, the simplest possible octave ascent-descent (āroh-avaroh) is shown and the underlying scalar parallelism indicated. The ascent and descent are then set out separately and in more detail. The ascending line divides into parallel segments, a₁ and a₂. The first ascends directly from the tonic to f, from which point it can return to d (skipping the e), or continue upwards to g. In the upper segment (a₂) the melody ascends in like manner from f to c' (or g). The oscillation on e is echoed by that on a. There is also a lesser oscillation on b and a tendency to sharpen this note when it functions as a leading-note to the upper tonic. This sharpening may also be applied to the corresponding degree in the lower segment, f, when it leads to g.

In contrast to the relatively direct ascent, the descending line is highly convoluted (vakra). Again there are two parallel segments, indicated as d₁ and d₂. D₁ features the oblique movement c'–a–b–g with the characteristic Darbārī oscillation again on a; the parallel movement in the lower segment is g–e–f–d. An alternative in this segment is shown at d₃ (in fig.4b), where the movement e–f is replaced by the corresponding interval of the upper tetrachord, a–b, transposed into the octave below (mandra). The beginning of the descent in d₁ is often embellished as shown at y₁. However, the resulting line b–c'–d'–a cannot be reproduced exactly in the lower segment without introducing an a that is foreign to the rāga (thus f–g–a–e). Instead, the configuration in y₂ is f–g–b–e, omitting the a altogether. A tendency to omit this note and its counterpart e is also reflected in the alternative ascending configurations shown at a₃ and a₄.

The octave ascent-descent pattern of a rāga constitutes a basic model that is realized in melody in an infinite variety of ways. Ex.1 shows the beginning of a vocal ālāp (see §3 (ii)(a) and (b) below) in rāga Darbārī Kānadā. It shows a first unfolding of the rāga, which in accordance with the serious ethos of this rāga takes place in the lowest octave of the vocal range (mandra), working downwards from the middle to the lower tonic. The descending configurations are therefore heard first in this example. Ascending phrases then follow, returning to the starting-point. The identity of Darbārī Kānadā is established by the phrase y₁, and confirmed shortly afterwards by d₁. The remaining descending and ascending configurations set out in fig.4 appear in due course. In both descent and ascent the arrival at the fifth (pa, g) is an important resting-point, marking the division between segments d₁ and d₂, a₁ and a₂. In the descending phase this resting-point is delayed by returning from a to c several times. Similarly the conclusion of the ascending phase at the end of the example is extended by repeated delays of the final return to the tonic. The exposition of any rāga in the same style and register could follow a similar course.

Ex.2 shows the same rāga rendered as a slow khayāl (see §5(iii) below) in the 12-beat time-cycle Ektāl. As in all compositions, the rāga is articulated in two contrasting registers, lower and higher, in the two sections of the melody, sthāyī and antarā respectively. Appropriately for this rāga, the tessitura of the first section is very low, emphasizing the strong pitch d and its consonant G in the lower (mandra) register, as well as the tonic and the characteristically oscillated a. At the end of this section the oscillated e is introduced for the first time. The second section emphasizes the same material an octave higher, rising to the upper tonic and peaking on d above that. It covers the whole of the middle octave in descent and ascent before returning to the low register of the sthāyī. The characteristic Darbārī flavour is at its richest in the passages ‘rī māī’ in the sthāyī (cf fig.4, y₁/d₁) and ‘tāke rośana’ in the antarā (y₂/d₂), where the distinctive pitch-sequences of the rāga are enhanced by the introductory flourish (tān) using heavy shakes (gamak), the slow oscillation of e and a, and the sliding fall b–g or f–d. The final return to the register of the sthāyī at ‘aura’ (d₁, d₂) epitomizes the descending line of the rāga. The alternative form of ascent, in which e and a are omitted (a₃, a₄), appears in the low register at ‘pīra mero’ of the sthāyī, where it prepares a high point at the introduction of e at ‘saco’. The same ascent in the antarā register at ‘cahu’ prepares the subsequent fall back to a and e in ‘aura’. A simpler example of the same sthāyī –antarā structure in this rāga is shown in ex.3a.

Darbārī is related to a number of other rāgas belonging to the Kānadā group. Adānā is almost identical to Darbārī in terms of its pitch material, except that a is more often omitted. What chiefly distinguishes it, as can be seen in ex.4a, is its rapid tempo and predominantly high register, as opposed to the slow tempo and low register of Darbārī. Other members of the same group differ in tonal material, differences that are interpreted by Jairazbhoy in terms of the underlying scale (fig.5). The substitution of a in Darbārī and Adānā for a in Sughrāī and Śahānā eliminates a tritone relationship between a and e, which is addressed in Sūhā and Śahānā by oblique movement and in Nāyakī Kānadā by omitting a altogether. A tendency to omit both a and e may be noted in all these rāgas. Powers's analysis of the same group (1981) stresses the motivic similarities that establish their relationship. Thus the phrase e–f–d is common to all and is the Kānadā ang (see below) of the Kānadā group of rāgas (see Mode, §V, 3, ex.37). The descending intervals b –g and f–d are also common to all and are shared with another group of rāgas, the pentatonic Sārangs; hence it is said that the Kānadās have the tinge or ‘reflection’ (chāyā) of Sārang.

Like the Kānadās, the Sārang family includes rāgas with different scale-types (fig.6), but all are pentatonic (1 2 4 5 7), all are midday rāgas, and all have the characteristic descending motif f–d–(c–d)–B–c. The use of both sevenths and both fourths can be understood in the light of leading-note functions and tetrachordal balance. Thus the tendency in all Sārangs to sharpen b in ascent to c' is transferred in Śuddh Sārang to f in parallel contexts.

A rāga can be viewed in terms of individual pitches and scale-type or in terms of melodic motifs and other sequences of pitch. The term ang (‘limb’) is used in both senses. It can mean a tetra- or pentachordal segment of a scale, as in Bhatkhande's usage, or a melodic phrase, as in mukhyānga or rāgānga (the identifying phrase of a rāga). Similarly pūrvāng and uttarāng (literally ‘prior’, and ‘consequent’ or ‘higher’ ang) can mean the tetrachords sa –ma and pa –sa respectively, or they can refer to more loosely defined, overlapping pitch-areas within which the characteristic phrases of the rāga evolve. The concept of pūrvāng and uttarāng in the latter sense is illustrated in exx.3–5.

In the Pūriyā compositions (exx.3b, 4b and 5) the opening phrase of the sthāyī establishes the characteristic thematic configurations based on the motifs f–e–d–c and B–d–c, in the pūrvāng range B–f (extended to the next available note in each direction, a), and emphasizing the vādī -samvādī pair B and e. In ex.2 the continuation of the sthāyī expands one degree upwards to b. In exx.3b and 4b the extension is downwards one degree to f. The interval f–a functions as a single degree step because Pūriyā has no g. Thematically the pūrvāng also includes the motifs B–d–e and its usual variant B–d–f–e; f–a–e–f–e; and at its highest and lowest points e–f–a–b and f–a–b. In the extension to the upper d' at the end of the third measure of ex.4(b), the upper c' is scrupulously avoided (although c is an important note in Pūriyā); this is so that uttarāng material is not anticipated.

The antarā sections of the Pūriyā examples establish the uttarāng material: the rising f–a–b–c' (the strong upper c' is part of the rāga as well as a requirement of the uttarāng in this case); the descending b–d'–b–(a)–f–a–e; and again the vādī -samvādī pair b and e are established as principal degrees. The antarā all conclude by turning back towards pūrvāng material in order to return smoothly to the beginning of the sthāyī. (For further discussion and examples see Mode, §V, 2(ii), exx.33 and 34.)

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 2: Theory and practice of classical music., Rāga.

(iv) Rāga in Karnatak music.

The features of Hindustani rāgas discussed above are also found in Karnatak rāgas, but they are often less obvious, either in analysis or to the ear. South Indian theory provides relatively little in the way of analytical terminology and categories for rāga, and close description is not really needed for teaching south Indian rāgas. In Hindustani music, fixed compositions play a relatively small role in concert performing practice, and detailed analysis and description of the rules and procedures of a rāga are extremely helpful to a student. In Karnatak music, conversely, compositions play a major role in the concert repertory, and a practising musician will be able to sing many compositions in each of the major rāgas. The materials of a rāga are informally induced from the repertory of pieces. Little need be given in the way of formal description beyond the ārohana -avarohana and a few characteristic phrases, with such descriptions acting as a reminder of what is already known from the compositions. Scale theory has monopolized the attention of south Indian musicians from the mid-19th century onwards, and musicians have been much more interested in working out and naming as rāgas the scale degree sequences used in Tyāgarāja's kīrtanam compositions, and in creating new (‘apūrva ’) rāgas, than in concentrating on the foundations of those that are traditionally important.

In addition, the underlying patterns within individual rāgas are often covered by the south Indian system of ornaments. More often than not the configuration of an ornamented degree in performance is a function of the place of the pitch class in the scale-type rather than of the svara in the rāga melodic type. For example, in both Hindustani and Karnatak Todī rāgas the principal degrees are e and a. Generally in Karnatak music a prolonged e in the region of f is sung as a wide shake from above (f–e). A prolonged a in the region of g is sung as a narrow shake from below (g–a). Although these two scale degrees occur in any number of parallel configurations in Karnatak Todī, their differences on the surface, because of their contrasting ornamentation, obscure those parallels. In Hindustani Todī, the pitches of both e and a are clearly intoned in their contexts, and their relationship is more audibly apparent.

Exx.6–9 are based on transcriptions from recordings of compositions in three south Indian rāgas all using the same scale-type, mela no.28 (c d e f g a b). Only the basic melodies are shown; ex.6 in particular has a long succession of variations on the first line, which have been omitted here. (For the ornament signs see §3(i)(b) below and ex.10.)

Exx.6 and 7 are both in rāga Nāta-kurañjī. Much of the basic pūrvāng material of the rāga is heard in the opening sections of the compositions, called pallavi (corresponding to the sthāyī of Hindustani compositions). The syllables ‘manasu-visaya nata-vidulak’ o-’ in ex.6 and ‘sura-vinutam candra-tārā sutam bu-’ in ex.7 are set to virtually the same music. Descent in the pūrvāng is illustrated in ‘ō-manasa’ in ex.6 and ‘budham āśrayāmi’ in ex.7. Uttarāng material establishing the upper tonic occurs in the two anupallavi (contrasting sections corresponding to Hindustani antarā), set to the words ‘(tana talup’) okar’intiki nīgi’ in ex.6 and ‘(budha) janair veditam/bhūsurair moditam’ in ex.7. A descent confined entirely within the uttarāng is illustrated in ‘tā gukkalu dōlu’ in ex.6. Full returning descent through uttarāng and pūrvāng together is seen in its simplest form (c–b–a–f–e–c) in ‘mahanīya sampa(dam)’ in ex.7; this is the form in which the Nāta-kurañjī avarohana (descent) is usually given.

The more complex and slower-paced form of descent is seen in ‘galgun’ ō manasa’ and ‘rītigād’ā?’ in ex.6. In these two phrases of the example the ‘actual’ performed configuration of the unit f–e–f–d–c is written out. Unlike most ornamentation, this phrase is characteristic for Nāta-kurañjī, and it also concretely illustrates several general features of south Indian rāgas. The unit f–e–f–d–c is often construed as e–f–g–e–d–c, because of its realization in performance with a heavy emphasis on the pitches pa and ga to the near suppression of ma; thus ‘ō manasa’ could be construed f–e–d–e–f–g–e–d–c instead of f–e–d–e–f–e–f–d–c. Such a construction, however, obscures the parallelism of the unit f–e–f–d with the unit b–a–b–g of the uttarānga, where the structural degrees and the realized sound are much more alike. The parallelism is further obscured by the fact that f–e–f–d normally goes down to c, while b–a–b–g, conversely, never descends to f but always leads to a; the setting of ‘o-sangitē’ shown in ex.6, where the parallel is really proved, occurs only at this transition into the next line.

Hence the parallelism of the units f–e–f–d and b–a–b–g, apparent in a reduced transcription, is by no means obvious to the ear in performance. In turn, these two units may be heard as extensions of the couples b–a and f–e of the simple descent form, as in ‘mahanīya sampa(dam)’ in ex.7. Much of the more complex structure of Nāta-kurañjī is ultimately reducible to elaborations on the obvious parallelism of b–a and f–e.

A similar instance may be seen in the pallavi and anupallavi of ex.8a: ‘gītārthamu san …’ and ‘sītā-pati cara …’. Although superficially their contours are quite different, especially in the rhyming syllables ‘gītā’ and ‘sītā’, the reduction shows that the underlying configurations are parallel, based on the descents f–e–d–(c) and b–a–g–(f) followed by the ascents d–f–g and g–b–c' respectively. The parallel descents f–e–d and b–a–g are particularly characteristic for Sūratī rāga, and may be even more obviously seen in ‘hari-hara’ beginning the caranam (ex.8b) and in ‘gītānandamu’ concluding the first line of the pallavi.

The rāga Sūratī is one of the few whose scale pattern is shared by another important Karnatak rāga. Both Sūratī (ex.8) and Kedāragaula (ex.9) are audava (pentatonic) in ascent: neither may proceed d–e–f–g and g–a––b–c', but only d–f–g and g–b–c' (in Sūratī g–b–a–b is also possible). Likewise, both are sampūrna (full) in the descent. Nonetheless, Sūratī and Kedāragaula are impossible to confuse; each has striking features in complete contrast with the other.

The jīva-svara (‘life svara ’) of Sūratī is b, characteristically approached from below, dwelt upon with gentle shakes, surrounded by turns, and returned downwards to g, as in ‘vātātmajuniki’ and ‘vara tyāgarāja’ of the concluding lines of anupallavi and caranam in ex.8. Descents move stepwise (structurally) between b and d, as in ‘gītānandamu’ (pallavi) and ‘hari-hara bhāskara’ (caranam). The rāga does not rise often into the upper octave, and it should not go below b. The notes a and e are not only absent in ascent but weak in descent, especially the e.

Kedāragaula has a much more bravura character than Sūratī. It rises often into the high register and stays there: ‘vēnul’ ella’ in the anupallavi of ex.9 is the characteristic phrase, establishing the jīva-svara ri, just as ‘vātātmajuniki’ establishes b in Sūratī (in ex.8). The d is elaborated by heavy shakes from e, and e in Kedāragaula is frequently brought out strongly (almost always as upper neighbour to d), as in ‘vēnul’ ella drsti tsutti’ and ‘gāvalan’ē’ of ex.9; in Sūratī the pitch e is normally nearly inaudible. Kedāragaula has parallel phrases in the descent, as in ‘vēyutsu mrōkutsu rāga’, but they are broader in range than those in Sūratī, and executed not with small and gentle tremolos but with sparkling odigimpu (for a written-out version of the anupallavi of ex.9, see ex.10(iv)(b)).

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 2: Theory and practice of classical music., Rāga.

(v) Hindustani and Karnatak rāgas.

Despite differences in repertory, theoretical concepts, performing practice, tonal production and general style, there are many kinds of relationship between individual rāgas in Hindustani and Karnatak music. Comparisons are usually made between rāgas with common scale-types – Karnatak Todī with Hindustani Bhairavī, Karnatak Bhairavī with Hindustani Āsāvarī (Jaunpurī) – rather than between rāgas with common names – Karnatak and Hindustani Todī, Karnatak and Hindustani Bhairavī. Certainly scale and name sometimes go together, as in the case of Hindustani Kalyān and Karnatak Kalyānī. A statistical study of these two is included in Chaitanya Deva's ‘Rāga rūpa’ (1967). Rāgas with the same name in both systems usually use different scale-types. However, although less obvious relationships between such rāgas can almost always be found, they differ from case to case and raise questions about parallel and divergent historical evolution.

Borrowings between the two musics have also taken place since they reached their modern forms. Muttusvāmi Dīksitar spent five years in Banāras, and a few of his kīrtanam compositions are set in Hindustani rāgas, although they are mostly sung in the Karnatak style. Later in the 19th century several rāgas used in thumrī, notably Hindustani Bhairavī, Kāfī and Khamāj, were taken up for ‘light’ music in south India and are sung in a conscious imitation of Hindustani musical style.

In the 20th century there was some borrowing in the other direction. Most of the importations from Karnatak music into Hindustani music were of rāgas characterized by scalar configurations not otherwise known in the Hindustani tradition, such as the popular pentatonic rāga Hamsadhvani (c d e g b c'), or the melakarta scale no.57, Simhendramadhyama (c d e f g a b c'). See also Mode, §V, 3.

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music.

3. Melodic elaboration.

(i) Ornamentation.

(ii) Improvisation.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 3: Theory and practice of classical music., Melodic elaboration.

(i) Ornamentation.

The word gamaka, used as a generic term, is usually rendered ‘ornament’, but the implication that something merely decorative has been added to something more basic is in part misleading. Gamaka, particularly in south India, is a general category covering all aspects of a svara in context, other than its theoretical pitch-position in the general scale. In Hindustani music the word uccār (‘pronunciation’) is very often used in the same sense. Either term designates aspects of attack, prolongation and release. The word gamaka is also used in a narrower and more specific sense to refer to a shake (see below).

The term alamkāra (lit. ‘that which makes sufficient’) means ‘ornament’ in all senses (jewellery, literary device etc.), but in music it has the specific meaning of a decorative motif that can be repeated sequentially up and down the scale, and hence a type of exercise. Alamkāra in this sense is an ingredient in the formation of tān in khayāl (see §5(iii)(b) below).

(a) Gamaka in the treatises.

The Nātyaśāstra does not distinguish between alamkāra and gamaka in the above senses but treats the latter as a case of the former. In the Sangīta-ratnākara (13th century) they have become fully distinct, with alamkāra defined as a sequence of svara, gamaka as ‘the shaking of a svara that is pleasing to the listener’ (chapter 3, pp.87–97). Śārngadeva classifies gamaka according to the speed of the shake (six varieties from fast to slow, plus one of variable speed), voice quality (three varieties), number of pitches the shake is applied to (one or many) and application in ascent or descent. A final ‘mixed’ category makes 15 varieties of gamaka in total. Other kinds of melodic embellishment, falling into neither the alamkāra nor the gamaka categories, are included in a now obsolete category sthāya, under which the Sangīta-ratnākara lists 96 terms referring to all aspects and styles of the production of sound in music.

Among the 16th- and 17th-century treatises, both the Sangīta-pārijāta (Ahobala Pandịta) and Rāga-vibodha (Somanātha) offer new gamaka systems. Like their scalar constructions, their descriptions of ornaments are based on the fretted vīnā, but the brief passage describing 19 instrumental gamaka in the Sangīta-pārijāta is of little interest compared with the extraordinary and original work of Somanātha in 1609. The fifth chapter of his Rāga-vibodha is meant to present the closest possible written equivalents for the pictorial representations of rāgas so fashionable in his time (see §II, 3(iii) above). To evoke the devatā-rūpa (‘icon form’), Somanātha had only to write a descriptive verse. To match the nāda-rūpa (‘sound form’), however, he had to write a notation that could really evoke musical sounds. From the endless varieties of gamaka and sthāya he selected 20, for which he devised notational symbols he called sanketa (‘agreement’ or ‘intimation’), to be appended to the svara letters; three more symbols indicated upper octave, lower octave and conclusions. He described the techniques for producing these vādana-bheda (‘playing varieties’) on the vīnā, and with their help the lengthy specimens of rāga configurations that he gave can be read.

(b) Gamaka in Karnatak music.

The Sangīta-ratnākara ’s 15 gamaka were vocal. Modern south Indian gamaka, conversely, are conceived instrumentally, like those of the Sangīta-pārijāta and Rāga-vibodha. Vocal gamaka are as far as possible described and illustrated in terms of the plucked and fretted vīnā as instrument of reference. In the Thanjavur vīnā tradition of Muttusvāmi Dīksitar, ‘ten kinds of gamaka ’ are mentioned, and two published treatises from around 1800 confirm the ten: the Sangīta-sāra-sangrahamu and Vīnā-laksana. In the Sangīta-sampradāya-pradarśinī (1904) Subbarāma Dīksitar ingeniously incorporated the ten gamaka of this south Indian oral tradition into the 15 of the Sangīta-ratnākara and superimposed on them both a threefold classification of his own. Ex.10(i)–(iii) illustrates eight of the ten, written with symbols derived from Subbarāma Dīksitar’s own and transcribed in an approximation of their sound.

Dīksitar’s three main categories were based on means of production or musical function, or both. For consistency, his classification is slightly modified in ex.10. The first category comprises shakes called kampita, produced by holding the playing wire behind the fret and deflecting it out of line across the fret. The musical function of this class is prolongation. In Karnatak music six of the 12 svarasthāna may never be sustained without being shaken, and of the remaining six all but the invariant tonic and 5th (sa and pa) are shaken in many contexts.

The characteristic of the second category is stress; all of its members involve fingering on the frets. The third class is the slides, the principal member of which is jāru. Dīksitar included two articulation ornaments in his third class, neither of which, however, is normally produced by sliding. The orika is made by deflection, and odigimpu may be fingered or deflected. These last two gamaka (ex.10(ii)(d) and (e)), and the various forms of kampita (ex.10(i)(a)), are what give Karnatak music the quality of being always in motion even at the very slowest tempo. When gamaka is used as a specific rather than a generic term, it means kampita.

(c) Gamaka in Hindustani music.

Whereas Karnatak music hardly ever prolongs a svara without a shake, Hindustani music emphasizes steady and sustained tone. The heavily oscillating āndolan, corresponding to the south Indian kampita, is used only in very special circumstances, such as on the sixth degree of rāga Hamīr (the rāga being thereby identified), on the third and sixth degrees of rāga Darbārī Kānadā (see exx.1 and 2 passim), or the third degree of raga Mīyā kī Mallār. Hindustani music is especially characterized, however, by the mīnd, a slow portamento from one degree to another, like the Karnatak jāru. In an ālāp or slow khayāl in a serious rāga such as Darbārī Kānadā, virtually every svara is approached or left with mīnd. On an instrument such as the sitār, mīnd is made by ultā mīnd (deflection) or paltā mīnd (release of a deflected string). The fingerboard is especially wide for just this purpose, and slow mīnd of half an octave or more can be made. The same effect is achieved on unfretted instruments such as the sārangī by sliding along the string (sūt).

The smooth glissando of mīnd and sūt contrasts with the rapid articulation of discrete pitches in krintan (a fingered turn) and ghasīt (the finger slides rapidly along the sitār string touching all the intermediate frets; see §6 below).

The general term in Hindustani music for a single appoggiatura or acciaccatura is kan-svara. The general class of turns is called murkī. A chain of mordents on successive svara is called zamzamā.

Hindustani musicians generally use such terms as uccār (‘pronunciation’) rather than gamak to denote how a svara is treated in context. Gamak as a specific ornament in Hindustani music is a fast and heavy shake from each of a number of degrees in passage-work, in which the pitches of the degrees themselves may become ambiguous. Instrumentally the Hindustani gamak is particularly effective on fretless string instruments such as sarod or sārangī, where the sliding left hand can be jerked vigorously from position to position along the wire or string.

Ornamentation is particularly important in Hindustani music as an indicator of stylistic identity. The major vocal genres and their instrumental equivalents are distinguished by their ornamentation (as well as by rhythm and other characteristics). Mīnd, āndolan and gamak are the principal ornaments in dhrupad; gamak and kan-svara are applied with rapid throat movement in khayāl; murkī is the hallmark of thumrī, and zamzamā of tappā. Similarly, the bānī of dhrupad and the schools (gharānā) of vocal and instrumental music define their musical identities partly in terms of specific ornaments and other techniques. Thus the sitār/sarod school of Alauddin Khan cultivates both fingered and pulled or sliding ornaments (krintan and mīnd), whereas the school of Vilayat Khan (the Imdād Khān gharānā) has developed pulled/sliding techniques to the virtual exclusion of fingered ornaments.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 3: Theory and practice of classical music., Melodic elaboration.

(ii) Improvisation.

(a) Principles.

(b) Historical background.

(d) The exposition of a Karnatak rāga.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 3(ii): Theory and practice of classical music., Melodic elaboration., i) Improvisation.

(a) Principles.

Improvisation with the elements of a rāga and within its structural framework plays the major role in performance, although in Karnatak music the rendering of compositions has been taking an ever larger share of total performance time. Improvisation, of course, does not mean assembling individual degrees in random order: even in its most free form it entails combining and elaborating motifs and phrases. Melodic elaboration can take the form of varying and extending a particular phrase, through stretching and compressing of motivic elements and through prefixing, suffixing or inserting motivic elements from within the same phrase or from other phrases. It also entails the combination of different phrase types within a particular register (pūrvāng, uttarāng etc.) and their extension into adjacent registers.

There is no single general term for improvisation. Melodic elaboration, whether improvised or not, may be referred to by such terms as ‘discourse’ (ālāpa), ‘expansion’ (vistār, barhat), ‘invention, fancy’ (upaj) and by more specific terms for particular techniques. The fundamental principle by which different types of elaboration are distinguished in theory and organized in performance is rhythm: rhythm with or without clear pulse, with or without metre (tāla), and at different tempos and levels of rhythmic density (see §4(i) below). In performance, unpulsed rhythm leads to pulsed, unmetred to metred and slow to fast (or less dense to more dense). At different stages of the performance different ornaments, vocal or instrumental techniques and types of melodic and rhythmic improvisation become appropriate. The consequent richness of stylistic variety enables the musician to elaborate a single rāga for an hour or more.

Table 9 summarizes the principal improvisatory styles in relation to their rhythmic organization. The theoretical terms nibaddha and anibaddha respectively denote music that is ‘constrained’ or ‘unconstrained’ by song-text and/or tāla. They correspond to two major categories of improvisation, that which occurs during the rendition of a metrical composition, and that which is independent of both composition and metre. Nibaddha improvisation styles will be discussed in more detail below (see §5(ii)–(iv)). Table 9 not only classifies the repertory of improvisatory styles but also maps their sequential organization in performance. Most genres proceed down the first column (non-metrical improvisation, first without and then with clear pulse) then, after introducing a metrical composition, down the second column. The Hindustani khayāl, though the dominant vocal style in north India, represents an exception in that little attention is normally paid to the first column. The performance usually begins with the composition or with only a short, unpulsed ālāp.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 3(ii): Theory and practice of classical music., Melodic elaboration., i) Improvisation.

(b) Historical background.

The term ālāpa, meaning a genre of melody designed to exhibit the modal characteristics of a rāga in a systematic manner, and notated ālāpa melodies demonstrating different rāgas, appear in historical sources almost as early as the term rāga (see §II above). Rāga and ālāpa are closely related concepts, for it is through ālāpa (in which there are no metrical or textual constraints on the free flow of melody) that the fine distinctions between different rāgas, and the individual character of each, can be most clearly demonstrated. Notated examples suggest that in early (pre-13th-century) ālāpa, the melodic material of the rāga was expressed as an elaborate octave ascent and descent. This pattern, with some extension in the upper register, could be repeated with different melodic elaborations and in different rhythmic styles.

Although it is stated that the purpose of the ālāpa is to demonstrate all the features of rāga, there is no theoretical discussion of the method of doing so until the Sangīta-ratnākara (13th century), where the related term ālapti denotes melodic elaboration in general. It is defined as ‘making clear or manifest, unfolding [the rāga]’ (prakatīkarana), and it can be applied to the rāga alone (rāgālapti), or to a composition (rūpakālapti; see §5(ii) below). According to Sangīta-ratnākara 's description, rāgālapti comprised four stages, in which four successively higher pitch areas within the octave were developed in turn. Each stage departed from and returned to the tonic (sthāyī). The opening phrase of the first stage was called mukha-cāla, where cāla denotes a movement (of pitch) and mukha means ‘face’ (perhaps implying that part of the rāga by which the whole is recognized). The development of each pitch area focussed on a particular important degree of the rāga: in succession, a note in the lower half of the scale, the fourth or fifth, a note in the upper half of the scale, and the upper tonic. A number of brief examples are given in the Sangīta-ratnākara, and it is stated that the same procedure was applied to all rāgas (ex.11). In principle, the note-by-note expansion of melodic range within a central octave remains a fundamental process in Hindustani dhrupad, khyāl and instrumental ālāp. Śārngadeva's comment on the role of ornamentation and of pitch hierarchy in such improvisation applies equally to modern Hindustani and Karnatak music: ‘The establishment of the rāga should be effected by means of very gradual, clear, circuitous figurations (sthāya), pervaded by the vital notes (jīva-svara) of the rāga’ (chapter 3, p.196).

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 3(ii): Theory and practice of classical music., Melodic elaboration., i) Improvisation.

(c) The exposition of a Hindustani rāga.

Improvised exposition of the rāga ungoverned by a time cycle can be pulsed or unpulsed in both modern traditions. In performance styles other than the Hindustani slow khayāl, the ālāp is rendered without tāla. With Hindustani dhrupad (and usually with khayāl of the Agra gharānā), with the best known Hindustani instrumental styles and with south Indian pallavi exposition an ālāp always comes first; the rendering of kīrtanam compositions in south Indian concerts is also often preceded by an ālāpana of the composition’s rāga. In Hindustani dhrupad and plucked instrument items a second, pulsed exposition of the rāga follows the ālāp, called nom-tom or jor respectively. The south Indian equivalent before a pallavi exposition is tānam. In Hindustani instrumental music jor is usually followed by jhālā, rhythmic patterns arising from rapidly striking the playing string and side strings in various patterns.

The Sangīta-ratnākara ’s description of rāgālapti corresponds very closely in principle with the Hindustani ālāp; this is also true of ālāp in slow khayāl, with the proviso that returns are made to the mukhrā of a composition and aimed at an arrival point whose timing is controlled by a long time cycle. Given whatever restrictions may ensue in one rāga as opposed to another, the ālāp proceeds as the Sangīta-ratnākara says: it is built upwards registrally in sections, returning at the end of each section to the pūrvāng, which is marked each time by the mukhrā, a short pulsed cadential tag, sam dikhāne (‘for showing the sam ’). In principle each registrally determined section reaches one svara higher than the previous section. Ex.12 comprises the main part of an ālāp of rāga Pūriyā, along with fragments of jor and jhālā (see below), taken from demonstration samples in a modern sitār manual. (To see the structural relationship of this ālāp of Pūriyā to the abstracted configurations of the rāga, see Mode, §V, 3.) Owing to the didactic origins of ex.12, the melodic development is somewhat mechanical, and details of rhythm, articulation and ornamentation are missing.

The first four sections of ex.12(a) correspond to the first three sections of the Sangīta-ratnākara 's description, with section 1 equivalent to mukha-cāla; sections 5 and 6 of ex.12(a) correspond to the Sangīta-ratnākara 's section 4. There is a return to the lower tonic at the end of each section, making the ālāp an instance of the ‘back to the beginning’ principle of cyclic organization. Section 4 is particularly interesting in respect to the specific rāga structure and the general procedure of ālāp. It is the section establishing a, in due ascending order of degrees after the vādī degree e (section 2) and f (section 3). Taken by itself and out of context, much of section 4, with its emphasis on a, could suggest the rāga Mārvā (see Mode, §V, 3); only in the last three units, as it approaches its cadence, does the bhāva (‘feeling’) and chāyā (‘image’) of Pūriyā reappear. Two things, however, make this merely a neutral passage in which Pūriyā is temporarily tirobhāv (‘hidden’), rather than a destructive passage making rāga Mārvā ‘manifest’ (āvirbhāv). Firstly, although one of Mārvā's principal svara (a) is brought forth, Mārvā's characteristically strong d is very weak here. The d comes briefly at exposed initial positions but only in the middle of sets of progressively expanding approaches to a, from below (units 1 to 5 in section 4), and from above (units 6 to 8; for a comparison see Mode, §V, 3). Secondly, the chāyā and bhāva of Pūriyā has already been fully established in the preceding stages of the ālāp in ex.12, especially in section 2; and the one degree of the scale not used as an emphasized degree in the succession of upwardly extending sections is d, the characteristic degree for Mārvā.

It should also be noted that no section leading to a final b is included in the sample. Although b is the second most important degree in Pūriyā (after e), it is not usually an important phrase-final; its significance, rather, is as a phrase-initial, as an upper or lower sustained mid-phrase focus, and as a registral boundary.

Ex.12a demonstrates the two larger divisions of a typical ālāp; sections 1 to 4 establish the pūrvāng of the rāga, sections 5 to 6 the uttarāng. These larger divisions are often termed sthāyī and antarā respectively, after the sections of a composition, which are similarly distinguished by register (see §5(i) below). Ex.12a continues with a further section, not shown here, exploring the register below the system tonic (mandra), but in practice this register is normally developed at the beginning of the sthāyī.

Pulsed rāga exposition is illustrated in ex.12b and c. The jor is the type called ladī (‘chain’ or ‘string’), the basic variety, and is always presented first. It is made by building back from an ending; in the section shown here e, f–e and e–f–e build to a motif characteristic for the rāga. E–f–e then ends each unit until the final, cadential unit brings the line down. The second section follows the same procedure: c, B–c, B–d–c sets up a characteristic motif that can then conclude an ever-lengthening sequence of phrases building towards it. A second jor variety is guthāv (‘intertwining’), in which a small group of svara adjacent in the rāga (usually three) is permuted in all kinds of combinations; still another variety combines the principles of ladī and guthāv.

Ex.12c shows two fragments of jhālā, which follows jor in the succession of instrumental improvisations without time cycle. It is played with single plucks on the playing string (bāj) followed by one, two or three strokes at the side drone strings (cikārī). The alternation establishes a simple, recurring rhythmic pattern called a chand, as indicated by the syllables (bol) designating the two kinds of stroke: dā–rā–rā–rā/dā–rā–rā–rā for a simple 4 + 4 pattern, dā–rā–rā/dā–rā–rā/dā–rā for 3 + 3 + 2, these being the two most common chand. Any combination of twos, threes and fours may be used, however, and modern players make some very complex patterns. The chand may be freely combined, changed and interrupted, there being no larger time cycle controlling them when jhālā follows immediately upon jor. When used to provide a thrilling conclusion to a gat improvisation, jhālā conforms to the 16-beat Tīntāl, which is accelerated to the maximum possible speed.

The vocal equivalent of jor is nom-tom, sung in dhrupad ālāp: the pulsed units are sung with a small number of conventional meaningless syllables (ti, ta, rī, ra, na, nā, nom and tom), and the music is similar in style to jor, which was probably modelled on nom-tom. The last stage of nom-tom, equivalent to and probably modelled on the instrumental jhālā, is sung with the syllables ta–na–na–na ra–na–na–na and the like, making fast combinations like an instrumental chand, but with repeated notes. From time to time wide swoops in pitch of the order of an octave, made with closed or nearly closed lips, break the flow; they are onomatopoeically called hun-kāra (an old gamaka name coming from the 15 in the Sangīta-ratnākara). Other ornaments important in nom-tom include gamaka, lahak, hudak etc.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 3(ii): Theory and practice of classical music., Melodic elaboration., i) Improvisation.

(d) The exposition of a Karnatak rāga.

The differences in style between Karnatak and Hindustani music are nowhere more exposed than in ālāpana and ālāp. The stately Hindustani ālāp exhibits individual scale degrees often approached by slow mīnd and, in certain rāgas, sustained with oscillations. The Karnatak ālāpana alternates occasional sustained pitches with other scale degrees prolonged in wide shakes, often preceded by a few short semi-detached notes, the whole interspersed with short bursts of melodic flourish even in slow-paced portions.

A full rāga ālāpana in Karnatak music is also structured somewhat differently in performance from the Hindustani ālāp, although the same basic principles are involved. The early 17th-century Thanjavur treatise Sangīta-sudhā described a procedure not quite like that of the Sangīta-ratnākara. The samples in the Shahjī manuscripts of the later 17th century confirm the procedures described, and the modern practice is very much the same.

The typical Karnatak ālāpana opens with an āksiptikā (‘throwing out’, the vernacular is āyittam), in which a brief overview of several of the basic configurations of uttarāng as well as pūrvāng is given. In the second stage – rāgavardhanī (‘rāga expansion’) in the Sangīta-sudhā – phrases of the pūrvāng are first developed as fully as possible as melodic units, expanded, and contracted internally and combined together through rising and falling patterns externally. The second part of this stage moves to the uttarāng and establishes the upper octave of the system tonic, building and developing uttarāng phrases.

Following the rāga expansion based on melodic elaboration and concatenation comes a second exposition based on approaches to endings, sometimes called vinyāsa-sañcāra (‘end-[marked-]passages’). Vinyāsa-sañcāra is based on the return principle. A short motif is sung, and the approaches to it are progressively lengthened. Vinyāsa-sañcāra is used as the principal area for virtuoso display and comprises three elements: the goal motif; the nearest available sustainable pitch; and ever-longer, ever-wider chains of brikka or phirukka (Hindustani phirnā ‘whirl’), melismatic patterns. These may also appear elsewhere but are characteristically developed in this way. Two or three vinyāsa-sañcāra sections are sung in a full Karnatak ālāpana, with particular emphasis on one that allows the nuclear steady pitch to be at the upper tonic or, where the rāga allows it, higher still.

The last section of the ālāpana brings the pitch and intensity level gradually downwards, through melodic motifs of the uttarāng and pūrvāng, and concludes normally with a few phrases in the mandra (below the system tonic) before coming to rest on the tonic.

Such an ālāpana will normally appear once or twice in a concert. It may precede a kriti composition that is going to be treated as a major item. Traditionally, however, the full ālāpana of a major rāga was presented in connection with the concert item designated rāgam-tānam-pallavi, in which case it would be followed by the pulsed rāga improvisation called tānam. In principle, rāgam-tānam-pallavi is the major item in a programme of Karnatak music, although in modern practice it is often given a lesser role, some kriti earlier in the programme having been given a full complement of prior ālāpana, and adjunct niraval and kalpana svara. The tānam, however, is usually done only in rāgam-tānam-pallavi (see §5(iv) below for discussion of this genre).

South Indian tānam is close to Hindustani nom-tom, given the differences in style; the syllables are tā nam, ta ka nam, ā nan dam etc. Separate sections of tānam are built in successively higher registral levels, each is concluded with a short unpulsed passage of ālāpana before the next is begun. The whole tānam concludes with the threefold sequence of a tānam phrase at successively lower pitch levels (usually built around upper tonic, 5th and lower tonic), followed by a few last phrases of unpulsed ālāpana.

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music.

4. Rhythm and tāla.

(i) Terms for rhythm and metre.

(ii) Historical development of tāla systems.

(iii) Tāla in Karnatak music.

(iv) Tāla in Hindustani music.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 4: Theory and practice of classical music., Rhythm and tāla.

(i) Terms for rhythm and metre.

Rhythmic organization is at least as important as melody in characterizing the many styles of Indian classical music. The Hindustani and Karnatak styles are distinguished partly by their rhythmic characteristics, as are the vocal genres of Hindustani music (dhrupad, khayāl, thumrī etc.) and their instrumental counterparts. An extended performance of a rāga is likely to comprise a sequence of rhythmically differentiated sections, moving from unmetred rhythm to fixed metre (tāla) and from slow tempo to fast.

Fundamental to the discussion of rhythm in Indian musical discourse is the concept of measuring time, usually on the basis of a regular pulse, called mātrā (‘unit of measurement’) in Hindustani music or aksara (‘syllable’) in Karnatak music. These terms are often rendered in English as ‘beat’ (though this word can be confused with the hand-gestures of tāla) or ‘count’, since the mātrā/aksara can usually be counted on the fingers during teaching or performance (with some exceptions in very fast or very slow tempo). In general, however, the mātrā/aksara corresponds most closely to the concept of a ‘beat’ in Western music.

The closest Indian equivalent for the modern Western term ‘rhythm’ is laya. The basic meaning of laya is ‘tempo’, with three basic levels: slow (vilambit[a]), medium (madhya) and fast (drut[a]). A secondary meaning is ‘rhythmic density’, the subdivision of each beat into two or more equal parts, giving the impression of faster tempos. In Hindustani music the tempo of the beat (mātrā) is termed barābar laya, and the beat may be subdivided into two (dugun laya), three (tigun), four (caugun), six (chegun) or eight (āthgun). Other laya such as 5:1, 7:1, 4:3 etc. are encountered mostly in instrumental solos. In Karnatak music the terms gati and natai similarly denote levels of laya. The normal subdivision of the beat into two or four is called caturaśra (‘four-cornered’) gati/natai, while alternative subdivisions are three or six (tiśra), five (khanda) and seven (miśra gati/natai).

Gati (or gata) means ‘pace’ or ‘movement’ and occurs in other senses too. In Hindustani instrumental music a gat is a composition characterized by its ‘movement’, a rhythmic plucking-pattern on the sitār or sarod, or a configuration of rhythmic densities on the tablā. Another term for rhythmic ‘movement’ is cāl, ‘gait’, as in hāthī kā cāl, ‘elephant's gait’ (the slow rhythm of a dhrupad in Cautāl). Closer to Western ‘metre’ are chand, the term for metre in poetry, which in music denotes a small repeated surface-rhythm pattern (e.g. 3 + 2 + 2), and tāla, a cyclically repeating fixed time cycle.

Most performances begin with an unmetred introduction, even if only consisting of one or two phrases to introduce the rāga (see §3(ii)(c) above). In Hindustani vocal (dhrupad) and instrumental ālāp, and in Karnatak rāgam-tānam-pallavī, this introduction is extended to give a complete exposition of the rāga in several rhythmically differentiated sections. The rhythm of the opening slow ālāp or rāgam appears to be unregulated by a consistent pulse, except in the periodic mohrā formula of ālāp, where an explicit pulsation temporarily resolves the rhythmic ambiguity of the surrounding improvisation. The performer may, however, have a more or less regular pulse in mind throughout. A pulse becomes explicit (and faster) in the medium-tempo ālāp (jor) or Karnatak tānam, where irregular groupings of two, three, four etc. pulses maintain metrical ambiguity and rhythmic interest. Hindustani fast ālāp, which plucked string instruments play in the jhālā style (see ex.12), accelerates the pulse to the maximum technically possible. The grouping of pulses here may again be irregular, but groups of four predominate, and rhythmic patterning (chand) in threes, fives, sevens etc. may be introduced for variety. There is no Karnatak equivalent of fast ālāp.

The ālāp(ana) is usually followed by a composition and further improvisations set to a particular tāla. Tāla, from Sanskrit tala (‘flat surface, palm’), means a clap or slap and hence the measurement of musical time with the aid of claps and other cheironomic gestures (kriyā). Each particular tāla comprises a number of pulse-beats (mātrā) grouped into a ‘cycle’ (Hindustani āvart, Karnatak āvartanam), defined by an emphasized beat (sam) at the beginning. Audible claps (Hindustani tālī) and silent waves (Hindustani khālī) are used to mark the first and selected other pulses during the cycle, in a set pattern, as an aid to keeping time in teaching and in the performance of certain genres. The disposition of claps at unequal intervals helps to maintain a sense of position within the cycle. In some genres the hand-gestures are replaced in performance by instruments: by small cymbals (appropriately named tālam) in the Karnatak nāgasvaram (oboe) ensemble and in many non-classical religious music genres, and by the Hindustani tablā, which plays a set pattern of strokes (thekā, literally ‘support’) based on the theoretical clap-pattern. In khayāl and thumrī the role of the tablā is restricted to playing decorated variants of this thekā, and hand-gestures are therefore unnecessary. In dhrupad the pakhāvaj drum improvises freely, returning to the thekā only occasionally. In this genre, and even more so in Karnatak practice where there is no thekā at all, the hand-gestures are an essential means of articulating the metrical structure and are performed by solo vocalists and/or by members of the audience.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 4: Theory and practice of classical music., Rhythm and tāla.

(ii) Historical development of tāla systems.

As with melody, there is an inherited body of rhythmic theory that no longer describes practice but is a source of rhythmic concepts and terminology. Again as with modal theory, the system of ‘canonical’ (mārga) tālas described in the earliest treatises (Nātyaśāstra, Dattilam) is distinctively different from that of the ‘provincial’ (deśī) tālas recorded in later texts such as the Sangīta-ratnākara. The deśī-tāla provide the basis for the modern tāla systems.

In both historical systems, hand-gestures and/or cymbal strokes, arranged in asymmetrical patterns, were used to articulate rhythmic periods. In the mārga system, an elaborate cheironomic code, using claps (samnipāta) and four different silent gestures, was employed to mark the progress of the saptagītaka, a repertory of sacred song used in the introduction to drama. The complexity of this code may have been necessitated by the extended and complex temporal structures of the saptagītaka, which do not seem to have been organized according to simple metrical cycles or strophic forms.

The mārga-tāla system also included five simple patterns that may have been cyclically repeated in less complex genres such as the dhruvā stage songs. The later deśī-tāla system consisted entirely of such cyclical patterns – the Sangīta-ratnākara lists 120 – and the complex cheironomy of the saptagītaka was therefore no longer required.

Both mārga and deśī systems defined the spacing of hand-claps or cymbal strokes using values and terminology derived from poetics. The basic values were laghu (‘light’), guru (‘heavy’, two laghus) and pluta (‘protracted’, three laghus). In the deśī system two shorter values were added, druta (‘fast’, half laghu) and anudruta (‘very fast’, quarter laghu). These shorter values, and the virāma (‘rest’) that extended the previous value by a fraction, enabled the expression of a greater variety of rhythmic proportions than was possible with the three basic values of the mārga system.

Although these prosodic values could be used to express ternary rhythm, the metrical structure of the mārga system was, at another level, exclusively binary. The basic pulse or mātrā, defined as about one second in length, was grouped into metrical units (kalā) comprising two, four or eight pulses. These units could be combined into larger periods (anga, ‘limb’), described as caturaśra (‘four-cornered’) if there were 4, 8, 16 or 32 units, or tryaśra (‘three-cornered’) if there were 6, 12 or 24. Claps and silent hand-gestures were then assigned to specific metrical units according to a variety of patterns. Each pattern could be expanded to double or quadruple length by inserting extra units between those of the original pattern; silent hand-gestures denoted these extra units.

Additive or ‘mixed’ (miśra, sankīrna) metres comprising five, seven, nine etc. metrical units were not employed in the sacred hymns and stage songs described by the Nātyaśāstra, though they were acknowledged to exist. Such metres are prominent in the deśī tāla system, where the binary kalā is replaced by metrical units of different lengths, expressed by the prosodic values laghu, druta, anudruta etc. Theorists delighted in cataloguing (and no doubt also inventing) dozens of tālas formed from combinations of these units, some of which must have been ephemeral while others have remained in the repertory more permanently. Even some of the more recherché patterns can still be heard as an occasional tour de force in Hindustani percussion solos or Karnatak rāgam-tānam-pallavi performances.

A limitation of the deśī system was that its basic units still expressed only binary proportions (apart from the rarely used longest unit, the pluta). Units of three, five etc. could only be expressed by combinations of binary units with or without virāma. In the modern Karnatak tāla system (see below), this limitation has been resolved by making the laghu a variable unit, comprising three, four, five, seven or nine beats (the druta and anudruta remaining fixed at two beats and one respectively). In the north, the prosodic terminology has been abandoned altogether; metrical units (vibhāg) of two, three, four and five beats are employed without terminological distinction.

Two further aspects of tāla that are important in the modern traditions can be traced in texts dealing with the deśī-tāla. From the Sangīta-ratnākara onwards certain composition types (prabandha, see §5(i) below) were associated with particular tālas, often sharing the same name, as in the modern dhamār and dādrā (see §(iv) below). In later texts, tālas began to be associated with particular configurations of drum syllables, though the concept of thekā emerges fully only in modern Hindustani practice (see below). Despite these theory–practice connections, however, the number of tālas in practical use today, and probably also in earlier times, in any one tradition is very small compared with the innumerable patterns available in theory. A group of seven tālas called sālaga-sūda or sūlādi (named after the sālaga-sūda prabandha in which they were used) has had particular importance since the Sangīta-ratnākara, surviving in different forms today in the Karnatak ‘formal’ system (see below) and the Newar caryā tradition of Nepal. A similar set of ten tālas was used for singing dhrupad at the Mughal court in the 16th century or early 17th, according to the song collection Sahasras. While the modern Karnatak sūlādi system comprises 35 basic tālas, the ‘informal’ system predominantly used in practice comprises at most ten (see below). These provide fast and slow varieties of binary, ternary, quintuple and septuple metre. The Hindustani tālas in common use also represent these four metrical types but with more varieties (distinguished by clap-pattern and/or by drum-pattern, thekā), numbering about 20 altogether.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 4: Theory and practice of classical music., Rhythm and tāla.

(iii) Tāla in Karnatak music.

In modern Karnatak music there are, in effect, two systems of tāla. What might be called the formal system is of considerable antiquity and forms the basis of the early stages of formal music instruction said to have been laid down by the Kanada devotional singer Purandara Dās (1480–1564). In concert performing practice, tālas appertaining only to the formal system are represented in a few restricted and largely rather learned contexts. The informal system may be seen as a simplification and reformulation of elements of the formal system. It is the basis of the great bulk of the current repertory, including Ksetrayya's padam and Tyāgarāja's kīrtanam.

(a) The formal system.

The formal system is shown in Table 10. It comprises the seven sūlādi tālas, each of which is defined by a clap-pattern comprising one or more segments (anga), expressed with the values anudruta (one beat), druta (two beats) and laghu. The laghu is a variable quantity, comprising three beats (tisra), four beats (caturaśra), five beats (khanda), seven beats (miśra) or nine beats (sankīrna). In counting time each segment is marked by an audible clap (tattu) on the first beat. The remaining beats of a laghu are counted by touching fingers to thumb or palm, while the second beat of a druta is indicated by a silent gesture with palm upturned (vīccu).

Each sūlādi tāla has five variants, distinguished by the value of the laghu. However, in each case there is one principal variant (boxed in Table 10), which may be denoted by the simple tāla name without any further qualification. Four of these principal varieties are caturaśra, with one representative each of the tisra, khanda and miśra types. The remaining variants are rarities, with the exception of caturaśra Triputa, known as ‘Ādi tāla’ (‘first tāla’), which plays an extremely important role in the ‘informal’ system.

Other tāla varieties of the formal system are represented only in special circumstances. Ata tāla (in its principal khanda variety) has one very prominent role in the Karnatak tradition: it is one of two tālas used for the tāna varnam (see §5(iv) below), the other being Ādi. Ex.7 in Jhampā tāla belongs to a set composed by Muttusvāmi Dīksitar on the shrines of the nine planets in the Thiruvarur temple. The first seven of this set are on the planets that correspond with the seven days of the week and are set successively in each of the seven sūlādi tālas (ex.7 is for the planet Mercury, corresponding to Wednesday). Certain compositions in khanda Jhampā tāla (5 + 1 + 2) and khanda Triputa tāla (5 + 2 + 2) are widely known, and pallavi are often rendered in rare varieties of the sūlādi tālas.

(b) The informal system.

What is here called the ‘informal’ tāla system comprises selected tālas of the ‘formal’ system plus two fast tālas called Cāpu. Table 11 shows how these together provide a system of binary, ternary, quintuple and septuple metres in slow and fast forms. The Cāpu tālas (khanda Cāpu, five beats, and miśra Cāpu, seven beats) function as fast varieties of Jhampā and Triputa respectively; khanda Cāpu is colloquially called ara Jhampā (‘half Jhampā’). They are not analysed in terms of laghu, druta and anudruta units as are the sūlādi tālas, but they are clapped as follows: khanda Cāpu 2 + 1 + 2, miśra Cāpu (3) + 2 + 2 with a wave rather than a clap on the first beat. The binary tāla Ādi is the most important and most frequently used tāla of Karnatak music (exx.6 and 8 are both in slow Ādi tāla).

It is a fundamental principle of tāla that while the pattern of irregularly spaced audible claps marks the rotation of the cycle, it does not necessarily indicate the rhythmic organization of musical events within the time-span so measured. Not only is there an almost infinite variety of possible rhythmic configurations within any tāla cycle, but a tāla may even be characterized by an internal rhythm different from that implied by the clap-pattern. Thus the Karnatak Jhampā tāla, in its most common miśra variety, is structured by claps as 7 + 1 + 2, but the characteristic rhythm of melodies in this tāla is (2 + 3) + (2 + 3), as seen in ex.7. Similar internal rhythms operate to a greater or lesser extent in many other tālas of both the Karnatak and Hindustani systems.

For two of the asymmetric tālas the syllabic quantities in compositions normally fit the pulse and the beats of the tālas. The quintal patterning of ex.7 in the slow Jhampā tāla is pointed out above. Ex.9 shows similar conformities for long–short syllable distributions in the fast triple Rūpaka tāla. Note in Vēnugānalōluni that the metrical position of the first syllable (etuppu) comes after the first beat, and that this conventional delay endows ‘back to the beginning’ returns, such as the kalpana svara in ex.13, with a much greater forward momentum into the composition than they would have if it began on the first beat itself, following the syllabic quantities literally.

The most common pattern for fast Ādi tāla compositions is illustrated in Table 12a. Unlike those in other fast tālas, this rhythm is not tightly tied to syllabic quantity. The basic rhythm is of half-beats grouped 2 + 3 + 3. This basic rhythm is shown on the centre line of Table 12a and is taken twice in one cycle. The etuppu (initial time-point) is the second half of the second beat of the tāla and the arudi (point of arrival) the fifth beat, at the first druta. In terms of the rhythm there is a strong downbeat on the arudi preceded by an anacrusis of five half-beats. The anacrusis itself concludes with a fixed long plus short (time value and syllabic quantity), which in turn is set up with one, two or three syllables fitted into two pulses. The second 2 + 3 + 3 is structured in the same way, but with less weight at the point of arrival and as a whole. All the variants indicated in Table 12a occur, and in many combinations. The musical rhythm, in short, exists prior to the composition of the text. Apart from the long–short conclusion of the upbeat phrase, syllabic quantity as such is not important; the text is conformable to free combinations of the prosody of popular Telugu poetry. There are hundreds of compositions of Karnatak music in this variety of Ādi tāla, and it is one of the most widely known and best-loved of all south Indian musical types. It is called Deśādi tāla.

Just as characteristic of south Indian music is the faster variety of the ‘mixed’ tāla of 3 + 4, whose most common rhythmic combinations are shown in Table 12b. This miśra Cāpu tāla is not quite as sprightly as the Deśādi of Table 12a, but rather more lyrical and flowing. As may be seen in Table 12b there is a somewhat greater flexibility in the rhythmic patterning than there is in Deśādi; within each separate vertical segment undivided horizontally, any alternative shown is possible. Beyond this, there are two different possibilities as to arudi (point of arrival). An arudi may come firmly and be sustained at the downbeat of the third āvartanam, as shown in the bottom part of the table, so that the second phrase has less weight than the first; however, as shown in the top part of the table, there may be no real point of arrival at all. The music can fit easily and comfortably into an evenly balanced two-phrase format without driving towards one rhythmic goal more than another. This graceful tāla accounts for well over half Ksetrayya's padam compositions and for some of Tyāgarāja's best-known kīrtanam compositions.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 4: Theory and practice of classical music., Rhythm and tāla.

(iv) Tāla in Hindustani music.

The tālas of Hindustani music are not codified according to any consistent system, but rather comprise a number of overlapping repertories associated with different genres and ensembles. Table 13 gives an overview in which the tālas are arranged by metrical type: binary (8 or 16 mātrā), ternary (6 or 12), quintuple (5 or 10), septuple (7 or 14) and others (9, 11, 15 etc.). For each tāla the genres and tempos in which it is used are indicated. Thus Tīntāl is used in all tempos and in almost all genres except dhrupad, Cautāl is used in all tempos, mainly in dhrupad, and so on.

The division of each tāla into segments (vibhāg), indicated in practice either by hand-gestures or by an accompanying drum-pattern (thekā), is shown numerically in Table 13. Thus the 16-beat Tīntāl, which is by far the most common Hindustani tāla, is divided into four segments of four beats each, shown as 4 + 4 + (4) + 4. Each segment except the third begins with a clap (tālī), and the third segment (bracketed) is indicated by a wave (khālī); for the accompanying drum-patterns see Table 14. In written notation the clapped segments are numbered, with X (in place of 1) to mark the first clap (sam) and 0 to denote khālī; the notation for Tīntāl is therefore X 2 0 3. Note that it is the claps that are enumerated, not the pulse-beats or segments, hence the name Tīntāl, ‘three[-clap] tāla’ (compared with Cautāl, ‘four[-clap] tāla’, which has 12 pulse-beats).

The tendency to organize musical rhythm within the cycle into an evenly balanced two-phrase format, which was noted in the case of Karnatak Jhampā, Deśādi and miśra Cāpu tālas (though not reflected in their clap-patterns), has become an important principle of tāla construction in Hindustani music and is manifested more or less overtly in the clap-patterns. Thus in each metrical category of Table 13, except the last, there are one or more tālas whose clap-pattern resembles Tīntāl, clap-clap-wave-clap (X 2 0 3), with the khālī wave marking the division of the cycle into two halves of equal length. The segment lengths in these tālas are usually the same in each half, thus [4 + 4] + [(4) + 4] (Tīntāl), [2 + 3] + [(2) + 3] (Jhaptāl), and [3 + 4] + [(3) + 4] (Dīpcandī, Jhūmrā). There are also two short tālas, used in light genres, with a simpler symmetry: 4 + (4) (Kaharvā) and 3 + (3) (Dādrā). The khālī in all these tālas does not mark a ‘weak beat’, as is sometimes claimed, but the second of two balancing components, of which the first (marked by sam) is the stronger. This symmetry is reflected in compositions such as the sitār gat in ex.3. Although a pervasive feature of Hindustani rhythm, the function of the mid-way khālī is quite different from that of the similar hand-gesture in Karnatak time-beating and is unprecedented in the historical tāla systems. It is a relatively recent development in Hindustani music, being mentioned in written sources only from the late 19th century.

In addition to these balanced tālas, associated particularly with the tablā and the genres that it accompanies, there are others constructed less symmetrically, in which the khālī is either absent (Tīvra), functions as the sam (Rūpak), or serves to subdivide segments of four or five mātrā into shorter units (Sūltāl, Ādā-cautāl, Savārī tāl, Brahma tāl etc.). Thus in Cautāl, of 12 beats, the claps articulate a pattern of 4 + 4 + 2 + 2. Each of the four-beat segments is subdivided by khālī to give 2 + (2) + 2 + (2) + 2 + 2. One result of this subdivision, however, is that the second khālī falls at the beginning of the second half of the cycle and thus implies an alternative, balanced structure of two equal (if differently structured) halves: [2 + (2) + 2] + [(2) + 2 + 2]. Similarly for the 14-beat tāla Dhamār, the most common of several alternative clap-patterns is [5 + 2] + [(3) + 4], where the khālī again marks the division of the cycle into two halves of equal length but different internal division. In both Cautāl and Dhamār the typical rhythm of vocal compositions is different from the tāla segmentation but coincides with it at the sam and the mid-way khālī: [3 + 3] + [3 + 3] in Cautāl, [3 + 4] + [3 + 4] in Dhamār. In both tālas the mid-way khāli is an important landmark for singers when improvising rhythmic variations (laykārī: see §5 below). The only tālas, therefore, that exhibit no balanced structure at all within the cycle are those that are very fast (Sūltāl, Tīvrā) or not divisible by two (tālas of 7, 9, 11 etc. mātrā). Even taken together these tālas account for a very small proportion of performances.

The major vocal genres of dhrupad, khayāl and thumrī, and the instrumental styles based on them, use different (if overlapping) sets of tālas (see Table 13). They also adopt different approaches to time-keeping, to rhythmic accompaniment and to rhythmic style in composition and improvisation. In dhrupad, the tāla gestures are executed by the singer himself and knowledgeable members of the audience, as in Karnatak concert-music. The pakhāvaj accompanist is thus freed from the necessity of playing a simple thekā and may improvise an elaborate and rhythmically dense accompaniment. The dhrupad singer's approach to rhythm is essentially ‘syllabic’. In the composition each syllable of text is set to one or two beats' duration (sometimes on the basis of metrical quantity), and these durations are respected in performance, with some slight anticipations and delays for expressive effect. In laykārī variations, whether fixed or improvised, the syllables of text (like the strokes of the pakhāvaj, also conceived as syllables) are set to precise subdivisions of the mātrā according to the different levels of laya (see §(i) above). There is little room in this style for rubato.

By contrast, the rhythm of khayāl can be extremely flexible, depending on the tempo and the gharānā. The rotation of the tāla is marked by the thekā of the tablā, which frees the singer to indulge in a ‘melismatic’ rhythmic style, especially in the very slow tempos and extended tālas (Ektāl, Tilvādā, Jhūmrā) of barā khayāl. That is, syllables of text may be rather freely distributed across the beats of the cycle or extended into sustained pitches or florid melismas. Syllables and other rhythmic events do not necessarily fall on the beat, except at the first beat (sam). Such flexibility may be assisted by a tempo as slow as eight seconds per beat, a relatively recent development achieved by having the tablā player play the thekā at half the previous minimal tempo. As the tempo quickens, however, the rhythm becomes more ‘syllabic’, especially in sargam tān (solfège passages). In thumrī the retardation of tempo and melismatic freedom of the vocal rhythm have progressed so far that the mātrā can become irregular. Sometimes it is impossible to distinguish whether a 14- or a 16-beat tāla is being used, and some thumrī tālas (Dīpcandī, Cacar) can be played and counted either way.

Instrumentalists typically employ a combination of ‘syllabic’ and ‘melismatic’ rhythmic styles. The latter tends to predominate in slow-tempo, khayāl -style performances in Tīntāl or Ektāl, the former in medium- or fast-tempo, dhrupad -style gat played in tālas such as Rūpak or Jhaptāl.

The importance of the thekā in most genres of Hindustani music is such that the tālas tend now to be defined and identified in terms of their thekā, rather than by the Karnatak practice emphasizing clap-patterns. Basic thekā for the principal tālas of Hindustani music are set out in Table 14. The sonorities are encoded in the notation syllables (bol). For the purposes of defining a thekā, the most important contrast of sonority is between ‘heavy’ (bhārī) and ‘empty’ (khālī) strokes. ‘Heavy’ strokes comprise an undamped resonant stroke on the lower-pitched, left-hand drum (bāya), either alone or simultaneously with any stroke on the right head. ‘Light’ strokes comprise all strokes that lack this left-hand resonant sound. In tablā notation all heavy strokes begin with a voiced consonant (usually also aspirated): dhā, dhin, dhī etc. (both hands), ghe (or ge) (left hand alone). Empty strokes by contrast begin with an unvoiced, unaspirated consonant: tā, tin, tī, tū, tete etc. (right hand), ka, kat (left hand).

The thekā relate to the theoretical structure of the tālas in a variety of ways. In some cases the thekā could be said to be a drummed version of the clap-pattern. Heavy strokes are used for those segments of the tāla (vibhāg) denoted by claps (tālī), light strokes for the segment(s) denoted by a wave (khālī). An exemplar of this principle is Jhaptāl: the first, second and fourth segments are marked by claps and by the ‘heavy’ stroke dhī, while the third segment (commencing the balancing second half of the tāla) is marked by a wave and by the corresponding ‘light’ stroke tī. The same clap-pattern and similar thekā are found also in the 14-beat tālas Dīpcandī and Jhūmrā, and in the 16-beat Tilvādā and Cacār. The 16-beat Cacār and its 14-beat relative Dīpcandī both show a one-beat anticipation of the khālī, with ‘light’ strokes appearing at the last beat of the first half of the tāla.

The correspondence between clap-pattern and thekā is not always so direct, however. In Tīntāl, of 16 beats, the thekā is similar to that of Jhaptāl in terms of the selection and arrangement of strokes, but there is a displacement of the ‘heavy’ and ‘light’ segments of the thekā by one beat in relation to the clap-pattern. The ‘light’ strokes begin at beat 10, one beat after the wave in the clap-pattern, and ‘heavy’ strokes re-enter at beat 13, one beat after the clap on beat 12. This displacement gives a strong upbeat character to the whole thekā. Its basic formula is dhin dhin dhā / dhā, leading to and resolving on the first beat of the next segment, not / dhā dhin dhin dhā / beginning and ending with the segment boundaries. (This sense of anacrusis is also characteristic of many Tīntāl melodies, for example the instrumental Masītkhānī gat (see ex.3), where, however, the anacrusis is of five rather than three beats.) The resulting coincidence of a ‘heavy’ tablā stroke with the khālī wave on beat 9 belies the assumption that the khālī of the clap-pattern represents a ‘negative’ or ‘unemphasized’ beat. Both it and the immediately following change of tablā sonority signal the start of the second half of the tāla.

The basic correspondence of ‘heavy’ and ‘light’ tablā strokes with claps and waves respectively applies to all the variants of Tīntāl thekā and to many of the shorter tālas in varying degrees. The same correspondence also applies in some degree to the pakhāvaj thekā for tālas used in dhrupad. The thekā for Dhamār, a tāla notorious for its intricacy, is treated as two seven-beat segments, the first ‘heavy’ and the second ‘light’, with a one-beat displacement against the clap-pattern such that a ‘light’ stroke appears on the sam and a ‘heavy’ stroke on the khālī. This is even more anomalous than the well-known tāla Rūpak, which resembles the Karnatak miśra Cāpu in having a wave (and a light stroke) on the sam.

There remains a small number of tālas in which the clap-pattern and thekā bear essentially no relation to each other. Two tālas used for khayāl, Ektāl and Ādā-cautāl, derive their clap-patterns from Cautāl. However, the thekā for these tālas, though related to each other, are not derived from Cautāl thekā and show no consistent correspondence of ‘heavy’ and ‘light’ strokes with the clap-patterns. It seems likely in such cases that clap-patterns borrowed from dhrupad tālas were superimposed for theoretical purposes on to independently evolved tablā rhythms.

In summary, the Hindustani tālas are differentiated not only by length measured in beats, but by the internal organization of the constituent beats, so that ten beats (for example) can be articulated as (2 + 3) + (2 + 3) (Jhaptāl) or 2 + (2) + 2 + 2 + (2) (Sūltāl). Where two tālas have the same number of beats and the same clap-pattern, it is the thekā that distinguishes them. The same clap-pattern, on the other hand, can articulate tālas with different numbers of beats, and a sequence of drum-strokes can similarly be adapted to provide thekā for tālas of different lengths. When we bear in mind that factors such as characteristic rhythmic inflections, the sounds of particular tablā strokes, tempo and vocal or instrumental style and genre can also be strongly associated with particular tālas, the concept of tāla in north India emerges as a complex musical identity that cannot be completely defined in terms of mātrā (beats) and vibhāg (segments).

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music.

5. Compositions, genres and performance of vocal music.

(i) Compositions.

(ii) Improvisation on compositions.

(iii) Genres and performance: Hindustani music.

(iv) Genres and performance: Karnatak music.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 5: Theory and practice of classical music., Compositions, genres and performance of vocal music.

(i) Compositions.

Each item of a vocal performance of South Asian classical music is based on a composed song with poetic text, set to a particular rāga and tāla. The song (Hindustani bandiś, cīz; Karnatak prabandha) may be of minimal length compared to the extensive improvisation that precedes and/or follows it. The contribution of the performer in its rendition is of crucial importance, and the act of composition and the role of the composer do not have the status that has accrued to them in the Western musical world. The art of the poet-composer (vāg-geya-kāra, ‘maker of words and melody’) is nevertheless a respected one, and compositions attributed to important figures such as Tyāgarāja or Tānsen, and identified by the poet's signature or chāp in the final line, are highly valued. The number and kind of compositions that a musician knows can be very important elements in his professional standing. Compositions can be treasured family property and, traditionally, could be sold, pawned or included in dowries. Compositions are further important because they determine many aspects of the performance in which they are embedded: not only the rāga and tāla, but also the style of rendition and techniques of ornamentation and improvisation that may be applied.

The theoretical discrimination of composition-types began as early as the Nātyaśāstra. The gītaka or sacred hymns performed during the ritual dramatic prelude (pūrva-ranga) were defined in terms of tāla structure (see §4(ii) above), whereas the dhruvā stage-songs were classified according to their poetic metres. Later texts such as the Sangīta-ratnākara discuss composition-types (prabandha) from different regions of South Asia, from which many current types (classical and non-classical) may be descended. The prabandha are defined according to a variety of features, including text elements (words, epithets, non-lexical syllables and solmization or drum-syllables), metre, language, subject-matter, rāga, tāla etc. Some prabandha were also dance forms. Central concerns of prabandha theory are the relationship of melody (dhatu) to text (mātu) and of musical tāla to poetic metre.

Most prabandha comprised a number of musical sections corresponding to text lines or verses, often including a refrain (dhruvā). Refrain-forms permeated Indian vernacular song from the 7th century onwards, owing to the spread of devotional religious movements, in which responsorial singing is a central feature of ritual. The definition of a particular composition-type called dhruvā-prabandha (‘refrain-song’) in the Sangīta-ratnākara records for the first time a complex of four features that are common to major Hindustani and Karnatak vocal forms today: the arrangement of four melodic sections in the pattern ABCB'; repetition of part of section A as a refrain; a higher register in B and B' than in A and C; and inclusion of the name of the dedicatee (and/or of the composer) in the text of the final section (B').

Examples of Karnatak kīrtanam and Hindustani dhrupad compositions are set out in parallel in ex.13, showing how far they conform to this structure. They differ in all other respects (rāga, tāla, language, style, genre etc.), suggesting that the common structure is a deeply embedded, historically rooted and geographically widespread unifying factor. In the kīrtanam and dhrupad compositions, the four melodic sections correspond to four text lines (t1–t4), as shown in fig.7. Section A sets the first words of the text, which often encapsulate the theme of the poem and identify the song. This section is termed pallavi (the ‘germ’, ‘shoot’ of the song) or sthāyī (‘fixed’, i.e. refrain) in Karnatak and Hindustani music respectively. Melodically it stresses the lower tonic and lower register of the rāga, though it may range as far as the upper tonic or even beyond. In performance, this section, or a part of it, can itself be cyclically repeated, and it is the point of repeated departure and return.

The B section is termed anupallavi (Karnatak: ‘after the pallavi ’) or antarā (Hindustani: ‘intervening’) and is melodically more constrained than the A section. It begins with an ascent from the mid-range to the upper tonic, which is then stressed (see (1) in ex.13). Subsequent phrases develop the upper regions of the rāga, carrying the melody to its highest point so far (usually a strong note of the rāga in the lower tetrachord of the upper octave (see (2) in ex.13)). The final phrases of the section may return to the lower register and often echo the end of the A section in order to effect a smooth transition back to the beginning of the song ((3) in ex.13).

Hindustani khayāl, instrumental gat and many dhrupad compositions have only the A and B sections, and therefore conclude with this return to A. In longer dhrupad and most kīrtanam compositions, the C section develops the same register as A but usually stresses the fifth or fourth degree (depending on the rāga). The final section, B ', which follows immediately without any intervening reprise of A, returns to the upper pitch-areas as in B, to which it may be melodically similar or identical. In dhrupad these two last sections are regarded as separate units, called sañcāri and ābhog respectively. In kīrtanam they are considered to form a single section termed carana. The end of B ', like that of B, leads into a reprise of A, or its first phrase, with which performance of the composition ends.

This basic structure also exists in expanded and contracted forms. Karnatak kīrtanam or kriti compositions may include additonal carana, usually set to the same melody as the first. Occasional khayāl and thumrī compositions, and many Hindustani devotional songs (bhajan), have one or more additional antarā, sung to the B melody. By contrast, shorter dhrupad compositions, most khayāl and thumrī compositions and instrumental gat compositions comprise A and B sections only, and sometimes no more than the A section is actually performed (or the B section may be improvised). Some Karnatak kīrtanam comprise a pallavi followed by multiple carana, to the same or different melodies, while in rāgam-tānam-pallavī the composition comprises a pallavi only (see §(iv) below).

All these structures are intrinsically cyclic, with the first phrase of the A section as the point of departure and return. In Hindustani music this first phrase (sthāyī-mukhrā) can itself be cyclically repeated as many times as desired. Both B and B ' sections lead at their conclusion into a reprise of this phrase, and it will be returned to many times during any improvisation that follows the composition. The whole performance will end with this phrase. The opening phrase of the B section (antarā-mukhrā) may also be used as a refrain for part of the improvisation, if the performer wishes to improvise on the words or melody of that section, but the sthāyī-mukhrā normally returns. In Karnatak music there is greater variety in the choice of phrases for repetition as the basis for improvisation, but the pallavi remains the essential point of conclusion in all forms except the varnam (see below).

Individual segments of the composition may be immediately repeated, with or without variation, if the singer (or dancer) wishes to stress or improvise on the words and/or melody of that segment. A repeatable segment or phrase normally comprises one cycle of the tāla in slow tempo, two or four cycles at faster speeds. Repetition of individual phrases is an important feature of Karnatak music, where the majority of concert kriti compositions (as opposed to more devotional kīrtanam) are learnt with fixed and memorized variations called sangati. It is believed that phrase-repetition with elaborate sangati was instituted by Tyāgarāja (1767–1847). Since his time it has become standard practice, and many compositions by others (such as Muttusvāmi Dīksitar) have also been adorned, by later musicians, with sangati variations that are now considered indispensable.

Another type of repetition with pre-composed variation is where a complete section of a composition is repeated at faster or (less commonly) slower speeds against the tāla, through augmentation or diminution. The words, melody and rhythmic proportions remain intact. This device may be employed in the performance of Karnatak rāgam-tānam-pallavi and Hindustani dhrupad (see below).

Vocal compositions in Indian music and their realization in performance can thus be seen to embody several fundamental musical processes: cyclical returns to the beginning; change of melodic register in different sections of the composition, exploiting the various registral and thematic elements of the rāga; repetition of individual phrases with variations increasing in melodic complexity and rhythmic density; and changes in metrical relationship between melody and tāla. These processes can be further elaborated through improvisation.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 5: Theory and practice of classical music., Compositions, genres and performance of vocal music.

(ii) Improvisation on compositions.

Not only the underlying form of vocal compositions but also the basic types of nibaddha (‘constrained’) improvisation are prefigured in the Sangīta-ratnākara. The elaboration of a metrical composition (rūpakālapti) is said by Śārngadeva to comprise either of two processes: pratigrahanikā (‘reprising’) rūpakālapti, where after a phrase of rāga elaboration one returns to a phrase of the composition; or bhañjanī (‘breaking up’) rūpakālapti, where the text of the composition is sung many times, in part or whole, keeping the original rhythmic setting of the words but with ever new melodic phrases. Similar processes are still current in modern practice; in particular, the alternation of improvised episodes with periodic reprises of a phrase of the composition, usually the first, is a ubiquitous practice.

Śārngadeva's discussion of rāgālapti (see §3(ii)(b) above) and rūpakālapti in the Sangīta-ratnākara provides us with the first analysis of the processes of improvisation in South Asian music. There is also an indication of how these processes related to performance as a whole, in the description of a courtly dance-form, the Gaundalī (‘Gond woman's dance’). According to this description the performance of this dance began with the singing of the tonic (sthāyī) and the fourfold development of rāgālapti. A vocal composition (dhruvā-prabandha, see above) was then sung and danced in tāla with drum accompaniment. New melodic material (sthāya) was then introduced, interspersed with reprises of the refrain of the composition (dhruvā-khanda). The reprise was marked by vigorous drum playing and a sudden ‘freeze’ by the dancer at the crucial moment of return, a process familiar from modern kathak dance performances. This sequence of events – rāgālapti, composition, and (pratigrahanikā) rūpakālapti punctuated by returns to the refrain – underlies the major genres of rāga performance in both Karnatak and Hindustani music today.

(a) Returns to a given motif (pratigrahanikā).

Here a particular phrase of the composition, often the first, is repeated in alternation with passages of improvised melodic and/or rhythmic development. This process is used in all the styles in the ‘nibaddha’ column of Table 9 above. It underlies the bol-bat of dhrupad, the ālāp and tāns of khayāl, the bol banāo of thumrī, the torā of sitār /sarod playing and the kalpana svara of Karnatak music. Whatever the style and techniques employed, musical interest lies both in the melodic and rhythmic excursions of the improvisation and in the ingenuity with which the performer returns to the composition. The Hindi term for the motif to which the return is made is mukhrā (‘little face’); it is normally the first phrase of the sthāyī. In ex.3 above, for instance, ‘sapane-mẽ ā-’ is the mukhrā; it has two parts, comprising the point of arrival at ‘ā’ and the phrase leading up to that point, which is, properly speaking, the mukhrā. The point of arrival is called sam (‘together’), where both melodic and rhythmic elements finally coalesce at a single point. In ex.2 above the mukhrā is ‘hajarata’, and the sam is on ‘to’. As is illustrated here, in Hindustani vocal music, and especially in slow khayāl, a precisely measured-out duration is not always essential to the mukhrā, the musical function of which is as a lead-in or lead-back. In rendering the slow khayāl in rāga Darbārī Kānadā, for instance, phrases of unpulsed improvised ālāp would fill most of each long time cycle (transcribed here as 12 whole-note values); the singer will slip into a pulsed phrase as he comes back to ‘hajarata’, making sure only to catch it far enough ahead of the sam to allow time for an elegantly shaped approach to and arrival at ‘to’.

The tān of Hindustani fast khayāl are free bravura passages sung on an open vowel. In tān singing, some flexibility as to the amount of the mukhrā actually used or the point at which it begins, or both, is again possible; the tān must conclude and some rhythmically elegant mukhrā should be heard, but the only irreducible metric requirement is that the sam be reached with the first count of the time cycle. Sometimes tān may lead right to the sam, dispensing with the mukhrā altogether. The mukhra can be treated with similar flexibility in dhrupad (and especially dhamār) laykārī improvisation (see below).

In Hindustani instrumental music the principal type of free passage between returns of the mukhrā is called torā (‘break’, also ‘bracelet, necklace’). A torā is a plucking pattern for the right hand combined with pitch-changing movements of the left hand. A torā differs from a tān in that it has some sort of definite rhythmic shape, whereas a tān is passage-work in fast but equal note values. A torā often concludes with a culminating cadential passage repeated three times in sequence, called tihāī (‘threefold’). The tihāī must be timed in such a way that it concludes on the beat before the mukhrā, or at the beginning of the mukhrā, or the sam itself. Tihāī can also be used in dhrupad and is an important feature of dance performance.

The flexibility of beginning point and emphasis on arrival point in the Hindustani mukhrā is reversed in Karnatak music. A line of the composition (not necessarily the first) is chosen, and free improvisation is required to lead directly, naturally, but also precisely to the first part of the phrase, which then may or may not proceed to a strong arrival point (arudi). Ex.14 illustrates one of the characteristic specialities of Karnatak music. It shows sample phrases of kalpana svara (‘improvised svara’) attached to the first line of the composition partly transcribed in ex.9, Vēnugānalōluni, rāga Kedāragaula (see §2(iv) above). The firmly fixed point is the actual beginning of the line of the composition, ‘Vēnu-gāna-’, which is called its etuppu (‘taking up’). The etuppu is a specific svara of the rāga, falling at a specific point in the tāla; here it is the second degree (d) in rāga Kedāragaula, coming on the second half of the first beat in fast-tempo of Rūpaka tāla. There are only a few ways this point can be approached in Kedāragaula; in fact, the last three degrees of a kalpana svara passage could lead to this motif beginning at d only by going e–d–c–e (as in ex.14), g–f–e–d or f–e–c–d (following g or d). The time-point for the etuppu here, just after the first count, is the norm for fast Rūpaka tāla; the final approach to the etuppu with an odd number of attacks (five in this and most cases) is the norm for all tālas. The low initial pitch and immediate upward continuation of the composition's opening demand a basically descending line in each final approach. The requirements of the rāga Kedāragaula (see §2(iv) above) determine the specific possibilities of melodic configuration in the kalpana svara throughout.

Two general techniques of pratigrahanikā improvisation are illustrated in ex.14. First of all, a fixed formula at the end is preceded by an ever longer and more elaborate build-up. Also characteristic is the use of the threefold cadential rhythmic sequence at the ends of longer passages, called morā in Karnatak music. In the transcription's semiquaver durations, the third of the sample kalpana svara ends sequentially with unit durations of 4 + 4 + 5 pulses. The fourth passage ends 6 + 6 + 5, with a rhythm that is one of many possible rhythms for a standard mrdangam cadential formula (tadinginatom, see §6 below). The drummer would probably be expecting this formula and would certainly join in in time for the second and third members of the sequence. (Hindustani musicians sometimes improvise with svara syllables and with other non-textual syllables (bol) in compositions that use them, but seldom with tight linkage to a precise time-point or the control of rhythmic pattern that is essential to the modern south Indian technique.)

(b) Repetition with variation (bhañjanī).

Here a particular phrase or section of the composition is repeated one or more times. The words and rhythm of the segment remain intact, but the melody is varied. This process has resulted, in the Karnatak kriti, in variations (sangati) that have become fixed and are transmitted and performed as part of the composition itself. A related Karnatak technique, but improvised, is niraval (‘filling up’). A single line of text from the composition – occupying one cycle of a slow tāla, two or four in a fast one – is sung repeatedly, quite closely following the original rhythmic distribution of text syllables but with melodic phrases appropriate to the rāga supplied by the performer. In practice the effect is much like that of kalpana svara: the improvisation of niraval must lead back to the beginning of the original setting at the proper time-point and svara position, and it proceeds at two speeds, first with several cycles at the basic pulse, then a number of cycles at double time. The rendering of compositions in south Indian music is frequently embellished by niraval followed by kalpana svara attached to the same line of the composition, or by one or the other. The first line of a composition is rarely chosen for niraval but often for kalpana svara alone.

The bhañjanī type of variation does not occur as such in Hindustani music. In slow khayāl the unpulsed ālāp is often done using the words of the khayāl composition rather than the open vowel, in which case it is called bol-ālāp, but the rhythm is very flexible within the tāla. The singing of tān on bol (the words of the composition) rather than on the open vowel is called bol-tān, and is the nearest equivalent to south Indian niraval, although in most khayāl styles it is again very flexible rhythmically. The term bol-tān is sometimes confused with the very similar bol-bat (partition or distribution of the words); bol-bat belongs to the dhrupad style, but is also used in some khayāl styles. Like bol-tān it uses words from the composition to carry improvised phrases of the rāga, but the text and music phrases are syllabic, not melismatic, and the emphasis is on interesting rhythmic combination.

The laya-bat of dhrupad and the anuloma-pratiloma of rāgam-tānam-pallavi maintain the melody and rhythmic proportions of the composition, but they change the rhythmic relationship of the melody and text-syllables to the tāla through diminution and augmentation. This type of manipulation of the composition is not improvised.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 5: Theory and practice of classical music., Compositions, genres and performance of vocal music.

(iii) Genres and performance: Hindustani music.

To a greater extent than in the south, north Indian vocalists distinguish a number of genres each with its proper composition-type, vocal style, techniques of improvisation, aesthetic objectives and other features. The principal genres are dhrupad, khayāl and thumrī, though there are a number of related genres or sub-genres. Most vocalists take at least some training in all three principal genres but specialize in one or two. Khayāl singers often sing thumrī as an encore, but it is unusual for a dhrupad singer to sing khayāl or vice versa, because of the very different vocal techniques required.

(a) Dhrupad.

Dhrupad compositions are believed to be the oldest part of the Hindustani repertory, with some attributed to Tānsen and other historical figures (see §II, above) still in circulation. Likewise the associated performance practice is regarded as older than that of khayāl and thumrī, which developed in the 18th and 19th centuries respectively. Consequently dhrupad is valued by its proponents for its authenticity of structure (correct rendering of intonation, rāga and tāla and complete and accurate rendering of the composition), stylistic purity (full-throated voice production, restriction of ornamentation and improvisation to a limited number of techniques) and elevated purpose (addressed to the Divine and to connoisseurs, not compromising with popular taste). Having never enjoyed widespread popularity or understanding since its heyday in Mughal times, dhrupad became all but extinct in the mid-20th century. Its revival in the latter part of the century was a surprisingly vigorous phenomenon.

A dhrupad poem is usually in the Braj dialect of Hindi (used for devotional hymnody) and comprises two or four rhyming lines, set to two or four melodic sections (described above). Although in earlier times almost any subject, sacred or secular, could be treated in dhrupad, it has come to be associated particularly with devotional or philosophical subjects, including both Hindu and Islamic themes. Consequently dhrupad is regarded by its exponents as a more sacred art than other Hindustani genres. Dhrupad compositions are found in almost all rāgas, but only in certain tālas (see Table 13). Of these, Cautāl is the most common, but sub-genres exist using Dhamār (for dhamār compositions describing the Holī spring festival as celebrated by Krsna), Jhaptāl (especially for Sufi mystical songs called sādrā), and Sūltāl and Tīvra (for fast-tempo songs usually in praise of deities). The accompaniment for dhrupad is properly provided by the barrel-drum pakhāvaj rather than the tablā. Other accompanying instruments include the tambūrā drone lute and, optionally, a bowed lute sārangī and/or harmonium (avoided by some performers).

The vocal style of dhrupad is based on voice production from the diaphragm, smooth glissandi and other pitch-inflections, and avoidance of any rapid fioritura that requires constriction of the throat. Dhrupad singers need voices able to compete with the powerful resonance of the accompanying pakhāvaj – one reason, perhaps, why dhrupad singers are usually male and often perform in pairs.

A dhrupad performance in concert context usually begins with an extended nom-tom ālāp (see §3(ii)(c) above), which may last 30 minutes or more and demonstrates the artist's insight into the structure and aesthetic of the rāga. The composition is then presented in a dignified rhythmic style (see §4(iv) above). If it is in slow tempo, it may be followed by one or more further compositions in different tālas and faster tempo.

Elaboration of the composition in dhrupad is termed bat (‘division’), upaj (‘invention’), or laya-kārī (‘making (different) rhythmic densities’). The performer's options are considerably more restricted than in khayāl (see below), since he must always use the words of the composition, and only two basic procedures are permitted, sometimes termed laya-bat and bol-bat. In laya-bat, a section of the composition is sung with its time values systematically reduced to a half, a third or a quarter of their original length; that is to say, it is sung as dugun, tigun or caugun laya (see §4(i) above). No other material change and no element of improvisation is involved. More complex proportional diminutions are referred to in literature but never heard in practice.

According to some authorities, these calculated rhythmic manipulations of the composition were all the variation that was originally allowed in the performance of Cautāl dhrupad compositions. In dhamār, the lighter sub-genre sung by dhrupad musicians, a freer style of variation is considered appropriate. The musicians can improvise new rhythmic and melodic settings of the syllables of the poem, repeating phrases, words and even syllables as desired, at any level of laya, provided only that the structures of rāga and tāla are respected. This reflects the frolicsome character of the spring Saturnalia described in dhamār texts. This free upaj or bol-bat is now also often performed in Cautāl and other dhrupad sub-genres, reflecting the strong preference for improvised variation that is a hallmark of contemporary Hindustani musical culture. So strong a preference is it that the fixed laya-bat is often omitted altogether.

Inbol-bat the essential requirement is for the vocalist and pakhāvaj accompanist (who improvises simultaneously with the vocalist) to return to the beginning of the composition, arriving together at the sam, the first beat of the tāla cycle. If the composition begins with mukhrā leading to sam, this must be worked into the final moments of each improvisation, though it may be expanded or compressed rhythmically if required. Thus the cyclicity inherent in both the tāla and the composition is further reflected in the pratigrahanikā-type improvisation.

(b) Khayāl.

The second main genre of Hindustani music, khayāl, had almost completely eclipsed dhrupad by the mid-20th century. The ethos of khayāl is one of stylistic variety and freedom of improvisation (khayāl means ‘imagination, fantasy’) as opposed to the strictness of dhrupad. Nevertheless, many features of dhrupad have been taken into khayāl performance. Depending on the gharānā, khayāl performance may resemble dhrupad quite closely (especially in the Agra gharānā) or diverge from it more or less radically. Khayāl texts are normally in Hindi and comprise only two rhyming, unmetred lines, corresponding to the musical sthāyī and antarā sections (see §(i) above). They range over a wide variety of love themes, often expressed in a feminine persona and including the amorous adventures of Krsna or those of the emperor, and devotion to a lover or to a Muslim holy man. There are three varieties of khayāl distinguished by tempo: slow (vilambit), also known as ‘big’ (barā) khayāl, medium (madhya) khayāl and fast (drut) or ‘small’ (chotā) khayāl. A slow khayāl is always followed by a fast khayāl, but a medium-tempo or a fast khayāl may be sung alone as an independent item. Only the more serious rāgas are employed in khayāl, since light rāgas will be sung in thumrī style. The typical tālas are different from those employed in dhrupad and include Ektāl, Jhūmrā, Tilvādā and Tīntāl for slow compositions, Ektāl, Tīntāl, Jhaptāl, Rūpak and Ādā-cautāl in medium and fast compositions. Khayāl is accompanied by tablā, tambūrā and often sārangī and/or harmonium.

The vocal style of khayāl is characterized by a type of fioritura called tān, in which a rapid sequence of pitches, or repetitions of the same pitch, is sung to a single text syllable or to the vowel ‘ā’. This technique, and other ornaments involving rapid movement used in khayāl, require a greater tension of the throat muscles than is permitted in dhrupad. The style is reproduced on the sitār by rapid deflections of the string with the stopping finger, so that an elaborate sequence of pitches is produced from one stroke (see §6 below).

A khayāl performance usually dispenses with the opening nom-tom ālāp of dhrupad; a few phrases may be sufficient to introduce the rāga before the composition is commenced. The composition may be sung in its entirety at this point, or the second section (antarā) may be postponed until later. The tāla is indicated by the tablā, which plays a more or less embellished form of the cyclically repeated basic drum-pattern (thekā) for the tāla in question. If the tempo is slow, the singer's rhythm may be very free, necessarily coinciding with the drum only at the first beat (sam) of the tāla. At medium and fast tempo the rhythmic style is less melismatic (see §4(iv) above).

Improvisation on the composition involves departing from and repeatedly returning to the first phrase of the composition, the mukhrā, which includes beat 1 of the first complete cycle of the composition but often starts with an anacrusis. The tempo gradually increases, and different styles and techniques of melodic and rhythmic improvisation are introduced at appropriate tempos. In slow khayāl the first stage of improvisation is normally that called ālāp or barhat (‘expansion’). This closely resembles the slow ālāp of dhrupad in its gradual unfolding of the rāga phrases and the quasi-unpulsed rhythm of the vocalist. However, here the tablā maintains the tāla throughout, using the thekā, and the singer uses syllables from the composition and/or vocalization to ‘ā’ rather than the nom-tom syllables of dhrupad ālāp. Where in dhrupad ālāp the singer makes periodic returns to the mohrā of the rāga, here he returns to the mukhrā of the composition. In both cases this re-establishes rhythmic congruence after a period of ambiguity. At the climax of the ālāp where the upper tonic is reached, the antarā of the composition may be introduced (or reintroduced), since this section of the composition always begins with an ascent to the upper tonic.

The quasi-free rhythm of the ālāp may be followed by more rhythmic improvisation using the words of the composition, in a style more or less close to the bol-bat of dhrupad. Other options include sargam, where each of a sequence of pitches is sung to its appropriate solmization syllable (sa, re, ga etc.; see Table 1 above). Finally, improvised passages of tān are introduced. These bravura passages may be sung either with or (in slow khayāl) without clear reference to the underlying pulse. Many kinds of tān are distinguished by separate names, such as sapāt tān (‘smooth’, i.e. straight, scalar passages), phirat tān (‘returning’, i.e. involuted passages), gamak tān (passages sung with a heavy shake on each degree) and so on. Tān may be sung to ‘ā’ (ākār tān) or with syllables of the song-text (bol-tān). As before, each tān passage must return to the mukhrā of the composition, leading to beat 1 of the tāla.

If the tempo was initially slow, the fast-tempo ‘small’ khayāl will be introduced at this point, to be followed with more tān and other fast-tempo improvisation. The development of this composition is much shorter than that of the ‘big’ khayāl. A medium-tempo khayāl may be elaborated with all the stages of improvisation and without any following fast-tempo composition.

Of the several other types of composition performed by khayāl singers, the most distinctive is the tarānā. The texts employ a special set of non-lexical syllables, such as ‘tom ta na na, u dāna dīm, dere na, dira dira’ and ‘yalalī yalā’. Sometimes drum syllables or dance syllables are incorporated. The various syllable combinations lend themselves to rhythmic improvisatory permutations at very fast speeds. Sometimes a tarānā includes a line or two of Persian text, and it seems more than probable that the present genre originated from ecstatic Sufi songs using cryptic expressions in Persian such as ‘tū dānī’ (‘thou knowest’) and Shī‘a cries like ‘yā alī’ (‘O Ali’). Ma‘danu‘l-mūsīqī alludes to tarānā as an item performed before khayāl (rather than ālāp) by members of the Qavvāl community, although in current practice it is sung as a medium- or fast-tempo khayāl by classical singers. The word tarānā itself is merely Persian for ‘song’. Tarānā is one of the Hindustani genres that has been enthusiastically adopted in south India, where it is called tillānā. Tillānā compositions are used both in concerts and in dance recitals, as light items for the last portions of a programme.

(c) Thumrī.

The third main style of Hindustani classical music is embodied in the compositions called thumrī, developed in Lucknow in the 18th and 19th centuries, and later in Banāras (see also §IV, 1 below). The texts are extremely short and characterized by the mādhurya bhāva (‘sweet sentiment’) of erotic love. Thumrī has sthāyī and antarā divisions like khayāl but is rendered in a much more elaborately florid and perhaps rather sentimental manner. The main tempo is slow, but towards the end there is a section in a fast time cycle in which the singer repeats the first line indefinitely to keep the time while the tablā player plays virtuoso solo passages called laggī; the conclusion is again at the slow tempo. Thumrī has its own slow time cycles (see Tables 13 and 14) and its own rather small number of rāgas, which are found in dhrupad but hardly ever used in khayāl. The chief thumrī rāgas are Pīlū Khamāj, Kāfī, Jogiyā and, above all, Bhairavī. Whatever the rāga, phrases and elements from other rāgas are often mixed in (hence designations like miśra [‘mixed’] Khamāj and miśra Kāfī), sometimes to the extent that only the refrain belongs to the same rāga throughout. Dādrā compositions in the fast dādrā tāla also use thumrī rāgas.

Renditions of thumrī rāgas in thumrī style are now used as concluding items in most concert programmes, both instrumental and vocal. Furthermore, bhajan (popular devotional poetry) is now often sung in some of the very popular thumrī rāgas by musicians who like these rāgas but do not handle the thumrī style easily, or who prefer not to sing the somewhat erotic thumrī texts; this practice was begun by Vishnu Digambar Paluskar (1872–1931).

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 5: Theory and practice of classical music., Compositions, genres and performance of vocal music.

(iv) Genres and performance: Karnatak music.

Compositions play a much more central role in concerts of Karnatak music than they do in Hindustani music. The oldest south Indian compositions that probably retain some of their original musical settings are the padam compositions of Ksetrayya, used for the south Indian classical temple dance now called bharata-nātyam. They are devotional texts, mostly in the mādhurya (‘erotic’) mode, and sung in a rather slow tempo that gives the dancer ample time to illustrate and elaborate the text with the stylized gestures of abhinaya. A few Karnatak rāgas are considered too vigorous for padam – they are called ghana (‘heavy’) and are especially suitable for tānam improvisation (see §3(ii)(d) above) – but most of the well-known rāgas are used in padam. Some of the smaller and more melodious rāgas particularly good for padam are called rakti (‘emotional’) rāgas. Jāvalī, a small-scale and lightly erotic genre sung in rather fast tempos, also uses rakti rāgas.

In the mid-18th century probably the most important compositional form was the varnam, which unlike other genres has two completely independent sections. The opening pallavi is followed by a rhyming anupallavi, the two being related to one another as are the sthāyī and antarā of Hindustani music (see §(i) above). Following the anupallavi comes a passage sung first with its svara syllables and then with a sāhitya (text), followed by a return to the pallavi. Then a caranam (stanza) is sung; the caranam itself serves as a refrain for several passages of svara-sāhitya like that following the anupallavi, and the varnam concludes with the last return to the caranam. Uniquely in the varnam, there is never a final return to the opening section, the pallavi.

Varnam compositions are of two kinds; pada varnam is for dance and is the major item of a bharata-nātyam recital; tāna varnam is for singing (or playing), and the extra passages following the anupallavi and caranam are sung with svara syllables only. Traditionally a varnam is sung as the first item of every concert; otherwise, they are regarded as advanced study pieces, from which many important rāga configurations are learnt. The verbal texts of tāna varnam are short and floridly set; the individual svara in the pulsed melismas are sung in a distinctly emphatic and separated fashion unique to the tāna varnam.

The most important modern south Indian type of composition is the kīrtanam. A kīrtanam used as a concert piece and endowed with composed variations (sangati, cittasvara) is often called a kriti. In essence a kīrtanam is a simple devotional song for group singing, comprising a short refrain, the pallavi, sung by the whole group, and a number of stanzas, the caranam, for the leader or for individual members of the group. The pallavi is sung in a low register and the caranam in the upper register. Kīrtanam like this, including many composed and used by Tyāgarāja for his own devotions, are still sung as bhajana (devotional songs).

Even the simplest kīrtanam, however, usually have besides pallavi and multiple caranam an anupallavi, following and rhyming with the pallavi, set to a contrasting melody in the upper register. Many simple devotional kīrtanam have anupallavi and caranam in the same tune. In a more complex kīrtanam the full ABCB' structure of kriti and dhrupad is observed (see §(i) above). In the typical design of the small concert kriti, the pallavi and anupallavi have one line each, while each caranam has two lines (sometimes four). A larger kriti normally has two lines in the pallavi, two lines in the anupallavi and four or more lines in the caranam; normally only one caranam is used for a large kriti.

Ex.8 above shows the basic melodies of the whole of Tyāgarāja's ‘Gītārthamu’, a song of 2 + 2 + 4 lines (= tāla cycles) treated as a moderately substantial concert piece. As mentioned above, any individual line of a composition may be enlarged with a succession of memorized variations called sangati. Omitted from ex.8 are whole sets of sangati for the first half-line (‘gītârthamu sangītânandamu’ etc.), and for both lines of the anupallavi; only the returns to the pallavi are indicated, to show the overall shape and continuity in performance. As is common, the first two lines of the caranam revert to the register of the pallavi, but with a different melody focussing on the 5th scale degree, while the last two lines (from ‘hari vara rūpudu’) have the same tune as the anupallavi.

Also contributing to the expansion of many kīrtanam compositions into elaborate concert kriti is the use of a tempo slower than the brisk pace appropriate to a devotional group song. The slow tempo permits the stylish transformation of a square text rhythm into a gracefully varied and elegant musical rhythm. The underlying rhythmic unit of ‘Gītārthamu ’ at slow speed is represented in ex.8 as a quaver, making four beats to a minim count, eight counts in the time cycle. The long and short quantities in the text syllables can be regarded as doubled in value, the proportion being thought of as 4:2 rather than 2:1, which allows plenty of room for subtle rhythmic shifts of attack position. One sees that a value of 4 in a long syllable of the text can be replaced in the music by values of anything from 2 (in ‘dzūda’) to 6 (in ‘sam’); the duration of the short syllables can be reckoned on the same scale as being either 2 or 1. Among the rhythmic niceties made possible by this process is the reduction of the two longs of ‘gītā’ and ‘sītā’ and the four shorts of ‘hari-hara’ and ‘hari vara’ to a series of hemiolas, by squeezing them from two counts into one and a half. The etuppu (the time-point of each line beginning) is thereby shifted forward to the third beat of the first count, which in turn means that the ending of each line is carried across the first count before the next line is begun. The increased momentum thus given to line repetitions and variations, to continuations and to returns to the opening, contributes greatly to the unity of the composition as well as to its surface effect.

Ex.7 above, the pallavi and anupallavi of a kīrtanam by Muttusvāmi Dīksitar, illustrates a rhythmic technique of a different kind, intrinsic to the basic structure of the composition rather than superimposed upon it. The musical rhythms are precisely based on the syllabic quantities of the text, but two tempos are used. The basic tempo is represented by ‘budham āśrayāmi satatam’, while ‘sura-vinutam candra-tārā sutam’ goes at twice the speed. In the anupallavi the passage ‘madhura … sampadam’ is also at double time, called madhyama-kāla (‘medium speed’). Madhyama-kāla conclusions to sections are a constant feature of Dīksitar's compositions, and in some cases very complex text–music devices are employed in their construction.

A programme of Karnatak music will normally comprise a sequence of compositions in different rāgas and different forms: mainly kriti or kīrtanam, with perhaps a varnam to begin and a tillānā or bhajan to end. The extent of improvised elaboration will vary, some compositions being rendered with no more variation than the fixed sangati. Usually one item, often a large kriti, is elaborately developed, beginning with an extended ālāpanam. Some improvised niraval and/or svara-kalpana may be included during the rendition of the composition, and more may follow. The variety of improvisation techniques used and the extent of elaboration applied is limited, however, by the perception that the music is at root devotional, and the expression of the words should be enhanced, not overshadowed, by purely musical development. Full scope for abstract musical development is allowed only in the genre rāgam-tānam-pallavī, which may be performed as the centrepiece of a recital if time permits.

The performance of rāgam-tānam-pallavī, or pallavi for short, developed at the 18th- and 19th-century courts, beginning with the mid-18th-century Thanjavur musician Pachimiliam Ādiyappayya. It was and is the supreme test of a musician's skill in improvisation. The composed element is reduced to a single short section, the pallavi; there are no anupallavi or caranam as in other forms. The pallavi itself has a special structure, comprising two phrases separated by a short rest; the first phrase is repeated to conclude the melody. Usually the pallavi incorporates a technical challenge. It may be composed in an unusual rāga or tāla, or the two phrases may move at different speeds against the tāla. Two examples of pallavi melody are given in ex.15. The first is composed in an otherwise unknown tāla comprising successively shorter anga; in the second, set to miśra Cāpu tāla, the pattern of the tāla is presented in the first phrase at double speed, resulting in a highly syncopated rhythm. Such melodies were invented and proffered as challenges to court musicians by their patrons or rivals. The challenge was not only to repeat the pallavi immediately but also then to perform a complete rāgam-tānam-pallavī improvisation on it, lasting perhaps an hour (Catlin, 1985).

The elaboration of a pallavi begins with an extended unmetred ālāpanam, called rāgam in this context, in which the motivic material of the rāga is developed in all registers (see §3(ii)(d) above). When the soloist has completed this development, the violin accompanist is usually given an opportunity to play an ālāpanam independently. Then follows the tānam, where, as in the medium-tempo ālāp of dhrupad or the jor of a sitār solo, the rāga is unfolded against a steady but unmetred pulse (often articulated as a lightly pulsed drone by the violin). The pallavi melody is then introduced, and the percussion accompanist(s) (playing the barrel-drum mrdangam and optional instruments such as the pot drum ghatam) participate from this point on. Extended and elaborate niraval and svara-kalpana improvisations, by the soloist and the violin accompanist alternately, may also include the augmentation-diminution procedures known as anuloma and pratiloma, where the tāla is kept constant, and the composition is sung at faster or slower speeds (cf the lay-bat of dhrupad), or the composition is sung at a constant tempo and the tāla clapped at different speeds against it. A sequence of three or more progressive augmentations or diminutions may be termed trikāla (‘three time-reckonings’). Other variation procedures include a korappu, dialogue between the soloist and accompanists, in which the latter imitate immediately each phrase improvised by the former; and korvai, a pre-composed episode of complex rhythm played by all performers in unison. The performance ends with a final reprise of the pallavi, but this is normally preceded by tāni āvartanam, an extended percussion solo (or dialogue if there is more than one percussionist) in a number of episodes leading to a climax. The soloist must keep time for the percussionists by showing the tāla with the hand and must reintroduce the pallavi melody at exactly the right moment. Thus the underlying principle of pratigrahanikā -type improvisation, the return to the composition after improvised episodes, here becomes the final challenge of the pallavi performance.

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music.

6. Instrumental traditions.

South Asian instruments are classically arranged into four groups: tata (‘stretched’) are chordophones; susira (‘tubular’) are aerophones; avanaddha (‘covered’) are membranophones; and ghana (‘solid’) are idiophones. This section discusses the instrumental repertories of Hindustani and Karnatak music; organological information is found under each instrument’s individual entry. It should be noted that many of the instruments below are also used in local, devotional and popular traditions.

(i) Chordophones.

(ii) Aerophones.

(iii) Membranophones.

(iv) Idiophones.

(v) Ensembles.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 6: Theory and practice of classical music., Instrumental traditions.

(i) Chordophones.

The general term for a chordophone in Sanskrit music literature has been vīnā (see Vīnā, §§1–2). Today this term designates the Karnatak vīnā (a plucked, fretted lute sometimes called Sarasvatī-vīnā), while bīn refers to the Hindustani vīnā (a plucked, fretted stick zither) associated with the dhrupad tradition (Table 15). Both of these instruments have a fretless counterpart, the gottuvādyam and vicitrā vīnā respectively, the string being stopped with a sliding block. The plucked lutes of Hindustani music are the fretted sitār (and its larger counterpart, the sūrbahār), the fretless sarod (and its forerunner the rabāb) and the drone lute tambūrā (also used in Karnatak music).

Bowed lutes in south Asia, the fretless sārangī and violin and (uncommonly) the fretted dilrubā and esrāj, were traditionally accompanying instruments. The violin was predominant in the south and the sārangī in the north; both now appear on concert platforms as solo instruments. The santūr, a struck box zither, was until recently restricted to the sūfiāna mūsīqī of Kashmir but is now being used to perform Hindustani music. Hindustani and Karnatak musicians have also adopted instruments originating from outside south Asia. In addition to the violin mentioned above, there are notable performers on the guitar and the mandolin.

TABLE 15: Principal south Asian string instruments

		Hindustani	Carnatic


	drone		tamburā	tamburā
	fretted		bīn	vīnā
plucked	fretted				sitar (and surbahar)
	fretless		vicitra (mahātī) vīnā	gottuvādyam
					*rabāb
				(sūr śringār)
				sarod
			sārangī
	fretless		violin	violin
bowed				(sārindā)
	fretted		(dilrubāa and esrāj)


*the plucked ‘Afghan’ rabāb, not the bowed kemānche-like one

(a) Vīnā and bīn.

A south Indian vīnā performance consists of several discrete musical items varying in duration from five minutes to an hour or more. Each musical item starts with ālāpana, during which no tāla operates and there is no percussion accompaniment; the tāla strings are struck for occasional timbral contrast with the melody strings. In longer musical items, ālāpana is followed by tāna, in which rhythmic patterns are built up by alternating strokes on the tāla and melody strings. In the compositions and subsequent improvisations that follow tāna, a tāla operates and the mrdangam (barrel drum) provides a percussion accompaniment. In this context, the tāla strings are struck to mark the main beats of the tāla only (for example in Ādi tāla – comprising 8 beats – they are struck on 1, 5 and 7). In the Mysore vīnā tradition this is strictly adhered to, though elsewhere, because of the influence of Hindustani sitār technique, innovators may tend to mark every beat of the tāla.

The bulk of the repertory comprises Kriti. The right-hand strokes (on the melody strings) of the vīnā represent the consonants of the song text. When a kriti is performed, lines of the song text are repeated (from four to 16 or more times) with progressive melodic development. Two consistent features of such development are the gradual increase in rhythmic density and the extension of the range of pitch movement, which build up excitement and tension in the listener. On the vīnā, this involves the left arm moving faster and farther up and down the neck. Towards the end of such developments the tension is released by alternating this material with a contrasting line of melody/song text, followed by a return to the first rendering of the original line. Spontaneous improvisation may occur within this, and wholly improvised items of repertory (pallavi) follow the same cyclical form.

The northern vīnā, or bīn (fig.8), is played by performers of Dhrupad, particularly in ālāp. Many of the techniques of portamento and the use of the cikāri (punctuating) strings used in the performance of ālāp, jor and jhālā (see below) originated in bīn technique. The bīn is also played in metric compositions with the pakhāvaj (barrel drum), but the subordination of instrumental to vocal style has resulted in an absence of distinctively instrumental compositional styles.

(b) Sitār and sarod.

The two main classical Sitār repertories, or bāj, comprising styles of metric composition (gāt) and associated performing practices, were established during the 18th century. The Delhi bāj is based on a style attributed to Masit Khan of the 18th century Mughal capital. His descendants later moved to Rajasthani courts, and the style is also called ‘western’ (pachāo, pachva), or masītkhānī. The masītkhānī performing style was dhrupad -influenced, with rabāb - and bīn -derived ālāp (introductory section), jor, thak and jhālā metric variational practices, including melodic or rhythmic transformation of the gat (sīdhī-ārī) and augmentation-diminution (thā-dūn), similar to dhrupad bāt (the tablā thekā for slow tīntāl in 19th-century Bengali sources is markedly like that of the pakhāvaj).

The ‘eastern’ (pūrab) or razākhānī bāj is attributed to Ghulam Raza Khan of Lucknow. The razākhānī style is probably closer to the sitār tanbūr than the dhrupad tradition: the ‘light’ rāgas that form part of it (such as Kāfi, Pīlū, Khamāj and Bhairavī) are melodically similar to Central Asian tunes. Performing practice included augmentation-diminution (thā-dūn), cross-string plucking (cher) and short stretches of melodic passage work (khucrā tān or upaj) derived from khayāl song and often improvised.

The terms masītkhānī and razākhānī, applied to gat, denote skeletal rhythmic plucking structures (slow and fast respectively) rather than specific melodic compositions by Masit Khan and Raza Khan. The most common razākhānī type begins on the 7th beat; some such compositions predate Raza Khan and are attributed in tradition (especially those in rāga Kāfī) to Amir Khusrau and may relate to sūfiāna rang. They were extended by 18th-century sitār players such as the brothers Lād Khān and Pyār Khān. There is a greater underlying similarity in the plucking rhythm of the first lines of the two gat types than is apparent today, when the tempo difference may be 8:1 or more; traditional sitār players, however, still refer to the two as dhīmā (‘moderate’) and dūnī (‘double’). Older gat from this period are often in two lines, corresponding to the sthāyī and mañjhā, not sthāyī and antarā, of the modern style. The mañjhā line is created in masītkhānī gat by triple repetition of the first sub-bar, comparable to the gat-dohrā (‘theme and doubling’) of Delhi tablā; the antarā is probably a later development influenced by vocal forms and created here by rhythmic imitation of the first two lines into the upper octave. Razākhānī gat shows more variety. The emerging classical gat repertory of the 18th century represents different stylizations of common material. This shows some affinity with the instrumental ‘teahouse’ music of north Afghanistan and Central Asia.

Table 16 represents the forms played in the modern sitār repertory. It displays the two movements (ālāp and gat-torā), principal sections (ālāp, slow and fast gat) and subordinate sections (jor and jhālā). Some optional procedures are grouped beneath each section. Full performances include all sections (1–6); shorter ones omit some (especially 2, 3 and 6). The introductory ālāp sometimes occurs alone, but normally elements of both ālāp and gat-torā are included; the order of sections is always maintained. Change to a related rāga sometimes occurs, while rāga-mālā (‘garland of rāgas’) with extemporized changes of mode is quite popular. A prastārikā (‘medley’) of gat in several tāla is now rare. The usual term for the complete performance is rāg, though the term gat was formerly used in this sense.

TABLE 16: Schematic representation of rāga form for the sitār

Ālāp	Gat-torā (with tāl)


1	2	3	4	5	6
a āocār ālāp	jor	jhālā	slow gat	fast gat	jhālā
b vistār alāp
c bandhan ālāp
			barhat
			bahlāvā	bahlāvā
antarā			antarā	antarā
			chand	tān
			boltān	boltān
		thonk	tārparan	tārparan
		cher	cherchār	cherchār
			ārī-kuārī
tān (muhrā)		tān	tān
			tīhāī	tīhāī
			āmad	āmad
			sīdhī-ārī	thā-dūn
				savāl-javāb
				sāth-sangat

The first section (ālāp) is devoted to the exposition of the mode through various techniques primarily derived from vocal music, above all portamento (miir), which is achieved through string deflection. Ālāp is without metre (tāla) or drum accompaniment and is always molto cantando. Āocār ālāp (1(a); uccār: ‘pronouncement’) is a brief announcement of the rāga through a few characteristic phrases, such as the pakar (Hindi: ‘catch’), and may lead directly to gat (4 or 5). Phrasal ālāp of various kinds (1(c); Hindi bandhān: ‘bound’; Urdu qāid: ‘strict’) comprises more extended development of such phrases centring on strong tones of the mode – the tonic (sa), melodic centre (vādī), secondary centre (samvādī) and often also the 5th (pa) or 4th (ma) degree of the scale. In 1(b), vistār or bistār (‘extended’) ālāp, these features of the rāga are elaborated in slow, rigorous developments through low, middle and upper octaves. In the middle octave, each note is introduced in turn in ascending scale order, and the development of each note is concluded by a rhythmic cadence (muhrā: ‘coming forward’). This form reflects the bīn–sūrbahār repertories; a generation ago a sitāriyā (sitār player) could play vistār of a rāga on the sūrbahār and then its gat-torā on the sitār tuned a 4th or a 5th higher. Ālāp -type development may also occur in gat sections (4, 5). In slow gat (4), vistār-type extension called barhat (‘increase’) or ālāpī is performed in free tempo against slow tablā metre. This feature is again relatively modern and derived from khayāl; in both khayāl and sitār performance it would follow an introductory āocār ālāp. Short phrasal ālāp occurring in gat sections is bahlāvā (‘divertissement’).

In jor (2; ‘joining’) and jhālā (3), there are various combinations of techniques that may derive partly from vocal nom-tom ālāp (which may itself derive from instruments), developing rāga through pulse and tempo. Rhythmic groupings are set up through tonal patterns and play made with departure and return to the beat; later stages concentrate on intensified patterns – larī and complex cross-rhythmic bol and thonk (‘hammering’).

Jhālā (‘a shower’), which cannot be earlier than mid-19th century on the sitār (when the cikāri strings were added), contrasts accelerated patterns on the melody strings and the cikāri, with accent either on the latter (ulat: ‘reversed’) at the end of ālāp (3) or on the former (sulat: ‘straightforward’) to conclude fast gat (6; some sources reverse these terms). The ulat with added complex bol is thonk jhālā. A former technique derived from sarod and rabāb, jhārā (also ‘shower’) played patterns similar to jhālā, but all on the main string. The sitār and bīn equivalent of the time was cher (‘excitation’), which contrasted melody string notes with fast patterns on open or fretted drones.

The metric gat compositions (4, 5) remain the heart of sitār repertory as models for the student and the nucleus of performing practice. In the mid-19th century these were quite separate traditions; in standard modern performing practice, both types of gat follow in succession. Tīntāl (a 16-beat rhythmic cycle) is the base for both bāj. In the 19th century, 12-beat Ektāl was the other main tāla for sitār (being symmetrical it was also good for thā-dūn; see below); today, gat in many tāla have been developed, notably by sitār players of the Allaudin Khan school.

There are many types of improvisational practice that occur as torā (‘breaks’) in gat playing. In gat-vistār, for example, the plucking pattern of the masītkhānī gat is kept up by the right hand, while the left hand moves elsewhere to provide different melodic elaborations. The older truly variational ones (sīdhī-ārī, thā-dūn) are less common today, but āmad (variation of the cadence) is still important. Chand, boltān and tārparan stress right-hand plucking and are similar to jor-jhālā techniques. Tān, mainly melodic bravura passages, have seen a great development following that of khayāl. Very rapid right-hand plucking has always been a feature of sitār playing, but with the left hand moving much more slowly, so that many small sets of repeated notes are heard. Concert virtuosos now often move the left hand as fast as the right. Cross-rhythmic work (ārā-kuārī: ‘cross-crooked’) and the triple rhythmic cadence (tihāī, tīyā) serving as a closing cue probably derive from drums and dance (kathak). Modern savāl-javāb (‘question-answer’) is antiphonal phrasing from sitār to tablā, leading to a climactic sāth-sangat (‘simultaneous [improvised] accompaniment’); more traditionally this denotes thematic imitation of sitār and tablā ‘breaks’.

As with the sitār, the historical centre of the Sarod repertory is composed of gat with variational and extensional ‘breaks’ (torā), primarily in Tīntāl. Medium-tempo gat were common in the traditional repertory, but today the sarod also plays slow masītkhānī and fast razākhānī gat types, like the sitār, and also in various tālas. Much of its performing practice is the same as that of the sitār, though the nomenclature may vary, and the sarod now performs the full form of ālāp, jor, slow gat, fast gat and jhālā. The jor and jhālā repertory in particular owes much to the rabāb–sarod tradition. Although in the past the number of sarod gharānā was small, the instrument now enjoys great popularity.

(c) Sārangī and violin.

The Sārangī is traditionally used to accompany vocal music (essentially imitating what the singer has just sung), especially khayāl and thumrī (see §5(iii) above), and to play the time-keeping melody for tablā solos and kathak dance. The sārangī is also used, though less frequently, as a solo instrument. In this case the central repertory may be described as ‘instrumental Khayāl’: ālāp followed by slow then fast compositions. The most famous player of modern times, Ram Narayan, has incorporated elements from the dhrupad vocal tradition and has developed his own individual playing style. He is also the only outstanding player to restrict his performances to solos. Other great exponents of recent times, among them Bundu Khan and Gopal Misra, continued the tradition of accompanying vocal music, in addition to giving solo recitals.

The European violin was introduced into south Indian music in about 1800. Balasvāmi Dīksitar (Muttusvāmi’s youngest brother) and the Thanjavur musician Vadivelu who settled in Trivandrum were its first exponents. By the end of the 19th century it had become the standard accompanying instrument for concerts of Karnatak music, and it is now also widely used as a solo instrument. It is tuned in 4ths and 5ths (or 5ths and 4ths) sounding sa and pa. The original fingering was a two-finger technique modelled on the vīnā, sliding up with the middle finger and down with the index finger. Many aspects of European technique have been adopted and refashioned to the purposes of Karnatak music. No general vibrato is used, but the instrument lends itself admirably to the gamaka of the south Indian style. It is held with the body against the upper chest and the scroll wedged firmly against the ankle, fully stabilized so that the left hand is free to slide along the fingerboard. The violin is now also used as a solo instrument in Hindustani music.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 6: Theory and practice of classical music., Instrumental traditions.

(ii) Aerophones.

Aerophones have played special and limited roles in South Asian music. The flute (vamśa) is one of only two instruments for which rāgas are listed in the Sangīta-ratnākara; it was also an important instrument in the ancient theatre orchestra. It did not play any role in classical music of modern times until the 20th century, during which time it became a concert instrument for both Karnatak (venu, Tamil pullānkulal) and Hindustani music (basrī, basurī). In Karnatak music flautists play the standard vocal repertory, and the flute is now heard in the cinna melam that accompanies bharata-nātyam. In Hindustani music flautists play in an ‘instrumental khayāl’ style: ālāp, followed by slow khayāl accompanied by thekā on tablā, then fast khayāl with tān.

The south Indian double-reed Nāgasvaram, the sound of which is valued as auspicious, is the leading instrument in the temple periya melam, with the tavil and the drone oboe ottu; it also appears on the concert stage. Part of the repertory of the nāgasvaram is derived from the Karnatak tradition, largely vocal compositions. Additionally a body of instrumental compositions without any text (mallārī) is performed solely on the nāgasvaram. A composition in slow tempo is varied through performance at double, quadruple and octuple tempos. Different tempos may be mixed together, and a composition may be performed in triplet patterns as well.

The Śahnāī is the double-reed instrument of north India. It is linked with the naubat ensemble and is played in many different contexts: on the concert stage, at mausoleums, mosques and in temple compounds. Like the basurī, the śahnāī follows the pattern of khayāl performances when played on the concert platform (see also §(v) below).

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 6: Theory and practice of classical music., Instrumental traditions.

(iii) Membranophones.

The major barrel drums of South Asian classical traditions are the south Indian Mrdangam and tavil and the north Indian pakhāvaj; the tablā is a pair of asymmetrical kettledrums; and the south Indian Kañjīrā is a frame drum (fig.9). The mrdangam, pakhāvaj and tablā are discussed below. The tavil accompanies the nāgasvaram in the periya melam, both within the temple precinct and in processions. The tavil accompaniment is distinctive, often playing short solos during the unmetred ālāpana (perhaps to give a rest to the nāgasvaram players); the drum also accompanies classical song-based metred compositions. The kañjīrā is often used to accompany Karnatak vocal music, along with the mrdangam and ghatam (percussion vessel).

(a) Mrdangam and pakhāvaj.

(b) Tablā.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 6(iii): Theory and practice of classical music., Instrumental traditions., ii) Membranophones.

(a) Mrdangam and pakhāvaj.

As with the vīnā, the name mrdanga(m) refers to both a northern (also known as pakhāvaj) and southern Indian instrument. Both can be traced back to the mardala, a barrel drum whose technique is discussed in depth in the medieval Sangīta-ratnākara (13th century). The mardala patterns are still very much in evidence in the modern mrdanga(m) traditions.

There were and are two different kinds of drum strokes and patterns: a primordial set of four and a certain number used for filling in between them. The Sangīta-ratnākara gives ta dhi thom tem for the primal set, called śrama-vāhanī (‘carrying the burden’); this is still the basis for the first sequence learnt in both Hindustani and Karnatak mrdangam traditions. It also gives the sequence in repeating pairs, triplets and quadruplets – ta-ta dhi-dhi … ta-ta-ta dhi-dhi-dhi … etc. – as they are still given in the first lessons. The last syllable now is usually nam (another of seven basic mardala strokes in the Sangīta-ratnākara) but may also be jhem or jhom in the Karnatak traditions.

The second class of strokes in the Sangīta-ratnākara is called eka-sara-tākanī (‘single-flowing-tākanī’), exemplified by combinations of taka and dhikata said to amount to eight, which are meant to ‘break’ the sequences of ta dhi thom tem and provide a ‘flow’ of drumming. Many examples of the elaboration of the ta dhi tom nam succession by means of secondary ‘flowing’ formulae combined with repetition and recurrence of the four main strokes are given in the 14th-century Sangītopanisat-sāroddhāra (Sudhākalaśa). Very interesting historically is the association of each variant with a tāla, as though for a thekā of Hindustani music. Although they are mostly not absolutely identical with existing traditional patterns, some of these patterns are very close, and all are playable. The first quoted below is for Ādī tāla: ‘tad dhi thau draim’. Others are ‘tat-taki/tat-ta/dhi-dhik-ki/dhid-dhi’; ‘tat-ta/dhid-dhi/thau-thau/dhi draim’; ‘karagada naragada/tad-dhi-dhik kada-daragada dhid-dhi kat-thau/dhik-kat-thau draim’.

A longer specimen of ta dhi thau draim plus the filler formula daragada, unconnected with a specific tāla, is given in the chapter on instruments, as an instance of combination for the mardala: ‘tak-kada daragada/dhik-kada daragada tā-dhik-kada/dā-dhik-kada/daragada dhid-dhik-kada/tā-tak-kada/daragada tak-kada/dā-dhik-kada/daragada dhik-kada daragada daragada tā dhit thau draim’.

Comparing these patterns with the first lessons in south Indian mrdangam traditions shows the continuity in the principle of combining the main strokes with filler patterns (jāti), e.g. tā–kitataka dhī–kitataka tom–kitataka nam–kitataka/tā tā kita dhī dhī kita tom tom kita nam nam kita. Other and longer formulae of filler syllables are combined with kitataka, such as tarikita, takadina, takadimi, janutaka and so on: tak-kita kitataka takatarikitataka/dhik-kita kitataka takatarikitataka etc. Other single strokes or short groups can take the places of ta dhi tom nam: tak-kum kitataka … talāngutom kitataka … and so on.

South Indian mrdangam. In their early training, modern students of the south Indian mrdangam learn to play different jātis in relation to different tālas. There are no fixed relationships between particular jātis and particular tālas. The player’s rhythmic sense and motor skills are developed through increasingly varied and complex relations between the two: jātis comprising odd numbers of strokes played in tālas comprising even numbers of beats, and vice versa; doubling, halving and trebling the tempos of the jātis while the tāla remains constant; and starting the jātis on different beats of the tāla.

Playing in terms of improvising jatis in relation to a fixed tāla is called konugolu. This is contrasted with the tathākāra approach used when accompanying melody instruments. South Indian mrdangam players do not keep time in the same way as tablā players do (see §(b) below) but supply a rhythmic counterpoint to the repeated pattern of accents provided by the melody instrument or voice, along with rolls and flourishes.

During the kalpana svara passages that follow improvised pallavi (and may follow fixed compositions, called kriti), the melody instrument improvises increasingly long and rhythmically complex sequences, each terminating on the same strong accent of a refrain passage. In kalpana svara the melody instrument usually ‘challenges’ the mrdangam player to repeat immediately the complex rhythmic sequence just played. During such ‘contests’, the mrdangam player may occasionally replicate a melodic sequence by skilful left-hand strokes.

The solo performance recital traditionally occupies anything from 15 minutes to an hour or more towards the end of a concert, following the main rāga of the concert. This is the longest item, comprising rāga, tānam, pallavi improvisation (or, increasingly nowadays, a kriti) and improvised kalpana svara. These last two sections are set to a single tāla of fixed tempo. Immediately after kalpana svara the mrdangam continues alone into the solo recital, improvising with as many different jatis and jati sequences as possible within the framework of the fixed tāla. The player does not mark the strong beats of the tāla with regular drumstrokes; throughout the mrdangam solo the principal performer of the ensemble marks the strong beats with movements of the right hand. In this way the complex and varying relationships between the rhythmic accents of the jati sequences and the strong beats of the tāla are made accessible to the spectators. Towards the end of the solo the rhythmic density increases to herald the approach of the climax, which lasts for a minute or two and in which relationships between rhythm and metre display maximum complexity and variability. The solo concludes with three repeats of a pre-arranged terminal jāti, which concludes precisely on the starting note of the pallavi refrain played once by the whole ensemble to terminate the musical item.

Of the tālas used, Ādī (4+2+2) is the most common. However, other tālas such as Rūpaka (2+4), Triputa (3+2+2), Eka (4), Khanda chāpu (2+3) and Miśra chāpu (3+4) are frequently heard, and many popular compositions are set to these tālas. Occasionally, compositions in Dhruva (4+2+4+4), Mathya (4+2+4), Jhampa (7+1+2) and Ata (5+5+2+2) are found, usually in the context of improvised pallavi. Ādī tāla has three tempos, arrived at by doubling and quadrupling the number of beats in the measure. The other tālas have a single tempo (although this is variable within limits). Rūpaka, Triputa and Khanda chāpu are fast tempo tālas; Eka and Miśra chāpu are medium tempo; and Dhruva, Mathya, Jhampa and Ata are slow. The slow tempo tālas are associated with older compositions. Mrdangam players often experiment with theoretically derived tālas, but these rarely result in public performances.

Pakhāvaj. The vocal and instrumental forms of dhrupad, accompanied by pakhāvaj, are rhythmically organized in tāla. The drum is silent during the ālāp; with the commencement of the vocal or instrumental composition the drum begins to play. The general style of pakhāvaj accompaniment is characterized as ‘simultaneous-variational’ (sāth sangat), which distinguishes it from the alternating variation of the tablā in the newer Indo-Muslim style.

The dhrupad tāla system has been characterized as additive, in that the common metres are made up mostly of sub-bars of different lengths, thus: Cautāl (Cārtāl, Dhrupadtāl), 12 beats (4+4+2+2); Sūltāl, 10 beats (4+2+4); Tīvrātāl, 7 beats (3+2+2); Dhamār, 14 beats (5+2+3+4); Ārā (‘crooked’) Cautāl, 14 beats (2+4+4+4). The tāla itself has the function of a time signature, a conceptual framework between the musicians. The pakhāvaj, unlike the tablā, does not make much use of a base-rhythm pattern in performance, though it does have illustrative patterns. These are sometimes called thapiyā (‘mark, signature’), or thekā (‘support’), following the tablā terminology.

The most important aspect of pakhāvaj (as of the vocal) variations is tempo manipulation, for which the general term is bat (‘division’). In general, these ‘mask’ rather than ‘mark’ the tāla structure, driving at their conclusion towards the main, first beat of the metre (sam) to coincide with the singer. The structure of a typical pakhāvaj dhrupad accompaniment may be discussed principally in terms of tempo (laya): in the first verse (sthāyī) the drum plays tukrā prastār or peśkār variations in base-tempo, usually medium; in the second (antarā) it plays double-tempo prastār and tukrā; in sañcāri it plays triple- and in ābhog, quadruple-tempo variations; in subsequent returns to the sthāyī, more complex tempos develop (five or seven against four, for example). This format applies to solo playing, but more adventurous tempos (three-quarters, one-and-a-quarter etc.) also occur. Sharma talks of 32 tempo patterns in all. The doubling of tempo within a piece is called dupallī (‘two-fold’), and successive doublings tīnpallī, caupallī etc.

Within this are several different types of variational structure organized by tone-colour, repetition and recurrence, and so on. Tukrā (‘piece’) is a short variation from a few beats to two or three cycles in length, usually with varying strokes and rhythms, and with or without a closing tihāī or triple cadential formula. The term paran (for pūran: ‘filler’; though it has also a more general connotation) is usually reserved for longer structures with manipulation of strokes (bol), tempo and timbre. This often takes the form of theme and tihāī, the latter usually a compound one (cakradār: ‘three times three’). An additional and important principle of variation is that of additive extension (prastār), where a particular bol -phrase is taken (ghinanaka is a favourite one for this) and increasingly varied and complex bol are added before it (e.g. dhā-kita ghinanaka, dhumakita ghinanaka, dhā-kita dhumakita ghinanaka ghinanaka, dhā-kita dhumakita takadhuma ghinanaka). A piece that further emphasizes the permutation of bol (as in dhumakita takadhuma above) is called peśkār (this has more in common with the qāidā than the peśkār of the tablā). The relā (‘torrent’) of the pakhāvaj may derive from imitation of the tārparan and jhālā patterns of such string instruments as the bīn and rabāb (which the pakhāvaj used to accompany) and are fast streams of predominantly closed, rolling bol, given in quadruple groupings which are mostly in 12-beat Cautāl and 16-beat Tritāl (the favourite instrumental tālas). The parār is a longer relā (around six cycles in length) with a closing tihāī. Patterns in one tāla may here be fitted into another. The pakhāvaj also plays with the kathak dance, where in addition to the rhythmic procedures sketched above, its bol can include lexical words or syllables; this occurs also in religious formulae (stuti), where the bol corresponds prosodically to, and also symbolizes, the words of the text.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 6(iii): Theory and practice of classical music., Instrumental traditions., ii) Membranophones.

(b) Tablā.

The Tablā has a rich and diverse repertory. They are used to accompany kathak dance, ‘big’ and ‘small’ khayāl and tarānā (see §5(iii)(b) above), ‘light’ song forms such as tappā, dādrā and ghazal (see §IV below), and the instrumental gat torā; they are also used to perform solo compositions. A tablā composition is bound by the number of mātrā (‘measure’, ‘count’) of the particular tāla in which it is performed, the tempo (laya) and the individual peculiarities of the compositional type. Some are cyclical (e.g. qāida), reflecting the cyclical nature of tāla structure and its mechanisms, such as the bhārā (‘heavy’) and khālī (‘empty’) portions of the time-cycle, which are marked by voiced and unvoiced syllables respectively; others, though metrically governed by the tāla, do not necessarily adhere to its internal principles. Most thekā (see below) adhere to the internal structure of their respective tālas, such as vibhāg (‘breakdown’, i.e. division) and its tālī (‘clapped’) and khālī (‘empty’) adjuncts. Compositions such as tukrā (‘piece’) ignore these, exploring other metrical intricacies such as the tihāī (triple cadential formula). Most compositions eventually return to the thekā by means of a tihāī, with the last syllable on the sam (the first beat of a given time-cycle) of the ensuing cycle. The thekā establishes the laya and marks the āvarta (‘cycle’) by referring to the sam and the vibhāg marked by tālī and khālī. A function of thekā is to accompany instruments and/or the voice, compositions being introduced when the soloist takes a rest from improvisation. The tablā may also be performed solo (lahrā: ‘tune’), usually to the accompaniment of an instrument such as the sārangī, playing a circular tune (naghma) and marking time. The choosing of a composition is governed by the type of performance and the music being accompanied, together with the tempo in which it is being performed. Compositions may be said to fall into two distinct categories: those that are fixed (e.g. tukrā; see below) and those that are variable, such as the qā’ida.

The qā’ida (‘formula’) has a fixed cell composition establishing a set of syllables (bol) used as a basis for variations through permutations of the phrases. A variation (paltā) may not use syllables other than those contained within the main cell composition. The permutations are not so much of individual syllables as of phrases. There are two distinct approaches to the qā’ida: the Delhi gharānā and the pūrab (‘eastern’, e.g. Lucknow, Varanasi). The qā’ida is a special feature of the tablā and is said to have originated in the Delhi style (bāj). It follows the principles of tablā -orientated thekā such as Tīntāl (16 mātrā) and Jhaptāl (10 mātrā), both of which are divisible into two equal halves, the first bhārī and the second khālī. Both these tālas, as with other tablā tālas, have the characteristic tālī, tālī, khālī, tālī breakdown. The qā’ida follows a similar pattern with the first two tālī forming the bhārī and the second half, khālī and tālī, collectively representing the khālī. Even where there is an asymmetrical tāla such as Rūpak (which has seven mātrā, divided into khālī (3), tālī (2), tālī (2)) a similar process is used by multiplying the original composition by two or four, and so evening out any odd numbers of pulses. The khālī and tālī of Rūpak are not reflected on the expounding of the qā'ida, which adheres to its symmetrical form. The Delhi qā’ida reflect the vibhāg more clearly than do some of the pūrab qā’ida, which tend to be more convoluted and intricate. A characteristic of the Delhi bāj is the dohrā (‘doubling’), which gives the first half of the main qā'ida in its bhārī form, twice, and then the main qā’ida with its second half tailing into khālī by becoming unvoiced. The first half is then repeated twice in its unvoiced form, followed by the main qā'ida, both halves played voiced. The dohrā thus suggests four parts, equivalent to tālī, tālī, khālī and tālī. The paltā (‘permutations’) are introduced in a similar format, substituting the first quarter of the dohrā, and are repeated in the third section as khālī by being unvoiced. The qā'ida is thus performed in duple tempo to the original established by the main composition, which in turn is dictated by the tempo provided by the thekā. The qā'ida returns to the thekā by means of a tihāī. Qā'ida are played in all three basic tempos: vilambīt-laya (‘slow tempo’), madhya-laya (‘medium tempo’) and drut (‘fast tempo’). ‘Light’ (laggī) qā'ida, with lighter syllabic patterns, are used in accompanying ‘semi/light-classical’ forms such as thumri, as well as in traditional and film tunes and songs.

Other types of variable composition are similarly expanded by means of paltā. The relā (‘rushing’) is a qā'ida-type composition having a main bol from which the dohrā and palta are derived, eventually returning to thekā by means of a tihāī. It is played at a fast tempo, producing a rapid overall rolling effect by employing suitable phraseology (e.g. terekete and dhere dhere as in the relā: ‘(dhā terekite dhere dhere dhere ghire naghe) × 2; dhā terekite dhā terekite dhā terekite dhere dhere dhere ghire naghe’ (Tīntāl)). The peśkār (‘introduction’) and the uthān (‘arising’) also expand by means of the paltā. In some pūrab gharānā (e.g. Farukhabad) the peśkār, as practised by Delhi, is known as the uthān. The peśkār is seen as a composition with a marked gait, being expanded through similar principles to the qā'ida. The uthān, on the other hand, is developed through less rigid principles, leaving room for comparatively free improvisations within certain conventions laid out by root compositions. Both these compositions are played in vilambīt-laya and are normally used to introduce solo or accompanying performance.

The qā'ida expansion principles are also evident in other compositions, such as the calan (‘movement’) and the gat (‘measure’, ‘tune’). There are many forms of gat, some resembling the qā'ida while others, because of the nature of their intricacies, are expanded only by using pre-composed variations. An example of this second type is the mañjhadhār gat (‘holding the centre’), in which the normal duple pulse is found in the centre of the composition. Most mañjhadhār gat are given variations only in forming tihāī and/or cakradār (‘forming circles’), a triple cadential formula often thought of as a composition in itself. Gat, therefore, may be divided into two categories: those that are variable, such as gat qā'ida, and those that are set.

The most important of the set compositions is the tukrā (‘piece’), a fixed composition ending in a tihāī. Another form of tukrā is the paran borrowed from the pakhāvaj. The paran of the tablā is similar to the tukrā but dominated by pakhāvaj stroke-syllabic structures. These compositions are performed usually in drut (fast tempo) and are used in solo and in dance accompaniments. The mukhrā (‘face’) is a short composition introducing sam, its maximum length being one āvarta.

A distinctive feature of tablā performance (and an innovation in South Asian art music) is the alternation between a base-pattern (thekā: ‘framework’, ‘prop’, ‘support’) and variation forms. The thekā and variational breaks are employed for basic training, solo playing, accompaniment of dance, ‘small’ khayāl and tarānā, and instrumental gat. Following the dancer's base-pattern of footwork (tatkār) in Tīntāl (the quadruple metre fundamental to this style) – based on alternate steps of the right (R) and left (L) feet – the tablā thekā is founded on an alternation of the two principal resonant right-hand strokes ta and tin (on a base-relationship of two strokes to one step), itself made binary by the presence or absence of the resonant left-hand stroke ghe (Table 17). Similar structures evolved for other tablā -accompanied tāla, such as Dādrā, Jhap and Rūpak; in the case of the two that involve an up-beat and are thus asymmetrical (Rūpak overall, Jhap internally), the upbeat stroke tin is played on the main accents. An older thekā for Rūpak, for example, in origin probably an Afghan dance motor-rhythm (it is also known as Paśto tāla), has been transformed in the modern thekā to conform to the metronomic and qualitative pattern of the kathak dance style (Table 18). In dance the ‘support’ given by the thekā is one of maintaining flow, tempo and metre between dance pieces; to this end it has evolved as a polyrhythmic (but even) pattern, in which every beat has an accent, without much use of dynamic variety. This has been adopted in ‘fast’ khayāl and tarānā and in instrumental gat, to accompany the variations of the lead musician.

TABLE 17: Tintāl thekā


/	dhā	dhin	dhin	dhā	/	dhā	dhin	dhin	dhā
	R		L			R		L
/	dhā	tin	tin	tā	/	tā	dhin	dhin	dhā	/
	L		R			L		R

TABLE 18


	1	2	3	4	5	6	7
Paśto	tin	–	trk	dhin	–	dhā	ghe
Rūpak	tin	tin	nā	dhin	nā	dhin	nā

In slow khayāl and the ‘light’ song-forms, thekā of a different nature have evolved, mostly using agogic organization and signal strokes to maintain the tāla; in modern slow khayāl this can consist of individual beats lasting up to six seconds, given in cycles of from 10 to 16 beats. The slow masītkhānī and seniyā gat of the sitār were clearly designed to be accompanied by pakhāvaj, and the influence of that drum's style is seen in some 19th century thekā (Table 19); now they are accompanied exclusively by the tablā.

TABLE 19: slow Tīntāl thekā (Goswami, 1868)


	1	2	3	4	/	5	6	7	8
/	dhā	ā	dhin	nā		trka	dhā	dhin	nā
	9	10	11	12	/	13	14	15	16
/	thu	un	thun	nā		tita	kata	gadi	gana	//

The repertory of the razākhānī, or Lucknow, sitār is more closely allied to the typical fast khayāl dance and tablā framework. The sarod (and, more recently, other melody instruments) progressively adopted a performance structure and tablā accompaniment pattern derived from that of the sitār. The performance structure for tablā solo (tablā lahrā; ‘tablā and fiddle-tune’, showing the old association with the sārangī, though the melody may now be played on harmonium, sitār etc.) derived naturally from the daily practice and creation of new material over the centuries by the tablā player, and it uses the thekā pattern to maintain flow between variations.

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 6: Theory and practice of classical music., Instrumental traditions.

(iv) Idiophones.

Cymbals (tālam) and flat gongs have played, and in some contexts still do play, an essential part in marking out the divisions of a tāla. In some contexts they may be used to play rhythmic patterns, in a similar manner to the drums described above. The cennalam (small flat gong) and ilatalam (cymbals) of the kathakali ensemble often play patterns distinct from time-keeping.

The nattuvanār of the cinna melam changes from time-keeping with the nattuva tālam (a pair of cymbals, one of bronze and one of steel) to playing the rhythm whenever reciting choreographic syllables for the dancer, reverting to time-keeping when the song is resumed.

The South Indian gatam is a clay pot used as a struck idiophone. It is often present as a member of the Karnatak concert ensemble and plays rhythmic patterns along with, and alternating with, the mrdangam. Also occasionally present in the Karnatak ensemble as a rhythmic accompanying instrument is the mursing (jews harp).

India, Subcontinent of, §III, 6: Theory and practice of classical music., Instrumental traditions.

(v) Ensembles.

An ensemble for South Asian art music is best understood in terms of the musical functions: melody governed by rāga, rhythm comprising pattern and tempo (laya), and the two brought together under a time cycle (tāla). Two supplementary elements in an ensemble are an instrumental drone, reinforcing the system tonic, and a melodic accompaniment. Table 20 shows the main parts of ensembles in the two art musics today, grouped according to musical role.

TABLE 20: Roles in South Asian art music ensembles


	Karnatak	Hindustani

	voice	voice (khayāl, thumrī, dhrupad)

	vīnā; more recently	bīn, sitār, sarod; more recently
soloist	violin, flute etc	violin, flute, sārangī etc
	––––––––––––––––	––––––––––––––––
	nāgasvaram (temple	sahnāī (temple and ceremonial,
	processions, now also	now also concerts)
	concerts)


	violin	harmonium, sārangī (khayāl, thumrī)
accompaniment	––––––––––––––––	––––––––––––––––
	[2nd vīnā; violin]	[bīn formerly accompanied dhrupad]
	––––––––––––––––	––––––––––––––––
	[2nd nāgasvaram]	[2nd sahnāī]


	mrdangam	tablā (khayāl, thumrī, sitār)
	(sometimes joined by	and other instruments)
	ghatam and/or kañjīrā	––––––––––––––––
drum		pakhāvaj (dhrupad,
		dhamār; bīn)
	––––––––––––––––	––––––––––––––––
	tāvil (with nāgasvaram)	khurdhāk/duggī (with shahnāī)




	tambūrā/śruti-box	tambūrā
drone	[side strings (vīnā)]	[side strings (bīn, sitar)]
	ottu (with nāgasvaram)	[3rd shahnāī]



	[hand (vocalist)]	[hand (dhrupad singer)]

tāla	tālam (with nāgasvaram)	tablā (thekā)
	[side strings (with vīnā)]

Hardly any separate performers are listed for the vital function of regulating the tāla. In some circumstances sections of the tāla are marked by idiophones of one kind or another, as in the processional ensembles of south Indian temples (see below). In concert styles, however, the divisions of the tāla are marked either by the principal performer with his hand or by a string player on side strings, or are not marked at all. In Hindustani instrumental music, on the other hand, and even more in the vocal genres khayāl and thumrī, the time cycles are marked out by the tablā playing thekā (see §(iii)(b) above). Insofar as this practice dispenses not only with a separate reckoning of the talā by hand or idiophone but also with the very need for such a reckoning, it is a deviation (however widespread and familiar now) from an ancient and indigenous principle that separates rhythmic drumming from time-keeping.

(a) The concert ensemble.

The principal concert soloist is the vocalist. Plucked string instruments, such as south Indian vīnā and Hindustani bīn and sitār, have also long had solo standing. Many more instruments now take solo roles in concerts, including the bowed string instruments, violin and sārangī, which were traditionally confined to melodic accompaniment. The melodic accompanist may double the soloist in compositions; in improvisation he may support the soloist by echoing his phrases while they are in progress, and he may alternate antiphonally with the soloist.

The rhythmic patterns of the drum in the ensemble are in principle independent of those in any composition or improvisation being performed by the melodic soloist. When playing simultaneously the two are bound together only in the large, that is, by the framework of the time cycle, although they almost always share the atomic pulse as well (except in the slow khayāl, where the soloist sings without pulse and the tablā drum controls the time cycle).

The Nātyaśāstra mentions three kinds of relationship between a vocal soloist and accompanying flute, strings and drums, each of which has its modern analogue. In the most basic, tattva (‘element’), the accompanist simply doubles the singer's melody or rhythm, or both (this is the only relationship suggested for the flute). In the relationship of anugata (‘accompaniment’), the general melodic or rhythmic configuration of the composition is preserved by a string accompanist or drummer but very much elaborated, and virtuoso display can be introduced when the singer sustains a long note or pauses between sections. Finally there is ogha (‘flood’ or ‘multitude’), which for a string player means antiphonal alternation and for a drummer fast and free virtuoso display.

The background drone in concert ensembles is usually provided by the plucked open wires of a Tambūrā (large long-necked lute) played by a student or sometimes by the soloist (female vocalists in particular). The adjoining side wires of some plucked string instruments can provide a harmonic background of tonic, sometimes 5th, and upper tonic as they are struck to mark divisions of a time cycle or in alternation with the playing wire. Strumming (or simultaneously bowing) open strings tuned to tonic and 5th also provides drone, as does the tuned right-hand head of a concert drum.

(b) Ceremonial ensembles.

Besides the indoor concert ensembles there are ensembles originally connected with temple or court ceremonial, in which the three basic musical functions of classical music are sometimes quite distinctly separated.

Periya melam. This Tamil term means ‘great ensemble’, and it denotes a band that usually includes two nāgasvaram, an ottu (a drone oboe), tavil and tālam. A śankh (conch), which plays the jāti (rhythmic patterns), is sometimes added to the ensemble. It is associated with temples in south India and plays the ceremonial and processional music that accompanies the image of the deity. Extensive ālāpana is played by the nāgasvaram, which may alternate between two or more players. Rhythmic solos are played between sections of the ālāpana by the tavil; during these the rhythmic cycles are marked by the tālam. For several years such ensembles (comprising a leading and secondary nāgasvaram, each accompanied by a tavil, an ottu and/or a śruti-box and tālam) have been giving recitals of Karnatak music.

Cinna melam. This ensemble (cinna is Tamil for ‘lesser’, ‘small’) accompanies recitals of bharata-nātyam dance. It is lead by the nattuvanār, who beats the tālam with a pair of nattuva tālam (cymbals) and recites the jāti for the dancers. In addition to the dancers, who wear gejjai (ankle bells), the ensemble includes a principal singer, a melodic accompaniment, a drone and a mrdangam. The melodic accompaniment was formerly provided by a mukhavīnā (small oboe) and more recently by a clarinet, and the drone by a śruti upanga (bagpipe). These instruments are now usually replaced by a transverse flute (venu or kulal), a violin and/or a vīnā and a śruti-box. The ensemble is also known as nāc.

Śahnāī ensembles. The śahnāī arrived in South Asia as part of the Muslim ceremonial naubat ensemble (see Naqqārakhāna). The ensemble's role was to play several times daily at the gates of palaces and at some shrines of Muslim pīr (holy men). The naubat is now very rare, although a few musicians are still employed at the shrine of Mu'inuddin in Ajmer, Rajasthan. Their music is now based on Hindustani rāgas.

The śahnāī also functions as a temple instrument in many places in the north, most notably in Varanasi, where it is accompanied by the drums khurdāk and duggi. It was from this background that the śahnāī moved to playing Hindustani music on the concert platform.

See also Ghata; Vamśa.

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music.

7. Aesthetics.

Artistic creativity in Indian classical music depends on a performer’s mastery of learned structures and idioms, but with each performance being in principle ephemeral and unrepeatable. Theoretical and aesthetic attention has therefore tended to give priority to underlying musical principles rather than the final product of a ‘composition’ or performance. However, the study of Indian musical aesthetics has ranged over many formal, functional and psychological aspects of the art, including both the evaluation of practice and a more philosophical interest in the basic structures. Both of these broad concerns have their precedents in śāstra (see §II, 1 above), an aim of which was the comprehensive definition and description of music, its origins and its correct procedures. In the description of instrumental and vocal procedure and of melodic shape and ‘finish’, texts such as the Sangīta-ratnākara and Sangīta-samaya-sāra (see §II, 1(ii)(a) above) and their derivatives show some influence from the language and critical discourse of real musical practice. For example, these texts’ classified lists of sthāya (the numerous different melodic inflectional patterns that are used in the passage from one note, svara, to the next) can be seen as attempts to provide effective practical markers of melodic style. The sthāya, comprehensively listed by Śārngadeva (Sangīta-raknākara, iii, 97–188), were apparently used and named by practising musicians of his time. They are precisely those intonational contours that both distinguish the peculiarly Indian approach to melodic line in general and separate the various styles one from another within the Indian field (Lath, 1987). Although many of the melodic features that they describe must have continued in practice, the theoretical category later fell out of use. Parallels for some of the sthāya may be seen in the technical language and practice of present-day musicians.

Śāstra aimed to order and schematize such material, and in so doing it was influenced by other disciplines such as phonetics, metrics, dramaturgy and poetics. Thus in the third chapter of the Sangīta-ratnākara, in outlining the technical characteristics of the song-composer (vāg-geya-kāra), the singer (gāyaka), the singer’s natural vocal ability (śārīra) and voice quality itself (śabda), a schematic system of merits (guna) and faults (dosa) is used, and these are graded in accordance with common śāstric method. In the absence of an indisputably unbroken oral tradition, it is hard to interpret many of the detailed descriptive and evaluative terms we find here, but some cultural preferences do seem to emerge. For example, equal facility in all parts of a wide vocal range, strength of tone and the ability to inspire pathos in the listener are praised, while frailty, hoarseness and inflexibility are condemned. The lists also suggest that musicians could be highly rated for a variety of reasons, and individuality does not seem to be ruled out. This kind of aesthetic evaluation was conceptually connected with the method of the alamkāra school of poetics, which concentrated on varieties of verbal expression in defining poetic style and genre. The point of departure was the Nātyaśāstra, which brought poetics and music theory close together in the single context of Sanskrit dramaturgy. Literary theory long continued to influence musical aesthetics. The influence is also to be found in the analysis of song types (prabandha) in the Brhad-deśī and its successors, where style and compositional type are classified not only according to poetic text metre and the rāga and tāla, but also in terms of regional character reminiscent of linguistic and literary idiom (Rowell, 1992, 286–7, 312–13).

As Indian classical, particularly Hindustani, music is characterized more by improvisation within strict parameters than by a repertory of ‘works’ (a Western category for which there is no real Indian equivalent), performance is seen as a representation of one or more underlying structures (rāga, tāla and compositional form), and evaluation is on the basis of how properly and effectively this is done. On the part of the enculturated listener, the musical experience centrally involves recognition and re-experience as well as the response to new material (Powers, 1976). A possible exception may be found in the kriti and other pre-determined elements of the Karnatak repertory (see §5(iv) above). However, there is an essential fluidity in the realization and rendering of these pieces, so that the performer may be regarded as having a considerable stake in the eventual structure of the musical ‘text’. Great prestige is still commonly accorded to the particularly open-ended renderings of kriti and pallavi, and a musician will be found deficient if the performance suggests excessive pre-composition (Catlin, 1985). Furthermore, a kriti will still be appraised partly on how well it represents one or more characteristics of its rāga. The same criterion is often applied by musicians to a well-formed bandiś (‘song’) in khayāl. Innovation is in principle circumscribed in such a way that the perceived integrity of the rāga, tāla and compositional form are not violated, unless for special effect. Śārngadeva briefly states how novelty is achieved and in what it consists, that is, what distinguishes one performance from another. A new song composition, he tells us, employs a new (i.e. different) rāga, tāla and verbal text; a rāga may be ‘newly’ executed with new [combinations of] sthāya, the verbal text is new by virtue of its varied subject-matter and affective power, and so on.

The classical Indian ‘musica speculativa’ was particularly concerned with the genesis and evolution of sound, both physical (e.g. the production of sound in the human body, as expounded in yogic and physiological terms by Śārngadeva at the start of the Sangīta-ratnākara) and metaphysical (the arising of audible sound from the primordial creative principle of nāda, already expounded in the first chapter of the Brhad-deśī). Musical sound is explained as an evolution, differentiation, refinement and meaningful organization of the raw sonic material. Again, the theory of language was a strong influence (Rowell, 1992, chaps. 3, 7 and 8; Sharma, 1995; Lath, 1995). In the Brhad-deśī several alternative philosophical models are offered to explain the relation of svara to śruti (see §1(ii) above), and in the standard model of many texts the rāgas are presented as generated derivatives of more basic melodic systems or structures (grāma, mūrcchanā). The ‘evolutionary’ account of rāga as derived from scale and mode may be seen as a forerunner of the classificatory and pedagogical orderings of more recent systems.

Conceptually, rāga (see §2(i) above) has maintained a considerable continuity from early texts to the present day: both the distinctness of the different rāgas and the individuality of ethos of each of them have always been stressed; each performance ‘reveals’ and enhances for the listener an already known (i.e. learned) structural and aesthetic entity that persists, as an abstract, behind all its exemplars and can only be represented through them. In the rāga-mālā systems of painting, which flourished in the north and central Indian courts especially from the 16th to the early 19th centuries (see §II, 3(iii) above), and in the poetic evocations (dhyāna-śloka) often accompanying them, the notion of individuality and distinctness of the rāgas was given a visual and emotive analogue. However, writers on music stress the aesthetic autonomy of music itself; the ethos of the rāga, to be understood, has to be experienced in sound rather than simply described. Nānyadeva’s, Śārngadeva’s and Somanātha’s notated musical examples in their treatises are included in order to impart this understanding.

The affective character of melody was expounded first in relation to its use in the dramatic context. In the Brhad-deśī the many rāgas are distinguished from one another not only by their individual tonal features but by their conventional association with particular scenes or situations or character types in Sanskrit drama; thus they are characterized by their aesthetic function in supporting particular atmospheres and moods. Here may be at least one of the origins of the conventional linking of rāgas in Hindustani music with times of day and seasons of the year, a notion of appropriate time evoked or enhanced by the melodic ethos. In these associations it is also possible that ideas of appropriateness and auspiciousness were inherited from traditions of religious music, in which ritual exactness of performance was crucially important.

In the Brhad-deśī the important connection was also made between rāga and rasa, the central and most potent idea in traditional Indian aesthetics. Rasa is aesthetic ‘flavour’ or ‘relish’, produced out of the various kinds of represented emotion (bhāva) that are found in the situations and events depicted on stage. Originally occurring in the Nātyaśāstra as a theory of aesthetic response to drama, the rasa principle was extended to non-dramatic literature and eventually came to be regarded as relevant to aesthetic experience in general. The theory of rasa was discussed and variously elaborated by successive writers on poetics, but essentially it held that there is a limited number of specific rasa corresponding to a similarly fixed series of ‘basic’ or ‘permanent’ emotions. Rasa can be aroused, in a sensitive spectator or connoisseur (rasika or sahrdaya), through his ‘tasting’ the emotion represented in the work of art. Much discussion has been devoted to the rasa theory and its applicability to music (as opposed to the verbal and representational arts alone), and conclusions have ranged from total rejection to enthusiastic adaptations of the idea. As a general theory of aesthetics it does suggest a particular model of interaction between the creative act and the ‘receiver’ of art who recognizes and responds to the structural entities underlying a performance or artefact. It must, however, be admitted that in the case of rāga, in addition to the stable notion of the identity of particular melodic substructures, there will be a range of moods, evoking many levels of response, in the course of any actual performance.

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

reference sources

general texts

treatises and commentaries

other historical sources

early history

general and later histories

indian music and the west

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music., Bibliography

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treatises and commentaries

Dattila: Dattilam; ed. E. te Nijenhuis with Eng. trans. as Dattilam: a Compendium of Ancient Indian Music (Leiden, 1970); ed. M. Lath with Eng. trans. as A Study of Dattilam: a Treatise on the Sacred Music of Ancient India (New Delhi, 1978, 2/1988 as Dattilam: English and Sanskrit)

Narada: Nāradīya śiksā; ed. S. Śukla (Datia, 1964) [incl. commentary by Bhattaśobhākara]; trans. L. Rowell as ‘A Śiksā for the Twiceborn’, AsM, ix/1 (1977), 72–94 [incl. commentary]

Bharata: Nātyaśāstra (4th–5th centuries); ed. M. Ramakrishna Kavi and J.S. Pade (Baroda, 1926–64), i (2/1956); ed. M. Ghosh with Eng. trans. (Calcutta, 1951–67, rev. 2/1961–7)

Matanga: Brhad-deśī (8th–9th centuries); ed. K.S. Śāstrī (Trivandrum, 1928); ed. P.L. Sharma and A.B. Beohar with Eng. trans. as Brhaddeśī of Śrī Matanga Muni (Delhi, 1992)

Abhinavagupta: Abhinava-bhāratī (10th century); in Nātyaśāstra, ed. M. Ramakrsna Kavi and J.S. Pade (Baroda, 1926–64)

Nārada: Sangīta-makaranda (10th–12th centuries); ed. M.R. Telang (Baroda, 1920); ed. L. Garga (Hathras, 1978)

Nānyadeva: Bharata-bhāsyam (c1100); ed. C.P. Desai (Khairagarh, 1961–)

Someśvara: Mānasollāsa (1131); ed. G.K. Shrigondekar (Baroda, 1925–61)

Pārśvadeva: Sangīta-samaya-sāra (c 13th century); ed. T. Ganapati Śāstrī (Trivandrum, 1925); ed. K.C.D. Brhaspati (Delhi, 1977)

Śārngadeva: Sangīta-ratnākara (13th century); ed. S. Subrahmanya Sastri (Madras, 1943–53; Eng. trans., C. Kunhan Raja, 1945; K. Kunjunni Raja and R. Burnier, 1976); ed. R.K. Shringy and P.L. Sharma with Eng. trans. (Delhi, 1978–)

Simhabhūpāla: Sudhākara (c1330); in Sangīta-ratnākara, i, ed. S. Subrahmanya Sastri (Madras, 1943–53)

Sudhākalaśa: Sangītopanisat-sāroddhāra (1350); ed. U.P. Shah (Baroda, 1961)

Ghunyat-ul-munya (1374–5); ed. S. Sarmadee as Ghunyat-ul-Munya: the Earliest Known Persian Work on Indian Music (Bombay, 1978)

Sangīta-śiromani (1428); ed. E. te Nijenhuis with Eng. trans. as Sangītaśiromani: a Medieval Handbook of Indian Music (Leiden, 1992)

Kallinātha: Kalānidhi (c1450); in Sangīta-ratnākara, i, ed. S. Subrahmanya Sastri (Madras, 1943–53)

Kumbhakarna: Sangīta-rāja (1453); ed. P.L. Sharma (Varanasi, 1963)

Lahjat-i-sikander-shāhi (c1500)

Śubhankara: Sangīta-dāmodara (c1500); ed. G. Sastri and G. Mukhopadhyaya (Calcutta, 1960)

Rāmāmātya: Svara-mela-kalānidhi (c1550); ed. M.S. Ramaswami Aiyar (Tiruvannamalai, 1932); ed. V. Bhatta and B. Sharma with Hindi trans. (Hathras, 1963)

Śrīkantha: Rasa-kaumudī (c1575); ed. A.N. Jani (Baroda, 1963)

Pundarīka Vitthala: Rāga-mālā (1576); ed. N.G. Ratanjankar and G.G. Barve (Bombay, 1914); ed. R. Sathyanarayana with Kannada trans. in Pundarīkamālā (Bangalore, 1986), 115–202

Pundarīka Vitthala: Sadrāgacandrodaya (late 16th century); ed. G.V. Sharma (Bombay, 1912); ed. R. Sathyanarayana with Kannada trans. in Pundarīkamālā (Bangalore, 1986), 1–112

Pundarīka Vitthala: Rāgamañjarī (late 16th century); ed. B.S. Sukthankar (Pune, 1918); ed. R. Sathyanarayana with Kannada trans. in Pundarīkamālā (Bangalore, 1986), 205–65

Pundarīka Vitthala: Nartananirnaya (late 16th century); ed. R. Sathyanarayana with Kannada trans. in Pundarīkamālā (Bangalore, 1986), 269–668

Abul Fazl: Ā’īn-i akbarī (1597); Eng. trans. H. Blochmann and H.S. Jarrett (Calcutta, 1873, rev. 2/1927–49/R)

Somanātha: Rāga-vibodha (1609); ed. S. Subrahmanya Sastri (Madras, 1940)

Govinda Dīksitar: Sangīta-sudhā (c 1620); ed. P.S. Sundaram Aiyar and S. Subrahmanya Sastri (Madras, 1940) [first pubd 1930–39 in Journal of the Music Society, Madras]

Dāmodara Pandita: Sangīta-darpana (c 1625); ed. A. Bake with Eng. trans. (Paris, 1930); ed. K. Vasudeva Sastri (Thanjavur, 1952)

Venkatamkhin: Caturdandī-prakāśikā (c 1640); ed. S. Subrahmanya Sastri, T.V. Subba Rao and T.L. Venkatarama Ayyar (Madras, 1934)

Mīrzā Khān: Tuhfat al-Hind (17th century); ed. N.H. Ansari, i (Tehran, 1968); ii (Delhi, 1983)

Purusottama Miśra: Sangītanārāyana (17th century); ed. J.B. Katz as The Musicological Portions of the Sangītanārāyana: a Critical Edition and Commentary (diss., U. of Oxford, 1987)

Ahobala-pandita: Sangīta-pārijāta (17th century); ed. J.V. Bhattācārya (Calcutta, 1884); ed. Kalinda, i–ii (Hathras, 2/1956); iii (Hathras, 1971)

Śrīnivāsa: Rāga–tattva-vibodha (17th century); ed. V.S. Desai (Baroda, 1956)

K. Vasudeva Sastri, ed.: Rāga ālāpanās and thāyams in Devanagari and Tamil Scripts (Thanjavur, 1958) [MSS of Rājā Śahājī, late 17th century]

Locana Kavi: Rāgataranginī (late 17th century); ed. D.K. Joshi (Pune, 1918)

Tulajā Rājā: Sangīta-sārāmrta (c 1730); ed. S. Subrahmanya Sastri (Madras, 1942)

Pratāp Singh: Sangīt-sār (c 1800); ed. Pune Gāyan Samāj (Pune, 1910–12)

Muhammad Reza: Nāghmāt-i āsafi (Patna, 1813)

Svātitirunāl: Muhanāprāsāntyaprāsavyavasthā (1813–46); Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, lvi (1985), 176–91

Muhammad Karam Imam: Ma’danu’l-mūsīqī (1857); trans. G. Vidyarthi, Bulletin [Sangeet Natak Akademi], nos.11–12 (1959), 13, 33; nos.13–14 (1959), 6; nos.15–16 (1960), 49

Subbarāma Dīksitar: Sangīta-sampradāya-pradarśinī (Ettaiyapuram, 1904; Tamil trans., 1961–8)

Subbarāma Dīksitar: Bālaśiksā sampradāya … (Ettaiyapuram, 1905) [primer for Sangīta-sampradāya-pradarśinī]

V.N. Bhatkhande: Hindustānī-sangīta-paddhati (Bombay, 1910–32; Hindi trans., 1951–7)

O. Thākur: Sangītāñjalī, i (Lahore, 1938, 2/1959); ii (Hathras, 1954); iii–vi (Varanasi, 1955–62); vii–viii (MSS)

A. Daniélou and N.R. Bhatt, eds. and trans.: Textes des Purāna sur la théorie musicale (Pondicherry, 1959)

P.L. Sharma: ‘Brhaddeśī of Matanga’, Indian Music Journal, nos.11–12 (1970), 54–8; nos.13–14 (1971), 56–68

G.H. Tarlekar: Studies in the Nātyaśāstra (Delhi, 1975, 2/1991)

P.L. Sharma: ‘Nānyadeva’s Bharata Bhāshya’, Indian Music Journal, no.11 (1975–80), 65–73

A. Mette: ‘Ein Musiktheoretischer Traktat im Jainakanon’, Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde Südasiens, xxiv (1980), 83–97

S. Ramanathan: ‘The Sangita Sara of Sri Vidyaranya’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, li (1980), 57–77

S. Sita: ‘The Raga Lakshana Manuscript of Sahaji Maharaja of Tanjavur’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, liv (1983), 140–81

G.H. Tarlekar: ‘The Śārīralaksana in the Sangītaratnākara’, Gems of Indian Music and Musicology, ed. S. Kulshreshtha and others (Delhi, 1994), 94–6

M. Lath: ‘The Body as an Instrument: a Theoretical Choice Made by Śārngadeva’, Prakrti: the Integral Vision, iii: The Āgamic Tradition and the Arts, ed. B. Bäumer (New Delhi, 1995), 101–13

P. Vonessen: Aumāpatam: Kritische Edition, Übersetzung und Kommentar eines Sanskrit-Textes über Musik und Tanz (Frankfurt, 1996)

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music., Bibliography

other historical sources

Cilappatikāram (c500ce); ed. P.V. Cōmacuntaranār (Madras, 1969)

Nāyak Bakhśū: Sahas-ras (17th century)

B. Dargah Quli Khān: Muraqqa’-i Delhī (1738); Eng. trans. C.S. and S.M. Chenoy as Muraqqa’-i Delhī: the Mughal Capital in Muhammad Shah’s Time (Delhi, 1989)

Singarācāryulu: Gāyaka locana (19th century)

Mirza Mohammad Ruswa [Hadi]: Umrāōjān ādā (n.p., 1899); Eng. trans. K. Singh and M.A. Husaini (Calcutta, 1961/R)

Nazir Ahmad: ‘The Lahjat i Sikander Shabi’, Islamic Culture, xxviii (1954), 410–17

J.C. Jain: The Vasudevahindī: an Authentic Jain Version of the Brhatkathā (Ahmedabad, 1977)

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music., Bibliography

early history

P.R. Bhandarkar: ‘Contribution to the Study of Ancient Hindu Music’, Indian Antiquary, xli (1912), 157–64, 185–95, 254–65

A.A. Bake: Bydrage tot de kennis der voor-Indische muziek (Paris, 1930)

V. Raghavan: ‘Music in Ancient Indian Drama’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xxv (1954), 79–92 [repr. from Art and Letters: Journal of the Royal India, Pakistan and Ceylon Society, xxviii/1 (1953), 10–18]

V. Raghavan: ‘Some Names in Early Sangita Literature’, Bulletin [Sangeet Natak Akademi], no.5 (1956), 19–28; no.6 (1957), 23–30 [rev. from Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, iii (1932), 11–32, 94–102]

S. Ramanathan: Music in Cilappatikaram (Madurai, 1979)

N. Ramanathan: ‘Gāndharva Forms’, National Centre for the Performing Arts Quarterly Journal, ix/1 (1980), 19–28

L. Rowell: ‘Early Indian Musical Speculation and the Theory of Melody’, JMT, xxv (1981), 217–44

D.R. Widdess: ‘Tāla and Melody in Early Indian Music: a Study of Nānyadeva’s Pānikā Songs with Musical Notation’, Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, xliv (1981), 481–508

M. Lath: ‘Ancient Indian Music and the Concept of Man’, National Centre for the Performing Arts Quarterly Journal, xii/2–3 (1983), 1–8

B. Varadarajan: ‘Ancient Music: the Music of the Sama Veda and the Songs of the Saivite and Vaishnavite Saints’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, lxi (1990), 164–88

L. Rowell: Music and Musical Thought in Early India (Chicago, 1992)

T. Seetharama Lakshmi: References to Music in Non-Sangīta Literature (Bangalore, 1993)

D.R. Widdess: The Rāgas of Early Indian Music: Modes, Melodies and Musical Notations from the Gupta Period to c1250 (Oxford, 1995)

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music., Bibliography

general and later histories

V.N. Bhatkhande: A Comparative Study of Some of the Leading Music Systems of the 15th, 16th, 17th and 18th Centuries (n.p., n.d.) [written 1930]

V.N. Bhatkhande: A Short Historical Survey of the Music of Upper India (Bombay, 1934/R) [a speech given at the All-India Music Conference I: Baroda 1916]

O. Gosvami: The Story of Indian Music (Bombay, 1957, 2/1961)

Swami Prajnanananda: The Historical Development of Indian Music (Calcutta, 1960, 2/1973)

K.S. Lal: Twilight of the Sultanate (Bombay, 1963)

Swami Prajnanananda: A History of Indian Music, i (Calcutta, 1963)

Swami Prajnanananda: A Historical Study of Indian Classical Music (Calcutta, 1965, 2/1981)

A. Ahmad: An Intellectual History of Islam in India (Edinburgh, 1969)

E. te Nijenhuis: Indian Music: History and Structure (Leiden, 1974)

V. Premalatha: Music through the Ages (Delhi, 1983)

C. Capwell: ‘Musical Life in Nineteenth-Century Calcutta as a Component in the History of a Secondary Urban Centre’, AsM, xviii/1 (1986), 139–63

R. Flora: ‘Miniature Paintings: Important Sources for Music History’, AsM, xvii/2 (1987), 196–240 [repr. from Wade, 1983]

B.C. Wade: ‘Mughal Illustrated Manuscripts: Sources for the Documentation of Indian Music History’, Tradition and its Future in Music, ed. Y. Tokumaro and others (Osaka, 1990), 35–41

S.P. Blake: Shahjahanabad: the Sovereign City in Mughal India, 1639–1739 (Cambridge, 1991)

C. Capwell: ‘The Interpretation of History and the Foundations of Authority in the Visnupur Gharānā of Bengal’, Ethnomusicology and Modern Music History, ed. S. Blum, P. Bohlman and D. Neuman (Urbana, IL, 1993), 95–102

M. Trivedi: ‘An Appraisal of the Musical Arts at Shahjahanabad during the First Half of the Eighteenth Century’, Art and Culture: Felicitation Volume in Honour of … S. Nurual Hasan, ed. A.J. Qaisar and S.P. Verma (Jaipur, 1993), 95–103

C. Chatterjee: Śāstrīya Sangīta and Music Culture of Bengal through the Ages (Delhi, 1996)

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music., Bibliography

indian music and the west

J. Kuckertz: ‘Die klassische Musik Indiens und ihre Aufnahme in Europa im 20. Jahrhundert’, AMw, xxxi (1974), 170–84; Eng. trans. (1983)

G.J. Farrell: ‘Sir William Jones and C.R. Day: Two Early Researchers into the Music of India’, Bulletin of the International Council for Traditional Music, UK Chapter (1986), spr., 13–30

R. Head: ‘Corelli in Calcutta: Colonial Music Making in India during the 17th and 18th Centuries’, EMc, xviii (1986), 548–53

R. Head: ‘Holst and India’, Tempo, no.58 (1986), 2–7

P.V. Bohlman: ‘The European Discovery of Music in the Islamic World and the “Non-Western” in the 19th Century History of Music’, JM, v (1987), 147–63

J. Bor: ‘The Rise of Ethnomusicology: Sources on Indian Music c 1780–1890’, YTM, xx (1988), 51–73

R.L. Hardgrave and S.M. Slawek: ‘Instruments and Music Culture in Eighteenth Century India: the Solvyns Portraits’, AsM, xx/1 (1988–9), 1–92

A.D. Ranade: Indology and Ethnomusicology: Contours of the Indo-British Relationship (New Delhi, 1992)

I. Woodfield: ‘Collecting Indian Songs in Late 18th Century Lucknow: Problems of Transcription’, British Journal of Ethnomusicology, iii (1994), 73–88

I. Woodfield: ‘The “Hindostannie Air”: English Attempts to Understand Indian Music in the Late Eighteenth Century’, JRMA, cix (1994), 189–211

G.J. Farrell: Indian Music and the West (Oxford, 1997)

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music., Bibliography

hindustani music

V.N. Bhatkhande: Kramik pustak-mālikā [Progressive book-series] (Bombay, 1913–37; Hindi trans., 1955)

S.N. Karnad: ‘Todi Varieties’; ‘Bilawal Varieties’, All-India Music Conference IV: Lucknow 1925, 159

S.N. Ratanjankar: ‘Kanada Varieties’, All-India Music Conference IV: Lucknow 1925, 172

O.C. Gangoly: Rāgas and Rāginīs (Bombay, 1935/R)

V. Nārāyan Patvardhan: Rāg-vijñān [Rāga knowledge] (Pune, 1936–64); i (8/1972); ii (7/1961); iii (7/1967); iv (5/1968); v (4/1962); vi (2/1964) [7 vols.]

G.H. Ranade: Hindusthani Music: an Outline of its Physics and Aesthetics (Sangli, 1938)

A. Daniélou: North Indian Music (London, 1949–54, 2/1968 as The Rāgas of Northern Indian Music)

S.N. Ratanjankar: ‘Ragas in Hindustani Music’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xxii (1951), 97–105

Vilāyat Husain Khān: Sangīt-jñõ samsmaran [Recollections of a music connoisseur] (New Delhi, 1959)

S.N. Ratanjankar: ‘Gamakas in Hindustani Music’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xxxi (1960), 94–107

V.H. Deshpande: Gharāndāj gāyakī (Bombay, 1961); Eng. trans. as Indian Musical Traditions: an Aesthetic Study of the Gharanas in Hindustani Music (Bombay, 1973)

C.S. Pant: ‘Khyal Compositions from the Point of View of Poetry’, Commemoration Volume in Honour of Dr S.N. Ratanjankar, ed. K.G. Ginde and others (Bombay, 1961), 136–42

Thakur Jaidev Singh: ‘The Evolution of Khyala’, Commemoration Volume in Honour of Dr S.N. Ratanjankar, ed. K.G. Ginde and others (Bombay, 1961), 127–32

N.A. Jairazbhoy and W.A. Stone: ‘Intonation in Present-Day North Indian Classical Music’, Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, xxvi (1963), 119–32

Amir Khan: ‘The Tarana Style of Singing’, Music East and West: New Delhi 1964, 22–3

C.S. Pant: ‘Lochana’s Ragatarangini’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xxxvi (1965), 67–75

P.L. Sharma: ‘The Concept of Sthaya in Indian Sangitasastra’, Indian Music Journal, no.3 (1965), 29–35

P.L. Sharma: ‘A Glossary of Sthayas’, Indian Music Journal, no.4 (1965), 33–41; no.5 (1966), 29–38

V.R. Athavale: Pandit Vishnu Digambar (New Delhi, 1967)

P.K. Dīksit: Nāyak-nāyikā bhed aur rāga-rāginī vargīkaran [The Nāyak-Nāyika distinction and the rāga-rāginī classification] (Varanasi, 1967)

S.N. Ratanjankar: Pandit Bhatkhande (New Delhi, 1967)

D. Śrīvāstav: Prācīn bharat-mẽ smgīt [Music in north India] (Varanasi, 1967)

W. Kaufmann: The Ragas of North India (Bloomington, IN, 1968)

R.C. Mehta: Āgrā gharānā: paramparā, gāyakī aur cīzẽ [The Agra gharānā: lineage, style and compositions] (Baroda, 1969)

V.H. Deshpande: ‘The Aesthetic Laws of Khyal’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xlii (1971), 122–31

N.A. Jairazbhoy: The Rāgs of North Indian Music: their Structure and Evolution (London, 1971)

N.A. Jairazbhoy: ‘Factors Underlying Important Notes in North Indian Music’, EthM, xvi (1972), 63–81

P.L. Sharma, ed.: Sahasrasa: Nāyak Bakhśū ke dhrupadom kā sangrah (New Delhi, 1972) [Eng. trans. as ‘Sahasarasa: a Compilation of Dhrupad Texts Ascribed to Bakshoo: Synopsis of a Treatise’, Indian Music Journal, nos.15–20 (1972–4), 41–8]

L.K. Malhotra: ‘My Father, my Guru’, Sangeet Natak, no.29 (1973), 17–34

B.K. Roy Choudhury: ‘The Senia Gharana of Rampur’, Sangeet Natak, no.29 (1973), 5–8

R. Shankar: ‘Ustad Allaudin Khan’, Sangeet Natak, no.29 (1973), 9–16

B.C. Wade: ‘Chīz in Khyāl: the Traditional Composition in the Improvised Performance’, EthM, xvii (1973), 443–59

J. Bor: ‘Raga, Species and Evolution’, Sangeet Natak, no.35 (1975), 17–48

K.C.D. Brhaspati: Dhruvapada aur uskā vikās [Dhrupad and its evolution] (Patna, 1976)

C. Karnani: Listening to Hindustani Music (Bombay, 1976)

H.S. Powers: ‘The Structure of Musical Meaning: a View from Banaras’, PNM, xiv/2–xv/1 (1976), 308–34

B. Silver: ‘On Becoming an Ustād: Six Lives in the Evolution of a Gharānā’, AsM, vii/2 (1976), 27–58

R. Sonnenschmidt: Bhairavī-rāginī: Studien zu einen Nort-Indischen Melodietyp, NGOMA, iv (Munich, 1976)

B.N. Goswamy: ‘Those Moon Faced Singers: Music and Dance at the Royal Courts in the Panjab’, National Centre of the Performing Arts Quarterly Journal, vii/1 (1978), 1–10

V.H. Deshpande: Ālāpinī (Bombay, 1979); Eng. trans. as Between Two Tampuras (Bombay, 1989)

Amjad Ali Khan: My Guru, my father (New Delhi, 1979)

S.K. Saxena: The Winged Form: Aesthetical Essays on Hindustani Rhythm (New Delhi, 1979)

M.V. Dhond: The Evolution of Khyāl (New Delhi, 1980)

E. Keesing: Hazrat Inayat Khan: a Biography (The Hague, 1980)

D.M. Neuman: The Life of Music in North India: the Organization of an Artistic Tradition (Detroit, 1980/R)

N. Sorrell and R. Narayan: Indian Music in Performance: a Practical Introduction (Manchester, 1980) [incl. cassette]

W. Van der Meer: Hindusthani Music in the Twentieth Century (The Hague, 1980)

S.K. Saxena: Aesthetical Essays: Studies in Aesthetic Theory, Hindustani Music and Kathak Dance (Delhi, 1981)

M. Nadkarni: At the Centre: Fifteen Musicians of Madhya Pradesh (Bhopal, 1982)

D. Ghosh, ed.: The Great Shankars: Uday, Ravi (Calcutta, 1983)

W. Van Beek: Hazrat Inayat Khan (New York, 1983)

N.P. Ahmad: Hindustani Music: a Study of its Development in the 17th and 18th Centuries (New Delhi, 1984)

G.N. Joshi: Down Melody Lane (Bombay, 1984)

A.D. Ranade: On Music and Musicians of Hindoostan (New Delhi, 1984)

B.C. Wade: Khyāl: Creativity within North India’s Classical Music Tradition (Cambridge, 1984)

J.L. Erdman: Patrons and Performers in Rajasthan: the Subtle Tradition (Delhi, 1985)

S. Misra: Music Makers of the Bhatkhande College of Hindustani Music (Calcutta, 1985)

F. Delvoye: ‘Bibliography on Dhrupad’, Dhrupad Annual (1986), 95–115; (1987), 119–21; (1988), 98–102; (1989), 105–7; (1990), 117–20; (1991), 30–33; (1992), 112–15; (1993), 86–90; (1994), 56–60; (1995), 125–8

M.R. Gautam: ‘The Concept of Rāga in Hindustani Music’, Aspects of Indian Music, ed. S. Mutatkar (New Delhi, 1987), 13–18

M. Lath: ‘Dhrupad kā itihās: ek naī drsti kā āgraha’ [The history of dhrupad: a plea for a new approach], Dhrupad Annual, ix (1987), 28–32 [incl. Eng. summary]

N. Owens: ‘The Dagar Gharānā: a Case Study of Performing Artists’, AsM, xviii/2 (1987), 158–95 [repr. from Wade, 1983]

M. Lath: ‘What is Khyal?’, National Centre for the Performing Arts Quarterly Journal, xvii/1 (1988), 1–11

Z. Yusuf, ed.: Rhythms of the Lower Indus: Perspectives on the Music of Sindh (Karachi, c 1988)

P. Manuel: Thumrī in Historical Perspective (Delhi, 1989)

S. Nayar: Bhatkhande’s Contribution to Music: a Historical Perspective (Bombay, 1989)

A.D. Ranade: Keywords and Concepts: Hindustani Classical Music (New Delhi, 1990)

S. Misra: Musical Heritage of Lucknow (New Delhi, 1991)

P. Moutal: A Comparative Study of Selected Hindustānī Rāgas Based on Contemporary Practice (New Delhi, 1991)

P. Moutal: Hindustānī Rāgas Index: Bibliographical References on Descriptions, Compositions and Vistāras of Hindustānī Rāgas Based on Selected Major Contemporary Works in Devanāgarī (New Delhi, 1991)

H. Powers: ‘Reinterpretations of Tradition in Hindustani Music: Omkarnath Thakur contra Vishnu Narayan Bhatkhande’, The Traditional Indian Theory and Practice of Music and Dance, ed. J.B. Katz (Leiden, 1992), 9–51

D. Chaudhuri, ed.: Indian Music and Mushtaq Ali Khan (New Delhi, 1993)

B.R. Deodar: Pillars of Hindusthani Music (Bombay, 1993) [Eng. trans. from Marathi]

T.W. Ross: ‘Forgotten Patterns: Mīrkhand and Amir Khan’, AsM, xxiv/2 (1993), 89–110

S. Slawek: ‘Ravi Shankar as a Mediator between a Traditional Music and Modernity’, Ethnomusicology and Modern Music History, ed. S. Blum, P. Bohlman and D. Neuman (Urbana, IL, 1993), 161–80

F. Delvoye: ‘The Thematic Range of Dhrupad Songs Attributed to Tānsen, Foremost Court-Musician of the Mughal Emperor Akbar’, Studies in South Asian Devotional Literature, ed. A.W. Entwhistle and F. Mallison (New Delhi, 1994), 406–29

D.R. Widdess: ‘Festivals of Dhrupad in Northern India: New Contexts for an Ancient Art’, British Journal of Ethnomusicology, iii (1994), 89–109

N.A. Jairazbhoy: The Rāgs of North Indian Music (Bombay, 2/1995)

F. Delvoye: ‘La transmission des répertoires dans la musique vocale hindustānī: l’example des chants dhrupad attribués à Tānsen, premier musicien de la cour d’Akbar’, Purusārtha, xviii (1996), 69–84

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music., Bibliography

karnatak music

C.R. Day: The Music and Musical Instruments of Southern India and the Deccan (London, 1891/R)

P. Sambamoorthy: South Indian Music Series (Madras, 1927–, rev. and enlarged 7/1966–9, 11/1983)

N.S. Ramachandran: The Rāgas of Karnatic Music (Madras, 1938)

V. Raghavan: ‘Some Musicians and their Patrons about 1800 ad in Madras City’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xvi (1945), 127–36

R. Rangarāmānuja: Kriti mani mālai [Necklace of kritis]) (Madras, 1947–53, 2/1965–7)

S. Vidya: Kritis of Syama Sastri (Madras, 1947–8)

K. Ramachandran: Daksinarāga-ratnākaram [Ocean of southern rāgas] (Madras, 1949)

V. Appa Rao: ‘Kshetrajna’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xxi (1950), 110–29

K.V. Ramachandran: ‘Carnatic Ragas from a New Angle’, ‘Carnatic Ragas and the Textual Tradition’, ‘Apurva Ragas of Tyagaraja’s Songs’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xxi (1950), 88–109

V. Appa Rao: ‘The Vizianagaram Music Manuscripts’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xxiii (1952), 153–65; xxiv (1953), 125–34

Summary of the Raga Lakshana, ed. the Music Academy (Madras, 1952)

P. Sambamoorthy: A Dictionary of South Indian Music and Musicians (Madras, 1952–71, 2/1984)

C.S. Ayyar: 108 Kritis of Sri Tyagaraja: Text and Notation (Madras, 1955)

V. Raghavan: ‘Sri Muttuswami Dikshitar’, ‘Why is the Mridanga so called?’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xxvi (1955), 131–47, 148ff

A. Sunderam Ayyar, ed.: Śrī Dīksita-kīrtana-mālā [Garland of Diksita kīrtanas] (Madras, 1955–79) [15 vols.]

H.S. Powers: The Background of the South Indian Rāga System (diss., Princeton U., 1959)

P. Sambamoorthy: Great Musicians (Madras, 1959, 2/1985)

P. Sambamoorthy: Great Composers, i (Madras, 2/1962); Tyagaraja (Madras, 1954, 2/1970)

V. Raghavan: Bhoja’s Śrngāra-prakāśa (Madras, 1963)

P. Sambamoorthy: Tyagaraja (New Delhi, 1967)

N. Chennakesaviah: ‘The Spread and Development of Tyagaraja Kirtanas in Mysore’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xxxix (1968), 73–7

K.C.D. Brhaspati: ‘Muslim Influence on Venkatamakhi and his School’, Sangeet Natak, no.13 (1969), 5–26

J. Kuckertz: Form und Melodiebildung der karnatischen Musik Südindiens (Wiesbaden, 1970)

T.S. Ramakrishnan: ‘Sri Subbarama Dikshitar and his Contributions’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xli (1970), 194–207

N.S. Ramachandran: ‘The Concept of Alapa according to Lakshana Granthas; with Reference to Karnataka Music’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xlii (1971), 98–112

R.R. Ayyangar: History of South Indian (Carnatic) Music (Madras, 1972)

J. Kuckertz: ‘Die Kunstmusik Südindiens im 19. Jahrhundert’, Musikkulturen Asiens, Afrikas und Ozeaniens, ed. R. Günther (Regensburg, 1973), 97–132

V. Raghavan, ed.: Muttuswami Dikshitar (Bombay, 1975) [incl. index of works]

S. Sita: ‘Contribution of Sahaji Maharaja of Tanjore to Music and Dance’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xlvi (1975), 68–95

S. Venkitsubramonia Iyer: Swati Tirunal and his Music (Trivandrum, 1975)

J. Higgins: ‘From Prince to Populace: Patronage as a Determinant of Change in South Indian (Karnatak) Music’, AsM, vii/2 (1976), 20–26

W. Kaufmann: The Rāgas of South India: a Catalogue of Scalar Material (Bloomington, IN, 1976)

S. Sita: ‘Muttuswamy Dikshitar and Venkatamakhi’s Tradition’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xlvii (1976), 116–50

S. Bhide: ‘King Shahaji’s “Prabandha”’, National Centre for the Performing Arts Quarterly Journal, vi/2 (1977), 28–41

S. Sita: ‘Music and Dance during the Time of Vijayaraghava Nayak of Tanjore’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xlviii (1977), 139–50

T. Vishwanathan: ‘The Analysis of Rāga Ālāpana in South Indian Music’, AsM, ix/1 (1977), 13–71

V. Raghavan: ‘Shri Shyama Shastri’, National Centre for the Performing Arts Quarterly Journal, vii/1 (1978), 8–15

S. Srinivasa Rao: ‘A Comparative Study of Muttuswami Dikshitar and Other Composers, Purandaradasa and Kshetrajna’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xlix (1978), 126–44

S. Venkitasubramonia Iyer: ‘The Stava Varnas of Swati Tirunal’, Sangeet Natak, no.58 (1980), 39–46

G. Kuppuswamy and H. Hariharan: Index of Songs in South Indian Music (Delhi, 1981)

S. Seetha: Tanjore as a Seat of Music during the 17th, 18th and 19th Centuries (Madras, 1981)

S.R. Janakiraman: ‘An Analytical Study of Tyagaraja’s Compositions’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, liii (1982), 126–35

B. Nettl: ‘A Tale of Two Cities: Musical Culture in Modern Tehran and Madras’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, liii (1982), 105–10

B. Rajanikanta Rao: ‘Kshetrayya and his Padams’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, liii (1982), 111–25

S. Venkitasubramonia Iyer: ‘Irayimman Tampi’s Contribution to Music and Dance’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, liv (1983), 83–96

H.S. Powers: ‘Musical Art and Esoteric Theism: Muttusvāmi Dīksitar’s Ānandabhairavī Kīrtanams on Śiva and Śakti at Tiruvārūr’, Discourses on Śiva, ed. M.W. Meister (Philadelphia, 1984), 317–40

A. Catlin: ‘Pallavi and Kriti of Karnatak Music: Evolutionary Processes and Survival Strategies’, National Centre for the Performing Arts Quarterly Journal, xiv/1 (1985), 26–44

Gottu Vadya Sakharam Rao: ‘Maharashtrian Musicians of Karnatic Music’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, lviii (1987), 110–16

E. te Nijenhuis and S. Gupta: Sacred Songs of India: Dīksitar’s Cycle of Hymns to the Goddess Kamalā (Winterthur, 1987)

S. Ramanathan: ‘The Concept of the Rāga in Carnatic Music’, Aspects of Indian Music, ed. S. Mutatkar (New Delhi, 1987), 9–12

R. Sathyanarayana: ‘Karnātaka Music: a Synoptic Survey’, Aspects of Indian Music, ed. S. Mutatkar (New Delhi, 1987), 29–75

R.L. Simon: ‘Tyagaraja and the South Indian Bhajana Sampradaya’, AsM, xx/1 (1988–9), 114–27

G. Kuppuswamy and H. Hariharan, eds.: Musical Works of Mahārāja Swāti Tirunāl (Delhi, 1990)

T.S. Parthasarathy: ‘The Pancha Ratna Kritis of Sri Tyagaraja’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, lxi (1990), 146–59

W.J. Jackson: Tyāgarāja: Life and Lyrics (Madras, 1991)

G. Kuppuswamy and M. Hariharan: ‘Compositions of the Ettayapuram Rulers’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, lxii (1991), 82–94

T.S. Parthasarathy: ‘Margadarsi whom Swati Tirunal Followed’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, lxii (1991), 72–81

B.K. Ramaprabha: ‘Contribution of Shri Purandaradasa to Karnataka Music’, Gleanings of Indian Music and Art, ed. L. Omcherry and D. Bhalla (Delhi, 1991), 1–73

K. Anand Varma: ‘Contribution of Kerala Composers to Karnātak Music’, Gleanings of Indian Music and Art, ed. L. Omcherry and D. Bhalla (Delhi, 1991), 309–72

S.R. Jayasitalakshmi: ‘The Varnas of the Dikshitar Family’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, lxiii (1992), 108–17

T.V. Kuppuswami: Carnātic Music and the Tamils (Delhi, 1992)

W.J. Jackson: ‘Features of the Kriti: a Song Developed by Tyāgarāja’, AsM, xxiv/1 (1992–3), 19–66

J. Higgins: The Music of Bharata Natyam (New Delhi, 1993) [incl. cassette]

W.J. Jackson: ‘Tyagaraja and the Bhakti Community’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, lxiv (1993), 70–78

B. Dayananda Rao: Carnatic Music Composers: a Collection of Biographical Essays (Hyderabad, 1994)

W.J. Jackson: Tyāgarāja and the Renewal of Tradition (Delhi, 1994)

T.V. Subba Rao and S.R. Janakiraman, eds.: Ragas of the Sangita Saramrta by King Tulaja of Tanjore (Madras, 1994)

K. Hansen: ‘Performing Identities: Tyāgarāja Music Festivals in North America’, South Asia Research, xvi/2 (1996), 155–74

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music., Bibliography

instruments

F. Fowke: ‘On the Vina or Indian Lyre’, Asiatick Researches, no.1 (1788), 295–9 [repr. in Tagore, 1875; S. Gupta: Music of India (Calcutta, 1962)]

C. Sachs: Die Musikinstrumente Indiens und Indonesiens (Berlin, 1915, 2/1923/R)

C. Marcel-Dubois: Les instruments de musique de l’Inde ancienne (Paris, 1941)

M.V. Cāmi Aiyar: Mirutanka pātamurai [Mrdangam compositions] (Tiruvannamalai, 1946/R)

Ś. Vandyopādhyāy: Sitār-mārg [Sitar method], ii–iii (Delhi, 1953–7)

S. Ethirajan: Mrdanga-svabodhinī [Mrdangam tutor] (Madras, 1956)

B.K. Roy Choudhury: ‘The Veena-paddhati of Hindusthani Music’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xxviii (1957), 72–6

B. and R. Dās: Mrdang-tablā-prabhākar [Illumination of mrdanga and tablā] (Hathras, 1959–60)

Bh. Śarmā: Tāla-prakāś [Light on tāla] (Hathras, 1959, 4/1970, ed. L. Garga)

R.E. Brown: The Mrdanga: a Study of Drumming in South India (diss., UCLA, 1965)

S. Krishnaswami: Musical Instruments of India (New Delhi, 1965/R)

D. Murphy: ‘The Structure, Repair and Acoustical Properties of the Classical Drums of India’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, xxxvi (1965), 223–47

Bh. Śarmā: Sitāramālikā [Sitār garland] (Hathras, 3/1966, ed. L. Garga)

S. Vaśisth: Tāl-mārtand [Illumination of tāla] (Hathras, 4/1967)

K.S. Kothari: Indian Folk Musical Instruments (New Delhi, 1968), 64–6

T. Venkatarama Iyer: The Art of Playing Mrdangam (Madras, 1969)

N.A. Jairazbhoy: ‘A Preliminary Survey of the Oboe in India’, EthM, xiv (1970), 375–88

L.M. Miśra: Bhāratīya sangīta-vādya [Indian musical instruments] (New Delhi, 1973)

R.M. Stewart: The Tabla in Perspective (diss., UCLA, 1974)

B.C. Deva: ‘The Double-Reed Aerophone in India’, YIFMC, vii (1975), 77–84

N.A. Jairazbhoy: ‘The South Asian Double-Reed Aerophone Reconsidered’, EthM, xxiv (1980), 147–56

A. Dick: ‘the Earlier History of the Shawm in India’, GSJ, xxxvii (1984), 80–98

K.S. Subramanian: ‘An Introduction to the Vina’, AsM, xvi/2 (1985), 7–82

R. Flora: ‘Spiralled-Leaf Reedpipes and Shawms of the Indian Ocean Littoral: two Related Regional Traditions’, Musicology Australia, ix (1986), 39–52

I. Wrazen: ‘The Early History of the Vīnā and Bīn in South and Southeast Asia’, AsM, xviii/1 (1986), 25–55

J. Bor: ‘The Voice of the Sarangi’, National Centre for the Performing Arts Quarterly Journal, xv/3–4 (1986); xvi/1 (1987), 9–183

J. Kippen: The Tabla of Lucknow: a Cultural Analysis of a Musical Tradition (Cambridge, 1988)

R. Flora: ‘Observations on the Hindustani Śahnāī: its Structure and Performance Techniques’, Von der Vielfalt Musikalischer Kultur: Festschrift für Josef Kuckertz, ed. R. Schumacher (Salzburg, 1992), 1–4, 207–16

A. Miner: Sitar and Sarod in the 18th and 19th Centuries (Wilhelmshaven, 1993)

J.S. Hamilton: Sitar Music in Calcutta: an Ethnomusicological Study (Delhi, 1994)

R. Flora: ‘Styles of the Śahnāī in Recent Decades: from naubat to gāyakīang’, Yearbook for Traditional Music, xxvii (1995), 52–75

India, Subcontinent of, §III: Theory and practice of classical music., Bibliography

aesthetics

A.A. Bake: ‘The Aesthetics of Indian Music’, British Journal of Aesthetics, iv/1 (1964), 47–57

P.L. Sharma: ‘Rasa Theory and Indian Music’, Sangeet Natak, no.16 (1970), 57–64

P.L. Sharma: ‘Rāga and Rasa’, IMSCR XII: Berkeley 1977, 525–28

S. Ray: ‘Tagore on Music and Musical Aesthetics’, Sangeet Natak, no.56 (1980), 17–43

S.K. Saxena: ‘The Concept of Raga: an Essay in Understanding’, Sangeet Natak, nos.101–2 (1991), 32–46

J.B. Katz: ‘Music and Aesthetics: an Early Indian Perspective’, EMc, xxiv (1996), 407–20

Although the origin of thumrī has commonly been ascribed to the Lucknow court of Wajid Ali Shah (ruler of Avadh, 1847–56), thumrī considerably predates this era. Precedents can be found in related genres such as pānika, nādavatī, carcarī and caccarī (catuspadī), dating from the first millennium ce, in which female dancers would choreographically interpret erotic and/or devotional texts. Numerous references to ćarćarī in subsequent centuries suggest strong affinities with modern thumrī in the association with Krsna-worship, the use of the Braj Bhāsā dialect, and performance by courtesans. Extant references to thumrī proper date from the 1660s and 70s, and by the early 1800s the genre had emerged as a light song-type accompanying amatory courtesan dance. In subsquent decades, as patronage shifted from the declining Mughal elite to Lucknow-based landlords and courtiers, thumrī evolved rapidly, and male as well as female classical musicians came to cultivate it as a musical genre in its own right. The prevailing contemporary style was the bandiś (‘composition’) thumrī, which featured lively textual-melodic variations (bol bānt) on a composition generally set in Tīntāl, often in conjunction with kathak dance.

IV. Semi-classical genres.

Thumrī and ghazal are two of the most popular urban forms of song in north India. Both genres are referred to as ‘light’ or ‘light-classical’ because of their emphasis on the melodic elaboration of lyrics, rather than on displays of virtuosity or scrupulously correct rendition of rāga, and because of their use of modes and metres resembling those of regional folk musics, that is, regionally distinct, nonélite traditional musics lacking bases in theoretical treatises. Until the mid 20th century, both genres were also associated with courtesan dance. While the lyric content of both genres is predominantly amatory, thumrī is usually composed in the Braj Bhāsā dialect of Hindi and reflects the influence of the devotional Hindu movement, bhakti. Ghazal is usually composed in Urdu and is strongly influenced by the Sufi mystic movement of Islam.

1. Thumrī, dādrā and tappā.

In the first half of the 20th century, the modern style of thumrī coalesced, predominantly in Varanasi, emphasizing a more sentimental style of melodic-textual elaboration (bol banāo), typically set to 14- or 16-beat cycles variously called Dīpcandī, cāñcar or Jat. Despite the evident derivation of these metres from folk musics and the use of a fast, folk-influenced concluding or intermittent laggī section also influenced by local traditions, the modern thumrī acquired a semi-classical sophistication that enabled it to adapt well to the transition from feudal to bourgeois patronage and from the courtesan salon to the modern concert hall. In the mid-20th century, Punjabi vocalists popularized a somewhat lighter style of thumrī, featuring more lavish ornamentation and greater usage of the six-beat Dādrā and eight-beat Kaharvā tālas.

The text of thumrī is not restricted to any precise rules of versification and, in some instances, even takes the form of a prose-poem. The subject-matter of these songs is often based on the legends of Krsna, an incarnation of the Hindu deity Visnu, particularly those that concern his relationship with Rādhā and the other gopī (milkmaids). In the songs, it is generally Rādhā or an unnamed woman who is expressing her feelings, either directly to her beloved or to a friend. In spite of this, thumrī may be rendered by either a male or female singer. The songs have specific topics, such as description and praise of the beloved, the lover lamenting the absence or anticipating the arrival of the beloved, and the pangs of separation. The dominant ethos (rasa) of these songs is amorous (śrngāra) and pathetic (karuna). In connection with bhakti, however, these themes are thought to be allegorical, God being the beloved; they represent man’s search for union with God.

Thumrī generally employs a specific set of rāgas and tālas that are unique to light-classical music and that bear affinities to those used in north Indian folk musics. As in other north Indian vocal forms, a thumrī has two composed sections, sthāyī and antarā, each consisting of one or two lines of poetry. These two sections are based on different registers of the rāga in which the thumrī is composed, the antarā generally being the higher.

There are several features that distinguish thumrī from other north Indian vocal forms such as khayāl. The ornaments used in thumrī are generally quicker and lighter in character, and there is greater freedom in the use of alternative notes, some of which would not be acceptable in the performance of a khayāl. Moreover, it is not unusual for a thumrī singer to introduce a temporary change of rāga. Thumrī and khayāl are both largely improvised, but the type of improvisation in thumrī is mainly bol banāo, which may take the form of overt word-painting or, more typically, affective lyric elaboration via repeated melismatic variation of a fragment of text. Ex.16 illustrates bol banāo in thumrī.

The thumrī begins virtually without a prelude (ālāp). The text lines are repeated as often as the singer wishes, each time with a different melodic interpretation. Typically, at the conclusion of the song the singer returns to the first line, repeating it while the player of the tablā, who has until this moment been marking time, improvises at a considerably faster tempo. This section, called laggī, is generally in a cycle of eight beats (Kaharvā) or 16 beats (Tīntāl) even though the thumrī itself may have been sung in a different time measure. At the end of the tablā improvisation the musicians revert to the original tempo and time measure, at which point the song may be concluded or repeated in its entirety with new improvisations.

Vocal thumrī is accompanied by tablā, tanpūrā (tambūrā) and a melodic instrument, traditionally the sārangī or, more commonly today, the harmonium. Although thumrī is primarily a vocal form it can often be heard as an instrumental piece, the voice being replaced by one of the solo instruments used in Hindustani music such as the sitār, sarod, śahnāī or basurī. While instrumental thumrī cannot incorporate bol banāo, it employs the ornamentation, phrasing and raga and tāla repertory of the vocal thumrī style.

The term dādrā, aside from referring to a common six-beat cycle, also denotes a semi-classical vocal genre, closely related to thumrī but having a somewhat lighter character. In dādrā the singer generally employs Dādrā or Kaharvā tāla and maintains a more lively rhythmic lilt; dādrā lyrics are exclusively amatory and often include verses in Urdu as well as Braj-bhāśā.

Tappā represents a quite distinct genre of semi-classical music. Its origin is generally attributed to Shori Mian, believed to be the pen-name of Ghulam Nabi, a singer in the Lucknow court of Asaf-ud-daulā, nawab of Avadh (1776–97). In tappā, the vocalist sings an incessant series of frenetic fast runs (tāna) characterized by circular, zigzag melodic motion (zamzamā), generally set to the 16-beat Sitārkhāni tāla. Both improvisations as well as the compositions themselves are rendered in this style, which is said to have been inspired originally by the rapid ornamentation found in Punjabi music. Tappā survived until the mid-20th century as a demanding and difficult genre, cultivated especially by Varanasi-based courtesan singers; it is now seldom heard.

2. Ghazal.

Ghazal is a form of Urdu poetry that was introduced into India by the conquering Muslims as part of their Persian cultural heritage. The word ghazal is derived from the Arabic root that denotes ‘to talk amorously with women’, and thus the poetry is, superficially, sensual and erotic. However, it is much influenced by the mystic ideas of Sufism, where the beloved is really God and the poet yearns for union with Him. One of the great attractions of this poetic form is its appeal on different levels: the erotic, the mystical and the philosophical. Modern poems in the genre occasionally contain social and political comment.

The formal occasion for the recitation of this poetry was the muśāirā (‘poetic symposium’), where poets were invited to recite their poems to a critical audience, a practice that still continues. Urdu poetry developed under court patronage, as did much north Indian classical music, but the two appear to have had little influence on each other. It is generally stated that Amir Khusrau introduced the musical form of the ghazal at the end of the 13th century. The singing of ghazal, however, only gained prominence in the 18th and 19th centuries at the courts of the rulers of Delhi, Lucknow and Rampur, where it was the preserve of the court dancing-girls and courtesans. Thus there was, until modern times, a social stigma associated with the singing of ghazal, which was also a reflection of the censure of music by the orthodox Muslim community.

The ghazal consists of an indeterminate number of couplets (śer), which are thematically independent and united only by the metre and rhyme-scheme. In order to achieve epigrammatic condensation of expression, couplets generally rely on a stock set of conventional metaphors, imagery and topics – especially unrequited love – most of which derive from the Persian poetic tradition. Both couplets of the first lines rhyme; in the succeeding couplets the original rhyme scheme is maintained in the second line. The rhyme scheme is thus aa, ba, ca etc. This pattern is generally reflected in the melody, the line with rhyme a being sung to one tune, the other lines (b, c etc.) being sung to a second related tune generally in a higher register. Typically, each verse is followed by an instrumental interlude, which in the light-classical style would take the form of laggī. The most common metres used are variants of the eight-beat Kaharvā, the six-beat Dādrā, and, less often, the seven-beat Rūpak tālas.

Given its versatility and its suitability to musical rendering, ghazal has thrived as a musical genre in various forms. Hindi-language poems in a loose ghazal form have been widely sung in Hindu devotional contexts. The Urdu ghazal, however, is more extensively cultivated, both as a musical and literary genre. In the muśāirā the ghazal is either recited or chanted in a style called tarannum (see §V, 1 below), probably introduced in the 19th century. There are many similarities between this style of chanting and ghazal song as described above, the main difference being that the tarannum is not in a fixed time measure and follows the metre of the poem more closely than does the song. Also, the tarannum is chanted without instrumental accompaniment. The courtesan tradition of ghazal singing is gradually dying out, but may still be heard in private homes, small concerts and, occasionally, on the radio. The singing of ghazal is also practised by Qavvāls (professional Muslim religious singers); this tradition appears to be thriving. A typical Qavvāl group consists of three or four singers accompanied by dholak, harmonium and bulbultarang (a plucked board zither). A considerable element of spontaneity is provided by the interpolation or improvisation of new verses. At the end of each verse the singers often introduce purely melodic vocalizations, while the audience assimilates the verse content. These improvisations are generally classical in style and often involve a change of rāga.

While knowledge of Urdu-based styles practised in the 19th century is limited, it is clear that ghazal flourished as a related genre to thumrī, performed, especially in Lucknow, primarily by courtesans and often accompanying interpretive mimetic dance. Early 20th-century phonograph recordings of ghazal reveal a somewhat classical orientation in the usage of virtuoso tāna (fast melodic run) techniques. In subsequent generations, singers such as Begum Akhtar (d 1974) cultivated a more distinctively light-classical style, which resembled thumrī in its emphasis on bol banāo (rendered on the non-rhyming lines) and the use of a standard accompaniment of tablā, tanpūrā and sārangī and/or harmonium. In its greater emphasis on the text and its correspondingly lesser scope for abstract melodic elaboration, ghazal has been regarded as ‘lighter’ than thumrī. As such, it has generally been performed not by classical singers but by specialists in light music, whose ranks, since the mid-20th century, are no longer dominated by courtesans.

With the advent of sound film in 1931 ghazal became an important component of north Indian film music, and distinctive styles of film ghazal soon emerged. Since the emergence of a mainstream film music style in the 1940s, film ghazal came to be distinguished by the absence of improvisation, the use of more accessible tunes and diction, the replacement of the laggī interlude with a pre-composed instrumental passage and the use of an extensive accompanying ensemble typically containing both Western and Indian instruments. Accordingly, the film ghazal, unlike its connoisseur-orientated counterpart, came to enjoy mass popularity. By the 1970s, however, ghazal became less common in film music, perhaps due to the incompatability of its romantic character with the popularity of action-orientated films and disco-influenced soundtracks.

Nevertheless, during this decade a new style of ghazal -singing was popularized by Pakistani singers Mehdi Hasan and Ghulam Ali, combining the leisurely pace and improvisatory approach of the light-classical style with, to some extent, the accessibility of film music. The new ‘pop’ ghazal emerged in association both with cassette technology, which enabled it to bypass the film industry, and with the emergence of a more extensive and self-aware north Indian bourgeoisie (Manuel, 1993). The new ghazal is performed and listened to widely by Hindi and Urdu-speaking Hindus as well as Muslims throughout the subcontinent.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

thumrī

P.L. Sharma: ‘The Origin of Thumari’, Aspects of Indian Music (New Delhi, 1957, enlarged 2/1970), 73

C. Desai: ‘Thumri through the Ages’, Journal of the Indian Musicological Society, vii/3 (1976), 41–51

J. Singh: ‘The Evolution of Thumri’, National Centre for the Performing Arts Quarterly Journal, v/2 (1976), 10–15

P. Manuel: ‘The Evolution of Modern Thumri ’, EthM, xxx (1983), 470–90

S. Shukla: Thumrī kī utpattī, vikās aur śailiyān [The origin, development and styles of thumrī ] (Delhi, 1983)

P. Banerjee: Dance in Thumri (New Delhi, 1986)

P. Manuel: Thumri in Historical and Stylistic Perspectives (Delhi, 1989)

R.C. Mehta: Thumri: Tradition and Trends (Bombay, 1990)

V. Rao: ‘Thumri as Feminine Voice’, Economic and Political Weekly (28 April 1990), 31–9

ghazal

N.A. Jairazbhoy: ‘L’Islam en Inde et au Pakistan’, Encyclopédie des musiques sacrées, ed. J. Porte, i (Paris, 1968), 454–63, esp. 460

P. Manuel: ‘A Historical Survey of the Urdu Gazal-Song in India’, AsM, xx/1 (1988–9), 93–113

P. Manuel: ‘Cassettes and the Modern Ghazal ’, Cassette Culture: Popular Music and Technology in North India (Chicago, 1993), 89–104

R.B. Qureshi: ‘Musical Gesture and Extra-Musical Meaning: Words and Music in Urdu Ghazal’, JAMS, xliii (1990), 472–96

The word as sound is a concept basic to all domains of South Asian culture. Accordingly, a wide range of poetry is chanted in a variety of languages and in contexts ranging from entertainment to religious practice. Generally termed recitation, such poetry covers traditional epics such as the Hir ranjha chanted for Punjabi village audiences, Urdu poets presenting their works at mushā'iras (formal assemblies of literary élites) and poetic texts in all major Indian religions, from the scriptural chanting of religious specialists to congregational litanies. Some chant melodies are widely known, such as the Rām dhun used to chant the Rāmāyana, or the masnavi tune linked to the Sufi verses of Rumi. In all Indian music the relationship between music and poetry is of some importance, but in poetic chant this relationship is particularly significant.

V. Chant

Since in chant the word is of primary importance, it is necessary to approach chanted poetry through the word rather than through its musical realization. Performing style, form and, especially, rhythm are likely to be the principal musical means of conveying features of poetic structure and meaning as well as of recitational context. Rhythm, by governing the duration of pitch in time, further extends the influence of these poetic features to the melody. The tonal range and melodic motifs of chant melody are, however, subject to influence from widely disseminated popular and art music as well as regional traditional genres, all of which contribute to a common musical milieu.

Tarannum, the chanting of Urdu poetry, and Hindu Vedic chant (see §2 below) illustrate certain general principles underlying musical recitation, where features of musical style are determined by the characteristics of spoken language and poetic structure as well as by the context and meaning of the text.

1. Tarannum.

Urdu is the national language of Pakistan and one of India's 18 official languages. Its main centres are the cities of Pakistan and northern and western India, and Hyderabad in the south. As the literary language and lingua franca developed by the Muslims in India, it continues to represent South Asian Muslim culture. Urdu poetry, a highly formalized art, has a distinctly Persian flavour, since its symbolism and imagery as well as the poetic forms, metres and scansion rules are derived from Persian and Arabic models. The predominant form is the ghazal (see §IV, 2 above), a lyrical and philosophical love-poem, structured in couplets that are independent in content but linked by a common theme and a recurring rhyme pattern. As a favourite form of cultivated entertainment and self-expression this poetry is chanted in tarannum style both formally by poets at the mushā'ira (symposium) and informally by other Urdu speakers.

Tarannum is categorized as recitation, not singing or music, and it is appreciated only in terms of the poetry it supports. Accordingly it appertains to the respected sphere of the poet and not to the socially inferior realm of the professional musician. This strict separation of chanting from singing exempts tarannum from the Islamic religious censure of singing and instrumental music; hence it is the only form of secular ‘music’ widely practised by South Asian Muslims.

The music of tarannum is dominated by the text. The style of performance emphasizes aspects of verbal communication: words are pronounced as in spoken declamation and even consonants are enunciated according to their natural duration in speech. The rhythm and tempo of speech are generally maintained. The smallest formal unit, the poetic line, is normally free from interruption and internal repetition, but complete lines are repeated and pauses are introduced as part of the spontaneous interaction between reciter and audience. Voice production is highly idiosyncratic, reflecting the reciter's speaking voice rather than a standard vocal model, such as exists in singing. To some extent the vocal quality of tarannum is determined by the predominance of long vowels in the poetic vocabulary and of long syllables in the metric structure.

Tarannum is strictly strophic in formal structure. Each couplet contains two contrasting tunes that correspond to the sthāyī–antarā principle of north Indian art music. The first, non-rhyming line of the couplet is generally set to an antarā -like tune with a high tessitura (the upper tetrachord of the octave); the second, rhyming line is set to a sthāyī-like tune with a low tessitura (the lower tetrachord, with tonic emphasis). The melodic cadences of both tunes often correspond.

The rhythm of tarannum is derived from the poetic metre (exx.17 and 18). The complex metric system of Urdu poetry, rooted in Arabic prosody, is based on a variety of long–short patterns. In the musical realization of the poetic metre the long and short syllables form the basis for long and short durational units. Both the duration and the mutual relationship of these units are highly variable, which accounts for the rhythmic diversity of tarannum. This variability may express semantic as well as structural factors in the text. The relationship between long and short durational units may also be consistent, resulting in rhythmic regularity and a tendency to replace length with stress (see ex.18).

Melodically, tarannum belongs in the context of north Indian semi-classical music and is subject to the influence of the current musical environment, including popular recorded music. The melodic content extends from motifs with a narrow tonal range to rāga-types. Chant tunes are characterized by their portability (a tune can be ‘carried’ from one poem to another) and potential for variation. The same tune may be adapted to poems which differ widely in length and metrical scheme (exx.17 and 18). Conversely, the same poem may be chanted to more than one tune. There thus exists a repertory of reciting tunes that performers modify in accordance with the poem and their own personal style. Poets also create new tunes of their own, thereby enriching the repertory. Specific melodic and rhythmic settings may thus become attached to particular poems and associated with the personal reciting style and vocal profile that poets cultivate as part of their creative personality. Another facet of performance is declamatory freedom to interrupt and repeat verse lines within a poem as part of a reciter's interaction with the audience.

Tarannum recitation has also been extended to kavisammelan, assemblies for the recitation of Hindi poetry that follows Sanskrit-derived formal principles. Today tarannum is internationally disseminated by touring poets who recite at mushā'iras held in South Asian communities in North America, Britain and the Gulf States.

2. Sāmavedic chant.

The sāmavedic chant is commonly supposed to represent the earliest surviving form of Indian music; it has been traditionally regarded by theorists as the source of all Indian art music. This claim must be treated cautiously, however, since there must have existed numerous other musical elements and influences in religious, secular and ceremonial practice from very early times.

The four Vedas (veda primarily means ‘knowledge’) are collections of early Sanskrit hymns and ritual texts originating in the religious beliefs and practices of the early Aryan settlers in South Asia. The hymns of the Sāmaveda – the Veda of ‘chants’ or ‘melodies’ (sāman) – are for the most part also contained in the primary hymn collection of the Rgveda. However, in the Sāmaveda they are rearranged in two series of verses (ārcika), the first according to the deities they address and the poetic metres used, the second according to the ritual and liturgical contexts in which the verses are recited. There are no musical directions, but special song-manuals (gāna) of more recent origin give melodies in notation, as well as the modifications to the basic text – lengthened and additional syllables etc. – which are employed in the sung versions of the hymns.

In earlier and ancient sources many sāmavedic ‘schools’ (śākhā) are said to have existed. The transmission of the melodies and their performance procedures was sustained by strict training within each school, and strict and orthodox accuracy within each of them was crucial for the efficacy of religious ritual. Three such schools survive today, called the Jaiminīya or Talavakāra, the Kauthuma and the Rānāyanīya. The gānas, and other later practical handbooks of performance attached to the different schools, appear to have been compiled as mnemonic aids to a primarily oral tradition. The other handbooks include works on timing, metres, pitch varieties and ritual uses of the chants and the magical and apotropaic lore related to them. In some of these Vedic ‘ancillary’ Sanskrit texts can be found a tendency to relate some features of sāmavedic recitation and music, and its notation, to the later post-Vedic pitch systems. Research over the last century has increasingly supported the view that textual study and present-day field observation can illuminate each other, and pioneering studies by J.F. Staal (1961) and Wayne Howard (1977 and 1988) have thrown much light on the relation of practice and theory.

The sāman verses can be performed in private recitation or in a more open ritual context of the sacrifice. At the more elaborate of the great public (śrauta) sacrifices the priests sing a number of stotra s, laudatory compositions formed of complexes of verses from the Vedic hymns. The portions (bhakti) of each of the composite stanzas (stotrīya) are performed by one or more of a trio of specialist sāmavedic priests called the prastotr (introductory singer), udgātr (principal singer) and pratihartr (responsorial singer). The verbal text is modified in various ways to fit the prescribed melodic form in a melismatic style; it is possible that the melodies existed already and the verses had to be ‘set’ to them. On the basis of the texts and the practical manuals, up to eight different methods of ‘alteration’ have been identified, and the different recensions of the sāmavedic śākhā, and different traditions even within each of these, show a variety of ways of adapting the texts within the essential rules of practice. In the Kauthuma manuscripts the Sanskrit text is accompanied by an interlinear numerical notation of five figures, and in the Rānāyanīya by a syllabic notation, in which the symbols are used to indicate musical phrases. Ancient sources name seven ‘tones’ (svara s, not to be confused with those of post-Vedic musical systems), and it seems that the figures and letters refer to items in a repertory of phrases or motives. The gāna texts use the figures also as mnemonic indications of gestures (mudrā) made with the thumb and fingers of the right hand, these being themselves partly a mnemonic means to assist in the learning and transmission of the sāman melodies.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

J.F. Staal: Nambudiri Veda Recitation (The Hague, 1961)

W. Bright: ‘Language and Music: Areas for Cooperation’, EthM, vii (1963), 26–32

A. Ahmad: Studies in Islamic Culture in the Indian Environment (Oxford, 1964/R), 73ff, 218–62

R. Qureshi: ‘Tarannum: the Chanting of Urdu Poetry’, EthM, xiii (1969), 425–68

A. Parpola: ‘The Literature and Study of the Jaiminīya Sāmaveda in Retrospect and Prospect’, Studia Orientalia, xliii/6 (1973), 1–33

J. Gonda: Vedic Literature: Samhitās and Brāhmanas (Wiesbaden, 1975)

W. Howard: Sāmavedic Chant (New Haven, CT, 1977)

M. Witzel: ‘Materialen zu den Vedischen Schulen’, Studien zur Indologie und Iranistik, no.7 (1981), 109–32; nos.8–9 (1982), 171–240; no.10 (1984), 231–37

J.F. Staal: The Vedic Ritual of the Fire Altar (Berkeley, 1983)

G.H. Tarlekar: The Sāman Chants: a Review of Research (Baroda, 1985)

W. Howard: Veda Recitation in Vārānasī (Delhi, 1986)

W. Howard: The Decipherment of the Sāmavedic Notation of the Jaiminīyas (Helsinki, 1988)

G.U. Thite: Music in the Vedas: its Magico-Religious Significance (Delhi, 1997)

I Write I Recite, HMV (India) 7EPE 1274 (n.d.) [incl. disc notes by S. Badayuni and H. Jaipuri]

VI. Religious musics

South Asian religious practices range from the localized worship of village goddesses to such trans-national religions as Islam and Christianity. Buddhism, Sikhism, Jainism and the religious complexes that make up Hinduism all have their origins in South Asia. These overlapping and competing webs of religious belief and ritual are expressed by an equally varied set of musics. (For the history and musical practices of Buddhism in South Asia see Buddhist music and Tibetan music, §2(ii); for South Asian Jewish traditions see Jewish music, §III, 8(v).)

Islamic domination of India, which began in the 12th century, was most powerful in the 17th century. During this time the bhakti movement continued to spread and develop, inspired by waves of fervent singing poet-saints and spurred by Muslim religious oppression. At the same time religious acculturation occurred through the blending of Sufi (Muslim mystic) and Hindu concepts. The iconoclast Kabīr (d 1550) is representative of this infusion, as is Guru Nānak (d 1539), founder of Sikhism, a religion that combines Hindu and Muslim concepts.

1. Hindu.

Bhajan (from Sanskrit: bhajana) is the generic term identifying popular Hindu religious songs associated with bhakti, an approach to union with God. The bhajan literature is extensive, comprising many thousands of songs in many languages, including Sanskrit. Bhajan also denotes a genre of religious ritual exercised in all parts of India. The rites are usually congregational, ranging in number of participants from three or four to many thousands. The Sanskrit words bhajana and bhakti are both derived from the root word bhaj (‘to share’ or ‘to give of’) and are connected with an approach to God in which the relationship of the worshipper to the deity is based on attitudes of love.

Bhakta s (devotees) see God as personalized, an image that is not a single idealization, but one that reflects the infinite variety of the universe. All Hindu deities are seen as representing aspects of the one supreme Godhead, and icons are seen as containing within them the essence of God. In ritual the deity is treated as a royal guest and tended lovingly by the bhakta s. The God is garlanded with flowers, bathed, clothed in new garments, offered refreshments and praised in song and dance. The ceremony, in its entirety, is a mystical expression of adoration of the deity by the worshippers. The concept of approaching God through love can be traced down through the Upanishads and the Epics (especially the Bhagavad gītā) to the medieval Purāna. In the Bhāgavata purāna the doctrine of bhakti is crystallized into a set of attitudes and acts, the performance of which would aid the worshipper in his aim of union with God. Various attitudes of love may be expressed allegorically in song texts that depict God, the only true male, in the love relationship with the woman who symbolizes mankind. Two additional tenets of bhakti doctrine are the efficacies of listening to the praises of God and the singing of holy names. The themes used in bhajan texts are based on various kinds and levels of love, praises and repetition of God’s names.

Bhakti as a dominant force in Hinduism began to develop as a theistic reaction against heretical (atheistic) Buddhism and Jainism in southern India in about the 6th century ce. The movement was divided into two sects: one, worshippers of the God Śiva, called Nāyanar, the other, devotees of Visnu, called Ālvār. They disseminated their religious doctrines through songs of devotion composed in the vernacular. Groups of worshippers advocating surrender to God moved about the countryside from temple to temple led by zealous poet-singers, singing, dancing and engaging in heated debates. Deified poet-singers of both sexes and from all social strata kindled a revival of Hinduism through bhakti that eventually engulfed all of India. The revival also generated the ācārya s (teachers), religious leaders who reinterpreted the ancient scriptures to meet the needs of their own times, and who in the process laid the philosophical foundations for future bhakti developments. The most influential were Śankara (d c820 ce), Rāmānuja (d 1137) and Madhva (d 1278). They were followed by Nimbārka (fl 12th century), Rāmānanda (fl 14th century), Vallabha (d 1531) and Chaitānya (d 1533). In addition to their general religious influences they aroused generations of poet-singers who carried their spiritual messages in song. Jayadeva (fl 12th century), the composer of the Gīta-govinda, belongs with this group because of the vast influence this work has had on the course of bhakti up to modern times.

The revival initiated by the Nāyanar and Ālvār was continued by the Vīraśaiva (Lingāyat) and Haridāsa of Karnataka, and from there spread to the north, where the tradition of singing poet-saints reached its culmination with Tukaram (d 1649). Eventually every vernacular region produced its own poet-singers: Raidās, Mīrābāī, Dadu, Tulasī Dās, Sūr Dās, Vidyāpati, Candi Dās, Rāmprasād and Śankardeva in the north; in the south Purandara Dās, Arunagirinathar, Nārāyana Tīrtha, Bhadrācala Rāma Dāsa, Tyāgarāja, the most venerated southern composer, and the three Tāllapākam composers whose activities were centred on Tirupati (south-eastern Andhra Pradesh) at the Venkateśa temple. It was they, a family of three generations of poet-singers, who during the 16th century established the southern ritual form, as well as important classical forms. They also introduced dancing into the bhajan ritual.

Ritual environments are not specified in Hinduism; bhajan s may be performed anywhere, inside or outside, alone or collectively. Sometimes buildings or other enclosed structures are built or used exclusively for bhajan rituals. The traditional public focus for worship is the temple and its surroundings. Various sects have established matha s (monasteries), which often house resident monks and in which worship is performed daily. The mandal (‘association’) often comprises members of regional enclaves or worshippers of regional deities. The traditional Hindu home contains an area or room set aside for family and friends to worship in.

There is wide variation in both the location and the length of a bhajan performance. It may range from an hour or two up to many days if special rites are being observed. Some rituals take place during the day, others at night; most are carried out weekly, commencing at dusk, requiring two to four hours for completion. Attendance is often open to people of varying social strata; there may be from three or four to over 50 people, either of one sex only or mixed. The ritual sequence also differs regionally and from one group to another. It is composed primarily of bhajan songs performed in an ordered series, beginning and ending with formulae, that is, auspicious mantras or songs. The main body of songs accompanies worshipful acts such as the offering of food and flowers, the waving of lights, and symbolic dances. Rituals vary greatly in format from complex structures to the singing of a single phrase, repeated continuously.

The prosody of bhajan texts either conforms to or is influenced by traditional Sanskrit forms such as pada and śloka. Forms in which the names or praises of a deity are expressed can be arranged under the general heading jāpa (‘repetition’) and are as follows: the text of the nāmāvali (‘row of names’) consists of names, praises or supplications directed to the deity; sahasranāma (‘1000 names’) consists of a catalogue of 1000 names of a deity symbolizing the deity's attributes as being infinite. Nāma parāyana refers to the repetition of a single name such as Rāma or Śiva; a short phrase consisting of deities’ names, called, in some regions, pundarīkam, is used in group ritual. Usually a mukhrā (signature), the composer’s name or pseudonym, is incorporated into the last stanza of a text. All textual themes are based on the attitudes of love and are augmented by the use of names, praises and supplications, including philosophical and didactic elements.

The musical elements in bhajan are intended to convey the all-important words. The rhythms used are comparatively uncomplicated, usually employing a tāla (time cycle) consisting of four beats. Melodies, especially those sung congregationally, are simple, direct and generally lack the complexities found in classical music. Bhajan songs are composed in rāgas that are limited to a few identifiable characteristics and are therefore easily recognized by the general public. Bhajan songs generally include either refrain-type or jāpa forms; the number of lines in refrains and stanzas and the numbers of repetitions of refrains vary with each performance. The jāpa forms vary in musical characteristics from the intoning of a single name to sahasranāma, which uses a range of a few pitches, and nāmāvali, responsorial songs employing ranges equal to refrain-type songs. The pundarīkam, which is also responsorial, uses only two pitches. It is a formula song that announces the topic to follow or the deity to be addressed in the subsequent song. The śloka and comparable vernacular forms are performed solo and unaccompanied and are often associated with meditative sections of the ritual.

Musical instruments are used to accompany most bhajan songs and rituals. Although drums and cymbals are most common, any instruments may be employed by worshippers. Regional origins are reflected in the sizes and shapes of instruments and in other factors, including performance techniques. Drums, in particular, are drawn from both classical and folk traditions. Pairs of brass cymbals (tāl, tālam), generally ranging from 2 to 15 cm in diameter and varying greatly in shape and gauge, are struck together by singing devotees. Wooden or metal clappers (kartāl) of varying size with jingles or tiny bells mounted on them are also played by worshippers. The harmonium, a keyboard instrument originally brought to India by Christian missionaries, is a highly valued instrument. It is used as a melodic guide and general accompaniment while also providing the drone. The tambūrā (a long-necked fretless lute) and śruti -box (either an electronic drone or a small harmonium with a limited number of reeds) are also widely used drone instruments. Drum and harmonium players usually have some musical training and may be classed as amateurs or part-time professionals. Some instrumentalists and a few singers are paid for performing in bhajan rituals, but the motivation for all, including professionals, is worship.

Religious music is the main musical expression of the South Asian Muslim community. It has a viable and varied tradition and embodies regional Indian as well as supra-regional Islamic cultural elements.

2. Muslim.

South Asian Muslim religious music falls into two broad categories that from both a religious and a musical point of view are distinctly separate. One may be termed scriptural or liturgical or, according to Islamic theological tradition, talhīn (cantillation), the other non-scriptural or non-liturgical vocal performance or, in Arabic, inshād (plural nashā’id, invocations). Both are central to the active religious life of Muslims throughout the Indian subcontinent. The urban areas of past and present Muslim domination are the centres of Muslim religious music. The fact that this musical tradition cuts across geographical boundaries is directly related to the strongly supra-regional aspect of Islam, which is particularly notable in South Asian Muslim culture.

Islamic theology proscribes secular music as unlawful and dangerous; hence, Muslim religious music is not conceived of as music but falls into the permitted category of recitation or chant, where musical features are subordinated to religious text and function (see §V, 1 above). Since the use of musical instruments is identified with secular music, they are not used in chant (except for the unorthodox tradition of qavvālī; see below). South Asian Muslim religious music is generically related to other Islamic chant forms.

South Asian Muslim scriptural music is collectively called qir’at and includes all Qur’anic and liturgical texts in Arabic, including the call to prayer (āzān), the prayer ritual (namāz) and salutations (salām). Qir’at is chanted universally, by religious functionaries and laymen, in public and private settings. As the chanting of sacred texts, this tradition adheres closely to the established Arabic model imparted at theological schools. The layman’s qir’at is generally modified towards an Indian tonal idiom.

Non-liturgical vocal performance falls into three categories identified by their respective contexts: the Shī‘a majlis, the Sufi qavvālī and the Sunni mīlād. All three categories have their roots in Iran and indirectly in Arabia, and they share a set of basic traits. The primary context for all non-liturgical music is the religious assembly of a devotional or commemorative character focussing on principal religious figures of Islam. At each of these assemblies a variety of hymns and chants is performed in a standard order by more or less trained performers with limited audience participation. All texts are in vernacular poetry, principally in Urdu, the chief South Asian Muslim language. Other languages used regionally to some extent are Hindi, Punjabi, Sindhi, Pashto, Kashmiri, Gujarati and Bengali, in addition to classical Persian, which was formerly prevalent. The music itself represents a combination of characteristics derived from the text and a generally north Indian musical idiom. In the musical form, the sthāyī–antarā principle of north Indian song is adapted to the formal schemes of the poetry with extensions and improvisations. The rhythm is based on the metric structure of the poem. Different musical realizations of its long–short patterns result in several rhythmic styles. Melodically, non-liturgical music is related to north Indian art and semi-classical music, ranging from complex rāga structures through traditional and popular melodies to rudimentary reciting tunes. The performance style, directly linked to the function of communicating religious poetry and conveying religious emotion, is characterized by emphasis on declamation as well as on beauty of vocal expression.

(i) Majlis.

The majlis (‘assembly’) encompasses all musical expression of the South Asian Muslim Shī‘a community, a minority that gained cultural prominence through several Shī‘a dynasties on the subcontinent. Shī‘a religious practice is characterized by its emphasis on the mourning for the martyrdom of the imam Husayn, grandson of the Prophet Muhammad. As an assembly for the chanting of elegiac and commemorative poetry the majlis is the heart of Shī‘a religious observance and may be private or public. Majlis are attended by all Shī‘as during the Muslim month of Muharram, but may also be held throughout the year.

The five invocational forms of the majlis are sōz, salām (ex.19), marsiyā, nauha and mātam (ex.20), each stylistically and musically different. Sōz, salām and marsiyā derive from classical song, using specific rāgas and even substituting a vocal drone (ās) for the instrumental drone of classical song. The performers are usually trained professionals (Sōzkhwān, Marsyākhwān), but they may also be semi-professionals. Nauha and mātam reflect traditional or popular song and are performed by semi-professionals and amateurs, especially local chanting societies (anjuman). Here too a substitute for an instrument is used in the form of rhythmic chest beating, which provides mātam invocations with a regular pulsation. All five invocational forms represent versions of two rhythmic styles. Both are based on the long–short succession of the poetic metre and group the poetic feet in a variety of ways. One is an irregular rhythmic style, recitative-like and declamatory (ex.19), the other a regular rhythmic style with an underlying pulse and patterned into musical metres (ex.20).

Among linguistically/regionally defined traditions are the Ismaili ginan. These are a poetic repertory of Shi‘a chant in Gujarati. They are central to the religious assemblies of Ismaili communities in both India and Pakistan. In Bangladesh the prominent genre of Shi‘a vernacular music is jarigan, set to Bengali poetry.

(ii) Qavvālī.

Sufism, a major force in South Asian Muslim history and well-established throughout South Asian Islam, has developed its own poetry and music as an essential means for devotional expression and the attainment of religious ecstasy (hāl). Qavvālī or mahfil-i samā ’ (‘gathering for listening’) is the musical assembly held by Sufis throughout the year, but principally on the anniversary (’urs) of the numerous Sufi saints at their shrines or wherever their devotees may gather. The term qavvālī denotes the Sufi song itself, and only by implication the occasion of its performance.

The most authentic performers (Qavvāl) are hereditary professionals tracing their origin and performing tradition to the 13th-century poet and musician Amir Khusrau, who was linked with the Chishtī order of Sufism. Qavvālī is also performed by many other professionals in a less traditional style and by devotees at various shrines. The poetry in Urdu and Persian emphasizes either mystical love through the ghazal poetic form (see §IV, 2 above) or the praise of God, the Prophet and saints or imams through the hymn forms of hamd, na‘t and manqabat. Hymns based on poetry of both types constitute the main part of a qavvālī assembly; they are flanked traditionally by two hymns attributed to Amir Khusrau: qawl and rang. Qavvālī normally combines group and solo singing and is accompanied by drum, harmonium and hand-clapping. Percussion has traditionally been exempt from religious prohibition by Sufis because it articulates the heart beat and provides an essential stimulus to religious ecstasy.

Musically qavvālī is linked with the north Indian khayāl tradition of singing. The formal scheme combines metric group refrains and rhythmically free solo improvisations, including rapid melismatic passages. There is an incessant repetition of salient text phrases that build towards or maintain the state of ecstasy, and different verses and tunes are freely added within any one song. Qavvālī rhythm is dominated throughout by the poetic metre, which is realized either in a declamatory style of improvisation superimposed on the continuing drum pattern or in a regular style where the pattern of the poetic metre fits into the drum pattern, generally four-beat time (Qavvālī tāla) or six-beat time (Dādrā tāla). Qavvālī melody derives from several sources: classical rāgas, rāga-like structures peculiar to the qavvālī tradition and traditional melodies are used within any one song to form several short tunes, with their many variations and melodic improvisations. In performance, emphatic enunciation and extremely rhythmic declamation are the most prominent features. Qavvālī is now freely performed outside the religious context and adapted accordingly, using a variety of instruments, texts with a popular appeal, and a more regularized form.

(iii) Mīlād.

Mīlād (from Arabic mawlid: ‘birthday’), the assembly celebrating the birthday of the Prophet Muhammad, is widespread among the Sunni majority, particularly among women, and is therefore the most widespread form of South Asian Muslim non-liturgical music. Mīlād mainly consists of hymns of devotion and praise to God and the Prophet (hamd, na‘t and munājāt), usually performed by one or more semi-professionals alternately with appropriate narration or a sermon, some of which is chanted. The congregation joins in the standard closing hymn of salutation to the Prophet (salām) and sometimes in the simple chant of praise (durūd) interspersed with the hymns.

Of the three categories of non-liturgical music, mīlād has the most orthodox environment and lacks a tradition of professional performance, hence it is musically the least sophisticated. Its relatively large standard repertory of hymns is characterized by a preference for poetic metres with a regular pattern and by tunes with a limited tonal range and certain typical motivic formulae.

Outside the context of the three major religious assemblies described above, non-liturgical chant can be heard in a variety of other settings, including school and home as well as staged events for professionally performed qavvālī. In a religious community so strongly marked by gender separation, women hold separate and more frequent gatherings of mīlād and majlis than men, but qavvālī remains essentially a male domain.

(iv) Modern trends.

Recording and broadcasting technology have had a considerable impact on repertory and dissemination beyond religiously sanctioned contexts and has turned qavvālī performers such as the Sabari brothers and Nusrat Fateh Ali into stars of a genre that represents nation as well as religion. This has propelled qavvālī into the world music soundscape. Conversely, the proliferation of cassette recordings displays the sectarian as well as linguistic and regional diversity of religious hymns. Recordings have also brought Arabic musical influence, less to vernacular genres than to Qur’anic recitation.

In general the enormous spread and prestige of recorded and transmitted sound has led to Muslim religious music being adapted and standardized but also to it being preserved and enhanced, particularly in Pakistan with its strongly Islamic cultural climate. In India, minority Muslim communities tend to preserve traditional chanting practices but, as in Pakistan, qavvālī has become modified into a popular trend and much recorded genre.

The approximately 30 million Christians in India constitute a diverse set of communities differentiated variously in terms of race, language, region and caste. Migrations, conquests and colonizations over the centuries have shaped their history, and the resulting interactions between local traditions and external ones, especially those of the Middle East and Europe, have generated a wide spectrum of Christian musical styles, from the predominantly European to the more distinctively indigenous.

3. Christian.

(i) The Syrian churches.

The liturgical and non-liturgical songs of the Christians in south India refer to the mission and martyrdom of St Thomas the Apostle, who, according to traditional belief, established Christian communities in the region now known as Kerala in the 1st century ce. The St Thomas Christians, as they are known, celebrate the life of the saint in songs and dances such as mārgam kali (‘dance of the Christian way’). Persian Christians, who started migrating to Kerala in the 4th century, introduced the Chaldean liturgy in Syriac. Owing to hierarchical relations between the Indian and the Chaldean churches (from at least the middle of the 5th century) and to the use of the Syriac liturgy, ecclesiastical documents name the St Thomas Christians also as Syrians.

As a result of a series of divisions that took place among the St Thomas Christians from 1653 to 1908, there are five independent churches in Kerala: the Syro-Malabar Church, the Church of the East (Nestorian Church), the Syrian Orthodox Church, the Syro-Malankara Church and the Marthoma Church. The first two of these churches follow the Chaldean liturgy, originally in East Syriac; the others use the Antiochean (also known as Jacobite) liturgy, originally in West Syriac. During the process of vernacularizing the liturgies in the 1960s, translators took special care to adjust the texts in Malayalam to the metre and melody of the original Syriac chants. For instance, Syro-Malabar congregations sing the melody transcribed in ex.21, which is designated by the first two words of the Syriac text, kambel māran (‘receive O! Lord’), in the Office for the Dead with Malayalam translation of the text.

It is probable that a number of melodies that were once part of the common repertory of the Syrian churches in the Middle East and India are now extant only in Kerala. However, the existing melodies appear to have been indigenized somewhat over the course of time by incorporating musical elements such as the Karnatak seven-beat Miśracāpu and six-beat Rūpakam tālas.

While maintaining different melodic repertories, the musics of the Chaldean and Antiochean liturgies in Malayalam share many common features: unaccompanied antiphonal singing of monophonic hymns; use of modal melodies as a compositional device; textual and melodic incipits; syllabic setting of text; neumatic or melismatic ornamentation of either the ultimate or the penultimate syllable of a text line or strophic unit; limited melodic range (in most cases of a minor 3rd to a perfect 5th); rhythmically free cadences at the ends of phrases; and the use of more than one metre in the same strophic melody. A number of these features are apparent also in the music of other performance genres of the St Thomas Christians, for example in wedding songs and the songs of mārgam kali (fig.10).

See also Syrian church music.

(ii) The Catholic church.

Portuguese missionaries introduced the Latin rite to south and central India in the early 16th century. The Western music tradition established by the missionaries continues today in the churches of Goa and other metropolitan cities, where choirs sing Western-style hymns in harmony and counterpoint to the accompaniment of instruments such as violin, guitar and keyboard. In spite of initial ecclesiastical disapproval, Catholics in some regions actively participated in local music genres and contributed their own syncretic secular musics, such as the Konkani-language Mandó, dekni and dulpod of Goa and Mangalore.

Since the 1960s the more tolerant attitude ushered in by the Second Vatican Council (1962–5) towards ‘non-Christian’ religions and their parent cultures facilitated the adaptation of indigenous dance and musical styles into liturgical and social celebrations. Throughout South Asia Christian bhajan s flourish in forms stylistically similar to their Hindu counterparts (see §1 above). The numerous Ādivāsī converts to Catholicism in north India often recycle their traditional melodies with Christian texts and perform them to the accompaniment of dance. Gujarati Catholics dance the rās and garba (local dances otherwise associated with the Hindu navarātra festival) during Christian feasts, with song texts based on biblical themes. A number of Catholic cultural institutions in the north and south train students in bharata-nātyam, a south Indian classical dance performed with Christian lyrics.

(iii) The Protestant churches.

From the early 18th century, various Protestant missions from Europe and America evangelized in the east and north-east. The missionaries translated German chorales and Anglican hymns into South Asian languages (keeping the original melodies) for the new converts, who came mostly from the lower castes. The proselytization policies of the missionary groups have impacted variously in different regions. For instance, a general antipathy towards indigenous cultures together with the exclusive promotion of Western-style hymn-singing appears to have led to a marked decline of indigenous traditional music in the north-eastern states of Meghalaya, Nagaland, Manipur and Mizoram. In the south, however, the pioneering Lutheran missionaries, in particular, encouraged local musicians to compose songs in indigenous styles. Thus, there are two stylistically different music traditions among Protestant churches in south India popularly distinguished as ‘hymns’ and ‘lyrics’. German and English hymns and their translations in local languages are referred to as ‘hymns’, and indigenous compositions, such as kīrtanam, as ‘lyrics’.

The initiative to adopt south Indian art music to express Christian faith came mostly from singer-poets who converted to Protestant Christianity in the 18th and 19th centuries. Vedanayagam Sastriyar (1774–1864) in Tamil Nadu, Purushothama Chaudhari (1803–90) in Andhra Pradesh, and Mosavalsalam Sastrikal (1847–1916) in Kerala, to name but a few, created a vast corpus of Christian poetic literature in their native languages. They composed poems following the kīrtanam of Karnatak classical music, using the tripartite structure of pallavi, anupallvi and caranam. These poems remain an integral part of worship, even though congregations do not always adhere strictly to the rāga and tāla prescribed by the composers.

Sikhism was founded in the Punjab in the latter half of the 15th century by the Guru Nānak (1469–1539). The Sikhs follow the teachings of ten guru s (‘teachers’) and the scriptures of their holy book, the Guru Granth Sāhib, written predominantly in Punjabi and compiled by 1604. Sikhs regard performing or listening to religious music as the primary form of worship; thus music plays a significant role in Sikh life. Their aim is for union with God and to break the cycle of reincarnation (moksa) by conquering the vices of kām (lust), krodh (anger), lobh (greed), moh (worldly attachment) and ahankār (pride). The guru s maintained that performing or listening to religious music was the ideal way to achieve this.

4. Sikh.

Sikh religious music, or śabd kīrtan, consists of hymns known as śabd s (mostly from the Guru Granth Sāhib), containing the teachings of six of the ten Sikh gurus, Hindu and Sufi saints and court singers (bhatts). The orally transmitted repertory developed over a period from the 15th to the 18th century (the time of the tenth guru). The term kīrtan was adopted from the Hindu bhakti movement and today may refer to either a collection of śabd or the performance of the hymns (kīrtan is thought of as being performed only for worship, not for a secular event). The texts of the śabds conform to Indian poetic forms of the time, often from local traditions (e.g. salok, pauri, chant, sohilā and var).

The melodies of the śabds are based either on Hindustani rāgas (except rāga Mānjh, which is particular to the Punjab) or Punjabi traditional melodies (dhuni s). Śabds following rāgas use little ornamentation and are in sthāyī-antarā form. The Guru Granth Sāhib contains śabds in 31 different rāgas in a given order (see Table 21). The largest number of śabds are in rāga Gaurī; rāgas Srī, Āsā and Rāmkali are also popular. The settings of texts draw on the ras of each rāga to help convey specific themes (Guru Rāmdas, the fourth guru (1534–81), is particularly noted for this). Strict adherence to the melodic characteristics of the rāga was considered less important than whether a given melody expressed the text well, and sometimes rāgas were adapted and varied, often by including elements of another. The śabds that are in a rāga follow Hindustani tālas, those in dhuni, traditional Punjabi rhythmic cycles.

TABLE 21: Śabds in the Guru Granth Sáhib

Order	Rāga name	Order	Rāga name


1.	Śrī	17.	Gaund
2.	Mānjh	18.	Rāmkali
3.	Gāuri	19.	Nat
4.	Āsā	20.	Māligāura
5.	Gujari	21.	Māru
6.	Devgandhāri	22.	Tukhāri
7.	Bihāgrā	23.	Kedārā
8.	Vadhans	24.	Bhairo
9.	Sorath	25.	Basant
10.	Dhanāsari	26.	Sārang
11.	Janitsari	27.	Malhār
12.	Tōdī	28.	Kānadā
13.	Bairāri	29.	Kalyān
14.	Tilang	30.	Prabhāti
15.	Suhi	31.	Jaijavanti*
16.	Bilāval

*Added later.

Many instruments have been used in the past to accompany kīrtan, including pakhāvaj, sārindā, rabāb, sārangī, sitār, tāmbūra, taoos, kartāl, dholak and dhādh. Today the most commonly used instruments are the harmonium and tablā.

There are three types of kīrtan performers (kīrtaniyas): rabābis, rāgīs and dhādhīs. Rabābi s (for example, Guru Nānak’s accompanist Mardana) were professional Muslim Mīrāsīs, whose lineage is almost extinct today. Rāgīs are often itinerant and non-professional musicians and the most common singers in gurdvāras (Sikh temples). The kīrtan ensemble usually consists of three rāgīs: two harmonium players (one of whom may also play a stringed instrument or cymbals) who sing, and a tablā or jor (‘pair’ of drums, identical or similar to the tablā) player who usually does not. These musicians may be men or, less commonly, women. Members of the congregation may volunteer to perform śadb kīrtan, in which case women more often sing and play harmonium while men more often play tablā. The dhādhīs are itinerant musicians who sing about social and political history.

Kīrtan may be sung in a traditional (based on Punjabi dhunis) or classical style. Guru Nānak based his singing style on dhrupad; when khayāl became popular it was adopted by the tenth guru (Guru Gobind Singh, 1666–1708). However, the main injunction is that kīrtaniyas should sing clearly to emphasize the text. Ideally, kīrtan should be performed with the sangat (congregation) present. Although the Guru Granth Sāhib mentions the importance of listening to the word of God (bānī), it emphasizes the recitation of bānī and the name of God by the sangat (sadh sangat). At times there is antiphonal repetition of lines between the rāgī and the sangat.

The performance practice of kīrtan has undergone many changes since the compilation of the Guru Granth Sāhib. Over the years some Sikh communities have simplified the rāga melodies and have based kīrtan on popular dhunis and film songs (though the latter are unapproved) to secure public accessibility and to facilitate group singing. While some rāgīs still sing in a classical style (i.e. those officially appointed at gurdwāras), others sing in a semi-classical style, using tālas such as Dādrā, Kaharvā and Tīntāl. Today there is a large population of Anglo-American Sikhs, some of whom have introduced string arrangements of kīrtan.

Jain worship is virtually always accompanied by music: hymn-singing in daily worship at home or in a temple; chorus singing of liturgy; auspicious music marking processions or temple dedications (often played by marching bands); informal group singing at festivals; and songs of praise sung to welcome mendicants or to celebrate the completion of strenuous austerities. Since mendicants are not permitted by doctrine to perform many of the rituals performed by the laity, singing becomes a locus of mendicant devotional practice, especially among Jain nuns. Even the simplest form of worship, darśan, is usually accompanied by a hymn.

5. Jain.

In spite of this ubiquity of music, Jains do not articulate a truly separate musical tradition; for the most part Jain music shares its musicality with the traditional musics of each group of Jains. Gujarati Jains share most of the melodies, timbre, ornamentation, etc. with Gujarati traditional music for weddings or garbā music associated with the Hindu Navrātri festival. Rajasthani Jains use Rajasthani Manganiyār and Dagar musics in their performance styles and melodic repertories.

There are few attributes that mark Jain music as clearly distinct from the local traditions, but there is often a difference in character. Jain music is virtually always performed in a tone of restraint and precision that reflects the dominant Jain religious values of restraint and control. Almost all Jain music seems to strive for the sentiment of peacefulness even in celebration. Another unique feature of Jain music is the use of a seated dance (an adaptation of rās-garbā dances, two facing seated rows of singers clashing short sticks, or dandiya) as percussion to mark time in the performances.

Historical and mythological records are equivocal. Jain mythology credits Rsbhanāth, the founding saint (jina) of this era, with the creation of music. The mythological source for Jain devotional hymns is the Śakra stava, which Śakra (Indra), the king of the Gods, recites to celebrate the birth of each jina. There are a variety of devotional genres called hymns (stotra, stavan and bhāvnā gīt), distinguished from each other by performance context and lyrics. The liturgical texts – pūjā texts, devvandan, pratikraman – include the musical forms (dohā, dhol and chand) associated with the Gujarati and Rajasthani genres (beginning in the medieval period) called rāso and dholā respectively. In the 13th century the rise of temple-dwelling monks led to performances by female dancers and of music in the temples, much like those in the contemporary Hindu temples. This music may well have been related to the classical music of the era and may be a source for some of the rāga designations that one can still find in stavan books. While there are classical rāga designations assigned as melody names for many liturgical texts, they are usually paired with a melody name from a well-known traditional song or the increasingly common Hindi film song melodies.

Despite textual injunctions against women dancing, clapping and leather in temples, Jain music includes all of these today. In the devotional textual tradition one finds references to a few instruments, the most common being bells, especially large brass temple bells, and drums. In contemporary temple practice one usually finds either unaccompanied vocal music or voice accompanied by a double-headed barrel drum (dholak) or a single-sided barrel drum, along with a combination of bells, hand cymbals and tambourines, and the dandiya used in the seated dance described above. It is increasingly common at festivals or major celebrations to find an amplified chorus accompanied by harmonium, bānjo (or bulbultarang), synthesizer and/or tablā replacing the more traditional śahnāī and kettle drum ensemble. The marching band, comprised variously of clarinets, trumpets, drums, śahnāī and portable electric organ, accompany most Jain parades for mendicant initiations, marriages, temple image processions and the procession of those who have completed extensive fasts.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

hindu

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muslim

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A. Sadler: ‘Visit to a Chishti Qawwal’, Muslim World (1963), 287–92

A. Ahmad: Islamic Culture in the Indian Environment, ii (Oxford, 1964/R 1969), 108–66, 218–62

A. Rauf: Renaissance of Islamic Culture and Civilization in Pakistan (Lahore, 1965)

N.A. Jairazbhoy: ‘L’Islam en Inde et au Pakistan’, Encyclopédie des musiques sacrées, ed. J. Porte, ii (Paris, 1968), 460

R. Qureshi: ‘Indo-Muslim Religious Music, an Overview’, AsM, iii/2 (1972), 15–22

A.I.I. Kazi: Shah Abdul Latif: an Introduction to His Art (Hyderabad, 1973)

G. Allana and A.K. Brohi: The Mysterious Music of Mysticism (Karachi, 1974)

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A.S. Mirza: ‘Islam men mausiqi aur qawwali ki riwayat’, Saqafat, i/1 (1975), 39–48

A.S. Mirza: A Note on Qawwali (Islamabad, 1975)

M. Raziuddin: ‘Mausiqi ka tadriji irteqa’, Saqafat, i/3 (1976), 37–40

R.B. Qureshi: ‘Islamic Music in an Indian Environment: the Shi'a Majlis’, EthM, xxv/1 (1981), 41–71

A. Hyderabadi: Qawwali Amir Khusrau se Shakila Bano tak (Delhi, 1982)

Barr-i-Saghir men mausiqi ke Farsi maakhiz (Lahore, 1983)

A.K. Salim: Sindh men Mausiqi (Islamabad, 1984)

R.B. Qureshi: ‘The Mahfil-e-Sama: Sufi Practice in the Indian Context’, Islam in the Modern Age (Autumn 1986), 133–65

R.B. Qureshi: Sufi Music of India and Pakistan: Sound Context and Meaning in Qawwali (Cambridge, 1986; rev. Chicago, 1995)

R.B. Qureshi: ‘Listening to Words though Music: The Sufi Sama’, Edebiyat, n.s. i/2 (1988), 219–45

A. Nayyar: Qawwali (Islamabad, 1988)

R.B. Qureshi: ‘Is there a Muslim Rāga Phenomenon in Hindustani Music?’, Maqam, Raga, Zeilenmelodik: Konzeptionen und Prinzipien der Musikproduktion, ed. J. Elsner (Berlin, 1989), 259–76

R.B. Qureshi: ‘The Urdu Ghazal in Performance’, Urdu and Muslim South Asia: Studies in honour of Ralph Russell, ed. C. Shackle (London, 1989), 175–90

R.B. Qureshi: ‘Sufi Music and the Historicity of Oral Tradition’, Ethnomusicology and Modern Music History: Festschrift for Bruno Nettl, ed. S. Blum and P. Bohlman (Urbana, IL, 1990), 103–20

R.B. Qureshi: ‘Musical Gesture and Extra-Musical Meaning: Words and Music in the Urdu Ghazal’, JAMS, xliii/3 (1991), 472–96

D. Pinault: The Shiites: Ritual and Popular Piety in a Muslim Community (New York, 1992)

R.B. Qureshi: ‘Localiser l'Islam: le sama' dans la cour royale des saints’, Cahier de Musiques Traditionelles 5: Musiques Rituelles (Genève, 1992), 127–50

R.B. Qureshi: ‘Muslim Devotional: Popular Religious Music under British, Indian, and Pakistani Hegemony’, AsM, xxiv/2 (1992–3), 111–21

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R.B. Qureshi: ‘Exploring Time Cross-Culturally: Ideology and Performance of Time in the Sufi Qawwali’, JM, xii/4 (1994), 493–528

H.L. Sakata: ‘The Sacred and the Profane: Qawwali Represented in the Performances of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan’, The World of Music, xxxvi/3 (1994), 86–99

R.B. Qureshi: ‘Recorded Sound and Religious Music: the Case of Qawwali’, in L. Babb and S. Wadley, eds.: Media and Religion in South Asia (Philadelphia, 1995), 139–66

P.-A. Baud: ‘Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan: le Aqwwali au risque de la modernité’, Cahiers de musiques traditionelles, ix (1996), 259–74

R.B. Qureshi: ‘Transcending Space: Recitation and Community among South Asian Muslims in Canada’, Making Muslim Space: Mores, Mosques, and Movements in Europe and North America, ed. B. Metcalf (Berkeley, 1996), 79–101

M.F. Dunham: Jarigan (Dhaka, 1997)

R.B. Qureshi: ‘Sounding the Word: Music in the Life of Islam’, Enchanting Powers: Music in the World’s Religions, ed. L. Sullivan (Cambridge, MA., 1997)

R.B. Qureshi: ‘His Master's Voice: Qawwali and “Gramophone Culture” in South Asia’, Popular Music, xviii/1 (1999), 63–98

recordings

J. Levy: ‘Music from the Shrines of Ajmer and Mundra’, Tangent TGM 105 [disc notes]

Shan-e-Rasool and Aal-e-Rasool: ‘Qawwālī and Majlis Songs’, Odeon (India) 3AEX 5281 [disc notes]

G.F. Sabri: ‘Devotional Songs’, Columbia (Pakistan) EKCA 20008 [disc notes]

R. Qureshi: ‘The Shi‘a Majlis of India and Pakistan’, Anthology Records AST-4008 (1973) [disc notes]

Qureshi Collection of Muslim Religious Chant, Edmonton, U. of Alberta Centre for Ethnomusicology [audio and video recordings from India and Pakistan, 1968–93]

Qureshi Collection of Qawwali, Edmonton, U. of Alberta Centre for Ethnomusicology [audio and video recordings from India and Pakistan, 1968–93]

Ghulam Farid Sabri, Maqbool Ahmed Sabri, EMI (Pakistan) TC-CEMCP-5578 (1980, 1985)

Best of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan Qawwal and Party, Womad 004 (1986)

christian

general

GEWM, v (‘Kerala: Christian Music Traditions’, J. Palackal; ‘Tamil Nadu: Christian Music’, J. Palackal)

M. Geddes: The History of the Church of Malabar, from the Time of its being Discover'd by the Portuguezes in the Year 1501 (London, 1964)

J. Kuckertz, ed.: Musica Indigena: einheimische Musik und ihre mögliche Verwendung in Liturgie und Verkundigung (Rome, 1976)

K. Sahay: Under the Shadow of the Cross: a Study of the Nature and Process of Christianization Among the Uraon of Central India (Calcutta, 1976)

M. Thiel-Horstmann: ‘Indian Traditional and Christian Folksongs’, Man in India, lviii/2 (1978), 97–150

S. Neill: A History of Christianity in India (New York, 1984–5)

S. Babiracki: ‘Indigenizers’, in B. Nettl: Western Impact on World Music: Change, Adaptation, and Survival (New York, 1985)

C. Choondal: Christian Folklore (Thrissur, 1988)

M.A. Mundadan: History of Christianity in India, i: From the Beginning up to the Middle of the Sixteenth Century (Up to 1542) (Bangalore, 1989)

J. Palackal: ‘Sangeethavum sabhācharitravum gavēshana veekshanathil’ [Music and church history: research perspectives], Satyadeepam, lxxiii/2 (1999), 5, 11

syrian churches

P.J. Thomas: The Marriage Customs and Songs of the Syrian Christians of Malabar (Madras, 1936)

A. Saldanha, S.J., ed.: Suriyani-malayala keerthana malika [The Syriac-Malayalam hymnal ] (Calicut, 1937)

M. Vadakel, Fr., ed.: Kerala kaldāya suriyāni reethile thirukkarmma geethangal [Liturgical hymns of the Chaldeo-Syrian rite of Kerala] (Alwaye, 1954) [Syriac texts transliterated in Malayalam, music in Western staff notation]

E. Tisserant: Eastern Christianity in India: a History of the Syro-Malabar Church from the Earliest Time to the Present Day (Bombay, 1957)

H. Husmann: Die Melodien des Chaldäischen Breviers Commune nach den Traditionen Vorderasiens und der Malabarküste, Orientalia christiana analecta, clxxviii (Rome, 1967); review by J. Kuckertz, Mf, xxiii (1970), 371

I. Ross: ‘Ritual and Music in South India: Syrian Christian Liturgical Music in Kerala’, AsM, xi/1 (1979), 80–98

P.U. Lukas: Purāthanappāttukal [Ancient songs of the Syrian Christians of Malabar] (Kottayam, 5/1980)

Abel CMI, Fr.: Mariccavarkkuventiyulla tirukkarmmangal [Rites for the dead] (Ernakulam, 1986)

M.P. George: Suriyāni sangeetham [Syriac music] (Kottayam, 1993)

J. Palackal: Puthen Pāna: a Musical Study (thesis, City U. of New York, 1995)

J. Palackal: ‘Problems and Issues in the Study of the Syraic Chant Traditions in South India’, Christian Orient, xx/3 (1999), 176–81

catholic church

F.C. Alfonso: A origem e evolução do ‘mando’ (Coimbra, 1933)

N. Lupi: Musica e alma da India Portugueza (Lisbon, 1956); Eng. trans. J. Shercliff: The Music and Spirit of Portuguese India (Lisbon, 1960)

M. Saldanha: ‘A cultura da música europeia em Goa’, Estudos Ultramarinos, vi (Lisbon, 1956), 41–56

S. Rafi: Cavittunātakam [Foot-stamping drama] (Kottayam, 1980)

F. Barboza: Christianity in Indian Dance Forms (Delhi, 1990)

P. Poovathingal: The Influence of South Indian Art Music on the Church Music of Kerala (diss., Madras U., 1997)

M. Sá Cabral: Wind of Fire: The Music and Musicians of Goa (Delhi, 1997)

protestant churches

J.W. Gladstone: Mosavalsalam sastrikal (Trivandrum, 1986)

B.S. Jemmie: Life and Works of Chowdhari Purushottam (1803–1890) (diss., Madras U., 1986)

F. Downs: ‘Christianity and Cultural Change in North East India’, Christian Faith and Multiform Culture in India, ed. Somen Das (Bangalore, 1987)

Hymns & Lyrics (Kottayam, 18/1989)

B.S. Jemmie: Telugulo chraisthava samkeerthanalu parisheelana [A study of Christian hymns in Telugu] (diss., U. of Hyderabad, 1990)

S. Innasi: Dimensions of Tamil Christian Literature (Madras, 1994)

P.D. Prabhakar: Kirusthava-k keerthani-c corkalanjiyam [Glossary of Christian lyrics] (Madras, 1996)

Z. Sherinian: The Indigenization of Tamil Christian Music: Folk Music as a Liberative Transmission System (diss., Wesleyan U., CT, 1998)

sikh

H. Bhattacharyya, ed.: A Cultural Heritage of India, iv (Calcutta, 1953)

M. Macauliffe: The Sikh Religion: its Gurus, Sacred Writings and Authors, v (Delhi, 1963)

Sikh Sacred Music, ed. Sikh Sacred Music Society (New Delhi, 1967)

G.S. Mansukhani: Introduction to Sikhism (New Delhi, 1967, 5/1988)

G.S. Mansukhani: Indian Classical Music and the Sikh Kirtan (New Delhi, 1982)

S. Slawek: ‘Popular Kirtan in Benares: Some “Great” Aspects of a Little Tradition’, EthM, xxxii (1988), 249–62

S. Wolpert: India (Berkeley, 1991)

jain

P.S. Jaini: The Jaina Path of Purification (Berkeley, 1979)

N. Shāntā: La voie Jaina (Paris, 1985)

M. Carrithers and C. Humphrey, eds.: The Assembly of Listeners (Cambridge, 1991)

J.E. Cort: ‘Svetāmbar Mūrtipūjak Jain Scripture in a Performative Context’, Texts in Context: Traditional Hermeneutics in South Asia, ed. J. Timm (Albany, CT, 1992)

P. Dundas: The Jains (London, 1992)

J. Laidlaw: Riches and Renunciation: Religion and Economy among the Jains (Oxford, 1995)

L. Babb: Absent Lord: Ascetic and Worldly Values in a Jain Ritual Culture (Berkeley, CA, 1996)

M.W. Kelting: Hearing the Voices of the Śrāvikā: Ritual and Song in Jain Laywomen’s Belief and Practice (diss., U. of Wisconsin, 1996)

Through this cultural diversity run unifying threads. The importance of devotional religion (bhakti) in India is one, and the importance of music in devotional religion is another (see §VI, 1 above). Also having an important bearing on local traditions is a national literacy rate of 52%. (State literacy rates vary widely.) Because many do not read and write, oral tradition remains important as a source of ideology. Some 74% of India’s population is classified as rural, and rural areas tend to have lower literacy rates. Only about 40% of women are literate. This reflects another important pattern, the different worlds of Indian men and women.

VII. Local traditions

Indian society is complex: the constitution recognizes 18 languages, most of which have their own script, and there are many others both written and spoken (see §I, 1 above). The major linguistic divide is between the north (languages such as Hindi, Bengali and Marathi) and the south (Kannada, Malayalam, Tamil and Telugu). India’s geography – the Himalayas in the north, the fertile Gangetic alluvial plain, desert in western Rajasthan, the scrub or forest of the Deccan plateau and tropical coasts – suggests that there would be distinctive regional adaptations, and there are. Although some 80% of the population is classified as Hindu, there is much diversity in local religions. Roughly 11% of the population is Muslim, and there are millions of Sikhs, Christians and Jains, among others. Nearly 8% of the population are Ādivāsīs (‘indigenous’ or ‘tribal’ peoples), and there are over 2000 castes (named, ranked, endogamous social categories usually associated with an occupation). There are great differences between rural and urban culture as well.

1. North India.

2. South India.

3. Ādivāsī music.

4. Local traditions and classical music.

5. Music and cultural change.

(i) Non-professional musicians.

1. North India.

(ii) Professional musicians.

India, Subcontinent of, §VII, 1: Local traditions, North India.

(i) Non-professional musicians.

(a) Women’s music.

Indian women sing group songs that men do not sing, and vice versa. Women, moreover, sing more than men. Men and women are somewhat segregated in their daily routines, and in rural north India purdah (customs resulting in the seclusion of women from public life) continues, although in a less than stringent form. Indian women learn, through the songs they sing, the stories of important deities such as Krsna and Śiva and the powers of deities such as mother goddesses. Their songs also concern kinship relationships and associated feelings, for example the anguish of separation from their husbands and the conflict between a woman and her husband’s mother, who is co-resident in the joint family. The joint family (two or more related couples sharing a hearth) is still the ideal in much of rural India, although it is probably attained in no more than 30% of families.

Women sing for the most important rites of passage, in particular at childbirth, marriage and death. The songs transmit fundamental religious beliefs and social sentiments, and they are sung and heard by hundreds of millions of people. Women’s song, as well as other music, is considered to be mangal (‘auspicious’), regardless of the content: the songs are believed to assist in attaining the goals of the rites in which they are performed. Ex.22 was recorded in 1995, sung by three different groups of non-specialist upper-caste women (Srotriyā Brahman, Bhumihār Brahman and Kāyasth castes) in three different wedding rites in Muzaffurpur and Madhubani in Bihar. With its use of the word sube (related to the Hindi śubh, ‘auspicious’) in each line, the song is even more explicitly auspicious.

Be it all auspicious, auspicious oh auspicious. [repeated]
Let it be auspicious for the groom’s father’s older brother’s wife, let it be auspicious for the groom’s father’s older brother.
Be it all auspicious, auspicious oh auspicious. [repeated]
Let it be auspicious for the groom’s father’s sister, let it be auspicious for the groom’s father’s sister’s husband.
Be it all auspicious, auspicious oh auspicious. [repeated]
Let it be auspicious for the groom’s mother’s sister, let it be auspicious for the groom’s mother’s sister’s husband etc.

Like all women’s group songs this is repetitious. It is strophic, but like many women’s songs each line of text is only a variation on one line of poetry with a change in a single term, in this case the term for the relative being blessed. The inclusion of many relatives beyond the nuclear family clearly reflects the importance of such kin and honours them.

Women in northern Bihar do not accompany their songs with a drum, but in many regions, including Uttar Pradesh and south-western Bihar, it is not unusual for one of the women of the group to play the dholak. Although women play it with bare hands, some professionals tie small sticks to two fingers of their right hand to give the right head strokes an even sharper sound. It is the most common drum and possibly the most common musical instrument in north India.

Women’s music is monodic with varying amounts of ornamentation. The amount of ornamentation is the outcome of conflicting tendencies. Given the ability and the creative urge, even non-specialist singers will decorate the melody. However, this is opposed by the necessity of singing in union, which is aided by simplicity. The melody of ex.22 is typical of women’s song melodies in that it comprises two strains, with the second having a greater range, going higher and having tones not found in the first strain. This kind of melodic structure is shared not only with many other kinds of traditional music but also with Hindustani music (see §III, 5(i) above).

Ex.23 is a women's milling song that deals with the difficult mother/daughter-in-law relationship. It was sung by Brahman women in Ballia District, eastern Utter Pradesh. In north India residence after marriage is traditionally patrilocal, that is the wife moves in with her husband in or very near his natal home. Village exogamy is also practised, so the young woman moves from her natal home into a family and village of strangers. Many women’s songs speak of the difficulties a woman has in her husband’s family. Here the mother-in-law curses the daughter-in-law’s family in response to her accidental lapse of modesty. The daughter-in-law can bear the tyranny of the mother-in-law no longer.

With a golden broom, oh Rāma, she sweeps out the courtyard.
She goes out of the courtyard, oh Rāma; her sari falls open
Sitting on a stool, oh Rāma, the honourable mother-in-law says,
‘I will kill your brother, the wife of your elder brother, and your brother’s daughter’.
The mother-in-law gives, oh Rāma, the golden pitcher
The daughter-in-law takes in her hand, oh Rāma, the silken draw-rope
To fill the pitcher, to fill the pitcher at the bank.
She drowns herself, oh Rāma, she sinks in the Yamuna river.

Women’s ritual songs were once considered imperative for weddings and other rites of passage. This requirement is weakening as more and more recorded music is used in rituals. Women also sing songs that are primarily recreational, either as an end in itself or as an accompaniment to repetitive work such as rice-transplanting or milling grain. Two other common traditions in women’s singing are the singing of a type of teasing, often obscene song (gālī) by family-centred groups of women to their visiting in-laws and other visitors, particularly at weddings; and on the death of a family member, a solemn genre that is between crying and singing (Hindi: vilāp). In these songs women improvise on themes ranging from how they will miss the departed person to a grievance the singer has with a person of higher status. In eastern Uttar Pradesh these songs are performed with just a few tones.

(b) Men’s music.

Of non-specialist men’s music the most common genre is that of group devotional singing (fig.11). Two words in India commonly used for devotional songs are bhajan and kīrtan (see §IV, 1 above). The two categories refer to many different types of song. In western north India kīrtan refers most commonly to repetitious hymns sung by groups of non-specialist males. One member of the group plays the dholak, and others accompany with clapping or with small cymbals called mañjīrā, jārī, or jhāñj (slightly larger); often one man plays the harmonium, introduced by French missionaries. The music is intended to generate ecstasy, and its strategy is for the initially moderate volume and tempo to increase slowly to a more intense level. This pattern is repeated a number of times during the course of a session. The texts of devotional songs express devotion to deities that vary according to region. Khandoba is worshipped in the western Deccan plateau, Rāma, Hanumān and Krsna are popular in Uttar Pradesh, and Durgā and Kāli are popular in Bihar, Bengal and Assam.

Ex.24 is a nām-kīrtan recorded in Varanasi (locally called Banāras). In nām-kīrtan the text of the song consists only of the alternation of the name(s) of the deity. Here, the names of Rāma and his wife, Sīta, are repeated throughout the song. Rāma is the hero of the Rāmāyana, one of the two most important epics in Hinduism, and in the Varanasi region Rāma is identified with Bhagwān (‘God’). The name of the deity ‘surpasses the level of symbol. The vibrations of its utterance are considered to be one form of the absolute’ (Slawek, 1986, p.111). Here again we see the melody in two parts with slightly different scales. The fervid, percussive quality of the music is typical of non-professional men’s devotional music.

(c) Specialist repertories.

This third category is subdivided into two groups: first, the self-conscious, urbanized singer, singing either folk songs garnered in the field or new compositions, and secondly, the non-professional but adept performer. A young man recorded in Madhubani, Bihar, in 1995, exemplifies the category of urban folk singer. He was one of three men who were recorded in different locations in northern Bihar who sang a song well known by speakers of the Maithili language, Kakhan harab dukh mor. This song, clearly a part of the oral tradition, is attributed to the 14th–15th-century Maithili poet, Vidyapati. His songs are one of the distinguishing cultural features of the Maithili region. The song is often sung as a parāti or prabhāti, a devotional genre sung solo and unaccompanied in the very early hours of morning as an offering (ex.25 was recorded in a session in Madhubani convened for documentation purposes). The song gently admonishes the deity Śiva, here called Bholā Nāth.

Hey, Bholā Nāth, when will you take away my sorrow?
I was born in sorrow; I grew up in sorrow.
Even in my dreams there was no happiness.
Rice and sandalwood on a wood apple leaf and incense I offer you.
So sings Vidyapati: hey Bholā Nāth, when will you take away my sorrow?

The singer, Prasanna Mani Jha, sings in cultural programmes and at civic functions. Classical tendencies are evident in his performance, which differed from the other two versions of the song collected, in his long sustaining of some tones and elaborate melody. The opening melodic formula found in this song and the long convex curvature of the melody are common stylistic traits of traditional songs, especially the women’s songs, of northern and western Bihar and eastern Uttar Pradesh.

A herder in eastern Uttar Pradesh who performs a musical ‘holler’ (a song intended to be heard over a long distance) also serves to illustrate this category of ‘non-professional specialist’ (ex.26). The song is called kharī birahā and is performed by members of two castes associated with herding, the sheep-herding Gareriyā caste and the much more numerous cow-herding caste called Yādav or Ahir. The herder spends much of his time at a distance from other people, and the kharī birahā allows him to communicate with them. A man also may sing it simply for his own enjoyment or when he is with a group of his caste members, in which case they will join in on the last word of a line of poetry, usually a verb.

In its most common form the singer chants the first two lines of text primarily on the tonic. In the remaining two or three lines the singer lifts the melody up a substantial interval into a range in which he can sing at his highest volume – the kharī birahā can be heard for a mile or more across the flat countryside – and then slowly lowers it back to its starting point. The pitch-collection of the kharī birahā is unique in the music of this region.

Devotional (primarily Vaisnava but also including nirgun, the formless divine) and philosophical topics predominate in the kharī birahās heard today, although some are concerned with heterosexual attraction and love. The text of the kharī birahā presented here refers to an episode in that period of Krsna’s mythical life when he was involved with Rādhā, a gopī or ‘cow-maiden’. Her love for Krsna and passionate yearning to be united with him is taken as a model for bhakti devotion. The song states that she was so entranced by the sound of Krsna’s flute that she could not even pick a ripe plum from the bowed branch. Most kharī birahā texts are similarly able to stand on their own as an image, vignette or devotional assertion.

The kharī birahā is an emblem of the herding castes, the Yādavs in particular. The kharī birahā singer is an unpaid specialist who knows songs most others do not know and who has developed a distinctive performance style that requires ability, time and effort to master. His recompense is his own gratification and the respect and admiration of his neighbours and members of his caste.

India, Subcontinent of, §VII, 1: Local traditions, North India.

(ii) Professional musicians.

These musicians perform for a fee, for entertainment or to fulfil a religious objective of the patron. They may use distinctive instruments, and they perform distinctive items as well as some common ones. (The category need not be confined to hereditary musicians.) In the north-western state of Rajasthan, where inherited relations between patrons and professional music castes were common until the mid-20th century, musicians of this category included the Dholis, Jogīs, Manganiyārs, Langās and bhopā s. All of these performers, as is generally true of professional traditional singers, are at the lower end of the social hierarchy.

The social system that gave rise to Rajasthan’s musical specialists and those of many other states is a system of inherited patron-client relationships called jajmānī. Before 1947 Rajasthan was comprised largely of kingdoms. Most rulers, and some of their landowners, had courts that employed musicians. All families of means, however, inherited relationships with certain families whose members provided goods or services (such as priests, washermen and musicians) and who were compensated by shares of the harvest or cash payments. The head of the family for whom the services were provided was the jajmān. The jajmānī system is in a state of continuing decline today.

According to Kothari (1944, p.210), the musical caste most commonly patronized by Rajasthani ruling castes was the Raj Damami, a sub-group of the Dholi caste. Traditionally musician families in these castes received small amounts of cash for services such as performing at weddings, and a certain weight of foodgrains per field at harvest time. Patrons might also contribute towards the service caste’s wedding and other expenses. When the courts were abolished in 1947 many such musicians lost their base of support. Some found employment in brass bands, but many had to take jobs unrelated to music. Musicians who served non-aristocratic patrons continued to receive patronage, and thus survived. One such group is the Manganiyārs.

(a) Manganiyārs.

(b) Bhopās.

(d) Processional bands.

India, Subcontinent of, §VII, 1(ii): Local traditions, North India., i) Professional musicians.

(a) Manganiyārs.

The Manganiyārs are a Muslim caste living in the Jaisalmer, Barmer and Jodhpur districts of Rajasthan, whose numbers are estimated at around 3000–5000. They provide music primarily to Rājpūts but also to lower castes. Their special instrument is the kamaicā, a bowed lute. Manganiyārs are also known for their virtuoso playing of khartāl, a pair of wood clappers. Their onomatopoeic term for the instrument is rāigidgidī.

Like many other professionals in Rajasthan, the Manganiyārs traditionally played mostly at the rites of passage of their patrons, especially at weddings. They play ritual songs whose performance is simply imperative, as well as entertainment songs in a special session called kacerī, where they play for an audience that listens and evaluates their performance. The Manganiyārs play four types of song: songs in praise of patrons, devotional Hindu songs, romantic ballads and songs derived from women’s songs (Jairazbhoy, 1984, p.23). An example of this last category, called ambāvārī, concerns the wedding and is played during the ceremony (ex.27). Its text is typical of a class of wedding songs listing things to be made or procured. This one mentions festoons of the auspicious mango leaves, the wedding canopy, special fabric, bangles, shawls etc. Such songs may serve as a device to help participants remember what needs to be done. The notation of the song shows many florid passages and ornamentation similar to that of Hindustani classical music, sung at a rapid tempo. Many scholars have discussed the connection between the musical styles of professionals like the Manganiyārs and the Hindustani classical tradition.

India, Subcontinent of, §VII, 1(ii): Local traditions, North India., i) Professional musicians.

(b) Bhopās.

The bhopās perform various martial epics, the most common of these being the story of Pābujī. Some of the bhopās are from an Ādivāsī group (the Bhils), but most are of a caste called Nāyak. Although today many perform for tourists, traditionally they sang mostly for families of the Raika herding caste. The context calling for a bhopā’s performance is traditionally a religious one, common for professional musicians across India. Smith (1991) notes that the performance is both entertainment and ritual, but Kothari (1994) states that the performance itself is the most important objective, not its enjoyment. A family sponsors a performance to fulfil a vow made to a deity or spirit to gain assistance in dealing with a problem such as barrenness of women or animals, or a series of illnesses or deaths. A family might also sponsor a performance to gain religious merit. This often involves performance of another Indian musical institution, the all-night wake (jāgaran), which is held to mark marriages, births, deaths and the completion of vows.

Before the bhopā begins his recitation he erects the par (a scroll painting on a cloth around 1.5 m high and 5 to 6 m long, crowded with painted scenes from the epic) and performs āratī (‘fire sacrifice’) to Pābujī. As well as being the epic hero, Pābujī is worshipped at his own shrines by the Raika herding caste and others. Most bhopā s play a bowed lute called Rāvanhatthā. In addition to the jingles attached to the bow, the bhopā also ties bells to his ankles that sound as he dances. Other bhopā s use instruments such as the stick zither with sound-amplifying gourds at each end called jantar. The bhopā of the permanent shrine plays a large clay pot with parchment stretched over the opening.

The essential story of Pābujī is as follows: Pābujī, the son of a Rājpūt and a celestial nymph, promises to give camels to the daughter of his half-brother as a wedding gift. On returning from Lanka with the camels he has stolen, he is seen by the princess Phulvanti, who falls in love with him. In the middle of their wedding a little bird tells him his relative’s cattle are being stolen, and he goes to the rescue with his half-brother and their men. All are ultimately killed, and Pābujī ascends to heaven in a palanquin. His half-brother’s wife, Gahlotan, sees the battle in a dream and tells Pābujī’s would-be wife. They commit satī. However, Gahlotan is pregnant, and before entering the flames she cuts open her belly and extracts the infant male. He grows up and one day discovers his origin. He vows revenge on and eventually murders Pābujī’s killer; he then becomes a renunciant.

The bhopā sings this complex tale alternately with his wife or a caste brother (ex.28), who holds a lamp by the scroll painting and declaims the story while one of them points out scenes on the cloth. Although they know about 12 hours of text, they never perform it in its entirety. They sing it to multiple melodies, and the styles of these vary substantially from performer to performer. Smith (1991) observed that one tune was used most commonly for the first stanza of each section; one tune seemed to be an extended version of another; one tune is restricted to a certain bit of the story; and three of the tunes are for the bhopā's dances. Why alternate tunes are used for different parts of the story is unclear. The dances are rhythmic, and the melodic contrast may serve to maintain the interest of the audience. The variation may also help the performers to remember the text.

It is likely that the epic of Pābujī is an elaborated story of a bhomiyā god (Kothari, 1989). This is the generic name in Rajasthan and Gujarat for a warrior who died in pursuit of cattle thieves. Pābujī is referred to numerous times in the epic as a bhomiyā, and the memorial pillars in his shrines are similar to those of the other bhomiyās. Villagers establish a shrine for the dead warrior and worship him as a minor deity. In certain cases the spirit is manifest through a medium, usually a bhopā. His singing of the hero’s story at Pābujī shrines induces his own possession by the spirit. (It should also be noted that the epic and its performance serve to enhance the reputation of the spirit and shrine.) The medium then begins to help the local people by divination and magical healing, and the shrine becomes popular, sometimes drawing people from a large area.

It has been noted that the story of Pābujī manifests a pattern (violation, death, deification and revenge) found in the epics of local, sub-regional and regional hero or spirit cults throughout India. Epics such as these embody the belief system, particularly the origin and nature of the god, on which particular caste and shrine rituals are based. In Blackburn’s comparative study of Indian epics (1989) it is argued that this pattern is true of those epics that are used in ritual worship, not the ones of transregional distribution sung purely for entertainment, such as the Ālhā and Dholi. The performance context (caste- or shrine-sponsored ritual in this case) is one element determining the content of the epic.

India, Subcontinent of, §VII, 1(ii): Local traditions, North India., i) Professional musicians.

(c) Mendicants.

Both Hinduism and Islam emphasize the importance of charity and its bearing on salvation. Known to some outside India is a type of musical mendicant called Baul, of West Bengal and Bangladesh (see Bengali music). A group of Bauls associated with the singer Purna Das Baul has performed in the West since the 1960s. Most Bauls now play more often for religious fairs, but the role was traditionally that of itinerant mendicant. They accompany their melismatic songs (some of which convey Krishna cult doctrine and some tantric and other religio-philosophical systems) with a plucked lute (dotāra, ‘two strings’) that has four or five strings, a variable tension chordophone called khamak and other instruments. The khamak is an inverted single-head drum with a string that passes up through the hollow chamber and is tied to a knob. The player holds the inverted drum under his left arm and the knob in his left hand. He plucks the string with a plectrum or finger of his right hand while changing the pitch by increasing or decreasing the tension of the string with the knob in his left hand. Other similar instruments used by Bauls are the gopīyantra and the ānandalaharī (see Variable tension chordophone).

The kind of sound produced by these instruments, a tone of changing pitch in a lower range (its ascending form suggested by ‘bu-ump ’ spoken with rising inflection), is very characteristic of Indian music. It is heard in the bhapang of eastern Rajasthan, in the sound of the left-hand head of the dholak and mrdangam, and in a family of hourglass drums with variable tension heads, including the huruk (north India), the udukku (south India), whose similar names evidence their common origin, and the damarū, found throughout India.

Similar to the Bauls are the so-called jogīs of Uttar Pradesh and Bihar. They accompany themselves with the Sārangī, the bowed lute used in Hindustani classical music. Often only two strings are present, and one of these will provide the drone. The dotāra mentioned above has one or more drone strings. The bowed lutes usually have one or more, and many mendicants all over India play a single string plucked lute (ektāra, tuntune). The jogīs sing (for donations of grain, old cloth or cash) a variety of religious and philosophical songs, including some called nirgun bhajans, whose content is similar to some of the Bauls’ songs. These songs promote the ideas of non-attachment to the mundane world and devotion that need not be externally visible, to a formless (nirgun) deity (a deity without attributes). They lambast official priests and religion. Sung throughout India, songs of this heterodox type combine ideas from Buddhist mysticism, Advaita Vedanta, Tantrism, Yoga, the Nāth cults and Sufism.

Nirgun bhajans are also sung by the blind mendicants called Surdas, after the blind 16th-century Vaishnava poet-saint. In 1990 mendicants of this type (who come from no particular caste) were still to be seen plying their trade in eastern Uttar Pradesh (fig.12). The young man whose song is notated in ex.29, Rajendra Gaur, was recorded on the train that travels daily from Varanasi to Mau in eastern Uttar Pradesh. His song preaches that death is inevitable and the body lives only ‘four days’, i.e. the four āśhram or stages of a devout man’s life in times past (student, householder, forest hermit, renunciant). Salvation requires wisdom and non-attachment, and one should think about donations to the poor. Kabīr was a medieval poet-saint of this region, and many of the nirgun bhajan s are self-attributed to him.

So, brother, the wise man hits with knowledge, the hunter hits with an arrow,
From not subduing the senses, the body dies
But arrogant egoism never dies, as was said by Kabīr.
People, why is there the treacherous bandit?
This body is but a visitor of four days.
Don’t be proud; one day you will go for sure.
For your going a bamboo conveyance is made.
This body is but a visitor of four days.
You will make thousands, millions of rupees; you won’t take even a cowrie with you.
No matter how much you earn, it will all stay here.
Now there is made a red shroud for you to wear.
This body is but a visitor of four days.
Keep the thought in your mind, keep the thought in your mind.
Think about donations to the poor.
Then this is wisdom for you to think about.
This body is but a visitor of four days.
Four bearers will lift the palanquin and carry you to the burning ghat.
This body is but a visitor of four days.
So Kabīr has sung and gone to heaven.
On this earth your mark has gone, a symbol of your good work.
This body is but a visitor of four days.
People, why is there this treacherous thief?
This body of yours is made of dirt.

The tunes of nirgun bhajans are of no single type. Any tune, including those of film songs, may be put to a bhajan text. The unknown composer of this song set the text to a qavvālī tune. Orthodox qavvālī is sung in leader-chorus format at Sufi Muslim assemblies, especially at the anniversaries of Sufi saints. This religious form evolved into popular qavvālī (see §VI, 2(ii) above). In the popular form non-Muslim texts are sung to the same musical style: solos in free rhythm alternate with heavily rhythmic and repetitious refrains sung by a chorus with the same intensity of feeling as the men’s devotional singing. In this nirgun bhajan the choral portion is absent and the entire song is in free rhythm.

India, Subcontinent of, §VII, 1(ii): Local traditions, North India., i) Professional musicians.

(d) Processional bands.

Contrasting with the sacred public music of the mendicants is the mostly secular public music of processional bands. These bands play in civic festival parades such as the anniversary parade of the city of Jaisalmer and the Śiva Rātra parade in Varanasi, as well as in processions that are part of familial rites of passage. Their most common job is to lead the groom’s wedding party to the bride’s home or rented hall where the wedding is held (a bārāt procession). As weddings abound (especially during the astrologically appropriate seasons), processional bands are frequently encountered in public life in India.

The kind of processional bands preferred by their employers has changed with time. Royal families and chieftains used to employ, at the bare minimum, pairs of large kettledrums (nagārā). Poorer families in and around Varanasi even today hire a small group of percussionists, usually playing a frame drum (daphalā), a gong and a pair of kettledrums, for this kind of function. These daphalā groups come from the Camar caste, whose traditional job was removing animal carcasses and processing the skins. The association of untouchable castes like the Camars with drumming and drum-making is, or was, pan-Indian.

Families with more to spend use the next oldest kind of group, the śahnāī ensemble. The sound of the Śahnāī or similar instrument is considered especially auspicious and therefore appropriate for weddings. The śahnāī is a double-reed aerophone introduced in India by Muslims around the end of the 1st millennium ce. The holes in its body are covered by fingers rather than key pads. The śahnāī ensemble consists of a lead śahnāī player, one or more support players who play in unison and fill in when the soloist takes a break, one or more players of drone śahnāīs, and a drummer who plays a pair of small kettledrums called duggī and khurdāk (fig.13). Like the brass bands they play mainly film music but also the occasional folk tune. In northern Bihar the double-reed aerophone ensemble is that of the pipāhī, a shorter version of the śahnāī, with a cylindrical rather than a conical bore and an integrated bell. A similar double-reed aerophone, the surnāī, is used in Rajasthan.

Families of relatively more means who want the procession to appear modern or fashionable prefer the brass band (in some places called angrezī or ‘English’ band), which has been in India for at least two centuries. Its players, in brightly coloured Western-style uniforms, use Western band instruments, now in some cases bolstered by amplified keyboards and Hawaiian-type guitars. Trumpets or clarinets (sometimes saxophones) usually play the lead roles, and euphoniums (baritones) play the adumbrated melody an octave lower, while percussion is provided by snare, bass, side drums and maracas. These bands range in size from half a dozen to several dozen men and boys. The players may be subdivided into three echelons of proficiency and permanence in the group, with those in the most expendable bottom level contributing more visually than musically (Booth, 1990). Today bands play mainly pop music, which means mostly film tunes, but also Indian folk tunes such as kajalī and Western marches, folk and pop tunes. A few decades ago in the Varanasi area they still played items they referred to with the names of Hindustani rāgas such as Pīlū and Bhairavī, although these did not conform to classical norms. The latest fashion is for the soloist, often a trumpet player, to play from a hand-pushed flat-bed wagon with a diesel motor-driven generator on it that powers not only an amplification system with echo and reverberation, but also the bevy of fluorescent lights carried by bearers who walk among the bandsmen.

While many common themes may be identified running through performance across South Asia, southern India is linguistically and culturally distinct by virtue of its languages, history, geography and religious practices. In contrast to the Indo-European north, south India is populated by Dravidian language speakers (Telugu, Kannada, Malayalam and Tamil) who, in general, inhabit the modern states of Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka, Kerala and Tamil Nadu respectively. South India has relatively little history of Muslim rule, a geography comprising the Deccan Plateau, the Western and Eastern Ghats and fertile coastal regions, and an overwhelmingly Hindu population that, while acknowledging the pan-Indian gods of the Sanskritic pantheon, more often owes a primary allegiance to a regional deity; many people also worship and propitiate a complex network of village goddesses. This distinctiveness has been expressed politically through regional political parties and, particularly in the mid-20th century, by the pan-Dravidian movement. Devotion is an element of many South Indian genres, as are the differing spheres of public and private space, expressed in the Dravidian terms akam (‘house’, ‘interior’) and puram (‘exterior’; see Ramanujan, 1986, pp.44–51; Claus, 1991, pp.139–40).

2. South India.

In contrast to north India, the south has been relatively ignored by ethnomusicologists until recently, and information on the local musical traditions of south India has to be gleaned from a wide variety of sources. A.A. Bake's monumental collection of south Indian traditions carried out in 1938–9 is still to be fully investigated, although a preliminary study has been undertaken by Nazir Jairazbhoy and Amy Catlin (1991). Further information lies in the work of scholars investigating folklore and oral epics, in the Fairs and Festivals section of the 1961 Government Census and in Thurston and Rangachari (1904).

(i) Vocal performance.

(ii) Instrumental musics.

India, Subcontinent of, §VII, 2: Local traditions, South India.

(i) Vocal performance.

Vocal traditions in south India vary across both caste and geographical boundaries, and according to context and the gender of the performers. However, certain practices may be grouped together, displaying either common contexts, themes or groups of performers. In addition to devotional genres and genres delineated by gender, local song traditions have been used in the political sphere, both by the state and against it. The use of local musics as a form of resistance is typified by the Andhran folk singer Gaddar, founder of the Jana Nātya Mandali, the cultural wing of the outlawed People's War Group of Andhra Pradesh. Although primarily aimed at encouraging a political conciousness among the dispossessed, Gaddar's songs, with their explicitly Marxist messages, are widely popular and have been used in many films. Vocal genres also provide evidence of the movement of peoples within and into south India. Marathi lāvanī were brought to Tamil Nadu in the 18th century (Deva and Kuckertz, 1981, p.43). Traditional lullabies sung by mothers in agricultural settlements in the hills of northern Kerala originated in the region around Ernakulam. Under land reform measures families had been encouraged to move by the State Government from this populous area to others where land was more easily available.

(a) Women's song.

The category of ‘women's song’ covers many genres, used variously to comment on the singer's social position and domestic circumstances, and for devotion. Brahman women in Andhra sing passages from the Rāmāyana at private gatherings or while carrying out domestic work. Men are usually excluded from these performances, although they may overhear them. The women build a narrative that concentrates on the role of Sīta, episodes concerned with childbirth, marriage and relations, and the revenge of Rāvana's sister Śūrpanakha. Although the songs are not overtly provocative and are sung primarily as an act of devotion, V. Narayana Rao (1991, pp.128–30) has argued that women use these performances to challenge the male-dominated tellings of the Rāmāyana (to make it in effect a ‘Sītāyana’) and to replace the ideal family of the standard epic with a complex joint family grounded in their own experience. In contrast to the Brahman women's telling of the Rāmāyana, low caste Andhran women, mostly of the Māla and Mādiga castes, sing Rāmāyana songs in the public space of the fields, not the private spaces of the house and courtyard. While also concentrating on ‘women's themes’, they tend to ignore issues of gender inequality in favour of episodes that subvert caste boundaries, expressing both the comparative gender equality within their castes and the collective inequality between high and low castes.

Protests against social injustice are more explicit in the oppāri laments and ayira pāttu (‘crying songs’) of Tamil Nadu. Oppāri are improvised mourning songs performed exclusively by women. Although sung to mourn the death of a male relative, the texts ignore the deceased and concentrate on the position of women in a society where widows are considered inauspicious and in which on the death of a husband a woman will become materially disenfranchised. Low caste women are professionally engaged to sing oppāri, but close relatives may also join in, and Ramaswamy (1994, p.33) notes that it is still a living tradition in Brahman households. Crying songs, ayira pāttu, are performed by women of the low Paraiyar caste and are so called because the singer weeps as she sings. They are wholly improvised; each line has a rising contour and increasing volume and ends with a quieter descent. Performances are spontaneous and tend to take place away from other people, though Egnor (1986, p.303) maintains that the songs are sung in ‘semiprivacy’ in order that the song's complaint becomes in some way audible to whoever it is directed against. Themes include the separation of mother and daughter at the daughter's marriage, unhappy marriages and the status of widows. The repetition of imagery and themes between songs is a device for increasing the probability of the message reaching its intended audience.

(b) Epic and narrative traditions.

South India has many traditions of narrative performance, some of which contain a large element of dance and are therefore often distinguished as ‘dance-dramas’, although it is often hard to draw a clear line between these and other narrative traditions (for the Tamil terukkūttu and Kannada yaksagāna, see §IX, 2(i) below). The traditions discussed here all have strong links with ritual and devotion, as do many dance-dramas, but may perhaps be distinguished in terms of performance by their predominant use of vocal performance to present a text, rather than movement to portray action. In addition to local tellings of the pan-South Asian narratives of the Mahābhārata, Rāmāyana and the stories of the Purāna, south Indian epic traditions also include tellings of the tales of local heroes and actions often related to the worship of a local goddess. These sometimes draw on pan-South Asian narratives to enhance the status of local heroes and deities, as well as place them in a wider mythological and legendary context.

Tamil vil pāttu (‘bow song’) are narrative songs accompanied by an instrumental ensemble and performed in local temples during a festival season that lasts from January to May. They are found in the region around Nagercoil, at the southernmost tip of India. The name of the genre derives from the large musical bow, vil, used as an accompanying instrument. The vil is around three to four metres long, decorated with coloured paper or cloth and brass animals, and hung with large pellet bells. The bow is mounted on a clay pot, kutam, used as an idiophone, and its cowskin string is struck with two sticks (vīcukōl) with attached jingles that sound when shaken. Although the bow is usually played by the main singer (who may be female, even though all the other musicians are male), it plays a fairly minor musical role. The text is sung by two groups, a main group (vilampāti) and a chorus (itampāti), who sing antiphonally. Each group plays different instruments. The lead singing group includes a cymbal (jālra) player, while the choral group has the kutam player, a kattai (a wooden idiophone) player and the utukkai (variable-tension hourglass drum) player, who traditionally begins the performance with a virtuoso solo.

The songs are grouped into two categories: stories of ‘birth’, telling of deities of divine birth (teyva piravi); and stories of ‘death’, local stories of people who became deities on their death. The first group starts on the holy Mount Kailāsa and uses figures and themes from wider South Asian mythology to account for the worship of a local goddess at a particular temple; the second deals with localized historical figures. Each type of tale has a different narrative structure (Blackburn, 1988, pp.32–3). The vocal lines have two contrasting styles of delivery, a ‘sung’ delivery (pāttu) and a style closer to speech (vacanam), which are used according to performance context. Rather than repeating entire lines, the chorus tends to repeat sections of the lines sung by the leading group, giving an echo-like effect. The kattai, vil and jālra keep the pulse of the rhythmic cycles, which vary according to the content of the narrative: cycles of three or four beats tend to be used for straight narrative, those in six or twelve beats are used for descriptive passages. A special rhythmic effect, called tutukku (‘hastening’, ‘urging on’), is used at points of great emotional intensity. It involves the kutam and utukkai playing a polyrhythmic pattern over the basic cycle, maintained by the kattai and jālra, which ‘pushes’ the music on.

In contrast to the predominantly middle-caste performers of the bow songs, the singers of the Palnādu epic of central Andhra Pradesh, known as vīra vidyavantulu, are predominantly of the low Māla caste (the other large Telugu low-caste group, the Mādiga, perform the epic Kātamarāju Katha for Golla patrons). The Palnādu epic is performed in its most complete form at the annual Festival of the Heroes at Karempudi, the site of the battle that concludes the story. Although this is perhaps the primary context for its performance, a version of the epic is sung by the Piccaguntlu, itinerant narrative singers who are also genealogists. They visit a village every two to three years to sing to village patrons, accompanying themselves with a tambūrā (fig.14). The complex narrative centres around the fight between two sets of half-brothers for control of the kingdom of Palnādu.

The Festival of the Heroes takes place during the month of Kārtika (October–November). Invitations are sent out to surrounding villages 15 days prior to the festival. The invitations are sent to the Māla, but members of all castes congregate at the Īrlagudi (Temple of the Heroes) in Karempudi for the seven-day festival, which starts on the day of the new moon. The epic is sung over the first five days, culminating on the fifth with an account of the Karempudi battle. The vīra vidyavantulu are allocated particular episodes to perform. Not all the episodes of the epic are allocated for performance, however; some of the more popular may not be and are performed on request (it is traditionally claimed to take 30 days to perform the epic in full). The singers are accompanied by a drummer who plays the pambajōdu (or pamba), a pair of double-headed brass drums, using a stick on one head and a hand on the other. A drone is provided by the titti, a bagpipe with a goatskin bag and bamboo mouthpiece, while a third musician plays tālalu (cymbals). The drummer and cymbal player intersperse the singer's narrative with vocables that come from spoken Telugu. These serve, literally, to punctuate and occasionally elaborate the narrative line. Although the drummer does provide a pulse, there is no rhythmic cycle, and the relationship between the drum pulse and the rhythm of the vocal line is relatively free. The tālalu may follow either the vocal line or drum patterns.

While the Palnādu epic is firmly rooted in local history and geography, the pan-South Asian epic of the Rāmāyana is performed by the Tamil-speaking puppeteers of Palghat in central Kerala. The performers sing, recite and comment on a version of the 12th-century Tamil Kamparāmāyanam, passed down and modified among the puppeteers since at least the late 17th century. It is learnt over a period of 10 years, from printed and handwritten sources handed down from the pulavar (‘teacher’) to student. Tōl pāva kūttu, the shadow puppet theatre, is performed in temples dedicated to the goddess Bhagavati between January and May; the performances take place during temple festivals or at the request of a sponsor. A performance takes at least eight nights, often many more, and is presented in a special ‘drama-house’ known as a kūttu mātam. The leather puppets are lit from behind and their images projected on to a white curtain. Performances are usually accompanied by the jakwood elupara barrel-drum and cymbals. Blackburn (1996) observes that the performances take place with a minimal, often absent, human audience, and concludes that it is the puppeteers themselves, as well as the deity Bhagavati, who form the audience for the plays.

A different shadow puppet tradition is found in Andhra Pradesh, that of tōlubommalāta. The Marathi-speaking Andhran puppeteers perform Telugu versions of both the Rāmāyana and Mahābhārata. Although they undergo no formal training, they do, like the Keralan performers, draw on printed and handwritten sources to provide some of the text and structure for their performances (including the 14th-century Ranganātha Rāmāyana and 15th-century Bhaskara Rāmāyana). Traditionally the plays would have been performed at weddings and village celebrations, but with the rise of alternative forms of entertainment, particularly the cinema and television, patronage is now more likely to come from official bodies trying to preserve local traditions. A troupe consists of two to three puppeteers, a harmonium, drummer and two to five members of a chorus, who sing and play cymbals. The narration and commentary is given by the bhāgavatar (the stage manager). Unlike the smaller Keralan puppets, the Andhran ones are life-sized (between one and two-and-a-half metres tall). Another difference is that the stage and curtain are temporary structures, usually set up in the village square; performances start at around nine in the evening and last from one-and-a-half to four hours.

(c) Devotional group song.

South India is no different from other regions of South Asia in having groups of devotees who come together to sing bhajan, or devotional songs, in praise of particular deities (see also §VI, 1 above). However, three devotional traditions stand out for both the rising number of their pan-South Indian devotees (all three figures attracted very large numbers of followers during the 1990s) and the degree to which they are praised through music: the worship of Aiyappa, Sai Baba and Kalki Bhagwan. Worship of these deities through music is not limited to live group singing but is also achieved through the use of playback technologies for devotional performance (Greene, 1999).

The deity Aiyappa is believed to be the offspring of Mohinī and Śiva, who was incarnated as Manikantha into a Keralan royal family. His worship is centered on the temple at Sabarimala in the Western Ghats and is manifested in a huge annual pilgrimage in January. Great numbers of Aiyappa devotees from all over South India take part in the walk to the temple, before which they will have undergone 41 days of penance. The devotees, who must be male or post-menopausal women, wear black and abstain from sex, meat and alcohol. Every night during the period of penance the devotees gather to perform devotional songs, widely available on cassette all over south India, and dance ecstatically. The music-making continues throughout the pilgrimage itself, particularly the chanting of the name of the deity, a fundamental part of the spiritual experience.

Sai Baba and Kalki Bhagwan are similar figures to the extent that they are both seen as living deities by their followers: the first as an incarnation of earlier holy men (in particular Shirdi Sai Baba, identified by his place of birth, who died in 1918), the second as the tenth and final incarnation of Visnu. The singing of kīrtanam (devotional songs) is an essential part of their followers' devotions; Kalki Bhagwan has decreed that it is the primary way in which to worship him (fig.15). The extremely rapid growth in the worship of these two figures has supplanted the singing of devotional songs to other deities in many towns and villages. Sai Baba bhajan are extremely popular and may be heard almost anywhere in south India, both recorded and live (fig.16), while Kalki Bhagwan is recognized as the only true deity by his followers, and his evangelical message is promoted in large part by the prominent music-making of his devotees.

India, Subcontinent of, §VII, 2: Local traditions, South India.

(ii) Instrumental musics.

As with the vocal practices above, instrumental traditions across south India display considerable diversity. Although more formalized performance practices are described below, the use of instruments is not restricted to so-called professional specialists. Instruments, particularly membranophones, are used by a variety of street vendors to attract attention to their wares, often playing complex rhythmic patterns. They range from a man parading around the streets of an Andhran village with a small frame drum, announcing the price of commodities such as rice and jaggery at a weekly market, to a low-caste fruit seller in Madurai using the davandai, more often used as a temple drum, to attract customers (fig.16).

(a) Temple ensembles.

In addition to the Tamil periya melam temple ensemble (see §III, 6(v)(b) above), which has now made its way on to the Karnatak concert stage, there exists a separate tradition of instrumental temple music in Kerala, known as ksētram vādyam. The three main genres of this tradition, tāyampaka, pañcavādyam and centā melam, differ greatly from Tamil temple music in being largely rhythmic in conception, as opposed to the vocal, melodic basis of the nāgasvaram and tavil repertory. In addition, the Keralan genres are based around a different group of tālas (rhythmic cycles) than those used in Karnatak music.

Tāyampaka is performed during pauses in temple festivals, when the image of the deity rests during an evening procession outside the temple's inner sanctum. Parts of the repertory may also be performed after the daily dīpārādhana (evening ritual), and its growing popularity now means it is performed as entertainment during festivals. It is a virtuoso genre performed by a solo centā, a double-headed cylindrical drum played with a pair of sticks, traditionally played by the Mārār caste. It is supported by other centā and ilatalam (pairs of cymbals). The performance comprises five sections, themselves comprised of learnt patterns (known as ennam) and improvised sections (known as manōdharmam). The performance, which starts slowly, becomes progressively faster, culminating in the very fast tempo of the final irukita section. The whole performance is closed by the cadential Ganapati kai in the original tempo.

In contrast, the pañcavādyam and centā melam include very little improvisation. These are performed during the procession itself and, like tāyampaka, occasionally during temple rituals. The rising popularity of these genres now means that they are also performed outside the traditional temple context, including during the civic procession in Trivandrum for the Ōnam celebrations. Pañcavādyam and centā melam are ensemble genres that depend on the repetition of rhythmic patterns set against rhythmic cycles. A performance of a pañcavādyam piece typically lasts around one hour, while a centā melam performance may last up to four hours. Although the numbers are variable, the pañcavādyam (‘five instruments’) ensemble consists of 10–15 each of the variable tension hourglass drums timila and itakka, about 10 maddalam (barrel drums) and kompu (semi-circular trumpets), and some 15 pairs of ilatālam. A conch-shell trumpet is also used occasionally. The centā melam is even larger, comprising some 45 centā, 15 kombu and 15 kurum kulal (small oboes). It is the collective performance of such large ensembles that precludes improvisation.

(b) Band musicians.

Bands in south India perform functions similar to those found in the north: accompanying weddings and public processions (fig.17). Differences are found, however, particularly in their caste-based composition and in the role they play in ritual; another difference lies in the performance of the Karnatak repertory of kriti and varnam by some bands (Booth, 1996–7). While brass band musicians in the north are not drawn from any one caste or religion (Henry, 1988, pp.219–20; Booth, 1990, p.248), bandsmen in the south tend to be drawn from castes that traditionally are village musicians. One such caste is the Mangali of Andhra Pradesh, who are also the barber caste. Most bands and band members in eastern Andhra are run by and drawn from this caste. The bands have a similar composition to those in the north, lead by a bandmaster who usually plays either a trumpet or clarinet, and their repertory consists almost exclusively of Telugu film songs. (Individual bandmasters do have a repertory of improvisatory rāgas, akin to ālāpana, which are closely related to their Karnatak counterparts.) However, due to their status as a caste-based ensemble, with caste-based obligations, they are integrated into the ritual life of the village. Unlike northern bands, Mangali bands play throughout the wedding pūjā itself, and they play an important ritual role by acting as the pūjāri for, and propitiating, potentially dangerous village goddesses.

Distinguishing the Ādivāsī peoples from those governed by caste is sometimes problematic. Until recently Ādivāsīs tended to live in more isolated locations in homogeneous groups, speaking languages distinct from the surrounding peoples, but now peoples are often mixed. One concentration of Ādivāsī groups is to the north and east of Bangladesh, and a few scattered groups lie south of the Krishna river, but the principal cluster lies across the central hills. The Bhils live in the western part of this region. In the centre and east are the Gonds, whose traditional language is Dravidian, and the Mundā-speaking populations (Mundā, Hō, Savaras and Santāl). Mundā is an Austro-Asiatic language related to such South-east Asian languages as Khmer.

3. Ādivāsī music.

Two external developments have devastated Ādivāsī cultures for the last 130 years: population pressure and techno-economic change. Land-hungry peasants have invaded their areas and now outnumber them in many of their indigenous locales. Industrialization has been a national priority since 1947; the Ādivāsīs live in areas rich in ore, coal and forests, and many have been alienated from their land by the exploitation of these raw materials. Nearly a million Ādivāsīs are threatened by hydro-electric projects that will inundate their lands. One musical consequence of this has been the composition of protest songs to traditional forms (Joshi and Palit, 1992).

Some Ādivāsī music uses are identical to those of the surrounding peoples, in particular the use of women’s song for rites of passage. This seems especially true for the Bhils, although some of their women’s songs have distinctive topics, such as that of famine. Bhils also dance and, like the people around them, dance the garba in worship of a goddess. But like the Ādivāsīs all the way across the centre of India, and unlike the caste peoples, they dance and make a great deal of music in mixed gender groups. A study of the Mundā-speaking peoples of southern Bihar reports that the young Mundā males and females dance and sing on a weekly basis, and song and dance are essential components of ritual and festival occasions (Babiracki, 1991). Each seasonal repertory is based on two or three song types, characterized by occasional diaphonic singing; drum patterns, dance patterns and song phrases are normally of different lengths and out of phase with each other. Their tunes are more distinct from nearby non-Ādivāsīs than are their metres, but the women’s marriage songs are sung in the same seven-beat metre and to some of the same tunes as those of the non-Mundā peoples. Music symbolizes Mundā identity, and conservative forces in their music include the desire to maintain the musical identity of the group.

In the Gond peoples of eastern central India, as with the Mundā, when boys and girls sing their antiphonal songs together the girls’ part is higher than the boys’, as seen in ex.30 (Knight, 1983). This may be attributed to the pitch levels comfortable to the two sexes. Gond music commonly shares another trait with the Mundā: drum patterns, dance patterns and song phrases, although synchronized to one beat, are normally of different lengths and out of phase with each other. There is also hemiola in some of their songs, as in the stilt dance introduced in the 1960s. The Gonds play many other instruments, including a buffalo-horn trumpet, a bronze transverse trumpet, transverse flute, slit drum, a great long double-headed drum (see Dhol), clapperless bells and pellet bells, iron cymbals, jew’s harp and a composite idiophone in which the stick of the scraper operates the wooden clappers by means of strings.

The song transcribed in ex.30 is an expression of independent Gond religious ideology.

Oh what is the name of the supreme being?
Boys, who is the lord of the earth?
Boys, the lord of the earth is Lingo.
Boys, these dance steps were taught by Lingo.
Boys, this song was taught by Lingo.
Boys, Lingo created the pirwir rattle and drum and sulur flute.

This performance continued with topical lines about flowers, food and the railway line that now pushes its way through South Bastar for iron ore.

The Gonds are famous for the ghotul, a youth club and dormitory not uncommon among other Ādivāsī groups in the central hills. Among the Muria Gonds all boys and girls of the village belong to the club from puberty to marriage, and one aspect of membership is sanctioned pair-bonding involving sex. The performing arts are centred on the ghotul. Some of the Muria ghotul s in the last few decades have taken on aspects of professional dance troupes, performing dances from other Gond groups and performing for dignitaries and other visitors and for the Republic Day festivities in New Delhi. In these contexts their ritual music becomes entertainment music, one of the most important changes taking place in Indian folk music today.

Perhaps the strongest connection between folk and classical music is that many professional traditional musicians, such as the Langās and Manganiyārs of Rajasthan, clearly have and use the concept of rāga, i.e. they discuss the key tones and phrases basic to a rāga’s essential character, and they use the term rāga. Some Gujarati musicians use the term dhāl, which refers to something between a rāga and a melody (Thompson, 1995). Other characteristics shared by Manganiyār music and Hindustani music include the fact that some of the Manganiyār compositions are as complex as classical compositions and that their performing practices utilize some of the same devices, such as the tān, gamak, mīnd, ālāp and the tihāī (see §III, 3 and 5 above).

4. Local traditions and classical music.

The Manganiyārs use some of the same rāga names as Hindustani music; however, the rāgas designated by these names usually do not conform to classical norms (Kothari, 1994). They also play pieces having precisely the characteristics of certain classical rāgas and tālas, such as rāga Bhairav and the seven-beat Rūpak tāla, but without awareness that they are doing so (Jairazbhoy, 1984, p.12). Not all of their music is as easily classifiable in terms of classical music, and it is not known how they could have acquired their classical connections, given their isolation.

One necessary condition for the development of a ‘classical’ music is secure musical employment, and that was a part of the jajmānī system at the royal level, as discussed above. In the western Deccan plateau of Maharashtra and Karnataka many songs, including those of the 16th-century poet-saint Purandara Dasa, are sung in clearly recognizable rāgas without the singer knowing anything of the rāgas, including their names. B.C. Deva and J. Kuckertz (1981) write of a reverse process occurring: Śivaputra Komkali (popularly called Kumar Gandharva) draws ‘almost all of his music material from the folk round him … metamorphosing them into rāgas’. They believe that one way classical music has filtered into traditional music is through professional dramatic groups who use classical music and perform for villagers as well as city dwellers. Classical rāgas occurred in the music of traditional theatre throughout India, particularly in south India. Now most of the dozens of different regional theatre traditions have been much attenuated if not obliterated by films, television and video, and the influence of theatre song on folk music has been replaced by the influence of popular, mostly film, song.

As discuused above, the end of royal patronage and decline of jajmānī patronage of musicians has driven many into brass bands and non-musical occupations. The advent of industrial technology, especially the mass media, has also had profound effects on Indian folk music. Industrialization continues to compete with agrarian institutions and culture in India: 74% of the population is still classed as rural, but in India as elsewhere the outside job or educational institution draws the individual away (sometimes far away) from the agrarian-based family and community, with new time commitments and loyalties. At the same time, material goods are made available and desirable, motivating people to take paid employment. More time at work means less time for family, including weddings and other musical get-togethers. In 1971 three-day weddings were the norm in rural Bihar. By 1995 one-day weddings were common, and the need for professional musicians thereby much reduced.

5. Music and cultural change.

The effects of new technology on folk music have been both negative and positive. New technology in some cases has simply removed the traditional contexts of music. For example, women used to sing while grinding grain at their querns. In all but the smaller villages women now take their grain to electric mills for grinding. But new technology also brought new musical instruments to India. The harmonium became one of the most common instruments in Indian folk music, and the impact of Western band instruments has been discussed above. Musicians in the 1970s began adding electronic amplification to acoustic instruments such as the slide guitar and ‘bānjo’ or ānandalaharī, a zither originally imported from Japan. Now electronic instruments such as keyboards are also being used.

Mass media, printing, radio, film, records and cassettes, television and video tapes have also wrought extensive changes in traditional music, both positive and negative. Initially the printing of cheap newsprint booklets with song texts to be sung to traditional tunes no doubt expanded the repertories of singers. Radio broadcasts of local musicians and styles also stimulated pride and interest in local music as well as enhancing the reputations of radio performers. The use of traditional-style music in films also no doubt enhanced the attractiveness of the music to people in the regions whose music was employed or imitated.

By the 1970s regional music stores/record companies such as Madan Machinery Mart in Varanasi had substantial lists of traditional songs in regional languages on 45 and 78 r.p.m. records. These were not performed in purely traditional styles but were regularized and accompanied by classical instruments such as tablā and śahnāī. The appearance of traditional music on such records must have excited and encouraged local musicians and music enthusiasts. It also made local music available in modern form, to compete with the nationally circulated product of larger record companies, which in many cases lacked regional cultural significance. Films by this time had for decades been exploiting traditional music styles. But the relationship between traditional music and films worked both ways, and traditional musicians have been setting traditional texts to the melodies of film songs for almost as long.

The advent of records, and later cassettes, augmented the destruction of traditional music. This became noticeable at village weddings in the 1970s, at which disc jockeys would be hired to play records, in those days entirely film songs, over loud public address systems. These systems also amplify film music outside various commercial establishments, bhajans (live and pre-recorded) at Hindu shrines and temples, the Muslim call to prayer, commercials for lottery tickets and politicians’ harangues, some at ear-splitting volume. Village women would sing despite the blaring pop music, but their songs were not heard over the din, and they were discouraged. Then came the more affordable and portable cassette technology. In 1995 the broadcast of cassette recordings of traditional music and śahnāī was clearly supplanting live singing and śahnāī ensembles at weddings in Bihar. During the spring season, when Saraswati, the goddess of music and learning, was traditionally worshipped with kīrtan singing at temporary outdoor booth-shrines, cassette players and public address systems in the shrines were now broadcasting film music on cassettes. This is the ritual use of recorded music.

The undeniable result of recorded music in these contexts is less live music, and what creativity there is in the playing of recorded music is limited to the selection of items to be played. In another context for recorded traditional music, the music is played purely for listening enjoyment by the purchaser. Here the use of the music is changed from ritual requirement to entertainment, no doubt the most common use of recorded traditional music. This is also true of another type of change taking place in Indian traditional music contexts, which Jairazbhoy has called ‘festivalization’ (1991, pp.65–6). Music, once a part of the religious ritual of a group, becomes entertainment, which tends to push music style in the direction of spectacle, as with the Gond dance troupes mentioned above.

Other changes in society have contributed to the decline of traditional music. In the Chattisgarh region of eastern-central India it has been observed that formal education may result in ‘a perception of what it means to “act literate”’, which may preclude participation in certain performances and festivals (Flueckiger in Appadurai etc., 1991). Changes in society and economy in some regions have added more stigma to the occupation of professional traditional musicians. Some people in a caste involved with music performance for many centuries, the Cārans of Gujarat, now do not want their caste associated with music (Thompson, 1992). This has also been noted of a similar group, the Jogīs of Rajasthan. Many of them are not passing on their musical knowledge to their children. Verma (1987) notes that this is because ‘it was getting more and more demeaning and less and less remunerative’.

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Grove6 (B. Wade)

A. Fox-Strangways: The Music of Hindustan (Oxford, 1914/R)

N.A. Jairazbhoy: ‘Ethnomusicology in the Indian Context’, National Centre for the Performing Arts, xiii/3 (1984), 31–9

N.A. Jairazbhoy: ‘Performance, Music and the Child’, Aditi: the Living Arts of India (Washington DC, 1985), 219–46

S. Blackburn and A. Ramanujan, eds.: Another Harmony: New Essays on the Folklore of India (Berkeley, 1986)

P. Manuel, ed.: Popular Musics of the Non-Western World: an Introductory Survey (New York, 1988)

S. Blackburn and others, eds.: Oral Epics in India (Berkeley, 1989)

A. Appadurai, F. Korom and M. Mills, eds.: Gender, Genre and Power in South Asian Expressive Traditions (Philadelphia,1991) [incl. J. Flueckiger: ‘Genre and Community in the Folklore System’]

B. Wade and S. Chaudhuri, eds.: Text, Tone, and Tune: Parameters of Music in Multicultural Perspective (New Delhi, 1993) [incl. cassette]

L. Babb and S. Wadley, eds.: Media and the Transformation of Religion in South Asia (Philadelphia, 1995)

north india

B. Wade: ‘Songs of Traditional Wedding Ceremonies in North India’, YIFMC, iv (1972), 57–65

A.R. Catlin: ‘Whither the Manganihars? an Investigation into Change among Professional Musicians in Western Rajasthan’, Bulletin of the Institute of Traditional Cultures (1977), 165–78

E. Henry: ‘Music in the Thinking of North Indian Villagers’, AsM, ix/1 (1977), 1–12

N.A. Jairazbhoy: ‘Music in Western Rajasthan: Stability and Change’, YIFMC, ix (1977), 50–66

K. Kothari: ‘Rural-Urban Transitions’, IMSCR XII: Berkeley 1977, 595–603

V.P. and S. Vatuk: ‘The Ethnography of Sang, a North Indian Folk Opera’, Studies in Indian Folk Traditions, ed. V.P. Vatuk (Delhi, 1979), 15–37

R. and S. Freed: Rites of Passage in Shanti Nagar (New York, 1980)

I. Junghare: ‘Songs of the Mahars: an Untouchable Caste of Maharashtra, India’, EthM, xxvii (1983), 71–96

S. Wadley: ‘Dhola: a North Indian Folk Genre’, Asian Folklore Studies, xlii (1983), 3–26

Folk Musicians of Rajasthan, videotape, dir. N.A. Jairazbhoy, UCLA (Los Angeles, 1984) [incl. monograph]

J. Erdman: Patrons and Performers in Rajasthan (New Delhi, 1985)

C. Capwell: The Music of the Bauls of Bengal (Kent, OH, 1986)

K. Hansen: ‘Written Traditions of a Folk Form: Nautanki Chapbooks’, India Magazine (January, 1986)

S. Slawek: Kīrtan: a Study of the Sonic Manifestations of the Divine in the Popular Hindu Culture of Benares (diss., U. of Illinois, 1986)

N. Sahai-Achuthan: ‘Folk Songs of Uttar Pradesh’, EthM, xxxi (1987), 395–406

V. Verma: The Living Music of Rajasthan (New Delhi, 1987) [incl. disc]

E. Henry: Chant the Names of God: Music and Culture in Bhojpuri-Speaking India (San Diego,1988)

E. Henry: ‘Social Structure and Music: Correlating Musical Genres and Social Categories in Bhojpuri-Speaking India’, International Review of the Aesthetics and Sociology of Music, xix (1988), 217–27

S. Slawek: ‘Popular Kīrtan in Benares: Some “Great” Aspects of a Little Tradition’, EthM, xxxii (1988), 77–92

L. Tewari: ‘Sohar: Childbirth Songs of Joy’, Asian Folklore Studies, xlvii (1988), 257–76

K. Kothari: ‘Performers, Gods, and Heroes in the Oral Epics of Rajasthan’, Oral Epics in India, ed. S. Blackburn, P. Claus, J. Flueckiger and S. Wadley (Berkeley, 1989)

S. Marcus: ‘The Rise of a Folk Music Genre: Birahā’, Culture and Power in Benares: Community, Performance and Environment, 1800-1980, ed. S. Freitag (Berkeley, 1989)

G. Booth: ‘Brass Bands: Tradition, Change and the Mass Media in Indian Wedding Music’, EthM, xxxiv (1990), 245–62

C. Babiracki: ‘Music and the History of Tribe-Caste Interaction in Chotanagpur’, Modern Music History, ed. S. Blum, P. Bohlman and D. Neuman (Champaign, IL, 1991)

G. Booth: ‘Disco Laggī: Modern Repertoire and Traditional Performance Practice in North Indian Popular Music’, AsM, xxiii (1991), 61–84

E. Henry: ‘Jogīs and Nirgun Bhajans in Bhojpuri-Speaking India: Intra-Genre Heterogeneity, Adaptation and Functional Shift’, EthM, xxxv (1991), 221–42

J. Petigrew: ‘Songs of the Sikh Resistance Movement’, AsM, xxiii (1991), 85–118

J. Smith: The Epic of Pābujī: a Study, Transcription and Translation (Cambridge,1991)

I. Srivastava: ‘Woman in Indian Women’s Folksongs’, Asian Folklore Studies, l (1991), 269–310

A. Gold: A Carnival of Parting: the Tales of King Bharthari and King Gopi Chand as Sung and Told by Madhu Natisar Nath of Ghatiyali, Rajasthan (Berkeley, 1992)

K. Hansen: Grounds for Play: the Nautanki Theatre of North India (Berkeley, 1992)

G. Thompson: ‘The Barots of Gujarati-Speaking Western India: Musicianship and Caste Identity’, AsM, xxiv (1992), 1–17

G. Thompson: ‘The Cārans of Gujarat: Caste Identity, Music and Cultural Change’, EthM, xxxv (1992), 381–91

P. Manuel: Cassette Culture: Popular Music and Technology in North India (Chicago, 1993)

K. Kothari: ‘Musicians for the People: the Manganiyārs of Western Rajasthan’,The Idea of Rajasthan, ed. K. Schomer and others (New Delhi, 1994), 205–37

P. Manuel: ‘Syncretism and Adaptation in Rasiya: a Braj Folksong Genre’, Journal of Vaisnava Studies, iii (1994), 33–60

G. Raheja and A. Gold: Listen to the Heron’s Words: Reimagining Gender and Kinship in North India (Berkeley, 1994)

E. Henry: ‘The Vitality of the Nirgun Bhajan: Sampling the Contemporary Tradition’,Bhakti Religion in North India: Community, Identity and Political Action, ed. D. Lorenzen (Albany, NY, 1995), 231–50

S. Marcus: ‘Parody Generated Texts: the Process of Composition in Birahā, a North Indian Folk Music Genre’, AsM, xxvi (1995), 95–147

R. Qureshi: Sufi Music of India and Pakistan (Chicago, 1995)

G. Thompson: ‘What’s in a Dhāl? Evidence of Rāga-Like Approaches in a Gujarati Musical Tradition’, EthM, xxxix (1995), 417–32

A. Gaston: Krishna’s Musicians: Musicians and Music Making in the Temples of Nathdvara Rajasthan (Delhi, 1997)

S. Ray: Folk Music of Eastern India: with Special Reference to Bengal (Shimla, forthcoming)

K. Das: The Bauls of Bengal (Calcutta, n.d.)

south india

GEWM, v (2000) (‘Karnataka’, G.R. Kassebaum and P.J. Claus; ‘Andhra Pradesh’, G.H. Roghair; ‘Tamil Nadu’, R.K. Wolf and Z.C. Sherinian; ‘Kerala’, R. Groesbeck and J.J. Palackal)

E. Thurston and K.Rangachari: Castes and Tribes of Southern India (Madras, 1904)

S. Balakrishnan: ‘Folk Music in the Life of Tamilnad’, Sangeet Natak, no.12 (1969), 40–49

B.C. Deva and J. Kuckertz: Bhārūd, Vāghyā-murali and the Daff-gān of the Deccan: Studies in the Regional Folk Music of South India (Munich and Salzburg, 1981) [incl. cassette]

G. Venu: ‘Tolpava Koothu: the Traditional Shadow Puppet Play of Kerala’, Quarterly Journal of the National Centre for Performing Arts, x/4 (1981), 25–36

G.H. Roghair: The Epic of Palnādu: the Study and Translation of ‘Palnāti Vīrula Katha’, a Telugu Epic from Andhra Pradesh, India (Oxford, 1982)

V.S. Devi: Folk Music of Andhra Pradesh (New Delhi, 1985)

S.H. Blackburn: ‘Performance Markers in an Indian Story-Type’, Another Harmony: New Essays on the Folklore of India, ed. S.H. Blackburn and A.K. Ramanujan (Delhi, 1986), 167–94

M.T. Egnor: ‘Internal Iconicity in Paraiyar “Crying Songs”’, Another Harmony: New Essays on the Folklore of India, ed. S.H. Blackburn and A.K. Ramanujan (Delhi, 1986), 294–344

V. Narayana Rao: ‘Epics and Ideologies: Six Telugu Folk Epics’, Another Harmony: New Essays on the Folklore of India, ed. S.H. Blackburn and A.K. Ramanujan (Delhi, 1986), 131–64

A.K. Ramanujan: ‘Two Realms of Kannada Folklore’, Another Harmony: New Essays on the Folklore of India, ed. S.H. Blackburn and A.K. Ramanujan (Delhi, 1986), 41–75

S.H. Blackburn: Singing of Birth and Death: Texts in Performance (Philadelphia, 1988)

J. Kuckertz: ‘Folk Songs in Karnataka’, Journal of the Music Academy, Madras, lix (1988), 170–79

M. Trawick: ‘Spirits and Voices in Tamil Songs’, American Ethnologist, xv (1988), 193–215

J. GoldbergBelle: ‘Clowns in Control: Performances in a Shadow Puppet Tradition in South India’, Oral Epics in India, ed. S.H. Blackburn and others (Berkeley, 1989), 118–39

T. Vishwanadha Reddy: An Anthropological Study of Telugu Folk Songs (Tirupati, 1989)

The Bake Restudy 1984, videotape, dir. N.A. Jairazbhoy and A. Catlin, Apsara Media (Van Nuys, CA, 1991) [incl. monograph]

P.J. Claus: ‘Kin Songs’, Gender, Genre and Power in South Asian Expressive Traditions, ed. A. Appadurai, F.J. Korom and M.A. Mills (Philadelphia, 1991), 136–77

V. Narayana Rao: ‘A Rāmāyana of Their Own: Women's Oral Tradition in Telugu’, Many Rāmāyanas: the Diversity of a Narrative Tradition in South Asia, ed. P. Richman (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1991), 114–36

M. Trawick: ‘Wandering Lost: a Landless Laborer's Sense of Place and Self’, Gender, Genre and Power in South Asian Expressive Traditions, ed. A. Appadurai, F.J. Korom and M.A. Mills (Philadelphia, 1991), 224–66

G. Kassebaum: Katha: Six Performance Traditions and the Preservation of Group Identity in Karnataka, South India (diss., U. of Washington, 1994)

V. Ramaswamy: ‘Women and the “Domestic” in Tamil Folk Songs’, Man in India, lxxiv/1 (1994), 21–37

S. Blackburn: Inside the Drama House: Rāma Stories and Shadow Puppets in South India (Berkeley, 1996)

G.D. Booth: ‘The Madras Corporation Band: a Story of Social Change and Indigenization’, AsM, xxviii/1 (1996–7), 61–86

P.D. Greene: ‘Sound Engineering in a Tamil Village: Playing Audio Cassettes as Devotional Performance’, EthM, xxxxiii (1999), 459–89

R. Groesbeck: ‘“Classical Music”, “Folk Music” and the Brahmanical Temple in Kerala, India’, AsM, xxx/2 (1999), 87–112

R. Groesbeck: ‘Cultural Constructions of Improvisation in Tāyampaka: a Genre of Temple Instrumental Music in Kerala, India’, EthM, xxxxiii (1999), 1–30

ādivāsī music

M. Bhuriya: Folk-Songs of the Bhils (Indore, 1979)

O. Prasad: Santal Music (New Delhi, 1985)

C. Babiracki: ‘Tribal Music in the Study of Great and Little Traditions of Indian Music’, Comparative Musicology and Anthropology of Music, ed. B. Nettl and P. Bohlman (Chicago, 1991)

Follow the Rainbow, videotape, dir. V. Joshi and R. Palit (New York, 1992)

recordings

Folk Music of India (Orissa), Lyrichord LLST 7183 (1967) [incl. notes by N.A. Jairazbhoy]

Chants de devotion et d’amour, coll. G. Dournon-Taurelle, Harmonia Mundi HMU 959 (1972) [incl. notes by G. Dournon-Taurelle and K. Kothari]

Folk Music of India: Uttar Pradesh, Lyrichord LLST 7271 (1975) [incl. notes by L. Tewari]

Chant the Names of God: Village Music of the Bhojpuri-Speaking Area of India, Rounder Records 5008 (1981) [incl. notes by E. Henry]

Tribal Music of India: the Muria and Maria Gonds of Madhya Pradesh, coll. R. Knight, Folkways FE 4028 (1983) [incl. notes by R. Knight]

A Musical Journey through India 1963–1964, coll. N.A. Jairazbhoy, UCLA Dept. of Ethnomusicology (1988) [incl. notes by N.A. Jairazbhoy]

Flutes du Rajasthan, coll. G. Dournon, Chant du Monde LDX 274645 (1989) [incl. notes by G. Dournon]

Inde: fanfare de mariage, perf. New Bharat Brass-Band of Bangalore, rec. R. Broadbank, Buda 92590-2 (1992) [incl. notes by C. Ledoux]

Inde: Rajasthan: musiciens professionnels populaires, coll. G. Dournon, Ocora C 580044 (1994) [incl. notes by G. Dournon]

Rajasthan: les musiciens du desert, coll. G. Luneau and K. Kothari, Ocora C 580058 (1995) [incl. notes by G. Luneau and K. Kothari]

Inde: percussions rituelles du Kerala/India: Ritual Percussion of Kerala, rec. R. Killius, AIMP VDE CD-971 and VDE CD-972 (1998) [incl. notes by R. Killius]

Since the mid-20th century India has hosted one of the world's largest popular music industries. The field of Indian popular music has been dominated by film music, particularly as associated with the Bombay (Mumbai)-based Hindi film industry. Indian films and film music are popular not only in South Asia itself, but also throughout much of the developing world. Since the early 1980s the diversity and vitality of the Indian music industry have been dramatically enhanced by the advent of cassette technology and of regional-language folk-pop hybrids that flourish independently of cinema. Concurrently, as South Asian communities in Europe, North America and elsewhere grow in size and economic power, Indian popular music has become an even more extensive international phenomenon.

VIII. Film and popular musics

India, Subcontinent of, §VIII: Film and popular musics

1. Film music.

The term film music in India generally refers to the songs in commercial Indian films. Indian film makers have incorporated both songs and dances in virtually all popular films since the first Indian sound feature film in 1931. Producers of the early talkies drew on native dramatic traditions combining song, dance and drama as a means of attracting audiences to the cinema, and the overwhelming success of their musical productions led all subsequent commercial film producers to adopt this musical formula. Background music and other musical components of the film, corresponding to the term ‘film music’ in the West, have little market value beyond the production and are not discussed in this article.

Since the 1930s the Indian film industry has grown enormously, and India has become the largest feature film-producing nation (795 films in 1995). Its cinematic extravaganzas, designed to appeal to hundreds of millions of Indians, combine melodrama, romance, comedy, tragedy, violence, music and dance in two and a half to three hours of escapist entertainment. An average of six to ten songs per film enhance the entertainment value and highlight the film’s main characters. In addition to their role in cinema, film songs became the first commercial popular music in India, mass produced on vinyl, cassettes and CDs and marketed nationwide. Various non-film popular music forms have arisen since the 1980s, but film songs still represent a significant proportion of India’s popular music market. Hindi film song styles, on which this article focusses, have influenced regional film and non-film music and have affected musical taste throughout India.

From the 1930s to the 1950s film song composers (‘music directors’) experimented with the musical forces available to them in an effort to create a new, modern Indian music that served the increasingly Westernized film productions. The early sound-films, like the very first Indian talkie, Alam ara (‘Light of the World’), produced by the Imperial Film Company in Bombay, were filmed stage plays; their songs were indistinguishable from the Indian stage songs or light-classical vocal pieces of the time. Within the first decade of sound film production, composers were beginning to introduce Western instruments, Western scale patterns and other non-traditional musical elements. In attempting to suit the music to the character of the film, music directors found greater opportunities in the developing genre of the ‘social film’ than in the earlier mythological, historical and devotional film subjects (fig.18). By the late 1940s a distinctive film song style had emerged that was recognizably Indian but different from existing genres, synthesizing native and foreign musical features. The vocal melody had become simpler and less ornamented than non-film vocal music, the lyrics contained less poetic, more ‘everyday’ language, the song settings incorporated more prominent instrumental interludes, the orchestral arrangements included Western harmonies, and advances in recording technology enabled the introduction of effects such as reverberation and echo. Music directors drew on all types of Indian music, from the classical traditions to their native regional music (e.g. Naushadfrom Uttar Pradesh, Anil Biswas from Calcutta and Ghulam Haider from the Punjab). Some took a more eclectic approach, like C. Ramchandra from Maharashtra, who adopted swing in Shin shinaki boobla boo (1952), jazz in Shehnai (1947) and Latin American rhythms in various films such as Albela (1951) and Ghungru (1952).

Whereas composers in the 1950s and 60s emphasized song lyrics and tunes, many in the 1970s created film songs to suit the violent action-movie trend of the decade. These later films contained fewer songs (averaging four or five) with more angular vocal lines, fast rhythms and long instrumental interludes to accompany screen action. The 1970s marked the end of the ‘golden age of melody’, although in the 1980s and 90s lyrical melodies began to appear once again in Indian cinema. Imitation of Western pop styles is pervasive, and the copying of Western pop songs is far from uncommon. However, Indian film music still retains its Indian character through its vocal style and use of Indian languages, and it remains a popular music within South Asian culture.

(i) Production.

(ii) Style.

(iii) Singers.

(iv) Instrumentation.

(v) Social impact.

India, Subcontinent of, §VIII, 1: Film and popular musics, Film music.

(i) Production.

Film song composition is the work of a music director and musical assistants, while film song production requires an entire production team. The film music director begins the process by composing a melody or drawing upon a previously composed tune to suit the mood of a scene. Until the 1950s the song writer often composed the lyrics first, enabling the music director to provide a meaningful text setting. With the greater workloads and shorter production schedules of more recent years, however, music directors frequently compose melodies without lyrics or with ‘dummy’ (senseless) words, and the lyricist must compose a text to fit the tune. The task of orchestral arrangement, the next step in the compositional process, today rests often with musical assistants whose jobs range from creating and notating orchestral parts to conducting the studio orchestra. In the recording studio the orchestral musicians, the recording engineer(s) and the singer(s) all play their role in the production process. The singer (called a playback artist, since the song recording is ‘played back’ during the shooting of the song sequence) learns and rehearses the song for the first time immediately prior to the recording. Singers generally write down the lyrics in their own songbooks and may add notations to help them remember the song melody when the music director orally transmits the lyrics and tune in the recording room. Playback singers must reproduce the song according to the music director’s wishes, though some directors allow singers a certain amount of freedom in expressing the song text (such as adding vocal ornaments or stressing particular tones), especially when the singer is experienced.

The recording engineer participates in the creative process through technical decisions ranging from balance and dynamics to track mixing and post-dubbing (necessary if a singer is unable to be present at the song recording). Multi-track recording enables the recording engineer, music director and lyricist (and in some cases also the singer, film director or producer) to be involved in the recording and mixing of the song. The music director’s initial conception of a song can be vastly different from the final recorded version.

India, Subcontinent of, §VIII, 1: Film and popular musics, Film music.

(ii) Style.

Hindi filmi gīt (film song) has played a dominant role since Bombay became the centre of north Indian film production in the late 1940s, following the decline of the major film studios in Pune and Calcutta (fig.20). Although annual film production in south Indian languages surpassed that of Hindi in the 1980s, Hindi cinema has nevertheless produced tens of thousands of film songs since 1931 that have strongly influenced Indian musical culture and in some cases replaced traditional music genres. The Hindi film song genre employs several musical forms related to traditional Indian song forms on which they are based: film bhajan (see §VI, 1 above), film folk song, film qavvālī (see §VI, 2(ii) above), film ghazal and film thumrī (see §IV above). The most common film song form is a refrain-verse structure similar to the two section sthāyī-antarā of north Indian music or pallavi-anupallavi of south Indian music (see §III, 5(i) above). Typically a song begins with an orchestral introduction followed by the accompanied vocal refrain sung in the lower part of the singer’s range (occasionally a vocal introduction precedes the orchestral opening). The singer repeats the refrain after each verse, which is usually set in the singer’s upper range. Orchestral interludes, called ‘music’ by music directors, follow each verse-refrain section.

The current film vocal style differs dramatically from traditional Indian singing styles. During the first two decades of Indian sound-film, film actor-singers (such as Kundenlal Saigal and Pahari Sanyal) and actress-singers (such as Shamshad Begum, Rajkumari and Zohrabai) were predominantly theatre artists trained in classical or light-classical vocal music, whose voices were strong, forceful and open-throated. Following partition in 1947, when many film music directors and singers settled in Pakistan, a new ‘thin’, high-pitched voice was heard in cinemas and on radios. Lata Mangeshkar presented a new vocal style to the world of Indian cinema, of which the public became enamoured, as did such composers as Khemchand Prakash, Anil Biswas, Naushad, C. Ramchandra and Sajjad, who began moulding songs for her wide vocal range, smooth voice and less ornate singing style. Among male singers, Kundenlal Saigal is often credited with popularizing the sentimental ‘crooning’ style from the West and the sweet, softer vocal style that spread rapidly among such playback singers as Mohammed Rafi and Mukesh in the 1950s.

Most music directors in the first few decades were classically trained musicians or singers who drew on this musical background for film song compositions. At the Prabhat Film Company in Pune, music directors Keshavrao Bhole, Master Krishnarao and Govindrao Tembe were performers of Indian classical music and Marathi stage music. They employed rāga, classical vocal compositions (cīz) and ornamentation (gamaka) in their film songs, which suited the mythological, historical and devotional film subjects of the 1930s and 40s. At the same time, music directors at Prabhat and the New Theatres Film Company in Calcutta experimented with new ideas, from the use of meaningless song lyrics and multilingual verses of Master Krishnarao’s songs in Aadmi (1939) to the incorporation of Western scale patterns, song forms, orchestration and vocal vibrato in New Theatres’ songs by Rai Chand Boral and Pankaj Mullick. ‘Social’ films set in the present, and socially conscious films dealing with issues of social injustice, provided these composers with the opportunity to introduce novelty into film music. Music directors of this era were limited, however, both by technology (noisy, cumbersome recording equipment and the initial inability to record sound and picture separately) and by the vocal abilities of the singer, which ranged from little or no musical training among some early film actor- and actress-singers to experienced classical singers.

Knowledge of Indian classical music was considered a requirement for film music directors even up to the 1960s, but some composers of the late 1940s and the 1950s chose to draw inspiration less from this musical source than from further afield. Hindi music directors Naushad, C. Ramchandra and S.D. Burman, for example, introduced folk music from their native states of Uttar Pradesh, Maharashtra and Bengal respectively, and Ramchandra experimented with Latin American rhythms and Western swing. In this heyday of melody-orientated film song, film productions could earn box-office success on the popularity of their songs alone, and the status of popular music directors soared. By the 1970s the romantic song and dance extravaganza of earlier decades gave way to action thrillers, and music directors such as R.D. Burman, Ravi and the duos Lakshmikant-Pyarelal and Kalyanji-Anandji produced Westernized, rhythm-dominated numbers and disco songs to complement the latest trend. Since then new music directors have succeeded in entering the industry with little or no musical training or background, and music directors in general have come to rely heavily on music assistants who compose individual elements of the film song, which are then combined in the finished product.

The majority of film song lyrics are on the subject of love. Lyricists also write devotional, seasonal, festive and work song texts depending on the nature of the film narrative and the requirements of the film producer and director. Hindi-Urdu film songwriters of the 1930s, such as Arzoo Lucknavi, Pradeep and D.N. Madhok, were often poets in their own right who employed stylized poetic language. Those of the next decade, many of whom were also well-respected poets such as Pyarelal Santoshi, Pandit Bhushan, Pandit Indra, Narottam Vyas, Shams Lucknavi, Qamar Jalalabadi and Narendra Sharma, introduced a less stylized, freer form of lyric writing. By the 1950s and 60s three Hindi film lyricists in particular – Rajendra Krishan, Majruh Sultanpuri and Shakeel Badayuni – were much in demand for their poetic song texts that conveyed meaning and emotion to the audience. The language of film lyrics in more recent years has become less poetic, less literary and more commonplace, as songwriters have attempted to appeal to an ever broader mass audience.

India, Subcontinent of, §VIII, 1: Film and popular musics, Film music.

(iii) Singers.

Unlike music directors, singers have always needed musical training to gain entry into the film music industry. The well-known male Hindi film playback singer Mohammed Rafi (1924–80) studied with classical vocalists Abdul Wahid Khan and Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, and Manna Dey’s teachers included Aman Ali Khan and Abdul Rehman Khan. The greatest and most successful female playback singer in the history of Indian film, Lata Mangeshkar, received her early musical training from her theatre actor-singer father, Dinanath Mangeshkar. After his death in 1942 she became a disciple of Aman Ali Khan Bindibazarwala until his departure for Pakistan in 1947, and of Amanat Ali Khan until his death in 1951. Her younger sister, Asha Bhosle, studied classical music in the late 1940s at the beginning of her playback career.

Between the 1940s and the 1970s a relatively small number of singers achieved success and popularity as Hindi film playback artists. Besides Rafi and Manna Dey, Mukesh (1923–76), Talat Mahmood and Kishore Kumar (1929–87) were the best-known male singers. Geeta Dutt and Shamshad Begum joined the Mangeshkar sisters as the principal female singers. Since this time an increasing number of singers have made their débuts, including male artists Abhiject, Mohammad Aziz, Amit Kumar, Nitin Mukesh, Udit Narayan, Sonu Nigam, Kumar Sanu, Manmohan Singh and Suresh Wadkar, and female singers Kavita Krishnamurti, Sapna Mukherjee, Jaspinder Narula, Anuradha Paudwal, Sadhana Sargam and Alka Yagnik. Notable playback singers of south Indian films include P. Susheela, Srinivasan and Jamunarani of the early years, S. Janaki and T.M. Soundarajan of the 1960s, and Shushila, Vani Jairam, S.P. Balasubramanium, Yesudas and Ilaiyaraja of more recent decades.

India, Subcontinent of, §VIII, 1: Film and popular musics, Film music.

(iv) Instrumentation.

The ensemble that accompanies film songs resembles a Western symphony orchestra with strings, woodwinds, brass and percussion, in addition to electronic instruments and traditional Indian instruments. Musicians work freelance, and most belong to the Cine Musicians Association, which grades artists according to their musical skills and fixes rates of pay for each grade. Music directors hire musicians for their studio recordings according to the needs of the film and the film budget. Large orchestras were unknown in the 1930s and early 1940s. The first film song accompaniments were provided by a small instrumental ensemble typical of light classical Indian music – harmonium, violin, sārangī and tablā – and musicians were employed by the major film studios in Bombay, Pune, Calcutta and Madras. By the late 1930s studios were already increasing the size of their ‘orchestra’, adding Indian instruments such as the sitār, sarod, tablātarang (set of tuned tablā) and jaltarang (set of tuned, water-filled bowls), and the Western piano, cello, trumpet, saxophone and clarinet. When the film studios declined in the late 1940s, unable to compete financially with the massive influx of independent film producers who were benefiting from business investments and wartime profiteering during World War II and India’s independence from the British, film makers were forced to exploit cinematic elements such as film songs in order to achieve box-office success. Film producer-director Raj Kapoor, together with a music director duo Shankar and Jaikishen, employed much larger instrumental forces than had previously been used in Hindi film song accompaniment. Their songs highlighted the large violin section, and they began to associate particular instruments with screen characters in a systematic manner (e.g. the violin with actor Raj Kapoor in Barsaat, 1949, the piano accordion with the same actor in Awara, 1951). Such efforts increased both the recognition, popularity and status of music directors and the role of the orchestra in film songs. In more recent decades music directors have expanded their musical forces to include such instruments as electronic keyboards and synthesizers.

India, Subcontinent of, §VIII, 1: Film and popular musics, Film music.

(v) Social impact.

Film music has had a major impact on Indian musical culture in the 20th century. For several decades film songs were India’s only mass-produced popular music, and the aggressive and widespread distribution and exhibition of Indian films disseminated these nationwide. Radio and television broadcasting, legitimate and pirated cassette sales and live musical performance have also spread Indian film songs both in India and abroad. With little competition from other entertainment forms or popular music styles, film songs dominated the market. Only with the introduction of cassette technology in the late 1970s have independent recording companies been successful in challenging the dominant position of the Gramophone Company of India and in fostering the growth of regional and local popular music styles (see §2 below). Such developments have provided the Indian public with alternative forms of native popular music, yet film songs remain a significant sector of the Indian popular music market. Despite their creation not by the people themselves but by a large corporate industry, film songs have succeeded in appealing to millions of Indians at home and abroad, Indians of all social classes and castes, all age groups, economic levels, religions and political persuasions.

India, Subcontinent of, §VIII: Film and popular musics

2. Popular music.

Although film music has been the dominant category of Indian popular music since the 1930s, other kinds of commercially marketed music predate the cinema era and, in recent decades, have come to rival film music in sales. In many respects the popular musics produced independently of cinema since 1980 have been able to reflect to a much greater degree the cultural and linguistic diversity of India's heterogeneous population and have been vehicles for some of the most dynamic aspects of contemporary musical expression in South Asia.

(i) Non-film musics to 1980.

Commercial production and marketing of recordings in India commenced in 1902, nearly three decades before the advent of sound-film in the region. The market for the earliest recordings, however, was largely restricted to upper-class consumers able to afford such luxuries. Although in the early decades of the century several small Indian-owned record producers emerged, from its inception the music industry was dominated by the British-owned Gramophone Company of India (which adopted the logo HMV in 1910 and was acquired by EMI in 1931). The expansion of the record industry in the 1930s coincided with the marketing of somewhat cheaper phonographs, the spread of radio and the advent of sound-films and the attendant film music industry, which soon came to dominate record production and the popular music scene as a whole.

Aside from film music, record production in the first half of the century comprised a variety of music categories, including classical and light-classical items and assorted regional and devotional genres. Much of this output was essentially traditional in style and falls outside the category of commercial popular music. By the 1930s, however, certain trends and stylistic developments had emerged, which reflected, however obliquely, commercial marketing strategies and the impact of recording. In north India such tendencies were most marked in the recordings of the Urdu ghazal (see §IV, 2 above), which, aside from being a major sub-genre of film music, also constituted the single largest category of ‘non-filmi ’ music. Ghazal is the predominant genre of Urdu poetry, consisting of thematically independent couplets set to a strict metre and rhyme scheme in the form AA BA CA etc. In north India as elsewhere, ghazal had flourished for centuries as a light-classical music genre, alternating tuneful, reiterated refrains on the rhyming (A) lines of each couplet with affective melodic improvisation (bol banāo) on the non-rhyming lines. From the start of commercial recording in India, producers had found the ghazal to be an effective vehicle for mass marketing, since it was popular among a relatively broad spectrum of educated, upper-class Hindi- and Urdu-speakers throughout north India. Recorded ghazal s, aside from being restricted to a three-minute format, came to acquire certain features that distinguished them from live light-classical renderings. Most evident was the decline of improvisation, both in the vocal renderings of the couplets and, more conspicuously, in the tendency to replace tablā improvisations (called laggī) between verses with pre-composed instrumental passages, often played by ensembles that included Western as well as indigenous melodic instruments. By the 1940s such features were standard both in film ghazal s (such as those of Talat Mahmood) and in those marketed independently of the cinema. They also distinguished filmi and non-filmi commercial versions of qavvālī (see §VI, 2(ii) above) from traditional live qavvālī, which emphasized expansive and often virtuoso vocal improvisations. Implicit in such stylistic changes was a transformation of the music from an excerpted process – of improvisation – to a commodified product, more in the nature of a fixed, pre-composed song.

In the decades after World War II, diverse genres of regional music arose that, although related variously to folk or light-classical idioms, could be regarded as commercial popular musics in their close association with the record industry. In north India such genres would include urban versions of Marathi lāvni, the Punjabi songs of vocalists such as Asa Singh Mastana and Surinder Kaur and the semi-classical Bengali ādhunik gān (‘modern song’) associated with such composers as Salil Chaudhuri and Kazi Nazrul Islam. To a certain extent, producers of such regional popular musics may have incorporated some aspects of film music and utilized parts of its production and distribution infrastructure. However, on the whole they suffered from competition with film music, which some likened to a great banyan tree under which little else could grow. Indeed, Indian popular music culture from 1940 to around 1980 was marked by the near hegemony of film music (see §1 above). The concentration of the film music industry itself was extreme, with a single multinational (EMI) and a tiny coterie of Bombay- and Madras-based singers and music directors producing a relatively standardized mainstream style of music for a vast and diverse mass audience. Although eclectic and vital in its own way, film music embodied little of the heterogeneity of South Asia’s regional music cultures and, firmly embedded as it was in the commercial cinematic context, offered little scope for oppositional or idiosyncratic personal expression.

(ii) The impact of cassettes.

From the late 1970s the Indian music industry underwent a dramatic restructuring that ended the monopolistic domination of EMI and of mainstream film music culture. The democratization of the industry was precipitated primarily by the spread of cassette technology subsequent to the liberalization of state economic policies in 1978. Cassettes proved to be a far more suitable mass medium for music in India than vinyl records. Cassettes and cassette players are inexpensive, durable, portable and have minimal power requirements. As such, by the mid-1980s they had become widespread in rural regions and among lower-class communities previously enjoying little access to phonographs. Most importantly, cassette production is incomparably cheaper than the production of records (not to mention films or CDs). The advent of cassette technology thus enabled several hundred music producers, large and small, to emerge throughout the nation, effectively decentralizing the music industry as a whole.

The transformation of the Indian popular music scene, however, happened over a period of several years, involving certain transitional stages. The most visible initial result of the spread of cassettes, aside from the rapid decline of vinyl record production, was the flowering of cassette-based piracy in the form of unauthorized duplication of extant commercial recordings. Until the enforcement of revised copyright legislation in the late 1980s cassette piracy plagued EMI, Polydor and emerging legitimate cassette producers in India, although it also promoted the spread of cassette players and in that sense laid foundations for the growth of legal enterprises.

Ultimately more significant a development than the rise of piracy was the emergence, from the late 1970s, of popular music genres that had no direct connection with cinema. The first of these was a modernized version of the Urdu ghazal, initially popularized by Pakistani singers Mehdi Hasan and Ghulam Ali. The new ‘crossover’ ghazal, with its leisurely vocal improvisations and sparse instrumentation (tablā and harmonium), retained some of the aura of its light-classical predecessor while featuring a softer, crooning vocal style and a more populist approach to bol banāo. Around 1980 a new set of Indian, mostly non-Muslim, performers such as Jagjit Singh further popularized the ghazal using simplified Urdu, soft, silky, string-based accompaniments and an improvisation style that classical aficionados regarded as tame and bland. The pop ghazal (disseminated primarily via cassettes) soon came to enjoy prodigious pan-regional popularity, especially among members of the growing Hindi-speaking bourgeoisie, who sought a music that sounded more refined than the increasingly disco-orientated film songs but that would at the same time be more accessible than classical music or, for that matter, the traditional light-classical ghazal. The cassette-based pop ghazal thus became the vehicle for the first group of singers to achieve mass popularity independently of cinema and for the rise of several independent recording companies that eclipsed HMV's former domination of the music industry. The ghazal vogue represented a transitional stage in the cassette boom, at a point when cassette usage had spread among the urban middle classes but not significantly beyond them.

Concurrently, Hindu vocalists Anup Jalota, Pankaj Udhas, Hari Om Sharan and others popularized a modernized form of the devotional Hindu bhajan, the style of which derived primarily from the pop ghazal and earlier ‘stage bhajans’ of such singers as V.D. Paluskar. Like the modern ghazal, the pop bhajan was disseminated primarily on cassettes to a pan-regional, Hindi-speaking, predominantly middle-class audience. The commercial bhajan has played a substantial role in the incorporation of Hinduism into mass-mediated popular culture and its continued reorientation toward bhakti (see §VI, 1 above) rather than ritual and orthodoxy.

By the mid-1980s, as cassette technology spread to rural communities and the lower classes, cassette producers of various sizes proliferated throughout the country. Many of these are small companies marketing specialized, regional-language genres to local audiences whose musics and dialects had been ignored by the film music and vinyl record industry. Much of the output of these ‘cottage cassette’ producers has consisted of traditional genres, such as narrative epic ballads, which had never before been disseminated via mass media. Of greater relevance here are the folk-pop hybrids, the styles of which seem in various ways to reflect the impact of commercialization. Perhaps the most conspicuous of these innovations is the common usage of accompanimental ensembles combining traditional and modern instruments, playing pre-composed passages during and between sung verses. While producers have found that certain consumers, such as Rajasthani villagers, generally prefer the traditional, sparse, drum-and-harmonium accompaniment, audiences in the less isolated regions of India prefer the perceivedly more modern sound of ensemble orchestration or, at the least, an electronic keyboard. Nevertheless, such accompaniments are seldom as elaborate as those typical of mainstream film music, with its violin sections and juxtapositions of contrasting orchestral timbres.

One category of the new cassette-based popular musics comprises the vast and diverse forms of devotional cassettes, sung in regional languages and honouring various deities or saints whose renown may be similarly regional. Like other folk and folk-pop recordings, such cassettes may adhere to traditional melodic and textual models, or they may reflect the more elaborate approaches of studio production, often setting new verses to melodies of familiar film songs.

Even more numerous than devotional music recordings are cassettes of diverse, secular, regional-language genres, many of which are best seen as modernized and commercialized versions of extant traditional styles. The Punjab (which straddles India and Pakistan) has been a particularly dynamic region for modern music, with performers like Gurdas Maan self-consciously combining traditional and modern elements in a popular song idiom generically labelled Bhangra, whose rise parallels that of a similar British-based Punjabi pop genre of the same name. Modern Gujarati popular music styles such as ‘disco dandia ’ draw liberally from the genres of rās and garba traditionally associated with the Navrātri festival. Commercial recordings of Braj-region rasiya and Bhojpuri birhā remain stylistically closer to their local roots, although enjoying unprecedented mass dissemination. Particularly popular among working-class consumers in the Bombay region are stylised versions of koli gīt or fishermen's songs. Other regions throughout India have generated various local pop musics, whether marketed by grassroots producers or by large, urban-based companies such as New Delhi's T-Series (‘Super Cassettes’). In north India, ‘Hindi pop’ has emerged as a substantial pan-regional genre, which includes many Hindi-language versions of American pop hits. These cassette-based popular musics have attained mass dissemination despite receiving little or no airplay on radio, which remains state-owned in India.

Unlike film music, which almost invariably deals with sentimental love, song texts in regional cassette-based musics reflect a prodigious amount of topical variety, in accordance with local conventions. As amateurs join established singers in releasing cassettes, regional folk-pop lyrics deal variously with local folklore, satire, politics and current events, as well as perennial romantic concerns. Particularly popular among lower-class male consumers are ribald, ‘spicy’ songs portraying titillating sexual encounters, often involving the traditionally flirtatious liaison between the young wife (in north India bhābhī or sālī) and her husband's younger brother (devar or jījā). Some such songs were traditionally performed at weddings and other informal festivities by women in sexually segregated contexts. Others, such as Marathi popat and Punjabi truck-drivers' songs, appear to be more modern in origin. Their widespread dissemination on commercial cassettes is controversial, as they are seen as crude and vulgar by many women, elders and bourgeois listeners.

In general, critics have charged that much of the cassette-based regional music is of low quality, that it represents a commercialization of traditional music cultures and that in some cases it may be thriving at the expense of live performance traditions. However, the latter allegation, and the effects of cassette marketing in general, are in many respects contradictory. Genres like birhā and Rajasthani kathā seem to be flourishing both live and on cassette. Cassette dissemination may further be seen to stimulate interest in certain traditional genres and to provide access to some styles that are otherwise declining. Similarly, while cassettes have served to disseminate film music even more extensively than before, they have also come to offer an unprecedented abundance of alternatives. Thus, due to the expansion of the music industry as a whole, sales of film music recordings have increased, but their share of recorded music sales has dropped dramatically.

In recent years, as income inequalities in India have heightened, the compact disc has become an increasingly popular format for the dissemination of classical music, film music, ghazals and other genres aimed at the wealthy. Disco-orientated re-mixes of old and new Hindi film songs using digital sampling techniques represent another sort of eclectic innovation popular among upper-class youth. The intensification of diaspora connections, the expansion of media networks and the ongoing integration of India into the global economy have further increased exposure to and popularity of Western music among the urban bourgeoisie. Accordingly, the exponential growth of the Indian music industry has accommodated tendencies both toward Westernization (as in genres such as Hindi pop and Gujarati rap) as well as indigenization, in the form of proliferating recordings of folk and folk-pop musics. As a result of such developments, the Indian popular music scene is considerably richer, more diverse and more receptive to its heterogeneous audiences than ever before.

India, Subcontinent of, §VIII: Film and popular musics

3. Jazz.

European colonial influence in India paved the way for the emergence of African-American music on the Indian subcontinent. During the mid-19th century black-face minstrel troupes, which had arrived first in Australia and subsequently went to India, provided the channels through which black American music and musicians were introduced into Indian urban culture.

Jazz arrived in India during the 1920s, when travelling dance bands from overseas (England, Canada and the United States) and local Indian bands began to perform at the major hotels in Bombay and Calcutta. Jimmy Leguime's Grand Hotel Orchestra and Abriani's Six were among the best-known foreign bands that performed in India around this time. These bands provided entertainment primarily for Europeans living in India.

While travelling in Europe in the 1930s, well-to-do Indians had discovered African-American jazz musicians, particularly in Paris, and subsequently arranged for Indian hotels to hire them for parties and other social occasions. Among such musicians were Leon Abby and Crickett Smith, who led bands in India and worked at the Taj Mahal Hotel in Bombay. Musicians from Goa also led groups and performed with jazz-orientated dance bands in India, while players from South Asia such as the clarinettist Reuben Solomon and the guitarists Cedric West and Pushkar Bahadur (George Banks) were making recordings in Calcutta. The African-American pianist Teddy Weatherford played at the Taj Mahal Hotel during the 1930s. Later he went to Calcutta, where he led dance ensembles from 1942 to 1944.

During the mid-1940s live big-band jazz declined in popularity in India for several reasons, including the prohibition movement following India's independence in August 1947 and the ensuing backlash against Western culture. The decline in the popularity throughout the world of big-band jazz in general also contributed to this phenomenon. By this time it had become increasingly difficult to earn a living playing jazz in India. By the late 1940s and early 1950s the hub of the local Indian jazz scene was the Bombay Swing Club, which was patronized largely by Anglo-Indian fans and featured primarily Anglo-Indian players until the mid-1950s, when many musicians decided to move to England. This left a void in the Indian jazz scene. One attempt to fill the gap began in the early 1950s, when jazz impresario Niranjan Jhaveri founded and edited Blue Rhythm, regarded as the first Indian jazz periodical, and established the Blue Rhythm jazz society, which sponsored performances by American jazz musicians in India.

As employment opportunities for jazz musicians decreased, some players were able to find employment in the Bombay film music industry. In the 1950s studio pianist Kersey Lord introduced film music composers such as Laxmikant Pyarelal and Rahul Dev Burman to jazz, which they incorporated in their scores into the next decade. The 1950s also marked the beginning of the career of Goan saxophonist Braz Gonsalves, one of the first Indians to play modern jazz and to master rāga-based improvisation in jazz. Gonsalves would go on to become one of the best-known Indian jazz musicians on the international scene.

The US State Department sponsored concert tours in cities such as Bombay, Madras and Bangalore; these served as the main source of live jazz in India during the 1950s and 60s. In the early 1960s in Bombay the Duke Ellington Orchestra gave a series of concerts that stimulated interest in jazz there. Ellington's concerts spawned jam sessions featuring local players. This contributed to a new-found appreciation of traditional jazz and swing among local fans into the early 1970s. Sponsored by the US Information Center in conjunction with local musical organizations and colleges and Bombay’s American Center, numerous jazz appreciation classes and performance workshops were held in Bombay in the 1970s and 80s. In 1975 Niranjan Jhaveri founded Jazz India, a non-profit organization for the promotion of jazz. In 1978 that organization sponsored the first Jazz Yatra (‘pilgrimage’), India's biennial jazz festival, regarded as one of the most international jazz festivals in the world.

Throughout this period Niranjan Jhaveri, in consultation with Braz Gonsalves, the pianist/arranger Louis Banks, the vocalist Rama Mani and others, promoted Jhaveri's concept of Indo-Jazz, a musical mélange that fuses the elements and instruments of modern jazz with those of Hindustani and Karnatak music.

India, Subcontinent of, §VIII: Film and popular musics

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

B. Gargi: Folk Theater in India (Seattle, 1966)

D. Mukhopadhyay, ed.: Lesser Known Forms of Performing Arts in India (New Delhi, 1974)

L. Tewari: Folk Music of India: Uttar Pradesh (diss., Wesleyan U., 1974)

B. Chandavarkar: ‘The Great Film Song Controversy’, Cinema Vision India, i/4 (1980), 66–75

Hamraz [Har Mandir Singh] comp.: Hindi film gīt kosh [Encyclopedia of Hindi film songs] (Kanpur, 1980–91)

S.T. Baskaran: The Message Bearers: the Nationalist Politics and the Entertainment Media in South India 1880–1945 (Chennai, 1981)

P. Gronow: ‘Record Industry Comes to Orient’, EthM, xxxv (1981), 251–84

J.E. Berendt: Nada Brahma: die Welt ist Klang (Frankfurt, 1983, 2/1987/R; Eng. trans., 1987/R)

A. Ranade: ‘Indian Film Music: Changing Compulsions’, On Music and Musicians of Hindoostan (New Delhi, 1984), 68–78

J. Marre and H. Charlton: ‘There'll Always Be Stars in the Sky: the Indian Film Music Phenomenon’, Beats of the Heart: Popular Music of the World(New York, 1985), 137–54

B. Chandavarkar: ‘Growth of the Film Song: the Tradition of Music in Indian Cinema’, Cinema in India, i/3 (1987),16–20

A. Arnold: ‘Popular Film Song in India: a Case of Mass-Market Musical Eclecticism’, Popular Music, vii/2 (1988), 177–88

S. Bose: ‘From Dambur Bahadur to Louis Banks: a Jazz Wizard's Success Story’, Filmfare, xxxvii/2 (1988), 44–9

G. Farrell: ‘Reflecting Surfances: the Use of Elements from Indian Music in Popular Music in Jass’, Popular Music, vii/2 (1988), 189–205

E.O. Henry: Chant the Names of God: Musical Culture in Bhojpuri-Speaking India (San Diego, 1988)

G.N. Joshi: ‘A Concise History of the Phonograph Industry in India’, Popular Music, vii/2 (1988), 147–56

P. Manuel: ‘Popular Music in India: 1901–1986’, Popular Music, vii/2 (1988), 157–76

P. Manuel: Popular Musics of the Non-Western World: an Introductory Survey (New York, 1988)

P. Oliver: ‘Introduction: Aspects of the South Asia/Western Cross-Over’, Popular Music, vi (1988), 119–22

W.J. Pinckney: ‘Jazz in India: Perspectives on Historical Development and Musical Acculturation’, AsM, xxi/1 (1989–90), 35–77

G. Booth: ‘Brass Bands: Tradition, Change and the Mass Media in Indian Wedding Music’, EthM, xxxiv (1990), 245–62

A. Arnold: Hindi Filmi Gīt: on the History of Commercial Indian Popular Music (diss., U. of Illinois, 1991)

G. Booth: ‘Disco Laggī: Modern Repertoire and Traditional Performance Practice in North Indian Popular Music’, AsM, xxiii/1 (1991), 61–83

C. Das Gupta: ‘Why the Films Sing’, The Painted Face: Studies in India's Popular Cinema (New Delhi, 1991), 59–69

A. Arnold: ‘Aspects of Production and Consumption in the Hindi Film Song Industry’, AsM, xxiv/1 (1992), 122–36

S. Marcus: ‘Recycling Indian Film-Songs: Popular Music as a Source of Melodies for North Indian Folk Musicians’, AsM, xxiv/1 (1992), 101–10

G. Farrell: ‘The Early Days of the Gramophone Industry in India: Historical, Social and Musical Perspectives’, British Journal of Ethnomusicology, ii (1993), 31–53

P. Manuel: Cassette Culture: Popular Music and Technology in North India (Chicago, 1993)

B. Bharatan: Lata Mangeshkar: a Biography (New Delhi, 1995)

D. Raheja and J. Kothari: The Hundred Luminaries of Hindi Cinema (Mumbai, 1996)

recordings

Shakti with John McLaughlin, rec. 5 July 1975, Columbia, PC 34162 (1976)

Jazz and Hot Dance in India: 1926–1944, Harlequin, HQ 2013 (1985)

There'll Always Be Stars in the Sky: the Indian Film Music Phenomenon, videotape, dir. J. Marre, Shanachie 1209 (1992)

The Golden Collection: Duets of Asha Bhosle and Kishore Kumar, EMI-India CDF 131059–60 (1996)

The Golden Collection: Bhajans from Films, EMI-India CDF 13107–80 (1997)

The Golden Collection: Duets of Lata Mangeshkar and Mukesh, EMI-India CDF 131109–10 (1997)

The Golden Collection: Ghazals from Films, EMI-India CDF 131083–84 (1997)

The Golden Collection: the Great Composers, EMI-India CDF 131073–74 (1997)

Legends: Lata Mangeshkar ‘The Nightingale’, EMI-India CDF 132324–28 (1997) [digitally remastered songs from 1949 to 1997]

Legends: Mohammad Rafi ‘The Virtuoso’, EMI-India CDF 132336–40 (1997)

Kunan Saigal: The Immortal, Inreco-Pyramid IP-6041–43 (1997) [digitally remastered songs of the 1930s and 40s]

There are seven Indian dances regarded as ‘classical’: bharata-nātyam, kathak, kathakali, kūcipūdi, manipuri, mohiniāttam and odissi. The patronage of dance has been maintained in India's fast-expanding urban centres, and knowledge of a classical dance style has become an important social accomplishment for young, middle-class women. In addition to the classical styles, India has a vast number of local traditions. The set pieces of the huge South Asian film industry draw on many dance traditions. New influences, in the form of popular styles of dance music from expatriate communities abroad, feed back into the South Asian popular music scene.

IX. Dance

1. Classical dance styles.

2. Local traditions.

3. 20th-century trends.

India, Subcontinent of, §IX, 1: Dance, Classical dance styles.

1. Classical dance styles.

Dances are deemed ‘classical’, or not, by the central Sangeet Natak Akademi in Delhi, a governmental organization. Achieving the status of a classical art confers benefits, not only in the sense of ‘respectability’ but also in terms of eligibility for funding in the form of grants and the patronage of an urban, middle-class audience. The choice of what is and what is not ‘classical’ is to a certain degree arbitrary, as many dance traditions can claim equal degrees of complexity, history and textual support, all of which might be considered part of a ‘classical’ canon. The choice of the seven dances discussed below can be seen as an aspect of the central government's project of national integration – ‘unity through diversity’ – in light of the dances' geographic and stylistic spread (Table 22). A local tradition which has received support and funding from the Sangeet Natak Akademi, the chau dance of parts of Orissa, West Bengal and Bihar, is noted by von Lamsweerde as being ‘often included in the classical dance-forms of India’ (1969, p.23).

(i) Theory and sources.

(i) Theory and sources.

The earliest references to dance in South Asian literature are found in the Rgveda (c1500–1000 bce): Usās (‘dawn’) is personified as a dancer, and Indra, the most powerful god of the vedic pantheon, is often called the ‘leader of dancers’. His associates, the Āśvin (twin gods who ride in front of Usās) and Marut (‘wind’) are also dancers. Gamblers and dancers are described as meeting in an assembly called samana. Descriptions include solo, duet and group dances. The language of mime, with special reference to the symbolic gestures of the hands, distinctive in South Asian classical dance, has its origins in the elaborate rituals described in the Krsna yajur-veda and the Atharva-veda. Although dance is associated with many ceremonial rituals in the Vedas, there is no evidence in this early literature of temple dancing, which is closely associated with Indian dance of later times.

References can also be found to dance in the Rāmāyana and Mahābhārata, the dramatic and poetic Nātaka and Kāvya (11th century bce to 8th century ce) and the 18 Purāna s. In the Harivamśa-purāna (a supplement to the Mahābhārata) a graphic description is given of Krsna and the gopī s dancing. In the Rāmāyana, Rāma is taught dance as part of his general education, and in the Mahābhārata, Arjuna is accomplished enough to play the part of a professional (female) dancer while in exile. In these texts dance is the vocation of the ganikā (professional musicians and dancers), the precursors of the court dancers. The god Śiva dances to preserve the cosmos and is often portrayed in his characteristic pose as Nātarāja (‘king of the dance’).

The Nātyaśāstra of Bharata (pre-3rd century ce) describes in some depth gestures for different parts of the body: for instance, 67 hastā (hand gestures) and 32 cāri (movements of the lower limbs). A combination of these with movements of the other parts of the body, especially the torso, is called a karana, of which 108 are mentioned. The first exclusive treatise on dance as distinct from both theatre and music is the Abhinaya-darpana, attributed to Nandikeśvara and written between the 5th and 10th centuries. Particular emphasis is placed on postures and movements of the hands and feet. Nātya (the dramatic element) and nrtya (sentiment and mood) are defined, and abhinaya (dramatic expression) is described.

Dance features prominently in classical Sanskrit drama, which is an amalgam of spoken word and mime. The choreography follows elaborate conventions and is based on spatial divisions of the stage, the use of musical modes, and mime that uses stylized movement. The tradition continued in the medieval period after the 10th century. Drama gave rise to the musical play, known as Sangīt-nātaka, which has a rich repertory stretching from the 12th to the 19th century. In earlier compositions the actor would speak, sing and enact the lines; at a later stage, speech and enactment were omitted, and the part was only sung. Finally the actor became the musician who sang the lines, providing an accompaniment for the dancer who interpreted the words through mime and dance. It is from these plays that many elements of the contemporary classical dance forms evolved.

The Sangīta-ratnākara (13th century) devotes the whole of its last chapter to dance, and between the 13th and 19th centuries texts on the dances of particular areas were written with theoreticians codifying regional variations. These important sources include the Nrtta-ratnāvali of Jayasena (1253) from Andhra Pradesh; the Sangītopanisat-sāroddhāra of Sudhākalaśa (1350) from Gujarat, the Nrtya-ratnākośa by Kumbhakarna (1443–68) from Rajasthan; the Sangīta-dāmodara of Raghunātha and the Abhinaya-candrikā from Orissa (16th–17th century); the Hasta-muktāvalī from Assam (1650); the Sangīta-mālikā of Muhammad Shāh (17th century) from Uttar Pradesh; the Bālarāma-bharatam of Bālarām Varma from Kerala (18th century); and the Sangita-sārāmrta by Tulajā-rāja of Thanjavur (18th century). (For differing views on authorship and dating see §§I–III, Bibliography, above.)

In South Asian classical dance the main parts of the body, known as anga, are identified as the head, torso, and upper and lower limbs. The upānga (the minor parts) are the facial features, ranging from the eyebrow to the chin. Little emphasis is placed on the muscular system; more is focussed on the joints and the bone structure. The poses that the dancer adopts follow the rules used in sculpture, where the vertical and horizontal axes (sūtra) and the deflection of the body (bhanga) are of fundamental importance. Compound movements give rise to two distinct aspects of classical dance. The first, known as nrtta, is an abstract pattern of movement of the limbs with musical accompaniment. It does not set out to express mood or sentiment, and therefore no facial expression is used. In the second, nrtya, mood and sentiment are conveyed by the use of facial expressions and appropriate gestures.

Other important classifications used are tāndava and lāsya. Tāndava is used to describe all dance that expresses actions and feelings with strength and vigour. There are seven types of tāndava, said to have been danced by Śiva. Lāsya is that element of the dance that is graceful and delicate and expresses emotion on a gentle level. Krsna's dance with the gopī (milkmaids) is in lāsya. In dance, abhinaya is the means by which the mood and sentiment of nrtya is conveyed to the audience; it can be subdivided into four categories (Table 23).

India, Subcontinent of, §IX, 1: Dance, Classical dance styles.

(ii) Bharata-nātyam.

Originating in the temple dances of the Tamil devadāsī s, bharata-nātyam (fig.20) has become the most widespread and popular Indian classical dance, not only within South Asia but also internationally. Temple dancing was formally outlawed in the ‘Madras Prevention of Dedication of Devadasis Act’ by the then State of Madras in 1947. This followed a long campaign that had identified the dancers with prostitutes and courtesans. Gaston (1996) reports that in addition to the ritual and sacred dance of the temples, there was a parallel secular dance of the courts known as sadir or dāsiāttam, and it is from this that bharata-nātyam largely derives.

At the same time as the Indian middle and upper classes, mainly Brahmans, were agitating to have the dance banned from the temples, they were also keen on seeing bharata-nātyam (as the dance became known, to distinguish it from that of the devadāsīs) established as a ‘pure’ art form. Instrumental in this was the Brahman dancer and teacher Rukmini Devi, at whose school, Kalakshetra (established 1936), the ‘improved’ dance was taught to the girls of respectable Madrasi families. One of the last dancers to have undergone devadāsī training and initiation was Thanjavur Balasaraswati, who, on moving to the concert stage, continued to perform in the traditional devadāsī style. While men of the Icai Vēlālar community had always been the teachers of and musicians for the devadāsīs, it was not until the 1930s that non-hereditary male dancers took up bharata-nātyam. The dancing of female roles by male dancers was, and to a certain extent still is, controversial.

Teaching was traditionally a hereditary profession, carried out by the males of a dancer's family for whom the ability to dance themselves was not a prerequisite. With the emergence of bharata-nātyam as a concert art many non-hereditary dancers, both male and female, have begun to take on students. In addition, dance academies, modelled on Kalakshetra, have been set up in large towns and cities. Many of the female students passing through the academies or being trained by a private teacher are not learning to dance with the aim of becoming professionals, but as a social accomplishment. The teacher and student work towards his or her arankerram, the dancer's first full public performance, which is considered to complete the student’s training. A successful arankerram is personally important for the student and also, in terms of reputation, for the teacher.

A performance of bharata-nātyam is accompanied by the cinna melam ensemble (see §III, 6(v) above) led by the nattuvanār. The nattuvanār, a male hereditary profession like that of the teacher, keeps time with tālam (cymbals) and calls out the dance patterns, or jāti. The sound of the dancer's ankle bells, keccai (see Ghantā), is represented by the syllables of a jāti called śolkattu; jāti played on the mrdangam are called śollu.

Ideally, a bharata-nātyam programme consists of seven items – alārippu, jātisvaram, śabda, varnam, padam, tillānā and a concluding śloka – even if this pattern is now not often followed in full. The alārippu is an invocation to the deity; it is a short dance during which some of the basic positions of bharata-nātyam are used. The most important of these is known as ardhamandali (fig.21). The jātisvaram, consisting again of nrtta, emphasizes rhythm through the interaction between the dancer and drummer, accompanied by vocal passages of svara and śolkattu. Before the jāti begins, the dancer beats out the rhythm with his or her feet. The śabda introduces nrtya for the first time. The śabda begins with a short series of adavu (movements of the feet), known as a tīrmāna, before interpreting the song. The varnam is the most complex piece in performance, alternating between nrtta and nrtya. The melody is sung using both the text and svara s. Padam deal with love; in order to explore fully the abhinaya of the nāyikā (the beloved) yearning for the nāyaka (the lover), the dance movements are slow in comparison to the varnam. In the much faster tillānā the dancer combines movements of the waist and shoulders, fingers, hands, feet, neck and eyes. The performance concludes with the recitation of a śloka in a rāga; there is no rhythmic or melodic accompaniment, and abhinaya is used to express the text.

India, Subcontinent of, §IX, 1: Dance, Classical dance styles.

(iii) Kathak.

Historical sources for kathak dance are mainly found in Hindi and Braj-bhāsā literature and schools of miniature painting dating from the 15th–18th centuries. Poetry of the 16th–18th centuries shows that a dance-style flourished from the 14th century to the 18th in Gujarat, Rajasthan, Uttar Pradesh and Delhi. Treatises such as the Nātya-ratnākośa (15th century), Nartananirnaya (16th century) and the Sangīta-mālikā (17th century) show that, as elsewhere, the style derived theoretical sanction from written sources. The history of kathak is also closely connected with the growth of Hindustani music, particularly Khayāl, thumrī and dādrā (see §IV, 1 above). The rāsalīlā and the rāmalīlā of the areas around Mathura, Ayodhya and Varanasi (see §2(i)(b) below) have strong affinities with kathak, as do many other traditional forms in the north.

In the movement technique of kathak there are no deflections and no sharp bending of the knees; in the basic stance the dancer stands straight, holding one hand at a higher level than the head and the other extended at shoulder level. Nrtta is all-important: complex rhythmic patterns are created through an intricate system of footwork, involving the use of flat feet and the control of 100 or more pellet bells (ghungrū) attached to the dancer's ankles. Nrtta is also built in sequences combining different units of movement. The cadences are known as tūkrā, torā and paran, which indicate the dance syllables used and the accompanying rhythmic instrument. In the sequence termed thāt, gliding movements of the head, eyebrows and wrists are introduced. The āmad (entry) is a series of slow movements; the salāmī (salutation) is based on the Muslim greeting of raising the hand to the face. Characteristic of kathak are the permutations and combinations of rhythmic passages interspersed with and culminating in pirouettes (cakkar), arranged in multiples of three (fig.22). Loud recitation of the dance syllables (bol) is common: the dancer often pauses to recite these to a specific tāla, after which they are interpreted in the torā, turkrā and paran sections.

The nrtta portion of kathak is performed to a repeating melodic line known as the nagmā. Two instrumentalists, one of which is either a pakhāvaj or tablā player, and a singer usually provide the accompaniment. The singer is traditionally accompanied by a sārangī player, now often replaced by a harmonium. Tālas of 16 (Tintāl), 10 (Jhaptāl) and 14 (Dhamār) beats provide the foundation for the dance. The nrtya section follows the thāt with elements called gata, based on stories from mythology, particularly those featuring Krsna. In other nrtya elements the texts of genres such as dhrupad, kīrtan, hori, dādrā and ghazal are portrayed in dance, with a close synchronization between word and gesture.

Like some other dance-styles of north India, kathak was exclusively performed by women known variously as tawāif, nautch dancers etc. (see Courtesan), and had for a long time been associated with brothels. Kathak was revived as a concert dance by performers in Lucknow, assisted by the patronage of some princely states, such as Rampur. The three main styles are from Jaipur, Lucknow and Varanasi. Since the 1950s it has gained remarkable popularity and is performed by both professional and non-professional artists.

India, Subcontinent of, §IX, 1: Dance, Classical dance styles.

(iv) Kathakali.

This is a dance-drama (see also §2(i) below) of Kerala, traditionally performed only by male dancers. Its origins lie in a range of ritual and traditional dances and traditional dance-dramas, including local kūttu s (theatres) and the Sanskrit kūtiyāttam dance-drama. Kathakali emerged in the 18th century out of the dance-dramas krsnāttam (which closely follows the Gīta-govinda in narrating the life of Krsna and which can be traced back to the 15th century) and rāmānāttam (on the life of Rāmā and traceable to the 17th century). Like many other Keralan traditions, kathakali uses elaborately stylized make-up with a set pattern of colour symbolism. Characters are thought of as existing on a continuum from the most refined to the most depraved. Pacca (‘green’) characters have green faces offset by a white border (cutti), and include the greatest heroes, such as Rāmā. They are followed by ‘shining’ characters (minukku), distinguished by yellow-orange make-up, who are heroines or other characters of great spirituality. Below these two categories are the katti (‘knife’) characters, who are evil yet have noble blood; their make-up is very similar to that of the pacca characters, but with a red moustache. Following these are three type characters who are identified by the colour of their beards: vella tāti (white beard) are divine characters such as Hanūmān; cukanna tāti (‘red beard’) characters are vicious and evil; and karutta tāti (‘black beard’) characters are evil and scheming. Below them are all the black-faced characters (kari), who are female demons.

Traditionally performances take place in temple courtyards and may last many hours. Today, however, some troupes perform much shortened versions, or extracts, on the stage. Kathakali derives its textual sanction from later texts than those of bharata-nātyam, particularly the Bālarāma-bharatam and the Hāstalaksanam-dīpika of the 18th century. The literature of kathakali is extensive: many renowned writers in Malayalam have written plays for kathakali performances.

An important part of the kathakali dancer's training is massage, which helps agility. Nrtta and nrtya are used, as is the spoken word. The mandala sthāna (bent-knee position) occurs frequently, and a characteristic of this dance-style is the resting of weight on the side of the foot. There are 24 basic hastā, or hand positions. Kalāsama are passages or phrases of abstract movement set to a particular tāla. The musical accompaniment is provided by two singers, a maddalam (tuned barrel drum), centa (cylindrical drum), cennala (gong) and ilatālam (flat cymbals).

The performance starts with the kelikottu (drumming) and is followed by the singing of devotional songs behind the terissila (curtain). After this, todaiyam (a devotional dance) is performed, in which the dancers symbolize śakti (‘power’, associated with the goddess) and māyā (‘illusion’). The manjutara that follows is accompanied by songs from the Gīta-govinda, after which there is a drum interlude. In the next item, the purappad, the hero and his partner appear. Love scenes may be enacted during any part of the drama, although these occur most often at the beginning. The most popular themes are from the Mahābhārata, Rāmāyana (fig.23) and the Purānas.

India, Subcontinent of, §IX, 1: Dance, Classical dance styles.

(v) Kūcipūdi.

This dance-drama is named after the village in the Krishna-Godavari delta, Andhra Pradesh, where it is traditionally performed. It is sometimes known as bhāma-kalāpam (after Bhāma, a consort of Krsna). A related style is performed in the village of Melattur, Thanjavur District, Tamil Nadu. A Telugu Brahman, Sidhyendra (c1350–1450), is credited with founding the kūcipūdi style. The Brahman men of the village, sole dancers of the kūcipūdi style, were also noted as performers of the disguise-theatre pagati vēśam (which dancers from the village continued to perform until the 1930s). In 1675 the Nawab of Golconda granted the village and the surrounding lands to the families of the dancers with the stipulation that the tradition be carried on.

The main themes of the dance-drama are from the Parijatapaharana, attributed to Sidhyendra, and the Gollakalapam, credited to Rāmayya, a dancer and poet of the late 19th century. The Pārijātāpaharara of the kūcipūdi drama concentrates on the emotion of Bhāma, who is separated from and eventually reunited with Krsna. The Gollakalāpam depicts the philosophical conversations of a milkmaid, Gollabhāma, with a Brahman. The use of Telugu as the language of the texts (as opposed to the Sanskrit used in some other traditions) preserved the popularity of the dramas, making them accessible to local audiences. The dancers also sing the texts of the drama. They are accompanied by a group of three to four musicians: the sūtradhāra recites the dance syllables and keeps time on tālalu (cymbals), in a similar fashion to the nattuvanār; the other musicians are a mrdangam player, a flautist or clarinettist and sometimes a violinist. The music is from the Karnatak tradition; occasionally the kriti s of Tyāgarāja are used.

A performance of kūcipūdi usually starts about 9 p.m. and lasts until dawn. It takes place in the courtyard of the Bālatripurasuntarī temple in the village. The drama starts without warning when Hysagadu, the fool, jumps on the stage. The musicians then take their place on the side of the stage and play a short piece (jati) on the mrdangam and tālalu, followed by a prayer to the goddess. A śloka follows, in which the significance of the dance-drama is explained. An introductory dance called dāru is performed by the important characters; in this the dancer performs the first movements, revealing only his head and feet; a sheet (which is later removed) obscures the rest of his body. Dārus occur throughout the drama in different forms and are an important part of the style. Pagati vēśamu (comic interludes, from the disguise theatre) are inserted after the longer movements and form part of the dance-drama.

The role of Bhāma is one of the most challenging in the kūcipūdi repertory. One of the decorations worn by the dancer is Bhāma's jada, or artificial hair. Traditionally the jada would be thrown on to the stage at the beginning of the performance as a challenge to anyone in the audience who might doubt the abilities of the dancers. Although all the parts in the drama are traditionally played by Brahman men, since Independence a growing number of women have been trained as kūcipūdi dancers. The roles played by female dancers have been mainly solo dances. These have been taken up by bharata-nātyam dancers, who often perform short extracts from kūcipūdi works. It is these solo items that are most often performed today with the full-length dramas rarely seen outside of the traditional village.

India, Subcontinent of, §IX, 1: Dance, Classical dance styles.

(vi) Manipuri.

Manipuri dance is performed by the Hindus living in the main valley of the north-eastern state of Manipur. They are devout Vaisnaivites, and the content of the dance is drawn from the Harivamśa and a sizable body of medieval bhakti literature, including the Gīta-govinda of Jayadeva. The repertory of classical manipuri consists of five principal group dances known as rāsa. Unlike bharata-nātyam, odissi and the solo forms of kūcipūdi, manipuri makes use of solo, couple and group dance forms. It is performed by both sexes. The five principal rāsa dances are performed both as stage dances and as rituals connected with the full moon; the play of Krsna as a cowherd is also included among these. The rāsa is preceded by drumming and dance items called nāta sankīrtana.

The performance begins with an invocation played as a solo on the pung (barrel drum; fig.24). This is followed by a pung sequence in which several players participate. After the introduction the main sankīrtana begins with an invocatory sung verse and a series of songs called padāvali. In the rāsa itself nrtta and nrtya alternate. The nrtta is accompanied by the pung and the pena (a small bowed chordophone made from a coconut shell with a bamboo neck); the nrtya is performed to a line of poetry set to highly ecstatic high pitched devotional music, often sung by women.

Two dance sequences are important in the technique of manipuri: the first, known as the pareng, is similar to the adavu of bharata-nātyam; the second, the colam, are different types of walk similar to the cāli of odissi (see below). The pareng is further divided into five varieties, each using a different tāla. The pareng is lyrical and built on an intricate series of movements. In contrast, the colam is vigorous and energetic, often performed by male dancers who also play the pung or cymbals.

The characteristic movements of manipuri are circular; arches and figures-of-eight are important. Some varieties of manipuri, performed by men, use the ardhamandali position, jumps, spiral movements and sitting positions. Movements of the wrists and hands are important; the hands gradually fold and unfold. Of the foot movements, toe contacts are the most significant; the heel is hardly ever emphasized. The dancer's training begins with the movements of hands and fingers, waist exercises and methods of walking (colam), followed by instruction in the technique of spinning. These are built into the long sequences of the pareng.

The lai haroba and the rāsalīlā are two important varieties of manipuri. In the lai haroba, performed in the month of Caitra (March–April), the most important roles are performed by a maiba and a maibi (male and female temple dancers). The themes are drawn from myths in the local language, Meitei, including one that nine gods and seven goddesses carried the earth down from heaven. The rāsalīlā are concerned with the exploits of Krsna, Rādhā and the gopī s (see also §2(i)(b) below). In Manipur there are seven types of rāsalīlā: vasant (‘spring’) rāsa; kuñja (‘arbour’) rāsa, performed at the time of the harvest moon in November; mahā (‘great’) rāsa, performed during the full moon in December; nitya (‘everyday’) rāsa; diba (‘daytime’) rāsa; natna rāsa (of Krsna and eight gopī s); and gosta gopī cyam rāsa, performed in April.

India, Subcontinent of, §IX, 1: Dance, Classical dance styles.

(vii) Mohiniāttam.

These Keralan dance-dramas are traditionally performed only by women. Mohiniāttam seems to have evolved as a distinct form in the 18th and 19th centuries, although the first mention of a dance of this name is found in the 16th-century Vyavaharamala, by Malamangalam Nārāyanan Nambūdiri. By the beginning of the 20th century the dance was falling into disuse, having already been revived earlier through the efforts of the ruler of Travancore, Svatītirunal (1813–46). The major impetus for the dance’s current popularity came from the founding of the Kerala Kalamandalam in 1927 by the poet Vallathol Narayana Menon. The first dancer of mohiniāttam to study at the centre was Thankamani in 1932; since then many other students have been trained there.

The dance is an expression of devotion to the goddess Mohinī (the form of Visnu as a seductress). Nrtta predominates in mohiniāttam, although abhinaya is also used, and the dance follows a similar pattern to that of a bharata-nātyam performance: invocation, jātisvaram, varnam, padam and tillāna. There are four basic steps: taganam, jaganam, dhaganam and sammisram (known collectively as adavu). Sudden gestures are avoided, and importance is not placed on moving the feet to accentuate the tāla. Previously the dance was accompanied by Karnatak music played on the toppi maddalam (barrel drum) and vīnā; the present-day dance has an accompaniment consisting of violin, mrdangam and a singer. The dancer may also sing. The texts to the devotional songs are in Manipravālam, a heavily Sanskrit-influenced version of Malayalam.

India, Subcontinent of, §IX, 1: Dance, Classical dance styles.

(viii) Odissi.

The history of this Orissan dance can, in part, be traced through temple sculpture. 12th-century inscriptions provide information on the dance rituals depicted in the temples of Jagannāth at Puri, Bhubaneswar and Konarak. Textual support comes from manuals written in Orissa between the 16th and 18th centuries, particularly the Abhinaya-candrikā and the Nātya-manoramā. The modern dance is based, like bharata-nātyam, on the temple dances of the māhārī (devadāsīs). The māhārīs were auspicious women who were married to the deity of the temple, Jagannāth. Although they were held to be auspicious (and the singers of ‘auspicious songs’, mangala gīta (Marglin, 1985, p.18)), the māhārīs were also courtesans (courtesans attached to the court were known as dei), making them ritually impure.

The outlawing of devadāsī inductions in Tamil Nadu had a widespread impact; the passing over of the Orissan temples to the control of the state government and the effect of the ‘anti-nautch ’ campaign led to a severe decline in the activities of the temple dancers. In the 1950s a series of seminars was arranged with the aim of reviving the dance as a ‘classical’ concert form. At these seminars much emphasis was placed on sculpture as a primary source for the dance's reconstruction, and the name odissi was decided on (until then the dancers had referred to it as nāca, ‘dance’). Notably absent from the discussions were the remaining māhārīs. However, male dancers and teachers were included; young men aged up to 18 did become dancers (known as gotipua), a tradition said to have started in the 16th century; after this age they became the teachers and musicians for the māhārī s.

The basic posture of odissi is the ardhamandali position. The bhangi posture (known in sculpture as tribhanga) has a triple bend (fig.25). In the characteristic pose known as chowk, the thighs and feet are turned out and the knees bent. From the bhangi and chowk positions other patterns emerge. Cadences of movement, arasā, are built on tālas with between four and nine beats. Also characteristic of odissi are the different types of walk known as cāri or cāli (‘walking’). The nrtta sequences are followed by passages in nrtya; many of these are inspired by Sanskrit poetry, particularly the Gīta-govinda. The recital ends with items in nrtya: either the tarjam, which ends in a very fast tempo, or the mokhya. Training for odissi begins with eight body positions (beli), each of which has many varieties. Sitting positions are known as baitha; sthanka are standing positions. Rising and jumping movements are known as utha; cāli are also practised. Bhāsa is used to describe the bending of the body from left to right; bhaumri are fast whirls, and bhura are quick movements. Movements towards the back of the stage culminating in short dance sequences are called pali. The instruments used to accompany the dances are the mardala (barrel drum), gini (cymbals) and flute; a violin or vīnā may also be used, and a singer is usually part of the ensemble.

Local dance traditions vary widely across South Asia. They include traditional dance-dramas, such as the yaksagāna of Karnataka, and many dances related to calendrical festivals and life-cycle rituals. Ādivāsī traditions are similarly widespread and diverse.

2. Local traditions.

(i) Dance-dramas.

(ii) Calendrical, life-cycle and festival dances.

(iii) Dances of trance and ritual.

(iv) Ādivāsī traditions.

India, Subcontinent of, §IX, 2: Dance, Local traditions.

(i) Dance-dramas.

Many dance-dramas (the depiction of a story, often religious and with a ritual element, through music, dance and spoken and sung texts) are performed throughout South Asia apart from the ‘classical’ kūcipūdi, kathakali and mohiniāttam dances described above. In addition to the dramas described below, others include the kuravañci, prevalent in many parts of south India, particularly in Tamil Nadu, and performed by women (see Peterson, 1998); the Sanskrit kūtiyāttam of Kerala (Richmond, 1990); and the bhāgavata-mēla of Tamil Nadu.

(a) Chau.

Traditionally danced at the spring festival of Caitra Parva, chau is found in adjacent areas of Orissa, Bihar and West Bengal. There are four forms of the dance, all danced only by men of the farmer caste and named after the places in which they are predominantly found: māyurbhanj chau, and the jhargram chau, puruliā chau and serāikela chau (which are masked dances). It is thought that māyurbhanj chau was masked until the end of the 19th century. The themes, often martial, are taken from the Hindu epics, particularly those stories featuring Krsna. It has been greatly influenced by the dances of the surrounding Santāl people and other local dances; the māyurbhañj chau incorporates elements of the Orissan paik sword and shield dances. The different dances vary in their execution. The māyurbhañj chau is predominantly a dance between two competing groups (there is also a solo dance associated with the māyurbhañj style), and the serāikela dance concentrates on small ensembles of dancers; the puruliā chau is the most energetic and, perhaps, closest to its Ādivāsī origins. Vocal music is rare as an accompaniment. The instruments that accompany the dance include the dhamsā (a large drum played with sticks); the dhol; cadcadi (kettledrums played with sticks); a mahurī (a short oboe); and a flute. Other instruments occasionally used include a tikārā or a tuila (a single-string fretless plucked stick zither) (see also Madar). A government Chau Dance Centre was set up in 1964 under the dancer and teacher Kedar Nath Sahu. Its aims have been to teach and preserve the form.

(b) Rāsalīlā.

This religious drama, which dates back to the 15th century, takes place in a region historically known as Braj, associated with the god Krsna and his adventures with the gopīs (‘milkmaids’), which lies around the towns of Mathura and Vrindavan in present-day Uttar Pradesh. The area is littered with holy pilgrimage sites connected with exploits of the god. The rās is the dance performed by Krsna and the gopīs, and the rāsalīlā seeks to re-enact this. Following this a play is presented of one of Krsna's līlās (lit. ‘sports, play’), stories from his youth.

Performances take place during the monsoon at the time of the greatest number of pilgrims to the region: the fortnight leading up to Krsna's birthday, Janmāshtamī, in the month of Bhādom (August–September). Another important time of pilgrimage is Holī. Performances occur in private homes, at pilgrims' hostels and at the sites on the banjātrā, the pilgrimage trail around Braj. The round dancing platform used for the performances is known as a rāsmandal. The main characters, Rādhā and Krsna, are played by boys aged around 11–12, known as svarūps, who must give up the role at the onset of puberty. For the duration of the performance the young actors become the embodiments of the characters, and thus of the divine, for the audience.

The troupe, rāsmandalī, is headed by the svāmī or rāsdhārī who trains the performers. There are four actors to play the gopīs (also young boys) and an accompanying ensemble known as the sangīt samāj, which plays a mixture of Hindustani genres and popular styles. This consists of sārangī, a pair of tablā or a pakhāvaj, jhāñjh (cymbals) and a harmonium. The texts of the plays are kept by the svāmī, who may collect them from various sources; Hein (1972, p.154) notes that troupes have a repertory of 30–45 plays.

A performance consists of two contrasting parts, the first (the nitya rās) comprising a set ritual, the second a drama (the līlā). The opening is the mangalācaran during which the svāmī sings a devotional song, followed by the ārati (fire sacrifice). During the gopī-prārthanā and the section that follows, Rādhā, Krsna and the gopī s prepare to dance. The rās dances then follow, including group, circle, duet and solo dances, the percursors of kathak. This is sometimes concluded by a pravacan, a speech by Krsna. The second part then follows: the performance of a līlā, which consists largely of songs and narrative.

(c) Terukkūttu.

The Tamil terukkūttu (teru, ‘street’; kūttu, ‘drama, dance’) are ritual dramas performed in villages by all-male troupes of professional, semi-professional and amateur dancers. The stories are taken from the Mahābhārata and in particular those of Draupadī; an important episode in terukkūttu is Tiraupatai vastirāpaharanam (‘the removal of Draupadī's clothes’). Many of these stories, traditionally passed down on palm-leaf manuscripts, are now commercially printed. Although performances take place throughout the year, Frasca (1990, p.23) reports that the busiest time for professional troupes is between Pankuni and Āti, March and August. The performers fall into four categories: the vātiyār s (‘teachers’), who train the other performers and take on the major roles; those who play periya vēśam s (‘large roles’) but who are not as experienced as a vātiyār; those who play the cinna vēśam s (‘small, lesser roles’); and the younger trainees and understudies.

The dance steps of terukkūttu show a distinct correlation with those of bharata-nātyam. The two basic stances of both forms, samapātnam and arai-manti (ardhamandali), are very close (fig.26). Similar correspondences can be seen for a number of other steps of both traditions (see Frasca, 1990, pp.92–111). A performance of a terukkūttu begins and ends with devotional hymns. The music for the performance is provided by an ensemble known as a melam. This consists of a mukavīnai (short oboe) which plays the melody, tālam (cymbals), a petti (‘box’) drone-harmonium and what Frasca calls a ‘mrdangam-dholak ’ (pp.30–31). This is a composite drum that consists of a mrdangam turned on its end with the higher-pitched skin upwards and a dholak on the player's lap. The dholak has a bamboo strip over the right-hand head, which may serve to imitate the sound of the tavil.

The music of terukkūttu is played in Karnatak rāgas. The most often used are Nāttai, Mukāri, Mōhanam, Nātanāmakriya, Kētārakaula and Tanyāsi. Different rāgas are used for different dramatic purposes, emotions and moods; one of the most important is Nāttai, used for heroic and ferocious characters. The music also uses a system of tālas, with the most common being Āti (eight beats), Rūpaka (six beats), Ata (14 beats) and Cāpu (seven beats). They differ from their Karnatak equivalents by the ways in which they are counted and subdivided.

(d) Yaksagāna.

Yaksagāna dance-dramas (also known as bailāta) are performed in the villages of coastal Karnataka between November and May. There is both a northern (badagatittu) and southern (tenkatittu) style of performance, both with elaborate make-up and costumes. The southern style, performed around Mangalore, is stylistically and musically closer to kathakali. The open-air (sometimes in a tent), night-long performances are supported by local patronage, often that of a landlord or businessman who chooses the story, and are performed to mark the pūjā for a new house, a good harvest etc. A little support has come from the state and central governments via the Sangeet Natak Akademi, and a few kēndra (schools) have been set up in Karnataka. The performers in the travelling groups are all male, and training takes about 10 years.

The stories, prasanga, are written by Kannada poets. Ashton and Christie (1977) report there are more than 100 in print, of which some 45 are performed regularly; an individual group would have a repertory of about 35 plays. Common themes include the battle between the Pāndavas and the Kauravas (most stories climax in a battle, or a battle followed by a marriage) and stories involving Krsna. The ritual literature for the plays is contained in the eclectic Yaksagāna śabhālaksana muttu prasangapīthike. An introductory dance, oddōlaga, similar to the dāru of kūcipūdi, is performed by the major characters. The narrative is punctuated by comic interludes performed by the kōdangi (clowns). The performance concludes with the mangalam dance, in which a dancer playing a female role, strīvēśa, prays to Durgā and Visnu.

The musical accompaniment is provided by an ensemble of maddale (maddalam, barrel drum), cande (centa, cylindrical drum), tāla (cymbals) and a singer, known as the bhāgavata, who is the leader of the ensemble. The bhāgavata is assisted by trainee singers who share the task of singing throughout the night. At important points in the drama the bhāgavata may take over the drumming from the other players. The texts are sung at a high pitch using Karnatak rāgas and tālas, chosen by the bhāgavata; the drone (śruti) is provided by a harmonium with the required key held down by a stick. Of the 40 or so rāgas in use, three are only found in yaksagāna. Six different tālas, and a rhythm in seven called ti ti tai, are used. In addition to the Karnatak repertory a number of traditional songs are used: harake (devotional song), jōgula (lullaby), lāvani (a work-song), śōbhāne (an erotic song sung at weddings), and the Hindustani genre thumrī, here called tumirī.

India, Subcontinent of, §IX, 2: Dance, Local traditions.

(ii) Calendrical, life-cycle and festival dances.

The Hindu year is marked by major religious festivals, many of which also mark changes in the seasonal, agricultural cycle. These festivals are celebrated with music and dance, as are rites-of-passage, particularly weddings. There are a vast number of local dances and festivals (and means of calculating when these occur); the account below gives a broad outline of the Indian year as celebrated in dance.

In north India the first day of the lunar new year, Cait, and the latter part of the preceding month of Phālgun (February–March), are marked by the spring festival of Holī. Holī dances in north India are usually danced by men, particularly in Gujarat and Rajasthan. However, the Holī circle-dance of Haryana and the ghūmar dance of Rajasthan are danced by women during Holī. The latter is also danced at the spring festival of Gangaur. In Gujarat, people of the fisherman caste perform a mixed dance around the Holī fire (hustaśni). Further south in Maharāshtra, the Ādivāsī, Warli and Thakur communities perform the tarapi dance, named after the aerophone (tarpe, a double clarinet) that accompanies it.

The month of Vaiśākh (April–May) is the time of the north Indian harvest, before the onset of the monsoon rains. In the Punjab this is traditionally celebrated with the bhangra and jhummar dances. Danced by men, bhangra is a complex circle dance accompanied by a Dhol, playing in two or three beat cycles, and one or two singers performing boli or dhola traditional songs. Punjabi women may also perform the giddhā group dance at this time (see GEWM, v, ‘Punjab’, J. Middlebrook). In neighbouring Haryana the harvest is celebrated with dances by men or by men and women, accompanied by the daph (frame drum) and the seasonal dhamyal songs played and sung by the dancers. The lively karam dance, which is associated with a fertility ritual and which may include trance, is also performed at harvest time by men in villages in Mirzapur District, Uttar Pradesh.

The harvest and hot season are followed by the monsoon. The recreational monsoon dances of Uttar Pradesh are performed principally by women. A swaying line-dance is accompanied by the singing of kajalī swinging songs. Men also perfrom two versions of kajalī: one is a dance known as dhunmuniyā, the second is a professional song genre. The women’s dance is also performed at the festival of Tīj (held in August) during which women fast for their male relatives; in Rajasthan this is marked by the dancing of the ghūmar circle dance. The Keralan festival of Onam, which comes at the end of the rains, is marked by the women's festival dance kaikkottikkali, during which the dancers perform responsorial tiruvatirakali songs. The Andhran Vināyakacaviti festival also falls at the end of the monsoon. This is marked by processions that include many performers, including low-caste ‘recording dancers, who reproduce the dances of famous film-stars (fig.27).

The pan-Indian goddess festival of Daśahrā and the preceding period of Navarātrī (‘nine nights’) take place during Āśvin (September–October). This is the period during which crops are sown following the rains. Navarātrī is marked in Gujarat by the rās and garba. There are many versions of these popular dances; one of the most widespread is the dandiā rās, a circular stick dance (see Danda). The women's garba dance takes place around a pot (garbo) in which there is a light. As they dance the women sing responsorial songs (see GEWM, v, ‘Gujarat’, G.R. Thomson). The dappu dance of Andhra Pradesh (named after the accompanying round drum) has five different forms; majili dappu is a stamping dance performed at Daśahrā. Other forms of the dance are performed at Holī, for the local goddess Pochamma and at weddings.

Dīvālī (the festival celebrating the return of Rāma to Ayodhya) falls in the month of Kātik (October–November) and is celebrated all over India. In Karnataka it is marked by the costumed karadi vēsa (‘bear dance’). The shield and sword paik dance of Orissa (see also §(a) above) is performed at this time. The dance represents a battle and is characterized by an increasing tempo. It is accompanied by the mahurī (double-reed aerophone) and drums. The widespread south Indian kōlāttam (kōl, ‘small stick’; āttam, ‘play’) pole dance is also traditionally associated with Dīvālī (Tamil Tīpāvali). Ropes or ribbons attached to a central pole are used by the dancers to weave a pattern. It is usually now performed by young girls.

The festivals of Sankrānti, known as Pongal in the south, and Śivarātrī come at the end of the Hindu year (in Pūs, December–January, and Phālgun respectively). In West Bengal young girls gather every evening to perform songs called tusu; these are sung on the day of Makar Sankrānti itself to accompany group dances. Men perform songs known as bhaduriya saila to accompany their circular dances. In some areas the women of Andhra perform a dance around the bhōgimanntalu (hay-fire) to celebrate the harvest.

In addition to these festivals marking the passing of the year are the celebrations held to mark events such as weddings and births. The birth of a child in Bihar is celebrated by the mother and father dancing a bakho nāc (which may also be danced at weddings). Weddings are the focus of many performance traditions in India. In Madhya Pradesh the women’s suā nāc (‘parrot dance’; see Flueckiger, 1996) is performed at harvest but comments on the feelings and situation of a newly married woman. The jhoria dance of Rajasthan is a stick dance performed by men and women, in two separate circles, at weddings, while in the Punjab the women’s giddhā dance is performed at both the bride’s and groom’s houses. The accompaniment for the jhoria is provided by a śahnāī, dhol and nagara (kettledrums); the giddhā is accompanied by singing. The Siddis of Hyderabad, Andhra Pradesh (descendants of black African slaves and labourers of 12th-century Muslim rulers), perform a sword dance, the dhamal, at weddings. It is possible that elements of the dhamal are African in origin.

India, Subcontinent of, §IX, 2: Dance, Local traditions.

(iii) Dances of trance and ritual.

Dance in India is also used in rituals to propitiate deities, often involving trance and often linked to local goddesses. These dances may be used to ward off disease, commonly smallpox, which is associated with a number of village goddesses. Vatsyayan (1976, p.182) notes that the women in Uttar Pradesh would dance around the shrine of Sitala Devi until they fell into a trance, this signifying that the goddess had removed the disease.

In addition to dances performed to propitiate local goddesses are those associated with possession; these have a more regional distribution. Notable among these are the teyyam dance of Kerala and the bhūta dances of Karnataka. Teyāttam is performed by low-caste professionals who, in their elaborate make-up and masks, embody the deity – Śiva or Kāli – that they are portraying. During the performance, accompanied by a singer who recounts a mythological story, the teyyam dancer (who does not portray the narrative) moves ever quicker, entering a trance at the end of each of the dance's three sections. The performance is preceded and followed by rituals at the village shrine. The dancer acts as a medium between the village and the deity, often to cure disease. In the Keralan mutiyettu dance, a precursor of kathakali, the dancers, who enter states of trance under the power of the goddess Bhagavati, represent the story being narrated.

The bhūtha dancers of Karnataka also embody the village deity. In this role the dancer dispenses justice to the audience and mediates in village problems. Like the teyyam dancers of Kerala, the bhūtha performers wear striking costumes and make-up. The dance takes place at the village bhūtha sana, a small-roofed shrine, on moonlit nights. The bhūtha s dance and sing with an instrumental accompaniment that includes drumming, often breaking off to give their messages to the crowd.

India, Subcontinent of, §IX, 2: Dance, Local traditions.

(iv) Ādivāsī traditions.

Ādivāsī dance shares many of the characteristics of other local traditions, being linked to agricultural festivals and the celebration of events such as weddings. However, many of the dance traditions are distinct and vary considerably from group to group, often reflecting the rituals and mythology of the individual peoples. In addition, it should be noted that Ādivāsī and non-Ādivāsī musics have influenced each other greatly and are often indistinguishable.

A ritual dance associated with agriculture and fertility, shared by many Orissan and Bihari Ādivāsī groups, is the karam. This involves the planting of a tree that is dedicated to a deity; the men and women of the village then dance around the tree. The boys and girls of the Oraons of Bihar, who consider this a harvest dance, perform the jadar dance at the spring festival of Sarhul, accompanied by the khel (barrel drum; see Madar).

The Santāl of Chota Nagpur, like many Bihari groups, have mixed and group dances, for example the maghi performed at Sankrānti (a circle-dance, accompanied by madar, flute and jhāl, cymbals), but no paired dances. In dances such as the jhika and don enec the women form a circle on the inside of the men. Another widespread group are the Bhil, many of whom live in Madhya Pradesh. At Holī, young Bhil men and women perform the bhagoriya dance. This takes place around a pole set up in the village; the accompanying druming is led by the village headman. The Bhil of Rajasthan perform many dances that they share with non-Ādivāsī Rajasthani villagers, for example the ghūmar, the jhoria and a form of the garba dance.

The Gonds, who speak a Dravidian language, live across central India. They form many different groups, all with differing traditions. The ritual bison dance, or gaur, of the Maria Gonds of Bastar, Madhya Pradesh, is accompanied by large dhol s, played by male dancers wearing bison-horn headdresses. The women, carrying tirududi (sticks), dance around the men to the polyrhythmic accompaniment. The buffalo is also ritually important to the Toda, who live in the Nilgiri Hills of Tamil Nadu. The deity On is considered responsible for bringing the buffalo to earth, and dances are performed at the Toda shrines as part of his worship.

Shanti Bardhan (d 1954) was one of Shankar's associates, responsible for creating two important ballets: the Rāma-līlā and the Pañca-tantra. He was also involved in the production of the ballet Discovery of India, based on Nehru's book of the same name. The Rāma-līlā uses one single movement for the whole ballet, in which a puppet show is presented. In the Pañca-tantra the characters are birds, whose movements are depicted through a distinctive use of the spine and arms.

3. 20th-century trends.

(i) Modern dance.

In the 1920s Uday Shankar, much influenced by his meeting with Anna Pavlova, was the first to break away from traditional styles. He created impressionistic dances and freed movement from the constraints of mime by using the whole body instead of concentrating purely on the hands and face for expression. Although inspired by Indian myth, he was also interested in developing as a theme the increasing mechanization of human life. His early creations, such as Labour and Machinery – Rhythm of Life, laid the foundations of a new idiom that introduced elements of realism. Shankar founded a school of dance in Almora, Uttar Pradesh; although traditional teachers worked there, a new style of dance emerged as a result of Shankar's influence. Elements from classical dance were freely incorporated into the new technique, although the sculpturesque pose and the basic motifs of individual styles were abandoned. The dance movements themselves became the primary focus, with music only providing an accompaniment and no longer guiding the actions.

The movements used in modern dance gave new stimulus to the performers in the traditional schools. New themes and new literary sources were used in creating dance-dramas in classical styles. Bharata-nātyam was no longer restricted to the solo dancer: many dance-dramas were composed using both bharata-nātyam and kathakali by Rukmini Devi and Mrinalini Sarabhai. In odissi, full-length dance-dramas based on the Gīta-govinda, using many characters, have been attempted. In kathak, a number of ballets on traditional and modern themes have been choreographed by Briju Maharaj, and in manipuri by Singhajit Singh. Some choreographers have drawn on material from local forms; a ballet called Bhairavī by Prabhat Gangully uses the māyurbhanj chau.

(ii) Dance in film.

Dance has been an important aspect of Indian film since the very first ‘talkies’ in the 1930s and may be seen as a continuation of traditional Indian theatre (and particularly the Marathi theatre of the end of the 19th century), where dance, mime, text and music have always been integral to the presentation of the story. Music and dance in film perform much the same function as in classical Sanskrit drama, that is, to provide an interlude during which the action moves forward in time.

The first dances were classical; many traditional teachers of bharata-nātyam had emigrated from their villages to Madras and Bombay to seek work in the film industry. However, choreographers soon broadened their range of influences to include elements of contemporary dance and local traditions, so that group dances, as well as duets and solo items, with complex, synchronized choreography have been an enduring feature of Indian films. During the 1970s disco from the West influenced choreographers, as did the later videos of Western stars, such as Michael Jackson. Techniques such as ‘moon walking’ and break dancing were now seen on screen alongside more ‘classical’ styles in duet and group dances. The result has been an increasingly syncretic dance style peculiar to film, an amalgam of ‘classical’ styles, local traditions and Western popular dance, generally known as disco.

(iii) New Asian dance music.

This term is adopted by Sharma, Hutnyk and Sharma (1996, pp.33–41) as a catch-all term for a variety of popular musics associated with the British South Asian community. The terms Bhangra and ‘post-bhangra’ also cover these musics, which may have little or nothing to do with the Punjabi traditional dance (see §2(ii) above) from which the name comes (cf. Baumann, 1990). They arose as a South Asian counterpart, in Southall and Birmingham, to the club and dance scene of the 1980s and 90s and owe a debt to black dance musics coming from the USA, such as soul, hip-hop and rap.

The earliest bhangra bands were formed on the immigrant Punjabi wedding circuit playing traditional music, including that used for the bhangra dance. This traditional music had less and less appeal to the generations of South Asians born and raised in Britain, who more often identified with black musics such as reggae. At the beginning of the 1980s bands such as Alaap and Heera integrated these sound-system-based musics into the more traditional forms being played on the wedding circuit. As recordings and experience of this music spread through young South Asian communities, a club and dance scene coalesced around these bands, with gigs and raves taking place both during the day and at night.

As the scene developed it became more diverse and moved beyond the original designation of ‘bhangra’. Artists such as Apache Indian incorporated elements of ragga into their music, while Bally Sagoo mixed in drum ’n' bass to produce ‘acid bhangra’ and turned his attention to Hindi film songs, producing re-mixed versions of hits on albums such as Bollywood Classics and Bollywood Flashbacks (both 1994). These artists have achieved great popularity in India itself, with many of these innovations feeding back into the South Asian popular music and dance scene. More recently, groups such as the Asian Dub Foundation and Fun^Da^Mental have mixed South Asian instrumentation and lyrics with rap, producing music with an explicitly political message, while Cornershop, a guitar-based band, has produced rock-oriented music.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

GEWM, v (‘Music and Dance: Northern Area’, M.D. Natavar; ‘Music and Dance: Southern Area’, S. Kersenboom and M.D. Natavar)

treatises and general sources

Nandikesvara: Abhinayadarpana (5th–10th centuries ce); ed. and trans. M. Ghosh as Nandikesvara's Abhinayadarpanam: a Manual of Gestures and Postures used in Hindu Dance and Drama (Calcutta, 1934, 2/1957)

Jayasena: Nrttaratnāvali (1253); ed. V. Raghavan (Madras, 1965)

Marg, xix/2 (1996) [special issue: classical and traditional dances of India]

J. van Zile: Dance in India: an Annotated Guide to Source Materials (Providence, RI, 1973)

U.S. Krishna Rao and U.K. Chandrabhaga: Nrtya kale (Bangalore, 1980); Eng. trans. as A Panorama of Indian Dances (Delhi, 1993)

G. Kuppuswamy: Indian Music and Dance Literature: a Select Bibliography (New Delhi, 1981)

G.C. Kendadamath: Indian Music and Dance: a Select Bibliography (Varanasi, 1986)

classical dance

B.K. Iyer: Kathakali: the Sacred Dance-Drama of Malabar (Madras, 1950/R)

K. Vatsyayan: Classical Indian Dance in Literature and the Arts (New Delhi, 1968, 2/1977)

D. Patnaik: Oddissi Dance (Orissa, 1971)

K. Vatsyayan: Indian Classical Dance (New Delhi, 1974, 2/1992)

S. Kothari, ed.: Bharat Natyam: Indian Classical Dance Art (Bombay, 1982)

M. Bose: Classical Indian Dancing (Madras, 1984)

F.A. Marglin: Wives of the God-King: the Rituals of the Devadasis of Puri (Delhi, 1985)

P. Banerjee: Dance in Thumri (New Delhi, 1986)

B.T. Jones: ‘Kathakali Dance-Drama: an Historical Perspective’, AsM, xviii/2 (1987), 14–44

S.C. Kersenboom-Story: Nityasumangalī: Devadasi Tradition in South India (Delhi, 1987)

S. Doshi, ed.: Dances of Manipur: the Classical Tradition (Bombay, 1989)

S. Kothari: Kathak: Indian Classical Dance Art (New Delhi, 1989)

S. Bhagyalekshmy: Music and Bharatanatyam (Delhi, 1991)

M.A. Allen: The Tamil Padam (diss., Wesleyan U., 1992)

K. Uma Rama Rao: Kuchipudi Bharatam or Kuchipudi Dance: a South Indian Classical Dance Tradition(Delhi, 1992)

J.B. Higgins: The Music of Bharata Natyam (New Delhi, 1993) [incl. cassette]

G. Kliger, ed.: Bharata Natyam in Cultural Perspective (New Delhi, 1993)

A.-M. Gaston: Bharata Natyam: from Temple to Theatre (New Delhi, 1996)

P.B. Zarrilli: Kathakali Dance-Drama: Where Gods and Demons Come to Play (New York, 1999)

local traditions

V. Raghavan: ‘The Bhāgavata Mela, Nātaka’, Journal of the Indian Society of Oriental Art, v (1937), 167–70

J.C. Mathur: Drama in Rural India (Bombay, 1964)

B. Gargi: Folk Theater of India (Seattle, 1966)

F. van Lamsweerde: ‘Musicians in Indian Society: an Attempt at Classification’, Tropical Man, ii (1969), 7–31

N. Hein: The Miracle Plays of Mathurā (Delhi, 1972)

K.M. Vatsyayan: Traditions of Indian Folk Dance (New Delhi, 1976, enlarged 2/1987)

M.B. Ashton and B. Christie: Yaksagāna: a Dance Drama of India (New Delhi, 1977)

K. Vatsyayan: Traditional Indian Theatre: Multiple Streams (New Delhi, 1980)

P. Banerji: Aesthetics of Indian Folk Dance (New Delhi, 1982)

M.T. Dhoopad: Krishnattam: a Dance Drama of Kerala (Bangalore, 1982)

W. Ashley and R. Holloman: ‘Teyyam’, Indian Theatre: Traditions of Performance, ed. F.P. Richmond, D.L. Swann and P. Zarrilli (Honolulu, 1990), 131–50

R.A. Frasca: The Theater of the Mahabharata: Terukkūttu Performances in South India(Honolulu, 1990)

F.P. Richmond: ‘Kūtiyāttam’, Indian Theatre: Traditions of Performance, ed. F.P. Richmond, D.L. Swann and P. Zarrilli (Honolulu, 1990), 87–117

D.L. Swann: ‘Rās Līlā’, ibid., 177–213

A. Tsubaki and F.P. Richmond: ‘Chau’, ibid., 358–83

M.L. Varadapande: Mahabharata in Performance (New Delhi, 1990)

S. Mahapatra, ed.: Chhau Dance of Mayurbhanj (Cuttack, 1993)

J.B. Flueckiger: ‘Land of Wealth, Land of Famine: the “Parrot Dance” in Ritual and Narrative Suā Nāc ’, Gender and Genre in the Folklore of Middle India (Ithaca and London, 1996), 77–103

I.V. Peterson: ‘The Evolution of the Kuravañci Dance Drama in Tamil Nadu’, South Asian Research, 18/1 (1998), 39–72

S. Thielemann: Rasalila: a Musical Study of Religious Drama in Vraja (New Delhi, 1998)

modern and contemporary trends

S.T. Baskaran: The Message Bearers: the Nationalist Politics and the Entertainment Media in South India 1880–1945 (Madras, 1981)

L. Lutze and B. Pfleiderer, eds.: The Hindi Film: Agent and Re-Agent of Cultural Change (New Delhi, 1985)

G. Baumann: ‘The Re-Invention of Bhangra: Social Change and Aesthetic Shifts in a Punjabi Music in Britain’, World of Music, xxxii/2 (1990), 81–95

S. Sharma, J. Hutnyk and A. Sharma, eds.: Dis-Orienting Rhythms: the Politics of the New Asian Dance Music (Atlantic Highlands, NJ, 1996)

recordings

Inde du Sud: musiques rituelles et théâtre du Kerala, rec. P. Pitoëff, Chant du Monde LDX 274910 (1989) [incl. notes by P. Pitoëff]

The Kudiyattam Dance Drama: an Ancient Sanskrit Performance from Kerala, JVC VICG-5037 (1990) [incl. disc notes]

Raslila: a Dance Play in Praise of Krishna, JVC VICG-5033 (1990) [incl. disc notes]

Orissi Dance Music: an Ancient Performance from Orissa, JVC VICG-5268 (1993) [incl. disc notes]

In the 1980s and 90s the pace of research and publication by Indian and non-Indian scholars on South Asia’s performing arts continued much as before. There were four primary areas of research: the performance genres of both Hindustani and Karnatak music; systematic and theoretical research (e.g. on pitch, rāga etc.); the life and music of a particular artist; and research that is primarily historical, focussing on musical instruments as well as culture.

X. Research

Prospects for future research are rich, emerging both from previous work and from the adoption of new perspectives. Gradually the boundaries formed by scholarly conceptions of South Asian cultures in terms of master cleavages – ‘national cultural centres’ and regional culture, ‘great’ and ‘little’ traditions, Hindu and Muslim, to name a few – are being broken down. There is an increasing awareness of the political assumptions that underpin these simplistic conceptions of one of the world’s largest and most complex cultures.

In focussing on genres and on particular master artists, attention has remained largely on the overarching spheres of Hindustani and Karnatak music and to a certain extent on pan-Indian culture, since artists of both traditions perform regularly throughout the country. The performers and performance activity thus documented are those in the centres of Madras, Bombay, Delhi and Calcutta. A gradual, centuries-long process led to the existence of a pan-regional and pan-Indian musical culture. An analysis of the dynamics of that process would not only reveal a great deal about the nature of Indian culture today, but would also contextualize recent scholarly work.

While the nation-state has created the pan-Indian performance sphere, music throughout South Asia historically has flourished and developed at more localized levels, as has become clear through recent studies on Lucknow in north India and on Thanjavur in the south. Historical sources from cultural centres offer the opportunity for much deeper historical study of Indian music. Musical activity in princely states such as Gwalior and Rampur remain to be investigated in depth. Ethnographies of contemporary musical life in those regional centres would explain much about Indian culture at the present time, building on work done in Jaipur and other Rajasthani cities.

Local Indian culture is incomparably rich but largely neglected by scholars. While interdisciplinary studies of narrative forms have been exciting researchers around the world, local Indian narrative forms such as kathakali and yaksagāna have been ignored. Music in the Deccani area of India – that important meeting place of north and south, of South Asian and West Asian cultures – remains largely unexplored, either historically or in contemporary times. Recent writings on Maharashtrian and Gujarati culture border on it, but insufficient recognition is accorded such ‘localized’ studies, due primarily to the focus on pan-regional traditions.

The artificial division between ‘great’ and ‘little’ traditions (in musical terms, classical and other) has kept imaginations confined within the categories of ‘classical’, ‘folk’, ‘tribal’ and ‘popular’, and concentrated primarily on the ‘classical’, with genre study generously incorporating the ‘light classical’. Finally, however, scholars are according more attention to music at village level or to the music of a particular social group, e.g. Rajasthani musician castes, south Indian Christians and Ādivāsī groups. Likewise, studies of women in the ‘great’ tradition and even women’s musical traditions are gaining momentum. The film music and cassette industries in India are attracting, indeed compelling, attention to popular music. These are all rich and important areas for research.

In addition, work has just begun on sources long available but untapped. For example, Persian-language writing from the medieval period onwards, in literature, official chronicles or scholarly work, is being mined for the history of musical instruments and for tracing the development of the two ‘classical’ traditions (see §II above). Mughal paintings and early photographs are sources of invaluable information and new perspectives.

Significantly, scholar after scholar is starting to understand that the vitality of the Indian performing arts lies in the dynamic interplay between categories: ‘great’ and ‘little’, ‘classical’ and ‘non-classical’, Ādivāsī and non-‘tribal’, village and urban. Thus, such boundary-crossing topics as patronage, social mobility, musical mobility (for instance, the important role of mendicant musicians in Indian culture), music in ritual, popular culture and the interdependence of social groups through the arts in South Asian cultures emerge as rich subjects for study.

India, Sigismondo d'.

See D'India, Sigismondo.

Indianapolis.

American city, capital of Indiana. It was founded in 1821.

1. Early concert life.

The city’s early musical life was characterized by church choir performances, notably by the 50-voice ensemble at the Second Presbyterian Church, where Henry Ward Beecher was pastor from 1839 to 1847. Stimulated by German immigration during the 1830s and 1840s, singing societies flourished in the mid-19th century. In 1854 the Indianapolis Männerchor was founded and has remained active, having sponsored visits from such international artists as Ernestine Schumann-Heink, Maggie Teyte, George Enescu, Myra Hess and Nathan Milstein. It was followed by a number of other male singing societies.

The May Music Festival, held in 1874–5 and from 1886 to 1898 (when it was also known as the Grand Festival), was modelled on that of Cincinnati. The festival of 1886 had a chorus of about 600 and an orchestra of 60. Visiting orchestras included the Theodore Thomas Orchestra and the Boston SO; among guest conductors were Walter Damrosch and Frederick Stock.

The Indianapolis Matinee Musicale (founded in 1877 as the Ladies Matinee Musical), a society for instrumentalists and singers, continues to play an active part in the city’s musical life. Membership by 1927 was no longer restricted to women. After its participation in the World’s Columbian Exposition (Chicago, 1893), it became affiliated with the National Federation of Music Clubs. Guest artists in the programmes sponsored by the society (usually about 30 a year) have included Alfredo Casella (1920), Wilhelm Backhaus (1925), and Eugene Istomin (1947). Other choral groups included the Mendelssohn Choir (founded 1916) and the Haydn Festival Choir (1932). Solo recitals flourished from 1900 to 1960; the series at the English Theater was particularly notable and included such performers as Rachmaninoff.

2. Orchestras.

In 1896 Karl Schneider formed a 60-member orchestra, which survived until 1906 and was occasionally referred to as the Indianapolis SO. The most important other early attempts to form orchestras were the Indianapolis Orchestra and another short-lived Indianapolis SO, under Alexander Ernestinoff (1910–14). The latter rehearsed at the German House (Athenaeum), which has remained an important centre of musical activity.

The Indianapolis SO was formed in 1929, and first performed on 2 November 1930 under Ferdinand Schaeffer, a German violinist and conductor. The orchestra is supported by the Indiana State Symphony Society (founded 1931) and by its women’s committee (once numbering 5000). Until 1937 it was a cooperative, semi-professional orchestra. That year the society was reorganized under the leadership of the industrialist William H. Ball of Muncie, Fabien Sevitzky was appointed conductor and the orchestra became a fully professional ensemble. During the 1937–8 season, Lotte Lehmann, Albert Spaulding and Emanuel Feuermann appeared as guest soloists; the Indianapolis Symphonic Choir was formed as an affiliate of the orchestra; and ten concerts were broadcast by the Mutual Broadcasting Network (broadcasts continued to 1945). In 1943 the state passed legislation permitting the use of tax revenue for the orchestra; in 1951–2 it was the first significant orchestra to appear on commercial television and was considered one of the ten best orchestras in the USA. Sevitzky’s tenure was marked by his performances of contemporary American music, the engaging of young musicians, several recordings (from 1941) and the initiation of children’s and other community concert series. Dissatisfaction over his programming and other issues led to his dismissal in 1955, and Izler Solomon became director in 1956. In 1963 the orchestra moved to Clowes Memorial Hall (cap. 2182) on the Butler University campus. The hall is a centre of musical activity in Indianapolis, and has a flexible stage to accommodate solo recitals, ensembles, orchestras, opera and ballet. In 1984 the renovated Circle Theater (cap. 1847) became the orchestra’s home.

The orchestra achieved increased international recognition under Solomon, who resigned his post in 1976. Following two seasons of guest conductors, John Nelson became music director in 1976. Raymond Leppard succeeded him in 1987 and has brought the orchestra high acclaim. In 1982 the quadrennial International Violin Competition was initiated in Indianapolis.

3. Opera.

Despite frequent appearances by world renowned groups, it was not until after World War II that local opera began to develop. An interest in light opera from the 1880s resulted in the founding, by Ora Pearson, of the Indianapolis Opera Company, which lasted about a decade. A professional company, the Indianapolis Opera, was founded in 1975 and gives about four productions a year at the Clowes Memorial Hall. The Indiana Opera Theater, a community-based opera company, was founded in 1983.

4. Education.

In 1907 the College of Musical Art was founded. It merged with the Indiana College of Music and Fine Arts in 1918 and by 1922 it had 1000 students and 30 instructors. The Arthur Jordan Conservatory of Music was formed in 1928 through the merging of the Indiana College of Music and Fine Arts, the Metropolitan School of Music (founded 1895) and a number of smaller institutions. It was affiliated with Butler University (founded 1855) from 1928 to 1951. In 1968 the college began sponsoring the Romantic Music Festival, held each April until 1988. Succeeding annual festivals have presented the Soviet arts, contemporary American music and the works of Brahms and Schubert. In the mid-1990s 200 undergraduate and 70 graduate students were enrolled at Jordan, which has a faculty of 50 and offers BA, BM, BS and MM degrees in performance, theory, composition, education, history and arts administration. Degree programmes are also offered at the University of Indianapolis (founded as Indiana Central University in 1902) and the school of music at Indiana University in Bloomington, about 80 kilometres south of Indianapolis.

5. Ragtime and jazz.

Although Indianapolis was not one of the points of origination for ragtime, it became an important centre for its publication. After a late start, the publication of ragtime in Indianapolis reached a peak in 1908 and remained high until 1916. Leading ragtime composers included May Aufderheide, Julia Niebergall, Paul Pratt, J. Russel Robinson and Russell Smith.

The early history of jazz in the city featured extended visits from the Wolverines with Bix Beiderbecke, Red Nichols (and his Syncopating Five) and Hoagy Carmichael; from the 1930s a more indigenous jazz evolved. Among those whose careers began in Indianapolis are the trumpeter Freddie Hubbard; the trombonists J.J. Johnson, Slide Hampton and David Baker; the alto saxophonist Jimmy Spaulding; the pianists Leroy Carr and Carl Perkins; the guitarist Wes Montgomery; the double bass players Monk Montgomery and Larry Ridley; and the drummers Earl ‘Fox’ Walker and Sonny Johnson. The most important groups included the Montgomery/Johnson Quintet, the Dave Baker Quartet and the Wes Montgomery Trio. David Baker of Indiana University at Bloomington has also achieved recognition as a jazz educator, author and arranger.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

M.F. Bellinger: ‘Music in Indianapolis’, Indiana Magazine of History, xli (1945), 345–62; xlii (1946), 47–65

E. Draegert: Indianapolis: the Culture of an Inland City (diss., Indiana U., 1952)

S.W. Siurua: History of the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra (diss., Indiana U., 1961)

E. Leary: Indianapolis: the Story of a City (Indianapolis, 1971)

N.H. Long: ‘The Development of Musical Educational Organizations in Indiana’, Indiana Musicator, xxxii/3 (1976–7), 36

J. Hasse: The Creation and Dissemination of Indianapolis Ragtime, 1897–1930 (diss., Indiana U., 1981)

N. Comiskey: ‘Historic Indianapolis: the Two-step, Toe-tapping Tempo of Ragtime’, Indianapolis Monthly (1982), March, 54

DAVID E. FENSKE (with WILLIAM McCLELLAN (4))/JAMES R. BRISCOE

Indiana University School of Music.

The university was founded in 1820 and began to offer music instruction in 1893. A music department was organized, at Bloomington, in 1910; in 1921 it was made a school of music. Under the deanship (1947–73) of Wilfred C. Bain the school experienced great expansion which has made it one of the largest and best-equipped schools of music in the country. Charles H. Webb succeeded Bain. In the mid-1990s over 1400 students were enrolled at the school, whose teaching staff numbered about 140. Degrees are offered in performing, theory, composition and musicology, as well as in recording technology, stagecraft and string instrument building; an artist diploma is also awarded. The school has a strong opera programme. The library houses almost 550,000 items, including nearly 160,000 recordings; rare books and music (including over 125,000 titles of American sheet music and the personal papers of Hoagy Carmichael) are in the university’s Lilly Library. Other important resources include an Early Music Institute, a Latin American Music Center, a Black Music Center and the Archives of Traditional Music.

BRUCE CARR

Indie music.

Before the punk explosion in the UK in the mid-1970s, six major record labels (what are now CBS/Sony, the American Warner and MCA, the Dutch Polygram, British EMI and German BMG) operated an effective monopoly on access to mass public taste, especially throughout the Anglophone world. Through its explicit challenge to bourgeois values, punk broke this monopoly, enabling independent (hence indie) labels to gain an effective market share. Consequently Stiff Records became immediately important, especially through their promotion of Elvis Costello and the Attractions. Other notable labels include: Rough Trade, who marketed the Smiths; Creation, who marketed Primal Scream, Teenage Fanclub and, latterly, Oasis; 4AD with the Cocteau Twins; Kitchenware with Prefab Sprout; Beggar's Banquet; Demon and One Little Indian. Such labels' real independence from larger competitors was called into question particularly by Rough Trade's distribution problems in 1991.

As a style label indie is not particularly useful, although it does carry connotations of sensitive, somewhat introspective personas who generally lack strong vocal projection. Indie music eschews overt commerciality and relies on dense, overdriven guitar chords rather than riffs, alongside the presence of thousands of small-time dedicated bands. In the late 1980s the term became particularly associated with a new wave of Manchester bands such as Inspiral Carpets, Happy Mondays, New Order and Stone Roses. By the mid-1990s the best of indie was regularly on show at large-scale festivals, such as Glastonbury and Reading in the UK and Lollopallooza in New York.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

S. Reynolds: ‘Against Health and Efficiency: Independent Music in the 1980s’, Zoot Suits and Second-Hand Dresses, ed. A. McRobbie (London, 1989), 245–55

C. Larkin, ed.: The Guinness Who's Who of Indie & New Wave (London, 1995)

ALLAN F. MOORE

Indonesia (Bahasa Indon. Republik Indonesia).

Country in South-east Asia.

I. General

II. Bali, Lombok and Sumbawa

VIII. Pan-Indonesian musical developments

PHILIP YAMPOLSKY (I, 1, 3; IV: bibliography; VIII, 1), DR SUMARSAM (I, 2), LISA GOLD (II, 1), TILMAN SEEBASS (II, 2–3), BENJAMIN BRINNER (III), MICHAEL CRAWFORD (IV: text), SIMON COOK (V, 1), MATTHEW ISAAC COHEN (V, 2), MARC PERLMAN (VI), VIRGINIA GORLINSKI (VII, 1), MARGARET J. KARTOMI (VII, 2), CHRISTOPHER BASILE (VII, 3), R. ANDERSON SUTTON (VII, 4), FRANKI RADEN (VIII, 2)

1. Cultural and musical geography.

I. General

2. History.

3. Instruments.

Indonesia, §I: General

1. Cultural and musical geography.

(ii) National and regional culture.

(iii) Musical overview.

Indonesia, §I, 1: General: Cultural and musical geography

(i) Introduction.

Currently the fourth most populous nation in the world, Indonesia covers a vast archipelago of some 17,500 islands, of which about 6000 are inhabited (fig.1). Its people belong to approximately 300 ethnic groups and speak roughly the same number of languages. The Melayu (Malay) language, originally spoken by ethnic Melayu of the Malay peninsula, eastern Sumatra, and the Riau islands, developed into a trading, administrative and literary lingua franca in many parts of the archipelago; under the name Bahasa Indonesia it has been successfully established as the national language of independent Indonesia. Some 85–90% of the country's inhabitants profess the Muslim faith, making Indonesia the world's largest Muslim nation. Irian Jaya, the easternmost province of Indonesia, comprises the western half of the island of New Guinea; its population and cultures are Melanesian rather than Indonesian and it is therefore treated more fully elsewhere (see Melanesia, §II).

The territory of modern Indonesia is coterminous with that of the former Dutch colony known as the Dutch East Indies. From 1976 to 1999 Indonesia also claimed East Timor, not part of the Dutch colony. After establishing footholds in western Java and Ambon at the beginning of the 17th century, the Dutch gradually extended their control throughout the archipelago, though some regions (e.g. Bali, northern Sumatra and parts of eastern Indonesia) were not fully brought under Dutch authority until the beginning of the 20th century. During World War II the Japanese army expelled the Dutch and occupied Indonesia. On 17 August 1945, with the defeat of the Japanese imminent, Indonesia declared its independence; the Dutch, however, attempted to return, and only after four years of guerrilla warfare did they accept Indonesia's sovereignty.

Indonesia, §I, 1: General: Cultural and musical geography

(ii) National and regional culture.

As Indonesia has only been an independent nation for half a century, and indeed has only existed with its present boundaries for the last 100 or so years (since the Dutch achieved full control over the archipelago), the question arises of what exactly ‘Indonesian culture’ is. If the notion requires the existence of an Indonesia, then nothing created before about 1900 can be considered Indonesian; alternatively, Indonesian culture could be considered to be whatever has developed, over thousands of years, among hundreds of ethnic groups, on the thousands of islands now grouped together as Indonesia. These issues have provoked extensive and unresolved debate (Mihardja, 2/1977).

Government statements and policies on national culture are ambiguous and contradictory (see Yampolsky, 1995). On the one hand, the government claims the so-called ‘peaks of culture’ of the many ethnic groups of modern Indonesia as part of the national heritage. On the other, according to critics, the government's cultural engineering policies and programmes to ‘preserve’ and ‘foster’ the ‘traditional’ (that is, in this context, ethnic, or ‘regional’) arts show a low regard for the arts themselves as traditionally practised and a distrust of the ethnic identity and ethnic pride they symbolize and affirm (see Widodo, 1995 and Yampolsky, 1995). The government also discountenances the so-called ‘animist’ religions with which traditional arts are often associated. Indonesians are pressured to adopt instead one of the five world religions: Islam, Christianity (counted as two: Catholicism and Protestantism), Hinduism and Buddhism. Unless an indigenous belief-system can be interpreted as a form of one of the world religions, its adherents are described as ‘not yet having a religion’.

Many Indonesians outside the government are equally uncertain about the value of traditional culture, which is often seen as backward and (in the eyes of those who have accepted Islam or Christianity) heathen. Moreover, shared nationality has apparently not broken down musical barriers. With a few short-lived exceptions (e.g. Sundanese jaipongan and Minangkabau-language hiburan daerah; see §VIII, 1 below), attempts by the entertainment industry and the government to disseminate the music of one ethnic group to the rest of the country have failed, especially when the music in question is sung in a regional language rather than the lingua franca, Indonesian.

Even if traditional arts are in principle accepted as an element of Indonesia's national culture, they are not shared by or known to all Indonesians. In music, a paradoxical situation has arisen: since no indigenous musical idiom or instrumentation is accepted by all Indonesians, any ‘national’ music must use foreign idioms and instruments, i.e. those of Western and, to a lesser extent, Middle Eastern music. The result is that the only kinds of music accepted throughout Indonesia are the various forms of ‘national’ popular music, which are sung in Indonesian and are not tied to specific ethnic groups. A related paradox is that in a country where nearly three-quarters of the population lives in rural areas, the music with the highest prestige and widest dissemination is the urban popular music of the cities, particularly Jakarta.

Within their home regions and ethnic groups, however, traditional musics survive and, in some cases, thrive. Often where one of the officially-sanctioned world religions has become dominant, an accommodation has been reached with traditional culture, permitting traditional practices (including music) so long as they do not violate the tenets of the world religion. Such accommodations favour secular entertainment forms of traditional music, the sort that might be performed to celebrate weddings, circumcisions or community anniversaries. Typically, traditional music is enjoyed and supported more by the middle-aged and old than by the young, who prefer forms of urban popular music, but there are frequent exceptions to this rule.

Indonesia, §I, 1: General: Cultural and musical geography

(iii) Musical overview.

The outline that follows of the principal kinds of music that have developed or taken root in the islands now part of Indonesia focusses on genres, contexts and musical materials (instruments are discussed in §3 below).

Indonesia is so large and fragmented that few generalizations about music can apply to the entire country. Some observations of this sort are attempted here, but attention is also given to genres and musical traits that, while not distributed over all of Indonesia, cross one or more of the major cultural or geographic boundaries within the country. Music characteristic of a single clearly bounded entity (e.g. of Kalimantan, or of the Javanese ethnic group) is discussed in the appropriate regional sections below.

Margaret Kartomi has attempted to classify the music of much of Indonesia according to periods or ‘strata’ in the music-history of the region and to identify instruments, genres and techniques characteristic of those strata (Kartomi, 1980). The principal strata she distinguishes are pre-Islamic, Islamic and post-European. This effort is related to Kunst's attempt to identify the elements of a ‘megalithic’ stratum (Kunst, 1939 and 1942), and to the interests of some scholars in determining the Austronesian foundations of Indonesian music. One objection to all such projects is that foreign musical influences have been felt in Indonesia for so long – Indian influence for perhaps 2000 years, Muslim influence for at least 1000, European influence for 500 – that they can in many cases no longer be disentangled from each other, let alone from an ‘original’ stratum. While it is true that certain features are often likely indicators of one or another strand of influence, many genres mix features from several strata. Historical classification will be avoided here in favour of identifying traits and complexes that may stand alone or in combination with others.

This survey is inevitably incomplete. Specific instances of genres of pratices discussed here have been chosen because of availability of recorded examples or because of substantial coverage in the scholarly literature (see bibliogaphy). Scholarly and popular documentation of Indonesian music has concentrated on Java and Bali and, to a much lesser extent, Sumatra. Although excellent studies of instrument construction and distribution throughout Indonesia were produced in the colonial era, the musical practice of the ‘outer islands’ (including Sumatra) was drastically under-reported until the late 1970s: there are some scattered studies from the 1920s and 30s, mostly based on brief fieldwork, overviews by Snelleman (1818) and Kunst (1946; Eng. trans. in Indonesian Music and Dance, 1994) and occasional descriptions by ethnographers, usually without much musical detail. Recordings of this period are even scarcer than written materials and often have only minimal documentation.

This situation began to change when recordings with scholarly commentary were published on music in Lombok by Seebass, East Kalimantan by Maceda and Revel-Macdonald, and Timor by Clamagirand. Further recordings with documentation have followed on North Sumatra by Kartomi and by Simon, Irian Jaya by Simon, East Kalimantan by Gorlinski, and highland South Sulawesi by Rappoport. In 1991 Smithsonian Folkways Recordings, in collaboration with the Indonesian Society for the Performing Arts (Masyarakat Seni Pertunjukan Indonesia, formed as Masyarakat Musikologi Indonesia in 1988), launched an extensive survey: the Music of Indonesia series of 20 compact discs presenting music from all over the country. Publication of another recordings series, Musik Tradisi Nusantara, was begun by the Indonesian government's Departemen Pendidikan dan Kebudayaan, in 1998.

Useful books and articles on the music of hitherto little-known areas have begun to appear, and there is a growing stream of dissertations and theses in Indonesia and abroad. In 1990 the Indonesian Society for the Performing Arts inaugurated a journal, Seni Pertunjukan Indonesia, with frequent articles by Indonesian and foreign researchers on lesser-known traditions and regions. Ethnographic attention to these regions has also heightened. Nevertheless, the picture of Indonesia's music is still sketchy and tentative. Only the ‘art’ music traditions of Java, Bali and Sunda (West Java) and some of the village traditions of these areas, can be said to be well covered.

(a) Scales and metres.

(b) Genres and ensembles.

Indonesia, §I, 1(iii): Cultural and musical geography: Overview

(a) Scales and metres.

Tonal bases are most commonly pentatonic or tetratonic, but hexatonic and heptatonic scales exist. Vocal melodies and those of certain instruments or ensembles are sometimes restricted in range to less than an octave (extreme examples include Toba Batak melodies with an ambitus of a perfect 5th and Minangkabau saluang (flute) songs covering only a tritone). Some hexatonic and heptatonic scales or scale systems are imported from Europe or the Middle East, but some are apparently indigenous (e.g. Petalangan, Bugis and Makasar examples). Others, like seven-tone pélog in Java and Bali, are concatenations of discrete five-tone scales, albeit sometimes with modulation within a single piece, thus producing a total of six or seven tones). Modulation and chromaticism may also occur in the imported heptatonic systems, leading to total collections of more than seven tones. Among the Kenyah in East Kalimantan, melodies for the sampeq lute may use different five-tone scales in the upper and lower registers, again producing six or seven tones altogether.

In ensembles combining instruments of permanently or temporarily fixed pitch (such as metallophones, zithers or fretted lutes) with singers or instruments capable of variable intonation (fiddles, oboes, certain flutes), the more flexible group may provide additional tones not present in the fixed scale. This practice is pervasive in Sundanese music and is also found in the barang miring technique of Central Javanese gamelan music. In the gondang and gendang ensembles of the Toba and Karo of North Sumatra, the double-reed aerophones have six basic pitches determined by their fingerholes, but they are played with such variable intonation that the basic scale is elusive, similar to the saluang flute in West Sumatra. Messner (1989) has analysed the singing style in the Tanjung Bunga region of East Flores as structurally microtonal, but this has not yet been confirmed by cognitive research among the singers. Jaap Kunst observed melodies containing tritones in South Nias and Central Flores (Kunst, 1942, pp.35–8) noting that they occurred in conjunction with triple metre and alongside various culture traits he labelled ‘megalithic’. On this basis he speculated that tritones and triple metre might themselves belong to a very old megalithic cultural stratum.

Metres are most commonly duple (especially quadruple), with the melodic phrases usually of four, eight, sixteen (and multiples thereof) beats in length. As Kunst pointed out, triple metre is found in the so-called megalithic cultures of Nias and Flores, but it is also found in other contexts: in Melayu music (the lagu dua rhythm, a six-beat measure that may be organized as 2+2+2 or 3+3); in Mentawai and forest Riau; in Timor, interior West Kalimantan and North Sulawesi. In most of these instances there is no association with Kunst's tritone melodies or megalithic traits.

In addition to duple and triple metres, there are also some oddly distributed and as yet little-noticed pockets of ‘irregular’ and shifting metres. Examples of the first type are seven-beat metre in Sumba; five-, seven- and fourteen-beat metres among certain Dayak groups in Kalimantan; and ten-beat metres in western Timor. Instances of shifting metre drawn from commercially available recordings include a dance hoho from Nias with a cycle of 30 beats phrased 10+8+6+6 (with each beat subdivided in three); a Minangkabau talempong (gong-chime ensemble) piece with the structure 16+12+18+8 (interior phrases are repeatable); and a dance song from Timor phrased 5+5+5+4 (again, like the Nias hoho, with ternary subdivision). Certain genres or repertories are pervaded with elusive shifting metres: the tabuik or tabut music of Minangkabau and Bengkulu, the old funeral repertory of the Balinese angklung ensemble and the music of the bamboo senggayung ensemble in southwest Kalimantan.

Indonesia, §I, 1(iii): Cultural and musical geography: Overview

(b) Genres and ensembles.

Sung narrative. Genres of sung narrative, performed by one or two singers unaccompanied, or accompanied by only one or two instruments and sometimes with a chorus chiming in at the end of a line, are widely distributed. Performers are normally specialists – professionals, or others recognized as having particular aptitude for performance of the genre in question. A partial listing of genres includes hikayat in Aceh; in mainland Riau, nyanyi panjang among the Petalangan, and the Melayu genre transcribed and translated by Derks (1994); dendang Pauah, rabab Pariaman, rabab pasisie and sijobang in West Sumatra; kunaung among the Kerinci in Jambi; taknaa' among Kayan and belian tekena' among Kenyah in Kalimantan; old-style karungut among Ngaju in Central Kalimantan, accompanied by a single kacapi (lute); cerita pantun, accompanied by kacapi (zither) in West Java; kentrung in Central and East Java, accompanied by frame drum; in South Sulawesi, violin narratives among the Bugis, sinrilli among the Makasar (accompanied by a spike-fiddle) and kacapi (lute) narratives in both groups; gelong among the Sa'dan Toraja; and aten in Buru. Some of these genres use a single repeating melody for long stretches of narrative, whereas others insert free-standing songs for variety. Most have a high degree of textual extemporaneity. In contrast, among the Javanese and Balinese, certain forms of narrative poetry are sung (usually solo) with fixed texts in complex stanza forms (e.g. macapat, kakawin and kidung.)

Examples of solo sung narrative accompanied by larger instrumental ensembles are comparatively rare: gambang rancag of the Indonesian-Chinese (peranakan Cina) of the Jakarta region, accompanied by the gambang kromong orchestra; modern karungut of the Ngaju in Central Kalimantan; and kentrung in some parts of East Java. It seems likely that these are all expansions of genres originally performed by one or two musicians only.

Lyric singing. Specialist performance of lyric singing (that is, verses not part of religious or shamanistic observance and without extended narrative) by a soloist, typically accompanied by one instrument, is equally widespread; indeed, in many places the same musicians sing and accompany both lyric and narrative forms. (Unaccompanied lyric singing by specialists is rare, except for non-narrative macapat singing in Central Java and Bali.) The verses may contain advice or conventional wisdom, lament, social commentary, joking or teasing references to individuals or groups, accounts of personal experience, or expressions of longing for home or a loved one. A common pattern is for a male singer and a female singer to trade serious or teasing verses, typically on the themes of love and courtship: for example, dendang jo saluang among the Minangkabau, where the singers are accompanied by an oblique flute; biola rawa Mbojo in eastern Sumbawa, using a violin; guitar songs in southern Sumatra and South Sulawesi; and songs in Sumba accompanied by the four-string plucked lute jungga. Among the Bugis and Makasar verses may be exchanged, but usually by male singers, without the romantic or teasing tone and with two (or more) singers accompanying themselves on violins (Bugis) or kacapi lute (Makasar). Exchanged verses accompanied by a larger ensemble are found, for example, in ronggeng (see below) music of Melayu groups in Sumatra and elsewhere; in the gambang kromong ensemble of the outskirts of Jakarta; in Bugis mixed-instrument ensembles; and in the early, competitive form of kroncong singing. Specialist lyric singing by a single vocalist without the exchange of verses is usually also a possibility wherever the other form is found; there are also some societies where the single-singer form (typically accompanied by a plucked lute) is the norm, as among the Kayan of Kalimantan and the Kajang and Mandar of South Sulawesi.

Informal music. Certain forms of private or informal music-making by non-specialists are found throughout the archipelago: singing, of course, for emotional release or for the amusement of oneself or others close by; and the solo playing of bamboo flutes and jew's harps. Reed aerophones may also be played for these purposes, though less commonly than flutes. Jew's harps and other soft instruments are often also used in courtship; for example, a jew's harp played quietly at night can signal a young woman that her sweetheart is waiting for her outside. This practice is reported from many parts of the country.

Collective work is a common occasion for informal music-making. To husk rice, groups of women may pound it in a mortar using long pestles, striking them against the mortar in interlocking rhythms. Often the music is purely percussive; however in Natuna Besar, an island in eastern Riau, the pestles are tuned to produce seven clear pitches. The Javanese kethoprak theatre is said to originate in the enactment of stories to an accompaniment of mortar rhythms.

Group singing. Many types of music involving multiple singers exist. There is group singing in unison or octaves and singing in which a soloist is answered by a chorus in unison or octaves. Examples include didong from the Gayo in Aceh; janger from Bali; the Islamic popular music qasidah moderen; work songs in Sumba; dance songs in Kei and Timor; and the pakarena chorus in South Sulawesi.

Two-part homophony, with all or most changes of pitch or text made simultaneously, is uncommon in western Indonesia (Sumatra, Java, Bali and the western and central regions of Kalimantan), but it occurs comparatively often in the eastern half of the country (e.g. among the Toraja of South Sulawesi, and in Flores, East Kalimantan and North Sulawesi). Some styles are characterized by parallelism in a single interval (3rds, 4ths or 5ths); some move more flexibly within a mainly triadic framework or one permitting open 4ths and 5ths; some are flexible within a narrow compass, producing many 2nds (e.g. the Balkan-sounding style of Tanjung Bunga in east Flores). Some styles mix several of these procedures. Sporadic harmony within a predominantly unison or octave texture is also encountered: on specific melody tones, as among the Ot Danum of West Kalimantan, or in brief responses interjected by a chorus, as among the Mek of Irian Jaya.

Homophonic singing in more than two parts is rare outside Christian hymnody. An exception is the three-voice gore of central Flores. The ‘exceedingly beautiful and curious polyphonic (four or more parts) communal harvest songs of a primitive sort’ reported from northern Minahasa (Sulawesi) by Kunst (1946; Eng. trans. 1994, p.183) may be another exception (researchers for the Music of Indonesia series looked for them in 1997 but could not find them), but it is not clear from the description whether or not these were homophonic.

Melody with drone has so far been recorded only among the Toraja of highland South Sulawesi, in central Flores, in Roti and among some groups in the Irian Jaya highlands. Among the Toraja a soloist stays close to the drone pitch, rarely venturing farther afield than a major 2nd above or below. In Flores, the drone pitch is often movable, and melody seems less restricted. Another technique in Toraja is the more or less continual sounding of two drones simultaneously, but with a shifting balance such that when most of the singers are on one a few are on the other (badong). In Flores, drones are sometimes combined with two-part homophony for all or part of a song.

A polyphonic relation can occur between soloist and chorus when, for example, a florid or parlando solo overlaps or overlies a choral melody. This is found in Nias, where the hoho chorus sings in unison; in Flores, where the chorus may be in two-part homophony; and in Central Javanese gamelan music, in the relation between the free-metre female soloist (pesindhèn) and the unison fixed-metre male chorus (gérong).

Heterophonic singing (individual variation in simultaneous versions of what is conceptually the same melodic line) is common throughout the country. It ranges from relaxed unison singing with occasional harmonies or rhythmic discrepancies (e.g. among the Kayan Mendalam in West Kalimantan and in ngel-ngel singing in Kei) to wild hurly-burly. Islamic male devotional singing (see below) often involves heterophony (dikie rabano in West Sumatra; dabus in Halmahera). Particularly unrestrained heterophony is found in some wor singing in Biak (north of western Irian Jaya) and some group macapat singing in East Java and Madura. As in Javanese gamelan music, prescribed destination tones, where the individual lines come together, keep the macapat from disintegrating into chaos.

Simple antiphonal alternation of verses or parts of verses, with one group responding to another (often men responding to women, or vice versa) is found among the Toraja and in dance songs in Timor. Rapid-fire antiphonal responses of short phrases occur in the Irian Jaya highlands.

In Central Flores, Jaap Kunst reported both full canon and a ‘collapsing canon’ in which the voices ‘melt together into unison’ after a canonic opening (Kunst, 1942); however, Music of Indonesia researchers in Flores in 1993 and 94 found no examples of either technique. Similar procedures are found in the Mek region of Irian Jaya: two singers singing the same song but one starting somewhat later than the other (Simon, 1978), and dance-songs beginning with imitative entries but not continuing imitatively (Musik aus dem Bergland West-Neugineas, 1993). Fleeting imitation is also heard in unmetred segments of salawat dulang singing in West Sumatra.

Fortuitous counterpoint (i.e. two unrelated pieces performed at the same time) occurs at big celebrations all over Indonesia (Rappoport, 1999; see also Simon, 1978, p.442 for an instance from Irian Jaya), but deliberate, coordinated counterpoint is rare. Two instances are singing for the wera dance in western Flores and singing for the raego' dance in the mountains of western Central Sulawesi. In both cases, men and women sing different melodies, with contrary motion and some rhythmic independence.

Gong-chime ensembles. Instrumental ensembles dominated by a set of bossed gongs (a ‘gong-chime’) played melodically or in melodic-rhythmic ostinati are common. The gongs may be placed horizontally in a rack and played by a single player or by more than one; or they may be suspended freely on cords or completely dismounted and hand-held, in which cases several players are needed, each controlling one or two gongs. Drums are often included in the ensemble, as are non-melodic gongs marking (or ‘punctuating’) the melodic period and internal subdivisions (if there are any); singers, flutes and lutes rarely take part. Examples are found in Minangkabau and Lampung; among the Petalangan of mainland Riau; in Bali (the bebonangan or balaganjur ensemble); in Central Java (the ancient ceremonial monggang); in many Dayak groups of Kalimantan (Kanayatn, Taman, Ot Danum, Ngaju, Benuaq, and along the Jelai river in the southwest); in the Bolaang Mongondow region of North Sulawesi; and in Maluku, Timor, Sumba and Flores. Typically the ensemble plays outdoors for festivities, often accompanying dance. In some regions (Kalimantan, Timor, Sumba and North Sulawesi) it has a particular repertory for funerals or wakes that is not heard on other occasions. Gong-chime ensembles are not reported in Irian Jaya (except those brought there by immigrants from elsewhere in Indonesia).

The gamelan-wayang complex. The famous gamelan of Java and Bali may be seen as a special development or elaboration of the gong-chime ensemble described above. It is proposed here that for analytical clarity the term ‘gamelan’ should be reserved for ensembles that resemble, in instrumentation and musical organization, the Central Javanese court gamelan or the Balinese gamelan gong ensemble.

To be called a gamelan, according to this proposition, an ensemble must contain at least one form of melodic metal percussion idiophone (either gong-chime or keyed metallophone or both) and hanging gongs (or substitutes for them) serving to ‘punctuate’ the melody; by contrast, in a gong-chime ensemble, the hanging gongs are optional and a gong-chime must be present. Melodic keyed metallophones are very commonly present in gamelan, but they are not (in this definition) requisite.

Regarding musical organization, this proposition stipulates a crucial distinction: that in a gamelan there must be at least two simultaneous melodic lines, related in content but of contrasting musical character, whereas in gong-chime ensembles there may only be the one line carried by the gong-chime itself. The relation between the melodic lines in a gamelan may be, for example, that of a ‘full’ melody and its abstraction, or a comparatively simple melody and a more complex elaboration based on it. The simultaneous melodic lines may exhibit the relationship that has been described as ‘stratified’ (Hood and Susilo, 1967), where a simpler or more abstract version of the melody is played at a lower rhythmic density than a more complex version. They may also show a registral form of stratification, with the more complex versions sounding in a higher register. (Forms of stratification are also found in some non-gamelan ensembles, such as Balinese gender wayang duos or quartets, Sundanese kacapi suling and kawih, and kroncong.)

Certain ensembles termed ‘gamelan’ in the literature, or by their own societies, are excluded in this definition. It is, for example, customary in the literature to call every Balinese ensemble a gamelan, including those with no melodic metallophones or no hanging gongs. Gamelan as defined here are found throughout Java and Bali, Madura, Lombok and among the Banjar of South Kalimantan. Migrants from Java, Bali and Madura to other parts of Indonesia have often brought gamelan music with them; there has also been effort by the national government to establish gamelan as a symbol of ‘Indonesianness’, which has led to the presence of gamelan in the offices of government departments in many provincial capitals.

A number of other performance genres are so closely linked to gamelan as to form a complex, disseminated (with variations) as a unit. In societies where gamelan are found, one or another form of wayang, the puppet theatre (or, in the case of wayang wong, the human theatre modelled on puppet theatre) is also typically found, usually accompanied by gamelan. Also found in association with gamelan and wayang are topèng (masked dance) accompanied by gamelan; macapat poetry (both as an element in gamelan music and on its own); and imitations of gamelan without melodic metal percussion idiophones and instead featuring bamboo or wooden xylophones (in Banyumas and Bali), flutes (gong suling in Bali) or just voices (jemblung in Banyumas, memaca in Madura, and cepung or cekepung in Lombok and East Bali).

The Melayu complex. The culture of the Melayu ethnic group has been influential not only in the areas of Indonesia directly controlled, at one time or another, by Melayu rulers (e.g. the east coast of Sumatra, excluding Aceh and Lampung; the Riau islands; the west coast of Borneo; and major settlements in West Kalimantan along the rivers going inland from the coast), but also in much of the rest of the country, where cultural forms associated with the Melayu were adopted by local rulers who were not themselves Melayu. In the performing arts, certain hallmarks of Melayu culture can be distinguished. These include the following: small ensembles with violin as melodic leader (typically alternating between accompanying a vocalist and taking the lead when the vocalist is silent); use of a class of verse-forms called pantun, sung in Melayu, often by two singers in alternation; and female singer-dancers usually known as ronggeng (see below). Another important feature is the presence of Melayu-language theatre forms using conventions of the bangsawan theatre of Malaysia to tell local and classical Melayu stories, accompanied by a violin-led ensemble (examples of such theatre forms are bangsawan itself, once widespread in Riau; mendu and langlang buana in the Natuna islands; dermuluk in South Sumatra and mamanda in South and East Kalimantan). Two more elements of the complex can be included: Islamic devotional and entertainment genres (dikir or zikir, gambus or zapin), and a particular complementary relation between pairs of identical instruments or between two players on one instrument, such that one plays a simple, repetitive part that the other elaborates or ‘responds’ to. This relation is not precisely stratification, since in Melayu music both the ‘basic’ part and the elaboration are played in the same register, and the two parts may move at the same speed.

It should be noted that the Islamic genres mentioned above are sometimes thought to be Melayu in origin. This is because in much of Sumatra, Riau and Kalimantan it was Melayu rulers and settlers who established and practised Islam, and the religion and the ethnicity came to be construed as identical. In eastern and southern regions of Indonesia, however, these genres are seen not as Melayu but simply as Muslim.

Ronggeng, tayuban and joged. A widespread form of entertainment involves professional female dancers who invite non-professional men (guests at a wedding, for example, or spectators at a public performance) to dance with them. The woman's dance is usually flirtatious, combining invitation with evasion, while the man's dance often mimes infatuation or pursuit. The music is provided by the female dancers' own troupe, often with the female dancer singing while dancing. Unlike, for example, the zapin dance, which has basically the same movement-pattern and accompaniment everywhere it is found, this dance and its music draw on local dance styles and music repertories. In rural parts of the Melayu culture area the music for ronggeng or joged is played by an ensemble of violin, two frame drums and usually a single gong; in cities, the gong is considered old-fashioned and is omitted, and an accordion is often added. In Central Java, on the other hand, this type of dancing at a tayuban is accompanied by gamelan. In West Java, the ronggeng (dancer) could be accompanied by the ketuk tilu (an ensemble of rebab, non-melodic gongs, a hanging gong, drums and other percussion) or by tanjidor (combining European wind-band instruments with Sundanese percussion). In Bali the accompaniment for a female dancer is an ensemble (joged bumbung) of bamboo xylophones organized on the model of a gamelan; in former times there were also male professional dancers (gandrung). Still other examples of this form of dance are: cokek, accompanied by gambang kromong, among the Peranakan Cina (persons of mixed Chinese and Indonesian descent) in Jakarta; gandrung Banyuwangi in East Java; ronggeng in Ternate and Tidore; and jaipongan in West Java.

Martial arts genres. Pencak, silat and kuntau (among other terms) refer to a variety of martial art or ‘self-defence dance’ widespread in Indonesia, particularly among Muslims. The common accompaniment to this genre is an ensemble of drums, non-melodic gongs and a double-reed aerophone; among the Petalangan in the forest of mainland Riau, a xylophone or single-row gong-chime is used instead of the double-reed. This type of genre is found throughout Sumatra, Java and Madura, in Muslim areas of Kalimantan, in Sulawesi, Maluku, Bali and in scattered locations in the islands running east from Bali. It has been taken up as a sport and entertainment in rural Islamic schools (pesantrèn), which may account for its Muslim associations, but it is not exclusively or essentially a Muslim art (Bouvier, 1995, p.155). Its origins in Indonesia are obscure; it is sometimes said to have come from the Malay peninsula to Sumatra and to have spread to the rest of Indonesia from there.

Music for shamanism, magic and curing. In Sumatra and across Kalimantan from west to east (and perhaps farther east into Sulawesi and Maluku), a form of shamanism is found that involves a journey into the mystical world to obtain medicine to cure an illness or distress (personal or communal), or to obtain the diagnosis necessary to effect a cure. Usually it is the shaman who makes the journey, or the shaman may send the soul of the patient; music is played to guide or accompany the traveller. The nature of the music differs from place to place: among the Petalangan in mainland Riau, it is drumming played by two musicians, one at either end of a long drum; among the Kanayatn in West Kalimantan and the Benuaq in East Kalimantan it is played on a gong-chime ensemble, to which the Dusun Deyah of South Kalimantan add a two-string plucked lute (kacapi); and among the Ot Danum in West and Central Kalimantan it is singing (timang) accompanied by hourglass drums. The unifying feature of this music is that it consists of many discrete pieces (such as melodies, songs or drum-rhythms), each appropriate to a specific stage of the journey. The term for the shamanistic rites is often belian or a cognate.

In widely scattered regions of Indonesia, bamboo flutes have, in addition to their use in many forms of secular music, associations with magic, healing and esoteric practices. In parts of the north coast of Irian Jaya, flutes are associated with men's secret initiation rites; women traditionally may not play them or even see them. Among the Toraja in South Sulawesi, flute ensembles play for curing and to avert disease. In Sumatra (among, for example, the Minangkabau, Petalangan and Toba), solo flutes are sometimes used to cast spells, particularly for love magic.

The Muslim music complex. Indonesia has the largest Muslim population of any nation in the world, generally estimated at 85–90% of the nation's total population. In Muslim communities all across the country, types of devotional, quasi-devotional and secular performance involving music are found, exhibiting similar traits everywhere (here, ‘devotional’ music is that performed at explicitly religious gatherings, in the mosque or in a public space or private home). For the most part, these Muslim genres show little influence of local musical traditions.

Since at least the 1500s, there has been a strong component of Sufi mysticism in Indonesian Islam, particularly in rural areas, where it has often blended with indigenous and Hindu-Buddhist mystical and magical beliefs. Some forms of Muslim devotional music have clear links to Sufism; others may derive from other strains of popular Islam, probably again with Sufi elements. The very idea of devotional music (as distinguished from Qur’anic recitation or the recitation of poems in praise of Muhammad, both not considered as music by Muslim definition) belongs in Indonesia to popular Islam (if not Sufism) and is mistrusted by the orthodox. Clearly of Sufi origin are the use in devotional service of group singing and chanting of Arabic verbal and melodic formulae (usually called dikir or zikir), group singing of Arabic poems (qasidah), and the openness in these devotions to instrumental music (typically untuned percussion), dance and ecstatic or trance states. These traits may be found individually or in combination; often their origin in Sufi practice is unacknowledged and perhaps not recognized.

The most common forms of Muslim devotional music in Indonesia make use of singing by a soloist and a chorus of men or women (but not both) singing in heterophonic unison. The singers often dance in sitting, kneeling or standing positions. The singing and dancing are often accompanied by a group of instrumentalists playing frame drums in interlocking rhythms, and melodic instruments are not present. Examples of such genres are salawatan, hadrah and rudat or rodat in Java and Madura, dikie rabano in West Sumatra, butabuh in Lampung, and similar genres in Sulawesi and elsewhere. Poems in praise of Muhammad (the Burda of al-Busirī and the Mawlid of al-Barzanjī) may be recited to the accompaniment of frame drums (without dance). Samman, recorded in Aceh and Madura, reported from Halmahera and probably found in many other locations as well, reflects in its name its origin in practices of the Sammāniyya order of Sufism, an offshoot of Khalwatiyya introduced into northern Sumatra around 1800; it uses no drums, and its practitioners are likely to go into trance in the course of a performance.

Another devotional genre with clear links to Sufism is known in Indonesian as dabus (and variants of that term in local languages). All forms of Indonesian dabus involve (along with qasidah and dikir accompanied by frame drums) displays of invulnerability: dancers stab themselves with iron awls, but the faith and esoteric knowledge of the spiritual leader (khalifah or syeh) ensure that they are not harmed. In Halmahera, dabus is said by participants to derive from the practice of the Rifā‘iyya order (named after Ahmad ibn ‘Alī al-Rifā‘ī, 1106–82 ce); in Sumatra, a formal connection to Rifā‘iyya is not reported, but the frame drums used are called rapa‘i (an Indonesian pronunciation of al-Rifā‘ī's name). The West Javanese dabus groups studied by Vredenbregt (1973) were not Rifā‘iyya, but Qādiriyya.

Many of these devotional genres using frame drums or other percussion may also be performed as entertainment in secular contexts such as domestic festivals (weddings, circumcisions, inauguration of a new house), community celebrations and presentations for tourists and other outsiders (including audiences for cassette recordings or government-sponsored competitions). Secular content may be mixed with religious on such occasions, and the mood and style of the performance are likely to be more worldly and virtuoso. Genres such as indang or salawat dulang in West Sumatra are sometimes said to send the performers into trance, suggesting the mystical quest for religious ecstasy, but more often the aim in such performances is mainly entertainment.

In Sumatra these performances may involve coordinated upper-body dance movements by a group of kneeling or sitting dancers; this may originate in Sufi practice or may have been taken up into it and elaborated. The apparent concentration of this dance practice in Sumatra suggests that it is a local element that has influenced Muslim music. Another instance of local influence is seen in salawatan groups such as one in Trenggalek, East Java (reported by I.M. Harjito), which uses frame drums but not the interlocking rhythms typical of them in much Muslim music. Instead, the drums provide a four-square rhythmic framework clearly imitating the gong-punctuation of Javanese gamelan music, while a Javanese two-headed barrel drum is added for rhythmic interest. The Central Javanese secular genre santiswaran transfers whole pieces from Javanese gamelan to an ensemble of singers and frame drums, plus a Javanese drum.

Secular music and dance featuring the gambus, a round-backed, plucked lute with a skin soundtable, is widespread in Indonesian Muslim communities. The instrument is popularly regarded as originating in the Middle East (scholars agree, pointing to the Yemeni qanbūs as the probable ancestor). For this reason, the gambus is generally perceived in Indonesia as intrinsically Muslim (‘an icon of Arabic culture’; Capwell, 1995), and it is thus acceptable to many Muslims who would ordinarily frown upon secular entertainment. Some of the music and dance associated with gambus is also thought to be Middle Eastern (e.g. the zapin or jepen dance). Gambus players usually sing while playing, and they are often backed by a group of small two-headed frame drums (usually with the Arabic name marwas) played in interlocking rhythms. In rural areas, the song texts typically have little or no Islamic content.

In cities, accompaniment of the zapin dance is often taken over by orchestras called orkes gambus, which replace the rural gambus with the wood-faced Middle-Eastern ‘ūd and add violins, keyboards and other instruments (for further information on this and other urban popular musics targeting a Muslim audience, see §VIII, 1 below).

The European music complex. The idiom and instruments of European music have spread through Indonesia in three forms: popular music, the music of military bands and the music of the Christian church.

Initially, in the 19th century and before, the impact of this music was felt primarily among the relatively few Indonesians in close contact with Europeans: ‘native administrators’ and others wealthy enough to adopt elements of European life-style, Eurasians, soldiers in the colonial army, students (necessarily from well-connected families) in Dutch-language schools and the small group of Indonesian Christians (consisting at that time mainly of Ambonese, Manadonese and Toba Batak). In the 20th century, commercial recording, radio and television broadcasting and the broader dissemination of Christianity have spread European music much more widely through the country. The impact is twofold: on the one hand, European music genres and musical idioms are often adopted wholesale, producing hymns, popular songs and patriotic anthems (including the national anthem, Indonesia Raya) that are composed by Indonesians but are in their music essentially European. On the other hand, many hybrid forms have sprung up, combining elements of European and one or another form of Indonesian music.

In popular music, one such hybrid is kroncong (see §VIII, 1 below) or its South Sulawesi version, gitar los quin. Another is katreji, a genre of popular dance music in Maluku, using European dance forms such as polka and waltz (the name of the genre is an adaptation of ‘quadrille’). The instrumentation includes one (or more) violins, guitars (among them possibly a Hawaiian guitar), ukulele and local drums, with performances featuring a person calling out the movements (Gieben, Heijnen and Sapuletej, 1984, pp.95–6).

The solo acoustic guitar is ubiquitous in cities and towns. The basic instrument of regional lagu daerah (see §VIII, 1 below) and Western-model popular music, the guitar has also acquired, in some regions, repertories of strophic singing (usually with verses traded between male and female soloists). Often the melodies to which the verses are sung are in a minor tonality; this, like the song form itself, may be an instance of influence from the local music culture. One melodic strophe is repeated (typically without refrain or contrasting melody) throughout a song, which can continue for 20 to 30 minutes. The guitar accompaniment often consists of an ornamented version of the vocal line, without chordal support other than statement of tonic and dominant in the bass. A four-string, locally-made lute (jungga), modelled on and usually shaped like a guitar, is played for such songs in Sumba.

A different development is found in Irian Jaya, where string bands with numerous guitars, a gigantic two-string bass (laid out horizontally and struck or plucked with a stick), singers and an assortment of local single-headed drums play in the ‘pan-Pacific pop’ style for yospan (or yosim-pancar) dancing, a genre that developed in the late 1960s and has swept the province.

It should be noted that the guitar does not seem in these areas to have supplanted a pre-existing lute. In Irian Jaya or southern Sumatra, there is no report of an earlier lute (except, in Sumatra, the gambus, which has a very different idiom from that of the guitar). In Sulawesi and Sumba earlier lutes do exist, but their music (like that of the gambus) is thoroughly unlike that of the guitar. It appears that the guitar has generated its own repertories without weakening others.

The electric guitar has been taken into at least one ensemble in which its music shows little or no European character (aside from the timbre of the instrument). This is the Cirebonese tarling ensemble, which is named for its featured instruments, gitar and suling (flute), and usually also includes Cirebonese gongs and drums; its idiom is essentially that of Cirebonese gamelan music transferred to this mixed instrumentation.

European wind instruments were introduced to Indonesia by the Dutch and, in North Sumatra, by German missionaries (Boonzajer Flaes, 1993; Herbert and Sarkissian, 1997). They were played for military purposes, in the household orchestras of wealthy landowners and, in the late colonial period, in public stafmuziek performances for civilians. The musicians were mostly Indonesians or Eurasians, and through them the instruments moved out into Indonesian circles. In Batavia they gave rise to a hybrid tradition called tanjidor (from Portuguese tangedor, an instrumentalist) that still survives among the Betawi (the ethnically [mixed] Indonesians of the Jakarta region). The defining repertory of tanjidor is European marches and waltzes, but the ensemble also plays popular tunes, in a style sometimes showing the influence of 1920s and 30s jazz. Jazz influence is also heard in the lagu sayur repertory of the gambang kromong ensemble in Jakarta, which mixes Chinese, Sundanese and European instruments. Slightly to the east of Jakarta, in the Karawang region, another kind of tanjidor is found, also playing marches and waltzes but supplementing them with Sundanese repertory sounding exactly like Sundanese music played on the instruments of a wind band. Both the Betawi and the Sundanese tanjidor accept non-European instruments: Sundanese drums and gongs and, in the case of some tanjidor west of Jakarta, a Chinese fiddle of the erhu type.

Bands called tanji or tanjidor are also found in South Sumatra around Palembang, in South Sulawesi around Ujung Pandang and in West Kalimantan around Pontianak. The Pontianak variety nowadays plays marches, waltzes and the popular music genre, dangdut. A South Sulawesi tanji heard by Music of Indonesia researchers in 1996 consisted of two trumpets, a cornet, a snare drum and a bass drum with one cymbal attached on top. The cymbal was clashed with a metal pot lid and the heads of the snare drum were thick films (of the sort newspapers are printed from), while the repertory comprised pop tunes.

In North Sumatra, beginning in the second half of the 19th century, Lutheran missionaries from Germany promoted wind bands in Nias and among the Toba Batak. The bands are extinct in Nias but still common in North Sumatra, where they play for church services and at funerals and domestic festivals. Their music consists of Protestant hymns, Christmas carols and exuberant gondang melodies from the repertory of the tuned drum ensemble.

In eastern Indonesia, 19th-century Dutch missionaries relied on bamboo transverse flutes rather than wind bands. Flute orchestras playing Western hymns in standard harmony are now common in Christian communities in Maluku, Nusa Tenggara Timur, North Sulawesi and Irian Jaya. In some regions, from the 1860s onwards, bamboo ‘trumpets’ (korno or tenor) were added to these orchestras. In North Sulawesi bamboo imitations of other European brass instruments succeeded the korno, resulting in a full ‘bamboo brass band’. Subsequently the bamboo imitations were replaced in many ensembles with locally-made zinc or copper versions (Boonzajer Flaes, 1992 and 1993). The repertory and idiom of the North Sulawesi bands are thoroughly European; a local component of the repertory (comparable to the Toba gondang tunes in North Sumatra) is not found. In Madura, ngik-ngok ensembles including zinc horns play music of Madurese, not European type.

Christian hymns (along with secular popular music) have also been powerful disseminators of Western ideas of tuning, scale, harmony, melodic form and syntax. It should be noted, however, that outside of trained church choirs reading notation, harmony tends to be rudimentary, rarely going beyond parallel 3rds. It is tempting to look for the source of the homophonic style of central Flores and Kalimantan non-church singing in church music, but in fact the non-church singing is harmonically freer and more vivid than the church style. It is likely that some traditions of part-singing pre-date church influence and furthermore that these have in some cases mixed with church styles.

Indonesia, §I, 1: General: Cultural and musical geography

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Music in Bali, King KICC 5127 (1991)

Music of Madura, coll. J. Body and Y. Sukarno, Ode 1381 (1991)

Music of Indonesia, i–xx, coll. P. Yampolsky, Smithsonian Folkways SF 40055–7; SF 40420–9; SF 40441–7 (1991–9)

Bali: musiques du nord-ouest, coll. J. Fassola, Auvidis Ethnic B 6769 (1992)

Frozen Brass: Asia, coll. E. Heins, R. Boonzajer Flaes and G. Hobbel, Pan 2020 (1993)

Musik aus dem Bergland West-Neugineas: Irian Jaya, coll. A. Simon and others, Museum Collection Berlin CD 20 (1993)

Nias: Epic Songs and Instrumental Music, coll. E. Heins (Pan 2014 (1994)

Anthologie des musiques de Bali, i–iv, coll. C. Basset, Buda 92600-2, 92601-2, 92602-2, 92603-2 (1994–7)

Balaganjur of Pande and Angklung of Sidan, Bali, King KICC 5197 (1995)

Indonésie, Toraja: funérailles et fêtes de fécondité, coll. D. Rappoport, Chant du Monde CNR 2741004 (1995)

Sumatra: musiques des Batak, Inédit W 260061 (1995) [with commentary by A. Simon]

The Kenyah of Kalimantan (Indonesia), coll. V. Gorlinski, Musicaphon M 52576 (1995)

The Music of Lombok, King KICC 5198 (1995)

Jemblung and Related Narrative Traditions of Java, coll. J. Body and Y. Sukarno, Pan 2048 (1997)

Voices of Bali, King KICC 5227 (1997)

Be Not Afraid to Strike the Gong: the Music of Lombok, coll. C. Basile, Indonesian Arts Society 6 (1998)

Musik tradisi Nusantara/Traditional Music of the Archipelago, i–ii, coll. S. Hastanto, Jakarta: Direktorat Jendral Kebudayaan, Departemen Pendidikan dan Kebudayaan (1998)

The Music of Islam, xv:Muslim Music of Indonesia – Aceh and West Sumatra, coll. M. and H. Kartomi, Celestial Harmonies 14155-2 (1998)

Troubled Grass and Crying Bamboo: the Music of Roti, coll. C. Basile, Indonesian Arts Society 5 (1998)

Indonesia, §I: General

2. History.

On the basis of its contact with foreign cultures, Indonesian history can be divided into three somewhat overlapping historical periods: the contact with Hinduism/Buddhism (1st–14th century), the contact with Islam (15th century onwards) and the contact with Western cultures (16th century onwards). Indonesian music cultures reflect a musical heritage that is the product not only of interaction between indigenous and foreign cultural forces, but also of contact among Indonesian ethnic groups. Considering this diversity, it is to be expected that heterogeneity is the salient feature of Indonesian music.

(i) Pre-colonial.

Trade has long been a vehicle for Indonesians to have contact among themselves and with peoples from neighbouring areas. The rise of commerce at the beginning of the Christian era intensified Indonesia's intra- and inter-regional relationships. Contact with Indian culture was a major feature of this period, resulting in the Hinduization of many Indonesian islands and the rise of a number of Hinduized Indonesian empires after the 5th century. For example, the 7th-century Sriwijaya empire of Sumatra, besides being an important political and mercantile centre in the archipelago, was also known as a centre of Buddhism. In the absence of evidence, it is to be assumed that some forms of Buddhist music were practised there. Much pictorial evidence of music on temple walls (for example on the 9th-century Buddhist monument Borobudur) affords tantalizing glimpses of musical life (in the case of Borobudur, of the ancient Central Javanese Mataram empire). However, the absence of collaborative evidence does not allow definite conclusions about the music actually practised there.

As the centre of power moved to East Java (10th–15th centuries), more is revealed about the impact of Indian culture on Javanese religion and literature, including the creation of kakawin sung-poetry, a localized form of Indian poetry. In spite of the strength of the Hinduization of Indonesia, however, traces of Indian music in Indonesian music traditions are limited. Instead, this period is characterized by musical developments with distinctive and localized Indonesian characteristics.

Among the many kinds of musical instruments, the bronze gong has had an important role in Indonesian music; indeed, the onomatopoeic word ‘gong’ may be of Javanese origin. However, lack of evidence has obscured the origins of the bronze gong. It is well known that the Bronze drum was the earliest bronze instrument in South-east Asia, originating from the Dong-son culture in Vietnam long before the Christian era. When it arrived in the Indonesian islands, however, its musical function diminished, and it changed to become a ritual object.

Early evidence of gongs of different sizes can be found in drawings on the walls of 14th-century East Javanese temples. In some old Javanese literature, the gong is often mentioned as part of small ensembles. Some literature dating from the 12th to 16th centuries – such as the Bharatayuda, Wretasancaya and Wangbang Wideya – mention small gongs in ensembles for accompanying wayang puppet performance. Other instruments in these ensembles included percussion instruments (salunding metallophones and kemanak, bronze banana-shaped idiophones) and flutes. Such soft-sounding ensembles, often with singing and sometimes with string instruments, were considered ‘indoor’ ensembles, while loud processional ensembles consisting of gongs and other percussion instruments (sometimes with wind instruments) were considered ‘outdoor’ ensembles.

Eventually, gongs became important symbols of power and wealth among Javanese rulers. An early traveller to Java in 1605 describes processional music played before the ruler of Banten (West Java), which consisted of 10 to 12 ‘copper pans’. The traveller also pointed out that the principal music of the ruler consisted of huge ‘pans’. A crude drawing by the Dutch engraver of the royal palace of Banten in 1596 confirms the existence of such an ensemble, consisting of four large hanging gongs and two sets of four gong kettles. Another drawing of a similar ensemble in Tuban (East Java) in 1599 shows it being used to accompany an equestrian tournament.

Subsequently, the gong ensemble developed into a more elaborate orchestra. In the mid-17th century, the Dutch trading ambassador to the Mataram kingdom, Rijklef van Goens, describes a larger gong ensemble in the Mataram court, consisting of 20 to 30 or even 50 small and large gongs. The ensemble's function was to accompany the appearance of the king, processions, equestrian tournaments and perhaps also battle. Van Goens also mentions an ensemble consisting of many small gongs, flute and string instruments: there is a possibility it may have been an early version of the present-day gamelan ensemble.

Beginning in the 12th century, Java became one of the most important political and mercantile centres in the region. Particularly important for this discussion is the 14th-century Hindu-Javanese Majapahit kingdom, whose hegemonic territory included many Indonesian islands. The contact of the centre of Java with South Kalimantan in this period resulted in the introduction of Javanese gamelan, dance and wayang performance there. There was also intensive contact between Java and Bali, due to the expansion of Java's centre and the flight of Hinduized Javanese to Bali after the encroachment of Islam into Java in the 15th century. There are some instruments depicted on the walls of the 14th-century Panataran temple in East Java that, while their traces can no longer be found in Java, still exist in Bali. It has been suggested that some contemporary Balinese ensembles (including gamelan salunding and the gambuh ensemble for the dance drama of the same name) originated in Java, although supporting evidence is hard to find. Whatever musics were transferred to Bali from Java were made to fit with local tastes.

Java has long been known for its gong manufacturing. A 16th-century traveller reported that gongs from Java were exported to other Indonesian islands, including Sumatra, Kalimantan, Sulawesi, Maluku and the Lesser Sunda islands. In these locations (as in Java) the gong was treated as a valuable commodity, a symbol of wealth and power. However, local instruments with more accessible materials of construction were used more frequently in these islands.

Ensembles with bronze instruments in other islands did not develop to the degree of the sophistication of Javanese and Balinese gamelan. Generally, when gongs are used in such ensembles, a set of small gongs provides an short melodic ostinato, accompanied by other instruments. The Dutch traveller Francois Valentijn, who spent nine years in Ambon in the late 17th century, witnessed such an ensemble in Maluku. In a brief report he mentions the tataboang (a set of five or six small gongs) playing in a bar of 16 beats, punctuated by a larger gong every half-bar with the accompaniment of tifa (drum). He also mentions a dance accompanied by gong and rebana (a frame drum associated with Islam), the use of the latter instrument indicating some contact between the islands and Islam.

The spread of Islam and the establishment of Islamic states throughout Indonesia from the 15th century onwards made possible the introduction and localization of Islamic music. In many instances, the rebana was incorporated. The dominance of Sufism in the early Islamization of Indonesia resulted in a positive stance towards music (according to Sufism, music could be used as conduit to communicate with God).

It should be noted that the establishment of the influential Islamic harbour kingdoms in Mallaca in the 15th century brought Sumatra and islands in its vicinity under the suzerainty of Malay rulers. This resulted in the adaptation of Malay dances and music in Sumatra, including the establishment of nobat, a court ensemble, in a number of Sumatran courts. Consisting chiefly of wind instruments (nafiri and sarunai) and drums, nobat, according to the early 17th-century Sejarah Melayu (‘Malay Annals’), was first constituted in Sumatra by the Queen of Bintan.

(ii) Colonial.

In many traditional cultures, the introduction of European music into the archipelago brought about syncretic dynamism in musical repertories, ensembles and ideologies for centuries to come. This can be seen either as the result of a European ‘invasion’ or as an inevitable outcome of colonial Indonesian society. In some instances, European culture had no apparent impact on Indonesian music. For example, because of geographical isolation, indigenous musics in many small communities in upland areas and in remote islands retained their indigenous features. In the period under discussion, Islamic music continued to expand, interacting with regional musics and developing a variety of hybrid ensembles and repertories.

During the arrival of Western cultures, consisting of the periods of trade domination (16th–19th centuries) and colonization (19th–early 20th centuries), three types of Western music were introduced in the archipelago: church, secular and military. European missionaries first introduced church music in the eastern Indonesian islands in the 16th century, and later in other islands. Besides serving the needs of Europeans, church music was used to convert inhabitants, although Christianity never attained a stronghold in the archipelago.

Along with church music, Europeans also brought secular music with them. Portuguese and later Dutch overlords and colonial officials in the 17th to 19th centuries retained their own slave musicians who performed European folk and art music repertories on European string and wind instruments. To secure their trade and political domination, traders (later colonizers) brought military forces, and with them, European-style military bands.

Eventually European secular and military music played important roles in the lives of both Europeans and Indonesian aristocracy. For example, in Batavia (now Jakarta) and its vicinity, music was ubiquitous in European households as well as in concert halls, clubs and theatres. In the courts of Yogyakarta and Surakarta, European music became an integral part of Javanese court life, complementing the existing gamelan music. It not only accompanied European social dancing when the king held receptions for his European guests, but was also played in other court ceremonies, frequently simultaneously or in alternation with gamelan.

Among the indigenized Western musics, the most popular and long-lasting genre is kroncong, which traces its development back to the introduction of Portuguese music in the 16th century (see §VIII, 1 below). Initially consisting chiefly of string instruments, the kroncong ensemble and its music spread throughout many Indonesian cities, its popularity partly a result of its incorporation of regional musical styles.

Indigenized forms of Western musical ensembles appear in various pockets of the archipelago. In Sumatra, a brass band has featured in various rites-of-passage in the Batak Christian community. Among the Minahasans of Sulawesi, the European brass band has been adopted and evolved through various phases, manifesting itself in a variety of ensembles in which bamboo instruments replace some of the original brass instruments. Among the Betawi of West Java, the tanjidor ensemble is also an adaptation of the European brass band, incorporating Sundanese gamelan instruments. Similarly, the bheru ensemble (also known as ngik-ngok) in the island of Madura uses a mixture of locally-made European brass instruments and snare drums with a few indigenous Madurese instruments. In yet another example, the prajuritan military music of the Yogyakarta court is a combination of European drums and fifes with Javanese cymbals, wind instruments, drums and gongs. In the same court, European drums and wind instruments join the gamelan ensemble in accompanying several court dances.

In some instances, colonialism channelled the development of indigenous music in certain directions. For example, in order to ‘compete’ with colonial might, Javanese court musicians created gamelan ensembles with larger and more numerous instruments. In Bali, through diminishing the power of the Balinese aristocracy, colonialism contributed to the democratization of gamelan music. Consequently, a wealth of new dances and musical forms emerged, including the well-known gamelan gong kebyar.

Dutch scholar-officials, residing in Indonesia in the 19th and early 20th centuries, initiated the formal study of Indonesian culture and music. They also introduced Indonesian intellectuals to European modes of thought. In Java, this exposure to European thinking led the Javanese élite to consider gamelan as ‘high’ culture that was compatible with European art music. Notation for gamelan, which was introduced in the late 19th century and modelled after Western notation, reinforced this view.

At the turn of the 20th century, the colonial government introduced Western music lessons in Dutch schools attended by Dutch children and children of the Indonesian élite. In particular, the teaching of Western music at schools for Indonesian teachers contributed significantly to its proliferation. Concurrently, other Western music genres, popular and classical, were introduced through films, music books and private lessons.

(iii) Post-colonial.

The rise of nationalism at the beginning of the 20th century led to the independence of Indonesia from the Dutch in the late 1940s. Indonesian nationalists were keenly aware that hundreds of ethnic groups, each with their distinctive cultural traditions, would have to be united under the newly-constructed Indonesian nation-state. The quest for national unity and identity was of critical importance, and its impact was reflected in music. On the one hand, nationalism inspired Indonesians to recognize the role played by regional musics in Indonesia's identity. On the other hand, Western music, which had long been known by most Indonesians (regardless of their ethnic backgrounds), played an important role in this search for national identity. The creation of many patriotic songs (including the national anthem) in Western musical style was in many senses a natural outgrowth of the national awakening.

Indonesians were caught between the desire to identify themselves with regional arts and the need to create a unified pan-Indonesian art. Responding to this dilemma, Indonesian nationalists and intellectuals promoted various ideas, ranging from the notion that national art should consist of the pinnacle of regional music (namely Javanese court gamelan) to the suggestion that Indonesia's national music should be a form of indigenized Western music, such as kroncong. The definition and redefinition of what constitutes ‘national’ music continues to influence government policy in the construction of Indonesia's national image through the performing arts.

It was with the backdrop of this dilemma that state-sponsored conservatories and academies of Western and traditional Indonesian music were founded in Java and Bali in the 1950s and 60s (similar schools were founded in Sumatra and Sulawesi in the 70s). Each school of traditional music focusses on the music of the region where the school is located. Yet, ideally, the establishment of the schools was also intended to foster the creation of Indonesian ‘national’ music.

Aside from the continuing study of traditional musics, in the 1970s some of the faculty members and students of the schools became the proponents of new music composed on their regional instruments. Along with other Indonesian composers, who received training in the West or in Indonesia, they have performed this music primarily in government-sponsored festivals.

Meanwhile, forms of indigenized Western popular music have continued to increase, despite its restriction in the early period of Indonesian independence. The development of inexpensive audio-cassette recording in the late 1960s has led to greater dissemination of these musics. In addition, new genres have been born, such as the regionally-based Sundanese jaipongan and dangdut (a hybrid of Western rock and Indian film music; see §VIII, 1(v) below). The forces of nationalism, government policy and tourism also bring about new performance contexts, which in turn inevitably shape the aesthetic and the content of music.

Indonesia, §I, 3: Instruments

BIBLIOGRAPHY

D. Barbosa: Livro em que dá relaço de que viu e ouviu no Oriente Duarte Barbosa (Lisbon, 1518; Eng trans., ed. M. Longworth Dames, 1918–21/R, as The Book of Duarte Barbosa: an Account of the Countries Bordering on the Indian Ocean and their Inhabitants)

E. Scott: An Exact Discovrse of the Subtilties, Fashishions, Pollicies, Religion and Ceremonies of the East Indians, as well Chyneses as Iauans, There Abyding and Dweling (London, 1606/R)

F. Valentijn: Oud en Nieuw Oost Indien, ii (Dordrecht, 1724–6)

R. van Goens: ‘Reijsbeschrijving van den weg uijt Samarang nae De Konincklijke Hoofdplaets Mataram Mitsgaders de Zeeden, Gewoonten ende Regeringe van den Sousouhounan Groot Machtichste Koningk van't Eijlant Java’, Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indie, iv (1856), 307–67

G.P. Rouffaer and J.W. Ijzerman, eds.: De Eerste Schipvaart der Nederlanders naar Oost-Indie onder Cornelis de Houtman, 1595–1597, i, ('s-Gravenhage, 1915–19)

J. Kunst: De toonkunst van Java (The Hague, 1934; Eng. trans., rev. 2/1949 as Music in Java, enlarged 3/1973 by E.L. Heins)

J.A. Dungga and L. Manik: Musik di Indonesia dan beberapa persoalannya [Music in Indonesia and several issues] (Jakarta, 1952)

A.K. Mihardja, ed.: Polemik kebudayaan [Polemic on culture] (Jakarta, 1954, 2/1977)

H.R. van Heekeren: The Bronze-Iron Age of Indonesia ('s-Gravenhage, 1958)

C.C. Brown, ed.: Sejarah melayu or Malay Annals (Kuala Lumpur, 1970)

P.J. Zoetmulder: Kalangwan: a Survey of Old Javanese Literature (The Hague, 1974)

L.E. Sumaryo: ‘Beberapa catatan mengenai pembinaan musik di Indonesia’ [Some documentation on the creation of Indonesian music], Sewindu LPKJ: Lembaga Pendidikan Kesenian Jakarta 1978, ed. E. Sedyawati (Jakarta, 1978), 118–33

S. Hardjana, ed.: Enam tahun Pekan Komponis Muda (1979–1985) [Six years of the Young Composers Festival] (Jakarta, 1986)

A. Pasaribu: Analisis musik Indonesia [Analysis of Indonesian Music] (Jakarta, 1986)

J.J. Ras: Hikajat bandjar (The Hague, 1986)

A. Reid: Southeast Asia in the Age of Commerce 1450–1680, i (New Haven and London, 1988)

M. Ramstedt: ‘Indonesian Cultural Policy in Relation to the Development of Balinese Performing Arts’, Balinese Music in Context: a Sixty-Fifth Birthday Tribute to Hans Oesch, ed. D. Schaareman (Basle, 1992), 59–84

I. Skog: North Borneo Gongs and the Javanese Gamelan: Studies in Southeast Asian Gong Traditions (Stockholm, 1993)

M. Kartomi: ‘Is Maluku Still Musicological terra incognita? An Overview of the Music-Cultures of the Province of Maluku’, Journal of Southeast Asian Studies, xxv (1994), 141–71

J. Lindasy: ‘Cultural Policy and Performing Arts in Southeast Asia’, Bijdragen tot de taal-, land- en volkenkunde, cli (1995), 656–71

Sumarsam: Gamelan: Cultural Interaction and Musical Development in Central Java (Chicago, 1995)

R.A. Sutton: ‘Performing Arts and Cultural Politics in South Sulawesi’, Bijdragen tot de taal-, land- en volkenkunde, cli (1995), 672–99

P. Yampolsky: ‘Forces for Change in the Regional Performing Arts of Indonesia’, Bijdragen tot de taal-, land- en volkenkunde, cli (1995), 700–25

M. Kartomi: ‘The Royal Nobat Ensemble of Indragiri in Riau, Sumatra, in Colonial and Pre-Colonial Times’, GSJ, l (1997), 3–15

P. Yampolsky: disc notes, Music of Indonesia 14: Lombok, Kalimantan, Banyumas – Little-known Forms of Gamelan and Wayang, Smithsonian Folkways SFW CD 40441 (1997)

P. Yampolsky: disc notes, Music of Indonesia 19: Music of Maluku – Halmahera, Buru, Kei, Smithsonian Folkways SFW CD 40476 (1997)

Indonesia, §I: General

3. Instruments.

The vast and diverse instrumentarium in Indonesia is particularly strong in percussion and flutes, but most of the main categories of instruments are well represented. Trumpets and keyboards are rare in non-European form, while only one harp is reported, and lyres and bagpipes are wholly absent.

The principal surveys and catalogues covering a wide geographical range within Indonesia are Sachs (2/1923/R), Huyser (1928–9), Balfoort (1930–31), Halusa (1938), Ijzerdraat (1954) and Kartomi (1985). Studies with a narrower geographical focus include Kunst's valuable summary of literary and iconographic sources on Javanese instruments before the coming of Islam (1927, 2/1968); Kaudern (1927), focussing on Central and North Sulawesi; Kunst on Nias (1939), Flores (1942) and Irian Jaya (1967); Shelford (1904) and Grabowsky (1905) on parts of Borneo; and Brandts Buys and Brandts Buys-van Zijp on Madura (1928) and on noisemakers and other folk instruments of Java (1924–33 and 1925–6). Kunst's Nias book (1939) has particularly useful maps showing the distribution of certain instruments throughout the archipelago.

(i) Idiophones.

Bronze drums were introduced into Indonesia from the Dongson culture of northern Vietnam during the last few centuries bce, perhaps around 200 bce (Bellwood, 1985, 2/1997). The drums were played at festivities and rituals. Examples have been found in many parts of the archipelago, particularly in Java, Sumatra and southern Maluku; local manufacture had begun in Bali by the first two centuries ce. In Alor, small forms of these drums were in use in to the 20th century; some (if not all) were manufactured in Gresik, East Java.

Hood (1980) has speculated that the practice of playing kettle-gongs in sets (gong-chimes) derives from the ancient use of bronze drums in the same manner. Be that as it may, gong-chimes with bossed gongs are common in most parts of Indonesia except Irian Jaya. In some cases the gongs are played melodically, whereas in others they provide a repeating rhythmic pattern (see §1(iii)(b) above). The gongs hang from a crossbar, rest in frames, or are hand-held. They are often played in ensembles with larger hanging gongs or drums or both; non-metallic melodic instruments may be added. The famous gamelan orchestras of Java and Bali (also Lombok and South Kalimantan) are the most elaborate Indonesian forms of gong-chime ensemble. In contrast to bossed gongs, flat-gong sets are very rare in Indonesia; perhaps the only example is the gerantung bosi of the Pakpak in North Sumatra.

While instruments with wooden bamboo keys are widespread in Indonesia, keyed metallophones occur almost without exception only in gamelan cultures and are thus restricted to Java, Bali and their cultural extensions. (In most cases they are played only in gamelan, though in Bali they may also be played on their own in duos or quartets.) There are two types of keyed metallophone: the saron type, with keys resting on cushions over a trough resonator, and the gendèr type, with ‘floating’ keys strung on cords over tube resonators. Instruments of the gendèr type but with only one or two keys suspended over a pot or box resonator are used as gong-substitutes in Java. Cymbals and various small metal percussion instruments are also found mainly in gamelan cultures; an exception is the European iron triangle, which occurs in certain violin-led ensembles (gandrung Banyuwangi in East Java; katreji in Maluku; it is also reported in early kroncong (see §VIII, 1 below).

Wooden and bamboo xylophones are common as solo instruments for private amusement, in xylophone ensembles (Bali, Banyumas) and as members of mixed ensembles with no dominant instrument-type (e.g. gambang kromong in the Jakarta region; Central Javanese gamelan; the Kenyah jatung utang ensemble along with plucked lute; and the Toba Batak gondang hasapi).

R. Shelford: ‘An Illustrated Catalogue of the Ethnographical Collection of the Sarawak Museum, i: Musical Instruments’, Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, no.40 (1904), 1–59

F. Grabowsky: ‘Musikinstrumente der Dajaken Südost-Borneos’, Globus, xxxvii/7 (1905), 102–5

C. Sachs: Die Musikinstrumente Indiens und Indonesiens (Berlin and Leipzig, 2/1923/R)

J. Brandts Buys and A. Brandts Buys-van Zijp: ‘Snorrepijperijen’, Djawa, iv (1924), 18–28; vi (1926), 328–32; xi (1931), 133–46; xii (1932), 50–70; xiii (1933), 205–32, 341–71

J. Brandts Buys and A. Brandts Buys-van Zijp: ‘Toeters en piepers’, Djawa, v (1925), 311–19; vi (1926), 27–31, 76–82, 318–28

W. Kaudern: Ethnographical Studies in Celebes: Results of the Author's Expedition to Celebes 1917–1920, iii: Musical Instruments in Celebes (Göteborg, 1927)

J. Kunst and R. Goris: Hindoe-Javaansche muziekinstrumenten(Batavia,1927; Eng. trans., 1963, rev. 2/1968 as Hindu-Javanese Musical Instruments)

J. Brandts Buys and A. Brandts Buys-van Zijp: De toonkunst bij de Madoereezen (Weltevreden, 1928)

J. Huyser: ‘Indonesische muziekinstrumenten’, Nederlandsch-Indië Oud en Nieuw, xiii (1928–9), 235–47

D. Balfoort: ‘De indonesische instrumenten in het muziekhistorisch museum Scheurleer te ’s-Gravenhage’, Nederlandsch-Indië Oud en Nieuw, xv (1930–31), 33–43, 153–7, 244–7, 307–19

K. Halusa: ‘De musicologische verzameling’, Jaarboek van het Koninklijk Bataviaasch Genootschap van Kunsten en Wetenschappen, vi (1938), 167–227

J. Brandts Buys and A. Brandts Buys-van Zijp: ‘Omtrent de rebab’, Djawa, xix (1939), 368–78

J. Kunst: Music in Nias (Leiden, 1939)

J. Kunst: Music in Flores (Leiden, 1942)

T. Norlind: ‘Die indonesischen Gambus-Instrumente’, Ethnos, xviii/3–4 (1953), 143–54

B. Ijzerdraat: Bentara senisuara Indonesia [Marshals of the Indonesian art of sound] (Jakarta,1954)

J. Kunst: Music in New Guinea (The Hague, 1967)

R. Schefold: ‘Schlitztrommeln und trommelsprache in Mentawai’, Zeitschrift für Ethnologie, xcviii (1973), 36–72

M. Hood: The Evolution of Javanese, i:Music of the Roaring Sea (Wilhelmshaven,1980)

P. Bellwood: Prehistory of the Indo-Malaysian Archipelago (Honolulu, 1985, 2/1997)

M. Kartomi: Musical Instruments of Indonesia (Melbourne, 1985)

A. Bernet Kempers: The Kettledrums of Southeast Asia (Rotterdam, 1988)

D. Lawing: ‘Lagu-lagu dan alat musik Dayak Kenyah Leppo' Ma'ut’ [Melodies and musical instruments of the Kenyah Leppo' Ma'ut Dayak], Kebudayaan dan pelestarian alam: penelitian interdisipliner di pedalaman Kalimantan, ed. C. Eghenter and B. Sellato (Jakarta, 1999), 505–21

Indonesia, §II: Bali, Lombok and Sumbawa

II. Bali, Lombok and Sumbawa

1. Bali.

2. Lombok.

3. Sumbawa.

1. Bali.

(ii) Musical principles.

(iii) Gamelan ensembles.

(iv) Vocal genres.

(v) Dance and theatre.

(vi) Wayang kulit.

(i) Introduction.

The island of Bali is home to one of the last remaining Hindu cultures that once were widespread in the Indonesian archipelago. Although small (5620 km², population almost 3 million) and close to Java, Bali maintains a strong cultural identity. Nine distinct regions, roughly based on former kingdoms, have fostered the development of many distinct musical traditions and cultural practices due to geographic and political boundaries. The predominent religion, Hindu-Dharma Bali, or Agama Tirtha (holy-water religion), practised by approximately 90% of the Balinese population, is a synthesis of indigenous animistic religion with Saivite-Buddhist traditions of India, which mostly reached Bali via Java. These links are demonstrated by the many languages and literary traditions kept alive in performing arts. Gunung Agung, the largest volcano on the island, is considered the Indian seat of the gods, Mahameru, transported to Bali. The four cardinal directions are orientated towards and away from the spiritually powerful mountain, determining the placement of all ritual activities, including music and dance.

Minority groups include the Sasak, who migrated from the neighbouring island of Lombok and, for the most part, practise a form of Islam. Many live in eastern Bali (which has had the most contact with Lombok, beginning in the 1700s) and maintain many musical practices such as the use of the double-reed aerophone, preret, and wayang Sasak (shadow puppetry accompanied by a bamboo flute ensemble). There is also a substantial Chinese population.

Apart from Hindu-Dharma Bali, other religions include forms of Islam, Christianity and Buddhism. Followers of these faiths live completely divorced from Balinese Hindu culture and usually live in individual communities. There is also a substantial Chinese population that practises Confucianism. The Indonesian government’s pancasila policy recognizes only monotheistic religions, thus forcing Balinese Hindus to alter their views on the Hindi Pantheon and marginalizing other religions (such as Confucianism, which has no deity).

The performing arts are an indispensable component of Balinese religious rituals and are promoted, supported and guarded by Indonesian and Balinese government institutions. Reinforced by the large numbers of tourists they attract, the arts continue to be viewed by the Balinese as one of the most important aspects of their heritage. Music, dance and theatre are virtually inseparable. Poetry is always sung, and narratives are enacted through music, dance and shadow puppetry. The many diverse ensembles and theatrical genres are closely linked with literary traditions of different periods; however, innovation is an intrinsic part of Balinese tradition, reflecting adaptability and allowing for individual expression that perpetuates the relevance of Balinese cultural expressions.

Music is exclusively an ensemble tradition, reflecting the communally-organized society. Ensembles, collectively referred to as gamelan (or the Balinese term, gambelan), have historically served specific functions in religious ceremonies and (prior to their demise) in Balinese courts. At least 30 distinct types of ensemble have their own tuning, timbre, repertory size and function. A standard body of repertory exists in myriad versions and variants, owing to oral transmission and diverse regional styles and practices. Gamelan is mostly performed by men and boys; however, 17th-century manuscripts depict female court musicians, a practice that probably ended with the destruction of the courts in the Dutch conquest. At present there are some women's gamelan groups and women music students at government arts institutions. Gamelan music thrives outside institutions. Most villages possess communally-organized gamelan groups that perform for village ceremonial functions, some reaching professional status or employing professional musicians from elsewhere to direct and teach the groups.

(a) History.

Contact between Hindu-Javanese and Balinese courts began around the 9th century, with strong cultural exchange beginning in the 11th century (Kadiri period), when the Balinese-born King Erlangga became ruler of East Java. Stories glorifying his life became central to many of the ‘classical’ dance-dramas still performed (calonarang, legong), while some of the oldest Balinese ensembles date from this period. In the mid-14th century the Javanese minister Gajah Madah defeated a Balinese king, causing Bali to become part of Majapahit, Java's last Hindu empire. When Majapahit fell to the Muslim kingdom of Demak in the late 15th century, many Hindu-Javanese courtiers fled to Bali, where Javanese-modelled courts already existed. Following the fall of Majapahit, the eastern Balinese kingdom of Gelgel (late 14th century to the 17th) is regarded as the pinnacle of Balinese arts, and the origins of most musical traditions are traced to this time.

In many respects, Bali's cultural development has been independent of Java's, although elements of Hindu-Javanese culture were adopted in Bali and supported by the courts, including aspects of gamelan, dance and literature. Bali is seen as a ‘living museum’ of early Indian Sanskrit literature, which is still in use in rituals performed by Balinese Brahman priests. It is also the repository for 10th–15th-century Old Javanese (Kawi) literature, now extinct in Java, but preserved in Bali on palm-leaf manuscripts (lontar) and kept alive through sacred vocal chanting, sung recitation in poetry-reading clubs and in many theatrical genres such as wayang kulit (shadow puppet theatre; see §(vi) below).

Dutch colonization of Bali, which began in the mid-19th century and spread throughout the island by the early 20th century, caused a shift in patronage from the courts to local villages and the Dutch government. Court gamelan were sold to villages, where many gamelan clubs (sekaha) were formed. This period is recognized as a time when music flourished throughout the island. The Dutch instituted a policy of preservation of Balinese culture and opened Bali to the first Western tourists (see Picard, 1990, 1996). During the 1930s foreign scholars began to study Balinese traditions, among them the Canadian composer Colin McPhee, who conducted extensive research (McPhee, 1966/R).

After Indonesian independence, two government institutions were created that had tremendous impact on the performing arts. The music conservatory Konservatori Karawitan Indonesia (KOKAR), founded in 1960, later became the music high school Sekolah Menengah Karawitan Indonesia (SMKI). In 1967 the dance academy Akademi Seni Tari Indonesia (ASTI) was founded, later to become Sekolah Tinggi Seni Indonesia (STSI), which now encompasses music, dance, theatre and visual arts. These institutions have played major roles in supporting and reviving performing arts genres all over Bali, as well as introducing ‘standardized’ versions of genres. Performers from these institutions are renowned as some of Bali's finest and are often sent abroad on diplomatic missions.

(b) Performance contexts.

The Pancayadnya (five ceremonial categories), which comprise all Balinese religious ceremonies, honour the living (manusayadnya, rites of passage including weddings and tooth filings), the dead (pitrayadnya, e.g. cremations), the gods (dewayadnya, e.g. temple ceremonies), sages (resiyadnya) and demons (bhutayadnya). Music plays a powerful role of accompanying ceremonies: gamelan ensembles, genres and repertories are associated with each category and with functions within each category, depending on, for example, the ensemble's age, tuning system, timbre and dynamic range. Furthermore, many large ceremonies contain a sequence of rituals honouring each of the five categories. The choice for any given event is subject to tradition, local preference and to the availability of the ensemble and performers; in general, the older the genre, the more sacred and unchangeable it is.

The ceremonial soundscape comprises a blend of seemingly disparate yet essential musical genres. Often several gamelan play simultaneously, some accompanying sacred ritual dance (rejang) while others accompany dance-dramas or shadow puppetry or play instrumental music in close proximity to sacred vocal chanting, resulting in a sound-ideal of fullness and boisterousness (ramé). Its opposite, sepi (emptiness), is considered dangerous and is aesthetically and spiritually important only once a year on nyepi, a day of purification when no sound is made. Every village possesses several temples that celebrate their anniversaries (odalan, dewayadnya) every 210 days (one Balinese year) with elaborate ceremonies involving music, dance and theatre.

As a way of protecting the older sacred performing arts from being exploited by tourism, in 1971 a committee of artists, religious specialists and government officials proposed a classification system, organizing music, dance and theatre genres into three general categories, subject to regional variation. Wali (sacred) activities are integrated into rituals and take place in the innermost courtyard of the temple or house compound (closest to the sacred mountain) for an audience of gods; babali (ceremonial) activities occur in the middle courtyard, are for an audience of gods and humans and are not integrated into the ceremony, but are parallel to it; and balih-balihan (secular) activities are performed outside the temple or in an outer courtyard and are entertainment for humans. In practice these categories often overlap: the distinction between wali and bebali is sometimes irrelevant, and performance traditions may shift from one category to another (e.g. secular offering dances performed on a balih-balihan secular programme).

The 20th century saw an expansion of performance contexts, in particular with secular performances on proscenium stages. The art centre Werdi Budaya, opened in 1976, is a frequent venue for STSI students and faculty, for tourist performances and for the annual Bali Arts Festival (Pesta Kesenian Bali, instigated in 1979), a competition and exhibition of gamelan, dancers and artisans from all over the island. The major focus of the Bali Arts Festival is the gamelan festival, which promotes a competitive atmosphere and regional pride among gamelan groups and audience members. These performances are held in ‘battle of the bands’ format, with a gamelan group on either side of the stage. Repertory (which includes instrumental and dance pieces) must fit into the categories established by an official committee each year, and most pieces are newly composed for the occasion. The culmination of the festival (attended by up to 8000 people) involves the sendratari and drama gong dance-drama performances. Sendratari, an acronym of seni, drama and tari, (art, drama and dance) is a huge spectacle involving a narrator and hundreds of dancers and musicians. Drama gong is a dance-drama in which the actors speak, accompanied by gamelan gong. Aspects of these forms depart from traditional Balinese theatre and dance in their set scripts, choreographies and pieces (leaving little room for improvisation) and the playing-out of entire epic narratives in encapsulated form.

(d) Performing practice and musical structure.

(ii) Musical principles.

(a) Tuning systems.

(b) Notation.

(e) Kotekan.

(f) Form.

(a) Tuning systems.

Instruments are tuned in pairs, with one tuned slightly higher than other resulting in acoustic ‘beats’. When played together, the lower (pa)ngumbang (‘exhaler’) and the higher instrument (pa)ngisep (‘inhaler’), create a shimmering timbre, literally breathing life into the sound of the ensemble. There is no standardized tuning. All instruments of an ensemble are tuned together and do not match any other ensemble, giving them a unique character. However, every gongsmith (pandé) has his own conception about particular tuning and the intervals for each type of gamelan that fit into a generalized system. Tuning systems (saih, ‘sequence’) of four, five, six and seven pitches are named after the type of gamelan with which they are usually associated (e.g. saih gender after the gender wayang ensemble) or the number of pitches (e.g. saih pitu, a sequence of seven).

The terms slendro and pelog, (adopted from Javanese terminology where they describe five-tone and seven-tone tuning systems, respectively), are frequently used to classify scales that were not formerly grouped together but can be made to fit roughly into these two categories. Many gamelan tunings and vocal genres do not fit neatly into either system, however.

The rich modal possibilities inherent in seven-tone ensembles distinguish them from pentatonic gamelan. Modes of five main pitches (known as tekep, ‘covering’ of the holes of the suling flute, or patut, ‘agreement’) employ two extraneous tones (or pamero called bero, ‘false’) for colour and modulation purposes. A revived interest in seven-tone ensembles, such as the court ensemble, semar pagulingan, has instigated the creation of experimental seven-tone gamelan that are capable of producing both slendro and pelog scales such as gamelan semara dahana (or semarandana) and gamelan manikasanti (created by I Wayan Sinti).

Pentatonic tunings are the most prevalent; in the early 20th century, to facilitate the playing of complex figuration (and to avoid leaping over the unused pamero tones) many seven-tone gamelan were melted down and transformed into pentatonic gamelan.

Tuning can convey ritual meaning. The modes produced by the group of rare, seven-tone sacred ensembles have specific correlations with deities. The most prevalent tuning, the pentatonic pelog selisir of gong kebyar and balaganjur, is generally associated with the human and demonic realms. Slendro tuning of gender wayang and gamelan angklung is considered to connote sadness; it is a means of communicating with the spirit world and is used in rites of passage such as tooth filing and cremation ceremonies. Old treatises on music explain that for each pitch there is a corresponding deity, cardinal direction, colour etc.; usually male deities are associated with pelog and their female counterparts with the corresponding scale degrees in slendro, but for most musicians, this philosophy is not part of general musical awareness.

(b) Notation.

Most Balinese music is transmitted orally. Notation is rarely used in the transmission process and never in performance. However, versions of the notational system known as grantangan are used for preserving the skeletal pitches of long compositions. Syllables comprising the pitch notation systems are also used as vocalized mnemonics in teaching. There are several such systems (Table 1). The oldest, used in gamelan gambang and other seven-tone sacred ensembles, is derived from sacred vocal music notation in which the vowels of poetry are translated into musical pitches. The vowel sound in each word of text has a corresponding syllable representing a pitch that is played as a tone on a single octave metallophone. At the KOKAR music conservatory, notation systems (known as notasi ding dong and notasi KOKAR) devised in 1960 have become standard; occasionally cipher notation is also used. Drum patterns are also transmitted by rote using a system of mnemonics.

(c) Instruments.

Gamelan are comprised of gongs, metallophones, xylophones, gong-chimes, drums, cymbals, flutes and spiked fiddles in various combinations (Table 2). Materials of construction include bronze, iron, wood and bamboo. Gongs range in size from small to very large. Most are hung vertically and struck with a padded mallet and provide a framework that marks the form. Others are held horizontally, are struck with a hard mallet and provide secondary punctuation or serve as a time-keeper. Metallophones are in pairs and consist of two types: with keys suspended over bamboo resonators (e.g. gender), and with keys resting on trough resonators (e.g. gangsa jongkok). Each metallophone in a pair is precisely tuned slightly apart from the other to produce acoustic ‘beats’. Gong-chime instruments consist of a row of graduated tuned kettles, which are played either as a solo melodic leading instrument or by several people playing interlocked figuration. Various non-pitched idiophones, such as ceng-ceng (cymbals, large or small) or gentorak (bell tree), complement ensembles. Suling (flutes) are played using circular breathing to produce a continuous sound; the rebab (bowed spike-fiddle) is played only in soft ensembles, with a technique that differs from that of Javanese rebab. Various sizes of two-headed drums (kendang) are played with and without mallets (see also Gamelan, §I, 5(iv)).

	TABLE 2a: Gamelan ensembles and instrumentation

Ensemble and tuning	GAMBUH (seven-tone	SEMAR PAGULINGAN	PEJOGEDAN	GONG GEDE	GONG KEBYAR
			pelog)		(7- or 5-tone pelog)
				/PELAGONGAN
					(5-tone pelog: selisir
					or tembung)


Relationship to	Panji Malat (Kidung);
	vocal/text		tembang in
			Buleleng-Rembang


Colotomic instruments	kempur (medium-size,	kempur	kempur komodong	2 gong	gong
			hanging gong)	kajar		(box-resonated	kempur	kempur
		kajar (small horizontal	kemong (small hanging		keyed gong)	kempli (horizonta	klentong (?gong)
			gong)		gong)	kempli (here, two-key		l gong	kajar/kempli
		kelenang (small	kelenang		bamboo xylophone)	bende (horizontal
			horizntal gong)						gong)
		kenyir (three-key					ponggang (?)
			instrument)


Melody instruments	2–4 suling gambuh	2 gender gede	2 large rindik (bamboo			2 ugal (metallophone)
			(flutes)		(metallophone)		xylophone)			2 jegogan
		rebab (fiddle)	2 gender barangan	2 jegogan (bamboo			2 jublag
					(metallophone)		xylophone)			4 gangsa pemade
				2 jegogan (low-pitched	2 small rindik				(metallophone)
					metallophone)		(high-pitched			4 gangsa kantilan
				4 jublag		bamboo xylophone)				(metallophone)
					(middle-register
					metallophone)
				4 penyacah
					(metallophone, octave
					higher than jublag)
				4 kantilan
					(high-pitched
					metallophone)
				2 gangsa jongkok gede
					(metallophone)
				2 gangsa jongkok
					cenik (metallophone)


Secondary melody			suling (flute), rebab	suling			rebab
	instruments

Gong-chimes			trompong (row of 10			trompong gede	trompong
					gong kettles)			trompong barangan	reyong
								reyong


Agogic instruments	2 kendang gupek	2 kendang gupek	kendang	2 kendang (large	2 kendang (large
			(small drum)						drum)		drum)


Additional percussion	rincik (small cymbals)	rincik	rincik	ceng-ceng kopyak	ceng-ceng (cymbals)
			or rincik (four-key	gentorag				(large cymbals)
			instrument)
		2 kangsi (small
			cymbals)
		3 gumanak
			(idiophone)
		gentorag (bell tree)

TABLE 2b: Gamelan ensembles and instrumentation

Ensemble and tuning	ARJA/GAGUNTANGAN	ANGKLUNG (4-tone	GENDER WAYANG	GENDER WAYANG-
		(tuning?)		slendro derived)		saih gender (5-tone		BATEL saih gender (5-
						slendro)		tone slendro)


Relationship to	tembang macapat (pupuh)			accompanies dalang	accompanies dalang in
vocal/text		sung in Balinese by				in wayang parwa or		wayang ramayana or
		actors/dancers. Based on				parwa dance drama;		wayang wong dance drama
		Panji Malat. Kakawin and				played simultaneously
		Malat are sung by noble				in ceremonies with kidung
		character; gagendingan				or kakawin
		(popular and folksong)
		sung by servants and
		coarse charcters.


Colotomic instruments	guntang gede (bamboo	kempur			kempur
		idiochord)	tawa-tawa			klenang
	guntang kempur (bamboo		(horizontal gong)			kempli
		idiochord)					kajar
	guntang cenik (bamboo
		idiochord)
	guntang kajar (bamboo
		idiochord) or kajar
		(horizontal gong)
	klenang


Melody	1 or 2 suling	2 jegogan	2 or 4 gender (10-key	2 or 4 gender (10-key
	4–7 flutes				metallophone)		metallophone)


Secondary Melody			suling			suling, rebab


Elaboration			8–12 gangsa
				(metallophones)


			reyong (8 gong kettles)
				or ‘barbell’
			reyong for processions


Agogic instruments	2 kendang	2 kendang (small
				drums)


Additional percussion	ricik (small cymbals)	ceng-ceng			rincik
	tawa-tawa					gentorag

TABLE 2c: Gamelan instruments and their instrumentation

Ensemble and tuning	GAMBANG 7-tone pelog	SALUNDING 7-tone	LUANG (SARON) 7-tone	CARUK 7-tone pelog
		(saih gambang)		pelog		pelog

Relationship to	one note per syllable in	aslo based on kidung	one lontar containing	one note persyllable in the
vocal/text		the Kidung MS		chant		luang pieces (damaged in		Kidung MS corresponds
		corresponds to each				volcanic eruption)		to each saron beat;
		saron beat						possibly used to
								accompany kidung Malat
								and Cupak

Colotomic instruments			gong agung
				kempli
				bebended (?gong)
					gong
				kempul (hanging gong)

Secondary colotomic		gebyog (low-pitch	kempur
instruments				metllophone)	kelenang (temple only)
			kempul (accasionally)

Melody	2 saron (metallophone)	2 gangsa (8-key	2 gangsa gantung	saron gede and
				metallophone)	gede (metallophone)	saron cenik (metallophone)
					saron besar (metallophone)		played by one player
					saron kecil (metallophone)

Secondary melody		suling			suling, rebab

Elaboration	4 gambang (xylophone)	2 gucekan	gangsa gantung	caruk (box-resonated
			gong (metallophone)	cenik (7-keyed		bamboo xylophone)
			inting gede		bamboo saron)
				(metallophone)	gansa jongkok
			inting cenik	besar
				(metallophone)	gangsa jongkok
			penem (metallophone)	kecil
			nyonyong gede
				(metallophone)
			nyonyong cenik
				(metallophone)

Gong chimes			trompong/bonang
						(double-row)

Agogic					?

Additional percussion		ceng-ceng	kendang
				ceng-ceng

Although there are many varieties of gamelan, most follow similar musical principles; discussion here will use gamelan gong (developed from gamelan gong gede and semar pagulingan) as a model.

(d) Performing practice and musical structure.

All players of a Balinese gamelan work together with extreme precision, held together by a network of leading instruments that provide aural and visual cues. Characteristic features of Balinese music are the rapidity of melodies and rhythms played in close coordination with one another and sudden shifts of tempo and dynamics, from slow, lyrical extended melodies to fast, highly dramatic, short ostinati. The stratified texture in Balinese music generally consists of a slow-moving skeletal melody (pokok) played on the lower, single-octave metallophones (calung or jublag, ornamented by penyacah metallophones tuned an octave higher), usually in evenly-spaced beats divisible by two. This is punctuated by even lower metallophones (jegogan) and ornamented by a multi-octave, leading metallophone (ugal or giying). Elaboration of this melody in interlocking style occurs on higher metallophones with a two-octave range (gangsa) and a 12-kettle gong-chime played by four musicians (reyong). Another gong-chime (trompong), lower in pitch than the reyong, is played by a soloist as a leading melodic instrument in certain types of pieces. The form of the piece is marked by a group of gongs in graduated sizes with the largest marking the end of each cycle and the smaller ones subdividing the cycle. The ensemble is led by one or two drummers who play interlocking parts on wadon (female, larger, lower in pitch) and lanang (male, smaller, higher in pitch) drums, cueing introductions, tempo, dynamics, transitional passages, endings etc. Over this texture floats a melody played on suling and sometimes rebab.

Most melodies are cyclical and in multiples of two or four, with the stress falling on the final beat of a group (rather than the first beat); sometimes this coincides with a gong. The music played on elaborating instruments is highly syncopated, often juxtaposing three-beat groupings against duple rhythms.

(e) Kotekan.

The gangsa and reyong players play interlocking figuration (kotekan, also called candatan) consisting of two complementary parts, the polos (the basic, main part, usually playing on the beat) and the sangsih (‘differing’, fitting between polos notes). When polos and sangsih are sounded together the composite melody has a faster tempo than any single player could produce, usually four or eight times as fast as the pokok melody. In order to play kotekan the musicians involved must hear their parts in relation to each other rather than as isolated units.

Further timbral distinction between the low, slow-moving parts and the figuration is achieved with the mallets themselves (panggul). The gangsa panggul are hard wooden hammers producing a sharp attack, whereas the lower instruments (penyacah, calung or jublag and jegogan) are struck with padded mallets, producing a softer, warmer sound. The damping technique can be very complex in playing kotekan, as every note struck by the right hand must be damped with the left precisely when the complementary part strikes. Instruments that are played with two panggul, such as reyong, have an even more difficult damping technique, requiring the musician to stop the sound with the mallet after striking without producing another sound.

There is little room for improvisation, since many of the parts are in pairs that are dependent on precise figuration in order to interlock properly. The leading melodic instrument has some leeway for improvisation, but because of its role as leader, it must remain connected to the pokok, anticipating, following and embellishing.

There are many types of kotekan, from rhythmically simple to highly syncopated. Each type is associated with specific genres, forms, melodies, ensembles and moods. Some are closely tied to the pokok, reinforcing, surrounding or anticipating its pitches, while others are independent (ex.1); in kebyar compositions these types are often combined.

Augmentation and diminution frequently occur in compositions. When a skeletal melody is played at its ‘basic’ tempo it is known as panca periring, and when played twice as slow it is called wilet; the result is similar to the Javanese irama ratios: as the pokok is played slower, other instruments fill in with their own faster figurations.

Interlocking drum patterns employ a number of strokes specific to genres, gamelan types and drum size. Drumming styles range from melodic to percussive, and their intricate patterns add a variegated texture to the ongoing ostinati. Panggul (mallet) drumming for the gong gede ensemble is heavy and powerful; drumming for gambuh and palegongan ensembles (ex.2) employs delicate hand strokes that ring melodically, while kebyar drumming is a display of rapid virtuoso percussion.

(f) Form.

Many compositions have several movements with contrasting gong structures, melodies and tempi, combining cyclic repetition with linear progression. Likened to parts of the body, pieces often open with the gineman (head), a metrically and rhythmically free introduction played by one or a few instruments and joined by the drums, which cue the entrance of the rest of the ensemble; this is sometimes followed by a kawitan (‘beginning’) section; the main body of the piece (pangawak, ‘body’), is the longest, slowest section; finally, the pangecet (legs and feet) usually consists of a short gong cycle in a fast tempo. Repeating sections of pieces are sometimes linked by non-repeating transitional passages. The basic model of gineman–pangawak–pangecet is often expanded to encompass other movements. Usually there is recurring thematic material, giving the composition cohesion.

The cycles, divided and marked by one or more gongs, are associated with particular drum patterns. Forms range from cycles of two beats (often a short ostinato) to 256 beats (extensive melodies). They are closely associated with theatrical and dance genres, even when taken out of their original context and incorporated into multi-sectional kebyar compositions. In theatrical music a single gong cycle may be repeated many times to support the drama; when a new mood or character piece is needed, there is a switch to another melody with a differing gong framework. Pieces with shorter gong cycles accompany highly dramatic or action scenes, articulated by the frequency of gong strokes, whereas long, extended cycles usually accompany calmer scenes or refined character dances.

The repeated cycles are enlivened by angsel, syncopated rhythmic accents or breaks in the melodic figuration, played while the beat and colotomic pattern continue (ex.3). These are borrowed from (but not restricted to) dance music, in which movement is tightly coordinated with the gamelan via drum cues. There are many types of angsel rhythms, articulating movement, marking tempo or pitch changes, closing phrases or linking sections etc. In certain styles of dance (usually accompanied by solo drum) the dancer decides when to initiate an angsel, cueing the drummer, who cues the musicians. Other dances have a set choreography with angsel built into the composition, which are memorized by the musicians and dancers.

Forms are highly contextualized to specific types of gamelan and associated repertories, although repertory is often transferred from one type of gamelan to another in order to fulfil ceremonial and aesthetic functions. The form of a piece is usually named after the genre or melody with which it is most closely associated, even when it is has been transferred to another genre or melody (Table 3). Forms are marked by different types of gongs, depending on the instrumentation of the ensemble. In the court ensembles (gambuh, semar pagulingan and palegongan), the largest gong marking the end of each cycle is the medium-sized kempur, and divisions in the cycle are articulated on kemong (a small hanging gong struck with a hard mallet wrapped with string, also called klentong), kajar (small horizontal gong with a flat boss, held in the lap and struck with a wooden beater) and klenang (the smallest horizontal gong, playing the off-beat). Forms are also distinguished by drum patterns.

TABLE 3: Some colotomic forms

k = kajar or kempli t = klentong P = kempur G = gong

Form

Structure

Batel

Bapang

Bapang Gede

(augmented pokok, twice

as slow as Bapang)

Gilak (Baris)

8 or 16

Kalé (same form as Gilak but pokok consists of repeated note)

Gabor Sisir

Gegaboran

Forms range in size and scope from the fast, two-beat batel in gamelan gambuh to lalambatan (‘slow’ music), which are stately, grand pieces played in the temple during the odalan (temple ceremony). Traditional lalambatan pieces are the longest and perhaps most difficult to memorize of all Balinese music. Most have several movements, beginning with a slow, free introduction played on the trompong, moving through many long, slow sections and ending in a compressed section in a fast tempo. Associated with the huge gamelan gong gede (which has a deep range and timbre), they are commonly played on the standard gamelan gong ensembles with the addition of a group of large, hand-held cymbals (ceng-ceng kopyak) that play interlocking rhythms. Lalambatan compositions are venerated and old but are also frequently adapted to the flashy kebyar style. The cycles are marked by much larger gongs than those of gumbuh-derived ensembles. In gong gede, instead of the kempur there are two large gongs, a male (lanang) and a female (wadon); often only one gong is used in gamelan gong. The cycle may be subdivided by the kempur and the kempli (equivalent to the kajar but larger, with a raised boss).

(a) Pre-Hindu Balinese instruments.

(iii) Gamelan ensembles.

Palm leaf manuscripts (lontar), bas-reliefs on temples and stone and copper inscriptions from Java and Bali (some dating back to the 10th century) comprise the evidence for historical study. Two lontar address the subject of music directly: the Prakempa and Aji Gurnita manuscripts (anonymous, probably 19th-century) discuss suara (sound or voice), pelog and slendro tuning systems and courtly ensembles. Many other lontar also contain useful information about gamelan.

Based on this evidence, Balinese scholars group gamelan and repertory according to certain lineages of ensembles that are linked historically and musically. The many diverse ensembles share fundamental elements and have exerted mutual influences upon each other over time, so it is very difficult to date them precisely. Scholars such as I Nyoman Rembang and I Wayan Sinti group Balinese ensembles chronologically into three rough periods: tua (‘old’, considered to be indigenous Balinese), madya (‘middle’, probably from the Kadiri and Gelgel periods, beginning with the emulation of Hindu-Javanese court life in Balinese courts) and baru (‘new’, beginning with the creation of gong kebyar in 1915; see Gold, 1998).

Theoretically, there is a progression in function of ensembles in these categories analogous to the wali, babali and balih-balihan categories (see §(i)(c) above). ‘Old’ ensembles are rare (except for gender wayang and angklung), highly sacred, and generally associated with priestliness; ‘middle’ ensembles are revered and ceremonial, associated with courtliness; and ‘new’ ensembles tend to represent secular culture and accessibility to the general public. The specific time periods, narratives and languages with which the ensembles are associated link them to certain rituals. However, the actual function these ensembles may fulfil in rituals is not fixed but dependent on local preference, availability and the repertory played. For example, gong gede is often considered wali; gender wayang may be played for babali or balih-balihan activities and gong kebyar may play sacred lalambatan pieces in the wali context.

Instrumentation is one major distinguishing factor: most ‘old’ ensembles do not include drums, or accord them a colotomic rather than agogic role, whereas in the ‘middle’ category drums are essential for controlling the ensemble and delineating form; and in the ‘new’ category, drums have the additional role of featured soloist. Rebab and suling do not appear in ensembles of the ‘old’ category, whereas they play prominent roles in some ensembles of the ‘middle’ category, perhaps indicating Javanese influence. In the ‘old’ category four sacred ensembles are distinct from other Balinese gamelan due to their materials: gamelan selonding is made of iron and gamelan gambang, luang and caruk combine bronze with bamboo instruments, resulting in a timbral similarity to some Javanese ensembles. These four are linked in other ways (see below) and are distinct from ‘middle’ and ‘new’ ensembles that show clear influence from either gambuh or gong gede, although they share some musical elements and techniques.

(b) ‘Old’ ensembles.

(d) ‘New’ ensembles.

(e) Bamboo ensembles.

(a) Pre-Hindu Balinese instruments.

Nekara, bronze kettledrums from the Dongson culture (4th century bce to 1st century ce) of southern China, spread to what is now Vietnam (Tonkin and Annam) and are considered the precursor to gamelan. Bali possesses one of the most important specimens in the temple, Pura Penataran Sasih (sasih, ‘moon’), at Pejeng (Intaran) (see Bronze drum).

There are only two examples of Gong beri (bheri) gamelan in south Bali: in Renon and Semawang. It accompanies the rare baris cina (‘Chinese baris’) trance ritual. Featuring a flat bossed gong, the origin of the instrument is the subject of several legends. It is associated with China because of the dance and the design of the gong itself, and is considered to be highly charged with spiritual power (Rai, 1998).

(b) ‘Old’ ensembles.

The four sacred ensembles gambang, selunding, luang (also known as saron) and caruk have some unifying features: they share contextual function and seven-tone tuning; some are associated with Bali Aga (‘original Bali’) communities (villages that resisted Hindu-Javanese culture, predating the Majapahit period); and their repertory (which is preserved in lontar) is linked to vocal melodies of sacred poetry (kidung). Kidung are no longer performed together with instrumental accompaniment (see §(iv) below), but some scholars have attempted to reunite them.

Gamelan gambang. 60 of these rare ensembles are scattered throughout Bali, with 22 in east Bali. This ensemble is often associated with pitrayadnya and dewayadnya ceremonies. Depicted in temple reliefs in the East Javanese temple Pura Penataran (1375), it features the Balinese gambang, which has 14 bamboo keys that are not arranged in an ascending sequence from low to high, but rather in groups of three and four ascending pitches, and is played with two forked mallets, the tips of which span an octave on each mallet (for illustration, see Gambang, fig.2). The ensemble consists of four gambang, each starting on a different pitch, and one or a pair of large, bronze, seven-keyed saron, tuned an octave apart and played by a single player; some ensembles have two pairs of saron.

Gambang is known for the saron rhythm comprising a 5+3 stress pattern or its reverse. The saron provides the pokok (often kidung-derived), and the gambang play a complex interlocking figuration called oncangan, a term derived from rice-pounding ensembles. The oncangan figuration follows the pokok but is based on an even rhythm. Each tone in the mode has a special oncangan form.

The repertory comprises 50 pieces in some areas, composed in one of seven pentatonic or hexatonic saih, which are linked to melodies (taksu) that accompany the dancing of specific deities and other temple rituals (ex.4).

Gamelan caruk (saron). This extremely rare, small ensemble, found around Karangasem and named after the bamboo-keyed xylophone (caruk or saron), is played by two musicians. One musician plays the pokok in parallel octaves on two bronze, seven-keyed saron tuned an octave apart, while the other doubles or plays simple figuration on the caruk. In some ways it is a simplified form of gamelan gambang and is sometimes substituted for it in pitrayadnya or dewayadnya rituals. For the most part the caruk repertory is shared with that of gambang; however, a few lontar of exclusively caruk pieces do exist.

Gamelan salunding. There are two forms of gamelan salunding (also salonding, salundeng, selonding). One, now extinct, with wooden keys and coconut-shell resonators, is said to have been played by hermits meditating in the forest, whereas the prevalent form of gamelan salunding is a sacred ensemble consisting of two to ten iron-keyed, trough-resonated metallophones. The graceful resonance of iron keys, the absence of drums and gongs and the frequent slow-tempi are unlike any other gamelan. They are located in Bali Aga villages such as Tenganan and Trunyan, and in several non-Bali Aga communities, mostly in east Bali. Most salunding have their own legend ascribing their creation to a gift from the gods. The gamelan are the abode of the gods during temple ceremonies; in some cases it is forbidden to touch or even to see gamelan salunding when not being played for ritual. Most salunding have a documented ancient history: the set in Selat (near Besakih), for example, was first mentioned in 1181 in edicts (bronze plaques) in Klungkung.

Two eight-keyed gangsa, an octave apart, carry the melody. Figuration is provided by two other metallophones, each played by two musicians. A similar instrument, pitched an octave lower than the lowest gangsa, has an interpunctuating function. Sometimes a kempul and very occasionally a pair of ceng-ceng are added for punctuation. A fixed repertory of sacred pieces is played only for ritual functions. Some of these, called gaguron, may neither be recorded nor even recalled outside performance. Pieces are composed in one of three pentatonic modes. Many of the pieces were taken from the gambang and caruk repertories. Other pieces exist outside of the kidung-related repertory; a few new compositions are sometimes composed at STSI and in Tenganan.

Gamelan luang. This ensemble is associated with pitrayadnya ceremonies in most areas, and with dewayadnya ceremonies in some. Some scholars believe luang to be a source for gamelan gong gede: its double-row bonang (and other features) resemble some archaic Javanese ensembles. The melodic interlocking figuration played on the bonang (also called trompong) are called sekatian, another possible link with the archaic Javanese gamelan sekatan; other similarities include the colotomic function of the kendang and the name of one of the modes (nyura, manyura similar to that of Java.

Luang shares some pieces with the previous three ensembles, but for the most part it has its own repertory. The pieces, known as tembang, exist in seven modes known as jalan (‘ways’, ‘paths’), but usually only about four are in regular use.

Slendro ensembles: gender wayang. This consists of a pair or quartet of ten-keyed metallophones (see Gendèr) played with a complex two-handed technique. A polos-sangsih pair (doubled at the octave in a quartet), play interlocking figuration in the right hand, set against a slower-moving left-hand melody and resulting in a rapid composite melody and a stratified texture. Sometimes each hand plays a different kotekan, resulting in a more active four-part texture; in slow pieces both hands play in parallel octaves or empat (the interval spanning four keys, approximately a 5th) with delicate grace notes and rubato (ex.5). Aesthetically, the ensemble is regarded as an emblem of refinement and complexity. It is considered to be a member of the sacred ensembles category due to age and function. The primary function of this ensemble is in wayang kulit (shadow puppet theatre), which plays a central role in ceremonial and secular Balinese life (see §(v)(b)) accompanies the dalang (shadow puppet master), who sings and provides dialogue and puppet movement. Gender wayang is also used to accompany two forms of dance-drama, parwa (Mahabharata stories) and wayang wong (Ramayana stories), and is essential in certain rituals where it is played without wayang (fig.2).

Pieces used in the shadow play are classified according to their function in the drama: purely instrumental pieces, played as the audience gathers (pategak, ‘sitting pieces’), an extended multisectional overture (pamungkah), pieces for action, mood songs, background mood music, special character pieces, ending music and ritual music. Pieces accompanying action consist of a left-hand ostinato against a right-hand kotekan, which is repeated a number of times, followed by a transitional passage leading to a repetition in another pitch area. The standard repertory is based on pieces accompanying wayang parwa (stories drawn from the Mahabharata); however, the ensemble is also used to accompany stories such as the Ramayana, in which case the ensemble, called batel, is augmented by percussion and gongs shared by the gambuh ensemble. The batel ensemble also accompanies wayang wong (‘human’ Ramayana-based wayang). Pieces from the wayang parwa repertory are also used to accompany tooth filing ceremonies and cremation processions, when they are sometimes played on the tower carrying the corpse to the burning grounds at the Death Temple. The slendro tuning is said to guide the spirit of the deceased to the land of the deified ancestors. Regional and personal variation are expressed in many styles and versions of the repertory (see Gold, 1998).

Gamelan angklung. This ensemble is named after a bamboo shaken idiophone (Angklung) that was formerly part of the ensemble but is now rarely used. It is a delicate ensemble consisting of small, four-key gangsa, reyong with eight kettles, two jegogan and other instruments. Led by two tiny drums, the four-tone, slendro-derived tuning and the kempur tuned to a pitch outside of the four-tone slendro system give angklung a unique quality that connotes melancholy sweetness to a Balinese audience. It is often performed during cremation rites and temple and house ceremonies. Due to its small size and affordability, it is probably the most prevalent type of ensemble in Bali and a favourite for beginning and children's gamelan as well as virtuoso professionals. It can also be made portable and played in processions (ex.6).

The repertory includes pieces unique to angklung as well as standard repertory adapted from larger pelog ensembles, such as gong kebyar dance compositions and lalambatan. Characteristic of angklung are pangawak, in which the gangsa play a lyrical melodic line in unison without figuration, often with melodic syncopation, expressing the sweet mood associated with this ensemble, followed by pangecet with kotekan. The complex kotekan characteristic of this somewhat restricted tuning is an example of maximum use of minimal materials. As in gender wayang, phrases and gong cycles are frequently asymmetrical in length with flexibility of form, unlike structures found in larger ensembles such as gamelan gong.

(c) ‘Middle’ ensembles.

Gamelan gambuh. This small ensemble, in which the main melody is carried by four large bamboo suling rather than metallophones, forms the basis for the repertory, forms and performance practice of pieces played by most later ensembles. Legends claim that gamelan gambuh, played to accompany the gambuh dance drama (see §(v) below), was formerly known as gambelan meladperana (‘cutting to the quick’) and was created by the god of love, Semar, and his spouse Ratih to be played in heaven by divine beings. This ensemble inspired the creation of others, each related to one of the gods of the four quarters: semar haturu or pagulingan (the god of love sleeping); semar patangian (the god of love rising), now known as palegongan; semar palungguhan (the god of love seated), now known as pajogedan; and semar pandirian (the god of love standing), now known as barong. These ensembles have come to represent courtly refinement, glorifying Bali's Hindu-Javanese heritage and the customs and practices of the Balinese courts of the Gelgel period. The gambuh drumming patterns, musical forms and pokok are carried over in these four ensembles. Gambuh has been revived relatively recently, although interest in it is still marginal and esoteric.

Gambuh compositions are broadly classified into pure music compositions (pategak) and pieces that accompany the gambuh dance-drama (pangiring tari). The repertory is further classified by mode (tekep or patut) and form, corresponding to specific characters and situations. Gambuh suling are end-blown flutes, approximately 90 cm in length with a diameter of about 4·5 cm, which require a circular breathing technique resulting in a continuous sound. There are usually four suling, tuned in pairs of pangumbang and pangisep, each with six fingerholes. The pitches, which span a range of about two-and-a-half octaves, vary in timbre depending on the register. An elaboration of the suling melody is played on the rebab (see Table 2 above for full instrumentation).

Gamelan semar pagulingan. The name of this ensemble (Semar, the god of love sleeping) refers to its original performance context: adjacent to the bedchamber of the nobility and played during love-making. The oldest form of this ensemble, in the seven-tone pelog (saih pitu) tuning, was almost extinct during McPhee's time in the 1930s and has since been revived, but it is still rare. Later semar pagulingan are pentatonic. Much of the seven-tone semar pagulingan repertory, colotomic structures and kendang patterns is adapted directly from gambuh, although the intervallic and modal systems vary from those of gambuh, the gamelan is tuned around a minor 7th above gambuh, and there are many pieces unique to semar pagulingan. Four modes are generally known, although most semar pagulingan pieces are in tembung and selisir modes.

The melodic leader of the ensemble is the row of tuned horizontal gongs (trompong), played in a delicate, somewhat improvised manner. Other instruments include single-octave gangsa (metallophones), of which there may be three sizes, ornamenting the slower-moving pokok. In certain modes melodies played on the trompong exceed the single-octave range of the gangsa, resulting in octave displacement; when semar pagulingan pieces are adapted for ensembles that have gangsa with double-octave ranges (e.g. gong kebyar) this octave displacement is often preserved to maintain the character of the original piece. The drums are slightly larger than those used in gambuh. The lyrical melodic instruments, suling (smaller in size) and rebab, remain important in this ensemble (see Table 2 for complete ensemble).

Gamelan palegongan, bebarongan and calonarang. Believed to have developed around the 18th century, the ensemble accompanying the highly popular dance-drama forms legong, barong and calonarang (see §(v) below) is derived from semar pagulingan. These genres all share the ensemble type, and their name denotes the repertory (e.g. the legong repertory is played on the gamelan palegongan (fig.3). As it is tuned to a pentatonic selisir or tembung, pieces from the gambuh and semar pagulingan repertory must be adapted. The trompong is replaced by two 13-key gender rambat, on which the leading melody is played, and doubled on two gender barangan tuned one octave higher. The delicate sound of the gender with its two-handed playing technique (here mostly playing in parallel octaves with much use of grace-note passing tones, rather than with a contrapuntal technique) and mallets with disc-shaped ends (as in gender wayang) make this ensemble even lighter-sounding than semar pagulingan. The pieces are multi-sectional, with lively, contrasting tempos and gong-cycle lengths ranging from two beat forms to long, slow pangawak with lyrical and complex melodies played on the gender. Gangsa polos and sangsih play patterns anticipating and surrounding the pokok pitches. Angsel are incorporated into the compositions to articulate the dance movements and mark transitions.

Gamelan palegongan was a favourite of the renowned composer I Wayan Lotring, who composed many innovative pieces for this ensemble during the 1930s that are still popular.

Gamelan gong gede (‘great gong’). This rare, stately ensemble is closely connected with the temples and old court ceremonies and is thought to have developed around the same time as gambuh (see Gamelan, fig.5). The instruments are enormous, with thick, bronze-keyed metallophones, gong-chimes, ceng-ceng kopyak and huge drums played with mallets (see Table 2 above). The number of musicians required can reach 50. The gangsa jongkok and two pairs of penyacah play a slow-moving melody and are struck with large mallets, giving the music a weighty presence. Smaller versions of gong gede were made for village use by the late 19th century, later developing into the gong kebyar ensemble. This interim form of gamelan is known as gamelan gong, a term that can also be used to refer to the standard gamelan gong kebyar present in many villages.

(d) ‘New’ ensembles.

Gamelan gaguntangan and gamelan paarjaan. From about 1915 to the 1940s, the arja dance-drama (often known as ‘Balinese opera’) was accompanied by a small chamber ensemble known as gamelan gaguntangan. This ensemble, consisting of flutes, various percussion and two bamboo-zithers (guntang) borrowed some of its drum patterns and form structures from gambuh, with the melodies remaining distinct. The current arja ensemble, consisting of seven to twelve instruments (see Table 2), is similar to that of gambuh, with the addition of the guntang that play primary and secondary punctuation. The large suling gambuh were used in the 1920s, but smaller suling are now used. There are two sizes of four to seven differently-tuned suling that are adaptable to match the singer's vocal range, in slendro and pelog.

Gamelan gong kebyar. This 20th-century ensemble and musical style developed in north Bali around 1915, when the need arose for instruments that would accommodate virtuoso kotekan at newly increased tempi, with dynamic contrasts and an extended four-octave range (five including the gong). Gong kebyar remains the most popular and ubiquitous ensemble in Bali. Many earlier ensembles were melted down to create gong kebyar with two-octave gangsa to allow for extension of single-octave melodies. The instruments are smaller than those of gong gede, allowing for agility of movement, but much larger than those of semar pagulingan and palegongan, with a louder, stronger timbre. The kebyar drumming style uses large drums played with the hands in rapid, intricate interlocking. The overall timbre of the strokes is less melodic and more percussive than those of gambuh and palegongan. The drums are the most dominant in gong kebyar: often a section of the piece features the two drummers (with the ceng-ceng) displaying their virtuosity. The Reyong features four musicians playing tightly-coordinated interlocking patterns. Several reyong techniques are used: all four players may play a chord of eight pitches on the bosses, a texture and pitch combination that stands apart from most other ensembles (ex.7); they may strike the rim of the kettles in percussive unison with the ceng-ceng and drums, or they play melodically on the bosses, employing a number of kotekan techniques.

The ensemble is named after the kebyar (lit. ‘explosive’) sections of pieces in which all instruments play sudden rhythmic and melodic flourishes in unison that are not tied to a steady beat, covering a wide melodic and dynamic range. Rather than playing in constant stratification, as in the earlier ensembles, different instrument groups play antiphonally at certain points in interlocking or kebyar segments. Prior to kebyar, individual composers were not generally acknowledged, but certain kebyar composers have become known for their pieces and are invited to teach throughout the island. Most kebyar compositions draw from pre-existing forms and techniques for material, reinterpreting it in a new context. Sections played by the entire ensemble in stratification with a steady pulse and gong cycle may resemble musical elements of other forms, drawing on semar pagulingan, palegongan, lalambatan and theatre music for forms and figuration. Specific kebyar forms known as kreasi baru (‘new creations’) have also developed, marked by three sizes of gongs (gong, kempur, klentong). Many pieces depart from the traditional norms of other ensembles in using asymmetrical gong structures, highly syncopated pokok and innovative kotekan patterns. Compositional devices imported from other ensembles become known by the ensembles with which they are usually associated, such as gegenderan (when the gangsa section plays a lyrical melody together in imitation of gender) or leluangan (reyong style that imitates the bonang rhythms of gamelan luang). A new category of contemporary compositions (komposisi baru or kontemporer), mostly created at the government arts institutions, experiment with techniques and materials, breaking the conventions of kebyar.

Balaganjur, the marching gamelan (also called bebonangan because the reyong kettles resemble bonang kettles), is often associated with the demons of the earth (fig.4). The ensemble consists of instruments taken from the gamelan gong and made portable for processions. These include reyong, ceng-ceng kopyak, drums played with mallets and hanging colotomic and time-keeping gongs. Requiring a high level of interlocking skill, reyong kettles are removed from the rack and held and played individually by members of the procession, producing a complex hocket of four or more pitches (fig.5). This texture is offset by the clashing cymbal group, also playing interlocking parts; both groups play antiphonally as well as together. There are a variety of forms used for distinct situations. Balaganjur is used for cremation and other processions to instil enthusiasm in the crowd and for exorcism; contemporary ensembles have developed balaganjur to a competitive virtuoso form.

(e) Bamboo ensembles.

The abundance of bamboo growing throughout Bali results in a wide variety of bamboo ensembles comprised of flutes (gong suling), tuned bamboo stamping tubes played by female musicians and derived from rice-pounding ( Lesung), bamboo jews harps (genggong) and a variety of ensembles consisting of bamboo xylophones. Other than the sacred bamboo ensembles from the ‘old’ historical category, most bamboo ensembles developed from the ‘middle’ category in the 20th century. The keys of these xylophones are either flat slabs of bamboo suspended or laid over a trough resonator (e.g. gamelan gandrung) or bamboo tubes split lengthwise over half their length and suspended over resonators (e.g. grantang, rindik and tingklik of joged bumbung and the xylophones of gamelan jegog of west Bali). They may be tuned to slendro- or pelog-derived tunings. Historically, the oldest bamboo ensemble is considered to be gamelan gambang (see §(b) above). Secular ensembles also exist, such as gamelan gandrungan (accompanying the male gandrung dance) or joged pingitan (accompanying its female counterpart), both involving the transfer of gamelan palegongan repertory to bamboo, some time after the inception of legong (see below).

Gamelan pajogedan. Also referred to as joged bumbung (bamboo dance), this ensemble of bamboo xylophones (rindik) is modelled after palegongan and accompanies a social dance form based on legong dance movements, one of the few forms of social dancing between a man and a woman. It is popular, affordable and abundant in Balinese villages. The joged (dancer), a teenage girl or young woman, of which there are usually several in a troupe, performs some dance excerpts and is then spontaneously joined by a succession of male audience members, either chosen by the dancer or volunteering, who engage in flirtatious dance surrounded by cheering crowds.

Consisting of approximately 12 players, the timbre of this small bamboo ensemble is light and delicate. Because the bamboo sound is not prolonged as in bronze ensembles, damping is not necessary, and in order to sustain the pitch, staccato repeated notes and rapid figuration are required. The leading gender part is played on two large rindik, and ornamentation is provided by smaller rindik tuned an octave higher. The equivalent to the kempur is played on a kempur pulu (or kempur komodong), two thick bamboo slabs suspended over earthen jars and tuned slightly apart, simulating the beating effect of a gong.

Tingklik. Most often played alone or in pairs, this bamboo-keyed instrument is purely for personal entertainment. Similar to gender wayang in employing a two-handed, sometimes contrapuntal technique, the lack of required damping makes this instrument far more accessible than gender wayang because the technique is easier and the compositions simpler. Most tingklik are tuned to slendro (saih gender) and played with mallets with long sticks and rubber-tipped ends. This instrument is easy to construct with readily available materials and is extremely prevalent throughout Bali.

Gamelan jegog. Found only in west Bali, where bamboo grows to an enormous size, each xylophone in this ensemble is made up of eight tubes that may reach three metres in length with a circumference of 60–65 cm; it is struck with mallets and has a powerful, earth-shaking sound (fig.6). It is tuned to a rare four-tone tuning that may be pelog-derived. Often more than one jegog ensemble play in competition with one another, first alternating and then finally playing together.

Many folk ensembles also exist, including interlocking blown reeds, vocalized gamelan (cekepung or genjek) and wooden cow-bell ensembles (tektekan). Kendang mabarung, restricted to west Bali, includes two huge drums and four-tone pelog-derived angklung.

Many innovative ensembles develop from pre-existing ones, such as the musical accompaniment to the popular form of wayang tantri, which includes a pelog gender quartet and draws on a number of sources. Some of the foremost innovative ensembles becoming widely accepted are gamelan genta pinara pitu (similar to a two-octave, seven-tone semar pagulingan), gamelan semara dahana and manikasanti(see §(ii)(a) above), gamelan mandolin (a Chinese-influenced string ensemble), and adi mredangga (like an expanded balaganjur processional gamelan with 10 to 12 pairs of drums in several sizes, 20 to 30 sets of ceng-ceng kopyak and featuring dancing during the procession). Some of the experimental forms are only accepted in esoteric circles; others become incorporated into Balinese traditional performance contexts, where they are performed alongside centuries-old traditions.

(iv) Vocal genres.

These range from austere sacred chant to highly melismatic, popular Balinese operatic songs. There is a hierarchy of five main, context-specific vocal categories with distinct poetic forms, revered according to age, text and function.

Sloka in Sanskrit is the oldest chant form in Bali. Restricted to Brahman priests, it is a highly esoteric vocalization of Hindu-Buddhist philosophical-cosmological principles employing five magic syllables with corresponding vocables in very restricted melodies.

Kakawin (wirama), sung in Kawi (Old Javanese), is based on sekar ageng (‘large form’) poetic metres. Preserved in lontar dating from 9th–10th-century Java, the texts are long, often Indian-derived narratives such as the Ramayana, books of Parwa (Mahabharata), and Tantri. Some kakawin were composed in Bali. In reading clubs (pepaosan) and during odalan and rites of passage the esoteric language is paraphrased line by line into vernacular Balinese. Kakawin encompass a 3 to 4 pitch system with a specified number of syllables per line.

Kidung texts and melodies, composed in Javanese metres (sekar madya, ‘middle form’) and considered to be indigenous rather than Indian-derived, are preserved in lontar believed to date from the 16th–17th centuries. Their poetic content is restricted to romantic or historical tales that evoke the last of the East Javanese Hindu-Buddhist kingdoms or mystical or erotic topics, set to a specified syllabic length and vowel sound at phrase endings. The lontar frequently contain musical pitch-notation (grantangan) alongside the text, leading scholars to believe that at one time certain ensembles and a kidung singer performed together. Kidung are usually sung in ritual situations; whole texts are rarely known: instead, people use memorized excerpts from selected poems for ritual purposes. The three most commonly sung are Malat (tales of the Javanese hero, Prince Panji), Wargasari (a mystical journey) and Tantri (didactic tales). Text setting in kidung often obscures the meaning, as words are broken up and embellished in three or four syllabic melodic fragments relatively unrelated to the syntax of the text (ex.8).

Tembang macapat and geguritan (sekar alit, ‘small form’) are both sung in theatrical forms and are the only forms still being created in Bali. Both are accompanied by instruments that accommodate the tuning of the voice (suling and rebab) and contain through-composed, conjunct melodic stanzas in which the melody is conguent with the text. Tembang macapat are sung in the popular arja dance-drama (§(v) below); the melodies are highly ornamented and the vocal timbre unique to arja.

Sekar raré (raré, ‘baby’) or lagu rakyat (‘popular song’), similar to the Javanese dolanan, is a form of folksong often sung by youth groups or workers for entertainment.

(v) Dance and theatre.

Dance, theatre and music are linked and classified according to specific historical time periods, genre, ensemble and context. Dances range from highly sacred (such as the female offering dance, rejang) to secular (e.g. sendratari). In general there has been a tendency to adapt highly sacred dances for more secular contexts such as tourist performances; examples of these are kecak, legong, baris and topeng (for details of accompanying ensembles, see §(iii) above).

Character types are broadly defined by dance movements, vocal production, costume, headdress, physical body type and musical accompaniment. Refined characters have small, fluid movements, high, thin voices and smaller bodies and narrower eyes, while coarse character types have broad, swift, direct and sudden movements, lower voices, larger bodies and wider eyes. Further distinction involves whether or not the character speaks, and the language spoken. In topeng (masked dance), the refined characters wear a full mask and do not speak, whereas the comic servants wear half-masks and speak (figs.7 and 8); in wayang, nobility speak or sing in Kawi (Old Javanese) and coarse servants paraphrase and translate into the local vernacular Balinese. Characterization is portrayed musically: in general, pieces that accompany refined characters have longer gong cycles, slower tempos and are higher in pitch. The dramatic situation is also a consideration: shorter cycles accompany agitated, active scenes.

Individual dances are classified according to one of three types: alus (refined), keras (strong) and bebanci (androgynous) for both male and female dance styles; however, within a single dance there are usually sections of all three types.

The vocabulary of dance movements is highly stylized and codified to suit character types. Important movements include agem, the basic stance that defines character, mungkah lawang, opening of the curtain, and seledet, a quick eye movement from side to side, synchronized with gongs. Hand gestures (mudra) are used, perhaps a retention from Indian dance, but with no particular meaning.

The gambuh dance-drama genre enacts the Panji Malat text, written in Kawi and dealing with the adventures of the Javanese hero, Prince Panji. Slower and more fluid than later forms of Balinese dance, the dance style and the Kawi poetry (sung and declaimed in stylized speech) illustrate links between Javanese and Balinese kingdoms before and during the Majapahit period. Gambuh includes the prototypes for many forms of Balinese dance, such as the female attendant to the princess (condong), who plays a prominent role in legong and arja.

Legong is a dance performed by three pre-pubescent girls enacting stories reflecting Bali's ties to its Hindu-Javanese past (fig.9). It developed from the sacred trance dance sanghyang, of which there are many versions performed for ritual purposes only. Of the many legong stories (each with its own musical accompaniment) the most common is legong kraton, believed to have been first performed around the turn of the 19th century; it enacts the Lasem story, related to the Panji cycle depicted in gambuh. The performance opens with the condong character performing a non-narrative dance before she is joined by the two legong: the three then enact the story along with a singer-narrator (juru tandak). The dance movements are based on gambuh but are faster, lighter and with more contrasts. Legong is so popular that most tourist performances are called ‘legong dance’ whether or not legong is actually performed. A complete performance can include many sections and last over an hour, but it is usually shortened.

The barong is a sacred ritual dance enacting the ever-changing balance between divine and demonic forces. Two dancers animate an elaborate costume of a barong, a mythological creature with a mask (of which there are many varieties, such as a wild boar, tiger or cow). The most prevalent is the barong ket (keket), with a mask with large round eyes and fangs that is held by the dancer in the front part of the costume. The entire creature is about 2·5 metres in length and is covered with long, shaggy hair made of palm fibres; it may have derived from the Chinese lion dance, which developed during the Tang dynasty (7th–10th centuries). The barong is the protector of the Balinese village, and a special repertory of pieces is played to accompany its dances. In another context, the barong enters into the calonarang dance-drama, which enacts the story of Rangda the witch, personification of demonic forces. The masks are highly sacred and possess magical powers; trance frequently occurs, and these dances are often used for exorcism purposes.

Another form influenced by gambuh is the arja dance-drama, often referred to as ‘Balinese opera’ because the characters sing and dance throughout the performance. Its inception may have been instigated by a collaboration of the royal gambuh dancers of the kingdoms of Gianyar and Badung in 1825 for a performance at a royal cremation ceremony in Klungkung. The dancers then sang in Kawi, and the dance movements were based on those of gambuh. A later development of arja was created around the turn of the 20th century as a village form, as the artistic centres shifted from the courts to the villages. This early form of arja consisted primarily of sung melodies without instrumental accompaniment; it was performed by males only and had very little gambuh influence.

Female performers were added in the 1920s, and around the 1940s–60s the dance-drama developed into its present form of arja gede (‘grand arja’). Performances became quite elaborate and would sometimes last all night. As the sendratari dance-drama form rose in popularity arja became less popular, but it is still held in high esteem by professional performers and literati. Because of the use of Balinese language, it is more accessible to the general population than gambuh. Since its inception, special ‘all-star’ arja troupes known as bon arja (bon, ‘invited’) have been assembled by collecting the finest performers from various areas of Bali. There are also village arja troupes (sebunan). The performance context is primarily one of secular entertainment. Until 1965 arja was performed on a kalangan traditional stage area, but by the 1970s the primary performance space became the proscenium stage.

There are usually four to six noble characters and six male and female servants. The structure roughly follows that of gambuh but without juru tandak, allowing for individual improvisation in response to the audience. Like gambuh, arja stories are based on the Panji Malat texts, but the vocal forms sung by soloists (tembang macapat or pupuh), though based on Javanese songs and metres adopted between the 14th and 16th centuries, are newly composed and in Balinese. There are 13 song-types, seven most frequently used. The singing style of arja is highly developed, employing ornamentation techniques such as tremolos and melismas (geregel), slides (iluk-ilukan) and pamero pitches (ex.9). The singer improvises upon a set skeletal melody. Other vocal forms such as kakawin are sung by noble characters as a symbol of formality and dignity; folksongs and contemporary Indonesian popular songs are sung by servants and coarse type principals. Moods and feelings are also expressed by scale (both slendro and pelog are used) and melody.

The kebyar dance form allowed for dance compositions independent from narrative content. Pieces such as Teruna Jaya were created, depicting the contrasting moods of a youth, based on the legong dance and containing elements of strong male, androgynous and female styles. In an early kebyar dance created by I Mario, the dancer remains seated throughout (Kebyar Duduk); this became a standard segment of kebyar dance choreographies. His later creation Kebyar Trompong, based on Kebyar Duduk, involved the dancer also playing a trompong solo.

The sacred baris gede dance is a martial processional dance that has been transformed into a solo, secular dance performed by boys, which contains the basis for most male dance forms such as the masked dance form, topeng. In the ceremonial form (topeng pajegan) a single male dancer enacts all parts of a story, changing masks behind a curtain. Topeng involving several actors is also performed. The drama is preceded by character (non-narrative) dances: topeng-keras, depicting a strong character type, topeng tua, depicting an old man, and topeng dalem, a refined king. Topeng stories are Balinese historical chronicles (babad).

Kecak, known as the ‘monkey chant’, was created in the early part of the 20th century and is now a popular form of entertainment for Balinese and tourists. The Indian-derived Ramayana epic is enacted by a group of men representing monkey armies and a few male and female principal dancers. Seated in a circle, the monkey army provides a vocalized form of gamelan by chanting the syllable ‘cak’ (chak) in interlocking parts over a sung melodic line. Similar to legong, kecak draws on elements of the sanghyang ritual (fig.11)

(vi) Wayang kulit.

The shadow puppet theatre of Bali (wayang kulit) plays a central role in ceremonial and secular Balinese life. It incorporates vocal and instrumental music with sung poetry, artful puppet carving and manipulation and dance movements, and portrays the many narrative traditions at the core of the Balinese worldview. Performance contexts range from highly sacred wayang lemah (daytime ceremonial wayang in which no puppet screen or lamp is used, and the puppets rest against a line of sacred cotton threads suspended between two sacred saplings) to pure entertainment held in conjunction with odala or life-cycle rites. The most frequently performed stories are taken from the Mahabharata (known as wayang parwa) and Ramayana.

The shadow master (dalang) is both a spiritual practioner and storyteller and a major repository of knowledge of all sorts, as well as being a highly trained musician and singer. Most dalang are men, but there are now some women dalang (fig.10). The dalang is accompanied by a quartet (sometimes a duo) of gender wayang musicians (see §(iii)(b) above), who draw from a body of dramatic and ritual repertory.

The dalang sits before a cloth screen illuminated by a coconut-oil lamp. The puppets are intricately carved from hide to cast shadows on the screen. The dalang narrates and supplies all character voices covering a wide range of timbres and registers. As in dance, characterization includes alus (refined) and keras (strong) characters, expressed by vocal production, movement, iconography and eye shape. Coarse characters have larger eyes, deeper voices, a more raspy timbre and large, jerky movements, while refined characters have narrow eyes, high melodious voices and smooth, small and curvy movements. Noble characters speak only in Kawi (Old Javanese), and two pairs of comic servants, one on the right side of the dalang (generally the kingdom of the good characters) and one on the left (generally evil), translate all dialogue into the vocal vernacular Balinese that the audience can understand. These four comic servants (the punakawan or panasar) are the only indigenous Balinese characters not from the original Indian epics and act as mouthpiece of the dalang (for a detailed study of wayang, see Gold, 1998).

Although Mahabharata and Ramayana stories are the most typical, there are many innovative forms of wayang that draw on other narratives and musical accompaniment from dance-drama counterparts. These include wayang gambuh (Panji tales, accompanied by gamelan gambuh), wayang Calonarang (stories of Rangda and Barong accompanied by semar pagulingan or gamelan batel), wayang Cupak (indigenous Cupak tales, accompanied by batel), wayang arja (Panji tales, developed in 1976 by I Made Sija of Bona, accompanied by gamelan arja or various experimental ensembles), and wayang Sasak (Islamic tales performed by the Sasak population and accompanied by a suling ensemble similar to gambuh). There are two rare but important dance-drama forms based on wayang: wayang wong (‘human puppets’, featuring Ramayana stories, accompanied by batel) and parwa (also danced by humans, featuring Mahabharata stories and gender wayang quartet or batel).

Many contemporary experimental works reflect the interest in reaffirming traditional Balinese culture and village life in the face of a quickly changing Bali. Drawing on sacred vocal chant, everyday village sounds, modern and ancient themes exploring Indian and Balinese heritage, as well as elements of Western music and dance, these multimedia productions reflect a new self-consciousness of the arts, which co-exists with a thriving traditional peforming arts culture well integrated into Balinese culture.

Indonesia, §II: Bali, Lombok and Sumbawa

BIBLIOGRAPHY

general

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J. Kunst: De toonkunst van Java (The Hague, 1934; Eng. trans., 1949, enlarged 3/1973 as Music in Java)

J. Belo: Trance in Bali (New York, 1960)

C. Holt: Art in Indonesia: Continuities and Change (Ithaca, NY, 1967)

J. Belo: Traditional Balinese Culture (New York and London, 1970)

S.O. Robson: ‘The Kawi Classics in Bali’, Bijdragen tot de taal-, land- en volkenkunde, cxxviii (1972), 308–29

P.J. Zoetmulder: Kalangwan (The Hague, 1974)

E. Schlager: Rituel Siebenton-Musik auf Bali (Bern, 1976)

U. Ramseyer: The Art and Culture of Bali (New York and Jakarta, 1977)

M. Hobart: ‘The Path of the Soul: the Legitimacy of Nature in Balinese Conceptions of Space’, Nature Symbols in Southeast Asia, ed. G.B. Milner (London, 1978), 5–28

S.J. Lansing: ‘The Formation of the Court-Village Axis in the Balinese Arts’, Art, Ritual and Society in Indonesia, ed. E. Bruner and J. Becker (Athens, OH, 1979), 10–30

S.O. Robson: ‘Notes on the Early Kidung Literature’, Bijdragen tot de taal-, land- en volkenkunde, cxxxv (1979), 300–22

C. Geertz: Negara: the Theatre State in Nineteenth-Century Bali (Princeton, NJ, 1980)

R.H. Wallis: The Voice as a Mode of Cultural Expression in Bali (diss., U. of Michigan, 1980)

L. Sears: Aesthetic Tradition and Cultural Transition in Java and Bali, ed. S. Morgan and L. Sears (Wisconsin, 1984)

A.H. Vickers: ‘The Realm of the Senses: Image of the Court Music of Pre-Colonial Bali’, Imago Musicae, ii (1985), 143–77

D. Schaareman: Tatulingga: Tradition and Continuity – an Investigation in Ritual and Social Organization in Bali (Basle, 1986)

A. Sanger: The Role of Music and Dance in the Social and Cultural Life of Two Balinese Villages (diss., Queen's U. of Belfast, 1986)

A.H. Vickers: The Desiring Prince: a Study of the Kidung Malat as Text (diss., U. of Sydney,1986)

I M. Bandem, ed.: Prakempa: sebuah lontar gambelan Bali [Prakempa: a lontar on Balinese gamelan] (Denpasar, 1988)

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R. Rubenstein: Beyond the Realm of the Senses: the Balinese Ritual of Kekawin Composition (diss., U. of Sydney, 1988)

F.B. Eiseman: Bali, Sekala and Niskala, i: Essays on Religion, Ritual and Art (Berkeley, 1989)

A. Sanger: ‘Music and Musicians, Dance and Dancers: Socio-Musical Interrelationships in Balinese Performance’, YTM, xxi (1989), 57–69

P.M. Sukerta: Ensiklopedi mini karawitan Bali [Small encyclopedia on Balinese gamelan music] (Surakarta, 1989)

A.H. Vickers: Bali: a Paradise Created (Berkeley, 1989)

E. Herbst: Voices, Energies and Perceptions in Balinese Performance (diss., Wesleyan U., 1990)

C.J. Oja: Colin McPhee: Composer in Two Worlds (Washington, 1990)

M. Picard: ‘“Cultural Tourism” in Bali: Cultural Performances as Tourist Attraction’, Indonesia, no.49 (1990), 37–75

D. Schaareman: ‘The Power of Tones in Balinese Ritual Music’, Indonesia Circle, no.52 (1990), 5–21

S.C. DeVale and I.W. Dibia: ‘Sekar Anyar: an Exploration of Meaning in Balinese Gamelan’, World of Music, xxxiii/1 (1991), 5–51

D. Harnish: Music at the Lingsar Temple Festival: the Encapsulation of Meaning in the Balinese/Sasak Interface in Lombok, Indonesia (diss., UCLA, 1991)

B. Kempers: Monumental Bali: Introduction to Balinese Archeology (Berkeley and Jakarta, 1991)

M. Picard: Bali: tourisme culturel et culture touristique (Paris, 1992; Eng. trans.,1996)

D. Schaareman, ed.: Balinese Music in Context: a Sixty-Fifth Birthday Tribute to Hans Oesch (Basle, 1992) [incl. D. Schaareman: ‘The Shining of the Deity: Selunding Music of Tatulingga (Karangasem) and its Ritual Use’, 173–95; K. Richter: ‘Slendro-Pelog and the Conceptualization of Balinese Music: Remarks on the Gambuh Tone System’, 195–221; L. Gold: ‘Musical Expression in the Wayang Repertoire: a Bridge Between Narrative and Ritual’, 245–77; I W. Dibia: ‘The Arja Theater: Vocal and Instrumental’, 277–97; I Nyoman Wenten: ‘Gamelan Semar Pagulingan: Court Music in Transition’, 297–313]

R.F. Schumacher: ‘“Bala Ugu” and “Aji Kembang” Zwei balinesische Gesänge zwischen den Gattungen’, Von der Vielfalt musikalischer Kultur, ed. R. Schumacher (1992), 465–86

E. Herbst: Voices in Bali: Energies and Perceptions in Vocal Music and Dance Theater (Hanover, NH, 1997)

instruments, ensembles and repertory

C. McPhee: Music in Bali (New Haven and London, 1966/R)

R. Ornstein: Gamelan Gong Kebjar: the Development of a Balinese Musical Tradition (diss., UCLA,1971)

R. Ornstein: ‘The Five-Tone Gamelan Angklung of North Bali’, EthM, xv (1971), 71–80

A. Toth: ‘The Gamelan Luang of Tangkas, Bali’, Selected Reports in Ethnomusicology, ii/2 (Los Angeles, 1975), 65–79

D. Schaareman: ‘The Gamelan Gambang of Tatulingga, Bali’, EthM, xxiv (1980), 465–82

T. Seebass: ‘Notes and Paradigms: Vocal and Instrumental Practice in Ritual Music, Contradiction and Agreement’, IMSCR XIII: Strasbourg 1982, 207–21

I.N. Rembang: Hasil pendokumentasian notasi gending-gending lelambatan klasik pegongan daerah Bali [Documentation of notation of classical lelambatan pieces for gamelan gong in Bali] (Denpasar, 1984–5)

R. Schumacher: ‘Aji Gurnita: eine balinesische Musiklehre’, Jb für musikalische Volks- und Völkerkunde, xii (1985), 13–49

T. Seebass: ‘A Note on Kebyar in Modern Bali’, Orbis Musicae, ix (1986–7), 103–21

P.A. Wolbers: ‘Gandrung and Angklung from Banyuwangi: Remnants of a Past Shared with Bali’, AsM, xviii/1 (1986), 71–90

D. Mack: ‘Balinesische Musik im Unterricht, Sekundarstufe II’, Unterrichtshilfen zum Lehrplan Musik: aussereuropäische Musik, ed. V. Funk and R. Schanz (Mainz, 1987)

L. Peterman: ‘Regional Variations in Balinese Gender Wayang Music: a Comparison and Analysis of Different Local Versions of “Gending Rebong”’, Progress Reports in Ethnomusicology, ii/4–6 (1989), 1–15

K. Yasa: Angsel-angsel gongkebyar (thesis, Sekolah Tinggi Seni Indonesia Surakarta, 1989)

N. Gray: ‘An Introduction to the Sukawati Style of Balinese Gender Wayang’, Indonesia Circle, no.52 (1990), 45–54

D. Harnish: ‘The Preret of the Lombok Balinese: Transformation and Continuity within a Sacred Tradition’, Selected Reports in Ethnomusicology, viii (1990), 201–20

M. Koichi: ‘Balinese Mouthharps: genggong and ngo’, Koukin Journal, i (1990), 18–19

W. Vitale: ‘Kotekan: the Technique of Interlocking Parts in Balinese Music’, Balungan, iv/2 (1990), 2–16

N. Gray: ‘Sulendra: an Example of petegak in the Balinese gender wayang Repertory’, British Journal of Ethnomusicology, i (1991), 1–16

B. Heimark: Gender wayang as a Microcosm of Balinese Culture (thesis, UCLA, 1991)

M. Tenzer: Balinese Music (Singapore, 1991)

I N. Asitita: ‘Gamelan gong gede: sebuah analisis bentuk’ [Gamelan gong gede: a formal analysis], Mudra [special issue] (Denpasar, 1993), 118–28

M.B. Bakan: Balinese kreasi baleganjur: an Ethnography of Musical Experience (diss., UCLA, 1993)

I W. Rai: Balinese Gamelan Semar Pegulingan Saih Pitu: the Modal System (diss., U. of Maryland, 1996)

I W. Rai: Balinese Gamelan Gong Beri (Denpasar, 1998)

M.B. Bakan: Music of Death and New Creation: Experiences in the World of Balinese Beleganjur (Chicago, 1999) [incl. disc]

M. Tenzer: Gamelan Gong Kebyar: the Art of Twentieth-Century Balinese Music (Chicago, 2000)

dance, theatre and wayang

C. McPhee: ‘The Balinese wajang koelit and its Music’, Djawa, xvi (1936), 1–50

B. de Zoete and W. Spies: Dance Drama in Bali (London, 1938, 2/1958/R)

J. Belo: Bali: Rangda and Barong (New York, 1949/R)

I M. Bandem: Panji Characterization in the Gambuh Dance Drama (thesis, UCLA, 1972)

I M. Bandem: Wayang Wong in Contemporary Bali (diss., Wesleyan U., 1980)

I M. Bandem and F.E. deBoer: Kaja and Kelod: Balinese Dance in Transition (New York, 1981, 2/1995)

D.G. Dunn: Topeng Pajegan: the Mask Dance of Bali (diss., the Union for Experimenting Colleges and Universities, 1983)

I M. Bandem: ‘Evolusi legong dari sakral menjadi sekuler dalam tari Bali’ [The evolution of legong from sacred to secular in Balinese dance], Tari, ed. E. Sedyawati (Jakarta, 1984), 162–72

I N. Sumandhi: ‘Gending-gending iringan wayang kulit Bali’ [Pieces accompanying Balinese wayang kulit], Yayasan pewayangan derah Bali, pakem wayang parwa Bali (Denpasar, 1986–7)

A. Hobart: Dancing Shadows of Bali: Theatre and Myth (London, 1987)

M.S. Zurbuchen: The Language of Balinese Shadow Theatre: Explorations in Language and Text (New Jersey, 1987)

U. Ramseyer: ‘Music, Dance and the Textile Craft in Bali’, Visual Anthropology, i (1987–8), 323–33

J. Fowler: ‘The Balinese Theatre: Dance and Drama’, Arts of Asia, xviii/1 (1988), 86–93

K.T. Illing: Das jogèd bungbung: eine musikalisch-historische Studie über Unterhaltungsmusik und -tanz auf Bali (Hamburg, 1990)

I.G.N. Arinton Puja, I.M. Seraya and I.B. Mayun: Nilai-nilai budaya Bali dalam pertunjukan tari cakepung [Balinese cultural values in cakepung dance performance] (Jakarta, 1991)

I W. Lendra: ‘Bali and Grotowski: Some Parallels in the Training Process’, Drama Review, xxxv (1991), 113–39

N.M. Wiratini: Condong and its Roles in Balinese Dance-Drama (thesis, UCLA, 1991)

I W. Dibia: Arja: a Sung Dance-Drama of Bali (diss., UCLA, 1992)

J. Emigh and J. Hunt: ‘Gender Bending in Balinese Performance’, Gender in Performance, ed. L. Senelick (Hanover, NH, 1992), 195–222

I N. Sedana: The Training, Education and the Expanding Role of the Balinese Dalang (thesis, Brown, U., 1993)

H.M. Vonck: ‘The Music of North Balinese Shadow Play: the Dramatic Function of Gender Wayang in Tejakula’, Ethnomusicology in the Netherlands, ed. W. van Zanten and M. van Roon (Leiden, 1995), 145–71

I.W. Dibia: Kecak: the Vocal Chant of Bali (Denpasar, 1996)

L. Gold: The Gender Wayang Repertoire in Theater and Ritual: a Study of Balinese Musical Meaning (diss., U. of California, Berkeley, 1998)

2. Lombok.

This small island is situated east of Bali and west of Sumbawa in the Indonesian archipelago. Its area is about 5435 km² and its population almost two million. The north of the island rises to the elevation of 3726 metres and has a narrow and humid coast, while the central belt (where most of the population lives) consists of fertile lowlands that are fairly dry but permit rice cultivation. The south is hilly, arid and almost uninhabited.

The majority of the population are Sasak, with a Balinese minority. The Boda and the Sasak Wetu Telu have maintained older ways of life, living far from the lines of communication on the northern coast, in the mountains and in the southern hills. But even in the most inaccessible places their culture shows traces of contact with the neighbouring islands and the Balinese minority.

Judging from the close relationship between the Sasak language and western Sumbawanese, it is probable that contact between the two areas existed until the end of the first millennium ce. During the centuries of Hindu-Javanese domination in the archipelago, Lombok came in contact with the Javanese courts. In the 16th century, the Gelgel dynasty of Bali exerted political and cultural influence, the western part of Lombok receiving the surplus of overpopulated Bali. From the 17th century onwards, the Balinese and the Islamic rulers of Mataram (Java) and Makasar (Sulawesi) battled for influence. In the 18th century the rajas of Karangasem in east Bali subjugated the local rulers and set up court in Cakra Negara, which flourished until the late 19th century, supporting an important library and various gamelan ensembles. In 1894 the Dutch government took over, resulting in the mass suicide of the Balinese court, after which the musical tradition of the Balinese in Lombok continued only in the villages. Family contacts brought Sasak servants to Bali, where they now form a minority in the district of Karangasem. In the late 19th century, orthodox Islam (hostile to non-Islamic ceremonies) began to spread on the island, its followers calling themselves the Waktu Lima; the religious and political power of its followers has gradually increased.

Up to the end of World War II only two short articles (Goris, 1936, and Soedijono and Hooykaas, 1941) and two recordings by the Beka company (1928) were produced. Other information is scattered in publications by geographers, biologists and scholars of literature. In 1972 a team of Indonesian and Western musicologists undertook a survey tour and documented every major musical genre of the island (Seebass and others, 1976); this has been followed by research of a more monographic character in selected locations (Harnish, Shimeda and Suwondo).

(i) Music of the Sasak.

At the core of Sasak instrumental music is a small ensemble consisting of a pair of large cylindrical drums played with sticks (kendang beleq), a number of large pairs of bronze cymbals (ceng-ceng and jamprang, with a diameter of 30 cm), two pairs of gong kettles sitting on a small rack (réong, also klenteng, klenong and barong setengkok), a small flat hanging gong (oncer) and a larger gong; if the occasion requires it, a small flute is added. The large drums and the small flat gong are unique to Lombok and give the ensemble its name, kendang beleq or oncer. This ensemble is basic to a number of rituals involving dance. Processional use occurs during wedding rituals, feasts at shrines and temples when sacred cloths are woven, and in connection with official receptions or warfare. Oncer is also used in theatrical performances and in the 1930s was observed in connection with healing ceremonies. The melodic role is secondary; sound and cyclical process are dominated by pulse and syncopated rhythms on the one hand and the dense texture of réongan on the other. The size of the ensemble varies from place to place. In the decades after the dissolution of Balinese rule many gamelan instruments found their way to Sasak villages. This led to new combinations of instruments and the development of hybrids, which sometimes resulted in new musical genres. A derivative of oncer is a larger ensemble called tawaq tawaq. This ensemble is led by two barrel drums; the number of reong and cymbals is increased, and the top part of each pair of cymbals is mounted on a lance decorated with a small banner. A unique feature that, again, gives the ensemble its name, is a medium-sized hanging gong with an extremely large rim, called tawaq tawaq. The occasions for performance are the same as for oncer.

The tawaq tawaq ensemble is related to the rebana ensemble; here the gong kettles are replaced by tuned frame drums (rebana) played with a small stick, and large cylindrical drums replace the suspended gongs; the cymbals are reduced to one small kecek (placed on a rack). The rebana ensemble is favoured by the Waktu Lima. The idea of using tuned drums for playing interlocking patterns is an acculturation from orthodox Muslims in North Sumatra, but the structural organization of the ensemble is the same as tawaq tawaq and oncer; tawaq tawaq and rebana also share a repertory of tunes.

A traditional instrumental genre in which melody plays a prominent part is kamput (or preret). A preret (double-reed aerophone) and a suling (duct flute) play together the melody that is repeated, a jedur (frame drum) and cymbals provide the pulse and the kendang, the rhythmical ornamentation.

In addition to these older, widely distributed Sasak ensembles and genres, there are also newer traditions. The kelenang ensemble performs the Balinese gong kebyar repertory but consists of several gong kemodong, metallophones with two iron keys of slightly different pitches, which are suspended over wooden soundboxes and struck with a soft beater. A remote Sasak village in the south-east mixes some gamelan instruments (possibly from the semar pagulingan ensemble) with Sasak instruments and vocals; a similar change and reduction of a (formerly Balinese) gong gede ensemble has been found in Sembalun.

Research into the island's vocal music has not yet been undertaken. The Balinese communities cultivated the genres they had brought from Bali, but the vocal music of the Sasak is a more complicated matter. There exists a body of Sasak literature written on lontar (palm-leaf manuscripts) and belonging to the category of geguritan (tembang macapat); but pantun (the ubiquitous Malay quatrain) and other metres are also known. The Sasak use geguritan in two ways: as solo performance for ritual purposes and in cepung (cekepung), a sophisticated male entertainment that takes place when gathering over a gourd full of palm wine in the evening and reading the ‘Monyeh’ story; the performance requires a lontar reader and a translator. The two are joined by an instrumentalist with a large, long flute and occasionally by a rebab player and a chorus of singers. Reading and translating alternate with sections in which the chorus sings gamelan pieces, imitating a number of instruments and simultaneously performing a sitting dance. Cepung is also known in east Bali and could have its roots in the same ritual practice as the Balinese kecak, i.e. sanghyang. The research team of 1972 (Seebass and others, 1976) witnessed a performance in a village where the topic of the two singers was a complaint against the government for neglecting their remote and arid area and not providing them with much-needed wells. This genre, as well as solo and choral singing, belongs to the non-literary vocal traditions of tandak and lawas (see Seebass and others, p.50).

The vocal genre gilokaq (gicilokaq) shows the influence of overseas contacts with the Bugis, Makasarese and, more generally, Malay traders and seafarers. Pantun are the textual base, sung by a lead singer and followers to the accompaniment of indigenous guitars (gambus, penting or mandulin), indigenous violins, rebana (or jedur), kecek (or copeq) and kendang. This ensemble, together with the rebana ensemble, is used to accompany rudat dance and performs as well on national holidays. The occasion and the use of Indonesian texts reflect the influence of the pan-Indonesian movement.

Due to the strong presence of the electronic media and Islamic doctrine, casual music-making is on the verge of disappearing, except where tourism has created a new demand. Traces of it are found in the xylophone music, serdong and grantang, in group rice-pounding with interlocking patterns, the playing of the rice straw (gendola) and of two types of jew's harp made from palm rib and sounded by pulling (genggong) or plucking (selober). Under the influence of tourism and through the cultivation of a pan-Indonesian type of formalized performance, genggong is not only played in the traditional manner (by pairing two instruments) but also in orchestral formations with the addition of small suling (flute), guntang (a percussive, one-string tube zither) and kecek.

The musical practices of the Waktu Lima and the Wetu Telu cannot be completely separated from each other. The extent of musical activity in a village depends on the attitudes of local religious authority and on the demand of cultural presentations of music and dance for tourists. Because it was never tied to pre-Islamic rituals, rebana is the most accepted ensemble among the orthodox; wayang performances with appropriate plots are also permitted.

(ii) Music of the Balinese.

Until the destruction of the Balinese court in Cakra Negara, a number of gamelan in pelog tuning probably existed in Lombok. Most of these seem to have been broken up and their instruments sold or otherwise dispersed. Some of them have been incorporated in Sasak ensembles of small size in remote places such as Sembalun (a ‘gamelan gong gede’ consisting of five instruments and used for masked dancing), or Rembitan (a gandrung ensemble with singers, gongs, cymbals, flutes, preret, metallophones and drums) and Baru (a jurujeng ensemble, with similar instruments to the gandrung ensemble, for a traditional temple festival of the Boda). As in Bali, the traditional Balinese society in Lombok has a well-defined set of musical genres tied to the various rituals. For temple festivals, rites of passage, funerals, dance-drama, courtly entertainment and warfare the most important ensemble was the gamelan gong gede. In its processional version it contained a few pairs of réong, several pairs of large ceng-ceng, hanging gongs in various sizes and a pair of large kendang played with sticks. When played in situ the gamelan was completed by metallophones (jongkok), in pairs and four sizes, one or two trompong (gong-chime) and a pair of jegog (large metallophones with tube resonators). A colonial survey of the crafts in Indonesia, published in 1931, mentions the existence of gong smiths, and this finding has been corroborated in recent times.

Whereas on Bali the spread of kebyar (‘to burst open’) style took place in the 1920s and 30s, its spread was less accelerated among the Balinese in Lombok. Although they added a number of gangsa (gantung, metallophones) and rincik (cymbals) to the gamelan for occasional kebyar entertainment, this was not done at the expense of melting down old instruments. Still, when changing musical styles, instruments are switched instead of mixing old types with newer ones, as in Bali. Kebyar style has also entered the Sasak repertory in the kelenang ensemble.

The use of gender wayang for the performance of shadow play has also been documented. So far no data have been collected in Lombok on the types of vocal music current in Bali, nor is anything known about the existence in Lombok of the heptatonic ritual instrumental genres of Bali. Evidence of their use in the 19th century is provided by the lontar Pupuh gending gambang, which survives in the Kirtya Library in Singaraja (Bali). The manuscript contains 14 pieces with kidung (middle-Balinese vocal genre) texts to be sung with the accompaniment of gamelan gambang (ensemble featuring four wooden xylophones), three of which are not found in Balinese sources. This single manuscript compares with almost 100 music lontar surviving in Bali.

It is possible that the village tradition of heptatonic ensembles (gamelan saron, gamelan gambang, gamelan salunding, gamelan luang) so common on Bali was never popular among the Balinese on Lombok, who have their own ritual music: the solo performance of the preret (double-reed aerophone) at temple festivals. In Bali the preret is an extremely rare occurrence; apparently the Lombok Balinese took it over from the Wetu Telu, with whom they share many rituals.

(iii) Wayang.

The most tangible evidence for pre-Islamic contacts with Java is the existence of a Sasak version of the shadow play. The style of the puppets is more realistic than in Java but not as realistic as in Bali, and they are comparatively small in size. This suggests contact with the Javanese courts before the elaborate stylization of human representations under Islamic influence. Among the most popular plots used today is the Serat Menak, which relates the adventures of Amir Hamzah and his successful conversion of enemies to Islam. Goris (1936) also reported Sasak stories (gubahan Sasak). The music of the wayang sasak is unique, with no close relative in Bali or Java. The ensemble lacks the metallophones common in Javanese and Balinese ensembles accompanying forms of wayang and can only be compared with the Balinese wayang gambuh, with which it shares the combination of long vertical flute and spike fiddle, a pair of drums, a suspended gong, small cymbals on a rack and two or three small gong kettles. The structure of the music is not based on the Balinese heptatonic modes and colotomic tabuh forms; instead the mode is pentatonic and strongly hierarchical, with a few nuclear tones ornamented by many secondary pitches. The protracted colotomy typical of Balinese gambuh is absent; rather, the instruments responsible for rhythm and tempo (two drums and the kecek) develop a dense web, rich in syncopations and at a fast pace, while the musical sections are distinct through rhythmic patterns.

(iv) Dance.

Although a number of scholars have mentioned a variety of dances, here, too, substantial research has not yet been undertaken. The combination of processional drumming with dancing seems to be frequent (for example in the genres telek and sesatang), and the use of lances and shields indicates their relation to preparations for war or initiation (such as in the dances oncer and perisean). Almost nothing is known about the dances connected with temple festivals. Another category includes geroh and gandrung, the flirtatious public dances of a single female with a series of males who buy the right to join her with a small fee, a genre which is also common in Bali (under the term joged) and Banjuwangi, East Java. Modern solo dancing (kecimol) also takes place with the accompaniment of popular music of the cilokaq ensemble. Trance dances with the oncer ensemble and sitting dances (with cepung) have also been observed.

Indonesia, §II: Bali, Lombok and Sumbawa

3. Sumbawa.

Sumbawa is thinly populated (about 300,000 people). Anthropologically and linguistically the western and central parts of the island are closely related to the Sasak peoples of Lombok, but the musical ties are not particularly close, while the language of the Bima region in the east is distinct.

Gamelan and shadow play have not reached Sumbawa because of its distance from Indo-Javanese and Indo-Balinese spheres of influence. Although the island is mentioned in the list of countries ruled by Majapahit and although a dynastic connection to Bali existed at one time, Sumbawa's history, language and culture has been shaped by relations to the Makasar and Bugis peoples of South Sulawesi. As a result of orthodox Islamic doctrines, and in contrast to its western and eastern neighbours, no significant instrumental genres seem to have developed. As it is only in recent surveys by Indonesians that preliminary musical data has been unearthed, a detailed account of its music can not yet be given.

The list of musical instruments is headed by the rebana drum (in two sizes, the large rebana kebo and the small rebana ode), followed by the double-reed aerophones bagandang and serune. These two instruments are most typical for Islamic areas and occur on other islands as well. Other instruments include the rice stalk double-reed aerophone and the four-string bamboo tube zither genang air. The two inner strings of the genang air are placed above the soundhole and connected with a piece of bamboo; the right hand beats the open end of the tube while the left hand plucks the outer strings or beats the inner ones. The slit-drum, the large Islamic mosque drum and the pounded rice trough are also found.

Responsorial and group singing are common. Lawas, a poetic genre consisting of three lines with eight syllables each, is performed solo, among two singers, or under the name saketa with choir (gero). It is also performed with instrumental accompaniment under various names, for example sakeco and langko, which are accompanied by rebana and bagandang with serune. The occasions for lawas are many and range from poetic exchange among lovers to social criticism and work songs (herding, rice-pounding etc.). Another important genre is badiya, epic recitation with the accompaniment of the tube zither.

In the Bima and Dompu regions, where feudal structures with Kerajaans and sultanates developed, courtly ceremonies with music and dance were known (Mantja, 1984, 45–7), among them the ded or baded, a special vocal genre connected to ancestor worship, performed with dancing and occasionally with the rhythmical accompaniment of idiophones. Other dances are the perisean, a ritual duel between two young men with leather shields and sticks, the mpisi donggo, performed at funerals to the accompaniment of singing, and for traditional ceremonies, bao daya, pakon and gerok.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

R. Goris: ‘Aanteekeningen over Oost Lombok’, Tijdschrift voor de indische taal-, land- en volkenkunde, lxxvi (1936), 196–248

R. Soedijono and C. Hooykaas: ‘Een Pakon-Ceremonie bij de Waktoe Teloe Sasaks te Songa' op Ooost-Lombok’, Mededeelingen van de Kirtya Liefrink-van der Tuuk, no.16 (1941), 97–109

T. Seebass and others: The Music of Lombok: a First Survey (Berne, 1976)

J. Ecklund: Marriage, Seaworms and Song: Ritualized Responses to Cultural Change in Sasak Life (diss., Cornell U., 1977)

L. Mantja: Sumbawa pada masa dulu: suatu tinjauan sejarah (Surabaya, 1984), 33–41, 45–7

B. Suwondo: Sejarah daerah nusa tenggara barat (Mataram, 1988), 35–6, 74–6

T. Kartikasari, ed.: Upacara tradisional Sorong-serah dan nyodol dalam adat perkawinan Sasak di Lombok (Jakarta, 1991)

T. Shimeda: ‘What Makes People Affected? A Preliminary Report on Music Activities in Sembalun, Lombok, Indonesia’, Temple Festival in Bali: Report of the Group in Indonesia (Tanimura Team) (Osaka, 1991), 129–39

D. Harnish: ‘The Performance, Context and Meaning of Balinese Music in Lombok’, Gedenkschrift Hans Oesch (Winterhtur, 1992), 29–58

D. Harnish: ‘The Future Meets the Past in the Present: Music and Buddhism in Lombok’, ASM, xxv/1–2 (1993–4), 29–50

recordings

Monjéh Tjepoeng Sasak Lombok, Beka B 15619-28189 and 15619-28190 (1928)

Soeling; Monjéh Tjepoeng Sasak Lombok, Beka B 15636-28245 (1928)

Panji in Lombok I: a Cross-Section of the Instrumental Music, coll. T. Seebass, Bärenreiter BM 30 SL 2560 (1977) [with commentary and photographs]

Panji in Lombok II: Kabar Alus – Good News, coll. T. Seebass, Bärenreiter BM 30 SL 2564 (1977) [with commentary and photographs, featuring the rebana, tawa'- tawa' and kelenang ensembles]

Cilokaq Music of Lombok, perf. Al-Mashar and the Pusaka Group ‘Putra Sasak Asli’, King Record KICC 5178 (1994)

3. Instruments and ensembles.

III. Central Java

The central portion of the island of Java, where wide, fertile lowland valleys lie between several large, active volcanoes, became the first centre of Javanese political and cultural power well over 1000 years ago. Explosive growth from the early 19th century to the mid-20th has made this one of the most densely populated areas in the world. Today most of some 60 million ethnic Javanese reside in Central Java alongside a significant Chinese minority. Islam is the religion of the vast majority of Javanese, many of whom also maintain significant animist and Hindu-Buddhist beliefs and practices. Various Christian sects have made converts mainly in the cities. While urban centres have developed around royal courts and elsewhere, the population remains predominantly rural and agrarian, connected to the cities through a complex patchwork of territorial and political allegiances. Extensive social stratification fostered by Javanese nobility is still evident in use of linguistic levels and deferential behaviour.

The music and practices associated with Central Javanese Gamelan, an ensemble of varying composition usually including numerous metallophones and gongs as well as other instruments, are the main topic of this entry. From the late 20th century other types of music have been performed and consumed in Central Java, yet while certain types of popular musics may receive great exposure (see §VIII, 1 below), gamelan music (karawitan) continues to constitute the distinctively Javanese medium of musical expression.

1. History.

2. Musicians.

4. Fundamentals of gamelan music.

5. Regional styles and repertory.

6. Performance contexts.

7. Non-gamelan genres.

8. Research.

1. History.

Little is known of music in early Java. Hood (1980) has speculated on the derivation of Javanese gongs and playing styles from Dongson bronze drums of mainland South-east Asia around 200 bce, though the transition from cast drums to forged gongs remains unclear. Indian influence, which lasted from the 5th to the 10th centuries ce, has not left obvious traces in the music but is central to literature and theatre, where the pre-eminent narratives are the Mahabharata and Ramayana. The term ‘gamelan’ does not appear until much later, but it has been argued that gendhing, used frequently from the 9th century, meant ensemble, not composition as it now does, and that gong was used similarly (Becker, 1993, pp.31–5). Early literary sources, dating mainly from the period when Javanese culture centred in East Java (11th–15th centuries), include numerous brief descriptions of music played for war, celebrations and rituals at the Hindu-Javanese court of Majapahit, centre of a large empire. Terracotta figurines of that period depict not only instruments that are familiar but also some that have continued to be used in Bali but not in Java (such as two small gongs mounted on either end of a pole and a keyed instrument played with two forked beaters), as well as some that have left no direct descendants (such as lutes). Because Bali was under the rule of Majapahit and because Javanese nobility are believed to have fled to Bali when Majapahit fell to Muslim kingdoms from the north coast of Java around 1500, it is widely presumed that archaic aspects of musical instruments and practice maintained in Bali today are closely related to the music of Majapahit.

Little musical evidence survives from the centuries following the fall of Majapahit, although some court instruments still in use are believed to date from that period. Following a tumultuous succession of coastal kingdoms, the centre of power shifted back to Central Java, where Sultan Agung founded a new empire in the 17th century. Reports by early Dutch colonial figures, such as Van Goens, ambassador to Sultan Agung’s court in 1656, give little detail but indicate the existence of a variety of ensembles, including a loud one with gongs, cymbals and drums, as well as ensembles featuring singing and some softer instruments. In this period Chinese and Europeans entered the area in numbers, with the Dutch gradually gaining control of Javanese territory and Chinese providing both middlemen and labourers. In the next centuries the Chinese minority patronized Javanese performing arts as well as Chinese forms and syncretic combinations. The 200 years of Dutch colonial presence (with a brief British interregnum during the Napoleonic wars) have also affected the arts in complex ways not immediately discernible (see Sumarsam, 1995). The Dutch-imposed treaty of Giyanti split Central Java in 1755 into two kingdoms with rival courts (kraton) located in Yogyakarta and Surakarta (also known as Solo). Further rivalries led to the creation of a minor court in each of these cities: the Paku Alaman in Yogyakarta and the Mangkunegaran in Surakarta.

By the 19th century many composition titles known today were already recorded in court manuscripts such as the famous Serat Centhini, and there is reason to believe that there has also been substantial musical continuity. Pélog and sléndro ensembles may not yet have been combined into one large gamelan, but most of the instruments known today were included in each, and the two were united in the now standard sléndro-pélog gamelan later in the century. The number of kenong (horizontally-suspended bossed gong) and kempul (vertically-suspended bossed gong) has since grown, a few instruments (such as the gambang gangsa, a multi-octave metallophone) have dropped out of use, and at least one, the gendèr panerus, has been added (about 1850). Current forms of dance and theatre can also be traced to this time, though considerable change has occurred.

From the middle of the 19th century to World War II, there was tremendous activity in all performing arts. The four courts marshalled large numbers of musicians, dancers and dalang (shadow puppeteers), vying with one another (perhaps in lieu of warfare, which the Dutch suppressed) by presenting numerous spectacular performances and sponsoring creation of new genres and compositions. Attribution of works to rulers began to give way to naming actual composers and choreographers; various village practices, such as particular dances and drumming styles, were adopted and adapted at the courts. Court practices also spread to villages and urban performers through schools for dance, wayang (shadow play) and music established by the courts in Surakarta and Yogyakarta, as well as through radio broadcasts, which began in the 1920s. Vocal compositions proliferated, and innovation mainly involved creating parallels to existing forms (similar activity may have occurred earlier, but probably not to such a degree). Activity in the performing arts ended with the Japanese occupation (1942–5) and the subsequent struggle for Indonesian independence from Dutch rule (1945–9).

As the new Indonesian republic replaced both colonial rule and the feudal system embedded within it, the royal courts lost much of their wealth and ability to maintain large numbers of musicians and other performers. Many found new homes at the state radio stations in Surakarta and Yogyakarta. Some went to teach at the state-established conservatories (Konservatori Karawitan in Surakarta, 1951; Konservatori Tari Indonesia, Yogyakarta, 1961) and later the academies of the arts, ASKI (Akademi Seni Karawitan Indonesia, Surakarta, 1964) and ASTI (Akademi Seni Tari Indonesia, Yogyakarta, 1963), maintaining some of the dominance of court practice. These state schools fostered creative work alongside documentation and preservation of older practices. Beginning in the 1970s compositional activity has ranged from rearrangement of traditional elements to radical departures, including the development of new instruments (see Suwardi, al.). As these schools took in students and instructors from other parts of Indonesia and adopted a pluralistic curriculum that included other Indonesian traditions (particularly Balinese and Sundanese), a broader spectrum of instruments and idioms became available, and composers at these institutions entered a pan-Indonesian arena of intellectual and artistic discourse.

Alongside this academy-centred activity, musical innovation was led in the post-independence decades by figures such as Kanjeng Radèn Tumenggung Wasitodiningrat (see fig.11) and Ki Nartosabdho. This has involved considerable mixing of genres and styles, so that regional and genre distinctions have been blurred. The breakdown of regional distinctions was also hastened by the rapid spread of cheap cassettes from the 1970s onward, most recordings featuring Solonese style. The most popular dhalang now appear to have the greatest influence over musical change as they promote their own compositions and compete for an audience by introducing new elements (such as cymbals and snare drums) or other types of popular entertainment into wayang kulit. Non-traditional instruments such as electric bass have been added to the gamelan for the campursari (‘mixed essence’) genre. In recent decades the characteristic smoothness of Javanese music has been disrupted by sudden contrasts of tempo and dynamics.

Gamelan has long been a potent icon of royal power, both because of the spiritual power vested in royal regalia (pusaka) and because of the expense and exclusivity of such instruments. The courts maintain numerous old sets of instruments; gamelan instruments, compositions and dances have been tools of diplomacy for several centuries at least, exchanged as gifts at marriages joining the royal families of not only Central Java but also of Madura. Political connections also brought Javanese musical instruments and practices to Sunda, West Java and Banjarmasin, Sulawesi. In post-colonial and post-feudal times the Indonesian government has spread arts diplomacy to many parts of the world through gifts of gamelan and frequent missions by performance troupes, including many from Central Java. These are some of the ways in which the government has assumed some of the roles of the royal courts as arts patrons; its establishment of performing arts academies, staffed at first by former court performers, is another, as is the mandate given these institutions to record and preserve previously restricted royal repertory.

2. Musicians.

Javanese of all social classes play gamelan, but aristocrats and members of other élites rarely perform professionally; music and dance are seen as training for achieving refinement and harmony. Professional musicians are predominantly male, but female singers (Pesindhèn) stand out as the most visible, audible and highly paid performers. Women also play all of the instruments of the gamelan, but with the exception of gendèr players (Weiss, 1993), they usually do so in gender-segregated amateur groups. Remuneration for performance is usually quite low for all but drummers and female singers; only musicians who perform regularly in popular shadow-play troupes and those who manage to find a position in the government bureaucracy, teaching in the schools or performing in the radio station ensembles, are able to make a living as musicians.

Formal musical study was uncommon until the mid-20th century. Despite the spread of institutionalized teaching, musicians continue to learn from many sources through repeated exposure and attempts at imitation. Since most musicians do not own instruments, learning and practicing are inherently social activities, requiring access to a set of instruments and involvement in a group situation. Sitting in and around the gamelan in performance is widely accepted from earliest childhood. The incorporation within a gamelan of roles of gradated difficulty enables beginners to participate alongside far more capable musicians. Most musicians gain competence on all of the simpler instruments; many can also play at least some of the complex ones. It is particularly common to learn from older relatives, who may demonstrate or correct but rarely teach systematically. Cassette recordings have facilitated and altered the process of imitation from the 1970s by offering a broad array of stylistic resources and enabling exact, unlimited repetition of a model for imitation.

The establishment of performing arts schools has changed education processes by offering students systematic training in gamelan, dance and puppetry, though many musicians continue to learn informally. Students at these institutions develop a broader competence than other musicians because they learn several different styles of Javanese gamelan as well as music from other parts of Indonesia (principally Bali and West Java). Use of notation and a more verbalized, analytical approach to musical practice also distinguish this training. Since students from these institutions often teach gamelan in general schools, their standardized versions of performance practice and repertory are affecting the mainstream, diminishing but not eliminating regional and individual stylistic diversity.

Javanese royal courts and lesser noble houses maintained numerous musicians, dancer-actors and puppeteers. In the heyday of the Kraton, the major palace of Surakarta, seven different groups of musicians were part of its many-tiered bureaucracy, including those associated with the crown prince and the prime minister. Musicians moved through an explicit system of ranks linked to particular instruments of the gamelan, with a few musicians at the apex of this system attaining noble rank. Members of the aristocracy often studied music and dance but were far more likely to dance than to play gamelan in court performances. Today a small number of musicians perform for court occasions and radio broadcasts from the palace (similar complexity and subsequent decline occurred at the Kraton of Yogyakarta). Smaller versions of these organizations developed at the Mangkunegaran and Paku Alaman, the minor courts of Surakarta and Yogyakarta.

The gamelan musicians at the government’s radio stations in Surakarta and Yogyakarta have been highly influential, spreading their playing styles and repertory farther afield than most other groups through frequent broadcasts and numerous commercial recordings. The only non-governmental groups to approach such distribution have been those associated with the most influential shadow-puppet masters (dhalang), Ki Nartosabdho and Ki Anom Suroto.

There are numerous other professional and semi-professional gamelan groups, some associated with a particular dhalang and others with municipal or educational institutions. The spectrum of experience and ability shades off into amateur groups linked to schools, banks, government offices and other institutions that tend to serve a social function, but may also provide music for the sponsoring institution’s celebrations. Other performance opportunities include regional competitions and radio broadcasts on public and private stations.

3. Instruments and ensembles.

Gamelan instruments are tuned to two systems (laras): pentatonic sléndro and heptatonic pélog. Pitches are commonly represented by kepatihan notation, with 1, 2, 3, 5 and 6 for sléndro and 1 to 7 for pélog (superscript and subscript dots indicate upper and lower octaves, respectively). Tuning varies considerably from one gamelan to the next, both in absolute pitch and in relative size of intervals, engendering considerable scholarly debate over the theory and aesthetics of tuning. Further complexity results from stretching of octaves on fixed pitch instruments, singers’ and rebab (spike fiddle) players’ individual intonations, and the varying relationship between the two halves of a sléndro-pélog gamelan: some sets coincide (tumbuk) on pitch 6, others on 1, 2 or 5 (Table 4). Certain gamelan sets are valued for their particular tunings and may be models for other sets. The gendèr (14-key metallophone) is usually used as a standard for tuning the rest of the gamelan.

Instrumentation is flexible: ‘complete’ gamelan may vary greatly in the number of saron (metallophone, fig.12a), kempul (vertically suspended bossed gong), kenong (horizontally suspended bossed gong) and gong (fig.13; for further detail on instrumentation see Gamelan, §I). Yet this hardly affects performance practice and repertory. Likewise, the quality of the instruments, ranging from old, beautifully forged and tuned bronze to cheaper brass and iron, affects the overall sound but not the choice of repertory or performance practice. On the other hand, the availability of only one tuning restricts the choice of repertory, although many sléndro pieces may be played on a pélog ensemble. Two variant ensembles are sufficiently different to warrant specific terms: first, the small gamelan gadhon, which features the softer panerusan (elaborating) instruments rebab (spike fiddle, fig.11), gendèr, gendèr panerus (small 14-key metallophone), gambang (wooden xylophone), suling (bamboo duct flute) and siter or celempung (zithers) as well as some of the basic instruments including kendhang (drum), slenthem (low-pitched metallophone), some sort of gong and occasionally other colotomic instruments; second, in soran or bonangan performance the bonang (gong-chime, fig.12b) and saron predominate and the soft instruments are lacking. These two subsets may also be heard as alternating textures within a performance by a full ensemble: the loud instruments come to the sonic foreground at certain points (usually beginnings, fast transitions and some endings) and in certain pieces (particularly the shorter forms), while the softer, more complex sound of panerusan emerges in slower tempi and longer pieces.

Certain royal ensembles present different (and possibly earlier) approaches to instrumentation. Gamelan monggang (see Gamelan, fig.1), kodhok ngorèk and carabalèn all feature gongs and gong chimes in different sizes and combinations. They are reserved for ceremonial occasions and have a small repertory of pieces specific to each ensemble. Only the ceremonial gamelan sekatèn overlaps significantly with the common gamelan in instrument types and repertory (though not in performing practice; see §6 below).

4. Fundamentals of gamelan music.

Javanese gamelan music is renowned for its complex texture consisting of many layers that differ in register, speed, timbre and playing idiom. With few exceptions, the faster the part the higher the register. Faster parts relate to slower ones by powers of two except for the complex and often unmetred rhythms of the vocal, rebab and suling melodies. Heterophony and polyphony are equally unsatisfactory descriptions of gamelan texture, which is characterized both by considerable independence and by extensive melodic derivation of one part from another.

Various functional divisions of the gamelan have been proposed. While all are problematic, partly because instruments may fulfil more than one function, the following functions are useful: a) demarcation of progress through time; b) basic melody; c) melodic elaboration; and d) rhythmic elaboration and control of tempo.

Binary and cyclical organisation are fundamental to Javanese musical structure: most pieces are based on cycles whose length is a power of two (particularly 8, 16, 32, 64 and 128). These may, in theory, be repeated endlessly; in practice, only the shortest pieces are repeated numerous times. Cycles are absent from certain song-based genres such as sulukan (which also lack a metre) and palaran, in which the phrases are of uneven and unpredictable length. Conceptual stress is also binary: in a four-beat gatra, the fundamental unit of Javanese music, the fourth is the strongest, the second is next in emphasis, and the first and third beats are considered weak. This end-weighted pattern of relative stress results from the convergence of various parts on particular beats rather than dynamic accents played by any one musician. Despite the prevalence of cyclical organization, linear temporality is evident on many levels: within cyclical structures, in the progressions within medleys of compositions and in the overall sequence of pieces in a performance.

Cyclical Javanese forms are defined by cycle length and by the colotomic pattern articulating this cycle and its subdivisions. This pattern consists of a hierarchical sequence of strokes on gongs of varying shape, timbre and register. Three types of gong are used in all colotomic patterns: the end is marked by a large hanging gong (gong ageng) or, in the shortest cycles, by a slightly smaller and higher pitched gong suwukan; the kenong (distinguished from the big gongs by horizontal suspension, shape, a clear, ringing timbre and relatively high pitch) marks the middle and end of the cycle and usually the quarter and three-quarter points; the kethuk (horizontally suspended like the kenong but much smaller) is used to mark further subdivisions (Table 5). Its characteristic dull timbre is further differentiated from the kenong and gong by playing technique: a damped stroke or rapid series of strokes.

Other colotomic instruments include kempul, kempyang, engkok, kemong and kemanak. The kempul (a medium-sized hanging gong sounding in the octave between gong ageng and kenong) is not played in long cycles but marks the point midway between kenong strokes in cycles of short and medium length (8 to 32 beats) and is hierarchically more important than kenong in very short cycles (1 to 4 beats), sounding on every second kenong stroke. The kempyang (a small, high-pitched, horizontally suspended gong or pair of gongs) and engkok and kemong (a pair of small, high-pitched, hanging gongs less common than the kempyang and limited to sléndro gamelan) mark smaller subdivisions in certain pieces, flanking the kethuk strokes. In certain court dances a pair of kemanak (small, banana-shaped slit gongs) are played in alternation by two musicians to mark the smallest subdivisions of the cycle.

Irama, another fundamental aspect of temporal organization, denotes not only a given tempo level but a particular rhythmic ratio between the beat and the faster-moving parts. Binary subdivision reigns here too: in a fast irama the saron peking (or saron panerus, a high-pitched metallophone), bonang barung (gong-chime) and gendèr are played twice as fast as the saron melody, whereas in slower irama this ratio shifts to 4:1, then 8:1 and finally 16:1. This is accomplished by extreme expansion of the melody rather than by doubling the speed of the elaborating parts: the duration of a cycle depends not only on its length in beats but on the irama at which it is played. Virtually every cyclical gamelan piece can be played in at least two irama, and some in all five. Change from one irama to another is usually gradual, a steady acceleration leading to the next level of contraction or a retard leading to expansion; more limited tempo changes are possible without changing irama. Changes are highly significant, cueing the end of a piece or a transition to the next section, for example. Finally, there are often fundamental tempo differences between performance contexts; for example, in a given irama theatrical music tends to be played faster than non-theatrical music.

Javanese music is now notated with ciphers ranging from 1 to 7, but no hierarchy is implied by these numbers; some pieces have a clear tonal centre, many others do not. Heptatonic pélog scale and pentatonic sléndro are mutually exclusive in traditional practice. In some sléndro pieces rebab and vocal parts overlay pélog-like intervallic patterns, a practice known as barang miring. Many pélog pieces use a five-note subset of pélog: elaborating instruments such as gendèr and gambang exist in versions that are tuned either to 1–2–3–5–6 or 2–3–5–6–7.

Melodic organization is subject to the constraints of pathet, roughly translatable as ‘mode’. Pathet is both a classification system and a system governing melodic choices (see Mode, §V,4(ii)). As a classification system it is applied to repertory and limits the pieces that can be played at a given point in a performance or joined together in a medley. As a system of melodic choices, pathet affects composition and musicians’ semi-improvisatory elaborations of the melodic essence of a piece.

The nature of this melodic essence has generated extensive debate and numerous attempts to pin down the most important or characteristic strand among the simultaneous manifestations of this essence. One candidate, the balungan (skeleton), is the relatively simple multi-octave melody played on the saron (within its one-octave range), from which some of the other parts can, in fact, be derived; the rebab melody is another central strand, while vocal melodies are clearly the source for some compositions (Susilo, 1989 and Sumarsam, 1995), and some musicians claim that all composition is vocally derived. But musicians and scholars also postulate an unplayed conceptual melody that has been named lagu (lit. ‘melody’; Sutton, 1979) or ‘inner melody’ (Sumarsam, 1984) or even balungan, giving that term a second meaning (Supanggah, 1988; see Perlman, 1994 for detailed discussion of this topic).

The conceptual melody and the most wide-ranging melodic parts (rebab, gambang, vocals) have an ambitus of 2·5 octaves. Other instruments, such as the gendèr and the bonang, have slightly smaller melodic ranges, whereas the balungan-playing instruments (various saron and slenthem) are limited to about one octave, which leads to characteristic ways of compressing the melody (ex.10).

Differences of register are tremendously important: on multi-octave instruments it is crucial that musicians know the appropriate register for a given phrase. Many pieces have high-register sections designated ngelik or lik. Contrasts between low and medium register are also significant in many compositions, although no term specifically designates sections in these registers. There is considerable variety in the shaping of Javanese melodies, but certain characteristic contours recur with great frequency. That contour is a key element in Javanese musicians’ conceptualization of melody is evident in the ease with which musicians transpose melodies from one tuning to another and from one scale step to another, often altering the intervallic content of a melody considerably.

The densest and sparsest strands in gamelan texture can be characterized as elaborations and abstractions, respectively, of some central melody. Traditionally, Javanese composers have not orchestrated pieces because they can rely on competent musicians to produce elaborations and abstractions for a given melody following the idiomatic constraints associated with particular instruments or vocal roles. Instead, composers have specified a form and pathet, composed a balungan to fit that form and perhaps transmitted a conception of the melodic flow of the piece through the rebab melody, in some cases also specifying a choral melody.

Garapan (‘cultivation’) is the creation of an idiomatic realization of the essence of a piece. For instruments such as saron peking, bonang and bonang panerus (high-pitched gong chime) this can be a relatively straightforward doubling of pairs of notes from the balungan involving anticipation (ex.11). Formulaic abstractions and elaborations may also be played on the larger saron. Garapan for the more complex parts requires a thorough knowledge of the patterns associated with a particular instrument, the conceptual melody of the piece and familiarity with analogous pieces, as well as an understanding of the constraints of pathet and other aspects of performance practice, such as irama and drumming styles. Basic patterns of elaboration (cèngkok) are conceptualized as abstractions that can generate infinite variations (wiletan, see ex.12).

A cèngkok is goal-orientated, characterized by the pitch on which it ends (sèlèh), pathet, starting pitch and register. Most cèngkok can be transposed, but modal identity may change. Transfer of patterns from sléndro to pélog is particularly common. There are some parallels between instruments (and vocals) although idiomatic characteristics will almost always generate some distinctiveness (ex.13).

Realization of a piece through selection of appropriate cèngkok is not thoroughly formulaic. While sèlèh tend to occur at the end of each gatra and most cèngkok are therefore four beats long, many instances demand different interpretations. Furthermore, the idioms of some instruments are more formulaic than others. Some strikingly idiosyncratic passages for rebab, gendèr, pesindhèn and sometimes kendhang are designated pamijèn (‘singular’) and must be learnt specifically from other musicians.

In many cases competent musicians can perform a piece they have never heard by following the lead musicians and choosing corresponding cèngkok; the idiomatic time lag between rebab melody and sindhènan, for example, affords the pesindhèn time to follow the rebab and other key instruments. Likewise, players of instruments such as gendèr panerus and siter can repeat static patterns while deducing the approaching sèlèh from other musicians’ parts. Garapan also involves expansion and contraction of patterns by a factor of two in order to adapt to different irama (ex.14).

A variety of Javanese musical forms, differing greatly in length and performance practice, derives from various contractions or expansions of a few basic colotomic structures, some regular and symmetrical and others irregular. The length of the cycle in regular forms is between 8 and 256, consisting of four (or, in ketawang and ketawang gendhing, two) subsections of equal length, each ending with a kenong stroke and hence termed kenongan. This pervasive structural symmetry is broken in only a few pieces. Longer forms are distinguished by the number and density of kethuk strokes per kenongan (see Table 2 above). A further distinction may be made between the shorter ones (lancaran, ketawang and ladrang) in which the kenongan is no longer than eight beats and is subdivided by a kempul stroke, and the longer mérong and inggah forms, which have kenongan of 16, 32 or 64 beats and do not include kempul (Solonese terminology is used here; the Yogyanese equivalent of inggah is dhawah).

The irregular gendhing lampahan forms have much denser colotomic structures with phrases of varying length and differ in performing practice. For instance, they begin with a brief drum solo rather than the melodic introductions (buka) of colotomically regular forms. They also tend to have special ending phrases (suwuk) that can be played at various points in the course of the piece, unlike colotomically regular pieces that must be played through to the end of the cycle. This distinction is particularly significant in theatrical accompaniment.

Mérong and inggah sections are not usually performed as separate entities, but are played in relatively fixed pairs to constitute gendhing, the longer compositions in the Central Javanese repertory. Some inggah sections are firmly bound to a particular mérong, whereas others may be ‘borrowed’ to play with another mérong. Gendhing may also have transitional sections (umpak inggah) played between the mérong and inggah or sesegan sections played as a rapid conclusion after the inggah.

A gamelan composition may also extend beyond a single cycle if its melody spans two or more repetitions of a single colotomic structure; or the melody may be expanded and altered for different irama. Many pieces feature the distinctive, high-register lik or ngelik section that contrasts with the basic section of the piece, sometimes called umpak. The lik may be an integral part of the piece, played at every iteration, or an auxiliary section that is played once or not at all, depending on circumstances and the leaders’ decisions.

Irregularly structured gendhing lampahan (‘walking pieces’) are far less numerous than the regularly structured pieces but are played with great frequency, particularly in theatre to accompany movement such as battle and travel. Three types are recognized in Solonese practice: ayak-ayakan, srepegan and sampak (Yogyanese usage differs; see Table 6); some gendhing lampahan have lik sections.

TABLE 6: Comparison of Solonese and Yogyanese
Gendhing Lampahan

Balungan beat per	Solonese Term	Yogyanese Term
kempul/gong



8	none	Ayak-ayakan



4	Ayak-ayakan	Srepegan/Slepegan



2	Srepegan/Slepegan	Playon/Sampak



1	Sampak	Sampak Gara-gara



After Sutton 1991, p.30.

A more radical contrast to gendhing is found in unaccompanied song (see §5 below) and in sulukan, a genre of short, unmetrical pieces played on a small subset of the gamelan (Table 7). There are three types of sulukan: pathetan (Yogyanese lagon), sendhon and ada-ada; these are sung in theatrical performances by the narrator to express a mood (calmness, upset and anger, respectively). Gong, kenong and kempul add punctuation, which is connected loosely to vocal phrase endings rather than being bound to a particular colotomic framework. In non-theatrical contexts only pathetan are commonly performed, usually without vocal or gongs.

TABLE 7: Instrumentation for Sulukan (Solonese style)



	Pathetan	Sendhon	Ada-ada


rebab	X	–	–



gendèr	X	X	X



gambang	X	X	–



suling	X	X	–

These contrasting attitudes towards musical time and form are combined in gendhing kemanak and palaran (Yogyanese rambangan). Gendhing kemanak accompany certain female court dances and involve a sparse texture of colotomic parts and drum with choral singing that is rhythmically defined but only occasionally aligns metrically with the colotomic structure. Palaran, performed by a solo singer and most of the instruments of the gamelan, are based on a rhythmically free vocal melody set to the short colotomic pattern of srepegan, but with flexible phrase lengths determined by singer and drummer.

Performance practice varies considerably according to the form of a composition, affecting orchestration, volume, playing style, tempo, irama and other aspects of timing. The mérong section of a gendhing, for example, is almost invariably begun in irama tanggung, slowing to irama dadi within the first 20 beats or so, then remaining there until the leading musicians decide to move on to the inggah. This transition is cued by an acceleration, returning to irama tanggung, and then a retardation as the end of the mérong or transitional cycle is reached. There is more variety in the performance of inggah, which are generally more lively in character than the calm mérong. This difference in character may be evident in the drumming style, the choice of irama and tempo, the addition of interlocking handclapping by the male chorus and generally more rhythmically active elaboration such as interlocking bonang parts (ex.15) or more complex gendèr playing. Traditionally, orchestration has not been specified: various groups of instruments and voices shift in and out of the sonic foreground with changes in irama and drumming style.

The drummer determines much of the sequence by controlling irama and by choosing particular drum patterns (ex.16). On the largest drum, kendhang gendhing, sparse patterns are played with little variation. Consisting of particular sequences of low- and medium-pitched strokes (dah and dhung or thung, respectively) played with the right hand, these patterns are linked directly to musical forms; a complete pattern corresponds to one gong cycle. Light filler strokes played with either hand regulate tempo, and a short, simple pattern, varied only to mark ends of phrases, may be added on the smallest drum, ketipung, by the main drummer or a second musician. Other drum patterns, chiefly for the smaller forms such as ladrang, involve interlocking strokes on large and small drums. The most ornate drumming, with much greater individual variation, is played on a medium-size drum, the ciblon (Yogyanese batangan), for concert and dance music, or the slightly larger, lower-pitched kendhang sabet for theatre. A large vocabulary of drum strokes is used to create a rapid, lively and supple flow of great rhythmic complexity.

Certain forms may have more than one drumming pattern. The drummer’s choice, depending to some extent on context and the desired mood, will affect the way other musicians play. For instance, ciblon drumming generally calls for interlocking (imbal) of large and small bonang as well as more ornate playing on instruments such as the gendèr. Special patterns are played to end a piece or cue a transition.

Some of the most subtle and crucial aspects of Javanese musical performance involve deviations from metronomic time. The beat is most frequently stretched approaching the end of a cycle, involving a complex interaction that is not solely under the drummer’s control.

5. Regional styles and repertory.

Intense awareness of regional traditions is prevalent in Java, as in other parts of Indonesia. Distinctive artistic traditions have developed in various parts of Central Java with commonly recognized traditions linked to each of the four royal courts, the coastal city of Semarang (a tradition that has been largely displaced by Surakarta style) and various rural regions such as Wonogiri, Klaten and Boyolali, the most distinctive being that of Banyumas, an area lying on the border of West Java. There is considerable mixing with neighbouring performing arts traditions in border areas such as Cirebon in the north-west.

Regional diversity is conceived to be characterized by distinctive playing styles, repertory and other aspects of musical practice. Drumming, bonang playing, saron elaboration techniques and vocal styles tend to differ most dramatically. Repertory also varies, with certain compositions specific to a given area and others existing in several regional variants (ex.17). Many differences are difficult to pin down, but significant issues of local and regional identity persist (Sutton, 1991). Heightened awareness of regional differences feeds both conservative and innovative attitudes towards the arts, leading both to calls for stylistic purity and to extensive borrowing.

Rather than a global Javanese musical repertory there are numerous repertories, defined by socio-geographical distinctions, performance context or musical structure. These overlap and relate to one another in other ways. Likewise, repertory size is difficult to measure, owing to varying inclusions and exclusions as well as pervasive variation. Some pieces are very specifically defined with titles and relatively fixed musical content. Many are more loosely defined. One large, well-known collection (Mloyowidodo, 1977) contains well over 1000 discrete items from the Solonese (i.e. from Surakarta) repertory; yet even for this stylistic region it is incomplete, lacking gendhing lampahan, sulukan, other primarily theatrical music, some ceremonial pieces and various lighter pieces, not to mention hundreds of more recent compositions. Pieces are rarely linked to specific composers, and even the work of living composers may be played widely without acknowledgment. Attribution to a single composer can be problematic, since compositional activity can involve rearrangement of existing elements or additions of new texts or vocal melodies to existing pieces.

Singing is an integral part of the Javanese poetic system. Over the past 1000 years the majority of Javanese writing has been cast in poetic verse meant to be sung rather than read silently. Poetic metres include Sanskrit-based sekar ageng (‘large song/poem’) derived from India and indigenous macapat metres. Each is associated with particular melody types and performance practices enabling knowledgeable singers to ‘recite’ any text composed in one of these metres. Macapat and sekar ageng can be sung unaccompanied in various contexts, including gamelan performances, in which they substitute for the introduction to a gamelan composition (bawa) or are inserted in a break in the middle of a piece. The melodies of macapat and sekar ageng vary with context and performance genre, ranging from syllabic recitation to highly ornate and melismatic settings and from ametrical to strictly metrical.

Macapat are also commonly incorporated into various gamelan genres. At one extreme are pieces termed gendhing sekar and palaran, in which the macapat-derived vocal melody determines the melodic content of the other parts. In many other pieces singers may add vocal lines as part of the instrumental texture. Interchangeability of texts is the rule, with specifically composed texts being much rarer; exceptions include some court dances and the light repertory of dolanan, gamelan settings of children’s songs.

Purely instrumental music includes ceremonial gendhing bonang, featuring the bonang and the louder instruments, which may be played on a regular gamelan and the more restricted repertory of ceremonial ensembles such as gamelan kodhok ngorèk and sekatèn. In addition, various pieces, particularly ladrang and lancaran, may be performed soran (in loud style without vocal and panerusan instruments), depending on context or available ensemble.

Gendhing, the most numerous genre, are characterized and classified by tuning, ‘mode’ (pathet), form and sometimes by drum pattern. Musicians of the Surakarta and Yogyakarta traditions differ among themselves over the details of these distinctions, but the principles are similar. Tripartite classifications predominate, often on the basis of large, medium and small ‘sizes’ of musical forms. As with poetic metres, the modifiers alit, tengahan and ageng refer to gradations of size (small, medium and large, respectively), although in both cases the distinctions are not clear-cut. The full title of a piece usually includes significant information about its form and/or performance practice.

Modal identity is one of the most fundamental characteristics of a piece. While some pieces, such as Ladrang Sobrang, exhibit characteristics of two or more pathet, each piece has a ‘home’ pathet. This constrains musicians’ interpretations and where they will place the piece in the performance (see §6(i) below). Piece types are not evenly distributed across the six main pathet of the Central Javanese modal system. There are some general parallels between corresponding pathet in the sléndro and pélog systems (Table 8), such as a preponderance of longer, more serious pieces in pélog lima and sléndro nem, whereas male choral singing is far more common in the other pathet. There are also some important differences between the two tunings. Sléndro pieces are commonly performed in pélog, but the reverse is not true. Furthermore, the transformation of pieces does not necessarily follow the pairing of pathet that otherwise obtains: a piece in sléndro manyura may be transferred to pélog nem or pélog barang, with strikingly different results. Distinctions between pélog lima and pélog nem are sufficiently problematic to cause considerable differences of opinion over classification of pieces. In Yogyakarta this is sometimes solved by describing both categories as pathet bem.

TABLE 8: Pathet Pairs

	laras

		Sléndro	Pélog
pathet	sequence

	first	Nem	Lima


	second	Sanga	Nem


	third	Manyura	Barang


Night performances of klenèngan or wayang follow this order, theoretically apportioning a third of the time to each pathet in sléndro or to each pair if both tunings are used. In theory, morning klenèngan would use the third pathet, then the second, and end in the third while afternoon klenèngan use only the third pathet.

Pieces are further distinguished, albeit less systematically, according to mood or character. The three fundamental categories are regu (majestic, solemn character), pernès (lighter, more playful, even coquettish character) and gecul (comic character). Pieces in the last category sometimes include the word gecul in their titles and may feature some transgression of the conventions that inform most of the repertory.

Indonesia, §III, 6: Central Java: Performance contexts

6. Performance contexts.

Javanese gamelan is commonly performed in a variety of contexts; there can be considerable overlap in performance settings, patronage and musical repertory. Many aspects of performance practice, as well as some items of repertory, are context-specific, but even these may be ‘borrowed’ (e.g. transferred from a dance genre to a theatrical performance of some sort). Performers tend to be keenly aware of the original contexts of musical items and practices and differ in their readiness to accept or promulgate such borrowings.

Performance does not usually take place in a concert hall on a proscenium stage, although such settings do exist now at government radio stations and institutions such as the SMKI (Sekolah Menengah Karawitan Indonesia) conservatory high school in Surakarta. Rather, the more traditional setting is a pendhapa, a square or rectangular structure with raised floor and peaked roof supported on numerous columns. One side may be attached to the verandah of a building, while the other sides are open. Musicians and audience traditionally sit on the floor, though chairs have come into use for the audience in some circumstances. Dance and theatre performances generally draw much larger audiences, with the uninvited often standing on the ground outside the pendhapa. Such structures were a standard element of traditional aristocratic architecture and are particularly large and numerous in Javanese palaces. Traditional village houses lack such opulent structures but often have a panelled front wall that can be removed, enabling hundreds of people to hear and see the performance that takes place under the pendhapa-like roof of the front room. In other situations, temporary structures are erected with a raised platform for the performers, often occupying an alley next to the celebrants’ house. More intimate performances may be held inside a house.

Most performances are sponsored to celebrate a particular occasion, such as a birth, a circumcision, a wedding, independence day, the beginning of the Javanese year or some other important event or anniversary. People also sponsor performances to mark their wétonan (a commemoration of a birthday that recurs every 35 days), to fulfill a vow or to ward off evil. Sponsors may be individuals or corporate entities such as a bank, a whole village or a government institution. Sponsors not only hire the performers but provide them (and, in some cases, the audience) with food. Invitations are often issued, but the uninvited are rarely excluded and may be numerous, particularly if the performers are well known. Very few events require the purchase of tickets. The Javanese courts sponsor many performances to mark auspicious days, though the number of such performances has decreased greatly in recent years. The wétonan of the reigning sultan or prince in each court is marked by a live broadcast on state radio. Other radio broadcasts originate from studios where the traditional etiquette of performance is greatly altered.

The most prominent use of gamelan for a religious occasion is the nearly continual playing of the massive gamelan sekatèn in the courtyard of the main mosques in Yogyakarta and Surakarta to mark the birth of the prophet each year. The invention of various aspects of gamelan and wayang are attributed to the Wali, the saints who spread Islam in Java, but there is no close relation with Muslim institutions, and gamelan performance does not usually intersect with Muslim religious practice, though some terbangan genres (featuring terbang frame drum and vocals) share melodies with the standard gamelan repertory (see below). However, gamelan instruments, compositions and music theory have all been implicated in mystical beliefs linked to Sufism and Tantrism (Sastrapustaka, 1984 and Becker, 1993); certain pieces are believed to be spiritually powerful (even dangerous) and gamelan performance is sometimes used for meditation. Alongside the attributions to Muslim saints other origin myths link the creation of gamelan to Hindu gods and legendary Javanese figures (see Hood, 1970). The goddess of the South Seas, Nyai Rara Kidul, figures prominently in beliefs about certain sacred dances and musical compositions. Gamelan is an important element in certain rituals such as sacred dances performed annually at the major palaces or purification ceremonies involving special shadow play (ruwatan). Gamelan has occasionally been played in Javanese churches. New masses and individual pieces have been composed, and existing gamelan compositions have been adapted for Christian use, first in the Catholic Church and later in Protestant churches.

(i) Klenèngan.

(ii) Theatre.

(iii) Dance.

(i) Klenèngan.

These performances may he held independently or, in the case of a major celebration, in conjunction with other performances. The duration ranges from a few hours during the day or evening to an entire night. Audience demeanour may range from formal attention or silent meditation to muted conversation and enthusiastic participation in rhythmic handclapping.

In Solonese practice, compositions are performed according to a pathet order that is linked to time of day (see Table 5 above). When a full gamelan is available both tunings are used in alternation, combining the pélog and sléndro pathet sequences: a piece is played in pélog lima, followed by another in sléndro nem; this may be repeated or the musicians may then play in pélog nem and so on.

In klenèngan it is more common to link several pieces together in an unbroken medley than to play individual pieces. The construction of these medleys is often spontaneous, though some are well-known sequences. Generally a medley begins with a gendhing, though this may be preceded by a pathetan and a bawa (solo song). Pieces in shorter forms are appended after the gendhing: ladrang, ketawang and ayak-ayakan are all common choices. The later portion of a medley will often consist of a srepegan with palaran interspersed. It is also common to include lighter, vocal-centred genres such as dolanan and langgam (kroncong-style songs in Javanese language and tunings) towards the end of a medley. While the rules for combining pieces are not explicit, certain principles of contrast and compatibility are widely observable in addition to the progression from longer to shorter colotomic structures: for example, a piece performed with lively drumming, interlocking bonang and handclapping will often be contrasted with a slower, more serene piece such as a ketawang; compatibility requires that pieces belong to the same pathet and that they share a gong tone, though a piece may be adjusted to fit the latter requirement. Linearity is fundamental to the overall progression: with the exception of certain selingan (insertion of one piece in the middle of another), compositions earlier in the medley are not returned to. Cycles are also interrupted by the performance of andhegan, in which the drummer cues the entire ensemble to stop at a certain point in the cycle, allowing one of the pesindhèn to sing a solo (ranging from a single phrase to an entire independent song) before the instrumentalists resume performance.

Indonesia, §III, 6: Central Java: Performance contexts

(ii) Theatre.

There is little theatre and no dance without music in Central Java, and this almost always involves some sort of gamelan. Indeed, dramatic, choreographic and musical elements are so thoroughly integrated in some types of performance that they defy simple classification. However, the less thoroughly dramatic genres are generally referred to as dance (beksan (Javanese) or tari (Indonesian)), whereas the names of many theatrical genres include the word wayang.

Dramatic performances most commonly draw on the Indian-derived Mahabharata and Ramayana cycles with some characters and episodes invented in Java. Some genres are associated with the indigenous Panji cycle, semi-historical plots particularly from the fabled Majapahit period, and Middle Eastern tales.

Plays involve well-known main characters and a host of stock characters, both defined by a matrix of classifications and conventions. One dimension of this matrix is a continuum from refined (halus) to coarse (kasar). The categories of men, women, gods and ogres form another dimension. These are differentiated by conventions of iconography (of puppets’ or actors’ body type and costume), type of voice, speech patterns, stance and movement. One category deserves particular mention: the punakawan, comical servants who speak the commoner’s language and often refer to contemporary events, although some of them have divine aspects. These figures, a Javanese invention dating back at least 1000 years, take a central role in most theatrical performances, mediating mythical and contemporary life.

Most Central Javanese dramatic genres involve a narrator, usually termed dhalang, whose role ranges from full control over all aspects of the performance in the shadow play to brief declamation in genres such as langen driya. (Only a few women practise the hereditary art of the dhalang.) Some genres involve substantial improvisation in many aspects of the performance, whereas others are scripted, choreographed and provided with a fixed sequence of musical pieces (although musicians still have flexibility). A specialized theatrical language is utilized in most performances, and older forms of Javanese are also incorporated, particularly in narration. Careful attention is given to status-differentiated speech levels.

The musical element of these dramatic genres is fully integrated with the other performance conventions. Almost without exception, pieces are drawn from a general stock, distinguished by associations with particular dramatic settings and functions. There is substantial overlap between the musical repertories of different dramatic genres. Similarly, the system of transformations used to adapt these pieces to specific dramatic needs is common to most Javanese dramatic genres. Music serves to accompany and enhance movement, set a scene, create a mood and articulate the structure of the performance, framing the beginning and the end as well as marking important junctures in between. The pathet sequence (see Table 5) is fundamental to the shadow play and underlies most other theatrical genres. The drummer fills a crucial role in all of these genres and plays in a style that differs markedly from other gamelan drumming. In addition to controlling tempo and dynamics, the drummer transmits numerous cues and provides ‘sound effects’, amplifying puppet or actor movements with drumstrokes.

Shadow play is the most common type of theatrical performance, and wayang kulit purwa is the most common genre of shadow play, defined by its portrayal of episodes from the Mahabharata or new episodes linked to that cycle (or, more rarely, episodes from the Ramayana). The dhalang is in complete control of the performance, choosing and developing the plot, narrating, providing all the dialogue and manipulating the puppets, as well as choosing the musical accompaniment and directing most aspects of the music. The dhalang is expected to entertain and to educate, lacing the dialogue and narration with comedy and moral precepts.

Until the 1930s the traditional instrumentation for wayang kulit purwa consisted of a small sléndro gamelan that, in addition to the softer elaborating instruments, slenthem and kendhang, included cymbals (kecèr), only a few saron, kenong, kempul and gong, without any bonang. Since then, under the influence of wayang wong (dance-drama), a full gamelan in both tunings has become the norm. Dhalang often add Western percussion to emphasize puppet movement and Sundanese jaipongan drumming for certain puppet dances.

Performances traditionally begin in the evening and last about nine hours, ending near dawn. Abbreviated performances, some as short as an hour, have been developed from the 1950s onwards. All full performances and many abbreviated ones are based on a structure of three ‘acts’, each with its own internal structure of scenes, its own symbolic position in the progress of the play and its own repertory drawn from one of the three pathet sléndro. With the advent of double gamelan, pieces in pélog have also been incorporated. The importance of music in delineating this structure is evident in the fact that each act is named after its musical mode.

The traditional repertory comprises hundreds of pieces grouped in several large categories: gendhing, gendhing lampahan, sulukan and dolanan. These pieces are used to set a scene (gendhing), to accompany and represent movement (gendhing lampahan), to convey a mood or emotion (sulukan), to demarcate the performance structure (a variety of pieces), to entertain the audience (dolanan and other light pieces) and as background to narration. Certain pieces are identified with particular characters.

Most performances are unrehearsed and depend on an intricate set of conventions for their success. The network of interacting performers centres on the dhalang, whose cues are relayed to leading members of the ensemble, principally the drummer but also the rebab, gendèr and bonang players and the female singers who mediate between the dhalang and the rest of the ensemble. There is a complex system of cues and responses that is directly linked to the dramatic and musical structures: a particular cue is meaningful only with respect to a given context and will evoke a different response if it is produced in another part of a piece or of the play. The dhalang communicates via song, verbal cues, puppet placement and various rhythms tapped with a wooden mallet (cempala) on the wooden box (kothak) or a set of overlapping bronze plates (kecrèk) hung on the box.

Other forms of puppet theatre are rarely performed. Wayang gedhog, for example, paralleled the wayang purwa in most respects but utilized a pélog gamelan to portray stories from the Panji cycle and had a more rigid plot structure and selection of musical repertory. Rod puppets (wayang golèk) have been used mainly in areas closer to West Java, where they constitute the main theatrical medium (see §V, 1(viii) below).

Theatre forms featuring human actor-dancers rather than puppets include wayang wong, kethoprak, topèng, langen driya and langen mandra wanara. Perhaps the most important of these is wayang wong, which exists in two varieties, one a venerable court spectacle in the round and the other a popular off-shoot developed for the proscenium stage at the end of the 19th century. Both depict episodes from the Mahabharata and Ramayana, but the court form is fully scripted and choreographed, features a large cast and intricate costumes and requires intensive rehearsal. The popular wayang wong panggung is improvised on the basis of a skeletal story line. It is closely linked to the shadow play, sharing plots, characters and most of its repertory and performing conventions with wayang kulit purwa. While it is clearly derivative it has also influenced wayang kulit, most notably in the use of a full double gamelan. It differs in its relative brevity: performances last two to four hours, certain scenes are omitted, and shorter musical compositions are favoured. The division of labour also differs: the dhalang in wayang wong still controls the overall flow of the performance, linking the action to the music with narrative and cues, but the actors take on all of the improvised dialogue, some of which is sung to gamelan accompaniment (Susilo, 1987).

Kethoprak (folk theatre) developed in the 20th century and depicts historical and legendary plots; it is similar in many ways to wayang wong but involves less music. Wayang topèng, a theatrical form based on masked dance, also involves a dhalang who narrates and guides the actions. Representing the indigenous Javanese Panji tales, it had a long history in Java as a popular genre, performed by wandering troupes with a very small gamelan wherever an open space and a potential audience were to be found, but it is now very rare aside from brief excerpts that continue to be performed as individual dances, often in forms that underwent court stylization. Langen mandra wanara and langen driya are esoteric court forms rarely seen outside the palace walls and hardly performed today even within them. Developed in the late 19th century in Yogyakarta and Surakarta respectively, they employ fully scripted texts, composed in macapat metres. Dialogue is sung, unlike the other forms of theatre, which involve extensive speech.

Indonesia, §III, 6: Central Java: Performance contexts

(iii) Dance.

Gamelan accompanies a wide variety of dance genres developed in the royal courts, towns and villages. Some dances (jogèd or beksan) are explicitly narrative and closely related to theatrical genres, whereas others are more abstract, lyrical or sensual, fulfilling ritual needs or providing secular entertainment. Underlying Javanese classifications of dance are distinctions of gender, social status, performance settings and function. Female dances include the restricted court forms bedhaya, danced by seven or nine women (fig.14), and srimpi dances for four women, as well as golèk and gambyong, secular dances that originated outside the courts but were reworked there and are widely performed today, either solo or by a group of women. Bedhaya and srimpi dances and dancers have served as royal symbols for centuries; ascension of a new king necessitated creation of new choreographies, often reworking existing gendhing as accompaniment. At the other end of the social scale are the taledhèk or ronggèng, itinerant dancers who travelled with small bands of musicians, dancing with men from the audience; such dancing is thought to be the source of some of the more refined female dancing and the drumming that accompanies it. A related phenomenon is tayuban, a centuries-old form of entertainment in which men take turns dancing with professional female dancers. Choreographed male dances include wirèng (warrior dances, fig.15) and pethilan, battle scenes from theatrical plots. Mixed-gender choreographies tend to be dramatic in nature, directly related to theatrical genres. The dance drama (sendratari), a mid-20th-century invention in which narration is mainly danced without dialogue, is the site of ongoing innovation, building largely on the norms of traditional Javanese dance and theatre, unlike more radical choreographies by figures such as Bagong Kussadiarjo or Sardono Kusuma, who combine Javanese elements with various other styles and approaches to dance in far more eclectic mixes.

Character types similar to those of theatre are performed in dance. In female and refined male characters, the feet are kept close to each other and to the floor, with hands and arms also defining spaces close to the body and eyes downcast. Strong male types, by contrast, stand with legs spread wide and arms stretched straight out, and carve out larger spaces with legs and arms lifted high. Court dances may employ complex choreographies with highly symbolic, asymmetrical formations of dancers.

Most dances are accompanied by full gamelan. The most notable exceptions are those bedhaya dances accompanied by gendhing kemanak, pieces involving a choral melody, sparse drumming and a colotomic structure in which the kemanak figure prominently. In every genre, dance and music are tightly integrated: choreographic sequences generally align with colotomic structures and drum patterns. While many choreographies and musical accompaniments are set, the more overtly dramatic dances are usually quite flexible, requiring close coordination between dancers and musicians, mediated by a drummer. In some cases, a dance master cues the dancers by playing rhythms on a wooden slit drum (keprak) and, for battles, bronze concussion plates (kecèr).

Drumming for stately court dances consists of fixed patterns played on the large and small kendhang. Dramatic dances and those derived from itinerant female dances require the ciblon (batangan), on which far more complex patterns are played. These patterns, which are open to substantial improvisation, are closely associated with particular movement patterns from which many take their names.

7. Non-gamelan genres.

Siteran denotes a small ensemble consisting of as many as three different sizes of siter (zither). The players generally sing as well and may be joined by a drummer, a pesindhèn and even a keyed gong substitute. Cokèkan is similar but may include a gendèr, slenthem and suling. These small, portable ensembles are usually itinerant, stopping to play wherever they might catch an audience. They share much of the repertory of the gamelan (with an emphasis on the lighter, vocal-centred pieces) and often comprise skilled musicians, unlike the common guitar- and tambourine-playing beggars (ngamèn) who are paid not to play.

The terbang, a drum whose ‘frame’ curves inward like a bowl without a bottom, is associated with Islam and a variety of performance genres, often with singing and other instruments. Laras madya involves performance of macapat by solo male voice leading to choral singing with terbang, kendhang and kemanak. Santi swara designates a similar ensemble performance of Islamic texts. In slawatan, portions of the Qur’an are sung to similar instrumental accompaniment with seated dancing. Other Muslim genres with clear Middle Eastern origins, such as gambus and qasidah (see §VIII, 1 below), are practised in Central Java as in many other parts of Indonesia.

Jaran kepang, like réyog and èbèg in other parts of Java, is a rural genre performed by hobby-horse riders who go into trance to the accompaniment of the double-reed selomprèt (oboe), kendhang, gongs and saron. Sometimes a set of Angklung (bamboo slide rattles) are added. Another rural music, lesungan, which consists of interlocking rhythms beaten on a hollowed tree trunk (Lesung), is played during eclipses to scare off the demon believed to be swallowing the sun. It is also played in the palace by six women to ward off spirits during the preparation of ceremonial rice mountains (gunungan) for the court-sponsored processions (grebeg) that take place three times a year and was used to accompany kethoprak plays in the 1920s together with suling.

The Central Javanese public is exposed to Sundanese and Balinese gamelan music (much more than to music of other parts of Indonesia) through live performances at festivals, instruction at conservatories and academies, and television. Western art music (see §VIII, 2 below) is taught at the Akademi Musik Indonesia in Yogyakarta and has a history dating back to colonial times, when it was practised not only by Dutch colonials but by special groups of musicians employed by the Javanese courts (see §I, 2(ii) above).

8. Research.

Javanese and Dutch writers began to create a body of scholarship on Javanese music and related arts in the late 19th century. Poetic treatises by leading 19th-century Solonese court musicians such as Serat titi asri (Gunasentika II, 1925) or Serat sastramiruda (Kusumadilaga, 1981) gave way to prose works, often more technical in approach (e.g. Djakoeb and Wignjaroemeksa, 1913). Groneman, a Dutch doctor at the Yogyanese court who published an early monograph (1890), was followed by other Dutch writers, the most prolific and authoritative being Jaap Kunst (whose work extended beyond the colonial period). This colonial period of intense cultural interchange not only affected the performing arts and the scholarship about these arts but also changed fundamental attitudes towards the place and value of gamelan, wayang and dance (see Sumarsam, 1995).

One result was the development of various notational systems, including the cipher kepatihan notation that now predominates. At first the primary aim was archival, but later instructional purposes were also served. Collections of general gamelan repertory (e.g. Mloyowidodo, 1977) and various specialized repertories are numerous; these usually indicate only the balungan and colotomic parts. Vocal collections are also common. Any of the other parts can be notated, often with the addition of various symbols, but such notation is found almost exclusively in the pedagogical and analytical publications produced by and for the performing arts schools established in the decades following Indonesia’s independence in 1945.

Post-independence Javanese writing about gamelan has included theoretical treatises such as Pengetahuan karawitan by leading theorist Martopangrawit (1984), pedagogical material and writings about the meaning of gamelan (Sastrapustaka, 1984). Analogous writings about wayang and dance often include substantial information on the associated musical practice, and there are numerous collections of wayang pieces, especially the songs of dhalang. Most of the authors have been performers. More recently, several prominent Javanese scholars have written theses for advanced degrees in ethnomusicology at foreign institutions, and the faculty and students of STSI (formerly ASKI) in Surakarta have produced studies documenting genres or personal styles of leading musicians and analysing performance practice. Little research has been undertaken by either Javanese or foreign scholars on genres not related to gamelan.

Foreign scholarship on Javanese music developed outside of Indonesia largely due to Jaap Kunst, through his writings and his students, particularly Ki Mantle Hood and Ernst Heins. It has grown exponentially since the 1970s, with numerous Americans and contributors from the Netherlands, Great Britain and other countries.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

General

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D. Hughes: ‘Deep Structure and Surface Structure in Javanese Music: a Grammar of gendhing lampah’, EthM, xxxii (1988), 23–74

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R. Vetter: ‘Animism, Hinduism, Islam and the West: Fusion in Musical and Visual Symbolism in a Javanese Ceremony’, Progress Reports in Ethnomusicology, ii/4 (1989), 1–12

R. Vetter: ‘A Retrospect on a Century of Gamelan Tone Measurements’, EthM, xxxiii (1989), 217–28

S. Astono: Pengenalan terhadap cengkok cengkok siteran [Concerning cengkok for siter] (Surakarta, 1990)

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D. Wong and R.T.A. Lysloff: ‘Threshold to the Sacred: the Overture in Thai and Javanese Ritual Performance’, EthM, xxxv (1991), 315–48

B. Arps: Tembang in Two Traditions: Performance and Interpretation of Javanese Literature (London, 1992)

The Music of K.R.T. Wasitodiningrat, CMP Records CD 3007 (1992)

Sumarsam: Historical Contexts and Theories of Javanese Music (diss., Cornell U., 1992)

J. Becker: Gamelan Stories: Tantrism, Islam and Aesthetics in Central Java (Tempe, AZ, 1993)

B. Brinner: ‘A Musical Time Capsule from Java’, JAMS, xlvi/2 (1993), 221–60

B. Brinner: ‘Freedom and Formulaity in the suling Playing of Bapak Tarnopangrawit’, AsM, xxiv/2 (1993), 1–38

R.A. Sutton: Variation in Central Javanese Gamelan Music: Dynamics of a Steady State (DeKalb, IL, 1993)

S. Weiss: ‘Gender and gendèr: Gender Ideology and the Female gendèr Player in Central Java’, Rediscovering the Muses: Women’s Musical Traditions, ed. K. Marshall (Boston, 1993), 21–48

N.I. Cooper: The Sirens of Java: Gender Ideologies, Mythologies and Practice in Central Java (diss., U. of Hawaii, 1994)

M. Perlman: Unplayed Melodies: Music Theory in Postcolonial Java (diss., Wesleyan U., 1994)

B. Brinner: ‘Cultural Matrices and Innovation in Central Javanese Performing Arts’, EthM, xxix (1995), 433–56

B. Brinner: Knowing Music, Making Music: the Theory of Competence and Interaction in Javanese Gamelan (Chicago, 1995)

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M. Perlman and C.L. Krumhansl: ‘An Experimental Study of Internal Interval Standards in Javanese and Western Musicians’, Music Perception, xiv/2 (1996), 95–116

Rebab and Female Singing of Central Javanese Gamelan, King Record KICC-5211 (1996)

R.A. Sutton: ‘Interpreting Electronic Sound Technology in the Contemporary Javanese Soundscape’, EthM, xl (1996), 249–68

M. Perlman: ‘Conflicting Interpretations: Indigenous Analysis and Historical Change in Central Javanese Music’, AsM, xxviii/1 (1997), 115–40

S.P. Walton: Heavenly Nymphs and Earthly Delights: Javanese Female Singers, their Music and their Lives (diss., U. of Michigan, 1997)

dance and theatre

T.B. van Lelyveld: De Javaansche danskunst (Amsterdam, 1931)

T. Pigeaud: Javaanse volksvertoningen (Batavia, 1938)

Soedarsono: ‘Classical Javanese Dance: History and Characterization’, EthM, xiii (1969), 498–506

J.R. Brandon, ed.: On Thrones of Gold: Three Javanese Shadow Plays (Cambridge, MA, 1970)

E. Heins: ‘Cueing the Gamelan in Javanese Wayang Kulit’, Indonesia, no.9 (1970), 101–27

A. Becker: ‘Text-Building, Epistemology and Aesthetics in Javanese Shadow Theater’, The Imagination of Reality: Essays in Southeast Asian Coherence Systems: Ann Arbor 1974, ed. A.L. Becker and A.A. Yengoyan (Norwood, NJ, 1979), 211–43

Sastrakartika: Serat Kridhwayangga, pakem beksa (Jakarta, 1979) [written in 1925]

R. Schumacher: Die Suluk-Gesänge des Dalang im Schattenspiel Zentraljavas (Salzburg, 1980)

E.C. Van Ness and S. Prawirohardjo: Javanese Wayang Kulit (Singapore, 1980)

S. Morgan and L.J. Sears, eds.: Aesthetic Tradition and Cultural Transition in Java and Bali (Madison, WI, 1984) [incl. Sumarsam: ‘Gamelan Music and the Javanese Wayang Kulit’, 105–16; H. Susilo: ‘Wayang Wong Panggung: its Social Context, Technique and Music’, 117–61; and R. Vetter: ‘Poetic, Musical and Dramatic Structures in a Langen Mandra Wanara Performance’, 163–208]

V.M.C. van Groenendael: The Dalang Behind the Wayang (Dordrecht, 1985)

Java: ‘Langen Mandra Wanara’: Opéra de Danuredjo VII, Ocora C559014 and 15 (1987)

W. Keeler: Javanese Shadow Plays, Javanese Selves (Princeton, 1987)

H. Susilo: ‘Improvisation in Wayang Wong Panggung: Creativity within Cultural Constraints’, YTM, xix (1987), 1–11

C. Brakel-Papenhuijzen: The Sacred Bedhaya Dances of the Kratons of Surakarta and Yogyakarta (Voorburg,1988)

R.T.A. Lysloff: ‘Non-Puppets and Non-Gamelan: Wayang Parody in Banyumas’, EthM, xxxiv (1990), 19–35

R.T.A. Lysloff: Shrikandhi Dances Lènggèr: a Performance of Shadow-Puppet Theater in Banyumas (West Central Java) (diss., U. of Michigan, 1990)

Soedarsono: Wayang Wong: the State Ritual Dance Drama in the Court of Yogyakarta (Yogyakarta, 1990)

B. Brinner: ‘Performer Interaction in a New Form of Javanese Wayang’, Essays on Southeast Asian Performing Arts: Local Manifestations and Cross-Cultural Implications, ed. K. Foley (Berkeley, 1992), 96–114

Bedhaya Duradasih: Court Music of Kraton Surakarta II, King Record KICC-5193 (1995)

C. Brakel-Papenhuijzen: Classical Javanese Dance: the Surakarta Tradition and its Terminology (Leiden, 1995)

collections of notation and instructional manuals

Djakoeb and Wignjaroemeksa: Lajang anjoeroepaké pratikelé bab sinaoe naboeh sarto panggawéné gamelan [Book about learning and making the gamelan] (Batawi, 1913)

Buku piwulangan nabuh gamelan [Book of instruction in gamelan playing], ed. Komisi Pasinaon Nabuh Gamelan (Surakarta,1924–5)

K.H. Déwantara andM.N. Najawirangka: Kawruh gending Djawa [Knowledge of Javanese gendhing] (Solo, 1936)

M.N. Nojowirongko: Serat tuntunan padhalangan [Guide to the art of shadow puppetry] (Ngajogjakarta,1954)

Mlojowidodo: Karawitan wajang gedog [Music of wayang gedog] (Surakarta, 1964)

R.L. Martopangrawit: Titilaras kendangan [Drum notation] (Surakarta, 1972)

R.L. Martopangrawit: Titilaras cengkok-cengkok genderan dengan wiletannya [Notation of gendèr cèngkok with variations] (Surakarta, 1973–6)

R.L. Martopangrawit: Titilaras gending dan sindenan bedaya-srimpi Kraton Surakarta [Notation of pieces and vocal parts for bedhaya-srimpi dances of the Kraton Surakarta] (Surakarta, 1975)

S. Hastanto, R. Supanggah and Rustopo: Data-data balungan gending-gending iringan pedalangan/pakeliran wayang kulit purwa gaya Surakarta [Information on the melodies of gendhing accompanying the dhalang in wayang kulit purwa Surakarta-style] (Surakarta, 1976)

K. Sukardi and S. Sukidjo: Gending-gending Jawa gaya Yogyakarta [Javanese gendhing, Yogyakarta-style], i–ii (Surakarta, 1976)

S. Sukidjo and Dibyomardowo: Gending-gending Jawa gaya Yogyakarta [Javanese gendhing, Yogyakarta-style], iii (Surakarta, 1976)

R.N. Mloyowidodo: Gending-gending Jawa gaya Surakarta [Javanese gendhing, Surakarta-style] (Surakarta, 1977)

G. Sri Hastjarjo: Macapat (Surakarta, 1979–80)

R.N.S. Probohardjono: ‘Serat sulukan sléndro’ [Songs of the dhalang, in sléndro], Karawitan: Source Readings in Javanese Gamelan and Vocal Music, i, ed. J. Becker and A. Feinstein (Ann Arbor, 1984), 439–523 [Javanese orig. pubd. Surakarta, 7/1966]

T.S. Suparno: Sindenan andegan Nyi Bei Mardusari [Vocal andhegan melodies of Nyi Bei Mardusari] (Surakarta, 1985)

Suratman: Gending-gending dolanan anak-anak di Surakarta [Dolanan pieces of Surakarta] (Surakarta, 1986)

Sumarsam: ‘Introduction to Ciblon Drumming in Javanese Gamelan’, Karawitan: Source Readings in Javanese Gamelan and Vocal Music, ii, ed. J. Becker and A. Feinstein (Ann Arbor, 1987), 171–203

Waluyo: Dokumentasi bawa gawan gendhing Bapak Sastro Tugiyo [Documentation of bawa for gendhing from Bapak Sastro Tugiyo] (Surakarta, 1991)

S. Harta: Garap bonang gaya Yogyakarta versi S. Sudarman [Garap for bonang, Yogyakarta-style: S. Sudarman’s version] (Surakarta, 1992)

I. Kurniatun: Garap sindenan ayak-ayak laras sléndro cèngkok Nyi Supadmi [Garap of pesindhèn for ayak-ayakan in sléndro, Nyi Supadmi’s patterns] (Surakarta, 1992)

Sukamso: Garap rebab, kendhang, gendèr, dan vokal dalam Gendhing Bondhet [Garap for rebab, kendhang,gendèr and vocals in Gendhing Bondhet] (Surakarta 1992)

IV. East Java

1. Introduction.

The traditional music and dance of East Java Province (Propinsi Jawa Timur, which also includes the island of Madura) is chiefly that of three peoples: Javanese, Madurese and Osinger. A fourth group, the Tenggerese, living in the Tengger mountain range east of Malang, speak a dialect of Javanese but, unlike the Javanese, Madurese and Osinger, subscribe to a syncretic religion based on Buddhist, Hindu and pre-Hindu beliefs. In their practice of religion and their ritual music they resemble the people of the eastern Balinese village Tenganan. Both groups have remained somewhat aloof from the societies around them, but the Tenggerese are rapidly undergoing acculturation, many having already adopted standard Javanese speech, Javanese art forms (including gamelan) and Islam.

Gamelan instruments and musical principles are common to all these peoples, though in other respects their music and speech are very different. Among the three main peoples gamelan and other ensembles are divided into two styles that may be called halus (‘refined’) and kasar (‘coarse’, ‘strong’; i.e. folk style), each having three distinct variants. The halus styles can be classified as Central Javanese (from Yogyakarta and Surakarta), East Javanese (Surabaya, Majakerta) and Madurese (Sumenep, Pamekasan); the kasar styles are East Javanese (Panaraga, Jombang), Madurese (Pamekasan, Bandawasa) and Osinger (Banyuwangi).

In describing the music of East Java an arbitrary division of the province can be made into western and eastern halves on either side of Malang. Central Javanese gamelan halus and priyayi (‘aristocratic’) culture in general predominate to the west. In cities as disparate as Bojonegoro, Kediri and Madiun, professional musicians (whether immigrants from Central Java or native East Javanese) consciously adopt Yogyanese or Solonese musical idioms. Certain styles of kasar ensembles occur in villages. The halus and kasar ensembles found to the east differ in instrumentation, playing styles and mode from these found elsewhere in Java. Gamelan asli jawa timur (‘indigenous East Javanese’ gamelan halus) centre on the Surabaya–Majakerta area. They are characterized by playing styles rather than instrumentation, and are often called gamelan Surabaya to distinguish them from the Central Javanese variety.

Many Madurese live along the coast of East Java, from Surabaya to the Blambangan peninsula and the inland communities of Bandawasa and Jember. In these areas Madurese kasar ensembles are very popular. On Madura, Sumenep (the kraton or court city) and Pamekasan (the capital city) are centres of Madurese gamelan halus, which have the same basic instrumental ensemble as the Javanese. The styles of playing are related to that of gamelan Surabaya (discussed below), and the repertory includes many indigenous gendhing (compositions) with songs in the Madurese language.

The Osinger live in the Banyuwangi area. Their kasar ensembles, partly derived from Bali, are a source of local pride, some of their songs having been absorbed into the repertory of gamelan Surabaya. Javanese in Banyuwangi have cultivated Yogyanese, Solonese and Surabaya gamelan styles (and sometimes a curious mixture of the three), which accompany performances of theatrical genres such as kethoprak, wayang kulit, wayang wong and ludruk.

2. Gamelan halus.

Traditional and newer gendhing from the repertories of Surabaya–Majakerta gamelan are becoming increasingly popular in Central Java and throughout East Java and Madura. This is partly due to the spread of ludruk, a contemporary melodramatic form of theatre that combines song, dance and comic sketches performed by female impersonators and other actors. Although it is regarded as vulgar (i.e. not halus) by the Javanese priyayi (aristocrats), ludruk is popular among all ethnic groups in Central and East Java. One performance may often contain comic sketches and songs in Javanese, Madurese and Indonesian languages.

The asli (indigenous) gamelan halus tradition has two aspects: the new, practised in metropolitan Surabaya, and the old, practised in the Majakerta Regency, formerly the seat of the famous Majapahit kingdom. Mutual influence between the two forms has now narrowed stylistic differences to the extent that the following descriptions, based on village practices in Majakerta, also apply generally to Surabaya.

East Javanese and Central Javanese gamelan have certain general similarities. They both have a standard basic repertory of gendhing and ensembles with a variable number of instruments, in which some instruments are used for the skeleton or nuclear melody, others for elaboration and others for the colotomic pattern; and in both styles the principles of stratification (the ‘layered’ arrangement of these elements of the composition) are similar. But the styles are different in that East Javanese gamelan have a more vigorous style, sudden extremes in dynamic levels, more disjunct motion in the improvisations of the elaborating instruments and relatively free drumming patterns. They make frequent use of imbal technique (rapid interlocking by two players in one octave) and frequent and extended use of pancer technique (inserting a note between each of the main notes of a basic melody), including double pancer; and there is an additional, indigenous repertory of gendhing and an indigenous pathet (‘modal’) system.

(i) Pathet.

In the music for the gamelan asli jawa timur, sléndro-scale pathet are the principal vehicles of indigenous gendhing as well as for wayang kulit (shadow play) and ludruk theatre. Pélog-scale pathet are popular in certain areas (e.g. Malang) especially among gamelan musicians of the Radio Republik Indonesia in Surabaya. Despite continuing controversies over the exact nature of East Javanese pathet and their differences from central Javanese pathet, Javanese musicians and theorists apparently agree about the nature of sléndro pathet; the comparison is shown in Table 9.

TABLE 9: Slendro patět system as used in the east Javanese gamělan asli jawa timur

Slendro patět	Usual cadential formula	Preferred finalis	Dominant o	Cadential support
		or gong tone	finalis


sěpuluh	6532	2	6	5
(Central Javanese: něm)

wolu	2165	5	2	1
(Central Javanese: sanga)

sanga	3216	6	3	2
(Central Javanese: manyura)

sěrang	1653	3	1	6
(Central Javanese: no equivalent)

(ii) Wayang kulit.

During a wayang kulit performance in the Majakerta Regency, the four pathet occur in sequence (times are approximate): sléndro pathet sepuluh (7.30–10.00 p.m.), followed by sléndro pathet wolu (10 p.m.–1 a.m.), sléndro pathet sanga (1–3.30 a.m.) and sléndro pathet serang (3.30–5 a.m.).

The night begins with several instrumental gendhing in pathet sepuluh called gendhing bonang, which are dominated by the gong-chimes bonang barung and bonang panerus. The gendhing bonang are in the kasar (‘strong’) style and, being played in a specially vigorous manner, create a joyous atmosphere and a sense of heightened anticipation. They are followed by one or more gendhing rebab, in which the dhalang (puppeteer) plays the rebab (spike fiddle); these are always in halus (‘soft’) style and provide a quiet, relaxed atmosphere in which the delicate melodies of the rebab and other instruments can be heard.

Another change in atmosphere immediately follows with a series of dances by ludruk actors, whose colourful, elaborate costumes include long shawls and ankle jingles. The gamelan ensemble often accompanies some of the most popular ludruk dances with gendhing in pathet other than pathet sepuluh; after the dances, gendhing in pathet sepuluh return and continue until the end of the first part of the wayang night is signalled by the ayak-ayakan (a gendhing used to mark changes in mood, pathet or story).

The jejer (opening scene of the wayang) begins with another gendhing rebab, now in pathet wolu. The dhalang assigns the rebab to another musician and ascends the stage to prepare the puppets for the opening scene. The gendhing rebab continues softly for 20 minutes or more, while the dhalang introduces the chief puppets to the audience and, through narration and puppets’ dialogues, lays the groundwork for the story that follows (which is not fully revealed to the audience until rather late in the pathet wolu section). From this point the wayang performance is fundamentally the same as that of Central Java.

(iii) Pancer technique.

Used rather conservatively in Central Javanese gamelan, pancer technique has been developed to a remarkably high degree in East Javanese gamelan of the Majakerta Regency, where it is used systematically in almost all gendhing. Any note may serve as pancer, the general rule being that the pancer note in a given pathet is the one that is not part of its cadential formula (see Table 9). Sléndro tone 6, when used as a pancer note, normally occurs in panthet serang thus replacing the usual pancer 2.

A gendhing performed with pancer sections has four main episodes. The fixed melody is played first relatively fast (irama seseg), then in a moderate tempo (irama lamba), and is followed by a statement of the abstracted, or skeletal melody in moderately slow tempo (also irama lamba), with pancer lamba (single pancer) between each note of the skeletal melody in the pattern rest–pancer–rest–skeletal-melody note. Finally the skeletal melody is played very slowly (irama rangkep), with pancer rangkep (double pancer) between each note, in the pattern pancer–rest–pancer–skeletal-melody note (Tables 10 and 11).

TABLE 10: Four main episodes of gěnding endra (slendro patět sěpuluh), showing use of pancěr 1


	(m = 60)
	T	P	T	N	T	P	T	N
Fixed melody	1612	1516	1312	1615	1213	1612	1613	1215
(played twice)	(3)		(3)					(G)


	(m = 45)
Skeletal melody	T	P	T	N	T	P	T	N
with pancěr lamba	.1.3	.1.6	.1.3	.1.5	.1.3	.1.2	.1.3	.1.5
								(G)

	(m = 45)
	T	P	T	N	T	P	T	N
Skeletal melody	1.13	1.16	1.13	1.15	1.13	1.12	1.13	1.15
with pancěr rangkěp	(2)		(2)					(G)



T - kětuk; P - kěmpul; N - kěnong; G - gong; m - metric unit

The cadential formula is seen here as PNPN, the accented strokes as 6525 (the finalis 5 replacing the usual 2; in contour closest to the standard 6532). Bracketed numbers in fixed melody episode indicate alternative tones occuring only in the lamba and rangkep episodes.

Italic numbers represent the skeletal melody (as in 2nd episode); spaces between each group of four symbol are used in Javanese numerical notation to facilitate reading - they do not indicate breaks in the music.

TABLE 11: Four main episodes of gěnding gandakusuma (slendro patět wolu), showing use of pancěr 3


	(m = 60)
	T	P	T	N	T	P	T	N
Fixed melody	2312	5356	3561	6535	3212	5321	3216	2165
(played twice)								(G)


	(m = 45)
Skeletal melody	T	P	T	N	T	P	T	N
with pancěr lamba	.3.2	.3.6	.3.1	.3.5	.3.2	.3.1	.3.6	.3.5
								(G)

	(m = 30)
	T	P	T	N	T	P	T	N
Skeletal melody	3.32	3.36	3.31	3.35	3.32	3.31	3.36	3.35
with pancěr rangkěp	(2)		(2)					(G)



T - kětuk; P - kěmpul; N - kěnong; G - gong; m - metric unit

The cadential formula is seen here as 2165 in the final TPTN (G).

Italic numbers represent the skeletal melody; spaces between each group of four symbols are used in Javanese numerical notation to facilitate reading - they do not indicate breaks in the music.

The use of single and double pancer greatly extends the skeletal melody, with the result that a gendhing such as gendhing Endra in Table 10, with only eight skeletal notes, lasts from 12 minutes to 20 or more in performance, depending on how many repetitions the players make in each of the four sections.

The great extension of the skeletal melody by pancer provides the ultimate test in elaboration for players of the gendèr (metallophone), gambang (xylophone), rebab (spike fiddle) and celempung (plucked zither). The fastest moving parts (played on gambang, celempung and gendèr panerus) have up to 64 beats between each skeletal-melody note in pancer rangkep. In the same context the gendèr barung player must perform highly complex elaborations within the framework of 32 moderately quick beats.

3. Kasar ensembles.

(i) Saronen and reyog.

In the most widespread type of kasar ensemble in East Java and Madura the saronen (Indonesian selompret: wooden oboe) is the principal, or only, melodic instrument. In East Java these ensembles are called gamelan saronen or gamelan tetet; in Madura they are called saronen. The constitution of such ensembles varies greatly, but they generally contain at least one saronen, one kethuk bine (large gong), one kethuk lake (small gong), one kendhang bine (double-headed drum), one kendhang lake and one gong (using Madurese terminology, in which bine means female, or the larger instrument, and lake male, or the smaller instrument).

The small ensembles of Java that accompany trance dance-dramas known as prajuritan are related to the saronen ensemble. The prajuritan story is based on the mythical battle fought in the 15th century between the leaders of the Majapahit and Blambangan kingdoms. Prajuritan and the related but less refined jathilan are common in East and Central Java.

In the reyog folk drama, a type of jathilan famous in the Panaraga Regency of East Java, barongan (a mythical monster with a tiger-like head surrounded by peacock feathers) enters into combat with several knights and their followers, who ride on hobby horses (in modern performances the followers are young boys dressed in women’s clothes). The participants often number 20 or more, with several hundred spectators.

According to local government sources, in the mid-1970s there were approximately 170 reyog organizations in the Panaraga Regency, and because of the immense appeal of reyog the atmosphere of a performance is always ramai (Madurese ramme), a term with a wide range of meanings; its positive connotations are busy, crowded, noisy and, by extension, cheerful. Musicians in certain reyog groups drink substantial amounts of a local whisky to help them attain a ramai mood, necessary for a successful performance.

The standard modern reyog ensemble (see Gamelan, fig.4) consists of a selompret (oboe), two angklung (the bamboo shaken idiophone, not the Osinger type), a kethuk (small gong), a kenong (high-pitched gong), a kempul (suspended gong), a kendhang (double-headed drum), a tipung (ketipung, small double-headed drum) and sometimes one or more terbang (frame drum).

The music of all ensembles of the saronen type (including reyog) is highly repetitive, presumably to help participants attain a state of trance, and is played at a consistently fast tempo in strict duple or quadruple metre. There is little syncopation except occasionally in the saronen (oboe) line, which moves freely over the steady, driving beats of the kendhang and the ostinatos of the kethuk. The saronen is usually played within an octave compass but is capable of a wider compass; tuning is highly variable.

In jombang, an ensemble of the saronen type combines with the bumbung (Madurese serbung) to produce a remarkable texture. The bumbung, a ‘blown gong’, is a vessel flute made of two bamboo segments, a thin, open blowing-tube held inside a much larger block closed at the bottom by a node. The bumbung has a deep, rich fundamental, as well as 5th and octave. The musicians sometimes replace the saronen with the siter, a small celempung that has a more delicate sound.

(ii) Music of the Osinger.

The Osinger (Orang Osing) of the Banyuwangi Regency trace their history to the Blambangan Kingdom, which ruled much of East Java during the 15th and 16th centuries. Despite some assimilation with Javanese and Madurese peoples, the Osinger still speak a dialect (Bahasa Osing) of which much is unintelligible to a speaker of standard Javanese. The main elements of Osinger traditional music and dance are two unusual ensembles, gandrung and angklung, both of which use types of sléndro tuning. Gandrung is a professional troupe of six adult male instrumentalists and one young, unmarried female dancer-singer; they perform for important all-night social functions, such as wedding receptions. Angklung is an amateur organization of young men that performs at less formal occasions, such as carnivals and contests, or simply for recreation. The number of players and types of instrument vary widely.

The term gandrung can refer to the organization as a whole or specifically to the dancer-singer. The tradition of gandrung is handed down within the family, and the daughter of a well-known gandrung nearly always becomes a gandrung herself, remaining so until marriage. Gandrung means enchanted or enamoured, and the older gandrung songs are love-songs. Many early 20th-century songs, however, deal with poverty, injustice and oppression. Padha nonton (‘All people bear witness’), one of the most famous gandrung songs, is sometimes said to be a protest against colonialism. The gandrung ensemble consists of two violins (of Western type, with viola tuning), called biola in Osinger dialect; a set of two drums (kendhang and ketipung, both double-headed) played by a single drummer; two kenong (inverted gongs, tuned in 5ths), or one kenong and one kethuk (small inverted gong, one player); one triangle, called kloncing in Osinger dialect; and one gong agung.

Gandrung performances typically begin after sunset and last all night. After a brief instrumental medley of traditional gandrung songs the gandrung herself enters. Her costume includes a long, beautifully designed batik skirt, a cloth under-vest, a leather breastplate, and a close-fitting, helmet-like headdress. The breastplate and the headdress are elaborately decorated in gold leaf. The gandrung begins by singing a slow song accompanied initially only by the biola (which are held on the players’ chests) and occasionally punctuated by the gong agung. Her singing voice is constricted, and has a narrow range in a medium tessitura.

In the first section of the introductory song the vocal line is very sustained, as is the drone-like accompaniment of the biola, and the metre is free. The biola players freely imitate the melodic phrases of the gandrung. At the end of a long phrase the gandrung singer pauses briefly, while the biola improvise an interlude based on the melodic contours of the preceding phrase or phrases.

The section that follows has a definite duple or quadruple metre. As the gandrung continues to sing, the kendhang and ketipung enter, after which the kenong enter and establish a regular ostinato. When the kloncing finally enters there is a slight increase in tempo and in dynamics. Frequent comic and flirtatious comments interjected by the kloncing player mark the beginning of the evening’s gaiety. The social aspects of the gandrung performance begin with the dance of invitation. Like the initial song, the initial dance is performed by the gandrung alone and is also slow and formal. This is perhaps the most refined dance of the evening, for as the evening wears on and the atmosphere becomes more festive, the gandrung and the musicians become more relaxed and consequently freer in their performances. Having ended the dance, the gandrung offers her scarf to a man among the spectators who must then dance with her. In return for this honour he places a small sum of money in a receptacle near the gamelan after his dance. A similar procedure continues throughout the night.

The gandrung and her partner (the latter often called ngibing: ‘follower’) often create comic dances together. If he is at all adventurous the ngibing improvises rather unrefined dance movements, ostensibly trying to imitate faithfully the gandrung’s movements but usually producing a parody of them. The gandrung in turn imitates the ngibing, and the comic effect of a parody of a parody is heightened when the gandrung keeps a perfectly straight face while imitating the deliberately or unintentionally awkward movements of the ngibing.

Gandrung dance movements are less clearly defined than movements in Central Javanese tledhek and srimpi (see §III, 6(iii) above). Gandrung movements are freely improvised in accordance with the nature of the song: thus the movements for a serious song such as Padha nonton are different from those of Jaran goyang (‘Swaying horse’), which derives from the kasar jathilan tradition. In Jaran goyang the swaying movements of the gandrung are nevertheless often subtle, but the ngibing often acts the rider and horse simultaneously, consequently whipping himself.

Osinger gandrung is related to the joged of Bali and its formerly popular Balinese variant, also called gandrung, in which a boy served as the gandrung dancer-singer. I Wajan Rindi, a star pupil of the famous dancer Mario, performed gandrung in the early 1940s, and in the 1970s (living in Denpasar) was one of the last gandrung of Bali. The seblang, the predecessor of the Osinger gandrung, is a religious dance with elements of trance, related to the Balinese sang hyang. It is performed as an offering in celebration of a successful rice harvest; the movements are said to imitate farmers harvesting rice.

A Madurese version of gandrung formerly existed in eastern Madura. It followed the Osinger tradition in its use of the female gandrung but included two saronen (oboes) in place of the biola.

Though some young Javanese and Osinger now consider the gandrung genre old-fashioned and have little interest in it, the Osinger as a whole remain proud of their gandrung, and there are probably enough young Osinger with sufficient interest to continue the tradition. Young and old Osinger compose new songs, which are usually quickly absorbed into the repertories of both gandrung and angklung. The newer songs express pride in Indonesia and in Banyuwangi in particular.

The Banyuwangi angklung is a xylophone consisting of 12 to 14 bamboo tubes cut on the slant at the top and closed by a node at the bottom (fig.16). The tubes are held on a slant in a wooden frame by a cord running through them. The frame is loosely hinged to a simple stand, and can be easily adjusted to the comfort of the individual player. Two long wooden or bamboo sticks, ending in soft but unpadded discs, serve as mallets. A similar instrument once existed in the Majakerta Regency. The closest relative (in proximity as well as in form) is now the garantang of Bali. The Osinger have two traditions of angklung: cara lama (‘old style’), formerly called bali-balian (‘in the Balinese manner’), and cara baru (‘new style’). Both are now called angklung Banyuwangi. Though the cara baru is the principal vehicle of the newer songs and modern experimentation, both styles are popular among the younger people.

The bali-balian consists of one or two pairs of angklung, one pair of slenthem, two pairs of saron barung, two pairs of saron panerus, one kendhang, one or two suling (end-blown flutes) and one gong agung. The Banyuwangi slenthem resembles a huge saron, with keys lying flat above a trough in which resonating tubes are concealed. Its keys are made of iron, as are the keys of the saron. The bali-balian repertory includes traditional instrumental tunes of Banyuwangi, instrumental adaptations of gandrung songs and a small number of gendhing from Central and East Javanese gamelan. The principal function of bali-balian is to test the abilities of young players by means of a contest, called angklung caruk (caruk: ‘struggle’, ‘contest’). During the contest (which is always between ensembles rather than individuals) members of the two ensembles, seated at their respective instruments, face one another. The challenging ensemble begins by playing a traditional angklung tune, or a short medley of tunes. The other group then follows with the same tune or tunes, attempting to surpass its rival’s performance in virtuosity, precision and imagination. The contest continues in a similar manner for two hours or more; it is carried out in a spirit of fun and in a relaxed atmosphere, with occasional breaks for tea or coffee and snacks.

An angklung tune in the old style begins with an introduction on the angklung consisting of the pathetan, a brief, freely improvised section suggesting the tune’s modal flavour (the term comes from gamelan halus), and the buka, the tune’s brief stereotyped introduction in fixed rhythms but with an indefinite metre (this term also comes from gamelan halus). The kendhang enters towards the end of the buka and establishes tempo. The buka ends with gong agung punctuation, which announces the beginning of the main section, in which the remaining instruments enter. A simple statement of the melody on the slenthem is duplicated on the angklung, saron barung and saron panerus, and variations are played on the suling.

This section is then repeated and followed by elaborate improvisations on the angklung and suling and rapidly played imbal on the saron. After angklung interludes there is a return to the main section, the tempo being faster in the final repetition. The basic variation technique for the novice angklung player is melodic duplication (ex.18), similar to rincik style in the Balinese gamelan pejogedan. Young players, however, rapidly depart from simple melodic duplication to develop their own styles. As angklung are normally played in pairs, the more advanced player usually teaches the novice more complicated melodic patterns and ostinatos. If both players of a pair are experienced, they may depart from the melody entirely. Ex.19, derived from a performance of the new style of angklung Banyuwangi, shows two sets of angklung ostinatos in cross-rhythms against the vocal line. The ostinatos are based on a simple rhythmic pattern and its derivatives, as shown in ex.20. The basic rhythm (see ex.3a above) is common to many saronen and jathilan ensembles and the ancient gamelan kodhok ngorèk.

The new style of angklung ensemble (angklung Banyuwangi) differs from the old style in three fundamental ways: it is a smaller, more intimate ensemble, it uses a singer, and it accompanies dance. It consists of at least one pair of angklung, a suling, a kloncing, a gong agung and a male or female singer. An ensemble of this kind plays adaptations of pieces in the bali-balian repertory and newly composed songs; the old and new types of ensemble share a similar style, and ideas are often exchanged. Some musicians belong to both new and old clubs.

Modern experiments have produced some unique ensembles, including one in which the angklung has dual tuning. The Angklung Dwilaras club (Sanskrit dwi: ‘two’; laras: ‘tuning’) constructed angklung, each with two sets of bamboo tubes, one in sléndro, the other in pélog, placed on either side of the frame. Since the frame is loosely hinged to the stand, the tuning of the instrument can be changed simply by turning the frame over. Other recent experiments include large ensembles with up to eight pairs of angklung, four to six suling, a set of bonang (bonang barung and bonang panerus), and up to ten slit-drums of various sizes. These experimental groups add another genre, cara modern, to Osinger music.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

J. Brandts Buys and A. Brandts Buys-van Zijp: ‘Over muziek in het Banjoewangische’, Djawa, vi (1926), 205–28

J. Jasper: ‘Tengger en de Tenggereezen’, Djawa, vi (1926), 185–92; vii (1927), 23–37, 217–31, 291–304; viii (1928), 5–27

J. Scholte: ‘Gandroeng van Banjoewangi’, Djawa, vii (1927), 144–53

J. Brandts Buys and A. Brandts Buys-van Zijp: ‘De toonkunst bij de Madoereezen’, Djawa, viii/3–6 (1928), 1–290

T. Pigeaud: Javaanse volksvertoningen (Batavia, 1938)

J. Peacock: Rites of Modernization: Symbolic and Social Aspects of Indonesian Proletarian Drama (Chicago, 1968)

M. Kartomi: ‘Performance, Music and Meaning of Reyog Ponorogo’, Indonesia, no.22 (1976), 85–130

S. Timoer: Reog di Jawa Timur [East Javanese reyog] (Jakarta, 1978–9)

S. Murgiyanto and A. Munardi: Topeng Malang: Pertunjukan dramatari tradisional di daerah kabupaten Malang [Topeng malang: performance of traditional dance-drama in the Malang region] (Jakarta, 1979–80)

S. Timoer: Topeng dhalang di Jawa Timur [East Javanese topeng dhalang] (Jakarta, 1979–80)

P. Wolbers: ‘Gandrung and Angklung from Banyuwangi: Remnants of a Past Shared with Bali’, AsM, xviii (1986), 71–90

R. Hefner: ‘The Politics of Popular Art: Tayuban Dance and Culture Change in East Java’, Indonesia, no.43 (1987), 75–94

P. Wolbers: ‘Account of an Angklung Caruk, July 28, 1985’, Indonesia, no.43 (1987), 66–74

S. Timoer: Serat wewaton padhalangan Jawi wetanan [Basics of East Javanese puppetry] (Jakarta, 1988)

S. Murgiyanto and A. Munardi: Seblang dan gandrung: dua bentuk tari tradisi di Banyuwangi [Seblang and gandrung: two forms of traditional dance from Banyuwangi] (Jakarta, 1990–91)

Music of Madura, coll. J. Body and Y. Sukarno, Ode 1381 (1991)

Songs Before Dawn: Gandrung Banyuwangi, coll. P. Yampolsky, Smithsonian Folkways SF 40055 (1991) [incl. notes by P. Yampolsky]

R. Supanggah: ‘Musik gandrung Banyuwangi: laporan survey’, [The music of gandrung Banyuwangi: survey report], Seni [Yogyakarta], i (1991), 29–42

R. Sutton: Traditions of Gamelan Music in Java: Musical Pluralism and Regional Identity (Cambridge, 1991)

B. Arps: Tembang in Two Traditions: Performance and Interpretation of Javanese Literature (London, 1992)

S. Hutomo: Pantun kentrung (Jakarta, 1993)

Z. Mistortoify: ‘Tabbhuan thukthuk dalam konteks pesta rakyat (kesenian) karapan sapi Madura’ [Tabbhuan thukthuk in the context of karapan sapi folk (art) festival of Madura], Seni Pertunjukan Indonesia, iv (1993), 90–121

R. Sutton: ‘Semang and Seblang: Thoughts on Music, Dance, and the Sacred in Central and East Java’, Performance in Java and Bali, ed. B. Arps (London, 1993), 121–43

P. Wolbers: ‘The Seblang and its Music: Aspects of an East Javanese Fertility Rite’, Performance in Java and Bali, ed. B. Arps (London, 1993), 34–46

H. Bouvier: La matière des emotions: les arts du temps et du spectacle dans la société madouraise (Indonésie) (Paris, 1995)

Indonésie-Madura: musique savante, rec. 1982, coll. A. Jakfar, Ocora 560083 (1995)

A. Kusmayati: ‘Peddug, seni pertunjukan dalam upacara rokat pandhaba di Madura’ [Peddug, artistic performance in the rokat pandhaba ceremony of Madura], Seni Pertunjukan Indonesia, vii (1996), 1–13

Jemblung and related narrative traditions of Java, coll. J. Body and Y. Sukarno, Pan 2048 (1997)

V. West Java

1. Sunda.

2. Cirebon.

Indonesia, §V: West Java

1. Sunda.

(ii) Genres and ensembles.

(iii) Instrumental tunings.

(viii) Dance and theatre.

(i) Introduction.

The Sundanese people inhabit the mountainous province of West Java. They are the second most populous ethnic group in the whole of Indonesia, after the Javanese, who originate from Central and Eastern Java. Sundanese language and culture, although related to Javanese, are quite distinct.

While more overtly Muslim than the Javanese, many Sundanese maintain customs and beliefs rooted in older religions. Sundanese language and manners range from highly refined and formalized to vulgar and ribald; such contrasts are reflected in the performing arts, ranging from the exquisite melancholy of courtly poetry sung in tembang Sunda to rhythms squeezed from the armpits of ngajibrut street entertainers.

Ceremonies and celebrations are the most frequent occasions for musical performance. Music, dance and theatre can be for ritual, entertainment or both. Hajat are festive receptions most typically given to celebrate a wedding or circumcision and may include a wide range of performing arts, such as nyawér, ritual advice sung unaccompanied by an older person, and upacara adat (‘traditional ceremony’), comprising the various processions and rituals that make up the wedding ceremony and often including song texts, arrangements of pieces for gamelan degung or kacapi (zithers), and elements of choreography specially created for the occasion. Later in the proceedings guests may be entertained by anything from the courtly tembang Sunda or gamelan degung, to brash jaipongan dancing and karaoke ballads. Lavish hajat finish with an all-night wayang golék (rod puppet) performance.

The Sundanese performing arts comprise a dynamic oral tradition in which experiment has always been a vital factor. The most conservative musicians pride themselves on the innovations they have introduced and on preserving intact the tradition they have inherited, without apparent contradiction. Some of the most ‘classical’ genres, such as gamelan degung and tembang Sunda, are little more than a century old and have changed fundamentally in the last 50 years. To remain in work, performers must follow artistic fashion. Mass communications create new megastars among singers, wayang puppeteers and entertainers, and give the fashions they set a particular potency. The ubiquity of sound amplification (sometimes even used in domestic rehearsals) has transformed vocal technique and brought soloists to the foreground of ensembles.

Many genres give the performers considerable freedom to improvise. Even when melodies and instrumental figuration are fairly standardized, fine musicians cultivate their own subtle but distinctive variations. While the composers of the older repertory remain anonymous contributors to a group ethic, in more recent years individual composers have gained high profiles. Music is leaving the public domain to become the intellectual property of individuals, who expect recognition and commercial reward; the situation is further complicated when, as often happens, ‘new’ pieces are based on old repertory.

Young performers learn primarily through informal methods, such as being around when it happens, rather than through formal teaching. Many performers come from a family (or a community) of performers. The government-run SMKI and STSI offer courses in the performing arts at secondary and university level: here academics with high social status coexist rather uneasily with artists who have acquired their skills ‘naturally’ (seniman alam). At the same time, a growing number of young Sundanese musicians learn new repertory from commercial cassette recordings or from recordings they themselves have made with cheap cassette recorders. Few women have the opportunity of becoming serious instrumentalists or puppeteers (although there have been some notable exceptions); their usual roles are as vocalists and dancers.

Indonesia, §V, 1(ii): The Sunda of West Java: Genres and ensembles

(ii) Genres and ensembles.

(a) Vocal music.

(b) Village music.

(d) Kacapian.

(e) Gamelan ensembles.

(a) Vocal music.

The casual listener to contemporary Sundanese music will be struck forcefully by the predominance of female solo singing. Before sound amplification, gamelan ensembles were predominantly instrumental; however, there is now a tendency for the instruments to provide standardized figurations as a backdrop for the voice, rather than play a melodic role. Similarly, the repertory performed is changing: rather than playing the larger, more complex melodic pieces (sekar ageung), simpler structures based on a framework of pitches (sekar alit) are substituted, which are more appropriate for accompaniment.

Nevertheless, singing (unaccompanied, or in smaller ensembles) has always been an important element in Sundanese music. In Sunda the written word implies melody. The chanting of Qur’anic texts (pangajian) is learned in childhood and becomes a regular part of daily life. This is prayer, not music; nevertheless, text is realized through a melody that has been learned orally. A comparable process occurs in Sundanese poetry in one of the 17 pupuh, the verse forms brought from Java in the Mataram period (late 16th century to mid-18th). Traditionally, these would never be read silently but always sung to the melody associated with a particular pupuh, a style called wawacan (‘reading’).

The basic wawacan melodies are simple and syllabic, though texts can also be ‘read’ with more complex melismatic melodies. Beluk, Ciawian and Cigawiran are some of the more elaborate vocal genres in which pupuh texts are sung unaccompanied. They are now rarely performed, unlike the accompanied sung poetry of tembang Sunda Cianjuran.

Indonesia, §V, 1(ii): The Sunda of West Java: Genres and ensembles

(b) Village music.

The rural Sundanese had a huge array of instrumental genres for ritual and entertainment. Typically, sets of percussion instruments of different pitches would be played in interlocking repetitive rhythms by several players. Many of these genres have fallen into disuse as modern rural life changes, but some of the instruments have been absorbed into more modern, urban genres. Formerly, ritual use would often focus on harvest ceremonies for the rice goddess Nyi Pohaci.

Bamboo is easily obtained outside the cities and is used to make a wide variety of Sundanese instruments. These include the karinding, a jew’s harp cut from a strip of bamboo, and the keprak, a bamboo tube split along part of its length, which produces a buzz of rising pitch when struck.

The celempung is a tube zither made from a large closed length of bamboo in which two strips of bark are cut away while remaining attached at both ends. Wooden wedges between the strip and the tube turn the strip into a ‘string’ that can be struck in imitation of kendang, the barrel drums of gamelan. Bamboo celempung are now rare: modern versions use weighted strips of rubber stretched over wooden boxes and are played by street musicians.

Both Calung and Angklung work on the same principle. A tube of bamboo is cut away, so that one end produces a pitch when struck and the other provides matching resonance by enclosing a column of air (fig.17). A set of these tubes, usually tuned to saléndro (see §(iii) below) comprises a calung. Holes are cut at the nodes of the tubes so that they can be suspended from string or wooden cross-pieces and struck with wooden beaters. When strung, they are either slung across a bamboo frame and played like a xylophone (calung gambang), or suspended like a hammock from the player’s waist to a convenient tree and played from one end (calung rantay); such instruments were used in rice-growing rituals. Modern calung ensembles have four sets of different sizes on hand-held cross-pieces (calung jingjing). The performers sing, dance and clown around while playing interlocking patterns and fast melodic lines.

In angklung, two or three tubes are held loosely in rattan frames. When the frame is shaken, the tubes (generally tuned an octave apart) produce a tremolo sound. Angklung sets are still used by the ‘Baduy’ people of Kanékés (and other rural communities) to accompany ceremonial dancing during rice-planting. The angklung buncis ensemble combines nine angklung with Tarompet(oboe), Kendang (double-headed barrel drums) and gong; it is used in ceremonies in honour of Nyi Pohaci or in circumcision parades. Formerly, angklung were usually tuned to saléndro. Since independence, angklung in Western tuning have been extensively used in state music education. Since one player can comfortably manipulate only two or three notes, they are played on the same principle as hand-bells.

Lisung, a hollowed-out log for stamping rice (see Lesung), is played with poles as a slit drum in the fertility ceremony known as gondang. The interlocking structure of the music is dictated by the necessity of taking turns to bring the heavy stamping poles down on the rice. The sides of the trough are struck in faster patterns by smaller sticks to decorate the rhythm. Dogdog are a set of long, single-headed cylindrical drums of different sizes held in the crook of the arm, one to each player. Together with angklung, tarompét, kendang and gong, dogdog accompanies réog. This folk entertainment combines songs, dance, story-telling and horseplay. Rebana or terebang are a set of shallow frame drums used to accompany songs of Islamic content. The bedug or bajidor is a very large double-headed cylindrical drum often found in mosques, which is used as a signal for Islamic occasions, such as the beginning of the fast. At the end of the fasting month, bedug are played loud, fast and long. In the genre adu bedug, drummers vie with each other to play the most interesting and exciting rhythms.

Non-percussion instruments also play an important role in rural Sundanese music. Jentréng tarawangsa is a harvest ceremony still performed in the Sumedang area, in which women dance while offerings are made to appease Nyi Pohaci. It is accompanied by a small, boat-shaped zither called kacapi jentréng and a fiddle constructed around a boat-shaped resonator, called the tarawangsa or ngék-ngék. Like the hull of traditional boats (parahu), the body of both instruments is dug out from a log. More modern kacapi parahu are much larger and constructed from separate planks.

In the epic narrative genre carita pantun, a bard (invariably male, often blind) accompanies himself on a kacapi while singing, narrating and providing the dialogue and sound effects. The vocal style is high-pitched and penetrating. Performances, which last all night, would normally be part of a hajat celebration. Pantun performances can also be used to ngaruat: bestow ritual blessing or exorcism on a person, house, or venture etc. There are no young pantun performers, and the tradition is in steep decline.

Indonesia, §V, 1(ii): The Sunda of West Java: Genres and ensembles

(c) Tembang Sunda.

Unlike many of the village genres mentioned above, the accompanied vocal genre tembang Sunda (also known as Cianjuran or mamaos) is thriving, especially as a prestigious pastime among the urban élite. It developed as an aristocratic entertainment at the court of Cianjur in the late 19th century and has roots in the carios pantun tradition, the sung poetry of wawacan and the gamelan repertories. The solo singing is low-pitched, highly ornamented, melancholy and introvert. The songs in free rhythm (mamaos) may be sung by male or female soloists and are accompanied by a kacapi parahu (boat-shaped zither) with 18 brass strings and the suling tembang, a long six-hole duct flute of bamboo. The mamaos songs fall into four categories: papantunan and jejemplangan (which are taken from the epic narrative carita pantun and always in the pélog degung tuning), rarancagan (the bulk of the repertory) and kakawén (taken from the mood of songs of the dalang in wayang).

Panambih, the metrical songs that conclude a suite of mamaos songs, are normally only sung by women. Many panambih derive from the gamelan repertories. In panambih, the ensemble is joined by one or two kacapi rincik, smaller zithers that are pitched an octave higher. Tembang Sunda commonly uses three tunings: pélog degung, sorog and saléndro (see §(iii) below). With songs in the saléndro tuning, the suling is replaced by the rebab, a two-string spike fiddle normally associated with gamelan saléndro. These metrical panambih songs are performed without singing in the genre kacapi suling.

Indonesia, §V, 1(ii): The Sunda of West Java: Genres and ensembles

(d) Kacapian.

This term is used to embrace a range of different vocal genres accompanied by a zither. They differ from tembang Sunda in being the domain of ordinary people, as opposed to the élite. Also, instead of the kacapi parahu, the kacapi siter is used, a smaller zither of box-like shape, with 20 steel strings and a brilliant sound. It is played by street musicians (usually male, often blind), who accompany themselves singing metrical songs in a high register with yodelling inflection and simpler ornaments than tembang. A similar style of accompaniment and singing is found in janaka Sunda, an entertainment that generally includes hilarious lyrics and dialogue with a second singer.

The kacapi siter is a useful instrument for domestic music making in providing a complete accompaniment on its own; it is also used in kawih, songs in which the accompaniment has a regular beat and even metre in which it may also be joined by gong, kendang and either suling or rebab. Celempungan is the performance of songs from the gamelan repertory using female and male singers, rebab, two kacapi, gong and kendang, the latter having replaced the celempung, the bamboo tube zither that gave the ensemble its name.

The influential composer and teacher Koko Koswara created a new virtuoso style of kacapi siter playing to accompany his popular kawih compositions, which features rapid figuration and runs, dramatic dynamic effects and complex arrangements; this style is widely taught in state schools.

Indonesia, §V, 1(ii): The Sunda of West Java: Genres and ensembles

(e) Gamelan ensembles.

Bronze is considered to be the best material for making the metal parts of gamelan instruments. Gong smithing is in decline in West Java, and the most highly-prized new instruments are often forged in Central Java, then tuned to suit Sundanese taste. Brass and iron gamelan are very common, as these materials are cheap and easy to tune.

Gamelan saléndro and pélog. Gamelan saléndro(named for its saléndro tuning) originally came to Sunda from Central Java (see Table 12 for instrumentation). Gamelan saléndro is used to accompany wayang golék (rod puppet theatre) and, in common with gamelan pélog, is also used to accompany dance. Gamelan pélog (with the same instrumentation as gamelan saléndro but in a different tuning) also originated from Central Java. It is now rarely heard in Sunda; sometimes gamelan degung (see below) is used as a substitute. Some of the top dalang (wayang golék puppeteers) now use gamelan selap, which combines both saléndro and pélog tunings on elongated instruments. Occasionally gamelan degung is used to perform gamelan pélog repertory.

	TABLE 12: Instrumentation of Gamelan saléndro

Sundanese name	description


goong	Pitched gong of approximately 70 cm diameter
kempul	Gong of 40 cm diameter
jengglong	low-pitched six kettle gong-chime
bonang	medium-pitched ten kettle gong-chime
rincik	high-pitched ten kettle gong-chime
panerus	low-pitched one octave metallophone
saron	medium-pitched one octave metallophones (two)
peking	high-pitched one octave metallophone
gambang	four octave xylophone
kendang	barrel drums (one large, two small)
rebab	two-string spike fiddle
juru kawih	female singer
	(sindén)
juru alok	male singer

Kliningan is the performance of gamelan saléndro pieces without dance or puppets. The term is said to derive from the name of a metallophone resembling the Javanese gendèr (with the keys supported by nails, rather than string), which is now defunct. Kliningan was once popular at hajat but has now been largely replaced either by the popular social dance jaipongan or the more prestigious gamelan degung.

In fast, loud pieces for gamelan saléndro, the melodic lead is shared by saron and bonang. In slow, quiet pieces, it is taken by the rebab and gambang (xylophone), who most closely shadow and cue the sindén (female singer, often the wife of the dalang or one of the gamelan musicians). Until the mid-20th century, gamelan saléndro did not often include a sindén, with the gamelan musicians themselves singing or contributing interlocking rhythmic cries (senggak). Beginning in the 1960s, the sindén, as the only females on stage, started to become the focus of musical and sexual attention, even upstaging the dalang at wayang golék.

Gamelan has also changed musically to accommodate the sindén. Loud, adventurous melodic lines on saron or bonang are no longer considered appropriate, as they would obscure the singer; instead, the gamelan ripples quietly in standardized interlocking patterns. Uneven amplification often renders the gamelan totally inaudible in performance.

The rhythmic lead is taken by the kendang player, who provides cues for starting and stopping, changing tempo or making a transition. In dance or wayang, the kendang player drums patterns that directly reflect the mood and movement. The largest kendang is set at an angle, with the rim of the largest head resting on the floor, so that the player can raise the pitch by applying pressure on the drum head with his heel. Within broad constraints, the individual kendang player has considerable scope for musical variation and subtlety. After the jaipongan craze of the 1980s, many drummers transferred the kendang jaipong style into other musical contexts, such as wayang and gamelan degung, despite the protests of conservatives.

Gamelan degung. This small ensemble, found only in Sunda, is said to derive from goong rénténg, a small ritual ensemble that is now rare. Gamelan degung was originally found only in the palaces of the traditional rulers until after independence, when it was gradually popularized. It has fewer instruments than gamelan saléndro, but they have a wider range. The instruments used for the classical repertory (degung klasik) are listed in Table 13; for more modern repertory, the following instruments may be added: kempul (small gong), gambang, rebab (replacing the suling), two saron barung (one octave metallophones playing interlocking figuration) and kacapi siter. Gamelan degung is tuned to the pélog degung scale (see §(iii) below).

TABLE 13: Instrumentation of Gamelan degung

Sundanese name	description


goong	Pitched gong of approximately 70 cm
		diameter
jengglong	low-pitched six kettle gong-chime (one
		octave)
bonang	medium-pitched, 14 kettle, single row
		gong-chime (two-and-a-half octaves)
cémprés (panerus)	two-and-a-half octave metallophone
peking	two-and-a-half octave metallophone of
		slightly higher pitch than cémprés (the
		ranges overlap)
kendang	barrel drums (one large, two small)
suling degung	short four-hole bamboo duct flute

In degung klasik, the bonang is the melodic leader, playing elaborate melodies that other instruments paraphrase or decorate. The bonang is also in rhythmic control: here the kendang contributes sparse patterns played with a stick (ditakol), which do little to affect the tempo. Degung klasik melodies often have phrases of uneven length, rather than the usual four-square metre of most gamelan music. There was no singing in gamelan degung until the 1960s, when the influential ensemble of Radio Republik Indonesia in Bandung added a female chorus, following the contour of the bonang melody.

In the more recent degung kawih style, by contrast, the gamelan degung provides a bland and regular accompaniment for the female vocal soloist. Her melody, shadowed and occasionally taken over by the suling, provides the musical focus. The bonang plays in octaves or in simple interlocking figuration with the panerus (cémprés). On the kendang (here the rhythmic leader) elaborate patterns are played with the hands (ditepak). Sometimes as a novelty degung kawih is performed by women (though never the suling or kendang).

Gamelan degung is sometimes used to play pieces from the classical repertory of gamelan pélog, with gambang and rebab. It has also become a vehicle for commercially-successful music such as the works of the pop Sunda composer nano S(uratno), and its near-diatonic tuning lends it to combination with Western instruments. Nevertheless, with its aristocratic origins, it is still deemed socially more prestigious than gamelan saléndro.

(iii) Instrumental tunings.

Most Sundanese music is based on pentatonic scales. The most commonly used are saléndro, pélog degung and sorog (or madénda). Some of these scales can be used in combination, especially in vocal music.

Traditionally, the different steps of the scale have names that are used across the various tunings. Some of the more common note names are presented in fig.18.

For convenience, musicians refer to the scale steps by the numbers 1 to 5, from high to low. The musical terms high (luhur) and low (handap) are often used by Sundanese instrumentalists to mean the opposite of what they mean in the West. In notation, subscript dots under ciphers indicate a higher octave (in the Western sense); a plus sign after a cipher lowers a note while a minus sign raises it.

(a) Saléndro.

This scale consists of five roughly equal intervals of around 240 cents each (see Table 14 below for Western approximation of saléndro pitches). Exact tunings vary and are often demonstrably unequidistant if measured objectively. Nevertheless, saléndro is generally perceived by Sundanese musicians as consisting of equidistant (padantara) intervals. This is demonstrated by the way both gamelan and kacapi players, when accompanying voices of limited range, sometimes transpose music down one pitch without needing to retune their instruments.

(b) Pélog degung.

This scale consists of five unequal intervals. Each gamelan degung may have its own slight variation in tuning, but in general the scale might be represented as in Table 14.

(c) Sorog.

In the course of a complete tembang Sunda session, the kacapi (zither) will be tuned first to pélog degung, then sorog and finally saléndro. These three tunings are also common in other musical styles featuring kacapi. The sorog (or madénda) scale is closely related to pélog degung (see Table 14).



TABLE 14: Gamelan tunings and their western approximations

	Saléndro	5 = C ↓ or B ↑	4 = D	3 = E	2 = G↓ or F↑	1 = A

	Degung	5 = B	4 = C	3 =D	2 = F	1 = G

	Sorog (Madenda)	5 = B	4 = C	3– = E	2 = F	1 = G

	↓and ↑ indicate pitches slightly lowered and raised, respectively

A kacapi tuned to the pélog degung scale can be quickly returned to sorog by sharpening all the panelu (3) strings by a whole tone. With gamelan degung it has become common practice to expand the repertory by having an alternate set of keys and pots tuned to the note panelu sorog (3-), enabling the musicians to retune the degung to sorog by physically removing and replacing all the panelu (3).

(iv) Pitch.

The overall pitch of different gamelan tunings varies slightly, within the range of approximately a semitone above or below the tunings illustrated. The pitch of kacapi tunings can vary much more radically, depending on the musical style and the singer’s capabilities. Over the last 50 years the pitch chosen by tembang Sunda singers has lowered by about a 4th.

Sundanese musicians define pitch by the length in centimetres of the suling tembang required to play at a particular pitch: a suling of about 55 cm will produce a barang (1) of A; 57 cm will give barang (1) of G; and 61 cm will give barang (1) of F.

(v) Notation.

This plays an unimportant role in the dissemination of Sundanese music. However, the Sundanese music theorist r. machjar angga Koesoemadinata (Pa Machjar) devised a system for referring to the notes by syllables (usually notated as numbers), which has gained wide acceptance among academically-trained musicians over the last 50 years. The syllables and corresponding numbers (from high to low) are da (1)–mi (2)–na (3)–ti (4)–la (5).

In the saléndro and pélog degung tunings, da–mi–na–ti–la corresponds to barang (1)–loloran (2)–panelu (3)–bem (4)–singgul (5). In tunings of the sorog type, da–mi–na–ti–la is transposed, so barang (1) no longer corresponds to da (1); see Table 15.

This practice obscures the essential intervallic difference between pélog degung and sorog, in so far as the intervals na–ti–la are not the same in both tunings. Da–mi–na–ti–la can become confusing in melodies that modulate frequently, and when it is not clear whether ciphers refer to traditional names or to da–mi–na–ti–la; it is most useful as a convenient oral shorthand.

(vi) Form.

Most Sundanese forms are cyclical. On reaching the final note (in gamelan marked by a gong), a piece can be repeated from the beginning any number of times, until an ending or a transition to another piece is made. Sundanese pieces fall into two broad types: sekar alit (‘small songs’), which are based on a framework of notes, and sekar ageung (‘large songs’), which are based on a melodic line.

(a) Sekar alit.

These are the most frequently performed songs and consist of one or more gong phrases, defined by a rhythm on the kempul (P) and goong (G), illustrated in Table 16a.

The hierarchy of destination pitches on which sekar alit are based is called patokan or kenongan. The most important destination pitch is marked by the goong (G), while the second most important is the pitch at mid-point of the gong phrase, called kenong (N). Next in importance is the pivot note played in between the goong and kenong notes, called pancer (c). Table 16b illustrates the patokan in its simplest form.

The various destination pitches are realized in a number of ways by the different instruments. Some play patterns that anticipate the next destination pitch, whereas others may reiterate the previous one. In ex.21, Sorong Dayung (which can be played in either saléndro or pélog), the goong pitch (G) is barang (1), the kenong pitch (N) is panelu (3) and the pancer (c) is loloran (2). The two saron anticipate each destination pitch with interlocking parts that combine as runs, while the bonang anticipates and reiterates the goong and kenong parts, treating the pancer as a passing note; other instruments realize the patokan with their own characteristic patterns.

Sekar alit can be played at different levels of expansion, called wilet, a concept similar to irama in Javanese gamelan. If a gong phrase in sawilet (‘one’ wilet) lasts eight beats, then a gong phrase in dua wilet (‘two’ wilet) lasts 16 beats, and one in opat wilet (‘four’ wilet) lasts 32 (Table 16). In the dua wilet expansion the patokan may be dilipetkeun, literally ‘folded over’. In opat wilet the patokan sometimes follows the vocal melody, rather than being a literal expansion of dua wilet.

(b) Sekar ageung.

In this form each instrument plays its own characteristic elaboration or simplification of the melody. In gamelan saléndro or pélog, the melody is most clearly stated by the singers, rebab and gambang. In gamelan degung it is carried by the bonang, which also controls the tempo and transitions (usurping the kendang). The sekar ageung of degung sometimes have a strikingly irregular metrical structure: while in gamelan all phrases are eight beats long, in degung other phrase lengths also occur.

(c) Mamaos and kakawén.

Another type of formal structure is found in the mamaos songs of tembang Sunda and the kakawén songs of wayang. These songs are sung in free rhythm, and the phrase lengths are not determined by a steady beat. In some mamaos and kakawén the accompaniment played by kacapi or gamelan is equally free; the accompanists listen to the cadences in the vocal part and tie in their part with the destination pitches. In other songs the accompaniment consists of patterns with a beat, which are repeated as often as is necessary to fit the vocal part (ex.22).

(vii) Melody.

(a) Kawih and sénggol.

The sekar alit forms usually accompany melodies carried by the singer and rebab (or suling). Although some sekar alit are only used for one specific melody, the more common ones can accompany any number of improvisations and pre-existing melodies. Such melodies are called kawih. In gamelan the kawih is largely improvised; provided she ties in with the destination pitches, the singer can be very creative in her use of ornament, melodic contour, rhythm, text and even tuning system. In tembang Sunda the kawih melodies are fixed.

The vocalist, suling and rebab players have considerable rhythmic freedom in interpreting their melody. Although kawih melodies are broadly metrical, often with octo-syllabic texts that reinforce the eight-beat metre of the accompaniment, the timing always subtly side-steps the regular beat. The melody usually reaches the destination pitch at the end of a phrase before the accompaniment does.

The term sénggol can be used to refer to a melodic line, a particular turn of phrase or just the flavour of an ornament. Great attention is paid to the finest details of ornamentation, for they determine the style of sénggol. Tembang Sunda aficionados will mercilessly heckle a singer who uses a slide or grace note considered more appropriate to gamelan.

(b) Vocal scales.

Kawih melodies are rich in notes that lie outside the pentatonic scale played by the accompanying instruments. In pieces in the pélog degung and sorog tunings such excursions are generally confined to single notes or passing turns of phrase, referred to as modulasi, from the Dutch for ‘modulation’ (ex.23).

In pieces in saléndro, the vocalist and rebab player often superimpose melodies in sorog. The saléndro accompaniment (on gamelan or kacapi) and the sorog melody generally share three destination pitches. Many sekar alit are based on combinations of the saléndro notes 4 2 1. The kawih would then use the sorog scale 4 3+ 2 1 5+. In the accompaniment the saléndro note 5 or 3 would be treated as a pancer, a pivotal note in an unstressed position. The contrast between saléndro and sorog pitches gives the melody great expressive power.

In pieces based on saléndro 4 3 1, the kawih would use 4 3 2+ 1 5+. The kawih for a more complex piece such as Rénggong Gancang, based on the saléndro pitches 3 (4) 2 (1), alternates between these two sorog scales.

Sekar alit based on 4 2 1 may also accompany kawih in the pélog scale 4 3- 2 1 5-, while those based on 4 3 1 may use the pélog scale 4 3 2- 1 5-. These scales are summarized with Western approximations in Table 17.

TABLE 17: Some of the sorog and pélog scales found in the kawih melodies of pieces in saléndro

destination pitches (saléndro):	4		2	1		4	3		1
approximate Western equivalent	D		G	A		D	E		A

sorog scale in kawih:	4	3+	2	1	5+	4	3	2+	1	5+
approximate western equivalent	D	E	G	A	B	D	E	F	A	B

pélog scale in kawih:	4	3−	2	1	5−	4	3	2−	1	5−
approximate Western equivalent	D	F	G	A	C	D	E	G	A	C

(viii) Dance and theatre.

(a) Martial art and dance.

The martial art penca silat (or maén po) is popular in Sunda. It is accompanied by two drummers, who play interlocking rhythms on large kendang, together with a tarompét (oboe) and a small gong. The kendang rhythms correspond closely to the movement. A similar ensemble, with an amplified female singer and additional percussion, accompanies the circumcision parade sisingaan, in which a small boy sits on a life-sized replica of a lion and is carried shoulder high.

Ketuk tilu was a flirtatious open-air dance in which ronggéng (female entertainers) sang and danced, accompanied by one kendang player, rebab, kecrék (small metal plates clashed rhythmically with a beater), gong and ketuk, a set of three small gongs. Male dancers would pay the ronggéng to dance with them. Because some ronggéng also worked as prostitutes, this genre has fallen into disrepute, but respectable stage versions are sometimes still performed. Musically the ketuk tilu repertory is rich, featuring vertiginous tempo changes and a wide variety of scales. Many ketuk tilu melodies have been arranged and absorbed into the gamelan saléndro and gamelan degung repertories.

Dancing was an important social accomplishment among the aristocracy before independence. At a tayuban (dance party) dancers took turns, selecting the next person to come forward by placing a scarf on his neck. The choreography was spontaneous, and the kendang player would accompany the movement. By the mid-20th century, less flexible choreographies in the same style were created and termed ibing keurseus (‘course dance’, i.e. learnt through a course of lessons). In the 1950s R. Tjetje Somantri was the first of a series of choreographers to create new dances that used a wider vocabulary of movements and were intended for stage performance. This kreasi baru style often relies on striking costumes and may depict animals or actions, such as the tari merak (peacock dance), tari kupu-kupu (butterfly), tari céndrawasih (bird of paradise) and tari tenun (weaving). Séndratari, large-scale narrative choreographies, are sometimes staged.

Since 1980 the most popular dance form has been jaipongan, developed by Gugum Gumbira. He combined dynamic movements from ketuk tilu and penca silat with the daring and dynamic jaipong style of the drummer Suwanda from Karawang, using small, shrill kendang. As well as being a stage performance, jaipongan has replaced tayuban and ketuk tilu as a social dance. The ensemble is dominated by the drummer, singer and amplifier. Gugum Gumbira owns the cassette company Jugala, and his jaipongan tapes have been important in disseminating and standardizing this genre, often replacing live music. Through the 1990s the jaipongan craze lessened, but it is still commonly performed, especially at rural hajat.

(b) Theatre.

Sandiwara is a Sundanese theatre genre that combines spoken dialogue and gamelan saléndro. Since the advent of television it has become virtually defunct. More often performed is gending karésmén (Sundanese opera), which combines singing, acting, dance and narration with plots usually taken from Sundanese legends. Gending karésmén have been composed in a variety of musical styles; those produced by the academic establishment are often in the kawih style of Koko Koswara, while others draw on the tembang Sunda or gamelan degung repertories. The music usually consists of arrangements of existing pieces, or parts of pieces.

Wayang golék purwa (rod puppet theatre) is the most important Sundanese theatre form, based on stories from the Ramayana and Mahabarata epics that have been adapted to include Sundanese characters. Wayang is an expensive venture and has to be sponsored by a wealthy individual or institution. It is usually staged as part of the celebrations of a marriage, circumcision, momentous occasion or anniversary. The general public are normally free to crowd round and watch, and the stage is a magnet for milling hawkers, food sellers, fortune-tellers, tricycle and motorcycle taxi riders and others to ply their trades. Performances usually happen outdoors, beginning in the evening and continuing into the small hours.

The dalang (or puppeteer) sits cross-legged at the front of a square, covered stage. Mounted horizontally in front of him are two soft banana tree trunks, into which the spike at the bottom of the central rod of the puppets can be planted. To his left is the large wooden chest in which the puppets are carried to the performance. He cues the gamelan saléndro at his back by knocking on the chest with a heavy round piece of wood (campala). Suspended loosely together on the side of the chest are several metal plates, the kecrék, which produce loud, percussive sound effects during fight scenes. Single-handedly, the dalang manipulates the puppets in fights, dances and slapstick, provides the different voices and narration (including archaic language in the formal scenes), sings the kakawén (mood songs), improvises jokes and directs the ensemble through rhythmic and verbal cues, for up to eight hours without script, score or stretching his legs.

The kendang player is the musical link between dalang and gamelan, playing dance patterns, making vicious sound effects or signalling a transition or the end of a gong phrase to match the movement or action. The gamelan players lend vocal support, laughing at jokes, heckling the bad characters and answering rhetorical questions. Wayang golék operates at many levels: as sheer entertainment, as philosophical and religious teaching and as a means of promoting government programmes such as family planning, social satire, benediction or exorcism.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

GEWMiv (‘Sunda’; S. Williams)

R.M.A. Koesoemadinata: Ilmu seni raras: ilmu musik Indonesia asli [Knowledge of the art of sound: knowledge of traditional Indonesian music] (Bandung, 1969)

I. Natapradja: Karawitan Sunda [Sundanese gamelan] (diss., UCLA, 1971)

M.L. Harrell: The Music of the Gamelan Degung of West Java (diss., UCLA, 1974)

M.L. Harrell: ‘Some aspects of Sundanese music’, Selected Reports in Ethnomusicology, ii/2 (1975), 81–101

E.L. Heins: Goong renteng: Aspects of Orchestral Music in a Sundanese Village (diss., U. of Amsterdam, 1977)

C. Falk: ‘The Tarawangsa: a Bowed Instrument from West Java’, Studies in Indonesian music, ed. M.J. Kartomi (Clayton, Victoria, 1978), 45–103

K. Foley: The Sundanese Wayang Golek: the Rod Puppet Theatre of West Java (diss., U. of Hawaii, 1979)

J. Hugh-Jones: ‘Karawitan Sunda, Tradition Newly Writ: a Survey of Sundanese Music Since Independence’, Recorded Sound, no.82 (1982), 19–34

R.E. Baier: Si Duriat Keueung: the Sundanese Angklung Ensemble of West Java, Indonesia (thesis, Wesleyan U., 1986)

P. Manuel and R. Baier: ‘Jaipongan: Indigenous Popular Music of West Java’, AsM, xviii/1 (1986), 91–110

R.A. Stahl: Transformations in Kacapi Suling Music (diss., U. of California, Santa Cruz, 1987)

P. Buurman: Wayang Golek: the Entrancing World of Classical Javanese Puppet Theatre (Oxford, 1988)

S.C. DeVale: ‘Gong Forging in Bogor, West Java: the Process Through its Soundscape’, Pacific Review of Ethnomusicology, v (1989), 89–123

R.M. Fryer: Sundanese Theory and Practice in the Performance of Gamelan in Bandung, West Java (diss., Queen’s U. of Belfast, 1989)

W. van Zanten: Sundanese Music in the Cianjuran Style: Anthropological and Musicological Aspects of Tembang Sunda (Dordrecht, 1989)

A. Weintraub: The Music of Pantun Sunda: an Epic Narrative Tradition of West Java, Indonesia (thesis, U. of Hawaii, 1990)

S. Williams: ‘Current Developments in Sundanese Popular Music’, AsM, xxi/2 (1990), 105–36

S. Williams: The Urbanization of Tembang Sunda (diss., U. of Washington, 1990)

S. Cook: Guide to Sundanese music (Bandung, 1992)

S. Cook: ‘Parallel Versions of Tembang Sunda Melodies in Different Tunings’, Oideion, i (1993), 55–84

A. Weintraub: ‘Theory in Institutional Pedagogy and “Theory in Practice” for Sundanese Gamelan Music’, EthM, xxxvii (1993), 29–39

W. van Zanten: ‘Notation of Music: Theory and Practice in West Java’, Oideion, ii (1995), 209–34

R. Swindells: Flexible Formulaity: Aspects of Ornamentation and Melodic Embellishment on the Sundanese Suling of West Java (thesis, City U., 1996)

A. Weintraub: Constructing the Popular: Superstars, Performance and Cultural Authority in Sundanese Wayang Golek Purwa of West Java, Indonesia (diss., U. of California, Berkeley, 1997)

recordings

Tonggeret, perf. I. Hadidjah, rec. 1979–96, Nonesuch 9 79173-2 (1987)

The Sound of Sunda, perf. E. Komariah, Y. Wiradiredja, GlobeStyle CDORB 060 (1990)

Indonesia: Music from West Java/Indonésie: musique de l’ouest de Java, rec. 1970, Auvidis Unesco D 8041 (1992)

Tembang Sunda, perf. I. Widawati with Linkungan Seni Malati Ida, Inedit W 260056 (1994)

Java - pays sunda: musiques savantes, i: Musique et chants classiques, coll. J. Brunet, rec. 1973, Ocora C 580064 (1995)

Java - Sunda: musiques savantes, ii: L’art du gamelan degung, coll. J. Brunet, rec. 1972–3, Ocora C 560097 (1996)

Java - Sunda: musiques savantes, iii: Les grands gamelans du cour, Ocora C 560098 (1996)

Nano S: the Great Master of Sunda Music, King Record KICC 5212 (1996)

Indonesia, §V: West Java

2. Cirebon.

This cultural area of the western Javanese littoral includes (but is not limited to) the municipality and regency of Cirebon and adjacent regencies. A recent population estimate of Cirebonese was five million. The region has a distinctive dialect of Javanese (Cirebon Javanese) and a historical tradition dating back to the late 15th century, when the port-polity of Cirebon was founded as an Islamic sultanate. During the 16th century, Cirebon functioned as a minor point in the Asia-Africa oceanic trading nexus, as well as an important centre for Islamic mysticism and the arts. ‘Cirebon’ is believed to be etymologically derived from an Old Javanese word meaning ‘mixture’. Its lively performing arts, including music, reflect and shape an ethos that is openly and consciously hybrid in orientation. Many artistic idioms and forms are unique to the area, whereas others are related to genres found in the Sundanese highlands to the south and elsewhere in Java.

Music making, as in much of Java, is linked primarily to theatre, dance and processions. Performing ensembles are almost inevitably rurally based, and although the city of Cirebon's royal courts act as occasional sponsors, the vast majority of performances occur in the densely populated towns and villages outside the major cities of the coastal plain, in conjunction with individual rites of passage (weddings, circumcisions) and communal celebrations (e.g. harvest festivals). Music is rarely written down, prompting improvisation; only structure and melodic contour are (relatively) fixed. No genres are purely instrumental; all involve singing or chanting of some sort.

There are two major variants of gamelan, Java's ubiquitous gong-chime ensemble – one tuned to a pentatonic scale known as prawa, the other to the heptatonic pélog tuning. A sacred pélog set in the Kanoman royal court reputedly dates to 1520. Prawa is used primarily to accompany shadow puppet theatre (wayang kulit) and mask-dance (topèng), whereas pélog ensembles usually accompany rod puppet theatre (wayang golèk cepak), social dance (tayuban, pesta) and costume drama (sandiwara, masres). The number of musicians ranges from 6 to 15, playing a variety of metallophones, drums and gongs, as well as singing. (Busking genres, such as the horse trance dance known as jaran lumping and the itinerant monkey show known as topèng kethèk, employ reduced gamelan ensembles of three or so musicians.) The introduction of sound amplification in the 1950s has contributed to the increased prominence of the female vocalist (pesindhèn) in gamelan. Performances featuring gamelan inevitably present classical standards as well as the latest popular songs, requested by audience members. Male spectators, viscerally aroused by lively drumming, frequently dance during shows.

A variety of genres feature frame drums (rebana, terbang, genjring), including genjring, qasidah, gembyung and brai. The frame drum is conceived of as an Islamic instrument, and texts sung to the accompaniment of frame-drumming are often in Arabic or treat religious subjects. Genjring, which now incorporates electric guitars and gongs, is the best known of these genres. Genjring ensembles commonly accompany circumcision processions, as well as an acrobatic display (genjring akrobat) inspired by the European circuses that began touring Java in the second half of the 19th century.

A number of rare genres, including trance dances known as sintren and lais, as well as a processional genre known as réyog that formerly featured clowning and folk dramatics, were traditionally accompanied by buyung, resonant earthenware jars struck on the lip of their necks. Busking mummers costumed as ogres (wéwéan) are accompanied typically by a single drum. Sliding bamboo rattles (angklung) are associated with a singular ritual dance known as angklung Bungko. The practice of unaccompanied singing of poetic literature in Cirebon Javanese (bujanggaan or macaan, the poor man's alternative to sponsoring costly theatrical troupes) has largely disappeared, along with a number of other minor performance genres, since the advent of tape recorder rental services catering to entertainment needs in the 1970s.

Cirebonese music changed greatly during the course of the 20th century. A nascent version of the comic operetta form today known as tarling (from gitar and the suling, the two most prominent instruments in its musical ensemble) was created by Sugra (1921–99) in 1933. Tarling was originally a purely musical form, featuring both guitar and impromptu gamelan instruments, with traces of jazz harmony and kroncong ballad singing (see §VIII, 1 below). In subsequent years, tarling incorporated story-telling, clowning and drama. Dangdut, a pan-Indonesian musical genre inspired partially by Indian film music, had a huge impact on the musical life of Cirebon starting around 1977. It was not long before dangdut infused nearly all of Cirebon's musical genres, spawning numerous hybrid forms such as tarling dangdut (the generic name for Cirebonese popular music). Sundanese jaipongan dance music has also been influential; since the 1980s, mastery of the jaipongan idiom has been requisite for drummers in gamelan ensembles. The latest significant generic development has been the inception of organ tunggal (solo synthesizer) around 1996, an enormously popular musical concert form with a pared-down dangdut ensemble (often a solo keyboard player) and several singer-dancers.

The audiocassette industry has been a crucial development, beginning in 1972. Recordings of both classical and popular musical idioms, as well as dramatic forms, are widely consumed: popular music albums with lyrics in Cirebon Javanese produced by companies based in Jakarta, Bandung, Semarang and Cirebon can sell up to 100,000 copies. Popular music gets much play on local radio, and popular music videos became increasingly visible on provincial and national television during the 1990s, contributing to the superstar status of vocalists such as Itih S. Popular music karaoke audiocassette tapes and other technology are currently widespread.

Music making is seasonal work. There are few performances during the rainy season, for example, and as certain months are considered more auspicious than others for holding ritual celebrations, the frequency of performances varies greatly. Most musicians supplement their income by trading, farming or home industry. During the nights of Ramadan, the Islamic fasting month, villages thrum to the sounds of obrog-obrogan, musical processionals combining both strictly amateur and highly professional musicians. These roving ensembles nominally wake up sleeping villagers for the prefast meal but also provide entertainment for the masses and vital training for musicians. Many musical genres are represented.

There are a number of well-known (though underpaid) composer-lyricists of tarling dangdut songs who are frequently tarling producer-actors, including Yoyo Suwaryo (b 1957) and Pepen Effendi (b 1955), whose compositions are prominent on commercially-produced audiocassettes. Some popular songs, such as the now-classic Warung Pojok (‘Corner cafe’) by H. Adul Adjib (b 1942), have catapulted to national attention. Composers writing in other idioms tend to be less recognized for their efforts.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

GEWM, iv (‘Cirebon’; E. Suanda)

J. Kunst and C.J.A. Kunst van Wely: ‘Over Toonschalen en Instrumenten van West-Java’, Djawa, iii (1924), 24–40

M.J. Kartomi: Matjapat Songs in Central and West Java (Canberra, 1973)

M. Wright: The Music Culture of Cirebon (diss., UCLA, 1978)

E. Suanda: ‘The Social Context of Cirebonese Performing Artists’, AsM, xiii/l (1981), 27–42

P.R. Abdurachman: Cerbon (Jakarta, 1982)

E. Suanda: ‘Cirebonese Topeng and Wayang of the Present Day’ AsM, xvi/2 (1985), 84–120

M.I. Cohen: Demon Abduction: a Wayang Ritual Drama from West Java (Jakarta, 1998)

M.I. Cohen: ‘The Incantation of Semar Smiles: a Tarling Musical Drama by Pepen Effendi’, Asian Theatre Journal, xvi (1999), 139–93

2. Selected musical cultures and regions.

VI. Sumatra

Sumatra is one of the largest islands of the Indonesian archipelago. The Barisan mountain range runs the length of the island, dividing the mangrove forests, peat and freshwater swamps and tropical forests of the east from the narrow coastal region of the west. Culturally, Sumatra’s dozens of ethnic groups present a picture of great diversity. For over 1000 years, small-scale forest-dwelling or nomadic societies have co-existed with kingdoms, often trade-based and situated on the coasts. Since ancient times, Sumatra’s strategic position in the Asian sea lanes brought it into contact with traders from India, the Middle East and China, whose religions and cultures have marked its societies. More recently, the presence of the Portuguese in the Straits of Malacca (from 1511) and incursions by the British and Dutch in the 19th century introduced Christianity and Western cultural and musical influences.

Ethnomusicological research on Sumatran music has yet to do full justice to this diversity. Much research has focussed on the most populous province, North Sumatra, with important studies on the traditions of West Sumatra and to a lesser extent on those of Riau. Far less is known about music in the southern provinces (Jambi, South Sumatra, Bengkulu and Lampung); hence for most Sumatran ethnic groups no detailed ethnomusicological studies have been published. Given such a wealth of musical variety and a dearth of documentation, this article presents a broad overview of styles and instruments, then focusses on a few of the better-documented traditions. Studies of traditions not mentioned in the text are listed in the bibliography, while Kartomi (GEWM, iv) summarizes much unpublished research on Sumatran music.

1. Overview.

3. Melayu.

4. The islands of Nias and Mentawai.

5. Minangkabau.

6. Aceh.

1. Overview.

Music in Sumatra reflects the island’s long history of migration and trade, both internally and with other areas of Indonesia and Asia. It is tempting to divide Sumatran music into historical strata corresponding to major periods of foreign influence, such as pre-Islamic, Islamic and European-influenced genres. However, this is not a reliable guide to either the sound of a musical genre or its socio-cultural context. Music for the Melayu (Malay) zapin dance, for example, is associated with Arab influence and is sometimes played on the ‘ūd lute, yet some of its core repertory sounds no less Western than some of the so-called European-influenced Melayu music and is surrounded by magical beliefs like the so-called indigenous genres. The korps musik brass bands of the Toba Batak play Western hymns, yet they are integrated into the ritual oratory and communal dancing of Toba ceremonial precisely like the gondang sabangunan ensemble. In the Melayu ronggeng tradition, nominally classified as part of the post-Portuguese stratum, European-type diatonicism co-exists with Chinese-sounding pentatonicism and augmented 2nd tetrachords of the hijaz type (see Mode,§V, 2).

Rather than privilege historical origin as the key classificatory feature, the following commonalities may be noted.

(a) Choral singing is often performed by single-sex groups (usually male). In Muslim societies it is often tied to Islamic devotional themes (e.g. Melayu marhaban, Minangkabau indang, Gayo saman and Nias hoho).

(b) Laments (Toba andung, Gayo sebuku, Alas tangis dillo, Nias fabölösi) are sung at funerals, by the bride at weddings or by mediums to communicate with the spirit world.

(c) Percussion-dominated ensembles range from a rack of gong-kettles played by one to three people, through to larger ensembles with drums and/or hanging gongs, which can also include aerophones. Common sub-types include the family of gong-kettle ensembles exemplified by the Minangkabau talempong, the Melinting (Lampung) kulintang and the Abung tabuhan, often played by women. These tuned, bossed kettles, played in interlocking fashion, are usually made of brass or bronze, though among the Alas of Aceh sardine cans may be pressed into service. Often the musicians distinguish a nominally invariable ostinato part (sometimes called penyelalu) from a more variable part (peningkah). The drums of the drum-based ensembles are also played in interlocking fashion by several musicians, though in some cases a single musician plays melodically on the entire set. In many cases the repertory of both kinds of ensemble can also be played (or at least practised) on a solo xylophone.

(d) Flutes (usually rim-blown or end-blown) sometimes accompany singing and are often associated with narrative poetry, love-magic or laments (e.g. the Toba sordam, the Minangkabau saluang sirompak, the Nias zigu and the Petalangan sempelong).

(e) Entertainment music, often accompanying social dances, sometimes combines hand drums with violins and accordions (and more recently, amplified instruments).

(f) Song texts often take the form of pantun, stanzas (usually ABAB rhyming quatrains) known under various names in many Indonesian languages. They consist of two equal sections: the first (sampiran) generally makes an impersonal statement, often a description of nature, while the second (isi), rhyming with the first and sometimes syntactically parallel to it, may contain a first-person statement of feelings, an address to the listener or a moral exhortation or reflection on life.

These categories omit more than they include. Not only are there many unique instruments and various ensembles unclassifiable under the foregoing rubrics (the Nias bamboo buzzer, duri-dana, the Mandailing earth-zither, gordang tano, the Minangkabau giant lithophone, alu bakatentong), but this schema ignores the musical practices of the more-or-less distinct immigrant communities of Chinese, Indians and Javanese. The influence of the latter can be seen in the presence of Javanese folk theatre (ketoprak dor) in North Sumatra and the hobby-horse trance dances (kuda kepang) found there and also among the Rejang of Bengkulu.

2. Selected musical cultures and regions.

(i) Batak.

These seven North Sumatran groups (Toba, Karo, Simalungun, Pakpak (Dairi), Angkola and Mandailing) have related but distinct languages, customs and traditional arts. The Batak groups are divided by religion (the Mandailing are Islamic, the Toba Christian) and to some extent by language (Toba and Karo in particular are mutually unintelligible), though they share a principle of social organization based on exogamous patrilineal clans.

Music plays an important role in life-cycle ceremonies; indeed, the word for ‘ceremony’ (gondang in Toba, gendang in Karo) is also a central musical term, meaning drum, ensemble and musical composition. The central ceremonial activity is a series of dances (Toba tortor; Karo landek) by several groups of dancers, each usually representing a clan with a definite relationship to the host or some other kind of corporate group (e.g. church, youth-group). Musicians are necessary to accompany the dancing, but they are also considered to be intermediaries between the celebrants and the Creator. The dancing is often preceded by a sort of musical prayer, the ritual sounding of a medley of several compositions (or fragments thereof) played without pause (e.g. the Toba si pitu gondang or the Simalungun gonrang parahot).

(ii) Toba.

The gondang sabangunan, an ensemble of drums, oboes and gongs, is the most prestigious accompaniment for Toba ceremonies. Originally heard only at major life-cycle ceremonies held outdoors and lasting for several days, it now accompanies more modest, indoor events as well. The gongs (ogung), two suspended and two held against the players’ laps or chests, maintain a rhythmic ostinato. At least one player of the sarune bolon (double-reed aerophone) is essential. The gordang, a large, low-pitched, single-headed drum, maintains a rhythmic ostinato, and the hesek-hesek (a broken hoe blade or a beer bottle) keeps a steady beat. The taganing drum-chime, a set of five tuned drums played with sticks, sometimes plays a similar rhythmic role, but it can also follow the melodic line of the sarune. The five principal pitches of the sarune vary from one instrument to another but are roughly comparable to the first five tones of a diatonic scale. They are mapped onto the more expansive range of the taganing, whose five tones are separated by intervals closer to Western 4ths, major 3rds and minor 3rds. Hence a gondang composition played in this fashion presents two simultaneous melodic lines of near-identical contour but highly contrasting pitch content.

The taganing player’s choice of rhythmic ostinato versus melody seems to be determined by a variety of factors; some gondang do not permit melodic playing, while some ceremonial performance contexts demand rhythmic ostinato. However, as melodic playing is considered more virtuoso, there may be a tendency for it to be applied to increasing numbers of gondang.

The gondang hasapi ensemble features one or more hasapi (two-string lutes) and sarune etek (small clarinets); other instruments, such as the garantung (xylophone) and sulim (transverse flute), may also be used. Its repertory is identical to that of the gondang sabangunan. Indeed, when several hasapi are present, those that play the melody (as opposed to a constant rhythmic strumming) are distinguished by the term hasapi taganing. Considered to be the proper accompaniment for smaller indoor ceremonies, the gondang hasapi ensemble has in fact been replaced for most public purposes by the more prestigious ‘outdoor’ ensemble, gondang sabangunan. The gondang hasapi ensemble remains in use for curing ceremonies and plays an important role in the worship of the Parmalim sect.

Uning-uningan refers to the entertainment music performed by the expanded gondang hasapi ensemble. Although it may include light-hearted pieces from the ceremonial repertory, most of its music comes from Opera Batak, the popular Batak theatre associated with Tilhang Gultom (1896–1970). Some of the melodies stay within the five-tone range of the gondang hasapi, but most uning-uningan use the full ambitus of the Western major scale.

Toba gondang compositions can be analytically classified into two broad categories: paired-phrase and motivic. Paired-phrase gondang consist of a sequence of phrases, each of which is played twice (e.g. AABBCCDDEE). Usually each phrase lasts an even number of gong-cycles and is typically composed of two similar sub-phrases. Motivic gondang, by contrast, consist of a sequence of very short motifs, perhaps two or four beats long. Each motif is repeated several times before proceeding to the next. The number of repetitions is not precisely fixed: when a large gondang hasapi ensemble performs one of these gondang, there is sometimes a ‘tug-of-war’ between the players who move quickly from one motif to the next and those who wish to linger over each one.

In a ceremonial context, each round of dancing is introduced by a speech on behalf of the clan represented. In their role as patoruson (intermediaries who convey human speech to God), musicians interact with the orator, punctuating his prayers with rhythmic flourishes. Each speech ends with a request for the musicians to play a composition (gondang). This request may be explicit, highly allusive or even cryptic; it is part of the musicians’ skill to intuit or deduce the proper piece. Possibly as a result of this practice, the association of titles with gondang is highly variable among Toba musicians.

The Lutheran missionaries who converted the Toba in the 1860s also introduced brass bands to play hymns, and by the 1920s there were enough Toba musicians experienced with these instruments to form their own bands (korps musik). Now sometimes augmented by drum kit, electric guitars and keyboards, these remain popular in the Balige and Laguboti areas, where they often replace the gondang sabangunan at life-cycle ceremonies. The traditional oratory is unchanged but is now punctuated by guitar riffs or synthesizer glissandos instead of the taganing rhythmic flourishes. The orator continues to request gondang compositions in the usual way, but the band responds with hymns or folk tunes.

Laments (andung) are sung by both men and women. Primarily used to mourn the dead, they are also sung while herding, courting, working in the fields or before tapping palm-wine. The number of people singing laments at a funeral is a measure of the prestige of the deceased. Some people are respected for their ability at andung; these have mastered the special vocabulary of the lament (about 500 items), can recount the life of the deceased and are thought to have experienced much suffering.

The rim-blown bamboo sordam flute is attributed magical attractive powers, and its two main uses depend on this belief. The datu ritual specialist plays the melodies of andung laments upon it to summon spirits. Similarly, young men seeking to bewitch a girl use it for love magic: the sound of the sordam, played in the fields at night, will wake the desired girl and force her to seek the player.

(iii) Karo.

The gendang lima sedalanen ensemble is the major musical accompaniment for Karo ceremonies. In striking contrast to the equivalent Toba ensemble, its instruments range in size from the small to the tiny. A saruné (oboe) about 25 cm long carries the melody, punctuated by strokes on two hanging gongs, while rhythmic backing is provided by two double-headed drums, gendang singindungi and gendang singanaki. These thin drums are held by the players’ feet against their thighs and played with short bulbous sticks. On the gendang singanaki (which plays a rhythmic ostinato) is mounted the gerantung, a miniscule drum about 13 cm long. The lead drum, gendang singindungi, plays virtuoso variations. The skin is stretched on a ring-shaped frame deliberately lashed loosely onto the drum’s wooden body; this allows the drum strokes to modify the tension of the head, and hence the pitch produced. Rim shot strokes, in striking both the skin and the frame, leave the tension unmodified; strokes on the skin alone pull on the frame, reducing the tension and lowering the pitch. By combining these strokes, a skilful player can produce an extended downward glissando.

The kulcapi two-string lute was until recently used only by storytellers, for ceremonial purifications or to appease the spirits. It was not played with drums but with the keteng-keteng, a bamboo idiochord zither. Over the past few decades the kulcapi has taken over the repertory of the gendang lima sedalanen; it is often used to accompany life-cycle ceremonies as well as the social dances for unmarried youths associated with harvest festivals (guro-guro aron).

The rim-blown surdam flute is used by storytellers, by the guru belin (spirit medium, healer) to summon back a patient’s wandering spirit (raleng tendi) and by young men to enchant girls.

Like the Toba tradition, the Karo repertory contains both compositions with fixed melodies and motif-based pieces. The perkolong-kolong songs of professional singers belong to the former category, except for the best-known example of the genre, Simalungun Rayat, which is also played by the ceremonial gendang lima sedalanen ensemble.

(iv) Mandailing and Angkola.

All Mandailing ceremonial ensembles include drums, large and small gongs, cymbals, single-reed sarune aerophones and an optional vocal part. The gordang sambilan, using nine tall drums, is the largest and most prestigious. It is played only on special occasions: for the wedding of a village chief’s daughter, for example, or to bring rain during a drought. It is installed in a special pavilion and ‘inaugurated’ by the highest ritual authority before it may be played. The drums are mounted so that the drumheads are at or near eye-level, and the players stand while playing. The drummers often dance to their interlocking rhythms; special offerings are prepared to prevent them from falling into trance. Playing the jangat (lowest-pitched drum) demonstrates not only musical skill but also leadership potential: the vigour and confidence with which the drummer beats out cross-rhythms demonstrates the force of his personality and earns him respect.

Smaller and less prestigious ensembles with ceremonial functions are the gordang lima and gondang dua (also called gondang boru), featuring five and two drums respectively. The gondang bulu is a bamboo idiochord zither, used for practising the music of the gondang and gordang ensembles and to accompany girls practising tortor (dances).

(v) Simalungun.

The two major ceremonial ensembles both use large and small gongs, the double-reed sarunei bolon and optional cymbals, but are distinguished by the number of drums: the gonrang sidua-dua employs two, the gonrang sipitu-pitu (also called gonrang bolon), seven. As with the Mandailing, the larger ensemble is associated with larger ceremonies, though there are exceptions. For example, at a royal funeral the huda-huda masked dances must be accompanied not by the prestigious gonrang bolon but by a modified gonrang sidua-dua ensemble, to reinforce the humorous effect of the dancing.

To a great extent repertory is common to both ensembles and also to the seven-key garantung xylophone, which can be used to practise the gonrang repertory.

(vi) Pakpak (Dairi).

Similar to the Mandailing and Simalungun, ceremonial ensembles among the Pakpak (Dairi) exist in different sizes, appropriate to different-sized events. The chief distinguishing factor is the number of drums: the use of two, five, seven or nine drums defines the different types of genderang ensemble (suspended and hand-held bossed gongs and cymbals are common to all). Cognate to the Toba and Simalungun garantung xylophones is the kalondang xylophone, sometimes played with the kucapi lute.

Unique to the Pakpak is the gerantung, an ensemble of four flat gongs played melodically by a single player and accompanied by a set of bossed gongs. Also notable is the botul, a horizontal rack of five to nine small knobbed gongs, to which cymbals and three suspended gongs are added to form an ensemble of the same name. This, North Sumatra’s only gong-chime ensemble, is found only where Pakpak territory borders on Karo or Toba areas. It is played to accompany self-defence dances. It is like the talempong gong-kettle ensemble, though its curious name has not been explained; Van der Tuuk, whose definition of garantung fits the modern Pakpak instrument and not the Toba, lists botul as the ‘true’ variety of gerantung (B1861, p.384).

3. Melayu.

Defining a Melayu (Malay) ethnic identity is not straightforward, since the various criteria that have been proposed sometimes conflict. Confessional and cultural criteria, according to which a Melayu is someone who professes Islam, speaks Malay and holds to Malay customs, are especially attractive to those close to the institutions of spiritual and temporal authority. Genealogical criteria are attractive to the common people, especially those of island Riau, some of whom do not even profess Islam. The historical use of Malay as a trade language throughout the archipelago and the spread of Islam made it relatively easy for people to identify as Melayu, in the cultural sense. The following examples illustrate two highly contrasting Melayu societies; the Petalangan of the Riau forests have a clear genealogical claim to Melayu descent, whereas the Melayu of the east coast of North Sumatra include descendants of several ethnic groups, and many of these musicians are Karo, Banjarese, Javanese, Sundanese or Minangkabau by genealogy.

(i) Petalangan.

This group of about 20,000 forest-dwelling swidden agriculturalists lives around the Kampar river in the interior of Riau and was once affiliated with the Melayu kingdom of Pelalawan. Their vocal music includes epic songs (nyanyi panjang) and songs used in the honey-gathering ceremony (menumbai sialang). Notable among their instruments are the sempelong (flute), gambang (xylophone), calempung (gong-chime), gondang (drums) and particularly the ketobung (shamanic drum).

The rim-blown bamboo sempelong flute is associated with love-magic. A sempelong especially equipped with magical attractive powers (sempelong pitunang) is made by boring each of the fingerholes after the death of a child. The sound produced by these holes represents the crying of the dead children, which is thought to waken the maternal instincts of the girl the player wants to bewitch. Even played without seductive intent, the sempelong was considered dangerous: men were forbidden to play it near cultivated rice-fields, since someone else’s wife might hear it and be tempted.

The gong-chime (calempung) and xylophone (gambang) share repertory. Each can be played by a single player or by two players in penyelalu-peningkah fashion. They may also be added to the silat ensemble, which features a pair of double-headed drums (gondang) playing interlocking rhythms also in the penyelalu-peningkah style.

Essential to the belian healing ritual is the double-headed ketobung drum. Unlike the paired drums of the silat ensemble, only one ketobung is used, played by two people: one sounds the penyelalu part on one head with bare hands, and the other produces the peningkah part on the other head with a cane beater. The ketobung, which symbolizes the human body as well as the ‘tree of life’, can be made only by specialists versed in esoteric knowledge and is used only in shamanic rituals. It accompanies the various stages of the shaman’s ascent to the invisible realm with specific rhythmic patterns (50 in all).

(ii) The Melayu of North Sumatra.

Those on the east coast have some genres similar to those of the Petalangan (for example the gambang xylophone played by one or two women), but their most distinctive tradition, shaped by the polyglot, multicultural history of the region, is that of the ronggeng, the professional female singer-dancer who dances on demand with men from the audience and exchanges sung verses with them.

Ronggeng songs are accompanied by an ensemble of violin and one or more frame drums; nowadays an accordion is also added, whereas the suspended gong, previously common, is becoming rare. The melodies can be categorized into four groups, based on the rhythmic pattern (rentak) that accompanies them; in order of increasing tempo, they are senandung, mak inang, lagu dua and patam-patam. Patam-patam is an instrumental form associated with self-defence movements, but the other genres all use pantun as song texts. These are the so-called original or authentic (asli) Melayu forms, but professional ronggeng must be prepared to sing whatever tunes the male guests request, so many of them can also sing Javanese, Sundanese, Toba, Karo and Indian songs in the original languages.

The ronggeng repertory is often described as indebted to European influence, possibly because of the presence of the violin, the diatonicism of many of the melodies, the use of Western tonality terminology by musicians and the current use of chordal accompaniments. It is clear, however, that Western musical concepts (for example, tonal analysis) are of limited value in understanding this repertory. Indeed, many musicians are as well-versed in the theory of maqām (known as hawa among the Melayu) as they are in the nomenclature of Western tonality.

Most songs can be divided into two parts, one or both of which are repeated; in senandung they are termed the ujung and the refrain or pecah (the term pecah or pecahan is more commonly used to refer to the lagu rentak, the fast-tempo dance tune that follows the senandung in a medley). Often, though not invariably, this bipartite melodic structure corresponds with that of the pantun: the sampiran is sung to the ujung, and the isi is sung to the pecah. Some songs also have a senter, a section the text of which lies outside the pantun structure. It may be an invariable refrain or a two-line pantun-like verse; in either case, the name of the song is usually worked into its text.

The contrast between symmetrical phrasing and motivic construction noted for Batak music is also present in Melayu music. All of the slow and moderate tempo songs are made up of fixed-length phrases, but some fast-tempo dances consist of a series of short motifs repeated ad lib. In one case, patam-patam, this may derive from Batak traditions (patam-patam is also the name of a repertory item in Karo music). However, other types such as the dance tune Pulosari do not draw on the Batak tradition in their musical style. Whereas today Pulosari is commonly played in a fixed arrangement by the composer Lily Suheiry, it was originally a sequence of eight to nine short motifs, each corresponding to a dance step, played in no set order and with each repeated and embellished as needed; only the opening and closing phrases were fixed.

The role of Western musical influence on the formation of the ronggeng repertory may be difficult to determine precisely, but its latter-day presence is well documented. The cosmopolitan plantation society of the east coast supported dance bands, and the Delische Kunstkring (founded 1912) brought Italian opera and the Budapest String Quartet to Medan. The Melayu rulers also supported Western music: the Sultan of Langkat had a palace orchestra boasting 20 violins, led by a Singapore-trained musician, while the band of the Sultan of Serdang (complete with trumpets, clarinets and bass drum) toured as far as Aceh. Melayu musicians entertained at Medan hotels, where they found Melayu melodies could be set to the beat of foxtrots, tangos and other popular dances.

The music most Indonesians commonly identify as Melayu is dangdut, which until the 1980s was associated chiefly with the urban lower classes. Dangdut groups are known as orkes Melayu, but Melayu musicians consider it a musical descendant of only one specific sub-type of Melayu music: calti, an Indian-influenced genre imported to Sumatra around the turn of the 20th century.

4. The islands of Nias and Mentawai.

(i) Nias.

In contrast to Batak societies, the most prestigious genres of ceremonial music in Nias are entirely vocal. Hoho, the most important of these, is performed at wedding feasts, funerals, war dances and other public occasions by a male chorus consisting of one or two song leaders (sondröro) and 4 to 24 chorus members. The sondröro (most of whom belong to the nobility) must have a broad knowledge of Nias customs and oral history, a gift for effective storytelling, and must be able creatively to rearrange traditional material and adapt new material appropriate to the performance circumstances. Hoho is sung in a significantly higher register than most other Nias vocal genres.

Notable among Nias instruments is the duri-dana, a bamboo tuning-fork. This idiophone-aerophone is 30–60 cm long and played in pairs, with one held in each hand; the long prongs of the forks are struck alternately against the bony part of the player’s knee. The pitches of the two instruments of a pair are separated by a semitone, tone or minor 3rd. Covering the fingerholes on each instrument lowers its pitch by a major 3rd, giving the player access to four pitches. The duri-dana is played for personal amusement, sometimes accompanied by the end-blown bamboo flute, zigu.

(ii) Mentawai.

Music here also relies relatively little on instruments. The tudukkat, a wooden clapperless bell, is kept in each clan house. It can be played for amusement but also functions as a signalling device, using a system of speech surrogacy in which each of its three tones represents certain vowels. Most musical activity, however, takes the form of songs (urai). These encompass dance songs (urai turuk), songs of longing (urai pagalangan) and songs of the sikerei ritual practitioners (urai kerei). The latter may only be sung within a ritual context. Some of these songs praise the sikerei spirit familiar; others are used to summon back the wandering spirit of a sick person, to placate animal spirits or for other curative purposes.

5. Minangkabau.

West Sumatra, the homeland of the Minangkabau people, is divided geographically and culturally into two regions, the pasisie (coastal plains) and the darek (highlands).

Traditional Minangkabau instrumental music includes several varieties of gong-kettle ensemble, ranging from the gandang aguang (which includes large hanging gongs and double-headed drums) to portable ensembles used for processions. Generically known as talempong, these ensembles fall into two types. In the talempong duduak the gong-kettles are arranged on a rack, where they can be played by a single seated musician (or two, in penyelalu-peningkah formation). This form, strongly associated with women, is now rare, but the hand-held talempong pacik is still commonly used for occasions such as weddings, circumcision ceremonies and randai dance-theatre performances. The kettles (usually six) are played by three or four musicians; players are limited to a repeated one- or two-note figure that they may vary, producing a bright, rhythmically-active figuration. There is also a third, modernized form of talempong: the choreographer Achiar Adam tuned it to the Western scale and gave it Melayu-style melodies to accompany his stage arrangements of traditional dances.

There are several forms of vocal music, including religious genres (such as salawat dulang) and narrative ones (kaba such as sijobang, dendang Pauah and rabab Pariaman; see Music of Indonesia, vi (F1994) and xii (F1996) for examples). Of special interest is the tradition of dendang songs accompanied by the rabab bowed lute or by various types of flute. In the highland areas the instrument most often used for this purpose is a five-tone rim-blown flute, the saluang darek, played with circular breathing (salisiah angok). There is no standard tuning; its five tones fit into an approximate 5th, more or less equally spaced. Recently, the state music academy in Padang Panjang has tried to tune saluang to the first five tones of the Western major scale.

Both men and women sing dendang, though not in chorus: it is almost entirely a solo art. Dendang do not have fixed lyrics; the singer is free to choose or invent pantun. The saluang follows the vocal line heterophonically, sometimes providing interludes while the singers pause. Dendang melodies associated with the highlands remain within the saluang five-tone range, but dendang of the coastal plains are heptatonic; when one of the latter ascends beyond the flute’s highest tone, the saluang sustains its highest pitch. Dendang can be categorized by the tonal focus of their melodies, but probably the most culturally salient associations of the tunes are geographic and affective. Dendang, even those known throughout West Sumatra, are linked to specific localities; indeed, many of their titles are simply place-names. More generally, the tunes are classified by their emotional content into free-metre ‘sad’ tunes (often called ratok, laments) and fixed-metre ‘cheerful’ ones.

An evening’s entertainment, consisting of dendang sung by a singer and accompanied by musicians specially engaged for the purpose (or playing as street musicians) is called bagurau (a general term covering all performances or gatherings for pleasure). Bagurau can be held for various traditional ceremonies but also for fund-raising, and in some public places one finds informal bagurau sessions with singers and musicians playing for tips. Audience members are often involved in these sessions as the object of singers’ flirtatious lyrics, but they can also play a more active role by passing notes to the singers and asking for certain messages (directed at other audience members) to be incorporated in their pantun.

6. Aceh.

The three major ethnic groups are the Acehnese of the coastal lowlands and the Gayo and Alas of the central mountains; the languages of the latter two groups are related to that of the Karo.

(i) Acehnese.

The arts of the lowland dwellers include the now-rare geurimpheng, performed by a row of seated men who sing and play rapai frame drums, with choreographed movements of the arms and upper torso. The biola Aceh genre is a quasi-theatrical amusement featuring a solo violin, sometimes accompanied by rapai. Two singer-dancers act out humorous skits of family life and sing love songs; the violin player (the director) may also sing.

The best-known Acehnese art, however, is the men’s dance seudati and its related female form, seudati inong or laweut. Seudati is performed by eight men, accompanied by their own singing and that of two or more aneuk syahi (singers). There is no instrumental accompaniment, but the dancers produce their own rhythms by snapping their fingers and slapping their chests just below the ribcage. In recent decades, the dancers have worn long-sleeved undershirts to lend a crisp, loud attack to the body-slaps.

Seudati is usually performed as a competition between two groups (seudati tunang). The groups are judged on precision of ensemble, volume of hand-slaps and on the wit of their ripostes. The lyrics for seudati are said to have originally been religious, though some of the words have become so garbled as to be incomprehensible. Romantic poetry is mixed with topical references to local grandees or to the host for the evening; the New Order government also encouraged seudati singers to promote government programmes such as family planning.

A complete seudati performance has seven sections. The first two, the saleum and saleum rakan, are greetings, performed by each of the competing groups in turn. The core of the performance is the subsequent sequence of five sections (bak saman, saman, kisah, syahi panyang and lanië) performed by one of the groups, then answered by a similar sequence from its rival. The lanië closing section is accompanied by folksongs, or even by popular songs; the dancers may mime to the words of the song.

The last three verses of each section are performed double-tempo, as a signal for the ending. Each section stops suddenly as the dancers freeze in tableaux; there is then a brief pause before the dance continues.

(ii) Gayo.

Inhabiting the highlands of central and south-eastern Aceh, the Gayo can be divided into two cultural and linguistic sub-groups, the Gayo Lut of the Lake Tawar region and the Gayo Lues (their neighbours 160 kilometres to the south). The performing arts of these two groups are represented here by the discussion of didong and saman, respectively.

Didong is a contest of solo and choral song, performed by two all-male (sometimes all-female) groups who accompany themselves with handclaps and percussive slaps on small square cushions. Before the 1940s traditional melodies were used to present texts elaborating Gayo cultural values or riddles referring to Gayo customs. After the Indonesian Revolution, however, new themes emerged (e.g. narratives of personal experience or historical events, patriotic or romantic poems), and individualized melodies were composed to fit the more complex prosody of these texts. The competitive element of didong, previously expressed as rivalry between villages, was then generalized to the larger political competition between Bukit and Cik, the two precolonial domains of Gayo Lut.

Saman is a competitive performance by 15 or more men kneeling in a tightly-packed row, which combines song, hand gestures and head and torso movements. There is no instrumental accompaniment: the rhythms are emphasized by handclaps, fingersnaps and handslaps on the thighs and chest.

The history of saman is obscure, but its sung repetitions of the name of Allah suggest an origin in the ratib, a group form of zikir (the chanting of the names of God, the Confession of Faith or praises to the Prophet). As performed by Sufi mystical brotherhoods for hours or even days on end and accompanied by nodding movements of the head, ratib could induce ecstatic states. In 19th-century Aceh a boisterous ratib Samman was practised (possibly related to the form known by the same name in early 18th-century Medina); the modern saman may have developed as a semi-secular version of this ratib. In pre-colonial Gayoland, saman songs concentrated on Islamic themes, and its performers were often seekers of magical power. After the Dutch conquest in 1904, saman, seen as preparation for Holy War, was discouraged. It was eventually revived as an entertainment performed by the young, with the religious texts replaced by romantic verses.

There are three elements in a saman performance: lagu (hand gestures), jangin (song) and body movement. Of the three, lagu are central. Each village has its own repertory of traditional, named gestures (over 130 of them have been documented), and more are being created. The basic gesture (lagu selalu) places the right hand on the left thigh, shifting it to the right thigh and back again, then striking the chest three times. Every group develops its own lagu geriyet (virtuoso gestures) in their ongoing efforts to confound their competitors.

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T. Naiborhu: Odong-odong sebagai musik vokal Pakpak di desa Kecupak Kecamatan Salak-Dairi [Odong-odong: Pakpak vocal music from Kecupak village in the subdistrict of Salak-Dairi] (thesis, U. of North Sumatra, 1988)

R. Rumiyanti: Studi deskriptif pemakaian alat musik surdam bagi guru dalam pengobatan tradisional Karo [Descriptive study of the use of the musical instrument surdamby healers in traditional Karo medicine] (thesis, U. of North Sumatra, 1988)

E. Simangunsong: Fungsi musik gondang sabangunan dalam upacara ritual parmalim sipaha sada di desa Lumban Gambiri Kecamatan Silaen [The musical function of gondang sabangunan in the parmalim sipaha sada ritual ceremony of Lumban Gambiri village, Silaen] (thesis, U. of North Sumatra, 1988)

S. Siregar: Studi deskriptif organologis alat music gondang bulu pada masyarakat Mandailing [A descriptive organological study of the gondang bulu in Mandailing society] (thesis, U. of North Sumatra, 1988)

R. Carle: Die Opera Batak (Berlin, 1990)

N.R. Gultom: Suatu studi deskriptif dan musikologis upacara gondang saem di desa Paraduan [A descriptive and musicological study of the gondang saem ceremony in Paraduan village] (thesis, U. of North Sumatra, 1990)

Irwansyah: Analisis komparatif bentuk (penggarapan) dan teknik permainan dari sebuah gondang (komposisi lagu) yang disajikan oleh Tujuh Partaganing [Comparative analysis of the form (penggarapan) and performance technique of a gondang (melodic composition) performed by seven taganing players] (thesis, U. of North Sumatra, 1990)

Parlindungan: Studi tekstual onang-onang dalam upacara adat mangongkal holi pada masyarakat Batak Angkola di desa Arse Julu Kecamatan Sipirok [A textual study of onang-onang in the traditional ceremony mangongkal holi of the Angkola Batak community of Arse Julu village, Sipirok] (thesis, U. of North Sumatra, 1990)

R. Siagian: ‘Gordang sambilan: ensambel musik adat orang Mandailing di Tapanuli Selatan’ [Gordang sambilan: traditional ensemble music of the Mandailing people of south Tapanuli], Seni Pertunjukan Indonesia, i (1990), 76–95

J. Silaen: Studi konteks dan analisa morphologis andung di desa Lumban Tambak Kecamatan Silaen [Contextual study and morphological analysis of andung in Lumban Tambak village, Silaen] (thesis, U. of North Sumatra, 1990)

M. Purba: ‘Mangido gondang di dalam penyajian musik gondang sabangunan pada masyarakat Batak Toba’ [Mangido gondang in the performance of gondang sabangunan in Toba Batak society], Seni Pertunjukan Indonesia, ii (1991), 134–63

B.M. Pasaribu: ‘Taganing Batak Toba: suatu analisis struktural dan stratifikasi sosial’ [Taganingof the Toba Batak: an analysis of structure and social stratification], Seni Pertunjukan Indonesia, iii (1992), 1–20

A. Simon: ‘Gondang, Gods, and Ancestors: Religious Implications of Batak Ceremonial Music’, YTM, xxv (1993), 81–8

J. Bangun: Perilaku sosial dan gaya penyajian repertoar guro-guro aron pada masyarakat Karo: studi kasus analisis komparatif musikologis gendang patam-patam oleh tiga instrumen pembawa melodi [Social behaviour and performance style of the guro-guro aron of Karo society: an analytical, comparative and musicological case study of gendang patam-patam by three melody-carrying instruments] (thesis, U. of North Sumatra, 1994)

U. Kozok: Die Klageliedtradition der Batak Nordsumatras (diss., U. of Hamburg, 1994)

Y. Okazaki: Music Identity and Religious Change among the Toba Batak People of North Sumatra (diss., UCLA, 1994)

R.O. Hutajulu: ‘Tourism’s Impact on Toba Batak Ceremony’, Bijdragen tot de taal-, land-, en volkenkunde, cli (1995), 639–55

S.D. Purba: ‘Penggunaan, fungsi dan perkembangan nyanyian rakyat Simalungun bagi masyarakat pendukungnya’ [The use, function and development of Simalungun folksong for its culture bearers] Laporan pelaksanaan temu ilmiah dan Festival MSPI 94 tanggal 1–3 Desember 1994 di Maumere, Flores (Surakarta, 1995), 144–69

c: melayu

D. Goldsworthy: ‘Honey-Collecting Ceremonies on the East Coast of North Sumatra’, Studies in Indonesian Music, ed. M. Kartomi (Clayton, Victoria, 1978), 1–44

D. Goldsworthy: Melayu Music of North Sumatra: Continuities and Change (diss., Monash U., 1979)

D. Goldsworthy: ‘The Dancing Fish Trap (lukah menari): a Spirit-Invocation Song and a Spirit-Possession “Dance” from North Sumatra’, Musicology Australia, ix (1986), 12–28

Fadlin: Studi deskriptif konstruksi dan dasar-dasar pola ritem gendang Melayu Sumatera Timur [A descriptive study of the construction and principles of rhythmic patterning in gendang Melayu of East Sumatra] (thesis, U. of North Sumatra, 1988)

V. Wee: ‘Material Dependence and Symbolic Independence: Constructions of Melayu Ethnicity in Island Riau, Indonesia’, Ethnic Diversity and the Control of Natural Resources in Southeast Asia, ed. T.A. Rambo, K. Gillogly and K.L. Hutterer (Ann Arbor, 1988), 197–226

M. Takari: Kesenian hadrah pada kebudayaan etnis Melayu Deli Serdang dan Asahan: studi deskriptif musikal [The art of hadrah in the ethnic Melayu cultures Deli Serdang and Asahan: a descriptive musical study] (thesis, U. of North Sumatra, 1990)

A. Turner: ‘Belian as a Symbol of Cosmic Reunification’, Metaphor: a Musical Dimension, ed. J.C. Kassler (Sydney, 1991), 121–46

M.A.M. Nor: Zapin: Folk Dance of the Malay World (Singapore, 1993)

A. Turner: ‘Ekologi kebudayaan musik masyarakat Melayu “Petalangan” di Riau’ [Musical cultural ecology of the Melayn Petalangan community of Riau], Seni Pertunjukan Indonesia, iv (1993), 158–84

d: minangkabau

M. Kartomi: ‘Tiger-Capturing Music in Minangkabau, West Sumatra’, Sumatra Research Bulletin, ii/1 (1972), 24–41

M. Kartomi: ‘Minangkabau Musical Culture: the Contemporary Scene and Recent Attempts at its Modernization’, What is Modern Indonesian Culture?, ed. G. Davis (Madison, Wi, 1979), 19–36

M. Kartomi: ‘Randai Theatre in West Sumatra’, Review of Indonesian and Malaysian Affairs, xv/1 (1981), 1–44

N. Phillips: Sijobang: Sung Narrative Poetry of West Sumatra (Cambridge, 1981)

M. Kartomi: ‘Muslim Music in West Sumatran Culture’, World of Music, xxviii/3 (1986), 13–32

M. Kartomi: ‘Tabut, a Shia Ritual Transplanted from India to Sumatra’, Nineteenth and Twentieth Century Indonesia, ed. D.P. Chandler and M.C. Ricklefs (Monash, 1986), 141–62

M.A.M. Nor: Randai Dance of Minangkabau Sumatra with Labanotation Scores (Kuala Lumpur, 1986)

M. Martamin: Laporan penelitian dendang Minangkabau (suatu analisis dari segi karakter musiknya) [A report of research on Minangkabau dendang] (Padang Panjang, 1988)

Hajizar: Studi tekstual dan musikologis kesenian tradisional Minangkabau sijobang: kaba anggun nan tungga magek jabang [Textual and musicological study of the traditional Minangkabau art, sijobang] (thesis, U. of North Sumatra, 1989)

Wimbrayardi: Analisis ritem musik adok pengiring tari Tan Bentan [A rhythmical analysis of adok music accompanying the dance of Tan Bentan] (thesis, U. of North Sumatra, 1989)

B.A. Adam: ‘Talempong: musik tradisi Minangkabau’ [Talempong: traditional Minangkabau musik], Seni Pertunjukan Indonesia, i (1990), 53–75

G. Yunus: Studi deskriptif gaya penyajian dendang singgalang dalam tradisi pertunjukan saluang dendang di Luhak nan Tigo Minangkabau Sumatera Barat [Descriptive study of the style of performing dendang singgalang in the traditional performance saluang dendang of Luhak nan Tigo, Minangkabau, West Sumatra] (thesis, U. of North Sumatra, 1990)

M.I. Ilyas: Hoerijah Adam: barabah yang terbang tak kembali (Padang, 1991)

M. Kartomi: ‘Dabuih in West Sumatra: a Synthesis of Muslim and Pre-Muslim Ceremony and Musical Style’, Archipel, no. 41 (1991), 33–52

G. Yunus: ‘Status seni pertunjukan tradisional dalam pandangan masyarakat Minangkabau’ [The status of traditional performing arts in Minangkabau society], Seni Pertunjukan Indonesia, iii (1992), 21–40

Suryadi, ed.: Dendang pauah: cerita orang Lubuk Sikaping (Jakarta, 1993)

e: nias, mentawai and aceh

C. Snouck Hurgronje: The Achehnese (Leiden, 1906)

J. Kunst: Music in Nias (Leiden, 1939)

R. Schefold: ‘Schlitztrommeln und Trommelsprache in Mentawai’, Zeitschrift für Ethnologie, xcviii (1973), 36–72

M.J. Melalatoa: Didong: kesenian tradisional Gayo [Didong: a traditional Gayo art] (Jakarta, 1982)

A. Turner: Duri-dana Music and Hoho Songs in South Nias (thesis, Monash U., 1982)

Ensiklopedia musik dan tari daerah Propinsi Daerah Istimewa Aceh [Encyclopedia of the music and dance of the Special Region of Aceh] (Banda Aceh, 1986–7)

M. Patton: Traditional Music in South Nias, Indonesia with Emphasis upon Hoho: Voices of the Ancestors (thesis, U. of Hawaii, 1987)

J.R. Bowen: Sumatran Politics and Poetics: Gayo History, 1900–1989 (New Haven, CT, 1991)

Hanefi: Studi deskriptif dan musikologis urai kerei dalam upacara pabettei di Madobag, P[ulau] Siberut, Mentawai [Descriptive and musicological study of urai kerei in the pabettei ceremony of Madobag, Siberut island, Mentawei] (thesis, U. of North Sumatra, 1992)

M. Kartomi: ‘Experience-Near and Experience-Distant Perceptions of the Dabōih Ritual in Aceh, Sumatra’, Von der vielfalt musikalischer Kultur: Festschrift für Josef Kuckertz zur Vollendung des 60. Lebensjahres (Salzburg, 1992), 247–60

Hanefi: ‘Urai kerei di pulau Siberut Mentawai’ [Urai kerei of Siberut island, Mentawei], Seni Pertunjukan Indonesia, iv (1993), 139–57

f: recordings

Batak Music, coll. P. Pedersen and T.P. Siagian, Folkways F-4357 (1976)

The Mandailing People of Sumatra, coll. M. Kartomi, Bärenreiter Musicaphon BM 30 SL2567 (1983)

The Angkola People of Sumatra, coll. M. Kartomi, Bärenreiter Musicaphon BM 30 SL2568 (1983)

Gondang Toba: Instrumentalmusik der Toba-Batak, coll. A. Simon, Museum Collection Berlin MC 12 (1984)

Gendang Karo, coll. A. Simon, Museum Collection Berlin MC 13 (1987)

Batak of North Sumatra, New Albion Records NA 046 CD (1992)

Music of Indonesia, coll. P. Yampolsky, iv:Music of Nias and North Sumatra, Smithsonian Folkways SF-40420 (1992); vi: Night Music of West Sumatra, Smithsonian Folkways SF-40422 (1994); vii: Music from the Forests of Riau and Mentawai, Smithsonian Folkways SF-40423 (1995); xi: Melayu Music of Sumatra and the Riau Islands, Smithsonian Folkways SF-40427 (1996); xii: Gongs and Vocal Music from Sumatra, Smithsonian Folkways SF-40428 (1996)

Nias: Epic Songs and Instrumental Music, coll. E. Heins, PAN Records 2014CD (1995)

Sumatra: musiques des Batak, Inedit W260061 (1995)

3. Nusa Tenggara Timur (the Eastern Lesser Sundas).

VII. Outer islands

1. Kalimantan.

2. Maluku.

4. Sulawesi.

1. Kalimantan.

(ii) Instruments and instrumental music.

(iii) Vocal performance.

(iv) New directions.

(i) Introduction.

The four Indonesian provinces of East-, West-, South-Brunei surrounded by Sarawak and the South China Sea on the northern coast. While sparsely populated at just over 8 million, the 535,000 square kilometres of Indonesian Borneo are home to hundreds of ethnic groups with distinct languages, customs and traditions. The coastal areas and lowland plains are populated largely by Malay-speaking Muslims of local descent. Some of the larger Malay groups include the Samba in the west, Banjar in the south and Kutai and Bulungan in the eastern regions. A significant Madurese population is present in coastal West Kalimantan, while Buginese from Sulawesi have long been established along the island’s eastern shores. Substantial Chinese communities exist in virtually every major city, and the Indonesian government’s recent transmigration programmes have also brought many Javanese families.

The interior regions of the island are inhabited by numerous groups, usually collectively designated as ‘Dayak’ by coastal dwellers of Kalimantan, Indonesians from other islands and the Indonesian government itself. Among the most prominent of these groups are the Mualang (who are sometimes considered a sub-division of the Iban people) and the Kantu’ of West Kalimantan; the Ngaju, Ot Danum, and Ma'anyan of Central Kalimantan; and the Kayan, Kenyah, Modang, Punan and Kerayan of the eastern province. South Kalimantan is largely Malay. Among the non-Chinese coastal populations, Islam is the dominant religion. Chinese communities usually adhere to Christianity or Buddhism. Many of the peoples living in or originating from the island’s interior are Christian, although some groups maintain religious practices that are unique to, and rooted historically in, their own communities.

The extraordinary linguistic and cultural diversity of Kalimantan allows only the broadest of generalizations when discussing a single topic such as music. Further complicating matters is the fundamental lack of documentation, both contemporary and historical, of musical practices in this region. Many early writers, moreover, were apparently unaware of the significance of ethnic differences, and in detailed descriptions of musical activities there are often no references to specific ethnic groups. Further, the musical situation has certainly changed since the 1970s, not to mention the 19th century; consequently, many residents of Kalimantan may not even have heard of the instruments or vocal forms once attributed to their people. The musical profile presented here, then, is necessarily largely historical.

(ii) Instruments and instrumental music.

Idiophones are among the most plentiful and varied of the instruments of Kalimantan. Individual bamboo percussion tubes appear to be more characteristic of non-Malay peoples of the interior regions (e.g. Kayan, Kenyah), where they have been linked to specific phases of the rice cycle. A number of Kalimantan groups have maintained xylophone traditions. Coastal Malays played a wooden gambang without accompaniment, sometimes to accompany singing. Some peoples of the interior kept suspended log xylophones in their rice fields, primarily for signalling and warding off pests. Over the past few decades, Kenyah communities of East Kalimantan have developed a small, portable xylophone (jatung utang) for use as dance accompaniment. Idioglot jew’s harps (e.g. Kayan tong, Kenyah uding, Iban ruding sulu) have been documented in most parts of the island; those without a string (for plucking) enjoyed a wider distribution. Most jew’s harps are made of bamboo or palm-wood, although some peoples of West Kalimantan, such as the Mualang, used heteroglot metal varieties. Playing the jew’s harp has been a women’s activity among some interior groups; especially when played by both men and women, the jew’s harp has often been associated with courtship.

Various types of gongs are found throughout the coastal and upland areas of all four Kalimantan provinces. Malay coastal communities, as well as some of the non-Malay peoples of the inland regions, have used gong-chime ensembles to accompany ritual and recreational dance, agricultural festivities, shamanic activities and theatrical performances. The gemurung ensemble of the Kantu’ of West Kalimantan features a single row of gongs, which resembles the kulintang of the southern Philippines. Similar traditions include the kangkanung ensemble of the Ngaju of Central Kalimantan and the Tunjung klentangan of the eastern province. Gamelan ensembles similar to those found in Java – and usually imported from that island – are present in most of the larger coastal cities. The more elaborate ensembles were usually owned and maintained by the former sultanates (e.g. Kutai, Berau). In South Kalimantan, the Banjar Malays have performed Javanese-influenced shadow-puppet plays with gamelan accompaniment.

Gong-chimes have not been common among the groups living in the most mountainous areas of Kalimantan. Moreover, gongs and the structure of gong music have not held as central a position in these communities as they have among coastal peoples and the populations of the islands of Java and Bali to the west. In the highlands, the striking of hanging gongs in ensemble has usually been restricted to specific ritual circumstances. Purely recreational music has not typically involved gongs or been based on the same structural principles. Unlike the gamelan orchestras of the Malays, highland gongs have not usually been tuned to specific pitches. When combining instruments in ensemble, pitch contrast has been of primary sonic importance. Kin-relations have also been significant in determining which instruments will be played together, since the instruments have normally been collected from several households. The overall size and composition of a group of instruments in the upland stratified societies has typically depended on the social status of the individual for whom the ritual was to be held. Gongs themselves, whether used as sound instruments, stools, pedestals for dance, ritual paraphernalia, payment or decoration, served as symbols of rank and status in many of these communities.

In contrast to the idiophones, the membranophones of Kalimantan exhibit comparatively little structural variety. The predominant means of securing and tightening the skins of the drums, regardless of body shape, is through cord and belt lacing with wedge bracing. Large, single-headed conical drums have been documented primarily among the Modang (tewung), Kenyah (jatung) and Kayan (tuvung), of the interior of East Kalimantan. A principal function of such drums has been to signal village emergencies, death or meetings, with different rhythms indicating the particular circumstances. Drums have also been used for certain rituals and ritual dances, sometimes sounded together with hanging gongs or other idiophones. While the Tunjung and Benuaq of the eastern interior have employed double-headed drums in their gong ensembles, such drums have tended to be more common in the coastal regions. Among the Malay groups, these have usually been part of the gamelan orchestra. Double-headed drums have also figured prominently in the mixed ensembles accompanying various Malay folkdances known as jepen. Most drums are played by men, but some of the goblet-shaped drums of the western and north-western regions have been played by women in shamanic activities, often accompanied by drums of various types. Frame drums have been played alone and in ensemble to accompany song and Muslim recitation among the Malay populations.

Tube zithers, spike lutes and necked box lutes appear to be the most common chordophones. The Kenyah, Kayan and Punan of the interior highlands have been known for their plucked tube zithers with three to six strings. Generally associated with women in these communities, the tube zither has been played alone or in ensemble for entertainment or to accompany dance. Some of the Iban-related groups of West Kalimantan have also used tube zithers, which were usually played by women. Coastal Malays make little use of plucked tube zithers. Bowed spike lutes, on the other hand, have been quite prevalent in these societies. Two-string models have been played together with a zither as dance music in some of the Malay communities. Similarly, two-string instruments have been played by some of the Iban peoples of the western region, but one-string versions have also been popular, as has been the case among most other non-Malay groups of the lower-lying areas.

The plucked box lute, usually with a short neck, is associated with many of the non-Malay, inland peoples of Kalimantan. With some exceptions, most of these instruments are known as sapé' or a closely related linguistic cognate. Older varieties of these lutes had two strings, but three or four are now preferred by many players. The frets, typically placed under one string only, have changed from fixed to movable in Kenyah and Kayan communities, and have increased in number from three to 16 on some more recent models. The sapé' has been strongly bound to recreational dancing in most communities, but older two-string lutes were also closely associated with shamanic activity. Men have been the sole performers of the instrument in some societies, but women have been prominent players in others. Coastal Malays do not use the sapé'. However, the Gambus, a bowl lute of Middle Eastern origin, has been played with gongs and drums for dancing in some Muslim areas.

Perhaps on account of its organological uniqueness, the gourd-and-bamboo mouth organ (Kayan Keledi, keredi; Kenyah kediré') has received the most attention of all aerophones in Kalimantan. Whereas other forms of reed instruments are relatively rare, mouth organs have historically been prominent among a number of peoples of the mountainous interior, including the Kenyah, Kayan and Punan. Iban-related groups the north-western area and similar groups living inland in the northern part of East Kalimantan have also cultivated mouth organ traditions. The instrument has been used variously to accompany ritual and recreational dance, to accompany singing, aid in courtship and provide personal entertainment. Its players have usually been men. Coastal Malay populations do not appear to have used mouth organs, but a single-reed instrument played in ensemble with a gong has been reported in South Kalimantan.

End-blown flutes are scattered widely throughout the island. Both internal and external ducts are common. Nose flutes have been encountered among many of the inland groups, but this instrument is evidently foreign to most coastal populations. The sound of a flute has often been associated with mourning, especially among peoples of the interior. In some communities, the death lament was said to have been performed on the flute, its sounds imitating the quality and words of the human voice. Side-blown flutes have not been common in Kalimantan until relatively recently. Among the Kenyah of East Kalimantan these instruments were said to have been introduced for use in Christian church services.

Of the instruments and ensembles that are tuned, various types of pentatonic scale (with and without semitones) have predominated. Some traditions have employed different pentatonic units (or suggestions thereof) in adjacent registers on a single instrument: many Kayan and Kenyah plucked lute (Kayan: sapé') melodies, for instance, employ semitones in the lower registers but use an anhemitonic tuning in the upper registers. There has also been a tendency among these groups and others in the highland regions towards homogenous ensembles of melodic instruments; formerly it would have been unlikely that a reed instrument (e.g. a mouth organ) would be combined in an ensemble with a lute and a xylophone. Non-melodic or non-tuned instruments, however, have often been used in heterogeneous ensembles (e.g. gongs with drums). Until recently, vocal and instrumental musics have been mutually exclusive among some interior groups. A cappella singing, particularly with soloist and chorus alternating in responsorial style, has been common especially in non-Malay communities. In contrast to the situation in many of the inland societies, heterogeneous ensembles including both melodic and non-melodic instruments have been an ongoing part of coastal Malay music, accompanying the performance of pantun verses and other vocal forms.

(iii) Vocal performance.

Compared to the instrumental repertory in some areas, the vocal repertory is both more diverse and certainly more abundant. Specific songs have been integral components of rituals connected with agriculture, headhunting or warfare, shamanic or other religious activity and death. There has also been a large repertory intended primarily for entertainment, including songs for courtship, work and drinking rice wine, as well as songs to accompany recreational dancing. Long narrative pieces, some taking several nights to perform in their entirety, are deeply rooted in the musical traditions of many communities. Some of these have ritual associations, whereas others are essentially recreational. Their subjects range from genealogical accounts to war stories (of both the human and spirit worlds) and the journey of the departed soul to the land of the dead.

Among the most salient vocal forms in the Malay areas have been pantun singing, forms associated with the wayang kulit (shadow play), Qur’anic recitations and a great array of songs performed in the context of jepen folkdance. Women have been the foremost performers of jepen songs in some Malay societies, often accompanying themselves on frame drums while men dance before them. Although some songs may be performed by either men or women, many songs of the interior groups have often been quite strongly gender-specific, rendering it inappropriate in most circumstances for men to perform repertory that has been specifically associated with women and vice versa. In some Iban societies of lower-lying areas, as well as the highlands settled by the Kenyah, both men and women are expected to perform the death lament (Iban sabak; Kenyah tidau), although women are the preferred vocalists. While in this case men sing a piece that is associated with women, the opposite case has rarely been evident.

In coastal Malay areas as well as the non-Malay inlands, singing has also been integral to the activities of the ritual healer or shaman. Indeed, the terms for ‘shaman’ and ‘singing’ appear to be etymologically related both within and between many languages of Kalimantan. Some groups of the central regions, such as the Kenyah, have maintained that the language of song (ipet) is itself of spiritual origin. As such, ipet is quite distinct from ordinary speech and is rarely wholly intelligible to audiences. Kenyah song, whether recreational or ritual, usually contains a great density of archaic terms, words that are more common in other Borneo dialects or languages, linguistically meaningless words and syllables, and morphologically altered lexical items. Furthermore, the language of song or spirits is usually rich in often obscure metaphors. This is not only the case among the Kenyah but also among many other societies of Kalimantan; interpretation or translation of vocal performances is highly problematic.

(iv) New directions.

Many changes have taken place since much of the literature on musical traditions of Kalimantan was produced. National initiatives to promote regional arts have sometimes led to new syntheses of music and movement. Heterogeneous combinations of Western instruments, or sometimes Western and local instruments, have in some societies replaced the older homogeneous dance ensembles. Tunings have also been adjusted in many cases to correspond more closely to the Western diatonic scale. Because the language of song is so intimately entwined with indigenous belief systems, religious conversion has rendered performance of some repertory inappropriate. Schooling, too, has not only redirected young peoples’ interests and values, but the necessity of boarding has often also physically removed them from the musical environments of their home communities. Especially in rural areas, children are no longer exposed to the musics of their parents and grandparents to the same degree, and the conduit of oral tradition has been ruptured. Nevertheless, as any staged or unstaged cultural performance reveals, changes in values, beliefs and environments inevitably elicit creative responses.

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Ensiklopedi musik dan tari daerah Kalimantan Tengah [Encyclopedia of the regional music and dance of Central Kalimantan] (Jakarta, 1986) [pubn of Proyek Penelitian dan Pencatatan Kebudayaan Daerah 1977/1978]

Ensiklopedi musik dan tari daerah Kalimantan Selatan [Encyclopedia of the regional music and dance of South Kalimantan] (Banjarmasin, 1986) [pubn of Proyek Penelitian dan Pencatatan Kebudayaan Daerah 1978/1979]

V.K. Gorlinski: ‘Some Insights into the Art of Sapé' Playing’, Sarawak Museum Journal, xxxix (1988), 77–104

V.K. Gorlinski: ‘Pangpagaq: Religious and Social Significance of a Traditional Kenyah Music-Dance Form’, Sarawak Museum Journal, xl/61 (1989), 279–301 [special issue]

V.K. Gorlinski: The Sampéq of East Kalimantan, Indonesia: a Case Study of the Recreational Music Tradition (thesis, U. of Hawaii, Manoa, 1989)

B.J.L. Sellato: Hornbill and Dragon: Kalimantan, Sarawak, Sabah, Brunei (Jakarta, 1989)

G.N. Appell: ‘Guide to the Varieties of Oral Literature in Borneo’, Borneo Research Bulletin, xxii (1990), 98–113

The JVC Video Anthology of World Music and Dance: Southeast Asia, videotape, ed. F. Tomoaki (Tokyo, 1990) [incl. booklet]

V.K. Gorlinski: ‘Gongs among the Kenyah Uma' Jalan: Past and Present Position of an Instrumental Tradition’, YTM, xxvi (1994), 81–99

The Kenyah of Kalimantan (Indonesia), coll. V.K. Gorlinski, Cantate/Musicaphon M52576 (1995)

Music of Indonesia, xiii: Kalimantan Strings, coll. P. Yampolsky, Smithsonian Folkways SF 40429 (1998); xvii: Kalimantan: Dayak Ritual and Festival Music, SFW 40444 (1998)

For further bibliography see Brunei; and Malaysia, §§II– III.

2. Maluku.

Many musical forms in the province of Maluku (the Moluccas) can be linked to Christian and Muslim rites as well as spiritual practices that predate the arrival of Islam in the 15th century and Christianity in the 16th. Sacred and secular music and dance of the Muslim north contrast with church and secular music of the mainly Christian central and south-east regions (see fig.19). The ancestral rituals of the Alifuru people living on the ‘mother island’, Seram, are widely believed to represent the original Maluku cultural forms. Ensembles comprising totobuang (bronze gong-chimes) and single-headed varieties of tifa or tipa (drums) of many shapes and sizes are found all over Maluku (fig.20). In Muslim communities, frame drums (rebana, rabana) and small two-headed drums (marwas) often supplement the tifa. Indigenous flutes, multiple-reed aerophones, jew's harps and bowed and plucked string instruments as well as instruments of European and Middle Eastern origin are widely distributed. More than three centuries of Protestant Dutch rule resulted in extensive musical change. Current artistic initiatives are mainly led by the New Order government and involve the adaptation of traditional art forms. Malukan folksongs and international popular songs are broadcast in the media and performed at celebrations.

(i) Central Maluku (Kabupaten Maluku Tengah).

On Seram Island the Alifuru people still practise rituals based on the traditional beliefs of the Patasiwa and Patalima social and kinship groups, which contrast with those of the coastal Christian and Muslim villagers. Kahua, the main ritual feast of the Huaulu of northern Seram, is traditionally associated with head-hunting practices. In western Seram, the Hitam sub-group of the Patasiwa perform mixed-gender night dances (maro), and during the day men perform vigorous cakalele dances in battle dress. Choral sewa are performed by the people and soso healing rituals by shamans. On the island of Buru Alifuru men play tifa, but both men and women perform night-time lego and asoi responsorial songs. The totobuang kawat (bamboo zither) and viol (bowed viola-like instruments) with two (Tidore island) or three (Ternate island) strings are also widely played. The main traditional ceremony on Banda island involves cakalele dancing. In some parts of central Maluku, musicians play double-row gong-chimes (totobuang) and xylophones (tatabuhan kayu), usually with tifa, rebana and gong, and sing pantun (two-couplet quatrains) in work contexts and at night-time celebrations. A performance of the autochthonous magic bamboo dance (bambu gila), described by van Hoëvell in 1875, was recorded in the Muslim village of Hitu on Ambon Island by Kartomi in 1991. Local officials promote modernized performances of this dance, which features male dancers entering a state of trance as they bounce poles up and down to tifa accompaniment (fig.21). European-influenced central Malukan folkdances are still performed by elderly couples and Ambonese children, including the quadrille-inspired katreji dances developed in the Dutch military camps. Christian vocal music includes psalm- (mazmur) and hymn-singing (tahlil) with the accompaniment of bamboo flutes and double-tube bamboo wind instruments (gumbang). Orchestras of locally made side-blown flutes (fig.22) play church music. European music adopted in central Maluku from the 17th century influenced the development of the repertory of indigenous Malukan folksongs that are performed throughout modern Indonesia. Ambonese folksongs (lagu Ambon or lagu Maluku) are accompanied by a kroncong (small guitar) and other plucked string instruments or by a Hawaiian-style band of banjos, ukeleles, guitars (acoustic and/or electric), Hawaiian guitar and drum kit. The Ambonese kroncong has now been supplemented or replaced by guitars, mandolins, ukuleles, banjos, violin or flute and tifa.

(ii) South-east Maluku (Kabupaten Maluku Tenggara).

Inhabitants of the Kai archipelago (Kepulauan Kai) in south-east Maluku are of Malay descent, whereas those of the Aru archipelago (east of Kai) are predominantly Melanesian. The Kai performing arts are maintained in Catholic church services through the singing of Christian texts in a traditional style and the inclusion of suling bambu ensembles, usually comprised of two gongs, tifa and a bamboo flute (sawarngil). There are 52 known types of dance in Kai, including the tiwa nam, a fan dance performed by adolescent girls. Unaccompanied refrain singing serves as the basis of the songs (sekar). Muslim music consists of devotional singing (zamrah or hadrat) and social dance (tari sawat). In the Aru island network, most villages have developed their own repertory of songs (didi). Dalair dances are accompanied by tifa (titir), gong (daldala), jew's harp (berimbak) and conch-shell (tapur). In the Tanimbar archipelago, ancestral ceremonies (tnabar) have been combined with Catholic and Protestant practices. In the sub-regions of southern Tanimbar the two ethnic groups Suku Yaru and Suku Timur Lau practise two sets of alliance customs with similar songs and dances. In the early 20th century the church fathers forbade ceremonial dance and music, and much of the repertory has been lost. However, the church now allows villagers to celebrate harvests by dancing and singing around ritual objects and performing Christianized versions of traditional music. Whole communities still widely practise the round dance on ceremonial occasions. In the tnabar lilike, requests for bridewealth are made while the women dance and sing to tifa accompaniment (fig.23), whereas in the tnabar falolin each female dancer and drummer wears bird-of-paradise feather headdresses and inherited ornaments (fig.24). The ceremony tnabar rdadar mangwate prepares the soul of a deceased Tanimbar person for the journey to Selu island after death. Elders use a large ancient stone in the shape of a boat as their meeting place; a model ancestral boat is used for a church altar in Ololit Lama village. Dancers stand in an open, boat-shaped circle in order of precedence determined by the arrival of each family founder in the village. Females play the tival ulu (‘front drums’) while males play the tival muri (‘back drums’) and a large three-legged drum (nfeffik babal); the lead singer (kual) stands at the back of the circle of dancers.

(iii) North Maluku (Kabupaten Maluku Utara)

As a result of the lucrative European-Malukan spice trade centred on the four palaces on Ternate, Tidore, Bacan and Jailolo islands beginning in the 16th century, Portuguese-influenced music and dance forms were superimposed on the existing performing arts. Until the mid-15th century and the acceptance of Islam, the people of North Maluku adhered to local ancestral beliefs. Syncretic art forms developed, combining elements from local, southern European and Middle Eastern styles. Malay dances such as samroh, dana-dana and japin, which show Middle-Eastern influence in both the movements and the music, are still performed. Male martial dances and dances by ladies-in-waiting in the four courts were largely shaped by the sultan's political, economic and cultural needs. Today ronggeng social dancing is accompanied by sung melodies doubled on the filutu (bamboo duct flute). Sometimes a gambus (pear-shaped lute), two pairs of double-headed marwas drums and a male or female singer (sometimes both) substitute for the filutu ensemble; at other times electric guitars, rebana and a Western drum kit are used. In the Ternate palace the serious martial dances (hasa or soya-soya) are performed by one or two men of the highest military rank (kapita). The male protocol dances (cakalele) feature vigorous hopping and jumping movements. Archaic female court dances (lego-lego) performed by the sultana's ladies-in-waiting have been re-choreographed by government-organized troupes in Ternate and Tidore as part of their politically motivated revival. Muslim rituals used in life-crisis ceremonies include male salewat songs and girls' devotional dances (samroh, tari dana, japin), in which a Middle East-influenced melody (often with maqām-like tonal material and an Arabic, or Arabic-derived text) with gambus, tifa and rabana accompaniment is repeated many times. Under the present Sultan of Ternate, the badansa set of group martial dances has been revived. Bronze ensembles (called kulintang or kolintang in the Muslim palace of Ternate and jalanpong in the former Tidore palace) have existed in North Maluku for centuries. Containing a set of eight horizontal gongs called momo, a vertical gong (saragi), a double-headed drum (baka-baka), a set of four tifa podo (short drums), a triangle (besi tiga hoek) and a pair of locally made cymbals (dabi-dabi or cik), kulintang have been replaced to a degree by ensembles combining local and European instruments. A spectacular royal ceremony, the kololokie, is held whenever the Ternate volcano threatens to erupt; the sultan encircles the island in a flagship, on which the cikamomo bum (an ensemble of gong-chime, gong, drums, triangle and cymbals) is playing.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

GEWM (‘Maluku’, M.J. Kartomi)

F. Valentijn: ‘Beschrijvinge van Amboina’, Oud en Nieuw Oost Indiën, ii, iv, vi (Dordrecht, 1724–6)

A.R. Wallace: The Malay Archipelago (London, 2/1869/R)

G.W.W.C. Baron von Hoëvell: Ambon en meer bepaaldelijk de Oeliasers, geografisch, ethnographisch, politisch en historisch (Dordrecht, 1875)

W. Joest: ‘Malayische Lieder und Tänze aus Ambon und den Uliase (Molukken)’, International Archives of Ethnography, v (1892), 1–34

G.J. Nieuwenhuis: ‘Über der Tanz in Niederländisch-Indièn’, Beiträge zur Ethnologie des Malaiischen Archipels (Leiden, 1916)

J.F. Snellemann: ‘Muziek en Muziekinstrumenten’, Encyclopedie van Nederlandsch Oost-Indië (The Hague, 2/1918)

O.D. Tauern: Patasiwa und Patalima vom Molukkeneiland Seram und seinen Bewohnern (Leipzig, 1918)

F.A.E. Wouden: Sociale structuurtypen in de Groote Oost (Leiden, 1935; Eng. trans., 1968, as Types of Social Structure in Eastern Indonesia)

P. Drabbe: Het leven van den Tanembarées: ethnographische studie over het Tanembaréesche volk (Leiden, 1940)

J. Kunst: Een en ander over de muziek en den dans op de Kei-eilanden (Amsterdam, 1945)

F.L. Cooley: ‘Altar and Throne in Central Moluccan Societies’, Indonesia, i (1966), 135–56

P. Abdurachman: ‘Moluccan Responses to the First Intrusions of the West’, Dynamics of Indonesian History, ed. H. Soebadio and C.A. du Marchie Sarvas (Amsterdam, 1978), 161–8

E. Heins and G. van Wengen: ‘Maluku (Molukken)’, Südostasien, ed. P. Collaer, Musikgeschichte in Bildern, i/3 (Leipzig, 1979), 142

J. Molana: ‘Molukse muziek door de Eeuwen Heen’, Marinjo, no.15 (1981), 9–11

C. Gieben, R. Heijnen and A. Sapuletej: Muziek en dans spelletjes en kinderliedjes van de Molukken (Hoevelaken, 1984)

Bijdragen tot de taal-, land- en volkenkunde, cxlvi (1990) [incl. articles by J.W. Ajawaila, C. Barraud, T. van Dijk and N. de Jonge, J.D.M. Platenkamp, V. Valeri]

R. Chauvell: Nationalists, Soldiers and Separatists: the Ambonese Islands from Colonialism to Revolt, 1890–1950 (Leiden, 1990)

T. Kenji and J. Siegel: ‘Invincible Kitsch or As Tourists in the Age of Des Alwi’, Indonesia, l (1990), 61–76

L.Y. Andaya: ‘Local Trade Networks in Maluku in the 16th, 17th and 18th Centuries’, Cakalele: Maluku Research Journal, ii/2 (1991), 71–96

C. Barraud: ‘Wife-Givers as Ancestors and Ultimate Values in the Kei Islands’, Bijdragen tot de taal-, land- en volkenkunde, cxlvii (1991), 193–225

S. McKinnon: From a Shattered Sun: Hierarchy, Gender and Alliance in the Tanimbar Islands (Madison, WI, 1991)

M.J. Kartomi: ‘Appropriation of Music and Dance in Contemporary Ternate and Tidore’, SMA, xxvi (1992), 85–95

L.Y. Andaya: The World of Maluku: Eastern Indonesia in the Early Modern Period (Honolulu, 1993)

M.J. Kartomi: ‘Revival of Feudal Music, Dance and Ritual in the Former Spice Islands of Ternate and Tidore’, Culture and Society in New Order Indonesia, ed. V. Hooker (Oxford, 1993), 184–211

M.J. Kartomi: ‘Is Maluku Still Musicological terra incognita? An Overview of the Music-Cultures of the Province of Maluku’, Journal of Southeast Asian Studies, xxv (1994), 141–71

3. Nusa Tenggara Timur (the Eastern Lesser Sundas).

East of Sumbawa lie the two island arcs that comprise the Indonesian province of Nusa Tenggara Timur: the northern arc of Komodo, Flores, Solor and Alor, and the southern arc of Sumba, Savu, Roti and west Timor (East Timor, the former Portuguese colony that was invaded and annexed by Indonesia in 1975, and which won independence from Indonesia in 1999, is not included here). Nusa Tenggara Timur has a predominantly Christian population of about four million, living mainly on the larger islands of Flores, Sumba and the western half of Timor.

(i) Flores.

By conservative reckoning Flores is home to five different ethnolinguistic groups, but some instruments, such as plucked bamboo idiochord tube zithers, struck bamboo idiochords, xylophones and gong and drum ensembles, occur across the island. In the Lamaholot region of east Flores two or more singers sustain intervals that approximate major and minor 2nds in worksongs, clan epic songs and songs for house dedication and harvest thanksgiving. Song often accompanies dance, as in the hama dance featuring sung genealogies and local history. Vocal music in Sikka in east central Flores includes both choral and solo song: a male soloist sometimes participates in a responsorial performance, accompanied harmonically by a mixed chorus.

In Ende-Lio in central Flores the most prominent musical event is gawi, a circle dance led by male dancers that occurs as part of rituals concerning agricultural cycles, harvest thanksgiving and fertility. Wedding celebrations in central Flores feature a nuptial duet called feko genda involving a side-blown flute and a frame drum; warriors' dances and major community ceremonies and celebrations are accompanied by the nggo lamba gong and barrel-drum ensemble.

The people of Ngada in west central Flores possess a variety of end-blown flutes that may be played solo or in ensemble, sometimes accompanied by bamboo stamping tubes (thobo). The foi doa is a pair of flutes with a single mouthpiece, while the foi dogo is a triple flute, with the middle pipe acting as a drone. The foi mere (foi pai) is an indirectly blown bass flute that is unique to the Ngada region and only rarely heard. Flutes of all types in Ngada are only played while the rice is ripening; after the harvest they are prohibited until the next planting season. The regional vocal style features part-singing and has been compared with song of the central highlands of Irian Jaya (Kunst, 1946). Laba go (‘drum and gong’) ensembles comprise five gongs and a Florinese version of a European side drum called laba or tambur. The todagu ensemble features rhythmically complex music on bamboo slit-drums (toda, usually four divided among three players) and two high, narrow drums called laba toda. Other drums played in Ngada include the laba dera, a squat, single-headed hand drum, and the laba wai, a single-headed drum played with sticks. Because of its magical potency, drumming in Ngada is prohibited outside feast days.

Traditional villages in the Manggarai region in west Flores are arranged circularly, with a large ceremonial drum house (mbaru gendang) near the centre; these drums are played to ensure the approval of the ancestors when arable fields are allotted to village farmers. Gongs are played to accompany main caci, a type of competitive whip-duelling. After these duels, a lengthy vocal performance (mbata) may occur as part of a ritual predicting the coming agricultural cycle. Manggarai mbata songs are sung by a male soloist accompanied responsorially by a male, female or mixed chorus, with men and women singing in parallel intervals, sometimes accompanied by drums and gongs. Vocal style in some areas of Manggarai incorporates a kind of yodelling; formerly singers would sit on opposite hillsides and compete with one another across the narrow ravines.

(ii) Roti.

The predominant medium and symbol of music culture in Roti is the sasandu, a ten- or eleven-string tube zither with a palm leaf resonator usually played to accompany song. As a society, the Rotinese highly value the skilful manipulation of language exemplified in song. A ritual language form (bini) reserved for proverbs, poetry and song is the salient feature of song accompanied by sasandu, and it is primarily by their knowledge of bini and their ability to use it creatively that singers are judged. Rotinese myths and oral history indicate the importance of the sasandu in the Rotinese structuring of reality, placing the origin of the instrument alongside the origins of marriage, exogamy, mourning and death.

As an instrumental form the sasandu has much in common with the meko gong ensemble. They share a common repertory, with the tuning of the nine meko corresponding to the nine lowest strings of the sasandu. In addition, the sasandu is always accompanied by a small drum, or by tapping the instrument with a stick, to produce rhythmic patterns like those played on the large labu drum that accompanies the meko group. Meko ensembles comprise nine (or sometimes ten) bossed gongs, made of either iron or imported bronze, and a labu drum. They are played at weddings, wakes, house-dedication ceremonies and other gatherings, often accompanying dance. The nine meko are divided into four groups; from largest to smallest in size they are the ina (three), nggasa (two), leko (two) and ana (two). If a tenth meko is added it extends the upper range of the ensemble. With its brash and bold style, the meko ensemble provides a sharp contrast to the relatively quiet and introspective sasandu.

Some Rotinese pitched and rhythmic expressive sound forms are not considered as ‘music’ by the Rotinese, such as the sung accompaniment to the circle dance (e’ea), led by a manahelo (chanter) and answered by the other dancers in chorus, and invocations chanted in strict ritual language accompanied by a single labu drum (bapa). The only Rotinese musical form not directly associated with traditional Rotinese music is the sasando biola, a diatonic and expanded version of the sasandu, used to play church hymns and non-Rotinese folk and popular songs. Its tuning and arrangement of pitches vary, but most instruments have between 24 to 39 strings and can play in two diatonic keys over a range of about three octaves. Some sasando biola players use a wooden box as a resonator rather than the traditional lontar leaf, and there is also a sasando biola listrik (electric sasando biola), which is played through an amplifier.

(iii) Savu.

Traditional life is governed by a lunar calendar that prohibits ceremonial music and dance during part of the year. This period of ritual silence ends with the harvest and the lively sound of the padoa circle dance. Participants attach small baskets filled with mung beans to their ankles to accompany their singing; when the season of ritual padoa dancing ends, these baskets of beans are stored until the following year when their contents are planted as seed.

For several weeks the singing and bean-basket percussion of the padoa dancers is the only ritual music allowed until the namangngu (gongs) and dere (drum) are played, the date depending on the ceremonial calendar. A complete namangngu group comprises seven gongs, a set of cymbals (wo paheli) and a drum (dere). Pieces typically begin with the two small gongs (leko), followed by the two medium gongs (wo peibho abho) and finally the three largest gongs (didala ae, didala iki and gaha).

Other Savunese musical instruments include the tebe wooden jew's harp, the hekido four-hole bamboo ring flute, and the ketadu (‘that which satisfies’) family of instruments. The ketadu haba tube zither with palm-leaf resonator is very similar to the Rotinese sasandu, but with eight metal strings rather than the ten or eleven found in Roti and with a different playing style and repertory. The distinguishing feature of both these tube zithers is their leaf resonator, which reflects the central place of the lontar palm in the lives of these two eastern Indonesian peoples. The ketadu mara is a trough xylophone with nine wooden keys played with sticks made from lontar branches. The instrument called simply ketadu is a two-string boat lute similar to the Sumbanese jungga. Unlike the namangngu, these instruments are usually played by soloists in relatively informal situations.

(iv) Sumba.

This island was the last in Indonesia to maintain a pagan majority, and music in Sumba is primarily sacred, with followers of the traditional ways praying and singing to spirits and sacred objects collectively known as marapu, of which musical instruments are among the most important. Singing and dancing occur most often in the feasting months after the rice harvest (July to September), when people gather in the ancestral villages. As the rains approach in October and November there is a period of ritual silence, and music-making is taboo until the ceremonies held to welcome the new agricultural year in February or March.

In east Sumba gongs are played with a drum (lamba), whereas in west Sumba a similar drum (bendu) is used along with a hanging drum (bapa) and sometimes a hand drum (deliro). Whether played in mourning or rejoicing, the sound of the gong ensemble is always augmented by the cries of the men (kayaka) and the piercing, sustained ululation of the women (kakalaku). In east Sumba gong pieces usually begin with the two large katala gongs, which are hung next to each other with the larger gong on the player’s right. Next, the two medium-sized nggaha gongs enter, with the larger suspended above the smaller. Finally the two small gongs (kabolulu and paranjangu) complete the ensemble along with the lamba drum.

The upright drum (bendu) is the primary ritual actor in yaigho, an all-night singing ceremony held in response to some form of affliction, when a song is sung to the spirit inside the drum. The song tells of the origins of the drum, how it was carved from a piece of driftwood and given the shapely form of a young woman. The first drum made was covered with the skin of a sacrificed slave girl whose spirit is believed to continue to live there, although nowadays the skin is made from the hide of a buffalo calf. The drum's song transposes her story of suffering to provide a model for the origins of the shamanistic power to cure; it is the drum that acts as the shaman rather than the singer. The bendu is played with sticks by a seated player, accompanied by an assistant who beats a horizontal drum (diliro) with his hands. Inside the house, gongs are hung from roof rafters near the front veranda and beaten rhythmically to accompany the singer's words.

Woleko is a more elaborate ceremony; a stand of five gongs is erected outside the house to thank the spirits for their assistance, and buffalo are sacrificed to feed them. At a woleko, the singing includes a series of long pieces ‘sung to the dancing ground’ (lodo nataro) where male and female dancers face each other, the men charging forward with spears, shields and bush knives towards the women, who tremble and flutter their hands.

Music is the required accompaniment to any form of large-scale collective work. Singers must be invited (and paid) at gatherings to drag the large wooden pillars that become house posts, to thatch the high roofs of ancestral cult houses and to incite the several hundred people who drag large stones to the villages, where they are made into megalithic graves. Stone-dragging songs (bengo) are the longest and most elaborate of the work songs (lodo paghili), describing the stone as a bride who travels across the water to meet her intended husband in the ancestral village.

Love and recreational songs (lavitti) are often sung without musical accompaniment but can be accompanied by one-string fiddle (dungga roro) or two-string lute (dungga); the tunes can also be repeated on the nose flute (poghi). Recreational songs are also sometimes accompanied by a bamboo jew's harp (nggunggi) or a four-hole bamboo flute (kapika or taleli). As part of preparations for the yearly calendrical ceremonies and pasola jousting contests, teasing courtship songs called kawoking are sung along the beaches of the west coast of Sumba.

(v) West Timor.

The Atoni are the main inhabitants of West Timor. Although most are Christian, traditional ceremonial life centred on the ancestral spirits continues, with music and dance playing a vital role. Atoni society is arranged patrilineally, but only women perform in the ritually significant sene tufu (gong and drum) ensemble. This is usually played to accompany dance, with the dancers sometimes attaching bano (bracelets with metal jangles) or te oh (bracelets with leaf baskets containing sand) to their ankles to augment the sound of the gongs and drum. A sene tufu ensemble consists of six gongs (sene) and one single-headed drum (tufu). The six sene are divided among three players, with one woman playing the two largest kbolo gongs, one the two medium-sized ote and the other the two small tetun.

Atoni songs sung in informal gatherings are often improvised and narrate actual events; performers are usually male. Koa is a type of song in which the singer rhythmically speaks the text to musical accompaniment, a style that younger Atoni compare with rap. The main accompanying instrument is the leku (also pisu or bijol), a fretless lute with four strings (often made from rubber bands), strummed in a strong, rhythmic style. In a typical Atoni ensemble, one or more leku provide the chordal accompaniment for heterophonic playing of heo (viola), feku (wood ocarina) and bobi (end-blown bamboo flute). Portuguese-derived instruments may also be included in the Atoni ensemble, such as the simaku transverse flute, the kili comb and tissue kazoo, and the gitar (guitar). Atoni solo instruments are less frequently heard at social gatherings and include sene hauh (trough xylophone), sene kaka (six-string bamboo idiochord), knobe besi (jew's harp), knobe oh (wooden jew's harp, similar to the Balinese genggong) and knobe kbetas (musical bow), believed by the Atoni to be their oldest musical instrument.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

GEWM (‘Nusa Tenggara Timur’, C. Basile and J. Hoskins)

J. Kunst: Music in Flores (Leiden, 1942)

J. Kunst: Muziek en dans in de buitengewesten (Leiden, 1946); Eng. trans. in Indonesian Music and Dance: Traditional Music and its Interaction with the West, ed. M. Frijn and others (Amsterdam, 1994), 173–204

J. Kunst: Kulturhistorische Beziehungen zwischen dem Balkan und Indonesien (Amsterdam, 1953; Eng. trans., 1954, 2/1960)

J.J. Fox: ‘Semantic Parallelism in Rotinese Ritual Language’, Bijdragen tot de taal-, land- en volkenkunde, cxxvii (1971), 215–55

J.J. Fox: Harvest of the Palm: Ecological Change in Eastern Indonesia (Cambridge, MA, 1977)

J.J. Fox: ‘The Ceremonial System of Savu’, The Imagination of Reality: Essays in Southeast Asian Coherence Systems: Ann Arbor 1974, ed. A.L. Becker and A.A. Yengoyan (Norwood, NJ, 1979), 145–73

M.J. Adams: ‘Instruments and Songs of Sumba, Indonesia: a Preliminary Survey’, AsM, xiii (1981), 73–83

D. Hicks: ‘Art and Religion on Timor’, Islands and Ancestors: Indigenous Styles of Southeast Asia, ed. J.P. Barbier and D. Newton (New York, 1988), 138–51

J. Hoskins: ‘The Drum is the Shaman, the Spear Guides his Voice’, Social Sciences Medicine, xxvii (1988), 819–28

J. Hoskins: The Play of Time: Kodi Perspectives on Calendars, History and Exchange (Berkeley, 1993)

4. Sulawesi.

(iii) Genres and ensembles.

(ii) Instruments.

(i) Introduction.

The island of Sulawesi (formerly Celebes), consisting of long peninsulas extending outward from a mountainous central core, is home to roughly 13 million people and close to 60 distinct languages. The linguist Noorduyn has identified four language groups in the north and its neighbouring islands (Sangiric, Minahasan, Gorontalo-Mongondic and Tomini: 20 languages), two groups in the central region, eastern peninsula and its neighbouring islands (Kaili-Pamona and Saluan: 12 languages), two groups in the south-eastern peninsula, eastern-central region and south-eastern islands (Bungku-Mori and Muna-Buton: 18 languages), and one in the south-western peninsula (South Sulawesi: eight languages). In 1964 the island was divided into four provinces: South Sulawesi, South-east Sulawesi, Central Sulawesi and North Sulawesi. Islam is the dominant religion in most lowland communities, whereas Christianity has gained many followers in some of the central highland regions, Manado and surrounding areas in the north. Other systems of belief survive to various degrees throughout most of the island. The city of Ujung Pandang (known formerly as Makasar (Makassar)) in South Sulawesi, has served as an important trade centre since at least the early 1500s, resulting in the introduction of many varieties of musical instruments and practices (Chinese, Javanese, Malay, Arabic and European). The Dutch presence was strongest in the Minahasa region, where Dutch songs remain popular.

Throughout the island, the powerful forces of the global music industry and Jakarta-based popular music are evident, from the tapes and CDs sold in cassette stores and broadcasts on radio and television, to the music played by guitar-strumming youth. Along with popular music from outside the island a number of Sulawesi musicians also perform popular music in local languages, usually with electric and electronic instrumental accompaniment and in popular dangdut or langgam kroncong styles (see §VIII, 1 below for discussion of these genres). Popular songs in local languages have been recorded since the late 1930s, when the Chinese-Makasarese musician Hoo Eng Djie sang with a small ensemble that combined violin and clarinet with indigenous gongs and frame drums. Local cassette production began in 1975 with a broad range of local genres, but only the music resembling Jakarta-based popular styles has proven to be commercially successful. Local radio and television stations broadcast a moderate amount of music from Sulawesi, but very little music that does not incorporate Western instruments and scales.

No comprehensive study of music in Sulawesi has been published since Kaudern's description of musical instruments in 1927. Holt's study (1939) describes dances of South Sulawesi, with modest data on musical accompaniment. Recent work with substantial music content has mostly consisted of detailed studies by anthropologists (especially Atkinson, 1989 and George, 1996) and inventories and short reports published in Indonesia (especially the works of Lathief, Mangemba, Najamuddin and Pat[t]adungan), with most of the latter concerning South Sulawesi, home of the Bugis and Makasarese (Sulawesi's largest ethnic groups) and the Toraja (the best-known group in the scholarly and tourist literature). Yet it is possible to make some general remarks on Sulawesi's music. Double-headed drums and instruments of bamboo (flutes and various idiophones) are especially widespread. Metal knobbed gongs are found in some ensembles, mostly in lowland coastal regions, but are less prominent than on other Indonesian islands. Vocal music ranges from the lyric and narrative song of the southern peninsulas accompanied by lute or spike fiddle to the pulsating choral music of the central highlands and the diatonic songs of the north.

(ii) Instruments.

A great variety of idiophones are found in Sulawesi, mostly used as accompaniment for dance ritual or for informal entertainment: cymbals (kancing, sia-sia), concussion slats and castanets (dadalo, talontalod), concussion plaques (anak beccing, anak baccing), rattles (alosu, arumpigi, batutu, tiwolu), fringed bamboo idiophones (sia-sia, lae-lae, lea-lea, parappasa), metal gongs (gong gentung, jong, dengkang, padaling, tawa-tawa, ndengu-ndengu), metal gong-chimes (kolintang tambaga, kolintang wasei, kannong-kannong, katto-katto), slit-gongs (kattok-kattok, mbalolo, tetengkoren), rice blocks (balendo, assung, Lesung), trough xylophones (tennong, calong, latou-tou, katou), frame xylophones (kolintang), metal key idiophones (ganang), percussion tubes (pong-pong, kakula, kalung-kalung), two-tongue bamboo buzzing wands (rere, pore, tonggobi, sasasaheng, jarumbing, polopalo, alalo, ore-ore nggae) and jew's harps (genggong, karombi, oli, ore-ore mbondu, alingen).

Membranophones, again used mostly to accompany dance and ritual, include kettledrums (rabana), single-headed cylindrical drums (ganda, tiwal, towahu), double-headed cylindrical (kanda, gimba) and barrel drums (ganrang, genrang, gandang, gendang) and frame drums (marwas, rabana, Rebana), as well as a few hourglass drums (kunti), drums with feet (karatu) and rattle (kamaru) drums. Drums are often accorded special ritual status and given offerings, comparable to metal gongs in Java and Bali.

Song (without dance) is usually accompanied by chordophones. Plucked bar zithers (kantung, kandile, sosanru) and plucked and struck bamboo idiochord tube zithers (salude, kalembosan, anthu-anthunga, sattung, ganrang bulo) were widely distributed throughout central and northern Sulawesi, with some varieties also occurring in the south (ganrang bulo), although the bar zither has mostly fallen into disuse. Plucked boat-shaped lutes (kacapi, kacaping, kecapi, kusapi, kabosi), sometimes with elaborate filigree carving protruding past the tuning pegs, occur primarily in the south-western and south-eastern peninsulas and usually accompany lyric or narrative solo singing. The Middle Eastern-derived bowl lute (Gambus, gambusu’) is found in southern and northern lowland areas. Spike fiddles (arababu, arabu, raba, geso-geso, gesok-kesok, gesong-gesong, kesok-kesok, tabolok, kere-kere gallang), with one or two strings and a coconut-shell or heart-shaped resonator, occur throughout the island, in both upland and lowland areas, and often accompany narrative singing.

Most popular of the aerophones are the many varieties of vertical bamboo flute with external duct (suling, suling lembang, suling lampe, suling ponco’, suling balio, suling bonde, suling deata, susulingen, tualing). Reed aerophones are limited mainly to the south, from the rice-stalk ‘paddy pipe’ and idioglot reedpipe (sikunru, pupai, leleo) to the conical-bore oboe (puik-puik), clarinet (keke-keke, banci-banci, basing-basing) and double clarinet (basing-basing, bacing-pacing). Other aerophones include transverse flutes (bansi, Suling), conch trumpets (bia, pontuang), bamboo trumpets (tambolo, bonto, pompang, korno) and metal aerophones (tubalos, sola, remifa, overton, saksopon).

(iii) Genres and ensembles.

Sulawesi maintains a variety of distinctive local genres, mostly involving small ensembles. In lowland South Sulawesi, the best-known dances are accompanied by one or more double-headed barrel drums, usually with oboe and/or gong. The slow and graceful movements of the Makasarese female ensemble dance pakarena are accompanied by two double-headed barrel drums (ganrang) played with fast interlocking patterns, one oboe (puik-puik) playing a continuous melody (with circular breathing), a single metal gong and a bamboo slit-gong (kattok-kattok), and sometimes also iron concussion plaques (anak baccing), and a fringed bamboo idiophone (lea-lea, parappasa). The contrast between the subdued dance and exuberant music is often interpreted locally to represent essential gender differences. A similar ensemble, but with slower drumming and without bamboo slit-gong, accompanies Bugis transvestite priests (bissu), who sometimes play narrow bamboo rattles (alosu, arumpigi) as they dance. Formerly prominent in ritual life as keepers of the royal regalia, the bissu perform for various ceremonies including weddings. Many other dances in lowland South Sulawesi (e.g. Bugis female dances pajoge’ and paraga, Mandar female dance pattuddu, Konjo/Makasarese male dance pabatte passapu) are also accompanied by a pair of interlocking drums, usually with gong and sometimes additional idiophones: fringed bamboo idiophones (sia sia, lae-lae, lea-lea), cymbals (kancing) and concussion plaques (anak baccing). Duple metre predominates, but triple-metre drumming accompanies local varieties of martial arts (mancak, mencak). The Makasarese ganrang bulo is named after the bamboo idiochord played by the dancers, who are usually accompanied by boat lute (kacaping) and sometimes violin (biola) with frame drum (rabana). It is often performed by children playing bamboo castanets and singers accompanying themselves on kacaping, without bamboo idiochord. Ensembles of kacaping or kecapi and bamboo flute (suling), developed in the 1960s and called sinfoni kecapi, accompany local diatonic songs and, with drum added, often accompany the dances choreographed for stage performance by pioneering dancer-musician Andi Nurhani Sapada and her students. More recently, innovative musicians and choreographers, such as A. Halilintar Lathief, Syamsul Qamar, and Sirajuddin Dg. Bantang, have combined various instruments of South Sulawesi into unique ensembles playing a mix of traditional and experimental music.

Sinrilik and massurek present long narratives of local heroes and history in lyric prose and narrow-range melody, often accompanied by spike fiddle (for sinrilik) or kecapi (for massurek). Other vocal music often involves versified exchange between two or more singers (sisila-sila, batti’-batti’), usually accompanied by kacaping, kecapi or gambus. Several ensembles combine Western and local instruments, such as the Bugis kecapi-biola (with boat-shaped lute and violin) and Makasarese orkes parambang (orkes rambang-rambang, orkes turiolo). The orkes parambang presents locally composed songs, mostly in Western diatonic scales and duple metre and accompanied by violin, frame drums (rabana), hanging gong, a pair of horizontally mounted gongs (kannong-kannong) and sometimes clarinet, trumpet, mandolin, guitar or suling. Closely resembling the langgam and keroncong known elsewhere in Indonesia is the Makasarese losquin, with guitar and sometimes a few other Western-derived chordophones providing harmonic accompaniment. Many of South Sulawesi's diatonic songs can be played in several different styles, and some are thought to exhibit Chinese and Arabic as well as Western influence. Arabic influence is also evident in the widespread use of frame drums, particularly in the qasidah vocal ensemble (see §VIII, 1 below), whose repertory includes songs with Arabic texts.

Vocal music predominates among the Toraja in upland South Sulawesi. Pulsating responsorial and antiphonal singing – dondi’ (seated mixed chorus) and badong (male round-dance chorus) – is heard at Torajan funerals. At fertility (bua’) and purification (bugi’ and maro) rites, male and female choruses also perform, in some cases with flute or drum accompaniment. Choral music is mostly in duple and sometimes triple metre. Flute ensembles (suling bonde, suling lembang,suling deata) and fiddle ensembles (geso-geso) also perform for purification rituals. A wind ensemble dating from late colonial times is referred to as pompang, after the many buzzed-lip bamboo aerophones that make up the core of the ensemble, complemented by bamboo flutes and drums. Pompang ensembles perform diatonic pieces with basic Western harmonies in a hymn style introduced by Christian missionaries. Some dances, such as the well-known female pagellu’, are accompanied by a double-headed barrel drum (gandang) played simultaneously by two or more drummers, with one of the dancers standing on the body of the drum. Music similar to that of the Toraja is also found in highland areas to the west (Mamasa and upland Mamuju).

In South-east Sulawesi, as in South Sulawesi, drum and gong ensembles used to accompany ritual dances such as the melulo rice-harvest dance (drum and three gongs) and the modinggu rice-pounding dance (drum, gong, gong-chime, rice-block and pestle) of the Kolaka peoples. Drumming also accompanies Islamic maulid ceremonies of the Wolio people. The Wolio also practise narrative singing of local histories (kabanti), as well as songs accompanied by bowl lute (gambusu’). Other instruments include bamboo idiochords (dimba-dimba), bamboo buzzing wands (ore-ore nggae), the bamboo jew's harp of the Kolaka people (ore-ore mbondu), the kapupurapi bamboo aerophone with small tongues and four holes, played for courting, the three-key wooden xylophone (katou) of the Muna people, and the spike fiddle (raba) of the Wolio. Many other instruments were reported in the early 20th century by Kaudern, including bamboo buzzing wands, single-headed drums, boat-shaped lutes, bamboo flutes and double clarinets.

Musical ensembles in Central Sulawesi include purely vocal groups, small instrumental groups consisting of one or more drums with several other instruments (gongs, flutes, or cymbals) and vocal-instrumental groups, often performing songs in Western scales with guitar accompaniment. Many of these ensembles accompany shamanic and other rituals, in which drumming is usually considered a crucial element for efficacy (e.g. those of the Kulawi and Wana). The Kulawi rego is a round-dance in which the chorus of dancers provide the musical accompaniment. In one major variety, men and women alternate in close formation, with each man placing his arm over the shoulder of the woman to his left, a practice suppressed by both Christian and Muslim authorities but recently undergoing revival as part of wider efforts by the Indonesian government to promote regional arts. Western-influenced diatonic singing and guitar playing has replaced indigenous forms of accompaniment for some ritual and secular dances, such as the Kaili dero. Most music represented in available literature and recordings is in duple metre, but some major genres, including the Kulawi rego, employ triple metre.

Several distinctive ensemble types have developed in North Sulawesi, performing Dutch, Western and Western-influenced Indonesian songs as well as local songs in diatonic scales; these include the bamboo-brass band (musik bambu seng) and the xylophone ensemble (kolintang, kulintang). Musik bambu seng developed from ensembles of bamboo flutes and horns (known as korno or tenor) in the mid-19th century. Drums were added in the 1920s together with different registers of ‘brass’ instruments (tubalos, sola, remifa), which were made mostly of zinc (seng) in the 1930s and 40s and often of copper by the 1960s; sometimes saxophones and clarinets were also included (Boonzajer, 1992). Current ensembles are largely metal, but they retain the bamboo korno and are pitched between B and D. Kolintang ensembles, with several registers of diatonically tuned xylophones played in a standing position, have spread from North Sulawesi to many other parts of Indonesia and are especially popular among Dharma Wanita groups (made up of the wives of civil servants). Experiments with the bamboo buzzing wand (polopalo) of the Gorontalo have resulted in large ensembles and even the construction of a two-octave polopalo, with each chromatic tone of the Western scale sounded by one wand. At Sam Ratulangi University, W.J. Waworeontoe developed the sumisingka ensemble, a pot pourri of North Sulawesian indigenous instruments (bamboo flutes, slit-gongs, concussion slats and drums) intended to fulfil the function of Western-influenced drum-bands, but at the same time to be clearly identifiable as from North Sulawesi.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

general

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J. Kunst: Muziek en dans in de Buitengewesten (Leiden, 1946); Eng. trans., in Indonesian Music and Dance: Traditional Music and its Interaction with the West, ed. M. Frijn and others (Amsterdam, 1994), 173–204

B. Soelarto and S.I. Albiladiyah: Adat Istiadat dan Kesenian Orang Kulawi di Sulawesi Tengah [Customs, traditions and arts of the Kulawi people of Central Sulawesi] (Jakarta, c1975)

Kesenian di daerah Wuna (Kabupaten Muna) [Arts of the Wuna region] (Kendari, 1979–80) [pubn of Proyek Pengembangan Kesenian Sulawesi Tenggara]

A.M. Zahari: Memperkenalkan kesenian rakyat tradisional Wolio [Introducing the traditional folk arts of the Wolio] (Kendari, 1980)

M. Atkinson: The Art and Politics of Wana Shamanship (Berkeley, 1989)

Soepanto, A.A. Hafied and S. Kutoyo: Ny. Andi Nurhani Sapada: (Jakarta, 1991)

L.V. Aragon: ‘Revised Rituals in Central Sulawesi: the Maintenance of Traditional Cosmological Concepts in the Face of Allegiance to World Religion’, Anthropological Forum, vi (1992), 371–84

south sulawesi

C. Holt: Dance Quest in Celebres (Paris, 1939/R)

H. van der Veen: The Sa'dan Toradja Chant for the Deceased (Leiden, 1966)

C.S. Pattadungan: ‘Suling Lembang’, ‘Ma'Badong di Tana Toraja’, ‘Pompang’, Musika, no.2 (1973), 53–6, 57–60, 61–70

L.E. Sumaryo: ‘Beberapa catatan mengenai musik dan tari di daerah Bugis (Sulawesi Selatan)’ [Some remarks on music and dance in the Bugis (South Sulawesi) region], Musika, no.2 (1973), 71–95

H.A. Mattulada: Bugis-Makassar (Jakarta, 1974)

J. Koubi: ‘La première fête funéraire chez les Toraja Sa'dan’, Archipel (1975), 105–19

A.N. Sapada: Tari kreasi baru Sulawesi Selatan [New dances in South Sulawesi] (Ujung Pandang, 1975)

J. Koubi and C. Pelras: disc notes, Les musiques de Célèbes, Indonésie: musiques toradja et bugis, Anthologie de la Musique des Peuples AMP 2906 (1976)

H.D. Mangemba: Ensiklopedi musik dan tari daerah Sulawesi Selatan [Encyclopedia of music and dance in the South Sulawesi region] (Ujung Pandang, 1978)

C.S. Patadungan: Musik, tari dan drama tradisional daerah Sulawesi Selatan [Traditional music, dance and drama of South Sulawesi] (Ujung Pandang, 1979)

H. van der Veen: Overleveringen en zangen der Zuid-Toradja's (The Hague, 1979)

G. Hamonic: “‘Mallawolo”: chants bugis pour la sacralisation des anciens princes de Célèbes-Sud’, Archipel, xix (1980), 43–79

A.H. Lathief: Alat-alat musik tradisional Sulawesi Selatan [Traditional musical instruments of South Sulawesi] (Yogyakarta, 1980)

M.J. Kartomi: ‘His Skyward Path the Rainbow Is: Funeral Music of the Sa'dan Toraja in South Sulawesi’, Hemisphere, xxv (1981), 303–9

M. Nadjamuddin: Tari tradisional Sulawesi Selatan [Traditional dance of South Sulawesi] (Ujung Pandang, 1982)

G. Hamonic and C. Salmon: ‘La vie littéraire et artistique des chinois peranakan de Makassar (1935–1950)’, Archipel, xxvi (1983), 143–78

A.H. Lathief: Tari-tarian daerah Bugis [Dances of the Bugis region] (Yogyakarta, 1983)

M. Nadjamuddin: Pengetahuan karawitan daerah Sulawesi Selatan [Knowledge about gamelan in South Sulawesi] (Jakarta, 1983)

G. Hamonic: Le langage des dieux; cultes et pouvoirs pre-Islamiques en pays Bugis, Célèbes-Sud, Indonésie (Paris, 1987)

M.J. Kartomi: ‘Ritual Music and Dance: Contact and Change in the Lowlands of South Sulawesi’, Yazhou yishu jie/Festival of Asian Arts, xii (1989), 30–35

K.M. George: ‘Felling a Song with a New Ax: Writing and the Reshaping of Ritual Song Performance in Upland Sulawesi’, Journal of American Folklore, cii/407 (1990), 3–23

A. Arief and H. Zainuddin, eds.: Sinrilikna Kappalak Tallumbatua [The sung narrative of the three ships] (Jakarta, 1993)

K.M. George: ‘Music-Making, Ritual, and Gender in a Southeast Asian Hill Society’, EthM, xxxvii (1993), 1–27

A.H. Lathief: Kecapi (Ujung Pandang, 1994)

Indonésie, Toraja: funérailles et fêtes de fécondité/Indonesia, Toraja, Funerals and Fertility Feasts, coll. D. Rappaport, Le chant du Monde CNR 2741004 (1995)

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north sulawesi

E.H. Ruauw: Kolintang (Jakarta, 1971)

H.T.L. Ticoalu and others: Ensiklopedi musik dan tari daerah Sulawesi Utara [Encyclopedia of music and dance in the North Sulawesi region] (Manado, 1978)

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R. Palada: Petunjuk téknis pengembangan polopalo menjadi alat musik tradisional Gorontalo (Sulawesi Utara) [Technical instructions on the developing of the polopaloas a traditional Gorontalo musical instrument] (Jakarta, 1982)

Kumpulan lagu-lagu daerah Sulawesi Utara: dalam rangka revitalisasi kesenian yang hampir punah [Collection of melodies from North Sulawesi: in the framework of the revitalization of arts that are almost extinct] (Manado, 1984) [pubn of Proyek Pengembangan Kesenian Sulawesi Utara]

A.W.J. Uno: Polopalo, kesenian tradisional Gorontalo [The polopalo, a traditional Gorontalo art] (Bandung, 1986)

R. Boonzajer: ‘The Minahassa Bamboo Brass Bands’, Brass Bulletin, no.77 (1992), 38–47

Indonesia, §VIII: Pan-Indonesian musical developments

VIII. Pan-Indonesian musical developments

1. Popular music.

2. New composition.

1. Popular music.

The various forms of popular music (and, to a lesser extent, Islamic and Christian religious music) are the only kinds of music disseminated and accepted throughout Indonesia (see §I, 1, above). More than any other form, popular music crosses regional, ethnic and religious boundaries, and it can thus be considered the country's only ‘national’ music.

(v) 1965 to the late 1990s.

Indonesia, §VIII, 1: Pan-Indonesian musical developments: Popular music

(i) 1890–1918.

Before the 20th century, the only musics in Indonesia (then the Netherlands Indies) that crossed regional and ethnolinguistic boundaries were Islamic religious music and Qur’anic chant (the latter not, from the strict Islamic viewpoint, considered as ‘music’) and, to a much lesser extent, European marches, waltzes, operetta tunes and light classical music. These European genres, sung in European languages, appealed to the Dutch colonial administrators, to the most Westernized of the native aristocracy and to Eurasians favouring the European side of their dual heritage. The emergence, at the turn of the century, of popular music sung in Melayu (Malay), the lingua franca of the colony and the basis of the modern Indonesian language, was fostered by two developments: the rise of commercial urban theatre and the advent of commercial recording.

Commercial Melayu-language theatre is thought to have originated in the Malay peninsula (Camoens, 1982; Tan, 1993) and to have spread in the 1890s to Java (initially Surabaya and Batavia (Jakarta)), where it was variously called stambul, komedi stambul, bangsawan and opera. Stambul was eclectic in its stories and music, drawing on Dutch, Middle Eastern, Chinese, Malay and local Indonesian (mainly Batavian) sources. The music was performed by a small ensemble: rebab and violin according to one early report (van Maurik); violin, flute and guitar according to another (Knaap). It is likely that other instruments were added. By the early 20th century the orchestra could include piano and European instruments, but it never extended to gamelan instruments or others regarded as essentially indigenous.

In the 1890s, the music for stambul was apparently derived mainly from European sources: opera, operetta and popular song. At least by 1910, a number of melodies perceived as Indonesian had been added to the repertory as vehicles for sung narration and monologue. These Indonesian melodies were of two classes: stambul and kroncong (keroncong). European in idiom, stambul melodies were identified by number: stambul satu (one), stambul dua (two) etc., reaching at least nine. They were presumably associated with specific scene-types or emotional states that occurred regularly in stambul plays.

Before World War I, kroncong melodies were also European in idiom, though later they became Indonesianized. The roots of kroncong lie in Portuguese songs and instruments brought to Indonesia in the 16th and early 17th centuries. Presumably introduced by Portuguese traders and sailors, they were perpetuated by mixed-race descendants of the Portuguese and by the ‘Black Portuguese’ or Mardijkers, descendants of Asian and African slaves owned and then freed by the Portuguese. The principal Mardijker settlements were in Batavia and Ambon (Abdurachman, 1975).

By the late 19th century the Mardijkers had intermarried with Eurasians and Indonesians and had largely disappeared as a distinct group. Kroncong was by then an urban folk music, associated primarily with Eurasians in Batavia and other large cities. For the most part Eurasians were closer in lifestyle, income and social status to inlanders or pribumi (‘natives’) than to full-blood Europeans, and kroncong was a lower-class music, though its adoption by the stambul theatre and the recording industry enhanced its status.

According to Manusama (1919) there were, strictly speaking, only two kroncong melodies: Kroncong Moresco, in major tonality, and Prounga or Kroncong Bandan, in minor tonality (others that are often grouped with them, e.g. Nina Bobo and Kafrinyo, are not titled ‘kroncong’). He asserted that these melodies were Portuguese in origin. Singers used them as vehicles for memorized or improvised quatrains called pantun. The accompaniment was variable. A strummed lute is always mentioned: a guitar or the small lute called kroncong, which resembles the ukulele or the Portuguese cavaquinho. It is often assumed that the kroncong genre takes its name from the kroncong lute, but Seebass (1997) suggests that the terminology went in the other direction. Other instruments could be added, including violin, European flute and perhaps a frame drum.

The first commercial recordings of Indonesian musicians were made in Singapore by the Gramophone Company in 1903. About two-thirds of the titles recorded then are in European languages; the rest, including two kroncong and three stambul, are in Melayu. By the time of the Gramophone Company's next trips, in 1909 and 1910, kroncong and stambul (recorded in Batavia, Yogyakarta and Semarang) had become much more prominent. Gramophone records of kroncong, stambul and European operetta tunes, marches and waltzes were also issued in this pre-war period by other European companies and by Indonesian-Chinese entrepreneurs in Batavia and Surabaya.

Indonesia, §VIII, 1: Pan-Indonesian musical developments: Popular music

(ii) 1920–42.

In this period, ending with the Japanese occupation of Indonesia and the collapse of Dutch colonial control, popular music was no longer dependent on the pre-war European forms, but rather upon the newer popular songs and dance-music of the United States and Europe: tangos, foxtrots, rumbas, blues and swing (Möller, 1987). Gramophone records purveyed countless imported and newly composed tunes, almost all of them sung in Melayu, with the exception of the ‘Hawaiian’ song genre, which was sung in English. Instrumentation and idiom were those of Western popular music of the time; for convenience these various forms will be termed ‘Western-model’ popular music.

The only indigenous song forms prominent in the popular music of the 1920s and 30s were kroncong and, to a lesser extent, stambul. Kroncong Bandan or Prounga vanished, leaving one melody (Moresco) for the entire kroncong genre; but recordings show that after the war the harmonic rhythm of kroncong slowed to half the pre-war speed, permitting greater variation in the realization of that melody, so that the single melody became a melody-type, a chord-sequence over which many melodies could be set. Table 19 outlines the basic sequence, ignoring standard optional substitutions (such as I–I–IV–V–I–I–IV–V instead of I–I–I–I–I–I–I–I).

During a period of 10 or 15 years beginning in the late 1920s, the characteristic kroncong ensemble and performance idiom developed: a flowing vocal (or violin) melody is decorated by a rapid interlocking figuration of upper-register plucked lutes (e.g. ukulele and mandolin), with a ‘walking’ guitar line occupying the middle register and animated pizzicato cello in the lower register suggesting drumming. Although the melodic-harmonic base is Western, the stratified texture of this string band evokes the organization of Javanese gamelan music and Sundanese kacapi-suling (zither and bamboo flute genre), and it is a crucial element in creating the ‘Indonesian’ quality of kroncong. Songs using the kroncong chord sequence were also recorded during this period in non-stratified idioms (i.e. those of European dance music); such recordings were described as krontjong tango, krontjong rumba etc.

As the commercial theatre abandoned the sung narration and monologue typical of stambul in favour of spoken dialogue with inserted production numbers and ‘cabaret’ entr'actes, the function of numbered stambul melodies died out; however, songs using these melodies or their chord sequences (particularly that of stambul dua) were still heard.

Probably very near the end of this pre-World War II period, a variety of Melayu-language popular song emerged that was perceived to be related to kroncong but did not use the traditional kroncong form; instead it used AABA melodic form and chord sequences typical of ordinary Euro-American popular songs. This new form came to be known (after the war if not before) as langgam kroncong (Table 20). During and after the war langgam kroncong were performed in the stratified idiom that had developed for kroncong; this was probably the case before the war as well, but evidence has not yet surfaced to prove this. The famous song Bengawan Solo, composed by Gesang Martohartono in 1940, is an example of a langgam kroncong.

In the late 1930s, Western-model songs were recorded in Arabic and in several Indonesian languages other than the lingua franca: Acehnese, ‘Batak’ (i.e. Toba), Karo, Minangkabau and Makasar. There were also two genres of Islamic popular music not modelled on Western forms: orkes harmonium, the nucleus of which was harmonium, violin and vocal, usually sung in Arabic; and orkes gambus, consisting of violin(s), Gambus (wooden pear-shaped lute) and vocal (in Arabic or Melayu), plus other optional instruments (guitar, mandolin, cello, string bass and percussion). These used a largely Middle Eastern idiom, though European melodic influence and even a ‘crooning’ vocal style were sometimes present in gambus songs (see Orkes).

Indonesia, §VIII, 1: Pan-Indonesian musical developments: Popular music

(iii) 1942–9.

Japanese soldiers invaded Indonesia at the beginning of 1942; in March of that year they achieved control of the colony and expelled the Dutch. The years of military occupation that followed, though a period of hardship for most Indonesians, were stimulating for popular music. The Japanese banned forms of music and dance that were obviously Western in origin or association. Suddenly the whole repertory of tangos, foxtrots, jazz, Hawaiian music and the like was off-limits; this led to intensive composition in the kroncong and langgam kroncong forms. During the four-year revolution that followed the proclamation of independence in 1945, these forms (along with marches and military songs) remained dominant in popular music. After independence was achieved, many of the songs of the 1940s (and, by extension, the stratified kroncong idiom in which they were performed) became imbued with nostalgia for the heroism, excitement and dedication of the revolution. These songs, sometimes expressing patriotic sentiments and sometimes depicting romance shadowed by war and privation, now constitute a distinct repertory known as lagu perjuangan (‘songs of the struggle’).

Indonesia, §VIII, 1: Pan-Indonesian musical developments: Popular music

(iv) 1950–65.

After the revolution, explicit imitation of Western popular music re-emerged in Indonesia under the name hiburan (‘entertainment’). Mexican and Latin American traits such as the cha cha cha rhythm and the inclusion of maracas and bongos were in vogue. Also during this period the idea of targeting adolescents as a principal market for the consumption of entertainment took hold in Indonesia. ‘Smooth’ American youth-market singers (e.g. Connie Francis, Pat Boone) became popular and were imitated by Indonesian singers. The government, working through the national radio network Radio Republik Indonesia (RRI) and its record-producing affiliate, Lokananta, attempted to counter this tendency by national promotion of kroncong and a new genre known as hiburan daerah (‘regional entertainment’). The lyrics of hiburan daerah were in regional languages, sometimes sung to melodies from local traditions or, more often, to newly composed melodies; the arrangements were in Western (often Latin-inflected) idioms and were played by cocktail-lounge combos. The hope was that use of a musical lingua franca could overcome the inevitable parochiality of the regional languages. Performers were based in Jakarta, not in the regions. The genre was largely supported by government subsidy, though the Minangkabau style of hiburan daerah (from West Sumatra) enjoyed independent commercial success as well.

In this period, the distinction between kroncong asli (‘true’ kroncong, as shown in Table 19) and langgam kroncong (Table 20) largely disappeared; anything played in the stratified kroncong idiom and using the kroncong string-band instrumentation (sometimes augmented by transverse flute or piano) was considered kroncong. Kroncong was supported and subsidized by the government, similar to hiburan daerah but with the difference that kroncong actually had a wide and enthusiastic audience. In the 1950s the harmonic rhythm of kroncong slowed again, as it had after World War I: the typical tempo of the chords became four times slower than it had been in the earliest recordings. A compensating complication of melody and figuration also occurred: melodies became more florid and chromatic, and the middle and upper strata doubled or quadrupled in rhythmic density.

In the 1950s the idiom and instrumentation of kroncong were applied to a new repertory of songs in langgam form, sung in Javanese and using a minor scale in tempered tuning to approximate a Javanese pélog scale. One of the most prolific composers of these langgam Jawa was Andjar Any (b 1936); one of the best-known singers was Waldjinah.

In the late 1950s and early 60s, guitar bands imitating the Everly Brothers, the Beatles and similar groups sprang up. In his 1959 Independence Day address, President Sukarno disparaged Western popular music and its Indonesian imitations as ‘ngak-ngik-ngok’ music; although this lacked the legal force of a ban, it was taken as such by government officials. Indonesian singers continued, however, to perform Western songs and Indonesian songs in Western style, to the government's increasing displeasure. In 1965 the government went as far as putting a popular group, Koes Bersaudara, in prison, but they were released a month later in the wake of the murderous turmoil that brought down Sukarno.

A separate stream of popular music in this period stemmed from Indian and Malaysian film music and popular songs. Indonesian-language songs were recorded using melodic and stylistic inflections from Hindi film songs; one of the most popular of these was Boneka dari India, a hit of the late 1950s. Malaysian songs shared some of these Indian inflections but also had a generalized ‘Melayu’ quality that was believed to be indigenous to the east coast of Sumatra as well as peninsular Malaysia. In fact, the connection of Malaysian film and popular music of the 1950s to the lagu Melayu asli of Sumatra is very tenuous. The East Javanese singer Effendi (also known as Said Effendi) became famous as a singer of Melayu songs in the manner of the Malaysian star P. Ramlee. These two styles, Indian and Malaysian, coalesced in the mid- and late 1960s to become the source of the popular and influential Indonesian genre dangdut.

The orkes harmonium died out during the upheavals of the 1940s. Gambus (the music of the orkes gambus, not the plucked lute itself) survived but lost whatever European traits it had, becoming more demonstratively Arabic in character and hence symbolic of Islam, although the song lyrics do not necessarily have any explicit religious content.

Indonesia, §VIII, 1: Pan-Indonesian musical developments: Popular music

(v) 1965 to the late 1990s.

Dangdut emerged as the music of the urban lower class, at first in Jakarta and later in other cities as well. As most of the urban poor were (and are) Muslim, the frame of reference in dangdut lyrics was popular Islam, but the songs were not explicitly religious in the early phase. Instead they tended to be flirtatious or to refer conventionally to poverty and misfortune. At first the musical idiom was precisely the mix of Indian and Malaysian film song traits mentioned above. The dangdut ensemble was called a ‘Melayu orchestra’ (orkes Melayu); this term persists even today. (It is hard to make any clear connection between dangdut and the music of the Melayu ethnic group; more likely ‘Melayu’ here means the Melayu- or Indonesian-speaking urban poor, as distinguished from Javanese speakers and other immigrants to Jakarta, who were perceived as having their own music, different from dangdut.) A prominent feature was tablā-like drumming with a characteristic rhythm in which a low sound just before the strong beat is followed by a heavy, higher-pitched sound on the strong beat; this rhythm can be imitated in syllables as ‘dang-DUT’ and has been plausibly suggested as the source of the genre's name.

In the early 1970s, Oma (later Rhoma) Irama (b 1947), the star who was to dominate dangdut for the next 25 years, became prominent. Rhoma instituted several important innovations: he reduced the Indian and Malaysian elements in dangdut, replacing them with inflections from the Middle East and, more pervasively, American rock music, and he broadened and deepened the content of lyrics. Instead of the coy dialogues and conventional laments of early dangdut songs (including those sung by Oma Irama and his first singing partner, Elvy Sukaesih), Rhoma introduced explicit social protest of a rather general but, by Indonesian standards, biting sort: e.g. ‘the rich get richer and the poor get poorer’. For a period in the 1980s, at the height of his popularity, he was banned from television (at that time entirely government-controlled) because of the sting of such criticism. From the mid-1970s on, Rhoma also began to insert Islamic religious messages into his songs.

In the 1970s and the first half of the 1980s, dangdut retained its status as the music of the urban poor. In later years, however, it became more glamorous, and its stars became extremely wealthy. Rhoma himself joined the ruling political party, and the element of social protest in his songs virtually disappeared. Despite the religious messages favoured by Rhoma, the genre is predominantly secular. Musically, there are two streams: one, deriving from Rhoma, has a large component of rock; the other, exemplified by singers such as Mansyur S., continues to reflect the genre's origins in Indian film music. Dangdut reaches its widest audience through recordings, films and broadcast media, all emanating almost exclusively from Jakarta. The superstars also perform in live extravaganzas, and there are countless local bands, unknown outside their own districts, that perform for regional night fairs and local celebrations.

Aside from dangdut, the other principal category of Indonesian popular music after 1965 is music in the styles and idioms of Western youth-orientated popular music, sung in Indonesian (this category has no comprehensive name in Indonesia). With the accession of the Suharto government (the ‘New Order’), official disapproval of Western and Western-influenced music abated, and from then on Western-model music has followed the trends of mainstream American and European popular music, albeit with a time-lag. The most commercially successful variety is known as pop Indonesia, which draws on sweet, slick and generally non-confrontational varieties of Western popular music. Other categories are known by English names (rock, punk rock, country, disco, rap), although the musical correspondence to their Western counterparts is not always exact. As with dangdut, the Western-model musics are disseminated mainly through commercial media rather than live performance, and the centre of production and distribution is Jakarta.

The Western-model genres have always been largely the property of comparatively affluent or educated youth, particularly those aspiring to elements of the lifestyle believed to be characteristic of Europe and America (dangdut, which originally belonged to the urban poor, has also become acceptable to these more upscale groups). The principal theme of pop lyrics is romantic love; despite occasional censure from official sources, one of the most common types of pop love song is the lagu cengeng (‘weepy song’; see Yampolsky, 1989). The anger and intentional outrageousness typical of some rock music in the West is also found, somewhat muted, in Indonesian rock and punk rock, but not in pop Indonesia. In the period from the mid-1980s to the early 1990s, the social protest that had vanished from dangdut re-emerged in the songs of ‘country’ singers, most notably Iwan Fals.

Both Islam and the various forms of Christianity in Indonesia have produced religious popular music, which is ‘popular’ in so far as it is marketed in the same media with the same techniques and performed in the same manner (often by the same performers) as secular popular music. Christian popular music, known as pop rohani (‘spiritual pop’), uses the idioms of pop Indonesia. The Islamic qasidah (qasīda) or qasidah moderen (Arps, 1996) is typically performed by a lead singer (usually female), a female chorus and an orchestra of guitars, violins, keyboards and percussion, including tambourines with jingles and the tablā-like bongos of dangdut. The instrumentation and the instrumental accompaniment combine features of gambus and dangdut. (Qasidah rebana, an earlier form of popular qasidah, used only frame drums to accompany the female singers.) The singing involves solo statements answered by a unison choral refrain. The lyrics typically affirm Islamic standards of morality and daily behaviour.

Hiburan daerah, the Old Order's attempt to develop Western-model popular music in regional languages, died out when the New Order took over. Pop Indonesia and dangdut, on the other hand, disseminated without government sponsorship, inspired young people in every corner of Indonesia to write their own pop and dangdut songs using local languages, and audio-cassette technology (introduced at the beginning of the 1970s) made it possible for these songs to be recorded cheaply and sold to local consumers. As a result, there are many varieties of regional pop and regional dangdut all over the country. Most regional dangdut styles and some regional pop styles are basically imitative of the Jakarta models. Some regional pop styles, however, make use of local melodies (lagu daerah) cast in the Western popular idiom, typically accompanied by strummed guitar, with perhaps some traditional instruments added for local flavour. In Christianized areas, where techniques of harmony are familiar, at least to singers with experience in the church choirs, the lagu daerah are often arranged for vocal group (the English term is used) in three-or four-part harmony. Strummed guitar accompaniment is again typical.

There is also one instance of what may be called ‘traditional regional popular music’: this is jaipongan, from the Sundanese region of West Java. Jaipongan, like any popular music, is geared to and dependent upon media dissemination, but its idiom is that of Sundanese gamelan, uninfluenced by Western or any other foreign music. Aside from a transient flurry of national exposure in the early 1980s, jaipongan has been popular only among Sundanese; but apart from this regional or ethnic limitation it has followed the marketing and developmental patterns of dangdut, pop Indonesia and other national popular musics.

Indonesia, §VIII, 1: Pan-Indonesian musical developments: Popular music

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

J. van Maurik: Indrukken van een ‘totok’: indische typen en schetsen (Amsterdam, 1897)

A.T. Manusama: Krontjong als muziekinstrument, als melodie en als gezang (Batavia, 1919)

A.T. Manusama: Komedie Stamboel of de Oost-Indische opera (Weltevreden, 1922)

O. Knaap: ‘A. Mahieu’, Tong Tong, xv (1971), no.16, pp.6–8; no.21, pp.8–9

P.R. Abdurachman: ‘“Portuguese” Presence in Jakarta’, Masyarakat Indonesia, ii (1975), 89–101

E. Heins: ‘Krontjong and Tanjidor: Two Cases of Urban Folk Music in Jakarta’, AsM, vii/1 (1975), 20–32

B. Kornhauser: ‘In Defence of Kroncong’, Studies in Indonesian Music, ed. M.J. Kartomi (Clayton, Victoria, 1978), 104–83

C.L. Camoens: ‘The Wayang Parsi, Tiruan Wayang Parsi, Komidi Melayu and the Bangsawan, 1887–1895’, Malaysia in History, xxv (1982), 1–20

W.H. Frederick: ‘Rhoma Irama and the Dangdut Style: Aspects of Contemporary Indonesian Popular Culture’, Indonesia, no.34 (1982), 103–30

M. Lohanda: ‘Dangdut: sebuah pencarian identitas’ [Dangdut: a search for identity], Seni dalam masyarakat Indonesia, ed. E. Segyawati and S. Damono (Jakarta, 1983), 137–43

P. Manuel and R. Baier: ‘Jaipongan: Indigenous Popular Music of West Java’, AsM, xviii/1 (1986), 91–110

Tonggeret, perf. I. Hadidjah, Nonesuch 9 79173-2 (1987) [jaipongan]

S. Abeyasekere: Jakarta: a History (Singapore, 1987, 2/1989)

A.J.M. Möller: Batavia, a Swinging Town! Dansorkesten en jazzbands in Batavia, 1922–1949 (The Hague, 1987)

S. Piper and S. Jabo: ‘Musik Indonesia: daro 1950-an hingga 1980-an’ [Indonesian music: from the 1950s to the 1980s], Prisma, xvi/5 (1987), 8–19

P. Yampolsky: Lokananta: a Discography of the National Recording Company of Indonesia, 1957–1985 (Madison, WI, 1987)

Street Music of Java, Original Music OMCD 006 (1989) [keroncong, dangdut, langgam Jawa etc.]

M. Hatch: ‘Popular Music in Indonesia’, World Music, Politics and Social Change, ed. S. Frith (Manchester, 1989), 47–67

P. Yampolsky: ‘Hati Yang Luka, an Indonesian Hit’, Indonesia, no.47 (1989), 1–17

Music of Indonesia, ii: Indonesian Popular Music: Kroncong, Dangdut and Langgam Jawa, Smithsonian Folkways SF 40056 (1991)

Keadilan, perf. Nasida Ria, Piranha PIR 26-2 (n.d.) [qasidah modérèn]

B. Susanto: ‘Dangdut Sekatenan: penguasa, “agama”, dan musik rakyat di Yogyakarta’ [Dangdut at Sekaten: power, ‘religion’ and people’s music in Yogyakarta], Tantangan kemanusiaan universal: kenangan 70 tahun Dick Hartoko, ed. G. Moedjanto, B. Rahmanto and J. Sudarminta (Yogyakarta, 1992), 195–224

J. Tambajong: Ensiklopedi musik (Jakarta, 1992)

J. Hellwig: ‘Jaipongan: the Making of a New Tradition’, Performance in Java and Bali, ed. B. Arps (London, 1993), 47–58

Tan Sooi Beng: Bangsawan: a Social and Stylistic History of Popular Malay Opera (Singapore, 1993)

C. Capwell: ‘Contemporary Manifestations of Yemeni-Derived Song and Dance in Indonesia’, YTM, xxvii (1995), 76–89

C. Pioquinto: ‘Dangdut at Sekaten: Female Representations in Live Performance’, Review of Indonesian and Malaysian Affairs, xxix (1995), 59–89

B. Arps: ‘To Propagate Morals through Popular Music: the Indonesian Qasida Moderen’, Qasida Poetry in Islamic Asia and Africa, i, ed. S. Sperl and C. Shackle (Leiden, 1996), 389–409

G. Simatupang: The Development of Dangdut and its Meanings (thesis, Monash U., 1996)

T. Seebass: ‘Presence and Absence of Portuguese Musical Elements in Indonesia’, Portugal and the World, ed. S. El-Shawan Castelo-Branco (Lisbon, 1997), 227–51

C. Lockard: Dance of Life: Popular Music and Politics in Southeast Asia (Honolulu, 1998)

Indonesia, §VIII: Pan-Indonesian musical developments

2. New composition.

The meeting of Indonesian and European cultural traditions in the 20th century led to the emergence of composers who developed their own personal and unique styles of expression.

Four composers pioneered the idea of a meeting between traditional musical cultures and Western art music, an idea that has persisted in new Indonesian music. R.M. Soewardi Suryaningrat (later known as Ki Hadjar Dewantara) and R.M. Soerjopoetro set out to ‘translate’ gamelan music into Western musical forms in the compositions Kinanthi Sandung (1916) for voice and piano and Rarjwo Sarojo (1916–17) for voice and violin, respectively. In these compositions the two composers maintained the freedom to improvise around a Central Javanese balungan (skeletal melody), representing gamelan pitches in terms of their Western near-equivalences.

R. Atmadarsana and R. Soehardjo also ‘translated’ gamelan music in works such as Wirangrong (1922) for two-part choir and Birvadda Warawidya (1924) for three-part choir. Soehardjo used traditional tembang (sung poetry) and gendhing (gamelan composition) melodies such as Pangkur, Tarupala and Clunthang, while employing Western contrapuntal techniques and polyphonic textures .

On 28 October 1928, young Indonesians from a variety of cultural and political organizations adopted the pledge ‘Satu nusa, satu bangsa dan satu bahasa’ (‘one land, one nation, one language’). At that time, the song Indonesia Raya (‘Indonesia the Great’) by W.R. Supratman, with a Western diatonic melody, was adopted as a national anthem. After Indonesia gained independence in 1949, music quickly became the subject of heated debate between prominent musicians and intellectuals whose background was in Javanese gamelan, and non-Javanese musicians from a Western music background. Both sides were anxious to promote their own music culture as the official national musical language. From then on, contemporary Indonesian composition became a political phenomenon.

Musicians of the 1940s from Tapanuli (North Sumatra) and Gorontalo, working within a diatonic idiom and including Amir Pasaribu, Liberty Manik and J.A. Dungga, not only believed that a national music should not be based on Javanese or any other ‘ethnic music’, but that it should be based on a ‘new Indonesian music’ that was best represented by the diatonic music of academic composers such as Cornel Simanjuntak and Pasaribu himself. This viewpoint was reinforced by the official adoption of Indonesia Raya as the national anthem and by the lifestyle of the Indonesian élite in the 1950s, which was orientated towards the West in its ideology of liberal democracy.

At the same time, Ki Hadjar Dewantara was Minister of Education and Culture in the first cabinet; Javanese intellectuals, among them many who held government posts, succeeded in ‘smuggling’ his concept of culture into the 1945 constitutional ordinances in the following form: ‘National culture consists of the peaks of regional cultures’. Dewantara's ideas were similarly applied to the problem of national music at the Second Cultural Congress in Bandung in 1951, resulting in the declaration that ‘national music consists of the merging of peaks of regional musics’.

The conflict between these two entrenched views of music at this period was made explicit in the establishment of Konservatori Karawitan Indonesia (KOKAR) in Surakarta for the teaching of karawitan and Sekolah Musik Indonesia (SMI) in Yogyakarta for the teaching of Western art music. At KOKAR the government, which sided with Dewantara's views, put in place an agenda for the creation of a new Indonesian music that had its roots in regional musics.

This conflict was complicated by the emergence of the artists' groups Lembaga Kebudayaan Rakyat (LEKRA, ‘People's Cultural League’), affiliated to the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI), and the Lembaga Kebudayaan Nasional (LKN, ‘National Cultural League’) affiliated to the Indonesian Nationalist Party (PNI). The LKN was endorsed by Sukarno, the first President of Indonesia, to put in place a people's ideology as a basis for their project of nationalism in the field of the arts. The emergence of a new generation of composers who accepted this ideology caused the world of Indonesian contemporary music to go through a new phase of transformation at the beginning of the 1960s.

In the world of contemporary gamelan music this new phase was marked by the emergence of pieces with lyrics that referred to the political ideologies of the Sukarno regime. One of these gamelan composers was Ki Wasitodipuro (see Wasitodiningrat, Kanjeng Radèn Tumenggung), a pupil of Soeryopoetro. In these pieces Wasitodipuro used titles and lyrics that referred to the political wisdom of Sukarno's inclination to the left, for example Nekolim (ex.24), USDEK and Modernisasi desa (‘village modernization’).

While the position of contemporary diatonic music became stronger, there also emerged a new generation of composers connected with LEKRA who wrote vocal music with political lyrics. Sometimes these lyrics were taken from the poems of writers connected with LEKRA. Outstanding among the composers were Subronto K. Atmodjo and Sudharnoto. Various works by these two were published by LEKRA, for example Asia Afrika Bersatu (‘The unity of Asia and Africa’ 1962) by Sudharnoto (ex.25).

The emergence of a new ideology pushed diatonic musicians with liberal ideas to criticize their ‘comrades’. This conflict became sharper when a group of liberal artists produced the ‘Manifes Kebudayaan’ (MANIKEBU, ‘cultural manifesto’). Binsar Sitompul, a diatonic composer of the 1940s, became a prime mover in this group, which stressed the value of universal humanism and followed the political opinions of LEKRA and LKN. The climax of this conflict came with the coup on 30 September 1965 that brought about the fall of the Sukarno regime and ended the whole drama in the artistic realm. LEKRA composers such as Subronto K. Atmodjo and Sudharnoto were imprisoned for a number of years.

With the end of the conflict between left-wing and liberal composers and between pentatonic and diatonic composers, along with the de-politicization of the arts under the Suharto government, from 1966 the world of contemporary Indonesian music entered a new phase, which stressed freedom of expression separated from ideological ties. One problem still remaining for composers was how to express Indonesian national identity within the context of the worldwide integration of contemporary music. This was a greater burden for composers using a diatonic musical language derived from Western music.

The issue, in fact, had already become noticeable in the works of Amir Pasaribu and Cornel Simanjuntak in the 1940s. In his efforts to find a special Indonesian idiom, Pasaribu tried to make use of pentatonic scales from gamelan music as melodic material in his compositions, while Simanjuntak, who composed mainly vocal music, used the characteristic elements of the rhythm of the Indonesian language to create a basic theory of melody. Composers of the 1950s and after who built on the approach of Amir Pasaribu include Trisutji Kamal, Jaya Suprana and Yazeed Djamin.

Diatonic composers also felt a large discrepancy between their world and that of traditional musics. Frans Haryadi was the composer most concerned with this problem in the 1960s, particularly as he was both a composer and an ethnomusicologist. In 1974 he began to experiment with gamelan players to produce a new approach to creating compositions that included gamelan and other traditional instruments. From this collaboration came the dance piece Kenangan (‘Remembrance of times past’). In this work, Haryadi planned the structure of the composition as a single major line, while the gamelan players were given the opportunity to improvise according to traditional principles. Consequently, although the work was written by a composer with a background in academic music, it upheld traditional musical idioms.

Frans Haryadi's desire to bridge the gap between traditional and contemporary musics in the ‘New Order’ period (Suharto regime) was taken a stage further in 1979 with the foundation of the Pekan Komponis Muda (‘young composers group’) by the Dewan Kesenian Jakarta (Jakarta Arts Council), which gave birth to a new generation of composers from backgrounds of Sudanese, Javanese, Balinese and Minang (West Sumatra) traditional musics. These composers started to write pieces with the aim of using traditional instruments as sound-sources. With this goal, these composers freed themselves from the idioms and rules of the traditional musics that formed their backgrounds. As a substitute they centred their music on experiments with form, frequently very theatrical in nature, and experiments with timbre, exploiting all the possibilities for producing sound from traditional instruments using new techniques. Some of them also created new instruments or further developed the mechanical aspects of traditional instruments.

Another distinguishing feature of these composers, especially apparent in the works that emerged during the 1990s, is a tendency to borrow traditional musical idioms from beyond their own ethnic group. Consequently (though unintentionally perhaps) the musical language to which Ki Hadjar Dewantara aspired has eventually become a national musical language but with a more multicultural basis. Composers of the 1970s and later, from a traditional musical background, include al. Suwardi, I Wayan Sadra, Djaduk Ferianto, Dedy Satya Hadianda and M. Halim, from Surakarta, Bali, Yogyakarta, West Java and Padang Panjang (West Sumatra) respectively.

Beginning in the mid-1970s a number of composers have emerged in the field of diatonic music who have written works exploring traditional musical idioms and instruments. Outstanding among these have been Sapto Raharjo, Inisisri, Tony Prabowo and ben m. Pasaribu, from Yogyakarta, Jakarta, Jakarta and Medan (North Sumatra) respectively. A number of composers who have been interested in the problem of choosing modes have composed by collaborating with traditional musicians to the extent that their works have become a meeting ground for traditional and contemporary music (ex.26).

The presence of composers such as Sutanto and Harry Roesli has created an increasingly dynamic situation. Starting from the environs of the village of Mendut in Central Java, Sutanto, a composer with an academic background, creates work in cooperation with the villagers, producing complex and unusual texts. The work of Harry Roesli (see fig.25) is important not only because his works can bridge the world of contemporary music with Indonesian pop music, but also because he also uses music as a medium for comment on the social and political problems that have emerged during the New Order, especially concerning the political wisdom of the Suharto regime. More than three decades after the establishment of the New Order, the world of Indonesian contemporary music is returning to the area of politics, with all the risks that this entails.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

J.A. Dungga and L.Manik: Musik di Indonesia dan beberapa persoalannya [Music in Indonesia and several issues] (Jakarta, 1952)

J. Becker: Traditional Music in Modern Java: Gamelan in a Changing Society (Honolulu, 1980)

S. Hardjana, ed.: Enam tahun Pekan Komponis Muda (1979–1985) [Six years of the Young Composers Festival] (Jakarta, 1986)

Asmat Dream: New Music Indonesia, i, Lyrichord LYRCD 7415 (c1992) [compositions by H. Roesli and others]

Mana 689: New Music Indonesia, ii, Lyrichord LYRCD 7420 (c1992) [compositions by I Wayan Sadra and others]

Karya: New Music Indonesia, iii, Lyrichord LYRCD 7421 (c1993) [compositions by I Wayan Sadra]

Indy, (Paul Marie Théodore) Vincent d’

(b Paris, 27 Mar 1851; d Paris,2 Dec 1931). French composer, teacher, conductor and editor of early music. His famed veneration for Beethoven and Franck has unfortunately obscured the individual character of his own compositions, particularly his fine orchestral pieces descriptive of southern France. As a teacher his influence was enormous and wideranging, with benefits for French music far outweighing the charges of dogmatism and political intolerance.

1. Life.

2. Teaching and criticism.

ANDREW THOMSON (text, bibliography), ROBERT ORLEDGE (work-list)

1. Life.

D’Indy came from a military aristocratic family from the Ardèche region, a fact of the greatest importance in understanding his lifelong nationalist and right-wing political position. His mother died in childbirth, and he was brought up by his paternal grandmother, Thérèse (née de Chorier). Her strict regime, however, was mitigated by deep affection: she was not the tyrannical ogress of received opinion. D’Indy took lessons in piano from Louis Diémer and theory from Albert Lavignac; while showing definite promise, he showed more interest as a boy in military matters and the life of his hero Napoleon. At 18, having passed his baccalauréat, he was sent on an extended trip to Italy, which confirmed his growing, if unfocussed sense of himself as a potential composer, rather than an army officer; this experience also fostered a permanent love of Dante, which helped form his philosophy of life. Nevertheless, his patriotic instincts impelled him to volunteer for active service in the National Guard during the Prussian siege of Paris in the freezing winter of 1870–71.

After this upheaval, his father Antonin insisted on his studying law at the Sorbonne, from which he was rescued by the death of Thérèse and a handsome legacy. Music thereafter was to be his life’s work, and, on his friend Duparc’s recommendation, he joined Franck’s organ class at the Conservatoire. There, organ playing took second place to a composition course unrivalled, by French standards, in its depth and thoroughness. A slow and laborious developer, d’Indy gained only a premier accessit on graduating in 1875. Anxious to widen his horizons, he had already made a vacation tour of Germany in 1873, taking part in Liszt’s piano masterclasses in Weimar, and experiencing the concert and operatic life of Dresden, Vienna and Munich. Enterprisingly, he attended the 1876 première of Wagner’s Ring at Bayreuth, and was emotionally overwhelmed by Die Walküre and Götterdammerung. Meanwhile in Paris he studied relentlessly to acquire solid compositional techniques and complete musicianship, gaining invaluable experience as second timpanist in Edouard Colonne’s orchestra, and subsequently as salaried chorus master. These efforts were rewarded in 1885 when he won the prestigious Grand Prix de la Ville de Paris for his cantata Le chant de la cloche. Two years later, his best known work, the Symphonie sur un chant montagnard français, received its première.

Though personally ambitious, he also possessed a keen sense of noblesse oblige, actively encouraging his contemporaries, such as Chabrier and Fauré, and, together with Chausson, becoming joint secretary of the Société Nationale Musicale in 1885. Simultaneously he acted as musical adviser to the Brussels-based Circle XX, which promoted new developments in the visual arts, music and literature. Of the younger generation, Debussy and Dukas gained his admiration, particularly for their respective L’après-midi d’un faune and L’apprenti sorcier, works which he later took on conducting tours abroad. The 1890s were years of crusade. Grave dissatisfaction with the anachronistic teaching methods of the Conservatoire and the constricting requirements of the Prix de Rome competition induced him to join Charles Bordes and Alexandre Guilmant in founding the Schola Cantorum in 1894; he took over as full director in 1904. The Schola initially set out to propagate reforms to the music of the Catholic liturgy, with special emphasis on Gregorian chant and Palestrinan polyphony; soon it developed into a complete musical academy in its own right. In these years, d’Indy was also occupied with two ambitious music dramas, Fervaal and L’étranger.

Disturbed by the Dreyfus affair, he had become increasingly nationalistic and anti-Semitic, and with the political author Maurice Barrès he joined the Ligue de la Patrie Française, which sought a common definition of France to heal its cultural fragmentation. The death of his wife Isabelle in 1905 removed the stabilizing influence in his life, and thereafter he became increasingly vulnerable to politically motivated attacks on the Schola Cantorum and apprehensive of dangerously decadent trends in contemporary music in both France and Germany. Consequently he became increasingly reactionary and dogmatic in his aesthetic ideas. His biography of his beloved master Franck (1906) established the persuasive myth of a medieval saint-like figure; the Franckian cyclic symphony he interpreted, in Ruskinian terms, as structurally analogous to a Gothic cathedral.

The outbreak of World War I in 1914 he welcomed both as a necessary confrontation with the German menace and as a purifying force for his own country. Rejected for active military service at the age of 63, he served on cultural missions to allied countries, and succeeded in completing his third music drama, La légende de Saint-Christophe. Peace brought new problems, however. Financial difficulties caused by massive inflation induced him to increase his regular load of conducting tours throughout Europe and America. Yet remarriage in 1920 to the much younger Caroline Janson brought a true creative rebirth, witnessed in the serene Mediterranean-inspired compositions of his final decade. At the same time, determined not to be marginalized as a relic of the past, he engaged forcefully with modernistic developments; there was vigorous criticism – highly prejudiced and not always well informed – of Les Six, Schoenberg and Varèse, as well as such supposedly dehumanizing phenomena as pianolas and gramophones. Indomitable to the end, he continued to compose, conduct, and direct the Schola Cantorum right up to his brief final illness.

2. Teaching and criticism.

D’Indy’s critical awareness began with his own invaluable lessons with Franck, which emphasized the fundamental importance of tonal architecture and the clear deployment of themes, as exemplified in the works of Bach and Beethoven. At Weimar, Liszt introduced him to the notion of an historically based pedagogy, by following which students could discover for themselves the evolution of their art through its successive stages. D’Indy thus glimpsed the possibility of Franck’s timeless methods enriched with wider historical perspectives, and the resulting synthesis was first tried out successfully in the 1880s with his first pupil, Albéric Magnard, who laboriously worked on his first two symphonies and opera Yolande under d’Indy’s guidance.

In 1892 d’Indy sat on a state commission to propose reforms to the Paris Conservatoire’s curriculum, but the separate report he submitted – advocating a rather idealistic two-tier system of instrumental teaching, with pure technical instruction followed by in-depth study of aesthetic and interpretative questions – was not acted on. Declining a Conservatoire professorship in disgust, he took the opportunity to develop his own scheme of composition teaching at the Schola Cantorum, attracting increasingly large numbers of students from the Latin-speaking world: France, Spain, Romania and South America. These courses proved invaluable for late developers like Roussel, and those with special needs like Satie. On the other hand, the anarchic Varèse reacted violently against his master’s paternalistic manner. Yet d’Indy operated his seemingly dogmatic system with considerable flexibility, being concerned with the students’ individual needs and problems, and encouraging active participation in class. Indeed, as director he conceived the Schola essentially as a community devoted to fostering a modern social art, according to his enlightened Roman Catholic philosophy. Novel anti-bureaucratic principles included the abolition of prizes, a wide social mix of students – all being obliged to sing in the choir – and full admission of women to all courses.

D’Indy’s composition courses were subsequently edited by his assistants Auguste Sérieyx and Guy de Lioncourt as Cours de composition musicale, which proved highly influential outside the walls of the Schola, to be studied, for example, by Messiaen at the Conservatoire and by Villa-Lobos in Brazil. At its core, in the second part, are extensive sections devoted to sonata and symphonic structures, derived above all from the practices of d’Indy’s hero figures Beethoven and Franck. These structures were held to embody eternal humanistic and ethical values, a bulwark against the formal flux and harmonic sensationalism of Debussy’s Pelléas et Mélisande and Strauss’s expressionistic anarchy in Salome and Electra. Above all, the unifying device of cyclic themes is invested with theological symbolism, as representing the Holy Trinity and the idea of perfection. For all its Catholic ethos, however, the work’s fully comprehensive and unified presentation of musical history, theory and analysis owed much to current scientific positivism.

Inevitably, in the context of the secular and increasingly politicized Third Republic, the Schola attracted a great deal of controversy and hostility; despite its admirably progressive intentions, it became increasingly regarded as a reactionary and anti-Semitic institution. Moreover, d’Indy’s dogmatic emphasis on the teaching of counterpoint (and refusal to acknowledge harmony as a separate subject of study) was irresponsibly exploited by the young critic Emile Vuillermoz, who in 1905 unleashed a fatuous journalistic war. According to his ideological distortion, the ‘verticalist’ party of Debussy, Ravel and the Impressionist school represented the future with their cult of experimental harmonies and orchestral effects, whereas the ‘horizontalists’ of the Schola remained imprisoned in their outdated formal and contrapuntal procedures. Wisdom, however, had prevailed in Fauré’s 1905 reforms of the Conservatoire, which belatedly adopted d’Indy’s ideas of historically based composition courses and strengthened contrapuntal studies.

In its work of reviving forgotten masterpieces of the medieval, Renaissance and Baroque eras, the Schola Cantorum justly won widespread acclaim. Of particular note were d’Indy’s concert performances, with student forces, of Monteverdi’s Orfeo and L’incoronazione di Poppea in his own editions from manuscript sources discovered in Italian libraries by Romain Rolland. D’Indy also contributed to the enterprising Durand edition of Rameau’s works with Hippolyte et Aricie and Dardanus; these, together with Castor et Pollux, were also given at the Schola’s concerts, winning the approval of Debussy.

3. Works.

D’Indy’s somewhat academic corpus of chamber music (including three completed string quartets) is generally less interesting than his orchestral works which, while always manifesting his concern for the utmost structural coherence, invariably contain important programmatic or symbolic elements; above all, nature painting brought out his full imaginative mastery of orchestral texture. His major apprentice work was Wallenstein (1870–81), a group of three interrelated concert overtures on Schiller’s drama. Although it cost him an enormous amount of time and labour, the result is all too derivative in style, with his Wagner obsession apparent in heroic themes blatantly adapted from the ‘forging’ and ‘sword’ motives in the Ring. Increasing refinement of technique was achieved in this early German-inspired period, as in the Weberian La forêt enchantée (1878). Impressions of medieval Nuremburg (visited in 1873) lay behind the conventionally romantic cantata Le chant de la cloche (1879–83). Employing Wagner’s leitmotif technique, this work is remarkable mainly for its bold orchestral realizations of a variety of bell sonorities, to which two pianos contribute. The finale’s assembly of civic worthies to judge Wilhelm’s last bell is very obviously indebted to Die Meistersinger.

Happily, d’Indy’s ancestral roots in the Ardèche ultimately proved stronger than the enchantments of Bayreuth, and the Symphonie sur un chant montagnard français for piano and orchestra (1886) proved to be a breakthrough in the development of his personal style. Though Franckian in its symphonic structure, with two cyclic themes, the work’s superb orchestral invention evokes the mountainous terrain and sounds of nature. The solo piano, Lisztian in its Impressionistic textures, is essentially decorative and interacts with rather than opposes the orchestra. Likewise, his long gestated music drama Fervaal (1889–95) is set in the Ardèche, in the remote era of the Saracen invasions, and portrays a conflict of religious civilizations. Though conceived on a Wagnerian scale, with pervasive use of leitmotifs, the opera also owes much to Meyerbeer (d’Indy’s boyhood idol) in its local and exotic colour, as well as in its assured handling of crowd scenes. Moreover, it follows the example of Berlioz rather than of Wagner in its orchestral technique of highlighting individual sonorities. D’Indy’s invention is at its boldest in the earth goddess Kaito’s prophesy of the new religion of light in Act 2, using extraordinary sequences of whole-tone harmonies and parallel triads to create an atmosphere of awe and mystery.

During the following years, d’Indy’s compositions display a structural radicalism as if in opposition to the pedagogical strictness of the Schola’s courses. Istar's novel set of orchestral variations in reverse order – moving from complexity towards simplicity, and ending with a bare unison statement of the theme – aptly illustrates the Assyrian legend of Istar gradually divesting herself as she passes through the seven doors of the underworld to release her beloved. The piece was subsequently choreographed with great success, notably by Ida Rubinstein in the 1920s.

D’Indy’s urge to confront the scientific materialism of his age generated the unusual opera L’étranger (1898–1901), in part an expression of contempt for Zola’s and Bruneau’s doctrine of realism. Set in a fishing community on the Atlantic coast, L’étranger is a deliberately hybrid conception, opposing banal verismo scenes to others of a mystical, symbolist character owing something to Maeterlinck; in the later scenes the redeeming figure of the Stranger appears, characterized by two themes of liturgical type. For his intimate dialogues with Vita, a local girl, d’Indy adapted the psychological conversation technique of Ibsen. But the work’s outstanding feature is undeniably its vivid depiction of the sea, both in Vita’s pantheistic communings and in the final catastrophic storm scene, which uncannily anticipates Debussy’s La Mer.

The Ardèche reappears in Jour d’été à la montagne (1905), whose three movements depict the course of a day in the country, from sunrise to sunset. The music grows out of and finally returns to the primordial darkness of a C spread over six octaves, the closing section being more or less a palindrome of the opening. Also noteworthy are the advanced features of the orchestration; for example, piano and chromatic timpani graphically depict a brief clap of thunder in an almost Bartókian manner. By contrast, the Symphony in B (1902–3) exemplifies the grand canonical cyclic structures as taught at the Schola Cantorum, concluding with a fugal finale to restrain the initial motto theme’s tendency to generate subversive whole-tone harmonies and textures.

D’Indy’s politically reactionary beliefs are given full voice in his third music drama, La légende de Saint-Christophe (1908–15), a celebration of traditional Catholic regionalism as opposed to modern liberal democracy and capitalist values. The most notorious part, and at the same time the weakest, is the first act’s tasteless parade of false thinkers, scientists and artists united in their hatred of Christ and charity, in which stylistic features of Debussy and Stravinsky are ruthlessly parodied. However, an appropriately elevated tone is achieved thereafter. The second act’s magnificent symphonic poem represents Auférus’s disappointing journey in search of the King of Heaven, with clashing bell sonorities to evoke Papal Rome. The Ardèche becomes hallowed by the appearance of the Christ-child, whom Auférus unknowingly carries across a raging torrent (depicted by moto perpetuo chromatic semiquavers), thereby becoming St Christophe. Crucial dramatically are the convulsive, harshly dissonant scene of his baptism and that of the conversion of Nicéa, Queen of Pleasure, both accompanied by a chromatic chord sequence representing the waters of life, obviously derived from the magic fire music in Die Walküre. Appropriately, some Gregorian themes - Vexilla regis, Haec dies and Qui vult venire – also play a significant role in the spiritual drama.

The outstandingly poetic orchestral works of d’Indy’s Indian summer, Le poème des rivages (1919–21) and Diptyque méditerranéen (1925–6), atmospherically evoke the coasts and seascapes of the Mediterranean. Here d’Indy’s visual sense is at its most acute in the creation of translucent textures to realize the effects of changing light, and the music has a restrained warmth of feeling and colouristic beauty that totally undermine the standard image of the man as a bigoted, desiccated pedant. If outwardly his militaristic persona, addiction to polemics and urge to pedagogical systems represented the assertive traits in his character, a more subtle dimension is evidenced in his attraction to the Italian ‘primitive’ painters and late 19th-century symbolism, particularly the poetry of Mallarmé and the earlier music of Debussy. He was a man of contradiction and complexity.

WORKS

operas

op.

–	Les burgraves du Rhin (R. de Bonnières), 1869–72, inc.
–	Les maîtres-sonneurs (after G. Sand), project, 1874
–	Mahomet (after J.W. von Goethe), project, 1874
–	Les abencérages (after F.R. de Chateaubriand), project, 1874
–	Axel (d’Indy, after E. Tegnér), project, ?1878, only lib completed, later used as basis for Fervaal
–	Peau d’âne (féerie, after C. Perrault), project, 1879
–	L’organiste de Harlem (oc, 3, d’Indy), project, ?c1880, lib in F-Pn
14	Attendez-moi sous l’orme (oc, 1, J. Prével, de Bonnières, after J.F. Régnard), 1876–82, Paris, Opéra Comique (Favart), 11 Feb 1882
18	Le chant de la cloche, 1879–83, Brussels, Monnaie, 21 Nov 1912 [stage version of choral work]
40	Fervaal (action musicale, prol, 3, d’Indy), 1889–93, orchd 1893–5, Brussels, Monnaie, 12 March 1897
53	L’étranger (action musicale, 2, d’Indy), 1898–1901, Brussels, Monnaie, 7 Jan 1903
67	La légende de Saint-Christophe (drame sacré, 3, d’Indy, after J. de Voragine: Legenda aurea), 1908–15, Paris, Opéra, 9 June 1920
80	Le rêve de Cinyras (comédie musicale, 3, X. de Courville), 1922, orchd 1922–3, Paris, Petite Scène, 10 June 1927

orchestral

–	Symphony no.1 (Symphonie italienne), A, 1870–72, unpubd
–	La divine comédie, sym. poem after Dante, project, 1871
5	Jean Hundaye, sym., 1874–5, unpubd
6	Antoine et Cléopatre, ov. after W. Shakespeare, completed 1876, unpubd
8	La forêt enchantée (Harald), sym. legend after Uhland, 1878
12	Wallenstein, 3 sym. ovs. after F. Schiller, 1870–81: Le camp, Les piccolomini, 1873, rev. as Max et Thécla, 1881, La mort de Wallenstein
19	Lied, vc/va, orch, 1884
21	Saugefleurie, legend after de Bonnières, 1884
25	Symphonie sur un chant montagnard français (Symphonie cévenole), pf, orch, completed 1886
28	Sérénade et valse, 1885, op.17/3 also orchd after 1887, only frag. extant [after pf works opp.16/1 and 17/1]
31	Fantaisie sur des thèmes populaires français, ob, orch, 1888
34	Karadec (incid music, A. Alexandre), 1890
36	Tableaux de voyage, 1889, orchd 1892 [after pf works op.33/1, 2, 5, 4, 6, 13]
42	Istar, sym. variations, 1896
47	Médée (incid music, C. Mendès), 1898
55	Choral varié, sax/va, orch, 1903
57	Symphony no.2, B, 1902, orchd 1902–3
61	Jour d’été à la montagne, sym. triptych, 1905
62	Souvenirs, poem, 1906
70	Symphony no.3 (Sinfonia brevis (de bello gallico)), 1916–18
76	Veronica (incid music, C. Gos), 1919–20, unpubd
77	Poème des rivages, sym. suite, 1919–21
87	Diptyque méditerranéen, 1925–6
89	Concert, fl, vc, str, 1926

sacred vocal

22	Cantate Domino, canticle, 3vv, org, 1885
23	Sainte Marie-Madeleine (cant.), S, female vv, pf, hmn, 1885
41	Deus Israel conjungat vos (motet), 4–6vv, 1896
46	Les noces d’or du sacerdoce (P. Delaporte), canticle, 1v, hmn, 1898
49	Sancta Maria, succure miseris (motet), 2 equal vv, org, 1898
75	Pentecosten (24 popular Gregorian canticles), 1v, unison vv, org, 1919
79	Ave, regina coelorum (motet), 4vv, 1922
83	Deux motets en l’honneur de la canonisation de Saint Jean Eudes, 4vv, 1925
88	O domina mea (motet), 2 equal vv, org, 1926

secular vocal

excluding songs

2	La chanson des aventuriers de la mer (V. Hugo), Bar, male vv, pf, str qnt, completed 1872, pubd with pf acc. only
11	La chevauchée du Cid (de Bonnières), Bar, vv, orch/pf, 1876–9 [after song op.11]
18	Le chant de la cloche (legend dramatique, prol, 7 tableaux, d’Indy, after Schiller), solo vv, double chorus, orch, 1879–83, staged 1912
32	Sur la mer (d’Indy), female vv, 1888
37	Cantate de fête pour l’inauguration d’une statue (E. Augier), Bar, vv, orch, completed 1893, unpubd
39	L’art et le peuple (Hugo), 4 male vv, 1894, orchd 1918
44	Ode à Valence (Genest), S, male vv, orch, 1897, unpubd
–	O gai soleil (d’Indy), 2vv, 1909, pubd as suppl. to BSIM, v (15 Oct 1909)
–	Vive Henry quatre, 4vv, wind band/pf, ?1909 [harmonization of anon. song]
78	Two Scholars’ Songs (anon.), 2vv, 1921
82	Trois chansons populaires françaises, 4vv, 1924
90	Six chants populaires français, set 1, nos.1 and 3–6 for 4vv, no.2 for 3 female vv, completed 1927
93	Le bouquet de printemps (anon.), 3 female vv (solo or choral), completed 1928
97	Les trois fileuses (M. Chevais), 3 equal vv, 1929
100	Six chants populaires français, set 2, 4vv, 1930
102	Chanson en forme de canon à l’octave, S, Bar, 1931
103	Chant de nourrice (J. Aicard), 3 equal vv, 1931
104	Le forgeron (Aicard), 3vv, str qt, 1931
105	La vengeance du mari (anon.), S, T, T, 4vv, small wind band/pf, 1931, pubd as op.104

chamber and band

–	Scherzo, D, pf qt, 1871
7	Piano Quartet, a, 1878–88
24	Suite dans le style ancien, D, tpt, 2 fl, str qt, 1886
29	Trio, B, cl/vn, vc, pf, 1887
35	String Quartet no.1, D, 1890
45	String Quartet no.2, E, 1897
–	Mosaïque sur Fervaal, military band, 1897
50	Chansons et danses, wind insts, 1898
54	Marche du 76ème régiment d’infanterie, military band, 1903
59	Sonata, C, vn, pf, 1903–4
–	Trois petites pièces, 1907-?1915: 1, D, fl, pf; 2, B, cl, pf; 3, F, hn, pf
–	Rondino, 4 tpt, completed 1911
72	Sarabande et menuet, wind qnt, 1918 [arr. from op.24]
81	Piano Quintet, g, 1924
84	Sonata, D, vc, pf, 1924–5
91	Suite, fl, str trio, hp, 1927
92	Sextet, B, 2 vn, 2 va, 2 vc, completed 1927
96	String Quartet no.3, D, 1928–9
98	Trio, G, pf trio, 1929
–	String Quartet no.4, 1931, inc.

songs

for one voice, piano unless otherwise stated

–	Angoisse (F. Bazenery), 1869–71; Marche du panache à la grande maréchale V.I. (d’Indy), ?1871–2; Adieu (H. Musset), completed 1872
3	Attente (Hugo), completed 1871, MS marked op.6
4	Madrigal (de Bonnières), completed 1872
10	Plainte de Thécla (de Bonnières, after Schiller), 1880
11	Au galop (Mélodie espagnole) (de Bonnières), 1876–9
13	Clair de lune (Hugo), S, pf, 1872, orchd 1881
20	L’amour et le crane (C. Baudelaire), 1884
–	L’Académie Française nous a nommés tous trois (?d’Indy), 1888, pubd in review Cent moins un (1888)
–	[29] Chansons populaires du Vivarais et du Vercors, 1892
–	Deux chansons enfantines, 1896 [harmonization], pubd in L’âme enfantine, ed. M. Legrand (Paris, 1897), 38, 84
43	Lied maritime (d’Indy), 1896
48	La première dent (J. de La Laurencie), 1898
52	[88] Chansons populaires du Vivarais, i, 1900
56	Mirage (P. Gravollet), 1903
58	Les yeux de l’aimée (d’Indy), 1904
64	Vocalise, 1907
–	Six chansons anciennes du Vivarais, 1926
–	Ariette pour Tina (d’Indy), 1927
94	Madrigal à deux voix (Charles d’Orléans), S, vc, completed 1928
101	[50] Chansons populaires du Vivarais, ii, 1930
–	Cinq chansons folkloriques et deux rigaudons à une voix, c1931

keyboard

piano

1	Sonata, c, 1869
–	Quatre romances sans paroles, 1870, no.4 withdrawn
9	Petite sonate dans la forme classique, 1880
15	Poème des montagnes, sym. poem, 1881
16	Quatre pièces, 1882
17	Helvétia, 3 waltzes, 1882
26	Nocturne, 1886
27	Promenade, 1887
30	Schumanniana, 3 chants sans paroles, 1887
33	Tableaux de voyage, 13 pieces, 1889
60	Petite chanson grégorienne, 4 hands, 1904
63	Sonata, E, 1907
65	Menuet sur le nom d’Haydn, 1909, pubd in BSIM, vi (1910), Jan
68	Treize pièces brèves, 1908–15
69	Douze petites pièces faciles dans le style classique de la fin du XVIIIe siècle, 1908–15
73	Sept chants de terroir, 4 hands, 1918
74	Pour les enfants de tous les ages, 24 pieces, 1919
85	Thème varié, fugue et chanson, 1925
86	Contes de fées, 5 pieces, 1925
95	Six paraphrases sur des chansons enfantines de France, 1928
99	Fantaisie sur un vieil air de ronde française, 1930
Also arrs. for 4 hands of op.6, 1876; op.54, 1903; op.77, 1922

organ and harmonium

38	Prélude et petit canon à trois parties, org, 1893
51	Vêpres du commun des martyrs, org, 1899
66	Pièce, e, hmn, 1911, pubd for org (1912) and as Prélude (1913)

educational

71	Cent thèmes d’harmonie et réalisations, 1907–18
–	Cinq cents exercices de lecture pour alto (1925), collab. A. Parent
–	Cinq cents exercices de lecture pour violon (1926)
–	Cinq cents exercices de lecture pour violoncelle (1926)
See also chbr and pf works

editions and arrangements

opera editions

A.-C. Destouches: Les éléments

C.W. Gluck: Iphigénie en Aulide, 1908; L’ivrogne corrigé

C. Monteverdi: L’incoronazione di Poppea (Paris, c1904); Orfeo (Paris, c1904); Il ritorno d’Ulisse in patria(Paris, c1904)

J.-P. Rameau: Hippolyte et Aricie (Paris, c1902); Dardanus(Paris, c1905); Zaïs (Paris, c1911)

other works

E. Chausson: Viviane, op.5, pf red. completed; Chant funèbre, op.28, orchd, 1914; String Quartet, op.35, movt 3 completed, c1899, pf 4 hands red. completed

G. Lekeu: Cello Sonata, Piano Quartet, both completed

Edns and transcrs. of works by Arcadelt, J.S. Bach, Janequin, Rossi, F.W. Rust, Senaillé, Torelli, Vecchi, Vivaldi

Arrs. and orchestrations of works by C. Benoit, A. de Castillon, H. Duparc, A. Rubinstein

MSS in F–Pn, Les Faufs

Principal publishers: Durand, Hamelle, Heugel

WRITINGS

Histoire du 105ème Bataillon de la Garde nationale de Paris, en l’année 1870–71 (Paris, 1872)

Projet d’organisation des études du Conservatoire de Musique de Paris (Paris, 1892)

De Bach à Beethoven (Paris, 1899)

Une école de musique répondant aux besoins modernes: discours d’inauguration de l’école de chant liturgique … fondée par la Schola Cantorum en 1896 (Paris,1900)

Cours de composition musicale (Paris, 1903–50) [vol.iv ed. G. de Lioncourt]

César Franck (Paris, 1906; Eng. trans., 1910/R)

Beethoven (Paris, 1911; Eng. trans.,1913/R)

Emmanuel Chabrier et Paul Dukas (Paris, 1920)

La Schola Cantorum: son histoire depuis sa fondation jusq’au 1925 (Paris, 1927)

Richard Wagner et son influence sur l’art musical français (Paris, 1930)

Introduction à l’étude de ‘Parsifal’ de Wagner (Paris, 1937) [inc.]

Many articles in Le Figaro (1892–1900), Guide musical (1897–1904), Tribune de St Gervais (1897–1909), L’art moderne (Brussels, 1900–03), Musica (1902–13), Courrier musical(1902–31), Comoedia (1907–28), BSIM (1909–14), Tablettes de la Schola (1909–24)

1. Historical connections.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

monographs and collections of articles

A. Sérieyx: Vincent d’Indy (Paris, 1913)

L. Borgex: Vincent d’Indy: sa vie et son oeuvre (Paris, 1914)

C. Saint-Saëns: Les idées de M. Vincent d’Indy (Paris, 1919)

ReM, no.122 (1932) [d’Indy issue]

M.M. de Fraguier: Vincent d’Indy: souvenirs d’une élève, accompagnés de lettres inédites du maître (Paris, 1934)

‘Autour de Vincent d’Indy’ ReM, no.178 (1937) [d’Indy issue]

A. Gabeau: Auprès du maître Vincent d’Indy: souvenirs des cours de composition (Paris, 1938)

L. Vallas: Vincent d’Indy: la jeunesse (1851–86), i (Paris, 1946)

L. Vallas: Vincent d’Indy: la maturité, la vieillesse (1886–1931), ii (Paris, 1950)

J. Canteloube: Vincent d’Indy (Paris, 1951)

N. Demuth: Vincent d’Indy, 1851–1931, Champion of Classicism (London, 1951)

J. and F. Maillard: Vincent d’Indy, le Maître et sa musique (Zurfluh,1994)

A. Thomson: Vincent d’Indy and his World (Oxford, 1996)

other literature

H. Imbert: ‘Vincent d’Indy’, Profils de musiciens (Paris, 1888); Eng. trans. in Studies in Music, ed. R. Grey (London, 1901), 110–23

Willy [H. Gauthier-Villars]: Lettres de l’ouvreuse (Paris, 1890)

J.G. Ropartz: Notations artistiques (Paris, 1891)

A. Bruneau: Musiques d’hier et de demain (Paris, 1900)

L. Laloy: ‘Une nouvelle école de musique: le cours de M. Vincent d’Indy’, RHCM, i (1901), 393–8

C. Debussy: ‘L’étranger, à Bruxelles’, Gil Blas (12 Jan 1903)

R. Rolland: Paris als Musikstadt (Berlin, 1904)

L. Laloy: ‘Le drame musical moderne: Vincent d’Indy’, BSIM, i (1905), 8–16

M.D. Calvocoressi: ‘M. Vincent d’Indy’, SIMG, vii (1905–6), 310–14

R. Rolland: ‘Vincent d'Indy’, Musiciens d’aujourd’hui (Paris, 1908; Eng. trans., 1915/R), 97–118

P. Lalo: ‘Les jeunes musiciens et l’enseignement de M. Vincent d’Indy’, Le temps (23 March 1909)

E. Vuillermoz: ‘La Schola et le Conservatoire’, Mercure de France, lxxxi (1909), 234–43

J. de La Laurencie: ‘Quelques souvenirs vivarois sur Vincent d’Indy’, Revue du Vivarais, (1932), March–April 7–19

C. Photiadès: ‘Vincent d’Indy’, Revue de Paris, xxxix (1932), 45–69

P. Dukas: Les écrits de Paul Dukas sur la musique (Paris, 1948)

E. Vuillermoz: ‘Vincent d’Indy et ses élèves’, Histoire de la musique (Paris, 1949), 312–15

N. Demuth: ‘Vincent d’Indy: 1851–1931–1951’, Music Survey, iii (1950–51), 154–60

C. Boller: ‘Quelques souvenirs sur Vincent d’Indy’, Feuilles musicales, iv (1951), 61–4

J. d’Indy: ‘Vincent d’Indy en famille’, Revue internationale de musique, no.10 (1951), 325–31

N. Dufourcq: Autour de Coquard, César Franck et Vincent d’Indy (Paris, 1952)

E. Lockspeiser: ‘Vincent d’Indy’, The Music Masters, iii, ed. A.L. Bacharach (London, 1952, 2/1958), 181–5

A. vander Linden, ed.: ‘Lettres de Vincent d’Indy à Octave Maus’, RBM, xiv (1960), 87–125; xv (1961), 55–160

P. Le Flem: ‘Vincent d’Indy, tel que je l’ai connu’, Musica-disques, no.93 (1961), 11–15

M.L. Sérieyx, ed.: Lettres à Auguste Sérieyx ([from] Vincent d’Indy, Henri Duparc, Albert Roussel) (Lausanne, 1961)

L. Davies: ‘The French Wagnerians’, Opera, xix (1968), 351–7

L. Davies: César Franck and his Circle (London, 1970/R)

A. Balsan: ‘L’hérédité Drômoise de Vincent d’Indy: notes généalogiques’, Revue Drômoise, no.421 (Oct 1981), 373–7

S. Giocanti: ‘Vincent d’Indy et le régionalisme musical’, France Latine, no.113 (1991), 81–104

Infantas, Fernando de las

(b Córdoba, 1534; d c1610). Spanish composer and theologian. He was his family's third son, heir to a coat-of-arms bestowed by Edward III of England, and the only Spanish composer of his time of sufficiently high social rank to be called ‘Don’. He received a fine classical education and the best musical training obtainable in Córdoba, where Alonso de Vieras was maestro de capilla of the cathedral. In 1571 or 1572 he went to Rome, aided by a pension from Philip II of Spain. Alarmed by proposed revisions to the Roman Gradual according to the recommendations of humanist scholars, Infantas protested to Philip II in a letter of 25 November 1577. The king intervened, causing Pope Gregory XIII to delay Palestrina and Annibale Zoilo in their preparation of the new version. From 1572 until about 1597 Infantas lived on his patrimony at Rome, working as a volunteer in a hospital for the needy. He was ordained in 1584, and served afterwards as chaplain of a small church in a poor suburb. In 1601 he published at Paris three theological treatises, one of which, Tractatus de praedestinatione, was placed on the Index in 1603 by Pope Clement VIII. During the last years of his life he became involved in theological and political disputes. By 1608 he was in such penury that he petitioned Philip III for aid.

All his compositions were written before his ordination. Plura modulationum genera (1579) is a set of 101 counterpoints, in three to eight parts, based on a single ten-note Gregorian incipit (Psalm cxvi). The first 14 are three-voice exercises composed during his student days in Córdoba. His next datable works are three five-voice motets in the second book of Sacrae varii styli cantiones (1578): no.28 commemorates the death of Charles V of Spain at the monastery of Yuste near Plasencia in 1558; no.20 implores divine aid against the siege of Malta by the Turks in 1565; and no.5 celebrates the naval triumph at Lepanto in 1571. His last datable composition is a motet from the third book of Sacrae varii styli cantiones (1579), Jubilate Deo, written for the jubilee year 1575. Three motets from the same collection also appeared in anthologies published at Nuremberg. Many of the motets of Sacrae varii styli cantiones, even those which are comparatively free, reveal Infantas's interest in plainsong. In the virtuoso 8-voice setting of Loquebantur variis linguis, the composer depicts ‘the Apostles speaking with divers tongues’ by having three voices sing a whole tone higher than notated; the lower voices sing a mirror canon.

WORKS

Sacrarum varii styli cantionum liber 1 (Venice, 1578); 10 motets, 4vv, Antologia polifónica sacra, ii (Madrid, 1956); Loquebantur variis linguis, 8vv, ed. B. Turner (London, 1984)

Sacrarum varii styli cantionum liber 2 (Venice, 1578)

Sacrarum varii styli cantionum liber 3 (Venice, 1579); 1 motet also in 1583², 2 in 1585¹

Plura modulationum genera (Venice, 1579); 2 canons also in 1591²⁶, 1 in P. Cerone: El melopeo y maestro (Naples, 1613/R)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

StevensonSCM

R. Mitjana y Gordón: Don Fernando de las Infantas, teólogo y músico (Madrid, 1918)

R. Stevenson: ‘Spanish Polyphonists in the Age of the Armada’, Inter-American Music Review, xii/2 (1991–2), 17–114, esp. 38–40

M. Noone: ‘Philip II and Music: a Fourth Centenary Reassessment’, RdMc, xxi (1998), 447–8

ROBERT STEVENSON

Inflection [inflexion].

A deviation from a pitch or pitches regarded in some way as standard.

(1) In Gregorian and other chant, the term ‘inflection’ is generally reserved for simple customary deviations from a monotone reciting note (tenor, tuba) dictated by considerations of punctuation during the singing of prose texts: the simplest method of singing a religious service, or part of one, may be described as ‘monotone with inflections’. It is often said that the inflected recitative originated for practical reasons: that it made the text more intelligible, that it helped readers by providing simple melodies that would serve for many texts, and that it made words and voice more audible in large gatherings. Though partly true, such explanations are probably too narrow. The formulaic solo chants especially are examples of sacral song-speech found in many religions and cultures, the explanation of which lies largely in the psychology of the religious mind. The regulation and codification of lesson formulae, psalm tones and related matters imposed in the Middle Ages on the old oral traditions of this song-speech gave it the trappings of practicality but obscured its origins.

Three classes of inflection may be distinguished. The ascent to a reciting note is called the intonation; the descent from it is called the ending (termination, cadence, punctum); the variation that may occur between these two is called the mediation (or median cadence), or, for a more minor variation, the flex (flexa). In their normal form the Gregorian psalm tones illustrate the use of these inflections: an intonation leads to the monotone reciting note, which is broken by a half-close at the mediation; the reciting note is then resumed until the closing inflection, or ending (differentia) (see Psalm, §II, 7(iv)). Of the three types of inflection, the ending is the most universal, and the intonation that most readily forgone.

Regular inflections have been used for the reading of prose texts such as lessons, collects (prayers), versicles and responses by the officiant and the choir, and also for some of the melodies used for certain chants with fixed texts, such as the Pater noster, Exultet, Te Deum, Credo and Gloria in excelsis. These inflections have differed in detail at various times and places, but the same principles underlie them all. Some examples from the Sarum rite, compared with Guidetti’s revised inflections in his Directorium chori and the revised choirbooks of Solesmes (as conveniently laid down in LU, 98–127, for example), clearly illustrate the types of similarity and difference. (The Liber usualis versions seem as dependent on Benedictine tradition as on general medieval practice.)

The narrow ambitus of most Gregorian recitation tones prevents their being assigned to any of the church modes, although they are characterized by an important modal feature, the positioning of the reciting note a tone or a semitone above its lower neighbour; the more ancient of the tones for collects and lessons seem to have favoured a reciting note on a or g, a tone above the inflections on g or f respectively. Later medieval practice favoured recitation on c' or f, with the result that inflections occurred using the semitone and minor 3rd below the reciting note.

For the collect of the day the Sarum books prescribed mostly a simple cadence at the end, taken up by the ‘Amen’ (ex.1); sometimes there was a mediation as well as a cadence. Guidetti prescribed two ferial forms and one festal: the ordinary ferial was an uninflected monotone (thus also in the Liber usualis), whereas the festal had two inflections (ex.2; these inflections occur also in the Liber usualis). The second was used at the principal break (metrum) in the body of the collect, and the first, the flex, at minor breaks.

For the ordinary versicles and responses the drop of a minor 3rd is universal. In the case of a sentence ending with a monosyllable Guidetti and the Solesmes books prescribed a return to the reciting note, the Sarum rite a rise of a tone. Some versicles had more elaborate cadences (e.g. ex.3, from the Sarum rite). The ‘ekphonesis’, or closing sentence pronounced aloud at the end of a prayer, had two forms, one with a drop of a semitone at the end, and another, more elaborate one (ex.4). The drop of a perfect 5th occurred in Sarum at the end of certain versicles and for the collects; it occurred also in Old Testament lessons at Mass and at the end of the preliminary Jube Domine benedicere.

Lessons ended with the drop of a semitone, or included both a mediation and a termination (ex.5). The chapter had inflections broadly similar to those of the lessons (ex.6), the drop of the 5th being modified for a monosyllable like that of the minor 3rd in the versicles. Sentences containing a question were recited a semitone lower, with a rise at the end to the normal reciting note.

The singing of the Epistle and Gospel followed the lines already indicated, but the forms were more elaborate. Each sentence had in Sarum a mediation (metrum, ex.7, the same in Epistle and Gospel) and ending (punctum, differing between Epistle and Gospel; ex.8 shows that for the Epistle). The final sentence had a special form of its own, common to Epistle and Gospel, and interrogatives were treated as in ordinary lessons. These Sarum forms were preserved in a slightly different shape by the Benedictines; Guidetti prescribed a greatly simplified version, which subsequently became very common.

The inflections of the Ambrosian rite are numerous and very different from those described above (see C. Perego: La regola del canto fermo ambrosiano, Milan, 1622; see also Ambrosian chant, §4). For details of early variant traditions see Wagner (pp.19–82). For the adaptations of the Sarum inflection for Anglican use, with English texts, see Arnold. For the more elaborate developments in Gregorian chant denoted by the term ‘inflection’ seePsalm, §II. For details of the various notational systems devised for the simpler inflection of various early traditions, including the Latin, see Ekphonetic notation.

(2) The term ‘inflection’ is used also to signify the bending of pitch for artistic purposes, especially in vocal music. The degree to which pitch inflection is used varies from one culture to another. The cultural aesthetic of classical European traditions allows little more than the tasteful use of vibrato or the occasional use of portamento, and in the case of vocal music, tremolo. By contrast, in most South Asian traditions the importance of various techniques of pitch inflection as a stylistic feature can hardly be overemphasized. The same is true for performance on the Japanese shakuhachi, on which a mastery is expected in a wide range of techniques for inflecting pitch in combination with amplitude, dynamics and subtle gradations of timbre. The hourglass drum of West Africa derives its structure from the need to be able to vary the pitch widely while the drum is sounding after it is struck.

In most cultures, moreover, the inflection of pitch is a normal technique of ornamentation: the ‘blue’ notes of jazz, for example, may vary in pitch by more than a semitone and thus range between a sharp and a flat intonation of the pitch in question. Ex.9 shows the blues scale, the ‘blue notes’ being indicated by asterisks. Pitch bending is also used by jazz and rock keyboard players (see Electronic instruments, §IV, 5(ii)). Caccini (Le nuove musiche, 1601/2) described two methods of ‘tuning the voice’ (intonazione della voce), one of which he claimed was overused in his time and involved attacking an initial note from a 3rd below.

See Intonation (2).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

G.D. Guidetti: Directorium chori (Rome, 1582)

P. Wagner: Einführung in die gregorianischen Melodien: ein Handbuch der Choralwissenschaft, iii: Gregorianische Formenlehre: eine choralische Stilkunde for Divine Service (Leipzig, 1921/R)

J.H. Arnold, ed.: A Manual of Plainsong for Divine Service (London, 1951)

W. Apel: Gregorian Chant (Bloomington, IN, 1958, 2/1990)

M. Hood: The Ethnomusicologist (New York, 1971, 2/1982)

R. Widdess: ‘Involving the Performers in Transcription and Analysis: a Collaborative Approach to Dhrupad’, EthM, xxxviii (1994), 59–79, esp. 63, 67

W.H. FRERE/R (1), OWEN JANDER/PETER COOKE (2)

Information theory.

A theory which seeks to describe, by means of mathematical equations, the properties and behaviour of systems for storing, processing and transmitting information. Here the term ‘information’ is interpreted broadly as covering not only messages transmitted via the familiar communications media (radio, television, telephone and computer networks), but also the signals (aural, visual and other sensory stimuli) by means of which an individual perceives its immediate environment or communicates with others.

One of the fundamental tenets of information theory is that information can be quantified and measured in terms of the number of bits (binary digits: 0, 1) required to store or transmit a message. Information is understood as the selection by a message source of one particular message from a set of all possible messages. Since the simplest choice (that between two equally likely alternatives) can be represented by a single bit, the quantity of information represented by this choice is taken as the fundamental unit. Similarly, two bits represent a choice among four alternatives each with probability 1/4, and three bits represent a choice among eight alternatives each with probability ⅛. If the alternatives are not all equally likely, then each message in the set will have its own probability of occurrence. The average information content of the message set, or the average number of bits required to represent a message from the set, is called the entropy of the set (H). The entropy is found by adding up the information content of each message multiplied by its probability of occurrence. If the entropy of a message source is H bits per message then every binary encoding representing the source requires an average of at least H bits per message. Conversely, it is always possible to find binary encodings representing the source which use arbitrarily close to H bits per message. Thus entropy can be interpreted as the average number of bits required per message in the most efficient binary encoding of the source. Suppose, for example, we have a source which selects randomly from a message list of eight musical phrases m₁ … m₈ with associated probabilities p₁ … p₈. If all eight phrases have an equal probablity of ⅛ then H=3 bits, its maximum possible value; however if four phrases each have a probability of 1/16 while the other four have probabilities of 1/4, ⅛, 0 and 0 then H=2 bits. The difference is a result of the unequal probabilities and reveals some of the statistical strucure of the source; since it contains only 2/3 of the maximum information it is said to exhibit 33% redundancy. This is known as a Stochastic process and is characteristic of all information sources in information theory. In fact a music source is not a simple stochastic process; it is a Markov chain, where the probability of a future musical event occurring in the sequence depends explicitly on the occurrence of previous events.

From 1956 a spate of publications appeared applying information theory to many aspects of music analysis and the aesthetics of music. In particular, information theory has been used to determine the relative information rates or entropy profiles of different samples of music in attempting to analyse content, style or perception objectively. Youngblood (1958) made considerable use of the concept of redundancy in defining the notion of style, whilst Moles (1958) addressed the broader issues of aesthetic perception including what he termed ‘sonic material’. Meyer (1956) came close to information theory in viewing styles as culturally conditioned systems of expectations which are continually aroused, fulfilled or frustrated, thereby engendering musical meaning. Revising his definition to explicitly include information theory led Meyer (1957) to a three-stage model for the evolution of musical meaning, and to the notion of designed entropy which measures a composer’s intentional deviation from a stylistic norm. Both Meyer (1957) and Moles (1956) addressed the modulating or distorting effect of noise on musical information. The situation in which music is frequently reheard was examined by Meyer (1961).

Krahenbuehl and Coons (1958) devised quantitative indexes of articulateness and hierarchy which essentially measure the degree of coherence of a sequence of musical events in terms of their unity and diversity. Hiller and Bean (1966) analysed four sonata expositions statistically and derived a variety of ‘contours of information fluctuation’ from which they were able to draw conclusions regarding the composers’ styles and make useful comparisons between the sonatas. Böker-Heil (1971, 1972, 1977) applied statistical and related data analysis techniques to 12-note rows from works by Berg and Schoenberg. His stylistic analyses of madrigals by Palestrina, Rore and Marenzio used three-dimensional graphical profiles of statistically determined functions to define and differentiate stylistic features of works. He later employed a novel tripartite computer simulation model to analyse folksong melodies from the southern Tyrol.

More recently important work has been done by Conklin, Witten and others (1988, 1992, 1994, 1995) on the entropies of Bach chorale melodies as measured by both human and computational models of music prediction. Human subjects were asked to predict the next pitch in each chorale melody using a gambling technique to quantify their degree of confidence in the prediction. The computational approach involved learning inductively the rules for generating the musical sequences. Good agreement between the human and computational estimates was obtained, both for the entropy profiles and for the average pitch entropies. For the latter, values of between 1.5 and 2.1 bits per musical event were found, corresponding to an average probability of between 35% and 23% per musical event respectively.

The combinatorial complexity of two classes of algorithm for musical similarity and melodic recognition has been analysed in detail and compared quantitatively by Overill (1993). The computational problems associated with approximate string-matching techniques for music analysis and musical information retrieval are considered by Crawford, Iliopoulos and Raman (1998).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

L.B. Meyer: Emotion and Meaning in Music (Chicago, 1956)

A.A. Moles: ‘Informationstheorie der Musik’, Nachrichtentechnische Fachberichte, iii (1956), 47–55

R.C. Pinkerton: ‘Information Theory and Melody’, Scientific American, cxciv.ii (February 1956), 77–86

L.B. Meyer: ‘Meaning in Music and Information Theory’, Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, xv (1957), 412–24

E. Coons and D. Krahenbuehl: ‘Information as a Measure of Structure in Music’, JMT, ii (1958), 127–61

W. Fucks: Mathematische Analyse der Formalstruktur von Musik (Cologne and Opladen, 1958)

D. Krahenbuehl and E. Coons: ‘Information as a Measure of Experience in Music’, Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, xvii (1958), 510–22

A.A. Moles: Théorie de l’information et perception esthétique (Paris, 1958; Eng trans., 1966)

J.E. Youngblood: ‘Style as Information’, JMT, ii (1958), 24–35

W. Meyer-Eppler: Grundlagen und Anwendungen der Informationstheorie (Berlin, 1959)

C. Bean: Information Theory Applied to the Analysis of a Particular Formal Process in Tonal Music (diss., U. of Illinois, 1961)

L.B. Meyer: ‘On Rehearing Music’, JAMS, xiv (1961), 257–67

J.E. Cohen: ‘Information Theory and Music’, Behavioral Science, vii (1962), 137–163

W. Meyer-Eppler: ‘Informationstheoretische Probleme der musikalischen Kommunikationen’, Die Reihe, viii (1962), 7–10; Eng. trans. in Die Reihe, viii (1968), 7–10

L.A. Hiller: Informationstheorie und Computermusik (Mainz, 1964)

L.A. Hiller: ‘Informationstheorie und Musik’, Darmstädter Beiträge zur neuen Musik, viii (1964), 7–34

B. Reimer: ‘Information Theory and the Analysis of Musical Meaning’, Council for Research in Music Education Bulletin, ii (1964), 14–22

F. Winckel: ‘Die informationstheoretische Analyse der musikalischen Strukturen’, Mf, xvii (1964), 1–14

L.A. Hiller and C. Bean: ‘Information Theory Analysis of Four Sonata Expositions’, JMT, x (1966), 96–137

L.A. Hiller and R. Fuller: ‘Structure and Information in Webern’s Symphonie, Op.21’, JMT, xi (1967), 60–115

J. Brincker: ‘Statistical Analysis of Music; an Application of Information Theory’, STMf, lii (1970), 53–7

L. Knopoff and W. Hutchinson: ‘Entropy as a Measure of Style: the Influence of Sample Length’, JMT, xxvii (1970), 75–97

B. Vermazen: ‘Information Theory and Musical Value’, Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, xxix (1970–71), 367–70

N. Böker-Heil: ‘DODEK eine Computer-Demonstration’, Zeitschrift für Musiktheorie, ii (1971), 2–14

N. Böker-Heil: ‘Ein algebraisches Modell des Durmoll tonalen Systems’, Kongress für Musiktheorie I: Stuttgart 1971, 64–104

N. Böker-Heil: ‘Musikalische Stilanalyse und Computer: einige grundsätzliche Erwägungen’, IMSCR XI: Copenhagen 1972, i, 45–50

N. Böker-Heil: ‘Der Zustand polyphoner Strukturen: ein Beispiel automatischer Stilbeschreibung’, IMSCR XI: Copenhagen 1972, i, 108–20

N. Böker-Heil: ‘Computer-Simulation eines musikalischen Verstehensprozesses’, IMSCR XII: Berkeley 1977, 324–9

D. Conklin and J.G. Cleary: ‘Modelling and Generating Music using Multiple Viewpoints’, 1st Workshop on Artificial Intelligence and Music: St Paul 1988, 125–37

L.C. Manzara, I.H. Witten and M. James: ‘On the Entropy of Music: an Experiment with Bach Chorale Melodies’, Leonardo Music Journal, ii (1992), 81–8

R.E. Overill: ‘On the Combinatorial Complexity of Fuzzy Pattern Matching in Music Analysis’, Computers and the Humanities, xxvii (1993), 105–10

I.H. Witten, L.C. Manzara and D. Conklin: ‘Comparing Human and Computational Models of Music Prediction’, Computer Music Journal, xviii (1994), 70–80

D. Conklin and I.H. Witten: ‘Multiple Viewpoint Systems for Music Prediction’, Journal of New Music Research, xxiv (1995), 51–73

T. Crawford, C.S. Iliopoulos and R. Raman: ‘String Matching Techniques for Musical Similarity and Melodic Recognition’, Computing in Musicology, xi (1998), 73–100

RICHARD E. OVERILL

Ingalls, Jeremiah

(b Andover, MA, 1 March 1764; d Hancock, VT, 6 April 1838). American tune book compiler, composer, choir leader, singing school master and bass viol player. Over half the 137 tunes in his only tune book, The Christian Harmony, or Songster’s Companion (Exeter, NH, 1805/R), were composed in the New England style prevalent in northern tune books before 1820. The remaining settings constitute the first appearance in print of the spiritual folksong – a sacred text set to a formerly secular melody – a genre that appeared frequently in southern tunebooks from the second decade of the 19th century. Other characteristics of The Christian Harmony that appear rarely in northern tune books but commonly in later southern ones are rhythmic and scalar influences from folk and secular music, repeated phrases, three-voice settings, tunes with added choruses, revivalist poetry, the inclusion of complete texts, and tunes named after the texts to which they are set. Ingalls’s book thus occupies a unique position in the tune book literature.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

D.G. Klocko: Jeremiah Ingalls’s ‘The Christian Harmony: or, Songster’s Companion (1805)’ (diss., U. of Michigan, 1978)

DAVID G. KLOCKO

Inganno (i)

(It.: ‘deception’).

A technique of hexachord transposition resulting in the alteration, development or transformation of thematic material and found particularly in imitative textures of works (mostly non-vocal) written during the later Renaissance and earlier Baroque periods.

Artusi explained the term in the second part of his treatise attacking modern musical practice (1603): ‘The deception [inganno] takes place whenever one part begins a theme and another voice follows it without using the same intervals but still retaining the same names of the hexachord syllables’. He provided an illustration of the technique (ex.1). An initial theme in the natural hexachord (a) is changed (b) by transposing the first pitch into the hard hexachord (D sol replaces G sol) and the third and fifth pitches into the soft hexachord (B fa replaces F fa, and F ut replaces C ut). Although this example is related to a single imitative point, contemporary composers seem to have taken advantage of the technique as a means of interconnecting the thematic material of a whole work. Artusi made it clear that the use of inganni was, however, not confined to his contemporaries (‘li Moderni’) but might be found in the works of earlier composers (‘gli valenti Compositori passati’). He claimed that some modern musicians misunderstood the technique; he was perhaps referring here to the greater flexibility with which it was used in the early 17th century and to its occurrence in dissonant and chromatic contexts.

The only known composition to refer to the term in its title is Trabaci’s ricercare on the 4th tone (1603), ‘con tre fughe et inganni’. Inganni used in his later ricercares (1615) are identified in the musical text. It has been suggested (by Jackson, 1971) that inganni played a part in the chromaticisms of the late polyphonic madrigal, including works by Gesualdo. They are certainly found in many of the polyphonic instrumental and keyboard works of Frescobaldi – thus highlighting the consummate versatility of his handling of thematic variation – and to some extent in the instrumental music of Tarquinio Merula.

The mid-16th century repertory of the Bourdeney Codex (F-Pn Rés.Vm 851) contains the earliest identified examples of the systematic use of inganni in ricercares. Four of these pieces also appear in the Chigi Manuscript (I-Rvat Chigi Q.VIII.206), there attributed to ‘Giaches'; once thought to be Giaches Wert, it is now considered more likely to refer to ‘Giaches Brumel’ (Jacques Brunel; Newcomb, and see RRMR, lxxxix, 1991), organist of the court of Ferrara from about 1532 to 1564. Luzzaschi, Frescobaldi’s teacher, succeeded Brunel, coincided with him at Ferrara, and may have been his pupil. The likelihood that Jacques Brunel was organist of Rouen Cathedral in 1524 may establish successive links between a Franco-Flemish composer and composers working in Ferrara, Rome and Naples. This may suggest that the technique of inganno dates back to the earliest years of imitative composition and may not be confined to Italy. Given the importance of the hexachord system, and especially of hexachordal mutation, in applied music theory and education this would not be a surprise. Although the most systematic use of inganno is found in keyboard and instrumental music, there are less overt examples in 16th-century vocal polyphony, but it is not always possible to determine whether its use is deliberate (Harper, 1978).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

G.M. Artusi: Seconda parte dell’Artusi overo Delli imperfettioni della moderna musica (Venice, 1603/R), 45–6

R.J. Jackson: ‘The Inganni and the Keyboard Music of Trabaci’, JAMS, xxi (1968), 204–8

R.J. Jackson: ‘On Frescobaldi’s Chromaticism and its Background’, MQ, lvii (1971), 255–69

J.M. Harper: The Instrumental Canzonas of Girolamo Frescobaldi: a Comparative Edition and Introductory Study (diss., U. of Birmingham, 1975)

J.M. Harper: ‘Frescobaldi’s Early Inganni and their Background’, PRMA, cv (1978–9), 1–12

A. Newcomb: ‘The Anonymous Ricercars of the Bourdeney Codex’, Frescobaldi Studies, ed. A. Silbiger (Durham, NC, 1987), 97–123

G. Trantham: ‘An Analytical Approach to Seventeenth-Century Music: Exploring inganni in Fantasia seconda (1608) by Girolamo Frescobaldi’, College Music Symposium, xxxiii–xxxiv (1993–4), 70–92

JOHN HARPER

Inganno (ii)

(It.).

See Interrupted cadence.

Ingegneri [Ingegnieri, Ingignieri, Ingignero, Inzegneri], Marc’Antonio

(b Verona, 1535–6; d Cremona, 1 July 1592). Italian composer and instrumentalist. He was an important madrigalist and composer of sacred music in the north Italian tradition. He taught Monteverdi, in whose early music particularly his influence is strongly heard.

1. Life.

Ingegneri was born in Verona, the youngest child and only son of Innocenzo Ingegneri, a goldsmith, and Giulia Foscari. The civic register of May 1541 gives Marc’Antonio’s age as five years. Later documents show that the family lived in a house on Via Paradiso, in the parish of S Vitale. He became a choirboy at Verona Cathedral and was probably taught by Jacquet de Berchem and Giovanni Brevio; he may have remained at the cathedral long enough to be taught by Vincenzo Ruffo, who was appointed maestro di cappella in 1551. He later dedicated his first book of masses to the cathedral canons, referring to himself as ‘an alumnus of your teaching’. By 1557 his father had died and Ingegneri had left Verona for the environs of Padua and Venice, where he was employed as a ‘suonadoro di violino’ for processions of the Scuola Grande of S Marco.

No clear documentary evidence of Ingegneri’s activities in the first half of the 1560s has yet been discovered; however, he may have gone to Parma to study with Rore. In the dedication of a madrigal book 21 years after Rore’s death, Ingegneri recalled that he had been ‘on friendly terms with M. Cipriano, and talked to him, and personally received his tuition’. His claim is supported by the fact that three of his madrigals – Non mi toglia il ben mio, Chi vuol veder tutta raccolta and Spess’in parte del ciel – were misattributed to Rore and included in Le vive fiamme (RISM 1565¹⁸), a posthumous collection produced only three months after Rore’s death.

By 1566 Ingegneri had moved to Cremona, and was in receipt of a small stipend from the monastery of S Abbondio. The dedication of his Primo libro de madrigali a quattro voci, which survives only in a 1578 reprint, states that the book was his first publication and refers to his having already spent some years in the service of the dedicatee, Giovanni Gadio, the prevost of S Abbondio. Gadio died in 1569, providing a latest possible date for the dedication, which may in any case not have appeared in the first edition. There is substantial evidence that the book was altered in reprinting, and it may even have been first published before Ingegneri moved to Cremona.

On the title-page of his five-voice motets of 1576 he styled himself prefect of music at Cremona Cathedral (see illustration), though the cathedral account books provide clear evidence of this appointment only from 1578. Ingegneri is first referred to as maestro di cappella in an entry dated 14 January 1580, which recorded that he was to receive a special bonus payment in recognition of his hard work in preparing the music for the preceding Christmas season. Even before that date, although Ingegneri was only called ‘cantor’ and the choir his ‘fellow singers’, the wording of entries clearly indicates that he was already in charge. He seems to have been on the best of terms with the cathedral authorities, since he received special bonuses on more than one occasion over the years. In 1581 he married Margherita Soresina, a singer; they appear to have had no children. He bequeathed his entire estate, including the house in S Vitale, to his sister Prudentia. The house passed from family hands in 1622. Although he had settled in Cremona, throughout the last two decades of his life, Ingegneri maintained ongoing contact with benefactors and patrons elsewhere. This is shown particularly through the commissioning and dedications of his secular works; complete volumes of madrigals were dedicated to patrons in Vienna, Milan, Parma and Verona, and isolated works appeared in anthologies compiled in Verona, Venice, Milan, Brescia, Ferrara and Rome. As the most distinguished musician in Cremona, Ingegneri was in the position to foster the city’s most talented musicians; it is known that he tutored Claudio Monteverdi, but it is also likely that he taught Benedetto Pallavicino, Monteverdi’s eventual colleague and rival at Mantua. For nearly a decade, between 1576 and 1586, Ingegneri published only madrigals; but after the dissolution of the Cremonese Accademia degli Animosi in 1586, he appears to have lost interest in secular composition. He resumed the publication of sacred music, producing six more volumes before his death in 1592. He was a close friend of the reformist bishop Nicolò Sfondrato, later Pope Gregory XIV, to whom he dedicated no fewer than four books of sacred music over a period of 15 years.

2. Works.

Ingegneri’s music reveals that he was a highly competent polyphonist; his contemporary, Pietro Cerone, hailed him as a master of counterpoint, and attributed to him the invention of a number of devices including ‘double and inverted counterpoint at the 10th and 12th’. His sacred music catered admirably to the musical demands of the post-Tridentine church. Many of his motets, for example, are based on plainchant melodies which are occasionally used as strict cantus firmi, and his choice of texts shows a gradual inclination towards liturgical verse. Yet he seems not to have been greatly concerned with the intelligibility of the text, an issue that was prominent among reformers; this is by no means unusual, and may even reflect the prevailing attitude in Cremona. During Sfondrato’s bishopric no specific mention of music, or the principles by which it should be governed, appear in the otherwise exacting and detailed synodal decrees. Ingegneri favoured polyphonic textures in his motets, the most extreme example of which is the four-voice Noe noe, a double canon by inversion with two different resolutions of the canonic voices. The masses also show evidence of the increasing influence of Tridentine reform. The first book, published in 1573, contains four parody masses. The works are freely contrapuntal in the oltremontano style, perhaps revealing the influence of his teachers, Berchem and Rore. By contrast, the masses in the second book, published in 1587, are based entirely on liturgical or freely invented material, and make much fuller use of syllabic text-setting and homophonic textures. But this development in his musical treatment of text may not have been due solely to current religious thinking. Ingegneri’s later sacred works demonstrate the growing popular concern that musical settings should reflect the sense of the text. His responsories for Holy Week and their companion Lamentations correspond to Pietro Pontio’s advice to use slow-moving homophony, with occasional dissonance ‘to make the composition more lachrymose’. On the other hand, the celebratory book of polychoral motets, dedicated to Sfondrato upon his elevation to cardinal, was published for 7–12 or 16 voices, ‘together and separately adaptable for various concerted musical instruments’.

A full assessment of Ingegneri’s development as a madrigalist is hindered by the loss of his first book of five-voice madrigals and of the cantus part of the second. His later books, four from the 1580s and one posthumously published, all survive complete. The corpus spans over 20 years and reflects various influences that besieged secular composition during that period: the rise of the professional female performer, the development of instrumental playing, the humanist experiments of both French and Italian academies and the emergence of musical theatre. His madrigals show him to be a natural successor to Rore, and reveal an enduring fascination with the integration of coherent musical form with an intelligent and intelligible representation of the text. His means of expression make use of techniques which affect whole blocks of text and which may be juxtaposed in contrasting sections: chromaticism, metre, relative note values, texture and tessitura. The emphasis is always on illumination, rather than illustration, of the textual conceit: although he frequently uses madrigalisms, they always appear as part of the wider affective context. The musical structure is governed by the syntactical, not the formal, structure of the text and is generally articulated through cadential relationships, with both the pitch and the arrangement of the cadence determining its structural importance. However, the reiteration, development and transformation of thematic material as both a unifying technique and an expressive device is also a prominent feature of his style. And like Rore, Ingegneri explored the possibilities of representing the text through harmonic organization; in many of his works mode, deviation from the mode, and cadential relationships are used as text-expressive tools.

His textual choices are varied, including verse by Petrarch, Bembo, Ariosto, Parabosco, Casone, Tasso and Guarini. His settings of Tasso’s D’aria un tempo nodrimmi (1580) and Etienne de la Boetie’s Iay senty les deux maux (1580) were composed before the poems themselves were published, suggesting that he had access to manuscript copies of the texts. A significant number of madrigals using a female narrative voice, or eulogizing identifiable female singers, may indicate contact with performers such as Tarquinia Molza and Laura Peverara in the years before they were employed at Ferrara. Some of the madrigals either dedicated to or associated with the Farnese court at Parma and the Accademia Filarmonica of Verona are clearly intended to be part of theatrical displays, commenting on dance formations, narrating the descent of a deus ex machina or describing the distribution of performing forces of both voices and instruments.

Documentary evidence shows that by the 1580s Ingegneri had organized a mixed instrumental ensemble of strings and wind at the cathedral in Cremona. His only exclusively instrumental compositions are two ‘arie di canzon francese per sonare’ which appear at the end of his second four-voice book of madrigals; some of his madrigals may have been performed by mixed forces.

3. Influence.

Ingegneri’s success both during and after his lifetime is difficult to quantify. On one hand, both his books of four-voice madrigals were reprinted at least once, and his contributions to prestigious collective editions, such as Morsolino’s L’amorosa Ero (RISM 1588⁵), and two of the collections for Laura Peverara, the Ferrarese Il lauro secco (1582¹⁷) and the Veronese manuscript tribute (I-VEaf Ms.220), indicate that he was well regarded by the cultural élite. However, his five-voice madrigals were never reprinted, and only a few of his compositions appear in contemporary anthologies. Indeed, his most popular works owe their transmission throughout Europe at least partially to misattributions to Rore and Palestrina.

Ingegneri’s primary importance is as the teacher of Monteverdi, who acknowledged his debt on the title-pages of his first five publications. Many of the most striking and conspicuous devices in Monteverdi’s early books are also features of Ingegneri’s mature style, and in a number of instances Monteverdi either parodied his teacher’s work or borrowed thematic material for the setting of an unrelated text.

WORKS

Editions: Marc’Antonio Ingegneri: Opera omnia, ed. M. Caraci Vela, A. Delfino and M.T.R. Barezzani (Lucca, 1994–) [M]La musica in Cremona nella seconda metà del secolo XVI e i primordi dell’arte monteverdiana, ed. G. Cesari, IMi, vi (1939) [C]M.A. Ingegneri: 7 Madrigale, ed. B. Hudson, Cw, cxv (1974) [H]

all published in Venice

sacred vocal

Liber primus missarum, 5, 8vv (1573); M ser.1, i

Sacrarum cantionum … liber primus, 5vv (1576)

Sacrarum cantionum … liber primus, 4vv (1586)

Liber secundus missarum, 5vv (1587)

Responsoria hebdomadae sanctae, Benedictus, & improperia … & Miserere, 4, 6vv (1588); ed. L. Virgili (Rome, 1942)

Lamentationes Hieremiae, 4vv (1588); ed. G. Acciai (Milan, 1993)

Liber sacrarum cantionum, 7–10, 12, 16vv, insts (ad lib) (1589); 1 ed. in Musica sacra, xv (Berlin, 1874)

Sacrae cantiones … liber primus, 6vv (1591); M ser.1, v

Liber secundus hymnorum, 4vv (1606)

2 sacred works, 3, 5vv, 1586¹, 1591¹³

[Liber primus hymnorum], 4vv, lost

secular

[Il primo libro de madrigali], 5, 8vv, lost

Il secondo libro de madrigali, 5vv (1572)

Il primo libro de madrigali, 4vv (?1570, lost; 2/1578); SCMad, xvi (1992)

Il secondo libro de madrigali … con due arie di canzon francese per sonare, 4vv (1579); SCMad, xvi (1993)

Il terzo libro de madrigali … con due canzoni francese, 5vv (1580); M ser.2, iii

Il quarto libro de madrigali, 5vv (1584); 13 in C

Il primo libro de madrigali, 6vv (1586); 1 in H

Il quinto libro de madrigali, 5vv (1587); 2 in H

Il sesto libro de madrigali, 5vv (1606)

10 madrigals, 4–8vv, 1577⁷, 1579², 1582⁵, 1583¹², 1586¹, 1588¹⁷, 1590¹¹, 1594⁶, 1595⁵; 1 canzonetta, 1591¹³

BIBLIOGRAPHY

EinsteinIM

F.X. Haberl: ‘Marcantonio Ingegneri: eine bio-bibliographische Studie’, KJb, xiii (1898), 78–94

R. Casimiri: ‘I “XXVII Responsoria” di M.A. Ingegneri attribuiti a Giov. Pierluigi da Palestrina’, NA, iii (1926), 17–40

E. Dohrn: Marc’Antonio Ingegneri als Madrigalkomponist (Hanover, 1936)

D. Arnold: ‘Monteverdi and his Teachers’, The Monteverdi Companion, ed. D. Arnold and N. Fortune (London, 1968, 2/1985 as The New Monteverdi Companion), 91–10

A. Newcomb: ‘The Three Anthologies for Laura Peverara 1580–1583’, RIM, x (1975), 329–45

P. Fabbri: ‘Concordanze letterarie e divergenze musicali intorno ai Madrigali a cinque voci … Libro primo di Claudio Monteverdi’, Musica e filologia, ed. M. di Pasquale (Verona, 1983), 53–83

G. Watkins and T. La May: ‘Imitatio and Emulatio: Changing Concepts of Originality in the Madrigals of Gesualdo and Monteverdi in the 1590s’, Claudio Monteverdi: Festschrift Reinhold Hammerstein zum 70. Geburtstag, ed. L. Finscher (Laaber, 1986), 453–87

A. Vassalli: ‘Il Tasso in musica e la trasmissione dei testi: alcuni esempi’, Tasso, la musica, i musicisti, ed. M.A. Balsano and T. Walker (Florence, 1988), 45–90

M. Mangani: ‘Marcantonio Ingegneri nel quarto centenario della morte’, Rinascimento, ii (1992), 311–25

L. Paget: ‘The Madrigals of Marc’Antonio Ingegneri’, Musiek & Wetenschap, ii/2 (1992), 1–28

Marc’Antonio Ingegneri: Cremona 1992

L. Paget: The Madrigals of Marc’Antonio Ingegneri (diss., U. of London, 1995)

L. Paget: ‘Monteverdi as discepolo: Harmony, Rhetoric and Psalm-Tone Hierarchies in the Works of Ingegneri and Monteverdi’, JMR, xv (1995), 149–75

STEVEN LEDBETTER/LAURIE STRAS

Ingelius, Axel Gabriel

(b Säkylä, 26 Oct 1822; d nr Uusikaupunki, 3 March 1868). Finnish composer, writer and critic. He studied classical philology and literature at the University of Helsinki, worked as a teacher in Turku from 1847, lectured on music history and wrote novels, short stories and plays as well as reviews on music for several newspapers in Turku and Helsinki. As a composer he was self-taught, but nevertheless wrote the first symphony ever composed in Finland (1847). Its third movement (‘Scherzo finnico’) is in 5/4 metre, characteristic of Finnish rune singing, although it otherwise lacks the distinctive features of rune melodies. His opera Junkerns förmyndare (N.H. Pinello, 1853) was based on a subject from 16th-century Finnish history, and he also wrote about 100 choruses and songs to Finnish poetry (J.L. Runeberg, Z. Topelius and others) as well as some German songs (Schiller, Heine). As one of the first representatives of Finnish national Romanticism in music and as a pioneer of music criticism he has a place in Finnish music history in spite of his inadequate compositional skills.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

F. Dahlström: ‘Den första inhemska symfonin’ [The first domestic symphony], Suomen musiikin vuosikirja 1965–66, 64–72

M. Ringbom: Musikkritikens första framträdande i Finland [The first appearance of music criticism in Finland] (Åbo, 1985)

E. Salmenhaara, ed.: Suomalaisia säveltäjiä [Finnish composers] (Keuruu, 1994), 127–9

F. Dahlström and E. Salmenhaara: Suomen musiikin historia, i: Ruotsin vallan ajasta romantiikkaan [A history of Finnish music, i: from Swedish rule to Romanticism] (Helsinki, 1995)

ILKKA ORAMO

Ingenhoven, Jan

(b Breda, 29 May 1876; d Hoenderloo, 20 May 1951). Dutch composer and conductor. He studied with Brandts Buys in Rotterdam and later with Mottl in Munich, where he conducted the Munich Madrigal Society from 1909 to 1912. This was a famous ensemble of soloists which made many concert tours under his direction. By conducting the Munich Orchestra Association and organizing music festivals he introduced a great deal of contemporary Dutch and French music into Germany. In 1913 Ingenhoven retired as a performing artist to devote himself primarily to composition. During World War I he resided in Switzerland and Paris. After 1930 he retired as a composer and returned to the Netherlands.

Ingenhoven’s preferred genres changed over time. During his first period in Munich he wrote orchestral works alongside pieces for chorus, vocal quartet and solo voice; before World War I he devoted himself to string quartets and from then until 1918 he composed chamber music for various trio combinations. In the years around 1920 he wrote the sonatas for violin and for cello and the final period was taken up with works for solo instruments within small ensembles.

Ingenhoven inherited certain stylistic elements from 16th-century music. His early works were always conceived polyphonically. Paired duets, imitation and polyrhythm are outstanding characteristics, especially in the vocal works from the Munich period. His song ‘Nous n’irons plus au bois’ (1909) from the 4 quatuors à voix mixtes, which Ingenhoven claimed to be the first atonal vocal work by a Dutch composer, is a brilliant example of this style.

In the chamber works Ingenhoven’s style became even more exclusive through a combination of the polyphonic elements and a new homophonic approach, with tonally indefinite chords, subtle dynamics and delicate timbre. He devised cantilena-like melodies, quasi-improvised as if he wanted to create Jugendstil in music. Although he used cellular motivic technique, the structure of his works always tends towards symmetry.

WORKS

(selective list)

Orch: 3 Symphonische Tonstücke: no.1, 1905, no.2, 1906, no.3, 1908; Symphonische Fantasie über Zarathustras Nachtlied, 1906; Balladen, Bar, small orch, 1909

Chbr: Str Qt no.1, 1907–8; Str Qt no.2, 1911; Wind Qnt, 1911; Pièces pour 3 instruments divers no.1, pf trio, 1912–13; Str Qt no.3, 1912–13; Pièces pour 3 instruments divers no.2, fl, cl, hp, 1914–15; Sonata, cl, pf, 1916–17; Pièces pour 3 instruments divers no.3, vn, vc, hp, 1918; Sonata, vc, pf, 1919; Sonata, vn, pf, 1919–20; Sonata, vn, pf, 1921; Sonata, vc, pf, 1922; Sonatina, cl, vn, 1925; works for chbr orch with solo inst

Vocal: 4 quatuors à voix mixtes (1903–9); other works for chorus; works for 1v, pf

Principal publishers: A.A. Noske, Senart, Tischer & Jagenberg, Wunderhorn

BIBLIOGRAPHY

MGG1 (E. Reeser)

D. Ruyneman: De componist Jan Ingenhoven (Amsterdam, 1938)

E. Reeser: Een eeuw Nederlandse muziek 1815–1915 (Amsterdam, 1950, 2/1986)

M. Hoedeman: ‘Stylistic Experiments in the Songs of Jan Ingenhoven’, TVNM, xxxiv/1 (1984), 68–78

L. Samama: Zeventig jaar Nederlandse muziek 1915–1985 (Amsterdam, 1986)

E. van Zoeren: De muziekuitgeverij A.A. Noske (1896–1926) (Buren, 1987)

A. Zielhorst: ‘Jan Ingenhoven and Jugendstil: Stylistic Development in the Four Vocal Quartets’,TVNM, xxxviii (1988), 123–35

ANTHONY ZIELHORST

Inghelbrecht, D(ésiré)-E(mile)

(b Paris, 17 Sept 1880; d Paris, 14 Feb 1965). French conductor and composer. The son of a viola player at the Opéra, he played the violin from an early age. He enrolled at the Conservatoire, studying solfège in Ambroise Thomas’ class and harmony with Taudou, but was later expelled, whereupon he joined an orchestra. His conducting début was at the Théâtre des Arts in 1908, where he directed 50 performances of Schmitt’s La tragédie de Salomé. He mixed with artists and writers at Madeleine Lemaire’s salon, and counted Reynaldo Hahn among his close friends. His most important musical friendship, however, was with Debussy: he directed the chorus for the première of Le martyre de St Sébastien in 1911, and continued to champion Debussy’s music, Pelléas et Mélisande especially, throughout his life.

As director of music at the Théâtre des Champs Elysées (1913), he conducted the first production in French of Musorgsky’s Boris Godunov. He went on to conduct at the Ballets Suédois, the Opéra-Comique (1924–5 and 1932–3), the Concerts Pasdeloup (1928–32), the Algiers Opera (1929–30) and the Paris Opéra (1945–50). In 1934 he formed the Orchestre National de la Radiodiffusion Française, inspired by the success of the BBC SO. During the war, he was suspended from his post for refusing to conduct La marseillaise while France was under occupation; he did not conduct again until the war was over. Besides his Debussy, Inghelbrecht’s performances of Ravel, Roussel and Schmidt were particularly outstanding.

Inghelbrecht gained early recognition as a composer with the five piano suites which make up La nursery (1905–11), a collection of childhood scenes presented with charmingly contrived naivety, which he later orchestrated. Less well known are the other orchestral suites, the operas and ballets. In these, the orchestration is polished and masterly, and the style richly eclectic, often suggestive of Fauré or Debussy. A number of works, such as Pour le jour de la première neige au vieux Japon (1908), the Six danses suédoises (1929) and the Ballade dans le goût irlandais (1939), explore foreign or ‘exotic’ influences. His last orchestral work, the suite Vézelay (1954), takes its name from the ancient pilgrimage town in which Inghelbrecht spent much of his life, and is one of his most bizarre, haunting creations. The Requiem (1941), written during World War II, is his only liturgical sacred work: the setting is theatrical and emotional, with echoes of Verdi in the ‘Dies Irae’ and some lyrical Italianate solo writing. His last work, the opera-ballet Le chêne et le tilleul (1960) represents, after its two comic predecessors (La nuit vénitienne, 1908 and Virage sur l’aile, 1947), the culmination of his operatic writing. Set in ancient Greece, its charming and initially directionless harmonies, in the style of Debussy, give no hint of the impending Bacchic frenzy of a wild dance with pungent rhythmic accompaniment.

WORKS

(selective list)

Stage: La nuit vénitienne (op, after A. de Musset), 1908; El greco (ballet), 1920; Le diable dans le beffroi (ballet after E.A. Poe), 1922; La métamorphose d’Eve (ballet), 1928; Jeu de couleurs [from La nursery, pf], 1933; Virage sur l’aile (operetta) (1947): Le chêne et le tilleul (opera-ballet, after J. de La Fontaine), 1960

Orch: Marine, 1903; La serre aux nénuphars, 1903; Automne, 1905; Pour le jour de la première neige au vieux Japon, 1908; Rhapsodie de printemps, 1910; 3 poèmes dansés, 1923–5; 6 danses suédoises 1929; Sinfonia breve da camera, 1930; La valse retrouvée, 1937; Ballade dans le goût irlandais, hp, orch 1939; Pastourelles sur des Noëls anciens, 1943; Ibériana, vn, orch, 1948; Vézelay, 1954

Vocal: Par-delà les fleuves taris, 1v, pf (1905); Au jardin de l’infante, 1v, pf (1910); Cantique des créatures, 1v, chorus, pf, orch (1910); 4 chansons populaires françaises, chorus, 1915; Vocalise-étude, 1v, pf (1929); La légende du grand Saint Nicolas, 1v, orch (1932); Requiem, S, T, Bar, SATB, orch, 1941; Tant que Noël durera, 1v, chorus, orch, 1943; Chantons jeunesse, chorus (1946); Mowgli (after R. Kipling), 1v, chorus, orch (1946)

Chbr: 2 esquisses antiques, fl, hp (1902); Nocturne, vc, pf (1905); Prélude et saltarelle, va, pf (1907); Qnt, c, hp, str qt (1917); Sonatine, fl, hp, 1919; Impromptu, va, pf, 1922; 4 Fanfares, wind (1932); Str Qt, 1954

Pf: 2 esquisses (1903); La nursery, 5 vols., pf/2 pf (1905–11), orchd n.d.; Suite ‘Petite russienne’ (1908); Paysages (1918); Dernières nurseries (1932)

Principal publishers: Durand, Salabert

WRITINGS

Comment on ne doit pas interpréter Carmen, Faust et Pelléas (Paris, 1933)

Diabolus in musica (Paris, 1933)

Mouvement contraire, souvenirs d’un musicien (Paris, 1947)

Le chef d’orchestre et son équipe (Paris, 1949)

with G. Inghelbrecht: Claude Debussy (Paris, 1953)

Le chef d’orchestre parle au public (Paris, 1957)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

D. Sordet: Douze chefs d’orchestre (Paris, 1924)

G. Samazeuilh: Musiciens de mon temps (Paris, 1947)

J. Bruyr: ‘D.-E. Inghelbrecht’, Musica: revue d’informations et d’actualités musicales, no.21 (1955), 24–7

A. Goléa: ‘Quelques chefs d’orchestre de notre temps’, Musica: revue d’informations et d’actualités musicales, no.14 (1955), 17–23

G. Bauer: ‘Un caractère au pupitre’, Musica: revue d’informations et d’actualités, no.133 (1965), 5–7

G.Inghelbrecht: D.E. Inghelbrecht et son temps (Neuchâtel, 1978)

NICHOLAS KAYE

Inghilleri, Giovanni

(b Porto Empedocle, Sicily, 9 March 1894; d Milan, 10 Dec 1959). Italian baritone. He was trained first as a pianist and discovered his voice while working as a répétiteur. In 1919 he made his début as Valentin in Faust at the Carcano, Milan, and then went on to sing with considerable success throughout Italy, at the Costanzi in Rome, the S Carlo in Naples (the first of many seasons in 1922, the last being 1948) and La Scala. He was enthusiastically received at his début in Pagliacci at Covent Garden in 1928, and returned there for the next two seasons and again in 1935. A highlight of his career in London was the 1930 Traviata with Ponselle and Gigli where his ‘steadiness of tone, flawless phrasing and ease of manner’ were commended as a model. He sang at Chicago in 1929, and later in France and Spain. In 1936 he appeared in the première of Malipiero’s Giulio Cesare in Genoa. He continued to prove his worth as a musicianly singer (he was also a composer of opera, ballet and songs) until his retirement in 1953, after which he taught singing in Milan. Recordings show the fine voice and authoritative style that distinguished him in the 1920s; when he returned to the studios after the war his style had deteriorated, though his tone remained impressive.

J.B. STEANE

Ingignieri [Ingignero], Marc’Antonio.

See Ingegneri, Marc’Antonio.

Inglott, William [Englitt]

(b 1554; d Norwich, 1621). English organist and composer. A chorister at Norwich Cathedral under his father Edmund Inglott in 1567–8, he was organist there from 1587 to 1591 and again from 1611 or earlier to 1621. In the intervening period, from 1597 to 1609 or later, William Inglott – presumably the same man – was organist of Hereford Cathedral. Inglott’s Short Service for four voices (Ven, TeD, Bs, Ky, Cr, Mag, Nunc) has been reconstructed by M. Walsh and R. Turbet (Wyton, nr Huntingdon, 1989), but for each of three anthems only a single part survives. There are two compositions for keyboard in the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book, GB-Cfm; there is also an untitled piece (a pavan) by ‘Englitt’ in Will Forster’s Virginal Book (GB-Lbl; ed. in MB, lv, 1989).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

R.T. Daniel and P. le Huray: The Sources of English Church Music, 1549–1660, EECM, suppl.i (1972)

W. Shaw: The Succession of Organists of the Chapel Royal and the Cathedrals of England and Wales from c1538 (Oxford, 1991)

JOHN CALDWELL/ALAN BROWN

Ingólfsson, Atli

(b Keflavík, 21 Aug 1962). Icelandic composer. He studied guitar and composition at the Reykjavík College of Music, graduating as a soloist in 1983. He received his degree in theory and composition a year later, and in 1986 he received a BA in philosophy from the University of Iceland. He continued his studies at the Conservatorio G. Verdi, Milan (1985–8), with Davide Anzaghi and Paolo Castaldi. He also studied with Franco Donatoni at the Accademia Chigiana, and privately with Gérard Grisey in Paris, where he also attended courses at the Conservatoire (1988–90) and at IRCAM. His music has been widely performed at European festivals and concert seasons by groups such as the Ensemble InterContemporain, Avanti!, the Arditti Quartet and the Ensemble L’Itinéraire. He has also published a book of poetry, and has written on the development of Icelandic prosody from a musical perspective. His output consists almost entirely of instrumental works, characterized by a brilliant, colourful musical sound. Several of his works reflect his interest in prosody, and rhythm and metrics may be said to occupy a central role in many of them (A verso, Le pas les pentes, Envoi, La métrique du cri). In his recent work he has increasingly explored the point of contact between timbre, harmony and rhythm, which in his String Quartet no.1 ‘HZH’ leads to a constant dissolution between prevalently timbral, harmonic or rhythmic situations, all of them issued from the same structural matrix.

WORKS

(selective list)

Qnt, fl, ob, cl, bn, hn, 1985; Millispil (Intermezzo), chbr ens, 1988; A verso, pf, 1990; Le pas, les pentes, chbr ens, 1991; O versa, chbr orch, 1991; Envoi, MIDI pf, chbr orch, 1995; La métrique du cri, chbr ens, 1996; Donec Vesper, perc trio, 1997; Blast, tpt, 1998; The Elve’s Accent, fl, cl, vn, vc, pf, 1998; Flecte Lapis, sampler kbd, 1998; Post Scriptum, picc, pf, 1998; Str Qt no.1 ‘HZH’, 1999

Principal publishers: Iceland Music Information Centre, Ricordi

BIBLIOGRAPHY

G. Bergendal: New Music in Iceland (Reykjavík, 1991)

M. Podhajski: Dictionary of Icelandic Composers (Warsaw, 1997)

ÁRNI HEIMIR INGÓLFSSON

Inharmonicity.

The deviation of a set of frequencies from an exact harmonic series. The most common musical application of the term is in discussion of the natural mode frequencies (or partials) of a stretched string. For a uniform, completely flexible string, the mode frequencies (or resonance frequencies) are members of the harmonic series represented by the following formula, in which n is the harmonic number (counting the fundamental as the first harmonic) and F is the fundamental frequency:

frequency of n^th harmonic = nF

The stiffness always present in a real string increases the frequency of each mode by an amount which depends on the mode number. The resulting inharmonic series of mode frequencies is given, to a good approximation, by the following formula:

frequency of n^th mode = nF(1 + bn²)

The inharmonicity coefficient b can be calculated if the properties of the string are known. For a string of fixed radius and sounding length, the inharmonicity diminishes as the tension is increased.

For the relatively supple strings normally used on bowed and plucked instruments, the inharmonicity coefficient is very small, and such strings can be treated for most musical purposes as having exactly harmonic natural mode frequencies. The inharmonicity of piano strings, on the other hand, is far from negligible. A typical bass string on an upright piano may have an inharmonicity coefficient b of 0·0002; in this case the stiffness will have an insignificant effect on the frequency of the first string mode, but will increase the frequency of the twentieth mode by nearly 8% (a sharpening of more than a semitone).

Since the frequency spectrum of the sound radiated by a plucked or hammered string consists of the inharmonic natural mode frequencies of the string, the degree of inharmonicity can have a significant effect on the perceived timbre of the sound. String inharmonicity is also generally considered to be one of the causes of the octave stretching found on well-tuned pianos.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

O.H. Shuck and R.W. Young: ‘Observations of the Vibrations of Piano Strings’, JASA, xv (1943), 1–11

D.W. Martin and W.D. Ward: ‘Subjective Evaluation of Musical Scale Temperament in Pianos’, JASA, xxxiii (1961), 582–5

H. Fletcher: ‘Normal Vibration Frequencies of a Stiff Piano String’, JASA, xxxvi (1964), 203–9

C. Carp: ‘The Inharmonicity of Strung Keyboard Instruments’, Acustica, lx (1986), 295–9

P. Barbieri: ‘The Inharmonicity of Musical String Instruments (1543–1993) with an Unpublished Memoir by J.-B. Mercadier (1784)’, Studi musicali, xxvii (1998), 383–419

N.H. Fletcher and T.D. Rossing: The Physics of Musical Instruments (New York, 2/1998)

MURRAY CAMPBELL

Inisisri

(b Semarang, Java, 1951). Indonesian composer. From a family of singers of kroncong, popular Indonesian music originating from Portuguese songs, he became musically active at an early age. A rock drummer with the group Spider in the 1970s, Inisisri joined the experimental music group Kelompok Kampungan in the 1980s. Formed in the 1970s in Yogyakarta by musical academics and actors, this group performed a fusion of classical, rock and gamelan music. After its break-up he joined experimental rock groups including Sirkus Barock, Swami and Kantata. In 1994 Inisisri set up the percussion ensemble Kahanan with players of Kuntulan music from the Banyuwangi region of East Java. Kuntalan is a fast, dynamic and often polyrhythmic form of traditional rebana (tambourine) music. Kanhanan has appeared on TV and at festivals including the Indonesian International Drum Festival, Jakarta Percussion Festival and Jakarta International Jazz Festival. Inisisri works regularly with other Indonesian experimental musicians.

FRANKI RADEN

Initial ascent.

(Ger. Anstieg).

In Schenkerian analysis (see Analysis, §II, 4), a method of Prolongation consisting of a preliminary conjunct ascent from a note in the tonic triad to the first note of the Urlinie. Ex.1, based on Schenker’s Der freie Satz (1935), fig.5, shows an ascent from the 3rd to the 5th of the C major chord, the 5th being the start of the Urlinie descent (indicated by capped numerals and a square bracket above).

As the initial ascent is preparatory to the Urlinie, not part of it, it need not be diatonic (see Der freie Satz, fig.38a). It may include a raised 4th, and so give the effect of a Tonicization of the dominant, as illustrated by Haydn’s ‘Emperor Hymn’ (see Stufe, ex.2); this example is exceptional because it shows the initial ascent covering the first 12 bars, i.e. fully three-quarters of the total length of the piece.

WILLIAM DRABKIN

Ink Spots, the.

American popular vocal group. Its members included Bill Kenny (b 1915; d 25 March 1978), Orville ‘Hoppy’ Jones (b 17 Feb 1905; d 18 Oct 1944), Charlie Fuqua and Ivory ‘Deek’ Watson. Their delivery of sentimental ballads was extremely popular during the 1940s and their close-harmony style directly influenced many black American vocal groups in the following decade. The group’s sound was built around Kenny’s tenor and falsetto voice and the rich bass of Jones. Kenny’s diction was precise and clear while Jones would talk the lyrics of a middle eight or verse section on such numbers as Whispering Grass or That’s When Your Heartaches Begin and would also occasionally sing the lead part. The standard Ink Spots arrangement featured the baritone of Watson, Fuqua’s second tenor and Jones’s bass harmonizing an accompaniment to Kenny’s ethereal lead voice. Watson also played guitar and Fuqua guitar and ukelele. After Jones’s death in 1944 the bass part was taken by Kenny’s brother Herb.

Among their many best-selling recordings were The Gypsy, Don’t get around much anymore, You’re breaking my heart and, with Ella Fitzgerald, Into each life some rain must fall. Although the Ink Spots provided the blueprint for the doo-wop groups of the 1950s, the original group split up in 1952 and for the next four decades at least two groups were touring America and Europe as the Ink Spots.

DAVE LAING

Inner Asia.

Region situated between the great sedentary populations of Eurasia and East Asia. The kernel of Inner Asia is historically the home of nomadic pastoralists. Crossing the borders of three contemporary states, it comprises Mongolia, the southern Siberian Russian Republics of Tuva (Tyva) and Buryatia, and the Chinese autonomous regions of Inner Mongolia and Xinjiang (fig.1). Contemporary geopolitical borders are comparatively recent and do not coincide with musical landscapes created in performance. Moreover, as with other cultural areas, the borders of Inner Asia are diffuse, and musical interactions with neighbouring areas common. Traditional musical genres and forms share some characteristics with Tibetan music, with those of southern Siberian peoples such as the Yakuts, Khakassy and Gorny Altais, as well as with Central Asian nomads such as the Kazakhs and Kyrgyz, who also spill over into contemporary Inner Asia (see Kazakhstan, §1–5, Kyrgyzstan, §1–4, Uzbekistan, §1, Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, Central Asia, China, §IV, 5(ii), Mongol music).

The musical practices of Inner Asian peoples are inextricably bound up with their ethnicities, histories, environments and religions. As a region it presents a complex ethnic and linguistic picture, but its indigenous population is basically Mongol, with languages that belong to the Altaic family. There are two main divisions of Mongols; since the 13th century the Western Mongols and Eastern Mongols have periodically been at war. It was the Eastern Mongols who first succumbed to the Chinese Qing dynasty during the 17th century, and this remains a contentious issue.

For most of their histories, Mongols have hunted and lived off the products of their domesticated animals (horses, cattle, sheep, goats, camels). The majority still live in easily transportable round felt tents in environments that are inhospitable and often dangerous. It is perhaps not surprising that their folk-religious, shamanic and Buddhist beliefs include spirits that both comprise and inhabit nature. They communicate with and seek to influence these spirits through a range of musical practices. Each region has had to endure the cultural onslaught of communism and has coped with it in different ways.

2. Secular contexts.

3. Religious contexts.

CAROLE PEGG

1. Historical connections.

In contemporary performances of song, music and dance, the peoples of Inner Asia create connections across contemporary geopolitical borders with peoples who once belonged to the same historical states and confederations. Khalkha Mongols and several other groups in Mongolia (e.g. Mongol Urianghais), as well as some groups in Inner Mongolia (e.g. Ordos Mongols), are connecting to the period of Chinggis Khan and the Mongolian Empire (1206–1368); others are creating associations with the Jungar State (Züün Gar Uls) (1630 to late 1750s), which encompassed most of west Mongolia, part of Tuva, Jungaria (south-west of the Altai mountains), eastern Turkestan (present-day Xinjiang) and Buryat territories around Lake Baikal (present-day Buryatia). Such affiliations broadly relate to the division between Western and Eastern Mongols. Vocal and instrumental genres of Western Mongol or Oirat groups share characteristics with groups north, south and west of current Mongolian borders, looking westwards to Central Asia rather than eastwards to the Eastern Mongols, who include the Khalkhas of central Mongolia. Overtone-singing (höömii), the extraordinary vocal technique in which a single performer simultaneously produces two or three separate vocal lines, is traditionally performed only by Western Mongol groups (but including those Khalkhas who live in west Mongolia and are referred to by Mongols as ‘Western Khalkhas’) and in Tuva, as well as among neighbouring peoples such as the Khakassians and Gorny or Mountain Altais. Similarly, use of the deep gutteral voice (häälah) in Western Mongol epic performance connects with singers in Tuva and looks westwards to the Central Asian areas of southern Uzbekistan and southern Turkmenistan; in the latter the process is called hümlemek (cf Mongol höömilöh). The three-holed end-blown pipe, on which a performer plays a melody from harmonics while producing a vocal drone, is played by Altai Urianghais (see Tsuur), Tuvans (shöör) and Kazakhs of west Mongolia (sybyzgy); in the Altai mountain region of Xinjiang province, China; and among Kazakhs and Kyrgyz (chöör) in Russia. It is similar to the pipes, such as the Turkish kaval, of other pastoral peoples in Central Asia. The two-string fiddle, called Ikil by Western Mongols, igil by Tuva Urianghais and ikili by people of the Gorny Altai, is tuned and used differently from the horse-head fiddle (morin huur; see Huur, §1) played by Khalkhas, Buryats and Inner Mongolian groups. The biy-dance is performed by Western but not Eastern Mongols, and the two-string lute is played by west Mongolian Altai Urianghais (Topshuur), Altais (topshúr) and Tuvans (toshpulúr).

Eastern Mongols who live in northern, central and eastern Mongolia share musical genres and instruments with Buryat Mongols and groups in southern Siberia, as well as with Mongols in Inner Mongolia, rather than with the Western Mongols. The two- and four-string tube spike fiddle of Buryat Mongols, huchir, is related to the southern Siberian ducheke of the Nanai and tïgrïk of the Nivkhi, as well as to the two-string Huuchir and four-string dörvön chihtei huur. These are used to accompany ‘connected verse’ (holboo, qolbuga) in musical narratives (bengsen-ü üliger) and tales of literary origin (bengsen-üliger) by Jaruud, Üzemchin and Ar Horchin Mongols in south-east Mongolia and by Jaruud, Üzemchin and Ordos Mongols in Inner Mongolia.

There are many close religious, political and cultural links with Tibet, which ruled over most of this area from the 7th century to the 10th. Oral and manuscript versions of the Gesar epic, which centres on a Tibetan hero of that period, have been found across the ethnic Tibetan culture area (see Tibetan music), as well as among Tuvans, Khalkha Mongols, Oirats, Buryats, Inner Mongols and Monguors. Affiliations between Eastern Mongols and Tibetans are displayed in their traditional wedding processes (see §2 below) and use of the horse-head fiddle (Mongol huur) and side-blown bamboo flute Limbe (Tibetan gling-bu). The latter is also played in China (ti-zu).

In the 20th century Mongolia, Tuva and Buryatia were subjected to Soviet communism, Inner Mongolia, Xinjiang and Tibet to Chinese communism. Under Soviet communism, the formula ‘national in form, socialist in content’ involved the elimination of diversity and the neutralization of musical traditions. Musical traditions of different ethnic groups were amalgamated, subordinated to the style of the majority group in each country or region and then fused with European art forms and put into theatres. Instruments were adapted to enable production of sounds that fitted the European tempered scale and harmonic system. Traditional musics and dances were ‘folklorized’. Folk ensemble orchestras were created in which ‘national’ instruments played together with European art instruments. Dances such as the biy-dance and the religious dance-drama tsam were cross-fertilized with ballet steps (Pegg, 2001). Similarly, in Inner Mongolia, designated an autonomous region of the People's Republic of China since its foundation in 1949, Mongol music came under the influence of the Party's programme of the Cultural Revolution (1966–76), when artist organizations took the message of ‘New China’ to the whole country, and local musicians were incorporated into a state union (Pegg, 1992).

2. Secular contexts.

Musical activities take place in herding and hunting contexts as well as during domestic and public celebrations. Inner Asian nomads are herders of domestic animals (sheep, cows, horses, goats and camels or yaks) and hunters of wild animals. A variety of vocal sounds, including whistling, calls, melodious short-songs (magtaar) and overtone-singing (höömii), are used to call and control animals and birds. Mongols use musical remedies for domesticated animals that reject their young. For a ewe, the song includes the sounds ‘toig, toig, toig’; for goats, ‘chüü, chüü, chüü’; for cows, ‘hoov, hoov, hoov’; and for camels they play the huur and sing. (Mares never reject foals.) The morin huur or ikil is often used to soothe restless horses and camels, sometimes hung from a camel's hump so that the wind continually sounds the strings. The fiddle is used when animals are giving birth and thus came to symbolize prosperity. Among Kazakhs, the end-blown pipe sybyzgy is played for the same purpose.

Herders spend many lonely hours in the steppes and mountains and use music and song for entertainment. Mongols say that long-songs (see Mongol music, §II, 1(i)) developed because of the need to fill their vast territory with sounds. The side-blown flute limbe and end-blown pipe tsuur are favoured by men because they are light and easily tucked into the belt. The jew's harp (aman huur) is played by both men and women.

Hunters, always male, use ritual musics before, during and after the hunt. Prior to the hunt, epics (tuul’) or praise-songs (magtaal) are performed in order to charm the spirits into giving game (see Mongol music, §II, 1(iii) and (iv)). Hunters also offer tsatsal (‘milk-aspersions’) and purify their saddle thongs with juniper while emitting rhythmical verses to the spirits. Altai Urianghais perform a special long-song, Alag Altain Shild, to instigate the hunter's departure. Hunters use a variety of vocal and instrumental sounds to lure animals, including imitating animals, whistling, singing and höömii. The marmot-hunting masked dance (see Mongol music, §II, 3) is performed by Mongols and Tuvans. After the kill, verses are intoned over the dead animal and long-songs performed on the journey home.

Official celebrations occur in both private and public space. Common to many Inner Asian peoples is the family celebration, a major occasion for music-making within the round felt tent as part of rites of passage. Traditionally, annual time is reckoned according to the lunar calendar. Ritual celebrations are held to bring in the New Year in the first month (February); to celebrate the arrival of summer when taking first milk from mares in the fifth month (June); to signal the close of autumn when marking foals with the brand of clan or tribe before releasing them and the mares into the wild; to inaugurate winter when settling into an appropriate new encampment; and to continue the revolution of the seasons by ‘beckoning good fortune’. Life-cycle celebrations include a child's first hair-cutting; the wedding process (including felt-making and setting up a new tent); departure for travel, and funerals. Traditional wedding processes among Tibetan and Mongol groups are highly theatrical, including arrow rituals, wish-prayers for the couple's new dwelling, and competitions; they involve masters of ceremonies who use oratorical skills to orchestrate the unfolding dramas of both sides. Among Mongols, official festivals in public spaces include the ‘Festival of Three Manly Sports’ (Eriin Gurvan Naadam), with its competitions in horse-racing, wrestling and archery; these also involve performances of songs and praise-recitations (tsol) (see Mongol music, §II, 1(vi); see also Pegg, 2001). Traditionally linked to folk-religious rites and Buddhist beliefs and practices, the timing of the games was crucial, since they were believed to influence analogous events in the world. They were often combined with rituals performed at cairns or oboo.

3. Religious contexts.

Three predominant religious complexes intermingle in Inner Asia: folk religion, Shamanism and Buddhism. Islam, practised by Kazakhs and Kyrgyz in west Mongolia and in Xinjiang, looks to the religious and musical traditions of Central rather than Inner Asia. The three Inner Asian religious complexes include mosaics of performing practices and discourses rather than discrete or fixed sets of practices or beliefs. They are syncretic and overlapping. The power of sound to communicate with spirits is recognized by all three systems, and circular movements in the ‘path of the sun’ are used by all in a range of performing practices. For instance, in folk-religious rituals the Mongolian masked dancer twirls a yak's tail during marmot hunting, the Buryat Mongol performs the yoohor dance in a circle, Mongolian child riders encircle a tethering line while performing the ritual song giingoo, champion Mongolian and Tuvan wrestlers encircle a standard as they perform the Khan Guruda dance, and umpires in archery competitions accompany their song with circular gestures as they invite the arrows to meet their mark. The circular gesture occurs in shamanic seances when spirits are called, and the shaman or shamaness spins while beating the drum. In Buddhist rituals, such as the masked dance-drama ’cham, dancer-lamas move clockwise along a path marked by two concentric circles.

(i) Folk-religious practices.

Musical performances arising from folk-religious beliefs are essential to individual, family and clan life. These are performed by laypeople or by male ritual specialists, such as the Mongolian bagshi, who makes sacrifices and offerings, consecrates horses to spirits, pronounces banishing spells and makes divinations, and tuul'ch (epic bards), who use their performances to accomplish exorcism and weather-magic and to invite prosperity, fertility and health.

Vocal repertories of folk-religious practitioners include praise-songs and epics as well as a range of rhythmical utterances such as wish-prayers, well-wishing words and anointments, invocations and curses. The continuum of sounds used in imitation of natural phenomena and animate beings in order to negotiate with spirits ranges from snorting and blowing to chanting and singing (see also Tuvan music, Overtone-singing). Performance occurs within soundscapes in which the noises of nature – made by wind, water, animals and birds – have the power to communicate with, and effect, the lives and bodies of humans, and in which humans, by imitating those sounds, can in turn influence and affect all aspects of nature, including the spirits.

As among those of Central Asian countries, such as the baxshi or zhïrau of Uzbekistan, the bards of Inner Asia use a deep, guttural vocal tone during epic performance to contact the spirit world and to heal or to control nature. Inner Asian bards create a ritual space, an imagined world linked to the real world by a system of 13s but apart from it, in which the epic drama may unfold and the power of performance be activated (see Mongol music, §III, 1). Epic heroes, like other armed heroes on horseback, are the focus of religious cults. Star-gods are contacted by performances of incantations, wish-prayers, long-songs and epics, and dances are performed to the goddess of fire.

(ii) Shamanism.

Shamanisms include a range of ritual specialists, whose discourses and practices vary according to historical, regional and political contexts. In ancient times, the male shaman helped men in hunting and war, while the female shaman made sacrifices to the fire of her clan. Prior to the 13th century, male and female shamans were believed to have equal powers as Protector and Guardian Spirits. During the period of the Mongol Empire (1206–1368), shamans were powerful political as well as spiritual advisors. Books, manuals and manuscripts on rites, ancestor worship, temple ceremonies, chiromancy, scapulimancy, dreams, prayers, hymns and the hagiography of ‘Great Shamans and Shamanesses’ were destroyed by Buddhists from the 16th century to the 19th and many of their practices and beliefs assimilated. In Mongolia, ‘white’ shamans accepting the new ‘yellow’ religion of Buddhism were transformed into ‘yellow’ shamans who were able to practice in monasteries, for instance in Dayan Derhe Sharavliin Hüree, situated on the border of Mongolia and Buryatia. Despite continued attempts to eradicate or assimilate Shamanism during the dissemination of both Buddhism and communism, shamanizing secretly continued and is once again flourishing. In contemporary practice, female shamans continue to be viewed as powerful. The practitioner's performance is oral and is dramatized and improvised according to whether the ceremony is for healing, advice on hunting or divination. In contrast to Eliade's archetypal male shaman who engaged in ‘magical flight’, male or female practitioners may choose to enter dissociated or semi-dissociated states. They employ a range of vocal and instrumental sounds while shamanizing and use their own distinctive melodies for invoking spirits and for rendering the spirit's advice. Percussive non-vocal and non-instrumental sounds are produced by small bells and miniature metal weapons or pins attached to the shaman's drum, staff, switch, rattle, drumstick and costume (see fig.2). The shaman may leap, spin, imitate riding and walking, or appear to dance or embody particular birds or animals.

The single-headed frame drum is the most frequently used shaman instrument among Inner Asian and Siberian peoples, symbolizing the saddle animal on which the shaman travels to the upper or lower worlds to negotiate with spirits or the mount that carries the invoked spirit to the shaman. The animal is identified with that of the skin from which the drumhead is made. Iron pins are attached to the back of the drum by means of a cross stick or wire (see Hets). Tuvans, Buryats and Darhats use a horse-headed staff or a staff with two or three fork-like branches, thought to fulfil the same function. This is beaten by a hide drumstick or thrust back and forth during invocations. For Tuvans, the staff is the first requisite of shamanship. As the practitioner's powers increase, an orba (drumstick) and düngür (frame drum) is requested during ‘trance’. Senior Darhat shamans beat a drum. Buryats use the staff or drum to call ‘black’ spirits (haryn duudlaga).

Similarly, the jew's harp is used at different stages of the shaman's career or in different contexts according to ethnicity (Pegg, 2001).

(iii) Tantric Buddhist practices.

Mahayana or ‘Great Vehicle’ Buddhism, which included Tantrism (Vajrayana), travelled from India to Tibet and was later disseminated throughout Inner Asia. In Tibet four great religious traditions emerged: first Nyingmapa (Tibetan rnying-ma-pa), then Kargyudpa (Tibetan bka'-brgyud-pa) and Saskyapa (Tibetan sa-skya-pa) and finally, the reformist Gelugpa (Tibetan dge-lugs-pa). During the 13th century, powerful Tibetan monasteries competed for the favours of Mongol leaders. The Saskyapa school emerged as successful when ’Phags pa initiated Khubilai Khan in the practices of Hevajra (Tibetan kye rdo-rje) Tantra in exchange for sovereignty over Tibet. During the 16th century, the Gelugpa order gained predominance in the area, but the struggle between this (colloquially termed ‘Yellow Hat’) and the others (collectively termed ‘Red Hats’) continued to relate to the broader political situation. In contemporary Mongolia, the ‘Red Hats’ are viewed as being less formal and closer to the people.

Performance styles and repertories vary between the four religious traditions. For instance, with reference to the melodies played on shawms (Tibetan rgya-gling, Mongol bishgüür), the Saskyapa tradition is known for its majestic style; Gelugpa for its sparse use of melodies; Kargyudpa for melodies with an extremely slow ascent to the highest pitch; and Nyingmapa for ‘folksong-like’ tunes. Similarly, there are clear differences in dance movements: Nyingmapa music and dance are very elaborate, with much movement; Gelugpa are ‘classical’, with minimal movements in line with their ideal ‘not to make a show’. There were also variations within these performance traditions, between subdivisions of these religious schools as well as between monasteries within the same tradition. In addition, performance traditions and repertories of monasteries in different states drew on Tibetan traditions but adapted them to local needs.

Scriptural recitation, together with liturgical performance, constitutes the cyclical basis of monastic life. Traditionally, each monastery had its own manuscripts containing song texts for chants and songs, and notations (Tibetan dbangs-yig, Mongol yan-yig) (see Mongol music, §III, 3(i)). Chants performed by lamas during religious rituals were in Tibetan (with a small element of Sanskrit) and were interpersed with sounds of gongs, cymbals or wind instruments. In recent decades, ethnomusicologists and organologists have worked increasingly on the performance of Tibetan ritual (see Tibetan music), though there are few sources in European languages on the forms that notation took in Mongolia or on any Mongolian Buddhist performance traditions. H. Haslund-Christensen's recordings made in 1936–7 at Wang-Yin monastery in Inner Mongolia have not been published. P.J. van Oost produced a short article, and C.A. Pegg has published a précis of ongoing contemporary research.

The basic instrumentaria in Buddhist monasteries across Inner Asia is the same: a small hand-bell (Tibetan dril-bu, Mongol honh) held in the left hand together with the ritual sceptre (Mongol dorje) in the right; thigh-bone trumpets, usually played in pairs for invocation of fierce deities and to signal entry of masked dancers in the 'chams; long, metal bass trumpets and white, end-blown conch-shell trumpets; wooden shawms; and a range of cymbals and double- and single-headed frame drums. In monasteries in Mongolia and Inner Mongolia, additional instruments were traditionally to be found: the half-tube zither Yatga in Mongolian areas, the gong-chime (Chin. yün-lo, Mongol duuduram) and free-reed mouth organ (Chin. sheng) in Chinese areas.

The Buddhist 'chams (Mongol tsam) is a masked Tantric dance-drama performed on public occasions. In Tibet, 'chams is thought to have developed out of a fusion of Indian Buddhist ritual dance (Tibetan gar), Indian Buddhist theatre and pre-Buddhist Tibetan masked ceremonial dances performed by Bonpo monks and lay men and women (see Tibetan music, §II, 2(ii)). A dance book ('chams-yig) of iconographical, choreographical, musical and ritual information, written mostly by the fifth Dalai Lama, Ngag Dbang Blo Bzang Rgya Mtsho, when he ruled Tibet (1617–82) but completed by later spiritual heads of Gelugpa, is based primarily on Nyingmapa and Saskyapa traditions. As Buddhism spread, the structure of the dance-drama remained, though characters were given local interpretations and new ones added. In all 'chams, movements of dancer-lamas metaphysically create the spheres of heaven, wind, water and fire: the iconographic details of the Mandala. Dancer-lamas invoke and embody Tantric deities for those spheres together with their retinues; malevolent spirits, also created and invited, are forced to enter a human effigy (Tibetan linga) previously made of dough, wax or paper and then magically destroyed; and parts of the ‘corpse’, i.e. the dead bodies of the spirits, are offered to the deities of the Mandala.

In areas where the Gelugpa order predominated, non-Buddhist forms such as epics were considered as ideological weapons of rival religious complexes. In areas where ‘Red Hat’ orders prevailed, lamas protected and patronized epics by inviting bards to the monasteries to perform; indeed, sometimes lamas themselves performed. In west Mongolia this gave rise to legends that some lamas were reincarnations of epic heroes. Dani-Hürel, hero of a lengthy Bait and Dörvet epic cycle, was said to have been reborn in the Bait Dejeelin monastery, where he held the grade of bagsh-gegeen. Similarly, epic heroes became identified as Buddhist gods. Other non-Buddhist musical genres, such as long-songs and full-scale musical dramas, were performed in the monasteries of ‘Red Hat’ orders (see Mongol music, §III, 3(iv)).

2. The 16th-century consort In Nomine.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

P.J. van Oost: ‘La musique chez les Mongols des Urdus’, Anthropos, x–xi (1915–16), 358–96

A. Mostaert: Textes oraux ordos (Peip'ing, 1937)

V. Diószegi: ‘Ethnogenic Aspects of Darkhat Shamanism’, Acta Orientalia Academiae Scientiarum Hungaricae, xvi/1 (1963), 55–81

K. Vertkov, G. Blagodatov and E. Yazovitskaya: Atlas muzïkal'nïkh instrumentov narodov SSSR [Atlas of the musical instruments of the peoples of the USSR] (Moscow, 1963)

A.N. Aksenov: Tuvinskaia narodnaia muzyka [Tuvin folk music] (Moscow, 1964)

G. Tucci: ‘Die Religionen Tibets’, Die Religionen Tibets und der Mongolei, ed. G. Tucci and W. Heissig (1970; Eng. trans., 1980)

A.N. Aksenov: ‘Tuvin Folk Music’, AsM, iv/2 (1973), 7–18

R. de Nebesky-Wojkowitz: Tibetan Religious Dances: Text and Translation of the ’Chams yig, ed. C. von Fürer-Haimendorf (Paris, 1976)

M. Slobin: Music of Central Asia and the Volga-Ural Peoples (Bloomington, IN, 1977)

L.P. Potapov: ‘The Shaman Drum as a Source of Ethnographical History’, Shamanism in Siberia, ed. V. Diószegi and M. Hoppál (Budapest, 1978), 169–80

T. Ellingson: ‘Dancers in the Marketplace: Tibetan Religious Dances’, AsM, x/2 (1979), 159–78

Rakra Tethong: ‘Conversations on Tibetan Musical Traditions’, AsM, x/2 (1979), 5–22

S.I. Vainshtein: ‘A Musical Phenomenon Born in the Steppes’, Soviet Anthropology and Archaeology, xviii/3 (1979–80), 68–81

A. Perris: ‘Music as Propaganda: Art at the Command of Doctrine in the People's Republic of China’, EthM, xxvii/1 (1983), 1–28

B. Nimri Aziz: ‘On Translating Oral Traditions: Ceremonial Wedding Poetry from Dingri’, Soundings in Tibetan Civilization, ed. B. Nimri Aziz and M. Kapstein (New Delhi, 1985), 115–31

C.A. Pegg: ‘The Revival of Ethnic and Cultural Identity in West Mongolia: The Altai Uriangkhai tsuur, the Tuvan shuur and the Kazak sybyzgy’, Journal of the Anglo-Mongolian Society, xii/1–2 (1991), 71–84

C.A. Pegg: ‘The Epic is Dead, Long Live the Üliger?’, Epensymposium VI: Bonn 1988, Fragen der mongolischen Heldendichtung, v (Wiesbaden, 1992), 194–206

M. van Tongeren: Xöömej in Tuva: New Developments, New Dimensions (diss., U. of Amsterdam, 1994)

T. Levin: The 100,000 Fools of God: Musical Travels in Central Asia (Bloomington, IN, 1996)

S.I. Vainshtein: ‘The Tuvan (Soyot) Shaman's Drum and the Ceremony of its Enlivening’, Folk Beliefs and Shamanistic Traditions in Siberia, ed. V. Diószegi and M. Hoppál (Budapest, 1996), 127–34

C.A. Pegg: Mongolian Music, Song and Oral Narrative: Performing Diverse Identities (Seattle, 2001) [incl. CD]

For further bibliography see Mongol music, Tuvan music, Tibetan music, China, §IV, 5 and Russian federation, §III

recordings

Mongolie: chants kazakhs et tradition épique de l'Ouest, coll. A. Desjacques, Ocora C580051 (1985/R)

Turkmenistan: la musique des Bakhshy, Musée d'Ethnographie de Genève, AIMP, xxii (1988–90)

Tuva: Voices from the Center of Asia, Smithsonian Folkways SF40017 (1990)

Huun-Huur-Tu: 60 Horses in my Herd, perf. Huun-Huur-Tu, Shanachie 64050 (1993)

Musiques de Mongolie, Buda BCD 92591–2 (1993)

Yenesei-Punk, perf. Yat-kha (A. Saaia, K.A. Akym and A. Kuvezin), Global Music Center GM CD 9504 (1995)

Chants épiques et diphoniques: Asie centrale et Sibérie, Inedit-MCM W260067 (1996)

Mongolie: chamans et lamas, coll. A. Desjacques, Ocora C560059 (1999)

Inner Temple.

One of the London Inns of Court. See London, §III.

Innes, Frederick Neil

(b London, 29 Oct 1854; d Chicago, 31 Dec 1926). American trombonist and bandmaster of English birth. At 13 he joined the band of the First Life Guards, of which his father was a member, while studying the violin, piano, trombone and harmony. In 1874 he went to Boston, where he played at the Howard Street Theater and in the Boston Cadet Band. In 1876 he performed with Patrick Gilmore at the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition, then moved to New York. By the end of 1879 he was a soloist with the Gilmore Band. In 1880 Innes began playing difficult cornet solos on his trombone, and a ‘War of Blasters’ ensued between Innes and the infuriated Jules Levy, ‘The Cornet King’, much to the delight of Gilmore’s audiences at Manhattan Beach. Except for a brief trip to Europe, where he acquired a reputation as a soloist in Hamburg, St Petersburg, Berlin and Paris, Innes remained with the Gilmore Band until 1883. A Paris newspaper called him the ‘Paganini of the trombone’. He formed his first band in 1887; from 1888 to 1896 he directed the 13th Regiment Band of Brooklyn, New York, and then Innes’ Orchestral Band. With these bands he toured the USA and Canada, performing in various cities, at industrial fairs and at expositions in Chicago (1893), Buffalo (1901), St Louis (1904), Seattle (1909) and San Francisco (1915). In 1914 he moved to Denver, where he formed a municipal band. In 1916 he founded the Innes School of Music, which offered home-study courses for bandmasters, orchestra directors and instrumentalists. After his wife's death he moved to Chicago in 1923 to become president of the Conn National School of Music.

Sousa and Clarke considered Innes the greatest trombone player of his time. As a band director, he is recognized as the first to have included the string bass, harp and chimes as band instruments, to have devoted entire programmes to the compositions of Wagner and Beethoven, and to have played complete symphonies. He conducted from memory, even when performing two different programmes daily for several weeks. The Innes School had a great impact on the development of instrumental music education in America. Innes's compositions include two comic operas, cornet and trombone solos (including Sea Shells Waltz and Phenomenal Polka), orchestral suites (including A Trip to the World’s Fair, Pictures of the Rockies and Out in the West), marches (including The Chronicle Telegraph, The Atlanta Constitution, Gloria Washington, Love is King and The Washington Times), waltzes, overtures, humoresques and cantatas.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

F.R. Seltzer: ‘Famous Bandmasters in Brief’, Jacobs’ Band Monthly, iv/11 (1919), 18ff

A.H. Rackett: ‘Frederick Neil Innes: the Supreme Master’, Musical Messenger, xix/4 (1923), 3ff [a very similar article, by ‘A.H. Hackett’, appeared in Jacobs’ Band Monthly, viii/5 (1923), 12ff]

F.N. Innes: ‘The Musical Possibilities of the Wind Band’, Music Supervisor’s Journal, x/5 (1924), 40ff

L.W. Chidester: ‘Frederick Neil Innes and his Band’, The Instrumentalist, ix/May (1955), 18–19; x/March (1956), 18, 26; x/April (1956), 29, 77

G.D. Bridges: Pioneers in Brass (Detroit, 1965), 94–6

G.M. Campbell: ‘Bandsman Frederick Neil Innes as Trombonist’, Journal of Band Research, vi/2 (1970), 30–32

D.M. Guion: ‘Four American Trombone Soloists before Arthur Pryor: some Preliminary Findings’, ITA Journal, xx/4 (1992), 32–3, 36–7

RAOUL F. CAMUS

Innocentio del Cornetto.

See Alberti, Innocentio.

In Nomine

(Lat.).

Title given to a number of exclusively English instrumental compositions of the 16th and 17th centuries that use the Sarum antiphon Gloria tibi Trinitas as their cantus firmus. The In Nomine was the most conspicuous single form in the early development of English consort music, over 150 examples surviving by some 58 composers from Taverner to Purcell.

1. Origin.

3. The 17th-century consort In Nomine.

4. In Nomines for keyboard and other media.

5. Other In Nomines.

6. Contemporary comment.

7. Later use of the In Nomine.

EDITIONS

WARWICK EDWARDS

1. Origin.

The origin of the term In Nomine may be traced to a single work, John Taverner’s six-part Mass Gloria tibi Trinitas. The cantus firmus on which this work is built was an antiphon sung at first Vespers on Trinity Sunday in the Sarum rite (ex.1). The Benedictus section of Taverner’s mass falls into two unequal parts, the second setting the words ‘In nomine Domini’ for four of the six voices. This extract seems to have become detached from the main work and circulated as a separate movement. Some idea of its popularity over the 100 or so years following may be gathered from the number of surviving arrangements. With the original Latin text it is found in GB-Lbl Add.4900, f.61v, as a piece for voice and lute (but with the latter part torn out). The words became ‘In trouble and adversity’ in Day’s Certaine Notes (1565) and Lbl Add.15166, f.88v, and ‘O give thanks’ in Lbl Add.30480–84, f.53r etc. The movement was also arranged for keyboard and for lute, but most sources present it in four textless parts. Naturally the title attached to these is not that of the cantus firmus in the second lowest part but the incipit of the original words, ‘In nomine’.

2. The 16th-century consort In Nomine.

It is not difficult to appreciate the reasons for the acceptability of the In Nomine section of Taverner’s mass as instrumental part music in the second half of the 16th century. The normal complexities of early Tudor church music are absent, for it is the only section of the mass in which the whole of the plainchant melody appears in notes of equal length (breves), in duple time and with only three accompanying parts. Of no less importance, it is a fine piece in its own right and not surprisingly attracted imitations using the same cantus firmus, the same title and also in many cases similar melodic material. Taverner’s opening phrase, derived from the plainchant (ex.2a), was taken up by over a score of composers, and a later phrase (ex.2b) was used as an opening by Thorne, Strogers, Bevin, Parsons and Byrd. But stylistically Taverner’s In Nomine stands apart from the main repertory, which in the 16th century is more strictly imitative in the manner of chansons by Flemish composers. A gap of some 20 years may separate Taverner’s composition (?before 1530) from that of its successors, though the tradition must have been established by the end of the 1550s. In Nomines exist by Thomas Preston and Robert Golder who died in the mid-1560s, and the earliest extant source of In Nomines, the Mulliner Book (Lbl Add.30513: Taverner, Johnson, White), has been dated about this time. One of the major sources (Lbl Add.31390) bears the date 1578, by which time the form had undergone considerable development which was not to be taken substantially further until the beginning of the next century.

The favoured number of parts seems to have risen during this early phase from four to five: Lbl Add.31390 contains a number of four-part In Nomines ‘brought up to date’ with an added part of inferior quality. The plainchant is still most commonly found in the second part down with its final on D, but it may occur in any part (less commonly the lower two) and transposed to G or A. A close relationship may be seen between many of the settings; the opening of Parsons’s popular five-part In Nomine (ex.3), for example, was copied by Alcock and Woodcock, and Byrd was clearly influenced by the whole piece in his fifth In Nomine (numbering in Collected Works, xvii). This ‘friendly emulation’, as Peacham put it, inevitably led to the production of ‘clever’ pieces. The plainchant appears in notes of five-minim value in settings by Parsley, Strogers and Tye, while Picforth contrived an In Nomine in which each part has a different note value maintained throughout. No less contrived but with a more musical result are In Nomines that use only one point (Tye, Parsons, White).

The most prolific writer of In Nomines was Christopher Tye, many of whose pieces bear nicknames. His work is often referred to in connection with the growth of an instrumental style in English consort music. The In Nomine ‘Rounde’, for instance, has an exceptionally wide overall range of parts (D to c'''), and the In Nomine ‘Saye so’ has many wide leaps and awkward melodic lines (ex.4a). Particularly striking is the opening to the In Nomine ‘Crye’ (ex.4b). (For an illustration of Tye’s In Nomine ‘Blamles’, see Sources of instrumental ensemble music to 1630, fig.4.) Tye’s In Nomines, especially the more original ones, do not appear to have been widely circulated and few composers seem to have been influenced by them. More interesting from the point of view of the development of a style distinct from vocal forms are the In Nomines by Tallis, Robert Parsons (i), Robert White, Nicholas Strogers, Alfonso Ferrabosco (i) and a number of lesser figures. They used certain distinctive features in a desire to heighten tension towards the end, including the use of short imitative phrases broken up by rests (Tallis, Parsons, Strogers), scale passages in quavers (Ferrabosco) and change of time from duple to triple (Tye, Strogers). Against this background may be seen Byrd’s In Nomines which stand out not only for their technical mastery, but also for their well-handled structure, their expressiveness and their rhythmic vitality.

3. The 17th-century consort In Nomine.

Composition of In Nomines seems to have fallen off in the later part of the 16th century, though some composers such as Bull left examples which must be early works, perhaps exercises in composition. However, the upsurge of interest in consort playing at the turn of the century sparked off a vast new range of instrumental music. In Nomines featured alongside fantasias and shared their style with its intricate rhythmic patterns and proliferation of small note values. Among the best are the five-part settings by Orlando Gibbons. A further search for originality is reflected in the In Nomine Fantasia of Alfonso Ferrabosco (ii), in which each part in turn has a variation on the plainchant. Tomkins’s two In Nomines are unique in employing only three parts. John Milton is rumoured to have outdone all predecessors by composing an In Nomine in 40 parts, but if it was ever written it is not now extant. Some years later William Lawes and John Browne gave a new aspect to the cantus firmus by transposing it from minor to major. Browne's composition is also notable for the instructions it contains about speeds, ‘come of’ (fast) and ‘drag’ (slow). Another In Nomine by William Lawes in six parts allows the plainchant to wander between the two treble and two bass viols. The last of the In Nomines, by Purcell, are among the greatest in their austerity and dignity. Particularly telling is Purcell’s exploitation of seven viols together using a formula of repeated minims (ex.5) that goes back to Parsons and beyond, thus emphasizing the continuity of a 150-year tradition.

2. The Hofkapelle; secular music to 1750.

4. In Nomines for keyboard and other media.

MeyerMS

E.H. Meyer: ‘The “In Nomine” and the Birth of Polyphonic Instrumental Style in England’, ML, xvii (1936), 25–36

R. Donington and T. Dart: ‘The Origin of the In Nomine’,ML, xxx (1949), 101–6

G. Reese: ‘The Origins of the English “In Nomine”’, JAMS, ii (1949), 7–22

D. Stevens: The Mulliner Book: a Commentary (London, 1952)

E.E. Lowinsky: ‘English Organ Music of the Renaissance, II’, MQ, xxxix ( 1953), 528–53

J. Jacquot: ‘Sur quelques formes de la musique de clavier élisabéthaine’, La musique instrumentale de la Renaissance: Paris 1954, 241–58

J. Noble: ‘Le répertoire instrumental anglais (1550–1585)’, ibid., 91–114

D. Stevens: ‘Les sources de l' “in nomine”’, ibid., 85–90; Eng. trans in MMR, lxxxiv (1954), 199–205

J. Ward: ‘Les sources de la musique pour le clavier en Angleterre’, ibid., 225–36

R.W. Weidner: ‘New Insights on the Early In Nomine’, RBM, xv (1961), 29–46

J. Caldwell: ‘Keyboard Plainsong Settings in England, 1500–1660’, MD, xix (1965), 129–53

W. Edwards: The Sources of Elizabethan Consort Music (diss., U. of Cambridge, 1974)

P. Doe: ‘The Emergence of the In Nomine: some Notes and Queries on the Work of Tudor Church Musicians’, Modern Musical Scholarship: Oxford 1977, 79–92

C.D.S. Field: ‘Consort Music, I: Up to 1660’, Music in Britain: the Seventeenth Century, ed. I. Spink (Oxford, 1992), esp. 219-22; see also 448n.

Innsbruck.

City in Austria, capital of the Tyrol province. The reigning princes at first resided in their ancestral castle, Schloss Tirol (now Castel Tirolo, Italy); Meran (now Merano) was the first capital of the province, which was allied to Austria from 1363. Duke Friedrich transferred his residence to Innsbruck, which had become a township in 1239, and from 1420 built a palace, the Neuer Hof, to which Emperor Maximilian added a splendid oriel, the Goldenes Dachl. Between 1766 and 1770 a new palace was built, which has survived. On the extinction of the Tyrolean royal house (1665) the province passed to the Austrian emperor. In 1918 the Tyrol became a federal state of Austria.

1. Church music.

3. Secular music from 1750.

WALTER SENN/HARALD GOERTZ

1. Church music.

The main church, St Jakob (a cathedral since 1964), is first mentioned in 1180. The Gothic building erected subsequently was demolished in 1717 and replaced by a Baroque church, consecrated in 1724. Church music in the Middle Ages was the responsibility of a Kantorei consisting of teachers and pupils at the church school (the parish school, later the Lateinschule). In addition to music the boys were instructed in Latin and other subjects. The earliest record of a schoolmaster dates from 1204, and an organ is known to have been in use by the 14th century. The Lateinschule master conducted the music in church and taught the boys singing. The Kantor gave general instruction in music and also ‘in figurativis’ (polyphony), and rehearsed the music for services.

The Gymnasium founded by the Jesuits in 1562 offered a considerably higher level of education, and replaced the Lateinschule, which continued to be used as a hostel for choirboys and as a music school. Under the last Lateinschule master Georg Angermann (1594–1634) the Kantorei became a parish choir, the pupils giving way to officially appointed singers and instrumentalists. His successors called themselves choirmasters, and later ‘Chorregenten’, and were also prebendaries. Originally the choir sang in the presbytery, in front of the high altar, and the main organ stood in the nave near the chancel; from 1645 the choir and organ were both in a gallery on the west wall. After the rebuilding of St Jakob an organ was built (1724–6) by Kaspar Humpel, who lived for a time in Wilten (now a suburb of the city); it was altered in the 19th century and was transferred to the church at Hötting in 1932. The original organ case was used for a new organ, built by Rieger of Jägerndorf.

Emperor Joseph II's ecclesiastical reforms (1765–90) included the dismissal of members of the choir, who were replaced by amateurs, adversely affecting the standard of church music. After the mid-19th century the choir improved once more, reaching a peak under the directors Lambert Streiter (1903–24) and Karl Koch (1924–71, also a prominent composer). In the 1990s the choir was still the most important church choir in the city.

The court's services were held in St Jakob until the building of the Hofkirche (1555–63), the earliest example of Renaissance church architecture in the north Tyrol, which contains the cenotaph of the Emperor Maximilian I. The original organ was built by Jörg Ebert of Ravensburg (1555–61), enlarged in the 17th and 18th centuries and restored from 1972 to 1976. The Hofkirche also served as a church for the Franciscan monastery from 1564. Built onto it is the Silberne Kapelle, where Archduke Ferdinand II of the Tyrol is buried; it has a positive organ in a case dated 1614 with eight stops and mostly wooden pipes, possibly of Italian origin (fig.1). Other churches that have cultivated choral music at some time are the collegiate church at Wilten, the Servite church, and the parish churches of Wilten and Pradl (another suburb of the city).

2. The Hofkapelle; secular music to 1750.

The Tyrolean sovereigns already had trumpeters and pipers in their service when they resided at Schloss Tirol. In Innsbruck these instrumentalists were augmented by trombonists, timpanists, harpists and lutenists. There is evidence that after 1463 there was a Kantorei under the direction of Niklas Krombsdorfer; Hofhaimer was appointed organist in 1478. Although it appears that under the Emperor Maximilian I there was only a small resident Kantorei in Innsbruck, he visited the city with the Reichskapelle, under the direction of Georg Slatkonia. At that time the parish church was also the court church, and the emperor had organs installed there; the most important was built by Jhan Behaim from Dubrau (1512–15).

Under Maximilian's successor, Archduke Ferdinand, there was no Hofkapelle, and the organists at St Jakob also worked at the court as music teachers; however, the reign of Archduke Ferdinand II (1567–95) was a period of musical splendour. The musicians were divided into two groups of between 33 and 47 members: the Vokalkapelle, with singers, organists and lutenists; and the Hofmusik, to which the instrumentalists belonged. The singers were mainly from the Netherlands, whereas most of the instrumentalists were from Italy. Wilhelm Bruneau was Kapellmeister until 1584, and was succeeded by Regnart. The many members of the Kapelle who, like Regnart, were known as composers included Alexander Utendal, Christian Hollander, Giovanni, Giorgio and Jacobus Flori, Franz Sales and Tiburtio Massaino. The monarch collected valuable musical instruments for his gallery at Schloss Ambras: these included a cittern by Girolamo de Virchis (Brescia, 1574), an ivory lute by Georg Gerle of Innsbruck, violins by Gasparo da Salò and Dorigo Spilmann and chamber organs with intarsia embellishments. The Kapelle was dispersed in 1595.

The next ruler, Archduke Maximilian of Austria (1602–18), had had a Kapelle in Bad Mergentheim since 1586, from which 16 performers accompanied him to Innsbruck. From 1607 to 1648 Johann Stadlmayr was his Kapellmeister. The next ruling prince, Archduke Leopold V (d 1632), also arrived in Innsbruck with his own Kapelle, and his predecessor's musicians, with the exception of Stadlmayr, were dismissed. In 1632 the Kapelle had 45 singers, including four castratos, and instrumentalists. Between 1629 and 1631 the archduke had the Ballspielhaus to the north of the castle converted into a theatre.

Both music and the theatre flourished under Archduke Ferdinand Karl (1646–62). The Hofkapelle consisted of three groups: that for church music, under the direction of Ambrosius Reiner (1648–72); the court trumpeters, mainly for open-air music; and the chamber musicians (virtuoso singers and instrumentalists), who were directed by Antonio Cesti (1652–8, 1661–5). Cesti also composed several operas for the prince, including L'Argia, which was performed in 1655 for the official conversion to Catholicism of Queen Christina of Sweden. The Kapelle's celebrated members included the bass viol player William Young (before 1652 until 1662). The prince had a Komödienhaus built in the Venetian style (1652–4); it was the first self-contained opera house in a German-speaking country and was the first German stage to have a permanent company for opera, drama and Singspiel (fig.2).

With the death of Archduke Siegmund Franz (1665) the Tyrolean line of the House of Habsburg came to an end. The province fell under Emperor Leopold I, who disbanded the court at Innsbruck, and with it the Hofkapelle, although in 1666 some of the musicians were reinstated to form the Kaiserliche Hofmusik, serving any royalty temporarily residing at Innsbruck. In addition, the governor Duke Karl Philipp of the Palatinate (1707–17) maintained a private orchestra under the Kapellmeister Jakob Greber; its Konzertmeister was Gottfried Finger, who, like Greber, had returned from London. When Karl Philipp left Innsbruck his musicians followed him to Neuburg, Heidelberg and Mannheim, where they formed the nucleus of the orchestra that was to achieve international fame under Stamitz and his successors. The Kaiserliche Hofmusik declined and was dissolved in 1748.

3. Secular music from 1750.

The last of the court opera performances was the first performance of Hasse's Romulo ed Ersilia, on the occasion of the wedding of Archduke Leopold and the Infanta Maria Ludovica (1765). In subsequent years the theatre was leased to outside contractors, the first of which was known as the Kaiserliches und Königliches Hoftheater, and, after 1785, the Nationalhoftheater and Nationaltheater; its repertory consisted mainly of plays, but operas and Singspiele were also performed. From 1852 to 1918 the theatre's leaseholders were not obliged to perform operas; these became the domain of Italian and, after 1866, German companies. The old theatre was used until 1844, and a new classical-style building was opened in 1846 on the same site. In 1886 the theatre came under the control of the town, becoming the Stadttheater and in 1939 the Tiroler Landestheater. It had a permanent opera company from 1918. The rebuilt theatre (1961–7) seats 801, with 250 seats in the Kammerspiele, and its season runs from September to the beginning of July.

The first public concerts took place in the Redoutengebäude, built in 1772–3 at the request of the Empress Maria Theresa. The municipal halls were erected on the same site (1888–90); these were destroyed in 1944, but in 1955 they were restored on the original plan. Only the larger of the two halls (cap. 919) is used for concerts. A further concert hall (cap. 259) is in the Musikverein (now the conservatory), built in 1912. The castle theatre was also destroyed in 1944, but was restored as a congress building, completed in 1973; it has two halls (cap. 1479 and 223) which are also used for concerts.

In the theatre (from the 18th century) and at public concerts (19th century) an orchestra played, which included professional or amateur musicians according to circumstances. A permanent ensemble, the Städtische Musikkapelle, was founded in 1893; after 1900 it was known as the Städtisches Orchester and, later, the Innsbruck SO.

Innsbruck's choirs have included the male-voice Innsbrucker Liedertafel (1855), Deutscher Männergesangverein (1901) and Wolkensteiner (1911), and the internationally renowned mixed choirs ‘Walther von der Vogelweide’ and ‘Mentlberg’ (both 1947).

The first public concerts were organized by the Kasinoverein (1787–c1840). From the early 19th century music was cultivated more thoroughly by the Musikverein, whose orchestral, choral and solo concerts continued to 1939 and under the title Konzerte der Stadt Innsbruck from 1947. Since 1979 they have been held in the Kongresshaus (containing three halls, the Dogana, cap. 1200; the Saal Tirol, cap. 1500; and the Saal Innsbruck, cap. 256). The Ambraser Schlosskonzerte, founded in 1963 to mark the 600th anniversary of the unification of the Tyrol and Austria, are held in July and August in the Renaissance Schloss Ambras near Innsbruck, with music of the 13th to the 18th centuries played on period instruments. As an educational pendant to these concerts, the Internationale Sommerakademie für Alte Musik was founded in 1972; from 1977 a concert series, the Festwochen der Alten Musik, complemented the lectures. Productions of Baroque oratorio and opera began at the same time, notable for the revival of the operas of Cesti. Since 1958 the Innsbrucker Orgelwochen have taken place at Whitsun (annually since 1965). The triennial Paul Hofhaimer organ competition (from 1972) uses historic organs. A triennial Radiopreis für Alte Musik was established in 1996 by the Tyrolean studio of Österreichischer Rundfunk (ÖRF) and the city of Innsbruck.

The Musikverein also founded a music school, whose directors were conductors. After the dissolution of the society in 1939 the school continued as the Städtische Musikschule, becoming the conservatory in 1957 and the Tiroler Landeskonservatorium in 1990. At the university (established 1669) a musicological institute was opened in 1920 whose foundation may be attributed to Rudolf von Ficker; from 1994 it was directed by Tilman Seebass. The library of the Tiroler Landesmuseum Ferdinandeum contains historic manuscripts and printed works as well as many sound recordings. There are valuable musical instruments of the 16th to 18th centuries in the collection of the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Schloss Ambras. The Tyrolean studio of ÖRF, which devotes many concerts and talks to contemporary music, played a leading part from 1950 in the Österreichische Jugendkulturwochen, which in 1969 became the Musikprotokoll of the Steierische Herbstfestival.

Music printers were active in Innsbruck from the mid-16th century, when hymnals were printed, including the Innsbrucker Gesangbuch (1586), printed by the court printer Johann Baur. In the 19th century the firm of Johann Gross printed the first editions of several of Bruckner's choral works. The Edition Helbling firm publishes early music and facsimilies as well as works on musicology and music teaching. A Tyrolean cultural journal, Das Fenster, is published several times a year in Innsbruck, and also covers subjects from the South Tyrol. Builders of organs and makers of violins and wind instruments have been active in the city since the 16th, 17th and 19th centuries respectively.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

GroveO (H. Goertz, W. Senn)

MGG2 (M. Fink, W. Senn)

F. Waldner: ‘Nachrichten über die Musikpflege am Hofe zu Innsbruck’, MMg, xxix–xxx (1897–8), 1–64; xxxvi (1904), suppl., 143

H. Hammer: ‘Literarische Beziehungen und musikalisches Leben des Hofes Herzog Siegmunds von Tirol’, Zeitschrift des Ferdinandeums für Tirol und Vorarlberg, xliii (1899), 69–124

L. Schönach: ‘Die fahrenden Sänger und Spielleute Tirols, 1250–1360’, Forschungen und Mitteilungen zur Geschichte Tirols und Vorarlbergs, viii (1911), 1–8, 119–26

F. Waldner: ‘Verzeichnis der Musikinstrumente in der Sammlung des Museum Ferdinandeum’, Zeitschrift des Ferdinandeums für Tirol und Vorarlberg, lix (1915), appx, 1

K. Senn: Der Innsbrucker Musikverein (Innsbruck, 1918)

J. von Schlosser: Die Sammlung alter Musikinstrumente (Vienna, 1920/R)

J. Weingartner: Die Pfarrei und Pfarrkirche von St. Jakob (Innsbruck, 1924)

A. Sandberger: ‘Beziehungen der Königin Christine von Schweden zur italienischen Oper und Musik … mit einem Anhang über Cestis Innsbrucker Aufenthalt’, Bulletin de la Societé ‘Union musicologique’, v (1925), 121–73

P.Ä. Födinger: ‘Verschollene Komponisten unserer Provinz’, Spiritus et Vita fratrum minorum, vii (1927), 62–72

R. von Ficker: ‘Das Musikleben in Innsbruck’, Die tirolische Landeshauptstadt Innsbruck (Innsbruck, 1929), 120–32

H. Osthoff: ‘Eine unbekannte Schauspielmusik Jacob Regnarts’, Musikwissenschaftliche Beiträge: Festschrift für Johannes Wolf, ed. W. Lott, H. Osthoff and W. Wolffheim (Berlin, 1929/R), 153–61

A. Einstein: ‘Italienische Musik und italienische Musiker am Kaiserhof und an den erzherzoglichen Höfen in Innsbruck und Graz’, SMw, xxi (1934), 3–52

A. Dörrer: ‘Hundert Innsbrucker Notendrucke aus dem Barock’, Gutenberg-Jb 1939, 243–68

W. Senn: Preface to Tiroler Instrumentalmusik im 18. Jahrhundert, DTÖ, lxxxvi (1949)

W. Senn: ‘Beiträge zum deutschen Kirchenlied Tirols im 16. Jahrhundert’, Innsbrucker Beiträge zur Kulturwissenschaft, ii (1954), 146–55

W. Senn: Musik und Theater am Hof zu Innsbruck (Innsbruck, 1954)

K.M. Klier: ‘Innsbrucker Lied-Flugblätter des 17. Jahrhunderts’, Jb des österreichischen Volksliedwerkes, iv (1955), 56–76

E. Berlanda: Die Opernpflege im Innsbrucker Theater (Innsbruck, 1956)

E. Berlanda: ‘Karwochenoratorien in Tirol’, Ostern in Tirol, ed. N. Grass (Innsbruck, 1957), 329–50

W. Senn: ‘Innsbrucker Hofmusik’, ÖMz, xxv (1970), 659–70

E. Krauss: Die Ebert-Orgel in der Hofkirche zu Innsbruck (1558): ihre Geschichte und Wiederherstellung (Innsbruck, 1976)

Orgel und Orgelspiel im 16. Jahrhundert: Innsbruck 1977

E. Krauss: Die Orgeln Innsbrucks (Innsbruck, 1977)

J. Höpfel: Innsbruck: Residenz der Alten Musik (Innsbruck, 1990)

J. Höpfel: ‘Musik nach 1945 in Österreichs Bundesländern: Tirol’, ÖMz, xlvi (1991), 138–44

U. Simek: Das Berufstheater in Innsbruck im 18. Jahrhundert (Vienna, 1992)

O. Costa: ‘Musik in Tirol 1918–1993’, Handbuch zur neueren Geschichte Tirols, ii (Innsbruck, 1993), 271–305

W. Steiner, ed.: 175 Jahre Musikverein, Musikschule, Konservatorium in Innsbruck (Innsbruck, 1993)

Inoue, Michiyoshi

(b Tokyo, 23 Dec 1946). Japanese conductor. After studying with Hideo Saito at the Tōhō Gakuen College of Music he became an associate conductor of the Tokyo Metropolitan SO in 1970. The following year he won the first prize at the Guido Cantelli Competition in Milan and conducted at La Scala. Between 1977 and 1981 he was chief guest conductor of the New Zealand SO. Returning to Japan, he was music director of the New Japan PO from 1983 to 1988, and was appointed principal conductor of the Kyoto Municipal SO in 1990. He also serves as president of the Japan Shostakovich Society. Inoue’s conducting is notable for its rhythmic vitality and emotional intensity; he has a broad repertory, and has shown an impressive command of difficult contemporary scores.

MASAKATA KANAZAWA

Insanguine [Monopoli], Giacomo (Antonio Francesco Paolo Michele)

(b Monopoli, nr Bari, 22 March 1728; d Naples, 1 Feb 1795). Italian composer and teacher. He was admitted to the Poveri di Gesù conservatory, Naples, on 19 January 1743, studying there with Abos and Feo until November 1743, when the conservatory was closed and he went to the S Onofrio. He studied there with Abos and Durante, becoming a mastricello until Durante’s death in 1755. In 1756 he had his first opera, Lo funnaco revotato, performed at the Teatro dei Fiorentini; it is said to have been highly successful and was revived there in 1760. Insanguine’s production of operas thereafter was somewhat intermittent, but he was also involved in the patching up of operas by other composers. According to remarks supposed to have been made much later by Paisiello, ‘Monopoli was the maestro delle pezze, that is, [he wrote] those numbers that were added in revising other composers’ scores at the impresario’s expense, as a result of which he lost standing among professional musicians’. The full extent of his work of this sort is not known. Most of his own operas written before 1770 were comic ones performed at Neapolitan theatres, and of these only Lo funnaco revotato is known to be extant. L’osteria di Marechiaro (1768) was particularly successful. In 1770 he had a work performed at the S Carlo for the first time, a setting of La Didone abbandonata. According to Prota-Giurleo, this commission began as an assignment to revise and direct Galuppi’s setting, and only when Galuppi’s work proved impossible of adaptation to the needs of the S Carlo was Insanguine asked to set the text anew. Perhaps because of the success of this work he thereafter composed mostly opere serie, including four for the S Carlo (as well as his completion with Errichelli of Gian Francesco de Majo’s last opera, Eumene, which was performed there in 1771). His last two operas for the S Carlo, Medonte (1779) and Calipso (1782), were not successful. Something of his standing at this time may perhaps be seen in the fact that he was paid only 230 ducats for Calipso, while among the composers of the other three operas performed that season, the popular Cimarosa, making his S Carlo début, received 340, the young Francesco Bianchi 250 and only the little-known Curci less (the minimum fee of 200 ducats).

Insanguine was made a teacher at the S Onofrio conservatory on 23 August 1767. In 1774 he succeeded Dol as secondo maestro there and as organist of the second choir at the Cappella del Tesoro in S Gennaro. In 1776 he became organist of the first choir and in 1781 maestro di cappella. In 1785 he succeeded Cotumacci as primo maestro at the conservatory, a post he held until his death. In 1793 the students complained that his age made him incapable of carrying out his duties and Salvatore Rispoli was appointed special secondo maestro.

The scanty references to Insanguine in contemporary lexicons suggest that he was little known outside Naples except as the composer of a few popular arias. The disrespect for him in Naples reflected in Paisiello’s remark above (although Paisiello is known to have been particularly lacking in charity towards most of his fellow composers) perhaps also appears in Villarosa’s judgment, repeated by Florimo and later writers, that he had ‘a style lacking in inspiration [estro] and taste’. Insanguine was an expert craftsman and always up to date (an aria in the library of the Royal College of Music, London, sung by Aprile in an unidentified opera seria at Palermo in 1766, is in a modern style more common in the 1770s and has no trace of galant intricacies); however, his music usually has a slightly perfunctory quality, reflected in the excessively regular working out of his aria forms.

WORKS

operas

NC	Naples, Teatro S Carlo
NFI	Naples, Teatro dei Fiorentini
NN	Naples, Teatro Nuovo

Lo funnaco revotato (oc, B. Saddumene or P. Mililotti, after F. Olivia), NFI, wint. 1756, GB-Cfm, US-Wcm

La Matilde generosa (oc), NFI, aut. 1757

Demetrio (os, P. Metastasio), Rome, Argentina, carn. 1759, P-La

Le sorelle tradite (oc), NN, sum. 1759

Il nuovo Belisario (oc), NFI, carn. 1765

La vedova capricciosa (oc, G. Palomba), NN, carn. 1765 [2 arias by C. de Franchi]

Le quattro malmaritate (oc, G. Palomba), NN, carn. 1766

L’osteria di Marechiaro (oc, F. Cerlone), NFI, wint. 1768

La finta semplice, ossia Il tutore burlato (oc, Mililotti), NN, spr. 1769

Pulcinella vendicato del ritorno di Marechiaro (farsetta), NFI, wint. 1769 [perf. with L’osteria di Marechiaro]

Il natal di Telefo (prol, S. Mattei), NC, 12 Jan 1770, I-Nc

La Didone abbandonata (os, Metastasio), NC, 20 Jan 1770, Nc, P-La

La dama bizzarra (oc, G. Ciliberti), NFI, wint. 1770

Eumene [Act 2] (os, A. Zeno), NC, 20 Jan 1771, I-Nc [Act 1 by G.F. de Majo, Act 3 by P. Errichelli]

Merope (os, Zeno), Venice, S Benedetto, 26 Dec 1772, P-La

Arianna e Teseo (os, P. Pariati), NC, 20 Jan 1773, I-Nc, P-La

Adriano in Siria (os, Metastasio), NC, 4 Nov 1773, I-Nc, P-La

Le astuzie per amore (ob, Mililotti), NFI, carn. 1777, I-Nc

Eumene (os, Zeno), Turin, Regio, carn. 1778, Tf, P-La [apparently a new, complete setting]

Medonte (os, G. de Gamerra), NC, 30 May 1779, I-Nc, P-La

Motezuma (os, V.A. Cigna-Santi), Turin, Regio, carn. 1780, I-Tf, P-La

Calipso (os), NC, 30 May 1782, I-Nc, P-La

Music in: Monte Testaccio, 1760; L’astuto balordo, 1761; La furba burlata, 1762; L’innamorato balordo, 1763; Le viaggiatrici di bell’umore, 1763; Monsieur Petitone, 1763; La giocatrice bizarra, 1764

sacred

I voti di David per Salomone (cant. on Ps lxxi, S. Mattei), 3vv, orch, Naples, 30 March 1775, I-Nc, ?Mc; Cantata per la traslazione del sangue di S Gennaro; La via della croce, 2vv, vn, b, Mc, Nc; Passio del venerdì santo, ?4vv, db, org, Nc

6 masses, Nc: E, 4 solo vv, 4vv, orch; SSB, bc; F, D, D, SATB, orch; A, 4vv, orch; 3 masses, Mc; Kyrie, SSB, bc, Nc; Christus et Miserere, Mc; 3 Miserere, Mc; Benedictus, 2vv, bc, ?Nc; 3 Dixit, Nc: B, SATB, orch, 1774; C, STB, orch; G, SATB, orch; 2 Te Deum: 1, Nc; 4vv, org, 1784, PAc; Exultando jam venite, motet, 4vv, orch, Nc; Et in saecula saeculorum, double chorus, bc, GB-Lbl; In tam fera et rea procella, S, orch, Lbl; Quoniam, S, ob, tpt, bn, I-Nc

other works

La speranza, cant., I-Mr

Pulcinelle finto maestro di musica (farsetta, 1, A. Casaccia), Mc

?Hpd sonata, Nc

Didactic: Regole con moti di basso, partimenti e fughe, Mc; Solfeggi, D-Bsb; Solfeggi, S, b, I-Mc; Scale, salti e solfeggi, B, b, Mc

BIBLIOGRAPHY

ES (U. Prota-Giurleo)

FlorimoN

GiacomoC

RosaM

S. di Giacomo: ‘Paisiello e i suoi contemporanei’, Musica e musicisti, lx (1905), 762–8; repr. in Napoli: figure e paesi (Naples, 1909) and Opere, ii (Milan, 1946)

E. Dent: ‘Ensembles and Finales in 18th-century Italian Opera’, SIMG, xi (1909–10), 534–69; xii (1910–11), 112–38

A. Mondolfi: ‘Destino e stile di Giacomo Insanguine detto Monopoli’, Gazzetta musicale di Napoli, iv (1958), 4–7

A. Giovane and U. Prota-Giurleo: Giacomo Insanguine detto Monopoli: musicista monopolitano (Bari, 1969)

DENNIS LIBBY (text), JAMES L. JACKMAN/MARITA P. McCLYMONDS (work-list)

In seculum.

The most-used tenor melisma (cantus firmus) of the late 12th century and the 13th. It is drawn from the verse of the Easter Gradual Haec dies (LU, 778; ex.1). It first appeared as an integral part of two early organa, and there are 15 clausulas on this segment, three of which serve as motet sources. 46 separate motet complexes using this tenor survive from the latter part of the period. Particularly interesting are an early Spanish hocket (later made into a motet) and five other instrumental settings, two based on the hocket and one marked ‘In seculum viellatoris’, presumably because it was written by or for a vielle player. Use of the In seculum tenor appears to have been confined mostly to France, and only one of the works based upon it (a motet) is known to be English.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

MGG1 (L.A. Dittmer)

F. Ludwig: Repertorium organorum recentioris et motetorum vetustissimi stili, i/1 (Halle, 1910/R, rev. 2/1964 by L.A. Dittmer); ii, ed. L.A. Dittmer (Hildesheim and New York, 1972)

F. Gennrich: Bibliographie der ältesten französischen und lateinischen Motetten, SMM, ii (1957)

R. Flotzinger: Der Discantussatz in Magnus liber und seiner Nachfolge (Vienna, 1969)

D. Harbinson: ‘The Hocket Motets in the Old Corpus of the Montpellier Motet Manuscript’, MD, xxv (1971), 99–112

K. Hofmann: Untersuchungen zur Kompositionstechnik der Motette in 13. Jahrhundert durchgeführt an den Motetten mit dem Tenor ‘In Seculum’ (Neuhausen-Stuttgart, 1972)

GORDON A. ANDERSON

Institut de Recherche et Coordination Acoustique/Musique [IRCAM].

Music research institute in Paris. In 1970 President Georges Pompidou of France invited the composer and conductor Pierre Boulez to establish a centre for research into new music and associated technologies, to be situated in Paris adjacent to the Centre Pompidou. Seven years later IRCAM became fully operational with Boulez as director, a post he held until 1992 when it passed to Laurent Bayle. Boulez conceived IRCAM as a multi-disciplinary centre, and it was initially organized into five distinct areas – electro-acoustics, computer, pedagogy, instruments and voice – each headed by a specialist. This devolved arrangement proved problematic; a reorganization in 1980 and another in 1984 resulted in a more streamlined structure which, while preserving most of the original objectives, has focussed primarily on two areas, computer music production and computer music research.

Because its management has been able to make policies with few external constraints, IRCAM has fostered a strikingly broad range of musical activities. Artistic aims and objectives have predominated in determining the course of technical research. This climate has brought significant dividends in the form of new tools for computer music composition and new works for the genre. Over the years the development of technical resources has progressed from highly specialized hardware tools such as the 4X digital audio processor, built in the first instance to meet the musical requirements of Boulez for his major work Répons (1984), to more generic systems such as the IRCAM Musical Workstation or, more recently, a range of software tools designed for the modern generation of general-purpose personal computers.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

La musique en projet (Paris, 1975) [pubn of IRCAM]

Contemporary Music Review, i/1 (1984) [IRCAM issue]

L. Bayle, P. Boulez and others: Recherche et création: vers de nouveaux territoires (Paris, 1992)

G. Born: Rationalizing Culture: IRCAM, Boulez and the Institutionalization of the Musical Avant-Garde (Berkeley, 1995)

PETER MANNING

Institute for Studies in American Music [ISAM].

Research and information centre at Brooklyn College, City University of New York, founded in 1971 with H. Wiley Hitchcock as director. Its basic function is ‘to provide a suitable academic framework in which to encourage, support, propagate and evaluate research in music’ of the USA, and to this end it publishes monographs, bibliographies, discographies and the lectures of scholars in American music to whom it has granted fellowships. It also presents concerts and colloquia; in 1974, with the Yale School of Music, it held the first international conference on an American composer, the Charles Ives Centennial Festival-Conference. The institute is a principal repository of scores and tapes of music by Cowell. It publishes the biannual I.S.A.M. Newsletter (1971–).

Institute of Jazz Studies.

An archival collection and research centre at Rutgers, the State University of New Jersey, Newark. It was founded in 1952 by the jazz historian Marshall Stearns, and was transferred to the Newark campus in 1967. The collection has greatly expanded through donations and acquisitions and now constitutes the foremost archive of jazz and jazz-related materials under university auspices, with more than 100,000 phonograph records and 3000 books, and extensive holdings of periodicals, record catalogues, research files, photographs, films and jazz memorabilia. The institute also conducts a major programme in jazz oral history. From 1973 to 1980 it published the biannual Journal of Jazz Studies, which was superseded in 1982 by the Annual Review of Jazz Studies.

EDWARD BERGER/R

Institute of Musical Art.

New York conservatory founded in 1905 and renamed Juilliard School of Music in 1924. See New York, §12.

Institute of Renaissance and Baroque Music.

American organization founded in 1944 and in 1946 renamed American Institute of Musicology.

Institut für Neue Musik und Musikerziehung.

German organization founded in 1948. See under Darmstadt.

Instituto Español de Musicología.

See Departamento de Musicología.

Instrument

(Ger.).

Although it now has only the general meaning of ‘musical instrument’, the word ‘Instrument’ in German used to have the more specific meaning of ‘keyboard instrument’. To judge from the title-pages of late 16th-century German keyboard anthologies by Elias Nikolaus Ammerbach (1571, 1575 and 1583), Bernhard Schmid (1577) and others, ‘Instrument’ then meant ‘string keyboard instrument’ in opposition to organ; the volumes are said to be written in a tablature for ‘Orgel und Instrument’. This interpretation was confirmed by Praetorius, who wrote in Syntagma musicum, ii (2/1619), chap.37, that the Symphony – his collective name for harpsichord or clavicymbalum, virginal, spinet and the like – was generally called ‘Instrument’, a usage he criticized for its ambiguity. Like many other musical terms, however, the word meant various things at various times, and it was not always used consistently. In the 17th and 18th centuries, for example, ‘Instrument’ sometimes referred specifically to the clavichord. At least that conclusion seems warranted from the reference to ‘Instrument, Spinet oder Clavicymbel’ on the title-page of Benedict Schultheiss’s Clavier-Lust (Nuremberg, 1679) and other similar examples. Jakob Adlung, in Anleitung zu der musikalischen Gelahrtheit (Erfurt, 1758), p.558, wrote that a large spinet was called ‘Instrument im engern Verstande’, or even ‘Virginal’. And in the early 19th century the word ‘Instrument’ was occasionally used to refer to the piano.

HOWARD MAYER BROWN

Instrumental modifications and extended performance techniques.

The instrumentarium of Western music throughout its history has been in a state of continuous change, and every type and period of music has given rise to its own modifications of existing instruments and playing techniques. The desire for instruments capable of greater range, volume and dynamic control has led not only to the use of new materials and improvements in design but also to the invention of new instruments, many of which have achieved small success and are now regarded as little more than curiosities. These developments, naturally, form the matter of other articles in this dictionary, in which the evolution of individual instruments to their present state is fully described. The 20th century saw an unprecedented expansion in the instrumentarium and a host of new approaches by composers and performers to the use of existing instruments; because these experiments often took place outside the mainstream of musical life it seems appropriate to discuss them as a group.

Instrument modifications & extended performing techniques

2. Keyboard instruments.

HUGH DAVIES

1. Introduction.

In the second half of the 20th century the problem of creating a repertory for a new or modified instrument became less significant than in the past, when even instruments for which major composers wrote important works (such as Schubert's Sonata for arpeggione and piano, d821) were not thereby guaranteed survival; indeterminate and graphic scores and compositions with unspecified instrumentation, together with various areas of free improvisation, have supplemented the compositions of those who often combine the three distinct functions of instrument inventor and/or builder, performer and composer in a single person. Some of these have come from different artistic disciplines, although often with a musical grounding, finding their way into the new field of invented instruments for a variety of creative reasons.

Since 1950 only a small proportion of Western music for ensembles in any style or area, including symphony orchestra, jazz and dance band, rock and folk group, has been played entirely on instruments that existed in, for example, 1900. At least half of the total output of three of the leading avant-garde composers who first came to prominence in the 1950s, John Cage, Mauricio Kagel and Karlheinz Stockhausen, includes new resources; they include unusual percussion, Renaissance, folk and non-Western instruments to newly invented acoustic, electro-acoustic and electronic instruments, as well as Toy instruments, musical costumes, Sound effects, environmental sounds, live electronics and electronic music on tape. Contemporary rock music relies heavily on instruments that were unknown before the 1930s, such as the electric guitar, electronic organ, electric piano and synthesizer. This flood of new instruments has been supplemented by many modifications, both temporary and permanent, of standard instruments in ways that go far beyond the intentions of the manufacturer or original designer; a number of composers have also called for extended performance techniques on traditional instruments.

Instrument modifications & extended performing techniques

2. Keyboard instruments.

(i) The piano.

The instrument that has been modified in the greatest variety of ways is the piano. A comparative newcomer, it was still in the early stages of its evolution in the 19th century, and many versions of both upright and grand forms were constructed. An early modification, which survives today in pianos manufactured by Steinway and many American companies, is the third or ‘sostenuto’ pedal, first introduced in 1844 by Boisselot in Marseilles, but not established until the American branch of Steinway adopted it in 1874. Some Bösendorfer grand pianos have an extension of a minor 6th to the normal range in the bass for reinforcing the left hand with octaves; a hinged flap covers these keys when they are not required, to prevent confusion in the player's visual orientation. Since the 1840s several modifications to the shape and lay-out of the keyboard, intended to simplify fingering, have been tried out (for example, the two manuals of the Emanuel Moór pianoforte, c1920, are tuned one octave apart – with provision for coupling them together – to simplify the execution of octaves and other large intervals; see also Janko, Paul von; Keyboard, §3), and many inventors have built microtonal pianos (see Microtonal instruments, §2). Even mirror-image left-handed pianos have been constructed; in 1876 Mangeot in Paris built several grands and uprights that combined a left-handed and a right-handed keyboard (as proposed by the pianist Józef Wieniawski), and a reversed copy of a Graf piano from 1826 was built for the left-handed pianist Christopher Seed by Poletti & Tuinman in the Netherlands in 1998. The largest piano ever built is probably the vertically strung Klavins piano in Bonn, in which the keyboard is some 4 metres above floor level on a special balcony for the performer.

In the 20th century many temporary modifications were made to the piano and new playing techniques applied to it. Isolated effects were required by Schoenberg in Drei Klavierstücke op.11 (1909), in which certain keys are silently depressed to raise the dampers and allow the strings to vibrate sympathetically, and Charles Ives, who in the ‘Hawthorne’ movement (1911) of his Concord Sonata called for the use of a piece of wood 14¾'''' (37·47 cm) long for the playing of diatonic clusters, while an 88-note ‘plank’ plays repeated clusters in the section ‘Fabrika’ of Aleksey Semyonovich Zhivotov and Mikhail Yudin's oratorio Lenin (c1930), and an ‘octave bar’ for clusters (eight white and six black keys) is specified in Lou Harrison's Piano Concerto with Selected Orchestra (1985). String glissandos, played by the fingers, are specified in Rued Langgaard's Sfaerernes Musik (1916–18).

The first composer systematically to explore unusual piano sounds and techniques was Henry Cowell. His innovations included the playing of chromatic and diatonic clusters (in Adventures in Harmony, 1913, and The Tides of Manaunaun, ?1917) and glissandos across several strings or along single strings, executed with the fingers while the dampers are raised (The Banshee, 1925), plucking the strings (Aeolian Harp, c1923, and Piece for piano with strings, 1924), damping the strings with the fingers and small mutes, and playing them with hammers and plectra, to create what he termed the ‘percussion piano’ (The Leprechaun, 1928–9) and stopping the strings to alter the pitch or produce harmonics (Sinister Resonance, 1930). Sheets of paper are threaded between the strings in Satie's Le piège de Méduse (1913) and an upright piano modified in the same way is proposed as an alternative to Georges Cloetens's Luthéal specified by Ravel in his Tzigane (1924) and L'enfant et les sortilèges (1920–25), which adds two treble and two bass stops to a normal grand piano; these provide, separately and in combination, additional timbres resembling cimbalom, harpsichord and lute or harp, created by placing suspended metal bolts and additional felt dampers in contact with the strings. A similar system, in which thin brass tongues folded round strips of felt are placed between the hammers and the strings, was devised by Pleyel to make the sound of the piano resemble that of a harpsichord; it was used in Reynaldo Hahn's opera Mozart (1925) and by Gabriel Pierné in 1926. In the early 1930s in works for percussion ensemble William Russell specified simple preparations such as a cluster board, string glissandos, and strings plucked and struck by beaters.

Unusual effects can also be obtained by playing the keyboard. Gordon Monahan's Piano Mechanics (1981–6) is ‘a catalogue of actions and activities which approach the production of isolated acoustical resonances at the piano’, including hand-swept strings, rapidly repeated single notes and clusters, trills and tremolos, partial damping with pedal and hand on strings; as with the repetitive ‘strumming’ technique adopted from the late 1960s by Charlemagne Palestine in performances of his own solo piano compositions, these techniques are intended to build up and vary substantial resonances and overtone structures in the instrument.

The best-known of all piano modifications is John Cage's Prepared piano, devised in 1940 (not, as generally stated, 1938), in which a variety of objects are inserted between the strings, changing both timbre and pitch, to create a one-man percussion ensemble; a range of different, more muted sounds is heard when the soft pedal is depressed (fig.1). The prepared piano was the culmination of Cage's explorations of some of Cowell's ideas – the muting of strings both manually (Imaginary Landscape no.1, 1939) and by sliding a metal cylinder along them (Second Construction, 1940), and sweeping them with a stick (First Construction (in Metal), 1939). Up to 1954 he wrote nearly 30, mostly solo works for the prepared piano, some of them for dance performances. Over 120 composers have composed at least one work featuring the prepared piano. Closely associated with Cage around 1940 was Lou Harrison, who devised the ‘tack piano’, in which thumb tacks or drawing pins are inserted into the hammers to create a metallic sound quality. This idea (known in German as the ‘Reissnagelklavier’ or the ‘Reisszweckenklavier’) was arrived at independently and applied mainly to upright pianos by other musicians, including the composers Henry Brant, Paul Dessau, Kagel, Wilhelm Killmayer and György Ránki, as well as the honky-tonk pianist Winifred Atwell, and was used for producing louder piano sounds in early film music recordings; old and out-of-tune pianos, which produce a similar effect, have been called for (usually in theatrical contexts in connection with 1920s jazz or other popular musics), notably by Alban Berg, Max Brand, Peter Maxwell Davies (several works), Karl Aage Rasmussen, Zygmunt Krauze and Irwin Bazelon. The ‘percussion piano’ of Cowell was further developed by Lucia Dlugoszewski as the ‘timbre piano’ (1951), in which the strings are bowed with small ‘bows’ to produce sustained sounds; a similar approach has been adopted in several compositions since 1972 by Curtis Curtis-Smith, while since 1977 Stephen Scott has created a series of works in which the strings of a single instrument are bowed by an ensemble of about ten players with various flexible and rigid ‘bows’, as well as solo pieces in which silently depressed keys raise the dampers from the electromagnetically excited strings. Annea Lockwood and Hans-Karsten Raecke have developed their own, somewhat different approaches to preparing pianos. The piano strings are plucked in Tan Dun's Concerto for Pizzicato Piano (1995) and, as the ‘Saitenklavier’, in Stockhausen's Klavierstück XVI (1999). The piano has been the subject of many modifications besides that of preparation, and considerable use has been made of different methods of playing the strings, frame and case, both with fingers and various implements, in works by Kagel, Cage, Orff, Lukas Foss, Ben Johnston and others. Pianos with the action removed so that they must be played like a cimbalom have been specified by Peter Maxwell Davies and Denis ApIvor, and the strings are struck with T-shaped ‘cluster-sticks’ in works by David Bedford and Davide Mosconi. Foss, Bedford, George Crumb, Xenakis and others have called for undamped piano strings which vibrate sympathetically when other instruments are played nearby.

The most radical of all the modifications applied to the piano – electrification – was introduced in the 1920s and 1930s. Instruments such as the Elektrochord and the Neo-Bechstein-Flügel were adapted versions of the normal piano, electrically amplified to give variations in timbre and volume and a far longer sustain time than normal because they had no soundboards. Since the 1930s the sound-generating systems of electric pianos increasingly used reeds, rods or electronic oscillators instead of strings, while at the same time the outward appearance of the instruments has come to bear less and less resemblance to the acoustic original. The Player piano has provided a further means of surpassing the capabilities of the standard piano, and many composers, including Stravinsky, Hindemith, Grainger, Casella, Malipiero, Milhaud, Antheil and Toch wrote works for it, culminating in the series of astonishing virtuoso compositions by Conlon Nancarrow, which far exceed in speed and rhythmic complexity anything that a human pianist could play. Interest in the player piano among composers increased substantially from the 1980s.

(ii) Others.

A limited amount of modification has been carried out on other keyboard instruments. Clusters and plucking or striking the strings of the harpsichord (already explored by Friedrich Wilhelm Rust in the late 18th century for lute-like sounds) have been incorporated into some new repertory for the instrument, in particular works written for Elisabeth Chojnacka. The harpsichord has also been amplified, as in the Thienhaus-Cembalo and the electric harpsichords manufactured by Baldwin. As with the piano, a large number of experimental microtonal reed organs and pipe organs were built, chiefly between the mid-19th century and the 1930s, though a few, notably the 31-note organ of Adriaan Fokker and several electronic instruments, were devised later. The pipe organ has been modified for works commissioned by the organists Karl-Erik Welin and Gerd Zacher, who had built to his own specifications an organ with a touch-sensitive Great manual. Glissandos and timbre changes, produced by altering the wind pressure, have been obtained by switching an organ off during a sustained sound, and Zsigmond Szathmáry has removed individual pipes for controlled reduction in wind pressure. An unusual bamboo pipe organ was built in the Philippines by Diego Cera around 1816–24. The electronic organ is not (with very rare exceptions) an electronically amplified pipe organ (see Electric organ), though a number of hybrid pipe and electronic instruments, which may be regarded as modified pipe organs, have been built.

Instrument modifications & extended performing techniques

3. Strings.

(i) The guitar.

After the piano the instrument that has probably undergone most modification is the guitar, especially in the form of its 20th-century offshoot, the Electric guitar. Other long-established commercially manufactured versions of the guitar include the dobro, or Resonator guitar, which has a metal disc mounted under the bridge to give increased volume, and the Hawaiian guitar, which evolved from the technique of laying a guitar across the lap and playing it with a slide. Since the 1960s, when the electric guitar first enjoyed great popularity, a number of new electro-acoustic and electronic variants have been devised. The Stick, developed by Emmett Chapman and marketed by Stick Enterprises in Los Angeles since 1973, consists of a long, wide, fretted neck with two sets of five strings; the left hand plays the treble ones (tuned in 4ths) and the right the bass ones (in 5ths), hammering them against the frets to set them vibrating. A guitar-like synthesizer controller, David Vorhaus’s Kaleidophon, which also frees the right hand from its normal function, is only one of a number of such instruments developed since the late 1970s. Two devices intended to sustain the notes of the acoustic guitar are the Gizmotron and the Bass Gizmotron, devised by the rock musicians Kevin Godley and Lol Creme and improved by John McConnell around 1971; they each consist of a set of small revolving wheels that activate the strings. The E-bow (‘energy bow’), which has a similar purpose, electromagnetically activates only one string at a time. A considerable range of electronic modification devices that process the signal produced by an electric guitar have been manufactured and have become part of the standard equipment used by pop and rock musicians.

Instrument inventors have made further and more unusual experiments with the guitar. Harry Partch refretted guitars in 1934 and 1945 to adapt them for the playing of music in his 43-note system, and many others have made similar adaptations to facilitate playing in various microtonal tunings. Hans Reichel has extended the frets on an acoustic guitar right up to the bridge, and has constructed a bodyless electric guitar which consists of two necks joined together at their lower ends to form a single straight length with pickups attached. Instruments based on the electric guitar have been made by Fred Frith, including an eight-string fretless version with a pickup at each end of the strings; Glenn Branca has done similar work. Strings about six metres long connect a string on each of two acoustic guitars to a low piano string for added resonance in Kagel's Tactil (1970).

Particularly in popular music, where the electric guitar has been most extensively adopted, new and often extravagant performing techniques have been evolved. Some country music performers on the electric Hawaiian guitar use models with four necks, one of which is prepared and reserved for sound effects such as train noises, much as guitarists in Hawaii previously specialized in producing animal and bird sounds. Jimi Hendrix's performances included passages in which he played the instrument with his teeth, without interrupting the flow of the music. Temporary adaptations of the guitar, similar to those found in the prepared piano, have been devised, notably the attachment to the strings of small ‘crocodile’ clips and the insertion between them of threads of cotton or thin lamellae, and the use of bows and electric motors with the guitar laid on its back; among the exponents of electric and acoustic guitars prepared in such ways are the composer and guitarist William Hellermann, and the improvisers Keith Rowe, David Toop, Frith, Peter Cusack, Gerry Fitzgerald, Mike Cooper, Eugene Chadbourne (who also plays a modified dobro), Henry Kaiser and Kevin Drumm. Other new playing techniques involve additional microphones, movable bridges and hand-held slides (including the country music ‘bottleneck’), scordatura of one or more strings, percussive playing on the body (as in flamenco), and acoustic feedback (pioneered by Hendrix and the improviser Derek Bailey in the late 1960s).

(ii) Others.

Bowed strings are probably the group of instruments to which modifications were applied earliest, but paradoxically they received less attention in the 20th century. Adaptations to the instruments themselves, such as scordatura tunings and the use of the mute, and non-standard performance techniques – for example, playing col legno, making percussive effects on the body and producing harmonics – have long since been accepted. Luigi Russolo's arco enarmonico was a new form of bow designed to eliminate the need for fingering. Electrical amplification of bowed strings was introduced and quite extensively explored in the 1920s and 1930s and, especially since efficient contact pickups became available (including some that are built into special bridges), has become widespread in most types of music. A number of electric bowed string instruments have been devised with soundboards (bodies) of reduced size, or no soundboards at all (see also Electronic instruments, §I, 2(i)(c)); the similar Stroh violin, though itself not electrified, was designed for use in the recording studio.

Other experiments in the adaptation of instruments of the violin family have included the mechanically operated modified string instruments (including two six-string violins with flat bridges for ease of executing three-note chords) constructed by Erich Doerlmann for Herbert, Eimert's ballet score Der weisse Schwan (1926), and Harry Partch's ‘adapted viola’ (1928–30) with a cello fingerboard, designed for playing microtonal music. New instruments have been constructed with different compasses and size–compass relationships: shortly before 1920 Léo Sir built six such instruments to complement the standard four (they were used in Honegger's Hymne pour dixtuor à cordes, 1920); and Carleen Maley Hutchins and Frederick A. Saunders of the Catgut Acoustical Society of America have devised a set of eight instruments (see New Violin Family) which have had some success (Henry Brant featured them in Concert for True Violins, 1966); single instruments designed to extend the compass of the normal violin are the Violino grande and Gunnar Schonbeck's treble violin (tuned a 4th higher). Ken Parker has constructed a ten-string double electric violin for the Indian violinist Lakshminarayana Shankar, in which two separate bodies with five strings each are mounted on a convex support; the strings can be tuned to cover a range from that of the double bass up to the violin. Jon Rose has modified a number of bowed strings: his instruments, which have additional strings (including sympathetic strings), bridges and fingerboards, include a ten-string ‘double violin’ whose two bodies are placed end to end on an extended neck, and a violin and cello with 19 strings. Violins have been made from metal, transparent or coloured perspex (for rock musicians); experimental lopsided instruments have been built, and violins, mandolins and guitars have been constructed from two-ply sheets of wood that are assembled from used matchsticks (some 10,000–12,000 per instrument) with the burnt heads retained for decoration.

Around 1920 Carlos Salzédo devised many new techniques for the harp, including glissandos and the use of various kinds of plectra; Anne LeBaron has prepared her harp with sheets of paper and crocodile clips. Electric harps and specially-designed pickups are manufactured; Zeena Parkins has played an electric harp of her own design.

Instrument modifications & extended performing techniques

4. Wind.

(i) Brass.

Modifications to brass instruments in the 20th century largely fell into three categories: the use of newly invented mutes; the use of ‘wrong’ mouthpieces; and alterations to the structure of an instrument. A number of new types of mute were introduced in jazz and dance bands in the early years of the 20th century, including a tin-can mute for a cornet (1917), various home-made mutes (used, notably, by the Original Dixieland Jazz Band), the ‘wa-wa’, aluminium ‘hat’ (modelled on the Derby bowler hat worn by musicians) and the ‘plunger’ (which in its original form was a rubber sink plunger without the handle); the last gives a very vocal quality to the sound and was pioneered in the 1920s by, among others, the trumpeter Bubber Miley. John Silber has explored a variety of new mutes for the trombone, including flat discs, found objects and several that incorporate tuned organ reeds. Reeds have also been added to mouthpieces: Silber has used many types of single-reed mouthpiece and another trombonist, Vinko Globokar, has played on different reeds and other mouthpieces; a bassoon reed has been fitted to the French horn by Gordon Mumma and in the Tromboon devised for ‘P.D.Q. Bach’ by Peter Schickele.

Modification of an instrument by rearranging the tubing or removing or adding sections has been explored by several virtuoso brass players. In Tubassoon (1979) Melvyn Poore features quadrophonic amplification of four open sections of the tuba, controlled by the valves and played with a bassoon reed; he has also played the tuba with a clarinet mouthpiece and an oboe reed. The tuba player Zdzisław Piernik has created an instrument with multiple bells, which somewhat resembles an experimental trombone invented by Adolphe Sax in the mid-19th century, having seven tubes with individual bells, and six valves. The improviser George Lewis has treated his trombone by removing sections while playing. In Bolos (1962) by Jan Bark and Folke Rabe special effects are produced by hitting the mouthpiece of a trombone with the palm of one hand, blowing through a separate mouthpiece and removing the slide so as to produce a ‘vacuum smack’. The distinctive uptilted bell of Dizzy Gillespie's trumpet (originally the result of an accident) was adopted by the trumpet section of his orchestra to compensate for the downwards angle of the instrument when the players were reading from a score.

(ii) Woodwind.

Woodwind instruments have been less often subjected to dismantling and rearrangement than brass, though Globokar's Discours IV (1974) calls for three performers playing a single clarinet body with three mouthpieces, and Evan Parker devised a similar Communal Blown Instrument in which a selection of wind mouthpieces are fitted to a single large tube with a horn. Special effects are obtained by using mouthpieces separated from their instruments, such as a double reed or the top joint of a single-reed instrument, and wind instruments with the mouthpiece, reed or top joint removed have been played somewhat in the manner of brass instruments (the first occurrence of the latter technique is probably in the part for sarrusophone in the opening of Ravel's opera L'heure espagnole, 1907–9).

The saxophone was the basis of several new instruments of an experimental nature: the jazz saxophonist Roland Kirk specialized in playing two unusual variants – the Manzello (a curved soprano, similar to the Saxello) and a modified Stritch (a straight alto) – simultaneously with a normal instrument; slide saxophones were briefly popular in the 1920s and 1930s and several modern versions have been made, including Paul Lytton's Lyttonophone; and Jim Sauter and Don Dietrich have created a composite saxophone by playing on two instruments with the rims of the bells touching. New designs for woodwind instruments, intended to simplify or extend their playing techniques, include the ‘logical bassoon’ with electric action, the slide Vermeulen flute, several new systems of keywork devised by Robert Dick, wind instruments that control small synthesizers, such as the Lyricon, Electronic Valve Instrument (later marketed by Akai, together with the saxophone-like EWI) and Yamaha's WX series, and the fanciful variants, one of which (fig.2) can be assembled in different ways, invented by Hans-Karsten Raecke. Flutes and pipes have been made of materials such as plastic and (increasingly) bamboo, and David Toop devised a combination of the Mirliton and a duct flute, in which a live wasp, imprisoned in an enclosed compartment, provides a drone. Devices added to woodwind instruments to modify their sound include the occasional improvised mute, and electronic devices which process the signal the instrument produces (such devices are widely used with other instruments, particularly the electric guitar, but octave multiplier and divider circuits are primarily intended for use with wind instruments).

Extended performance techniques have been thoroughly explored by woodwind players. Flutter-tonguing has become common, and other techniques, such as unorthodox cross-fingerings, multiphonics, split notes, circular breathing, and humming, singing or growling while playing, are becoming increasingly so. Key noise is specified in a number of works, the earliest of which was probably Varèse's Density 21·5 (1936).

Instrument modifications & extended performing techniques

5. Percussion.

A percussionist typically does not specialize in a single instrument, but learns more neutral finger and stick techniques that can be applied to any resonant object, which can just as easily be a found object or a newly invented instrument. During the 20th century the greatest expansion of resources was in the area of percussion; many of the instruments and performance techniques that are now standard in the symphony orchestra were first introduced up to the 1930s in jazz, variety performances, the music hall, accompaniments to ‘silent’ films and so on. This expansion can be divided into several areas: in addition to the modifications to be considered here, there are the enormous range of noise-makers and ‘found’ instruments required in some experimental works (for examples of which see Sound effects), the adoption and integration into the orchestra of many non-Western instruments (a process that has gone on for several centuries), the development of new instruments such as the flexatone, musical saw and vibraphone, and the recent evolution of Electronic percussion used primarily in rock music.

Familiar instruments have been used in many contexts as the source of new sounds, ranging from the ‘rimshot’ on drums, which first became popular in the 1920s, and the ‘water gong’ devised in 1937 by John Cage, to bowed cymbals and vibraphone keys, cymbals inverted on drum skins and the great variety of sounds obtained from a large Paiste tam-tam (160 cm diameter) activated by a battery of different objects in Stockhausen's Mikrophonie I (1964) (the sounds are also modified and amplified electronically). Substantial amplification of smaller percussion was employed in several works performed by the solo percussionist Max Neuhaus in the mid-1960s.

New variants of existing percussion instruments may be considered in corresponding groups. Several new drums have been devised, such as the Geophone, a rotating drum containing sand, used by Messiaen and others; the Boobams developed by William Loughborough which Henze has featured; and the Rototoms invented by Michael Colgrass in the 1960s, which offer the resources of a set of tuned drums that have been employed by Peter Maxwell Davies and other composers, as well as rock musicians. The sizzle cymbal and hi-hat, found chiefly in popular music and jazz, have been supplemented in improvisational contexts by cymbals made of scrap and found materials; Paul Burwell has cut small cymbals to square, elliptical and flower-like shapes, altering the ratio between the circumference and the size and therefore modifying the overtones they produce. Chimes and gongs have been made of unusual materials such as marble (Robert Erickson and Gunnar Schonbeck), stone (Carl Orff), glass (Annea Lockwood and the members of the Glass Orchestra), and bamboo, aluminium and steel (David Sawyer's Handchime). Modern versions of the musical glasses, as well as the struck Bouteillophone, are required in a number of 20th-century scores. Early in the century John Taylor & Co. of Loughborough constructed a set of cup bells (two and a half octaves) for the Dutch composer Daniel Ruyneman: Ruyneman's own Electrophone electric bells date from around the mid-1930s. Keyed percussion instruments are well-represented in the work of Harry Partch and other makers of microtonal instruments; in addition Ron George has built extended vibraphones, Schonbeck has made marimbas out of marble, and Christopher Charles Banta has specialized in building bass and contrabass marimbas with individual resonators. Various types of Lamellophone have been adopted or constructed, including the Marimbula specified by Cage in Imaginary Landscape no.3 (1942) and more recently in works by Henze.

Whole families of percussion instruments have been devised and used by Lucia Dlugoszewski (fig.3) and large numbers individually by Mauricio Kagel for his theatrical works. Several new ergonomically efficient systems for mounting percussion kits have been constructed, including the Loops console of Ron George.

The enormously expanded battery of instruments with which contemporary percussionists are often surrounded is accompanied by an equally large selection of beaters and sticks, and this has often led to the ‘wrong’ sticks being used, either from choice or because there is no time for the player to change to the appropriate ones. Two types of stick devised in the 20th century are the jazz ‘wire brush’ of the 1920s (adapted from an outdoor fly swatter) and the ‘superball mallet’ (based on the eponymous ultra-resilient rubber toy ball) originally constructed in the early 1970s, which is ideal for unusual friction effects. Multi-stick techniques, the player using two or more sticks in each hand, have become quite common; a similar approach is adopted in the part for the tapered kidney-shaped Deri drum in Stockhausen's Momente, where a fast tremolo is executed by two sticks (held in one hand) pivoting round a third stick that is drawn across the skin of the drum to create a glissando.

Instrument modifications & extended performing techniques

BIBLIOGRAPHY

BladesPI

GroveJ (‘Mute’, C. Bevan and A. Shipton)

A. Coeuroy: Panorama de la musique contemporaine (Paris, 1928), 150–64

L.-E. Gratia: ‘Les instruments de musique du XXe siècle’, Le ménestrel, xc (1928), 489–91; rev. in Les instruments de musique du XX siècle (Paris, 1931)

H. Cowell: ‘Chord Formation’, New Musical Resources (New York, 1930/R), 111–39

Piano Music by Henry Cowell, Folkways FM 3349 (1963) [disc notes]

B. Bartolozzi: New Sounds for Woodwind (London, 1967, 2/1981; It. orig., Milan, 1974)

R. Smith Brindle: Contemporary Percussion (London and New York, 1970/R)

E. Richards: Emil Richard's World of Percussion: a Catalog of 300 Standard, Ethnic, and Special Musical Instruments and Effects (Sherman Oaks, CA, 1972)

W. Brooks: ‘Instrumental and Vocal Resources’, Dictionary of Contemporary Music, ed. J. Vinton (New York, 1974; London, 1974 as Dictionary of Twentieth-Century Music), 339–49

P. Burwell, A. Nicholson and S. Beresford: ‘A Conversation about Pianos’, Musics, no.8 (1976), 4–7

C. Hamm: Sound Forms for Piano, New World Records NW 203 (1976) [disc notes]

D.L. Harrel: New Techniques in Twentieth-Century Solo Piano Music: an Expansion of Pianistic Resources from Cowell to the Present (diss., U. of Texas, 1976)

J. Blades: Drum Roll: a Professional Adventure from the Circus to the Concert Hall (London, 1977)

J. Hol: Some Saxophone History: its Origin and Early Use (London, 1982)

S. Papadimitriou: To ‘allo’ piano [The other piano] (Thessaloniki, 1983)

G. Battistelli: La mano del suono: arte e tecniche tattili degli strumenti a percussione (Milan, 1984)

M. Udow: ‘An Interview with Karlheinz Stockhausen’, Percussive Notes: Research Edition, xxiii/6 (1985), 4–47

L. Polansky: New Instrumentation and Orchestration: an Outline for Study (Oakland, CA, 1986)

J. Schaefer: ‘The Oldest and Newest Instruments’, New Sounds: a Listener's Guide to New Music (New York, 1987; London, 1990 as New Sounds: The Virgin Guide to New Music), 220–40

‘Inventer des Instruments’, Les Cahiers du CENAM, no.50 (1988)

H. Davies: ‘Maurice Ravel and the Luthéal’, Experimental Musical Instruments, iv/2 (1988), 11–14

‘Contemporary Percussion: Performer’s Perspectives’, CMR, vii/1 (1992) [special issue]

D. Cope: New Directions in Music (Madison, WI, 6/1993), 80–98

H. Davies: ‘Einige persönliche Erinnerungen an Stockhausens Gebrauch des Schlagzeugs’, Inventionen ’94 [festival programme book] (Berlin, 1994), 11–14; Eng. trans. in Avant, no.1 (1997), 24–5

D. Crombie: Piano: Evolution, Design and Performance (London, 1995)

B. Hopkin: Musical Instrument Design: Practical Information for Instrument Making (Tucson, AR, 1996)

‘Rare Instrumente’, Neue Zeitschrift für Musik, clx/2 (1999)

Instrumentation and orchestration.

The art of combining the sounds of a complex of instruments (an orchestra or other ensemble) to form a satisfactory blend and balance. The term ‘orchestration’ is often used to denote the craft of writing idiomatically for these instruments. ‘To orchestrate’ has also come to mean to score for orchestra a work written for a solo instrument or small ensemble. There have been many attempts to differentiate the terms ‘orchestration’ and ‘instrumentation’ since Berlioz juxtaposed the two in the title of his Grand traité d’instrumentation et d’orchestration modernes (Paris, 1843); in this context the two terms should be considered as inseparable aspects of a single musical concept. Instrumentation by itself is a more general term, denoting the selection of instruments for a musical composition, either as part of the composer’s art or by the performers for a particular performance.

See Orchestra; see also Arrangement. For a discussion of rock band instrumentation, see Band (i), §VI.

1. Middle Ages and Renaissance.

2. Baroque orchestration.

3. 1750 to 1800.

4. 19th century.

5. Impressionism and later developments.

6. Popular musical theatre.

KENNETH KREITNER (1), MARY TÉREY-SMITH (2), JACK WESTRUP (3), D. KERN HOLOMAN (4), G.W. HOPKINS/PAUL GRIFFITHS (5), JON ALAN CONRAD (6)

1. Middle Ages and Renaissance.

Orchestration is a difficult concept to apply to medieval and Renaissance music, if only because there was no ensemble that corresponded to the modern orchestra, and because composers almost never (except in the case of specialized notations such as lute tablatures) specified their intended instrumentations. The usual modern sense of the term, to mean the exploitation of different instrumental colours for their symbolic meanings and aesthetic effects, seems to have been foreign to most of the period. Yet even in the Middle Ages there were stereotyped instrumentations – each with its own developing, diverging practical tradition and symbolical associations – in which can be seen the basis of many of the later principles of orchestration.

From the Middle Ages through the 15th century, three types of instrumental ensemble predominated in Europe. The trumpet band (trumpets and kettledrums) was used for signalling (seeSignal (i)) and ceremonies (seeFestival, §2): it had a high prestige but, because of the limitations of the natural trumpet, a restricted musical usefulness. Soft or bas ensembles, consisting of a variety of bowed and plucked strings, woodwinds, portative organs, and so on, were used for indoor dancing and background music; such was the association of these instruments with secular activities that they were often prohibited in church (although, paradoxically, it is soft instruments that are most often depicted in angel-concert paintings). The loud band (haut musique or alta; see Alta (i)) of shawms, later with slide trumpets or trombones, was used for dancing, processions and other outdoor music, and its symbolic associations were somewhere between the other two: loud bands seldom appear in angel-concert paintings, but because of their ceremonial history, they were the first type of ensemble allowed in church. There is relatively little evidence before 1500 for voices and instruments regularly performing together on composed polyphony; when it happened, the instruments were usually those of the loud band for church music, and the lute and/or harp for secular songs.

In the 16th century these categories persisted, but they became increasingly blurred as instrumental music developed as an amateur pursuit, and as instruments that were equally at home in loud and soft music, such as the cornett and the dulcian, became more widely used. The 16th century also saw the rise of families of instruments, identical except for size and therefore pitch (e.g. viols or recorders) that could be played together as a homogeneous consort. In some cases where the highest or lowest members of the family were impractical, the standard consort used a substitution (the trombone family, for example, was completed by cornetts in the treble). The a cappella choir, which dominated both church polyphony and secular song for the entire Renaissance, probably should be considered the archetype for all instrumental consorts. The consort ideal governed or influenced most of the known instrumentations of the 16th century, including the largest ensembles, such as the famous band of S Marco, Venice, under the Gabrielis (essentially a redoubling and expansion of the standard cornett-and-trombone ensemble), and those accompanying the Florentine intermedii (which consisted of combinations of various instrumental family groups). Recorded instrumentations that combine instruments promiscuously are rare (but see Consort for a discussion of the English mixed consort of the late 16th century and the 17th).

Professional instrumentalists of the Middle Ages and Renaissance were trained to play many instruments, and they were routinely called upon to switch several times over the course of a performance. The best ensembles and their directors thus had considerable flexibility of instrumentation, and in some cases, notably the intermedii orchestras, they worked this flexibility to magnificent effect. However, their criteria for choosing one instrumentation over another remain largely unclear. The richest testimony to the late-Renaissance director's thought processes is probably the third volume (1618) of Praetorius's Syntagma musicum, with its long and detailed instructions on how to combine the different families of instruments with voices in concerted sacred music; yet the advice always centres on practical concerns (range, loudness, comfortable keys, the ability to play more than one note at a time) and never on the aesthetic motives behind any choice of instrumentation.

Throughout the 16th century there are at least hints that certain instrumental colours were being used for symbolic effect: intermedii orchestras, for example, often used trombones to accompany Olympian and infernal scenes, reeds for shepherd scenes, trumpets for battle scenes, etc. But the influence of this kind of thinking outside theatrical music should probably not be overestimated; for most working ensembles, matters of tradition and practicality were paramount. The old distinction of haut and bas, the ideal of the matched consort, the grandeur to be achieved by multiplying and combining families and adding chordal instruments such as organs and lutes, and the strengths and weaknesses of the individual instruments: some combination of these factors is sufficient to explain most of the normal instrumentations of the late Renaissance. And even to the end of the period and in the most distinguished ensembles, the desire for simple variety should not be discounted as a motivation: in 1586, for instance, Francisco Guerrero ordered the cathedral band of Seville to play their three verses of the Salve regina with shawms, cornetts and recorders, ‘for having them always on the same instrument is annoying’.

2. Baroque orchestration.

The evolution of orchestration in the Baroque era was closely related to four musical developments: the establishment of new, large-scale forms in which instrumental groups functioned as the accompaniment for vocalists (opera, oratorio, etc.); the adaptation of the concertato principle for ensembles including soloists (concerto types, suites, etc.); the unprecedented improvement and growth in instrument making during the 17th century (strings in Italy, woodwinds in France); and the acceptance of keyboard instruments as regular members of orchestras where they were entrusted with the harmonic support of the repertory.

Opera became the leading stimulus in the transformation of the earlier consort-based instrumentation into a gradually standardized mixed ensemble of strings, woodwinds, brass (with percussion) and continuo. In 17th-century Italy lavishly orchestrated court presentations and public opera houses with modest accompanying ensembles flourished side by side. Instrumental settings of court operas were governed by a number of factors: the type of occasion (indoor or outdoor), the size of the hall, the availability of players, and the content of the libretto. The latter had considerable influence on developing stereotypes in orchestration.

The symbolic usages of the intermedii ensembles discussed in §1, above, continued to be employed. For L'Orfeo (1607), Monteverdi specified 42 individual instruments grouped in three categories: strings (10 viole da brazzo, 2 violini piccoli alla Francese, 2 contra bassi da viole); the fundamenti (continuo section: 2 harpsichords, 1 double harp, 3 chitarroni, 2 ceteroni, 2 organi di legno, 2 regals, 1 basso de viola da brazzo); and winds (1 flautino all vigesima secondo; 2 flautini, 2 cornetti, 1 clarino con quatro trombe sordine, 5 trombones. The presence of the trombe sordini (muted trumpets) suggests that timpani would also have been used (as constituents of the contemporary trumpet band). His fascinating orchestration fused the late Renaissance tradition used in intermedii and pastorales and the new concertato style (e.g. ‘Possente spirto’) with the Venetian cori spezzati principle, creating a uniquely colourful style of instrumentation for the ritornellos and sinfonias. Among the great variety of court operas produced before 1670, it seems that Roman and Florentine composers such as Filippo Vitali, Stefano Landi, Caccini, and Antonio Cesti – whose Il pomo d'oro (Vienna, 1668) utilized the largest recorded court orchestra – were the most inspired by Monteverdi's orchestral innovations. By way of contrast, Venetian public opera houses (where interest was focussed on the virtuosity of the singers and the ingenuity of the machines) tended to employ much smaller ensembles, typically comprising a small string orchestra with a continuo of two or three plucked string instruments and keyboards, with the occasional addition of recorders and other wind instruments. Contemporary printed librettos indicate the use of individual instruments for special effects both on and off the stage.

As the century progressed there was a general change in scoring. The distinction between the use of continuo accompaniment for the voice and of orchestral ritornellos to fill in the interludes between stanzas gradually disappeared after 1650. The orchestra began to participate in the arias, adding imitative exchange, echoes or embellished melodic lines. An ensemble of three (2 violins and continuo) or five parts (2 violins, 2 violas and continuo) became standard. During the last three decades of the century, composers introduced solo wind parts in arias, as well as the concerto style with various obbligato instruments. The trumpet became increasingly popular, and began to appear regularly as a member of the orchestra, in addition to its customary use for special effects on and off the stage. Trumpets were used either in opening sinfonias set usually for two trumpets and five-part strings, or in arias written for solo voice and trumpet(s) with continuo accompaniment. In the sinfonias the winds alternate with the strings in concertato manner, except in the opening and closing bars where they all play together. The arias mostly use solo voice, solo trumpet and continuo for the A section of the Da Capo form, contrasted often with a string accompaniment for the middle section.

The orchestration of oratorios and cantatas was less uniform. During the first half of the 17th century instrumental scoring for sacred and secular vocal music tended to be based on the availability of players. Monteverdi's late madrigals sometimes require two to four string parts with basso continuo; in Il combattimento di Tancredi e Clorinda (1624) he uses pizzicato and measured tremolo to express the dramatic nature of the text. In the mid-17th century, a three-part setting (two upper parts and basso continuo) became the standard formula for accompanying larger vocal works. For short cantatas and other brief vocal pieces composers selected freely from the instruments available. All types of orchestration were affected by the gradual transformation of the older polychoral setting of church music into the concerto style, in which a small solo group (concertino) competed with the larger tutti (ripieno) ensemble.

A remarkable exploration of methods of orchestration took place in Rome at the turn of the century. A small chamber band comprising four violins, two violas, cello, double bass and keyboard, was regularly employed by Cardinal Ottoboni to perform concertos for entertainment, and also to accompany opera, oratorios and cantatas, all under the direction of Corelli. For special occasions they became part of a greatly extended ‘festival’ ensemble comprising 33 strings with harpsichord, and occasionally a few winds (trumpets, oboes and bassoons). An example of this flexibility in scoring is Lanciani's Amore e Gratitudine (1690–91) which was given ten times at the palace; of these, eight performances used the regular chamber orchestra, but the remaining two were supported by the 40-member ‘festival’ band without basic alterations in the music. Nevertheless, the ‘tutti’ and ‘soli’ indications for accompanied arias in the manuscript score suggest an orchestral division into concertino and concerto grosso groups. It seems that the practice of orchestral subdivision was customary in Corelli's orchestra beyond purely instrumental works. In the manuscript of G.L. Lulier's serenata Gloria, Roma, Valor (1700), also prepared for Ottoboni's musical establishment, the score indicates the individual concertino lines above the ripieno parts.

Rome was also the venue of Alessandro Scarlatti's mature musical output. Oboes, bassoons, trumpets and a four-part string group constitute the instrumental basis for his orchestration. In his orchestras after 1710 a standard string ensemble provides the accompaniment for the vocal solos; winds – in varied combinations – either take obbligato parts in arias or double the string parts in tutti writing. There are numerous special orchestral effects; e.g. a march in Tigrane where ‘the oboes and bassoons play on stage, the violins in the pit in unison’; Policar's aria (with string support) in the same opera features an obbligato viola d'amore part; ‘violoncello e leuto’ make up the concertino with unison violins and continuo as the ripieno in an aria for Tigrane. As continuo arias gradually disappeared from Scarlatti's stage works, accompanied recitatives took over the dramatically charged scenes. The exchange between the vocalists and the chordal-melodic punctuation in the strings provided the model for accompagnato settings throughout the 18th century. Concerted accompaniments were also frequent in his oratorios, where the composer often employed string ensemble with a concertino of one or two solo violins against a concerto grosso or ripieno set for two violins, two violas and basso continuo.

The principle of contrast regulated the orchestration in Baroque concerto forms. Such contrast could be limited to placing the four-part string tutti against concertino of violins – a method preferred by Corelli in his multi-movement structures – or extended to various configurations of solo strings and winds, an approach perfected and brought to virtuose heights by Vivaldi. The emphasis on contrast spread to most instrumental forms; dance suites and overtures in particular display great diversity in orchestration, ranging from solo woodwind phrases echoing tutti passages, to entire middle sections in da capo dance movements given to a trio of two oboes and bassoon.

The last three decades of the 17th century saw the rapid spread of the new Italian vocal and instrumental forms to all the major European musical centres. An increasing number of Italian composers were offered positions in foreign courts; there they either rearranged earlier works or composed new pieces to suit the local conditions. Inevitably, the need for diversity created a much broader spectrum in orchestration than the one they had left behind in Italy. Court opera developed in two major new locations, Vienna and Paris, both with considerable instrumental resources. Under Emperor Leopold I, the Habsburg court developed a permanent musical establishment for opera and oratorio (the latter given during Lent) which was noted for spectacular productions throughout the Baroque era. Italian domination manifested itself in all aspects of the Kapelle: composers, singers, librettists and several instrumentalists were imports. What the musical content lacked in originality, was made up for in resources; in 1705 the Hofkapelle numbered 102 members (including the vocalists). All contemporary Italian devices in orchestration were put to use: tutti strings enlarged with oboes and bassoons, concerted arias and duets with a variety of instruments, woodwind trios in dances and other instrumental pieces, brass ensembles in large choral scenes, and echo effects. Among the more unusual settings is the final scene of Antonio Draghi's Il riposo nelli disturbi (1689): composed for double choir, the first choir is accompanied by three ‘clarini’ and two trumpets, while the second group uses three sections of violins, two cornetts, three trumpets and basso continuo. Draghi also showed a preference for brass instruments in his oratorios. Other unorthodox combinations include the use of the chalumeau in works by Ziani and Giovanni Bononcini. However, in Vienna, as in Rome, the strongly individualistic approach to orchestration declined dramatically after 1720 in favour of more uniform string-dominated groupings (with a few winds).

In contrast to the Italian dominance of the Viennese musical scene, the evolution of orchestration in France followed an independent path. Although the Parisian court had at its disposal considerable instrumental resources from the beginning of the 17th century onwards (the Grande Ecurie, the Chapelle, the Chambre and the 24 Violons du Roi), a recognizable ‘French timbre’ started to emerge only after the ascension to the throne of Louis XIV, and the appointment of Lully as compositeur de la musique instrumentale in 1653. French Baroque orchestration owes its individuality to the ballet, which remained the favourite theatrical genre throughout this period. In place of the Italian vocal and instrumental bel canto idiom and the emphasis on virtuosity in instrumental music, Lully underlined the contrast of timbres among the woodwinds, strings, the extended continuo group and the occasional brass instruments. When in 1672 he assumed the direction of the Académie Royale de Musique, Lully had fused the 24 Violons du Roi and the ‘petits violons’ into a full orchestra of over 40 members. To this he added woodwind and brass players from the Ecurie and several ‘part-time’ players of unusual (non-orchestral) instruments. The regular orchestra consisted of a five-part string group of instruments of the violin family; bass viol, theorbo and harpsichord; transverse flute, recorders in five sizes, oboes and taille de hautbois, and bassoons; and trumpets with timpani. In the string group, the violins took the highest part (dessus de violon), 3 viola parts filled out the middle, and the basse de violon (tuned a whole tone lower than the cello) performed the bass part. Woodwinds were given prominent parts, sometimes without the strings. Furthermore, Lully established an elite chamber ensemble, the petit choeur, the members of which were charged with the ‘singing and accompanying of recitatives and ritournelles’ and, in general, with the performance of the most demanding pieces. Having created this distinctive subdivision within the orchestra, Lully extended the principle of contrast into a permanent system of performing practice in the Académie which was taken up by Rameau and remained a constant feature to the end of the Baroque era. As well as in his ingenious application of the subdivisions of the orchestra, Rameau's importance as an innovative orchestrator lies chiefly in the well-drawn indications for individual instrumental use in his colourful scores and in his nature-related music, which ranges from solemn ‘sun festivals’, to bird songs, tempests and earthquakes.

17th-century England was slow to adopt continental musical customs. This reluctance was due partly to the political upheaval caused by the Civil War, partly to the abolition of the King's Musick during the Commonwealth, and partly to the preference of the music-loving public for the contrapuntal idiom of late Renaissance vocal and instrumental works. Outside the court, very few of the aristocracy maintained a musical group large enough to include an orchestra. In addition, the new Italian violins, the essential component of the Baroque orchestra, became available in larger numbers in England relatively late, after 1660. Hence, regardless of the fact that about 100 musicians were engaged at court until 1642, a systematic orchestral practice did not evolve until the last decade of the century. In general, English composers dealt with orchestration in a more individualistic way than their Italian and French counterparts. On the one hand, court music – prompted by Charles II's preference for the French orchestral style – embraced the newly-organized band of the 24 violins (with a few additional winds), using it for entertainment, birthday odes, masques and other fashionable pieces, all played in the Lullian manner. On the other hand, the theatre provided English composers with an opportunity to exploit more unusual instrumentations. Though the infiltration of Italian concerted music increased from 1670 onwards, the English theatre orchestras, unlike those of the Venetian opera houses, were not dominated by the string group. Oboes, bassoons, recorders, transverse flutes, trumpets and timpani were the preferred instruments in larger productions together with a four-part string ensemble and harpsichord. For occasional music, a three-part setting was the standard arrangement in vocal pieces and instrumental interludes alike, while choral scenes used the tutti strings with trumpets or oboes. Certain characteristic patterns can be observed in the music of Purcell: vocal solos were often accompanied by two recorders or flutes and basso continuo; the trumpet appears as a favoured timbre, with a solo voice and continuo, or as a pair in conjunction with four-part strings and continuo for symphonies (sometimes two oboes, tenor oboe, bassoon and timpani were added to this grouping). A curious ‘special effect’ marked ‘tremulo’ occurs in the ‘Prelude while the Cold Genius rises’ in King Arthur.

In reference to foreign influences, one finds connections to the French style of orchestral subdivision in a number of scores written during the last decade of the 17th century: ‘Grand Chorus’ or ‘play all’ is contrasted with the term ‘vers’ for solo voice with small ensemble accompaniment in works by Eccles, Jeremiah Clarke, Daniel Purcell and Finger; and trio sections are scored for two oboes and bassoon, in the French style. Native experimentation with instrumentation for stage music and orchestral works was cut short by the successful introduction of Italian opera to English audiences (Giovanni Bononcini: Camilla, London première, 1706). The sensation caused by Handel's Rinaldo (1711) illustrates the shift in public taste towards the Italian style. Handel's orchestration, however, is not purely Italian: elements from the French tradition (extensive use of woodwind instruments) are mixed with the German interest in brass sound and spiced with ‘special effects’, all fused into a wide palette of timbres. In Handel's orchestral music the size and combination of instruments seem determined by the form and occasion. The concerti grossi were set for the Corelli-type string chamber group enlarged at times with solo woodwinds but a wind band of over 100 players performed the Music for the Royal Fireworks during a public dress rehearsal at Vauxhall Gardens. Handel's imagination for instrumental hues came to the fore in his operas and oratorios. There his basic orchestra of strings, woodwinds, a select brass group and continuo adhered to the Italian concerto subdivision: the ripieno section played the introductions and ritornellos in arias and duets, whereas the vocal accompaniment was assigned to the smaller (concertino) group, comprising mostly strings. Recorders and flutes continued their traditional role in pastoral scenes; exceptional virtuosity appears in the transverse flute writing of L'Allegro, il Penseroso ed il Moderato, where the soprano and the solo flute imitate bird calls over a light continuo accompaniment. As in Italy, brass instruments are usually added to the choir in dramatic scenes and there are numerous instances where brass sounds are used to signify danger, death or conspiracy. Two examples of ‘special effects’ used by Handel are the carillon (a keyboard instrument on which hammers strike bells or metal plates) in L'Allegro and the harp mixed with the mandolin in Alexander Balus to suggest an exotic oriental sound.

New Italian forms were introduced in Germany by Schütz following his two visits to Venice during the early part of the 17th century, but his attempts to create a broader base for a truly German Baroque instrumental sound were all but eradicated by the ravages of the Thirty Years War. Germany's artistic recovery (after 1670) coincided with the gradual spread of Italian and French styles in orchestration. Orchestras were traditionally employed at courts, in wealthy independent cities and by the larger congregations of the Lutheran churches. The activities of the Collegium musicum societies of German universities increased the public's awareness of contemporary music and helped to create a demand for permanent instrumental groups in smaller centres by the end of the Baroque period. While Munich, Dresden, Berlin and the courts in the far eastern provinces demonstrated a strong dependence on Italian customs, the western and northern regions showed a varying level of interest in the musical style of France: young composers such as Georg Muffat, Johann Fischer, J.C.F. Fischer and J.S. Kusser were sent to Paris to learn the ‘new’ violin technique and subsequently composed in the latest fashionable contemporary forms.

Major court orchestras averaged between 14 and 20 players in size, though this number was sometimes increased for festive occasions. The orchestra of the publicly supported Hamburg opera was the only ensemble in the independent cities comparable in size to that of the Académie Royale de Musique. The larger court bands of Brunswick, Hannover and Stuttgart had enough flexibility to perform orchestral works and concertos, accompany operas and other vocal pieces, and play dance music for the ballet. The standard German Baroque orchestra contained all the wind and string instruments (with some percussion) regularly used in Italian and French orchestras, and the resulting mixed style of orchestration is characteristic of late Baroque instrumental practice in Germany. The Italian virtuoso concertino-ripieno orchestration functioned alongside the French multi-level petit choeur-grand choeur division, often employed alternately for consecutive movements or arias in the same piece. Recurring ideas include a solo violin with solo voice over a basso continuo accompaniment, with or without strings; flutes used as a contrast against the tutti orchestra or as unaccompanied instrumental colour in arias; and muted double-reed and brass instruments. After 1700 pizzicato became a widely used device, sometimes involving the complete string section, at other points the cello section or the double basses alone.

Bach's experimentation with unusual timbres and newly designed instruments resulted in seemingly endless combinations. In his orchestral works he increased the number of concertino players and scored for a greater diversity of solo instruments (e.g. Brandenburg Concertos nos.1 and 2). In scoring for the ‘quiet’ instruments (transverse flute, bass viol, etc.) the entire ensemble was considered as a concertino with additional continuo accompaniment (Brandenburg Concertos nos.3 and 6); hence there was no need for doubling. Furthermore, he transferred the violin-dominated solo concerto idiom to the harpsichord, thereby elevating that continuo instrument to solo status in the orchestra and establishing the keyboard concerto as an independent form. Bach's most ingenious scoring can be found in his large-scale vocal works, written mainly for the Lutheran church service. He maintained variety, often in accordance with the dictates of the text, by mixing contemporary (French, Italian) performing customs with the earlier polychoral technique, thus creating a rich source of vocal and instrumental colours to be played by solo and tutti ensembles within the available subdivisions. His diverse instrumentation included, in the woodwinds: the transverse flute, recorder, flauto piccolo, four types of oboe (including da caccia, taille, and d'amore) and bassoon; in the brass: horns, trumpets and timpani, and trombones, to which the corno da tirarsi, tromba da tirarsi and cornetto are added; and the strings were extended to include the violino piccolo, viola d'amore, violetta, bass viol, violoncello piccolo and viola pomposa. For a more detailed discussion of his use of continuo instruments, see Dreyfus (1987).

An examination of Baroque orchestration would be incomplete without a brief mention of Telemann's contribution to the subject. In his preface to Der Harmonischer Gottes-Dienst (1725–6) he reiterated most of the above described principles of instrumental usage relative to vocal accompaniment: when and how to combine the solo obbligato part with the ripieno and, as a reference to performance practice, the double meaning of dynamic signs, i.e. f = loud/tutti, p = soft/solo. Furthermore, it is generally accepted that the orchestration of his later works serves as a transition towards the galant style through colourful timbre combinations within a lighter texture that placed the emphasis on the melodic line.

3. 1750 to 1800.

The change of style in instrumental music which occurred towards the middle of the 18th century naturally affected methods of orchestration. Under the influence of the Italian opera overture and the prevailing aristocratic taste, composers came to adopt a style of writing that emphasized a single melodic line, often based initially on the major or minor triad, and relied on crisp rhythms in allegro movements. There was not, however, a complete break with the past. Fugal movements or movements containing extensive fugato writing, occur, often as finales, in the works of Richter, Monn, Wagenseil, the two Haydns and Dittersdorf, and may be said to reach their climax in the finale of Mozart’s ‘Jupiter’ Symphony (no.41). The clarity of Baroque orchestration was maintained, so much so that often the strings are in two-part harmony, with first and second violins in unison and violas an octave above the cellos. The reason for treating the violas in this way can hardly be the alleged incapacity of viola players, since they were expected to be as nimble as the other strings. The purpose is obviously to add a greater clarity to the bass line, as an organist might by adding a 4' stop on the pedals. The practice of writing figured basses gradually disappeared during the second half of the 18th century, though it is still to be found in C.P.E. Bach’s symphonies and continued in London for some time (e.g. in symphonies by J.C. Bach and Boyce). A keyboard instrument, however, remained an essential part of the orchestra and presumably supplied the missing harmonies when the texture was in two parts.

Many of the earlier symphonies are written for an orchestra of two oboes, two horns, bassoons and strings, sometimes with the addition of a single flute and sometimes with two flutes replacing the oboes. As late as 1788 Mozart, in the first version of his G minor Symphony (no.40, k550), was writing for an orchestra of this size. These limited resources provided fewer opportunities for contrast than the larger Baroque ensembles, but the principle of contrast was still observed, though it operated in a rather different way. Oboes doubled the violins in a tutti and intervened from time to time as soloists. Doubling, however, was not consistent, and a further use for oboes and horns was found in the provision of a harmonic background, either sustained or emphasizing the beats in a tutti. When four horns were used, for example in occasional symphonies by Vanhal, Haydn (nos.13, 31, 39 and 72) and Mozart (nos.18, 19, 25 and 32), an even richer background was possible, particularly if the two pairs of horns were crooked in different keys. Bassoons, at first used merely to double the bass, became more and more independent: like the oboes and horns they could contribute to the harmonic background, and a single bassoon could share solo passages with the other woodwind. Mozart in particular delighted in writing for flute and bassoon two octaves apart. Passages for wind alone, in contrast to the strings, for example in Haydn’s ‘Military’ Symphony (no.100), are common, as they had been in the early part of the century, but more characteristic is the occasional appearance of one or more wind instruments from the ensemble.

The introduction of the clarinet, in an improved form, added to the resources of the woodwind family, but it was not until the later years of the century that it became generally available. Apart from concertos (e.g. those by Carl Stamitz) the earlier composers showed little understanding of the instrument’s capabilities and tended to treat it like a variety of oboe, to which indeed it was often an alternative. The writing for clarinets in Mozart’s ‘Paris’ Symphony (k297/300a, 1778) shows no evidence of the sensitive approach to be found in his works a few years later. In the five symphonies from Haydn's Second London Set which include clarinets there are isolated solo passages (notably in nos.99 and 103) but relatively little idiomatic writing, though shortly afterwards he wrote effectively for the instrument in The Creation (1798).

An early example of arpeggios in the lower register of the clarinet occurs in the Andante of the overture to J.C. Bach’s Temistocle (1772), written for Mannheim. There are three clarinets here, described as ‘clarinetti d’amore’. The notation is for instruments in D, with the third instrument written in the bass clef and transposing up a 9th in accordance with a convention of the time. Since, however, the arpeggios for the third instrument go down to written C (sounding d) it seems probable that the parts, in spite of the notation, are actually for clarinetti d’amore in G, the key of the movement. Later effective examples of arpeggios in the lower register occur in the introduction to Haydn’s The Creation and the Trio of the Minuet in Mozart’s Symphony in E (no.39, k543). Arpeggios covering a wider range are common in concertos and in pieces like the aria ‘Parto, parto’ in Mozart’s La clemenza di Tito (1791), where the clarinet obbligato is played by an instrument with an extension of a major 3rd to the bottom of its compass. It may have been a growing appreciation of the tone-colour of the lower register of the clarinet that induced composers to replace it on occasion by the basset-horn.

In an ensemble consisting of woodwind, horns and strings there were no serious problems of balance; it was obviously felt, however, that the high trumpet parts written by earlier composers would disturb this balance. Such parts were still being written in England by Boyce as late as the 1770s, but continental composers preferred to avoid the higher register and to use trumpets mainly to reinforce a tutti, though the limited number of notes available imposed some uncomfortable restrictions when the music modulated away from the tonic key. When Mozart provided additional accompaniments for Messiah in 1789 he suppressed or rewrote all Handel’s trumpet parts, though he originally thought of retaining the obbligato in ‘The trumpet shall sound’. A natural consequence of the change of style was that trumpeters lost the art of playing florid parts in the high register. Horn players did not suffer the same fate. Passages of extreme difficulty, both at the top and at the bottom of the compass, occur in a number of late 18th-century works, for example in Haydn’s Symphony no.51 (c1772), where in the Adagio the first horn (in E) rises by step to the 22nd harmonic (sounding a'') and the second horn descends to the note sounding B. Mozart made less extravagant demands but did not exclude virtuosity, for example in Fiordiligi’s aria ‘Per pietà’ in Così fan tutte (1789). Timpani, as in the past, were normally, but not invariably, associated with trumpets. Composers discovered that both trumpets and timpani could be used quietly, as well as to reinforce a sonorous tutti. In the Adagio of Haydn’s Symphony no.102 both the trumpets and the timpani are muted, though they are required to play forte as well as piano. An effective use of piano timpani, without trumpets, is at the end of ‘Et incarnatus’ in Haydn’s Theresienmesse (1799).

Until the invention of the valve trumpet in the 19th century a flexible and homogenous brass ensemble was hardly possible. Gluck, in Orfeo ed Euridice (1762), followed the old tradition of associating cornetts with trombones; but by that time the cornett was virtually obsolete, and Gluck had to replace the instruments with clarinets when he revised the work for Paris in 1774. The reintroduction of trombones into opera was natural at a time when composers sought to intensify the impact of drama. Hence Gluck used them in Orfeo to give extra emphasis to the Furies’ cries of ‘No’ and to create a striking contrast with the harp and pizzicato strings which accompany Orpheus. Trombones are also associated with the Furies in Iphigénie en Tauride (1779) and similarly with the statue and the powers of Hell in the final scene of Mozart’s Don Giovanni (1787). As instruments which had long been used in the church, they were equally suitable for scenes of a solemn or ritual character, such as the march that opens the second act of Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte (1791) and the aria ‘O Isis und Osiris’ which follows. In church music and oratorio their main function was to support the altos, tenors and basses of the chorus.

By the end of the 18th century the treatment of the woodwind, whether it included clarinets or not, had acquired a subtlety unknown to the earlier symphonists. The master of this art was Mozart, not least in his piano concertos. The instruments engage in dialogue with each other or with the solo pianist. Phrases are nonchalantly passed from one to the other, so that the instrumental colour is constantly shifting and changing. The horns, though less prominent as soloists, participate in this activity. This subtlety extended to opera; the entry of the horns in the aria ‘Dove sono’ in Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro (1786) has an emotional force far exceeding the simple means employed. Gluck had already shown how instruments could interpret what the characters in a drama were feeling or even what was in their subconscious minds. In Orfeo a wind instrument echoes the singer’s cry ‘Euridice’ – a clarinet (chalumeau) in the original version, an oboe in the revised version for Paris. The plaintive appoggiaturas for oboe in Agamemnon’s air ‘Peuvent-ils ordonner’ in Iphigénie en Aulide (1774) show Gluck’s instinct for choosing the right instrument, as does the flute solo in the D minor Ballet of the Blessed Spirits in the Paris Orphée which drew from Berlioz the exclamation ‘Quel poète!’. Haydn’s approach was on the whole more direct; but the oboe solo at the end of the introduction to his Symphony no.104 is very much in Gluck’s vein, and the influence of opera is apparent also in the recitative for solo violin in Symphony no.7 (‘Le midi’), to which C.P.E. Bach’s Symphony in F (1776) supplies a parallel. Haydn had a gift for vivid illustration, for example ‘La tempesta’ (beginning quietly) at the end of his Symphony no.8 (‘Le soir’) or the lion’s roar – on trombones, bassoon and double bassoon, with trills for the strings – in The Creation. Equally vivid are the loud whoops for trombones in the hunting chorus in The Seasons (1801) – a type of writing that one associates more with Verdi; and in the finale of the Symphony no.68 the bassoons, generally regarded in the 18th century as serious instruments, are treated as clowns.

The emphasis on dramatic expression in operas of the second half of the 18th century led to a more extensive and detailed indication than formerly of dynamics, notably in the operas of Jommelli and Traetta. Abrupt alternations of piano and forte, sharp accentuation (sforzando) and the use of crescendo and diminuendo were characteristic of a new style of orchestral writing. The style immediately affected the composition of symphonies, and the crescendo, frequently used at the beginning of a movement, became a feature of performances at Mannheim, as well as being used by composers elsewhere, for example by Haydn in his Symphony no.1 and by Gossec in his op.3 no.6. It is unusual, however, to find distinctions of dynamics between one part of the orchestra and another; if a solo is marked piano, for example, the accompaniment is not normally marked pianissimo. Brass instruments usually have the same dynamics as woodwind and strings, and a good balance must have depended on verbal direction at rehearsal.

4. 19th century.

The 18th-century legacy to nascent Romanticism was significant. With Haydn and Mozart an increasingly standard orchestral force based on pleasing symmetries of voice, colour and number had taken shape, most progressively with the addition of the clarinet to the woodwind section. There arose a repertory of primarily orchestral devices – the so-called ‘Mannheim’ effects, drone figures to signify rusticity, the pairing of horns in 5ths to suggest pastorality, the use of fugue as a proffer of academic credentials, the association of brass and janissary percussion with military and by extension political activity, the monologues and conversations of the Mozart concertos – which began to be known and used well beyond their initial spheres of influence. Composers for the Italian lyric stage recognized the connection between character and instrumental timbre, as well as the possibilities of applying the vocal bel canto style to orchestral parts; the French had seen and heard remarkable exercises in the deployment of large instrumental and vocal forces by considerations of space, speed and volume. The new intersections of artistic enterprise fostered the notion of an essentially poetic use of the orchestra, one that emphasized the obvious correlations between visual and audible colour.

Both economic prosperity and the need to address sweeping demands for increased capacity on every musical front stimulated a new burst of activity in instrument manufacture that included both the perfection of rudimentary mechanics and the invention of whole new families of instruments. Innovation in instrument manufacture kept pace with composers’ demands and in turn stimulated compositional advances. Chromatic mechanisms for the woodwind instruments (most notably the Boehm system, as perfected by the Triébert family for oboe, by H.E. Klosé and L.-A. Buffet for the clarinet, and by Almenraeder and Heckel for the bassoon) emerged in the 1830s and 40s. Piston- and rotary-valved brass instruments were introduced to the orchestra in the late 1820s and commonly adopted within a decade. A chromatic harp was made possible by Erard’s double-action pedal mechanism of 1810. Instruments of the violin family were built with longer necks and fingerboards, a higher bridge, and increased tension of the strings to obtain a more powerful sound; use of the Tourte bow eventually became universal. The Romantics’ fascination with classical antiquity resulted in antique cymbals and Middle-Eastern percussion being brought into the orchestra (and not a few suggestions of what was understood as the Greek and Roman heritage); military bandsmen, often simultaneously engaged as orchestral wind players, made use of a bewildering variety of old and new families of instruments.

Beethoven’s many advances in orchestration were studied and absorbed by subsequent composers. Some notable effects are his melodic use of timpani in the Violin Concerto and scherzo of the Ninth Symphony, the separating of the double bass and cello lines in the ‘Eroica’ and the scherzo of the Fifth, and the birdcalls and other descriptive elements in the ‘Pastoral’. Heroic ideals necessitated the enlargement of the orchestral force, which soon routinely included piccolo, double bassoon and three trombones. In the funeral march of the ‘Eroica’ Symphony Beethoven fashioned a noteworthy internal cross-reference with the use of percussive rhythmic figures in the accompanying strings to suggest a drum tattoo; in the Fourth Piano Concerto he engaged the performing force in an overt conversation, harnessing orchestration to evoke voice, gender and the suggestion of some unknown narrative. (This kind of thinking resonates strongly in Robert Schumann’s Piano Concerto in A minor, 1841–5, where the piano takes a primarily ‘feminine’ role and the orchestra a ‘masculine’ one: almost certainly intended to suggest the voices of Clara and Robert themselves.) The addition of vocal soloists and a choir for the finale of the Ninth Symphony (1822–4) marked a turning point in orchestral sound, purpose and possibility.

Schubert’s last two symphonies, the ‘Unfinished’ (1822) and the ‘Great’ C major (1825–8), could not have greatly influenced the earliest Romantic efforts owing to their temporary disappearance; yet they came to be known to both Schumann and Mendelssohn by the late 1830s and may well have had an impact on those composers’ subsequent works. Schubert’s orchestral technique evolved from a simplistic, almost naive approach in his scoring of the Fifth Symphony (1816; no clarinets, trumpets or timpani) to the sophisticated orchestrational details (string tremolo, haunting interjections of the trombones and so on) that serve as agents of a prevailingly psychological argument in the ‘Unfinished’. In the ‘Great’ Symphony he again redefined orchestral possibility, with unprecedented washes of bold, homogeneous tutti sonority, the full integration of the trombones, and the refined delicacies of the slow movement, epitomized by the duo of cellos and oboe, and the gentle horn motif. The immediate repercussions of Weber’s Der Freischütz (1821) were substantial, notably by virtue of the opera’s success in defining intersections of dramatic, scenic and orchestral effect: e.g. the Samiel motif played by the timpani and by pizzicato double bass beneath tremolo strings, the use of horns to depict hunting, and the pair of piccolos used to evoke the supernatural.

Given its often prosaic strategies of accompaniment, Italian opera was a surprisingly fertile proving ground for imaginative deployment and combinations of instrumental voices. In the orchestral introduction to a singer’sScena, an extended instrumental solo with cadenzas might accompany the vocalist’s entrance and continue into the recitative, e.g. the music for horn and harp which precedes Giulietta’s ‘Oh! quante volte’ from Bellini’s I Capuleti e i Montecchi (1830). The familiar ‘Rossini crescendo’ is primarily a matter of orchestration; the cello episode from the overture to Rossini’s Guillaume Tell (1829), another milepost in the association of orchestral and human voice, was reflected in such passages from Verdi’s work as the opening of La Traviata and the love scene in Act 1 of Otello. The economics of grand opera required, above all, ongoing novelty, as much from the orchestra as from stage machinery and scenic tableaux. In Les Huguenots (1836) Meyerbeer called for a viola d’amore (played in the first performance by Chrétien Urhan, who was also the viola soloist for Berlioz’s Harold en Italie) and bass clarinet; he used saxhorns in Le prophète (1849). The increasing degree of violin virtuosity also had its effect on writing for strings, as instructions such as pizzicato, con sordino, sul ponticello and col legno became common in orchestral parts.

Berlioz, Mendelssohn and, to a lesser extent, Schumann profited as much from each other in defining the Romantic orchestra as they did from their predecessors. Berlioz, with his rare blend of curiosity, observation and passionate commitment to innovation, was the most progressive of the three. His approach to orchestral deployment grew naturally from his interest in expanding the ideals of the symphonic genre, typically for narrative or dramatic effect. Already in the Messe solennelle of 1824 the trumpets of the Day of Judgement are unleashed; by the Grande messe des morts (1837) the same material is presented by four brass choirs, one placed at each corner of the performance space, thus articulating what he later called his ‘architectural’ approach. The list of progressive details in the Symphonie fantastique, Berlioz’s first symphony (1830), is formidable: the troubled cello and double bass heartbeats at the start of the idée fixe; the two harps in the waltz movement; the echo dialogue between the english horn and an offstage oboe, and the ‘distant thunder’ of timpani in the pastoral scene; the clarinet evocations of the Beloved in both the fourth and fifth movements; and the bone-rattling col legno in the witches’ dance. The finale’s splendid opening with eerie and grotesque effects of muted divisi tremolo strings, wind glissandos and wolfish brass with stopped-horn echoes confirms the arrival of a persuasive new approach to orchestral sonority. Of these originalities, perhaps the most quickly absorbed were the multiple divisi writing for strings (also essayed by Mendelssohn) and the expansion of the woodwind from pairs to triples and quadruples with the addition of the piccolo, the english horn and the E clarinet. The extent of the influence of Berlioz and French grand opera on Wagner is most audible in the opening gesture of the Prelude and the english horn solo in Act 3 of Tristan und Isolde. More subtle features of Berlioz’s style are the increasing association of timbre with gender (e.g. the voices of Harold, Romeo and Juliet) and the quintessentially French decoration of the night musics in Roméo et Juliette, Les Troyens and Béatrice et Bénédict. Equally original and provocative is the ‘once upon a time’ opening of Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream overture (1826), whose four chords for high woodwind seem to define how the combination of harmony, contour and registration can instantly evoke a narrative context; his elfin, lunar brush stroke carries through the overture and much of the later incidental music. Similarly evocative approaches are to be found in the descriptive overtures, most notably Die Hebriden (first performed 1832) and the spectacular scenic world of Elijah (1846). In the symphonies Mendelssohn adopted a somewhat more conservative stance, but all three major works (the Reformation Symphony, 1830, rev.1832; the Italian Symphony, 1833, rev.1834; and the Scottish Symphony, 1842) embrace the idea of orchestration to emphasize programmatic context. Tradition has it that Schumann’s understanding of orchestral possibility was rudimentary or flawed – and Chopin’s non-existent – but at the very least both composers demonstrated the particular poetry to be found in the interaction of a solo pianist and orchestra.

By the time Romanticism was in full flower, in the 1830s, it was necessary to take stock of the modern orchestra and to theorize its very concept. The first treatises on the new crafts of ‘instrumentation’ and ‘orchestration’ were by the French bandmaster Jean-Georges Kastner (1837, 1839) and by Berlioz (1843). Both men described the ambitus and acoustic properties of the available instruments and presented cases of their effective use by way of published musical examples in score. Berlioz emphasized the work of the composers he most revered – Gluck, Spontini and Beethoven – along with a few passages of his own; Kastner, meanwhile, described how the celebrated Tuba mirum from Berlioz’s Grande messe des morts had been constructed. Richard Strauss translated Berlioz’s work into German, appending new examples from later composers (1904–5), and Widor described his own treatise (1904) as an updated supplement. Other important texts (notably Gevaert, 1863; Ebenezer Prout, 1876; Rimsky-Korsakov’s Principles of Orchestration, 1913) followed the same general strategy. As the 19th century progressed, orchestration came to be understood as it is today: on the one hand, the disciplined knowledge of the construction and technical character of the individual instruments, readily learnt from manuals and directly from orchestral musicians; on the other, the body of thought concerning orchestral purpose, effect and philosophy, best learnt from the detailed study of published scores by innovatory composers. As textbooks the treatises served their purpose well (as in the case of Bruckner, who learnt his trade from books); as essays in aesthetics they were conspicuously less coherent. This latter might be said, too, of Wagner’s florid but uninformative musings on the orchestra’s role in music drama.

What is important about the treatises is how they tend to assume an entirely new, major step in the compositional enterprise, one that takes place after completion of a bar-for-bar draft playable at the keyboard. Operas, for instance, usually existed in vocal score long before the final full score and parts were ready; composers talked of having nearly finished a work, with only the orchestration left to do. So conceived, 19th-century orchestration amounts to a dialectic between the initial composition of passages with a particular scoring in mind, and the craft of subsequently distributing the rest among the available force. It could scarcely have been otherwise, given the multitude of different instruments (and transposition schemes) available to the symphonist, who now needed a fundamentally different compositional process than that which was required to compose a work for keyboard, chamber ensemble or strings alone. The second edition of Berlioz’s orchestration treatise (1855) included a new essay on ‘The Conductor’s Art’, recognizing another basic change: the transfer of authority for the transmission of orchestral works to another party. The daily interaction between chapelmaster and musicians was lost, and the conductor now shaped and in some respects finished the work according to his own sense of its sound and structure and the performance traditions of his orchestra. The notation of full scores became correspondingly more detailed, with instructions directed as much to the conductor as to the individual players.

Liszt, who came to symphonic composition in the late 1840s, was initially constrained by the modest size of the Weimar court orchestra (fewer than 40 players) and by his own inexperience; for a time August Conradi and later Joachim Raff assisted him in expanding short scores for full orchestra. But by the time of his orchestral masterpiece, Eine Faust-Symphonie (1854), he was able to muster a full force to excellent and decidedly personal effect, notably in the delicate and much admired chamber textures of the ‘Gretchen’ movement. Likewise in the 1850s Verdi developed a recognizably personal orchestral idiom, characterized largely by multi-octave doublings and great fertility in rhythmic distribution of the standard, repeated-note accompaniments of Italian tradition. The density of the notation tends to mask the subtlety of the result, a delicacy of nuance accomplished through staccatos, rests, and a prevailing soft dynamic: Verdi frequently admonished his conductors to do nothing with the orchestra that would impede expression onstage. Even the most explosive segments of the Requiem (1874) embrace a clarity of orchestral gesture seldom achieved in contemporaneous works of corresponding size.

Wagner’s revolutionary redistribution of the orchestral force proceeded along two distinct avenues: the weaving of intricate orchestral counterpoint into a foundation of string sonority on the one hand, and the block opposition of large homogenous choirs, or bands, on the other. The brass were especially appropriate to the subject matter of the Ring (first performed 1876), with its dominant themes of heroism and strife and its frequent allusions to the nether regions; the result was a prevailing sonority of ponderous low-register brass, including not only bass trumpet, bass trombone and contrabass tuba, but also the specially designed choir of Wagner tubas. By contrast the unfulfilled longing of Tristan und Isolde is established largely by way of the melancholy double-reed sonorities; its ecstacy and night-time passion, by the strings. In sheer numbers the Wagnerian orchestra constitutes a quantum leap from a few dozen to nearly a hundred players, the size assumed by many later composers to be the orchestral norm. The post-Wagnerian composers Bruckner, Saint-Saëns and Franck, all of whom were organists, sensed and carried forward a correlation between Wagner’s manipulation of the orchestral choirs and the registration of the pipe organ. Bruckner retained a strong reliance on the horns and low brass, notably in the Adagio of his Seventh Symphony (1881–3), the lament on Wagner’s death with its celebrated climax for four Wagner tubas and conventional bass tuba. Brucknerian textures are often defined by string tremolo and pizzicato, the latter frequently outlining bass ostinato patterns over which various contrapuntal strategies are played out, but there is a concomitant effort to escape Wagnerian density in a search for clarity and sobriety of expression.

Brahms’s practice combines an essentially Beethovenian approach to orchestral size and purpose with a pianist’s understanding of multi-octave ambitus (e.g. Third Symphony, first movement) and bimanual juxtaposition (Second Symphony, second movement). The unmistakable, characteristic Brahms sound is achieved through a sensuous blend of interlocking melodic solos and duos supported by richly figured accompaniments rooted primarily in the strings. His considerable store of orchestral originality, e.g. the horn solo with violin obbligato at the close of the Andante of the First Symphony (1862–76), the triangle in the scherzo of the Fourth (1884–5) and the unprecedented sonorities of the solo work in the Double Concerto for violin and cello (1887), is put more to the service of structural rigour than glamorous display. But his copiously decorated final cadences achieve as climactic an effect as any in the century.

Late Romantic composers committed to nationalist ideals or the programmatic genres tended to proffer orchestral analogues of popular practice in which castanets, tambourines and guitar effects flavoured the ubiquitous Spanish rhapsody, and all manner of village band imitations – notably woodwinds in parallel 3rds – were intended to suggest the presumed simple pleasures of rustic life. Orchestrational device joined dance patterns, modal inflection and native language in the coding of nationalism. Late Romantic programme music relied heavily on orchestration for its effect, as in the willowy solo violin figure used to evoke the narrator in Rimsky-Korsakov’s Sheherazade (1888), the clash of arms in Tchaikovsky’s fantasy overture Romeo and Juliet (1869, rev. 3/1880), countless manifestations of bad weather and surges of a river or the sea.

Mahler and Richard Strauss shared an affinity for minutely detailed, copiously inked scores of broadly Wagnerian approach. Mahler’s work is particularly compelling in its extremes, as in the shrieking cries of the Fifth Symphony (first performed 1904) or, at the other end of the spectrum, the childlike naiveties, such as the use of jingles and the absence of trombones and tuba in the Fourth (first performed 1901). He left a particularly personal stamp in the use of the then dangerously emblematic birdcalls, distant military trumpets and village bands; most memorably, perhaps, with the Frère Jacques/Bruder Martin round begun by double bass and solo bassoon in the darkly comic ‘Hunter’s Funeral Procession’ movement of the First Symphony (first performed 1889). Strauss’s orientation in the tone poems and symphonies is mostly programmatic (e.g. the tittering of Till Eulenspiegel and the majestic pipe-organ climax of Zarathustra’s ascent) and, in the case of the symphonic cowbells and alphorns, occasionally excessive. But whatever their artistic merit, these kinds of passages made possible his orchestral triumph: the unmistakable silver of Der Rosenkavalier (1911), cast by the glockenspiel, high woodwinds and strings, and the three soprano roles, is in many ways an apt summary of the 19th century’s aspirations. By the turn of the century, Debussy had begun the wholesale rethinking of compositional materials that resulted in yet another orchestral identity, one that is profitably compared with the work of the impressionist painters (see §5 below). His techniques constituted the aural equivalent of the fast-changing spectrum of 20th-century thought, and opened up new possibilities for composers just as some had begun to suspect, wrongly, that the riches of the hundred-piece orchestra had been thoroughly mined.

Matters of 19th-century orchestration and its history continue to provide fuel for debate in contemporary performance of that era’s repertory. One question is the degree to which performers should feel welcome to adjust orchestration to account for later mechanical improvements and the changing taste that favoured the ‘big orchestra’ sound. The precedent was set early on, notably with Wagner’s inclination to rescore passages in Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony to achieve better balance. Recordings of the great orchestras and conductors of the latter half of the 20th century suggest that the custom of ‘completing’ natural horn and trumpet parts in the Beethoven symphonies with pitches available on the valved successors continues to be widespread. Where local or inherited performance custom begins to diverge from the best interests of the composition remains a matter for scholarly study and deliberation among historians, players and conductors. These issues were particularly engaged in the recordings of the 1980s and 90s by Roger Norrington, John Eliot Gardiner and other avatars of the performing practice movement. They revealed to many listeners how attention to a composition’s original conditions of orchestral size, layout, mechanics and techniques (along with attention accorded to the composer’s metronome markings) might result in fresh understandings of its context and meaning. At the very least they demonstrate the remarkable evolution of the relationship between the composer and the orchestra that the terms ‘instrumentation’ and ‘orchestration’ attempt to define.

5. Impressionism and later developments.

Perhaps the most original orchestration of the later 19th century is that which can be related to the movement in the visual arts known as Impressionism. Here the colours of the orchestra complement the other aspects of composition on more or less equal terms. Fragments of the sound spectrum are juxtaposed, rather than merely blended, and this may happen even within the compass of a single melody or motif. Without entering into semantics, it is fair to say that this type of scoring gives an impression of its musical object at least as much as Manet's famous Impression does of a sunrise. It is entirely appropriate that many paintings by the Impressionist school were listed in the private collection of Chabrier, who in his kaleidoscopic orchestral pieces, such as España (1883) and Marche joyeuse (1888), provided some of the earliest examples in this manner. Mahler, though generally applying his colours in broader strokes, well knew how to exploit the occasional dab of unexpected timbre, and his scherzos (as in the Fourth Symphony of 1900) often contain sudden and brilliant shifts of colour and texture.

The evolution of tonal harmony at about this time, with its expansion of resources and its loosening of the structural and semantic ties of diatonicism, allowed other aspects of sound, including instrumental colour, a far greater prominence. Composers began to recognize that it was not only the melodic, harmonic and rhythmic features of a musical form that could legitimately claim the listener's prime attention; agogics, dynamics and timbre began to be manipulated more consciously and more prominently. Again the obvious instances provide an apt correlation, for the most strikingly virtuoso handling of these formerly neglected ‘parameters’ is found precisely in the work of those composers most intimately concerned in the dissolution of diatonic harmony, Debussy, Schoenberg, Webern and, in his highly individual way, Busoni.

In the Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune (1894) Debussy showed himself acutely responsive to the sensual properties of instrumental sound; it is hard to study the work's opening bars without seeing in them a refined development of Weber's orchestral thinking. The fine textural distinctions in the string writing achieved by using solos and subdivisions of the groups owe something to Berlioz and Wagner (see the string distributions in Lohengrin, for example), and the application of colour is often frankly impressionistic, but the evocative blends themselves are entirely within the Romantic tradition. Debussy's Nocturnes (1899) were in this respect an important step forward. A sense of melodic, harmonic or rhythmic purpose is entirely absent from the steadily moving chords and wispy arabesques of Nuages; texture and timbre are heavily relied on to convey not merely the required atmosphere but the whole of the composer's intentions. The fading percussion at the close of Fêtes foreshadows many a 20th-century composer's emancipation of ‘noise’ (Milhaud, Stravinsky, Bartók, Varèse, and eventually electronic music). In Sirènes Debussy used the additional colour of a wordless women's chorus, though here it is clearly programmatic – an uncharacteristic ‘literalism’ which obscures appreciation of the voices' timbral qualities. This idea, too, was taken up by later composers, for example by Ravel in Daphnis et Chloé (1912) and by Milhaud in Les choéphores (1915–16) and L’homme et son désir (1918). Debussy's later orchestral works are notable less for their colouristic innovations than for their elaboration of the figurational role of each instrument – an interest which may have come to him from the Russians in general and from Rimsky-Korsakov in particular.

Wagner, Debussy and Mahler seem to have been the predominant influences on the orchestral technique of Schoenberg. In Pelleas und Melisande (1903) and Gurrelieder (1911) the orchestration is both adventurous and ambitious, the latter work bringing into play a multitude of performers. More significantly, it is primarily with Schoenberg's name that the concept of the Klangfarbenmelodie (melody of sound-colours) is associated; in ‘Farben’ (no.3 of Five Orchestral Pieces, 1909) there is a minimum of melodic, harmonic and rhythmic activity, and the interest centres on the alternations and manipulations of blended instrumental colour. The piece is, in other words, a logical successor to Debussy's Nuages. If ‘melody’ is defined as ‘that continuous aspect of music claiming the listener's chief attention’, one can understand both the special application of the term to tone-colour and the peculiar conditions that must be accepted by a composer wishing to replace ‘pitch melody’ by ‘timbre melody’. As was to happen later with dodecaphonic music's avoidance of all diatonic suggestions, in ‘Farben’ Schoenberg could impose his new concept only through a ruthless negation – the withdrawal of anything likely to be construed as a melody of pitches. Webern's view of the matter was more positive; he wanted to integrate the rapid play of colours with existing compositional techniques, whether his own (Five Pieces, 1913; Symphony op.21, 1928) or Bach's (arrangement of Ricercar a 6 voci, 1935).

Although it is sometimes claimed that the 20th century has its own characteristic orchestral constitution – The Rite of Spring has often been cited as paradigmatic – the actual practice of composers has not supported this view, which arises rather from the relative stability of the orchestra's structure as an institution. It owes this stability more to its role in the furtherance of 19th-century music and traditions than to developments in 20th-century orchestral thinking. Composers of conservative inclinations, and especially those working within the symphonic tradition, have hesitated to question conventional norms of orchestral format and balance, their innovations being restricted to the gradual judicious addition of new timbres (further pitched and unpitched percussion instruments, the piano, previously neglected members of woodwind families, and to some extent instruments borrowed from alien cultural forms, such as the military band).

The reversion to Classical and pre-Classical models in 20th-century music led some composers to reduce the scale of their orchestral forces; other factors contributing to this tendency were considerations of economy (notably in the works composed by Stravinsky after 1913) and the exploration of new varieties of orchestral balance. It was the latter that caused Stravinsky to dispense with violins and violas in his Symphony of Psalms (1930), though it is possible to find precedents for this in 19th-century music: violins are not used in Méhul's Uthal (1806) or in Brahms's A major Serenade op.16 (1859), and Fauré's exclusive reliance on lower strings in the first two sections of his Requiem (1887) anticipates Stravinsky's work still more closely.

For many composers the abandonment of Wagnerian orchestral forces was followed by a fundamental redistribution of timbral balance on a far greater scale than the minor adjustments of the Symphony of Psalms. For Stravinsky himself The Rite of Spring (1913) gave way to the wind-dominated Renard (1915) and the pitched percussion sonorities of The Wedding (1923); Webern followed the vast forces of his Six Pieces (1910) with the attenuated solo textures of the Five Pieces (1913), although even in the earlier pieces his instrumentation had already become characteristically rarefied; and Varèse retained little more than the luxuriant percussion department of the immense Amériques (1921) orchestra for his subsequent Hyperprism (1923), paving the way for the exclusively percussive Ionisation of 1931. Arguably Schoenberg had led the way with his scaling-down of the orchestra to a mere 15 solo instruments in the First Chamber Symphony op.9 (1906), where the instrumental writing suggests a debt to Wagner's Siegfried Idyll (1870).

Chamber orchestras became increasingly common in music written during the first decades of the 20th century. Sometimes, as with Schoenberg's work, the smaller ensemble proved a more flexible medium for the articulation of a richer than normal polyphony. Sometimes allusions were intended to the ‘classical’ sonorities of the 18th century. That trend was far from unknown in the 19th century, which had its divertimentos and serenades for wind or strings (Dvořák, Grieg, Gounod), but in the 1920s and thereafter the classicizing tradition became central to the music of Stravinsky, Hindemith, Bartók and many others. Sometimes there might be reference to typical forms of early jazz ensemble (Stravinsky, Copland and Hindemith again provide examples, along with Milhaud and Weill), though more often the instruments were freely selected to make up unprecedented combinations (Varèse, and many works by Ives and Milhaud). In the extreme case of heterodoxy, composers would build their own instruments, as Russolo did, and later Partch. From the 1930s onwards new electronic instruments began occasionally to enter the orchestra, especially the ondes martenot (Honegger, Varèse, Messiaen) and the theremin (often in film music).

The further anti-conventional impetus of the years immediately after 1945 was reflected in a widespread rejection of the symphony orchestra in favour of mixed groups of soloists. This reaction was perhaps fuelled by the evidence of recent history, which indicated a regression by most leading composers – Schoenberg, Stravinsky, Hindemith, Bartók – towards more conservative, even 19th-century, ways of writing for orchestra. For a challenge to that tradition, composers looked back to such works as Schoenberg's Pierrot lunaire (1912), which in some cases offered a direct model in using an ensemble as an effective foil to the voice (Boulez's Le marteau sans maître, 1953–5; Barraqué's Séquence, 1955). Since timbre was now to be treated as a primary musical variable, the instrumentation of a piece began to be seen as essential and unique: that tenet underlay Stockhausen's and Feldman's works of the 1950s and 60s. Paradoxically, however, the foundation of performing groups to play the new repertory resulted in a new kind of conformity, centred on a core of 14 or so soloists representing all the usual orchestral instruments. Ligeti's works show elegant solutions to the severe problems of balancing such a formation.

However, the rejection of larger resources was not complete. Indeed, some orchestras, particularly those affiliated to European broadcasting organizations, positively encouraged experiment in the 1950s, 60s and early 70s. Instrumental groupings might be separated to produce spatial effects, as in Stockhausen's Gruppen (1955–7); earlier works using similar techniques had to wait until this period to be performed complete, for Ives's Fourth Symphony (1910–16) was not heard until 1965, nor Schoenberg's Die Jakobsleiter (1917–22) until 1961. Other possibilities included electronic transformation of instrumental sound (Stockhausen's Mixtur, 1964), alteration to the norms of orchestral placement (Boulez, Berio, Barraqué, Brant, Nono), movement of soloists on stage (Boulez, Musgrave), presentation of the orchestra as theatrical spectacle (Birtwistle, Stockhausen, Kagel), introduction of ancient, exotic or fringe instruments (Kagel, or, in a spirit more of local colour, Henze and Takemitsu), addition of electronic music on tape (Nono, Boulez, Babbitt), use of quarter-tones (Nono), addition of voices (Stockhausen, Berio) and re-centring the orchestra on wind and percussion (Messiaen, Birtwistle, Reich). Even in works for relatively conventional forces, these last three composers tended to conceive of the orchestra as a group of distinct choirs, rather as Stravinsky had done in works from The Rite of Spring to Agon, and so to maintain a tradition of block-style orchestration quite contrary to 19th-century practice.

No less powerful a condition of late 20th-century orchestration was, however, continued adherence to 19th-century models as exemplified in the works of latter-day symphonists (Henze, Davies, Schnittke), and from the 1970s onwards, in the music of less conventional composers (Berio, Feldman). Meanwhile those composers such as Stockhausen, who had little concern to integrate themselves within normal concert life, moved right away from the orchestra. This change, which made the orchestra again an essentially traditional institution, was precipitated in part by an increasing need for economy, since unconventional orchestration normally requires extra players and extra rehearsal time. Radical innovation in the 1980s and 90s was maintained mainly by smaller ensembles, and only where funding was still generous (as at Boulez's research institution, IRCAM, which fostered a large repertory of works with computer-controlled electronic transformation) or else when a prominent composer could command the resources of several ensembles (e.g. Reich's City Life, with urban sounds reproduced on samplers). Against the tide, Lachenmann, Holliger and some other composers have continued to expand orchestral resources by exploiting unconventional instrumental techniques. Composers such as Berio, Boulez, Knussen and Benjamin have also found the standard orchestra to be a continuing source of new sonorities and an abiding vehicle for creative virtuosity.

6. Popular musical theatre.

Orchestration for American musical theatre in the 20th century grew, like the form itself, from both European-style operetta and popular theatre such as vaudeville. The former derivation used a reduced version of a ‘legitimate’ orchestra; the latter, a flexible scoring capable of rendering the new vernacular rhythms. Early masters of the two styles were respectively Victor Herbert (Babes in Toyland, 1903; Naughty Marietta, 1910) and Frank Saddler (Very Good Eddie, 1915; Oh, Boy!, 1917).

The 1920s and 30s saw the consolidation of the rhythm section – piano, drums, bass, occasionally guitar (as in jazz bands, which in fact were sometimes hired by name for theatre pits: e.g. the Red Nichols band for Gershwin's Girl Crazy, orch. Bennett, 1930) – as a foundation for the orchestra for jazz or dance shows. Such shows also employed saxophones (usually doubled by the clarinettists), unlike the operetta-style musicals. The two formats were of course often mixed and modified. In the course of maintaining a busy schedule, the best orchestrators (Saddler, Robert Russell Bennett, Hans Spialek) learned to utilize their players' special abilities. Woodwind players eventually had to double on more instruments, and not just those of like family: there was for a time a vogue for bass oboe, even oboe d'amore (both used in Oklahoma!, orch. Bennett, 1943), as well as alto flute and basset-horn. Two-piano teams, a popular attraction of the time, participated in the theatre as well; Kern's The Cat and the Fiddle (orch. Bennett, 1931) had three. Violas, their stereotypical ‘oompahs’ absorbed by the rhythm section, were (and are) sometimes omitted altogether; at other times, particularly in the absence of a piano, a second desk of violas was added to provide a more audible beat and a solid middle range.

With orchestrators' credits featuring more prominently in the playbills of the 1940s, each production began to seek more of an individual sound. This was the era when Bennett created a consistent sound for the big Rodgers and Hammerstein shows using non-doubling ‘operetta’ woodwind, harp and no piano, which he (with Philip J. Lang) continued to exploit into the 1950s for Lerner and Loewe as well. Ted Royal (Brigadoon, 1947) and Hershy Kay were important new names during this period, while Spialek (Babes in Arms, 1937; The Boys From Syracuse, 1938) withdrew from Broadway, to return for the revival of Rodgers and Hart's On Your Toes in 1983. The late 1950s marked the end to this approach as the doubling reed section became universal and newer voices in orchestration brought new sounds into the pit: notably Sid Ramin, Irwin Kostal (both of whom orchestrated West Side Story, 1957, to Bernstein's specifications), Ralph Burns, Eddie Sauter and Robert Ginzler. Ginzler, in particular, had his trademark sounds, such as high-pitched close harmony in the woodwind (Bye Bye Birdie, 1960; How to Succeed in Business without Really Trying, 1961). More and more, unique orchestral complements were tried: no string section (No Strings, R. Rodgers, orch. Burns, 1962); no upper strings (110 in the Shade, H. Schmidt, orch. Kay, 1963; Anyone can Whistle, S. Sondheim, orch. Walker, 1964); and special timbres such as the lute, cimbalom, accordion, double bassoon or harmonica.

As amplification gradually became universal it affected the sound of theatre orchestration, despite orchestrators' general determination to maintain an acoustically valid balance: vocal projection became less crucial, and the newer popular sounds affected scoring. A pioneer in this respect was the orchestration for Promises, Promises (B. Bacharach, 1968), with its studio-style use of microphones and rebalancing of the pit. This was the work of Jonathan Tunick, who came to be particularly associated with Stephen Sondheim, having orchestrated most of his works since 1970. From the 70s onwards, theatre orchestration has been characterized by the trend towards smaller and smaller orchestras, and the increased use of electronic instruments (including synthesizers, not only for distinctive colour but to replace absent instruments). Other orchestrators who have come to prominence during this period include William David Brohn (The Secret Garden, 1991; Ragtime, 1996), Billy Byers (City of Angels, 1989), Michael Gibson (My One and Only, 1983; Kiss of the Spider Woman, 1990) and Michael Starobin (Sunday in the Park with George, 1984). Outside the opera house the full orchestrations of earlier times are now heard mostly in special circumstances, such as concerts devoted to restoration and preservation.

1. Introduction: the classification system of Hornbostel and Sachs.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

A General. B Medieval and Renaissance. C Baroque. D Classical. E 19th century. F Impressionism and later development. G Musical theatre.

a: general

E. Prout: Instrumentation (London, 1876/R)

C. Forsyth: Orchestration (London, 1914, 2/1935/R)

A. Carse: The History of Orchestration (London, 1925/R)

G. Pierné and H. Woollett: ‘Histoire de l'orchestration’, EMDC, II/iv (1929), 2215–86

R. Nettel: The Orchestra in England: a Social History (London, 1946, ?4/1972)

G. Read: Thesaurus of Orchestral Devices (New York, 1953/R)

W. Piston: Orchestration (New York, 1955)

b: medieval and renaissance

C. Sachs: ‘Die Besetzung dreistimmiger Werke um das Jahr 1500’, ZMw, xi (1928–9), 386–9

E.A. Bowles: ‘Musical Instruments at the Medieval Banquet’, RBM, xii (1958), 41–51

H. Besseler: ‘Umgangsmusik und Darbietungsmusik im 16. Jahrhundert’, AMw, xvi (1959), 21–43

R. Clemencic: ‘Die Verwendung von Instrumenten in der Aufführungspraxis mehrstimmiger Musik zur Zeit Dantes’, Chigiana, new ser., ii (1965), 171–84

F.Ll. Harrison: ‘Tradition and Innovation in Instrumental Usage 1100–1450’, Aspects of Medieval and Renaissance Music: a Birthday Offering to Gustave Reese, ed. J. LaRue and others (New York, 1966/R), 319–35

K. Polk: ‘Wind Bands of Medieval Flemish Cities’, BWQ, i (1966–8), 93–113

K. Polk: ‘Municipal Wind Music in Flanders in the Late Middle Ages’, BWQ, ii (1969), 1–15

H.M. Brown: Sixteenth-Century Instrumentation: the Music for the Florentine Intermedii, MSD, xxx (1973)

H.M. Brown: ‘A Cook's Tour of Ferrara in 1529’, RIM, x (1975), 216–41

H.M. Brown: ‘Instruments and Voices in the Fifteenth-Century Chanson’, Current Thought in Musicology, ed. J.W. Grubbs (Austin, 1976), 89–137

S. Boorman, ed: Studies in the Performance of Late Mediaeval Music (Cambridge, 1983)

L. Welker: ‘“Alta capella”: zur Ensemblepraxis der Blasinstrumente im 15. Jahrhundert’, Basler Jb für historische Musikpraxis, vii (1983), 119–65

D. Fallows: ‘The Performing Ensembles of Josquin's Sacred Music’, TVNM, xxxv (1985), 32–64

S. Huot: ‘Voices and Instruments in Medieval French Secular Music: on the Use of Literary Texts as Evidence for Performance Practice’, MD, xliii (1989), 63–113

K. Polk: ‘Augustein Schubinger and the Zinck: Innovation in Performance Practice’, HBSJ, i (1989), 83–92

K. Polk: ‘The Trombone, the Slide Trumpet and the Ensemble Tradition of the Early Renaissance’, EMc, xvii (1989), 389–97

K. Polk: ‘Vedel und Geige – Fiddle and Viol: German String Traditions in the Fifteenth Century’, JAMS, xlii (1989), 504–46

S. Bonta: ‘The Use of Instruments in Sacred Music in Italy 1560–1700’, EMc, xviii (1990), 519–35

L. Korrick: ‘Instrumental Music in the Early 16th-Century Mass: New Evidence’, EMc, xviii (1990), 359–70

K. Polk: ‘Voices and Instruments: Soloists and Ensembles in the 15th Century’, EMc, xviii (1990), 179–98

D.J. Shaw: ‘A Five Piece Wind Band in 1518’, GSJ, xliii (1990), 60–67

Le concert des voix et des instruments à la Renaissance: Tours 1991

L.M. Earp: ‘Texting in 15th-Century French Chansons: a Look Ahead from the 14th Century’, EMc, xix (1991), 194–210

D. Slavin: ‘In Support of “Heresy”: Manuscript Evidence for the a cappella Performance of Early 15th-Century Songs’, EMc, xix (1991), 178–90

S. Bonta: ‘The Use of Instruments in the Ensemble Canzona and Sonata in Italy, 1580–1650’, Recercare, iv (1992), 23–43

S. Keyl: ‘Tenorlied, Discantlied, Polyphonic Lied: Voices and Instruments in German Secular Polyphony of the Renaissance’, EMc, xx (1992), 434–45

T. Knighton and D. Fallows, eds.: Companion to Medieval and Renaissance Music (London, 1992)

K. Kreitner: ‘Minstrels in Spanish Churches, 1400–1600’, EMc, xx (1992), 533–46

K. Polk: German Instrumental Music of the Late Middle Ages: Players, Patrons, and Performance Practice (Cambridge, 1992)

c: baroque

MGG1(‘Orchester’, §B; H. Becker)

A. Agazzari: Del sonare sopra 'l basso con tutti li stromenti e dell'uso loro nel conserto (Siena, 1607/R, 2/1608 in Sacrarum cantionum; Eng. trans. in StrunkSR1); ed. V. Gibelli (Milan, 1979)

G. Muffat: Preface to Florilegium secundum (Passau, 1698; ed. in DTÖ, iv, Jg.2/ii, 1895/R)

J. Mattheson: Das neu-Eröffnete Orchestre (Hamburg, 1713/R)

J. Mattheson: Das forschende Orchestre (Hamburg, 1721/R)

G.P. Telemann: Harmonische Gottes-Dienst (Hamburg, 1725–6)

J.-J. Rousseau: Dictionnaire de musique (Paris, 1768/R; Eng. trans., 1771, 2/1779/R)

L. Torchi: ‘L'accompagnamento degl'instrumenti nei melodrammi italiani della prima metà del seicento’, RMI, i (1894), 7–38; ii (1895), 666–71

W. Kleefeld: ‘Das Orchester der Hamburger Oper 1678–1738’, SIMG, i (1899–1900), 219–89

K. Nef: ‘Zur Instrumentation im 17. Jahrhunderts’, JbMP 1928, 33–42

C.S. Terry: Bach's Orchestra (London, 1932/R)

A. Carse: The Orchestra in the XVIIIth Century (Cambridge, 1940/R)

N. Fortune: ‘Giustiniani on Instruments’, GSJ, v (1952), 48–54

S.T. Worsthorne: Venetian Opera in the Seventeenth Century (Oxford, 1954/R)

D. Arnold: ‘Brass Instruments in Italian Church Music of the Sixteenth and Early Seventeenth Centuries’, Brass Quarterly, i (1957–8), 81–92

D.D. Boyden: ‘Monteverdi's violini piccoli alla francese and viole di brazzo’, AnnM, vi (1958–63), 387–402

N. Broder: ‘The Beginnings of the Orchestra’, JAMS, xiii (1960), 174–80

R.T. Dart: ‘Performance Practice in the 17th and 18th Centuries: Six Problems in Instrumental Music’, IMSCR VIII: New York 1961, 231–5

J. Eppelsheim: Das Orchester in den Werken Jean-Baptiste Lullys (Tutzing, 1961)

D. Arnold: ‘“L'incoronazione di Poppea” and its Orchestral Requirements’, MT, civ (1963), 176–8

R. Brockpähler: Handbuch zur Geschichte der Barockoper in Deutschland (Emsdetten, 1964)

A.D. McCredie: Instrumentarium and Instrumentation in the North German Baroque Operas (diss., U. of Hamburg, 1964)

G. Rose: ‘Agazzari and the Improvising Orchestra’, JAMS, xviii (1965), 382–93

D. Arnold: ‘Orchestras in Eighteenth-Century Venice’, GSJ, xix (1966), 3–19

S.H. Hansell: ‘Orchestral Practices at the Court of Cardinal Pietro Ottoboni’, JAMS, xix (1966), 398–403

J.E. Beat: ‘Monteverdi and the Opera Orchestra of his Time’, Monteverdi Companion, ed. D. Arnold and N. Fortune (London, 1968, 2/1985 as The New Monteverdi Companion), 277–301

O. Jander: ‘Concerto Grosso Instruments in Rome in the 1660s and 1670s’, JAMS, xxi (1968), 168–80

H.J. Marx: ‘Die Musik am Hofe Pietro Kardinal Ottobonis unter Archangelo Corelli’, AnMc, v (1968), 104–77

P.L. Ciurczak: The Trumpet in Baroque Opera: its Use as a Solo Obbligato and Ensemble Instrument (diss., U. of North Texas, 1974)

W. Schrammek: ‘Viola pomposa und Violoncello piccolo bei Johann Sebastian Bach’, Internationales Bach-Fest III: Leipzig 1975, 345–54

E.H. Tarr and T. Walker: ‘Bellici carmi, festivo fragor: die Verwendung der Trompete in der italienischen Oper des 17. Jahrhunderts’, HJbMw, iii (1978), 143–203

L. Dreyfus: Bach's Continuo Group: Players and Practices in his Vocal Works (Cambridge, MA, 1987)

E. Selfridge-Field: ‘Italian Oratorio and the Baroque Orchestra’, EMc, xvi (1988), 506–13

M. Térey-Smith: ‘Orchestral Practice in the Paris Opera (1690–1764), and the Spread of French Influence in Europe’, SMH, xxxi (1989), 81–159

C. Price, ed.: The Early Baroque Era: from the Late 16th Century to the 1660s (Basingstoke, 1994)

d: classical

W.H. Reese: Grundsätze und Entwicklung der Instrumentation in der vorklassischen und klassischen Sinfonie (Gräfenhainichen, 1939)

P. Cahn: ‘Zur Funktion der Hörner und Trompeten im klassischen Orchestersatz’, Helmut Osthoff zu seinem seibzigsten Geburtstag, ed. W. Stauder, U. Aarburg and P. Cahn (Tutzing, 1969), 179–208

J.H. van der Meer: ‘Die Verwendung der Blasinstrumente im Orchester bei Haydn und seine Zeitgenossen’, Der junge Haydn: Graz 1970, 202–20

D. Charlton: Orchestration and Orchestral Practice in Paris, 1789 to 1810 (diss., U. of Cambridge, 1974)

P. Bryan: ‘The Horn in the Works of Mozart and Haydn’, Haydn Yearbook 1975, 189–255

D. Charlton: ‘Orchestra and Image in the Late Eighteenth Century’, PRMA, cii (1975–6), 1–12

C. Wolff: ‘Aspects of Instrumentation in Mozart's Orchestral Music’, L'interprétation de la musique classique de Haydn à Schubert: Evry 1977, 37–43

I. Eisley: ‘Mozart's Concertato Orchestra’, Mozart-Jb 1978, 9–20

U. Toeplitz: Die Holzbläser in der Musik Mozarts und ihr Verhältnis zur Tonartwahl (diss., Tel-Aviv U., 1978)

M. Flothuis: ‘Die Instrumentation der “Londoner” Sinfonien’, Joseph Haydn: Cologne 1982, 183–9

D. Guion: ‘The Instrumentation of Operas Published in France in the 18th Century’, JMR, iv (1982), 115–43

H. Unverricht: ‘Die Instrumentationsangaben von (Franz) Joseph Fröhlich in Würzburg: ein Beitrag zur Instrumentationslehre zur Zeit der Wiener Klassik’, Festschrift Heinz Becker, ed. J. Schläder and R. Quandt (Laaber, 1982), 351–7

W. Witzenmann: ‘Grundzüge der Instrumentation in italienischen Opern von 1770 bis 1830’, AnMc, xxi (1982), 276–332

N.L. Orr: ‘The Effect of Scoring on the “Sonata-Form” in Mozart's Mature Instrumental Ensembles’, College Music Symposium, xxiii/2 (1983), 46–83

S. Gerlach: ‘Haydns Orchesterpartituren: Fragen der Realisierung des Textes’, Haydn-Studien, v/3 (1984), 169–83

E. Weimer: Opera seria and the Evolution of the Classical Style, 1755–1772 (Ann Arbor, 1984)

G. Schroder: ‘Uber das “klassische Orchester” und Haydns späte symphonische Instrumentation’, Joseph Haydn, Musik-Konzepte, no.41 (1985), 79–97

R. Weikl: Zur Instrumentation in Mozarts Klavierkonzerten (diss., U. of Salzburg, 1985)

P. Rossini: ‘Gli strumenti della drammaturgia gluckiana: orchestra, coro, danza’, Christoph Willibald Gluck nel 200^o anniversario della morte, ed. G. Carli Ballola (Parma, 1987), 475–96

J. Webster: ‘On the Absence of Keyboard Continuo in Haydn's Symphonies’, EMc, xviii (1990), 599–608

C. Goertzen: ‘Compromises in Orchestration in Mozart's Coronation Concerto’, MQ, lxxv (1991), 148–73

S. Henze-Dohring: ‘Orchester und Orchestersatz in Christian Cannabichs Mannheimer Sinfonien’, Mozart und Mannheim: Mannheim 1991, 257–71

N. Zaslaw: ‘Mozart's Orchestral Flutes and Oboes’, Mozart Studies, ed. C. Eisen (Oxford, 1991), 201–11

J.K. Page: Wind Instruments in the Music of Joseph Haydn, 1785–1798: Studies in Orchestration, Compositional Process, and Musical Structure (diss., Duke U., 1993)

W. Witzenmann: ‘Zur Instrumentation in Mozarts Opernorchester: ein Vergleich mit neapolitanischen Komponisten’, Napoli e il teatro musicale in Europe tra Sette e Ottocento: studi in onore di Friedrich Lippmann, ed. B.M. Antolini and W. Witzenmann (Florence, 1993), 207–33

C. Eisen: ‘The Scoring of the Orchestral Bass Part in Mozart's Salzburg Keyboard Concertos: the Evidence of the Authentic Copies’, Mozart's Piano Concertos: Text, Context, Interpretation, ed. N. Zaslaw (Ann Arbor, 1996), 411–25

B. Perl: ‘Von der Sinfonie zu Sinfonia: zu Mozart's früher Instrumentierungskunst’, Mozart-Jb 1996, 53–64

e: 19th century

J.G. Kastner: Traité général d'instrumentation (Paris, 1837, suppl. 1844)

J.G. Kastner: Cours d'instrumentation considéré sous les rapports poétiques et philosophiques de l’art (Paris, 1839, 2/1839; suppl. 1844)

H. Berlioz: Grand traité d'instrumentation et d'orchestration modernes (Paris, 1843, 2/1855/R; Eng. trans., 1856, rev. 2/1882/R by J. Bennet)

F.-A. Gevaert: Traité général d'instrumentation (Ghent, 1863)

G. Pilotti: Breve insegnamento teorico … di scrivere per tutti gli strumenti d'orchestra (Milan, [1875])

W.H. Monk: ‘On some Points in the Received Method of Writing an Orchestral Score’, PMA, ii (1875–6), 58–66

H. Lavoix: Histoire de l'instrumentation depuis le seizième siècle jusqu'à nos jours (Paris, 1878)

F.-A. Gevaert: Nouveau traité d'instrumentation (Paris, 1885)

F.-A. Gevaert: Cours méthodique d'orchestration (Paris, 1890)

C. Maclean: ‘On some Causes of the Changes of Tone-Colour Proceeding in the Most Modern Orchestra’, PMA, xxi (1894–5), 77–102

F. Corder: The Orchestra and How to Write for it: a Practical Guide (London, 1896, 6/1923)

B. Bazala: Die Grundzeuge der Orchestrierung von Berlioz bis zu Richard Strauss (diss., U. of Leipzig, 1943)

H.J. Macdonald: ‘Berlioz's Orchestration: Human or Divine?’, MT, cx (1969), 255–8

C.B. Wilson: Berlioz' Use of Brass Instruments (diss., Case Western Reserve U., Cleveland, 1971)

f: impressionism and later development

H. Riemann: Katechismus der Orchestrierung (Anleitung zum Instrumentieren) (Leipzig, 1902, 5/1921 as Handbuch der Orchestrierung; Eng. trans., [1906])

C.M. Widor: Technique de l'orchestre moderne(Paris, 1904, enlarged, 5/1925; Eng. trans., 1905, 2/1946)

H.P. Allen: ‘Some Considerations of the Effect of Orchestral Colour upon Design and Texture in Musical Composition’, PMA, xxxv (1908–9), 109–21

H. Erpf: ‘Grundfragen der neueren Instrumentation’, Melos, iv (1924–5), 523–34

E. Evans: Method of Instrumentation (London, 1925–7)

E. Wellesz: Die Neue Instrumentation (Berlin, 1928–9)

G. Jacob: Orchestral Technique (London, 1931, 3/1982)

A.F. Marescotti: ‘Nouveaux principes d'orchestration’, SMz, xci (1951), 103–6

C. Koechlin: Traité de l'orchestration (Paris, 1954–9)

H.C. Wolff: ‘Von der spätromantische zur modernen Instrumentation’, Das Musikleben, vii (1954), 341

S. Borris: ‘Neue Blaserklangstrukturen im 20. Jahrhundert’, Musik und Bildung, v (1973), 357–67

G. Read: Contemporary Instrumental Techniques (New York, 1976)

E. Brixel: ‘Instrumentierung und Instrumentation aus der Sicht der österreichischen Blasmusikpraxis unserer Zeit’, Johann Joseph Fux und die barocke Bläsertradition: Graz 1985, 235–52

W. Giselher, L. Lombardi and R.-D. Weyer: Instrumentation in der Musik des 20. Jahrhunderts: Akustik, Instrumente, Zusammenwirken (Celle, 1985)

g: musical theatre

R.R. Bennett: ‘Orchestration of Theatre and Dance Music’, Music Lovers' Encyclopedia, ed. D. Taylor and R. Kerr (Garden City, NY, 1939, 3/1950), 780–86

F.M. Collinson: Orchestration for the Theatre (London, 1941/R)

R.R. Bennett: Instrumentally Speaking (Melville, NY, 1975)

A. Parrent: ‘From The Beggar's Opera to Sweeney Todd: the Art of the Broadway Orchestrator’, Music Educators Journal, lxvi/9 (1979–80), 32–7

L. Winer: ‘Orchestrators are Tired of Playing Second Fiddle’, New York Times (29 July 1990)

J.A. Conrad: ‘Let the Drums Roll Out’, Strike Up the Band, Elektra Nonesuch 79237 (1991) [disc notes]

G.J. Ferencz, ed.: The Broadway Sound: The Autobiography and Selected Essays of Robert Russell Bennett (Rochester NY, 1999)

Instrumentenkunde

(Ger.).

See Organology.

Instrumentos de madera

(Sp.).

See Woodwind instruments.

Instruments, classification of.

2. Precursors.

3. Extensions.

4. Other 20th-century approaches.

5. The study of classification systems.

Instruments, classification of

APPENDIX

introduction to the hornbostel-sachs classification system

Treatises on systems of classification are by and large of uncertain value. The material to be classified, whatever it may be, came into existence without any such system, and grows and changes without reference to any conceptual scheme. The objects to be classified are alive and dynamic, indifferent to sharp demarcation and set form, while systems are static and depend upon sharply drawn demarcations and categories.

These considerations bring special difficulties to the classifier, though also an attractive challenge: his aim must be to develop and refine his concepts so that they better and better fit the reality of his material, sharpen his perception, and enable him to place a specific case in the scheme quickly and securely.

A systematic arrangement for musical instruments concerns first of all musicologists, ethnologists, and curators of ethnological collections and those of cultural history. Systematic arrangement and terminology are urgently needed, however, not only for collections of material, but also for their study and in its interpretation. He who refers to a musical instrument by any name or description he pleases, being unaware of the points which matter, will cause more confusion than if he had left it altogether unnoticed. In common speech technical terms are greatly muddled, as when the same instrument may be indiscriminately called a lute, guitar, mandoline or banjo. Nicknames and popular etymology also mislead the uninitiated: the German Maultrommel is not a drum, nor the English jew’s (properly ‘jaw’s’) harp a harp, nor the Swedish munngiga a geige (‘fiddle’), nor the Flemish tromp a trumpet; only the Russians are correct when they call this same instrument, a plucked lamella, by the uncommitted term vargan (from Greek organon, ‘instrument’). Homonyms are no less dangerous than synonyms: the word ‘marimba’, for instance, denotes in the Congo the set of lamellae usually called ‘sanza’, but elsewhere it denotes a xylophone. Ethnological literature teems with ambiguous or misleading terms for instruments, and in museums, where the field-collector’s report has the last say, the most senseless terms may be perpetuated on the labels. Correct description and nomenclature depend upon knowledge of the most essential criteria for the various types – a condition which, as a visit to a museum will show, is hardly ever met. One will find, for instance, that oboes, even when still in the possession of the double reed which unmistakably proclaims them for what they are, are noted as flutes, or at best as clarinets; and should the oboe have a brass bell one may be certain of the label ‘trumpet’.

A system of classification has theoretical advantages as well as practical uses. Objects which otherwise appear to be quite unrelated to each other may now become associated, revealing new genetic and cultural links. Herein will always be found the leading test of the validity of the criteria upon which the system is based.

The difficulties which an acceptable system of classification must surmount are very great, since that which suits one era or nation may be unsuitable as a foundation for the instrumental armoury of all nations and all times. Thus the ancient Chinese based their classification on material, distinguishing between instruments made of stone, metal, wood, gourd, bamboo, hide and silk; consequently, to them, trumpets and gongs, stone harmonicas and marble flutes, shawms and clappers, each belonged together.

Our own present-day practice does not amount to much more. Sound-instruments are divided into three major categories: string instruments, wind instruments and percussion instruments. This cannot be defended even on the grounds that it satisfies day-to-day requirements. A large number of instruments cannot be fitted into any of the three groups without placing them in an unnatural position, like the celesta, which, as a percussion instrument, is brought into close proximity to drums and so on. As a remedy one introduces a fourth group under the disconcerting heading ‘miscellaneous’ – in any systematic grouping an admission of defeat. Moreover, the current classification is not only inadequate, but also illogical. The first requirement of a classificatory system is surely that the principle of demarcation remains the same throughout for the main categories. Our customary divisions, however, follow two different principles, string instruments being distinguished by the nature of the vibrating substance but wind and percussion by the mode of sound-excitation – ignoring the fact that there are string instruments which are blown, like the Aeolian harp, or struck, like the pianoforte. The customary subdivisions are no better. Wind instruments are divided into woodwind and brass, thus giving a subordinate criterion of differentiation, namely, material, an unjustifiable predominance and flagrantly disregarding the fact that many ‘brass’ instruments are or were once made of wood, like cornetts, serpents and bass horns, and that in any case many ‘woodwind instruments’ are optionally or invariably made of metal, as flutes, clarinets, saxophones, sarrusophones, tritonicons etc.

The objections which can be raised against the crudity of the customary divisions are now familiar to organology (Instrumentenkunde), and in recent decades scholars have made more than one attempt to attain something more satisfactory. Leaving aside classifications which have owed their structure to the peculiarities of this or that collection, catalogues have latterly in general adopted a system which Victor Mahillon has used since 1888 for his comprehensive catalogue of the Museum of the Brussels Conservatory.

Mahillon takes the nature of the vibrating body as his first principle of division, and thus distinguishes between instruments (1) whose material is sufficiently rigid and at the same time sufficiently elastic to undergo periodic vibration, and named by him ‘self-sounding instruments’ (instruments autophones; for reasons which Sachs has explained in his Reallexikon der Musikinstrumente, Berlin, 1913, p.195a, we prefer the term idiophones); (2) in which sound waves are excited through the agency of tightly stretched membranes; (3) in which strings vibrate; and lastly (4) in which a column of air vibrates. Thus he distinguishes four categories: self-sounders, membrane instruments, string and wind instruments. Besides the uniformity of its principle of division, the system has the great advantage in that it is capable of absorbing almost the whole range of ancient and modern, European and extra-European instruments.

Mahillon’s system of four classes deserves the highest praise; not only does it meet the demands of logic, but also it provides those who use it with a tool which is simple and proof against subjective preferences. Moreover, it is not so far removed from previously used divisions as to offend well-established custom.

It has seemed to us, however, that the four-class system stands in pressing need of development in fresh directions. Mahillon started on the basis of the instruments of the modern orchestra, with which, as an instrument manufacturer and musician, he was in closest contact, and it was these which gave him the initial challenge to work out his system. Then, as the collections of the Brussels museum grew under his direction, he explored over years of relentless effort the limitless field of European and exotic organology. Inevitably a newly acquired specimen would now and then fail to fit into the system, while certain subdivisions which figure importantly among European instruments – e.g. those of keyboard and mechanical instruments – assumed an unwarrantably prominent place. Mahillon had indeed been led, for the sake of the European instruments, to juxtapose categories which did not logically build a uniform concept. Thus he divided the wind instruments into four branches, (1) reed instruments (instruments à anche), (2) mouth-hole instruments (instruments à bouche), (3) polyphone instruments with air reservoir and (4) cup-mouthpiece instruments (instruments à embouchure). Consider too the drums, which he grouped as frame drums, vessel drums and double-skin drums; he consequently divided the skin drums corresponding to our side- and kettledrums – and likewise the autophones – into instruments of untuned pitch (instruments bruyants) and those of tuned pitch (àintonation déterminée). This is an awkward distinction, since a wide range of transitional sounds occurs between pure noises and noise-free tones; indeed, save for a few laboratory instruments, there are no sound-producers that can truly be said to yield either pure noise or pure tones, the sounds of all the usual musical instruments being more or less wrapped in noise. Mahillon later seems to have sensed this when he contrasted noise-instruments with those à intonation nettement or intentionellement déterminée; but the criterion is subjective and as a rule incapable of proof.

In general, Mahillon was right to subdivide the four main classes into ‘branches’ differentiated by playing action. Yet for string instruments it was a dubious procedure; a violin remains a violin whether one bows it with a bow, plays it pizzicato with the fingers, or strikes it col legno. Perhaps this seems a lopsided argument, since the violin is, after all, designed to be bowed. But there are other instances. One could cite instruments whose playing action has changed in the course of time but whose form has remained unaltered. This was the case, for example, with the ancient Celtic crowd [crwth], which can be proved to have been plucked in the earliest times, but which came to be bowed in the High Middle Ages: should the history of instruments therefore deal with it half in a chapter on plucked string instruments and half in one on bowed, although the instrument itself remains just the same? Then there is the psaltery, which is turned into a dulcimer (Hackbrett) when the player uses beaters; should one, in a collection, separate the psalteries, otherwise indistinguishable from each other, into two groups on the grounds that in one country of origin it was customary to pluck it but in another to beat it? Should I place the clavichord and the pianoforte side by side but house the harpsichord with the guitars because its strings are plucked?

All these considerations have persuaded us to undertake afresh the attempt to classify musical instruments. We were fortunate in having at our disposal as a ready-made base the large and extensively described collections of the Brussels museum out of which Mahillon’s system had grown. At the same time we are aware that with increasing knowledge, especially of extra-European forms, new difficulties in the way of a consistent classification will constantly arise. It would thus seem impossible to plan a system today which would not require future development and amendment.

Like Mahillon, we accept the physical characteristics of sound-production as the most important principle of division; but even at this point considerable difficulties are met since acoustic physics has so far covered but the smallest fraction of the preliminary investigations. Thus inadequate research has yet been undertaken on the sound-production of the bullroarer, the vibratory manner in north-west American ‘ribbon-reeds’, the vibration events in bells, gongs, kettledrums, plucked drums, and wind instruments with free reeds and finger-holes. To such difficulties must be added others arising from the morphology of instruments. The problem of defining the term ‘frame drum’ (tamburin) for example, is scarcely capable of satisfactory solution; undoubtedly the typical frame drum represents a concise concept not to be disregarded in any classificatory system, but the transition between this and the pronouncedly tubular drum occurs without a break, often making it impossible to decide on the basis of shape whether a specimen belongs to the one kind or to the other.

Other obstacles in the path of the classifier are instruments showing adulterations between types (Kontaminationen). The fact of adulteration should be accounted for by placing such instruments in two (or more) groups. In museums and catalogues these cases will be arranged according to the dominant characteristic, but cross-references to other characteristics should not be omitted. Thus, among instruments of every class one may find rattling devices which belong to the inventory of idiophones – a feature which cannot be taken into account when placing the instrument in the classification. But where the adulteration has led to an enduring morphological entity – as when kettledrum and musical bow combine in a spike lute – it must have a place of its own within the system.

We must refrain from arguing our subdivisions in detail. Whosoever will check these critically, or test them in practice, will doubtless repeat the lines of thought which are not set out here, with minor variations of his own.

In classifications it is often customary to indicate the ranking of divisions within the system by means of specific headings, as especially in zoology and botany with expressions like class, order, family, genus, species, variant. In the study of instruments, Mahillon himself felt this need and met it by introducing the terms classe, branche, section, sous-section; on Gevaert’s advice he refrained from using the term ‘family’ on account of its widely known use for instruments of like design but of different sizes and pitches.

We consider it inadvisable to maintain consistent headings throughout all rubrics for the following reasons. The number of subdivisions is too big to manage without bringing in a petty superfluity of headings. Moreover, in any system one must leave room for further division to meet special cases, with the result that the number of subdivisions could for ever increase. We have purposely not divided the different main groups according to one uniform principle, but have let the principle of division be dictated by the nature of the group concerned, so that ranks of a given position within a group may not always correspond between one group and another. Thus terms like ‘species’ may refer in one case to a very general concept but in another to a highly specialized one. We therefore propose that the general typological headings be restricted to the topmost main groups, though one could, like Mahillon, speak of the four main groups as classes, of the next divisions (with a two-unit symbol [zweiziffrig]) as sub-classes, the next (three-unit) as orders, and the next (four-unit) as sub-orders.

We have refrained from providing a subdivision containing no known existing representative, save in cases where a composite type may be assumed to have had a precursor in a simpler type now extinct. Thus it can be assumed from analogy with numerous types that Man rubbed a solid, smooth block of wood with the moist hand before he ever carved a series of differently pitched tongues by cutting notches into the block, as in the friction block of New Ireland. Again, where the wealth of forms is exceptionally vast, as with rattles, only the more general aspects of their classification can be outlined in the scheme, and these will certainly require further elaboration.

In general we have tried to base our subdivisions only on those features which can be identified from the visible form of the instrument, avoiding subjective preferences and leaving the instrument itself unmeddled with. Here one has had to consider the needs not only of museum curators but also of field workers and ethnologists. We have carried the subdivisions as far as seemed important for the observation of cultural history and detail, though the plan of the whole classification makes possible its application to the material either summarily or in great detail as desired; general treatises and smaller collections may not require to follow our classification to its last terms, while specialist monographs and catalogues of large museums may well wish to extend it in further detail.

The application of our findings in describing and cataloguing is substantially facilitated by use of the Dewey numerical system (since the numerical arrangement for the Bibliographie Internationale of musical instruments applies only to European instruments, and is anyhow as inadequate as can be, we have planned our own numerical order independently). If those in charge of large collections who issue catalogues in the future decide to accept our numerical arrangement, it will become possible to find out at first glance whether a given type of instrument is represented in the collection.

The ingenuity of Dewey’s idea lies in the exclusive use of figures, replacing the more usual conglomeration of numbers, letters and double letters by decimal fractions. These are so used that every further subdivision is indicated by adding a new figure to the right-hand end of the row; the zero before the decimal point being always omitted. Thus it becomes possible not only to pursue specification to whatever limits one desires and with never any trouble in the manipulation of the numbers, but also directly to recognize from the position of its last figure the ranking of a given term with the system.

It is also feasible in a row of numbers to divide off any set of figures by points. Say, for example, that it is a bell chime (Glockenspiel) which is to be coded and placed in the system. In the context of the system we are dealing with an idiophone, the class to which the initial code-figure 1 is allotted. Since the instrument is struck it belongs to the first sub-class, and so another 1 is added (struck idiophones = 11). Further addition of relevant code-figures produces the ranking 111 since it is struck directly; and then, as a struck-upon (i.e. percussion) idiophone, it earns a fourth figure, in this case 2 (1112 = percussion idiophones). Further specification leads to 11124 (percussion vessels), 111242 (bells), 1112422 (sets of bells), 11124222 (sets of hanging bells) and 111242222 (ditto with internal strikers) – obviously, everyone must decide for himself how far to go in a given case. Instead of the unmanageable number now arrived at, we write 111.242.222. The first cluster shows that we are dealing with an idiophone that is struck directly, while the second and third together imply that we are dealing with bells.

Common considerations among all instruments of a class – e.g. with membranophones the method of fixing the skin, and with chordophones the playing method – may be noted with the aid of figures appended to the essential code-number by a dash: the pianoforte would be entered as 314.122–4–8 and the harpsichord 314.122–6–8, because 8 represents the keyboard, 4 the hammer playing-action and 6 the plectrum playing-action, both instruments having the same main number indicating board zithers with resonator box.

Any of the subordinate criteria of division may, if desired, easily be elevated and treated as a higher rank in the classification, by switching the positions of figures. Thus, for a bagpipe in which chanter and drone are both of the clarinet type, the code-number would read 422.22–62, i.e. a set of clarinets with flexible air reservoir. But if, for instance in a monograph on bagpipes, one wished to especially distinguish these (i.e. chanter and drone) features, one could write 422–62:22, i.e. reed instrument with flexible air reservoir whose pipes are exclusively clarinets.

Conversely, in order to bring closer together groups which are separated in the system, it is possible to turn a main criterion of division into a subordinate one without destroying the system: one simply replaces the first relevant figure by a point (.) and then adds it after a square bracket (]) at the end of the number. Thus in the example of bagpipes, it might be important to specify these instruments as always polyorganic (i.e. composed of several single instrumental units) but with components which are sometimes clarinets and sometimes oboes; instead of 422–62:22 = reed instrument (Schalmeieninstrument), with flexible air reservoir, polyorganic, composed of clarinets, it might be preferable to write 422–62: . 2 = set of reedpipes (Schalmeienspiel) with flexible air reservoir = bagpipe, and then to differentiate further by writing 422–62: . 2]1 = bagpipe of oboes, or 422–62: . 2]2 = bagpipe of clarinets. (This use of the symbols – :] is slightly different from that of the Classification Bibliographique Décimale, but is nevertheless within its spirit. The rules are: the dash is employed only in connection with the appended figures listed in the tables at the end of each of the four main sections; subdivisions beyond these are preceded by a colon [thus 422–62 = reed instrument with flexible air reservoir, but 422–6: 2 = 422.2–6 = oboe with air reservoir]; subdivision answering to the omission of a figure is preceded by a square bracket.)

Other specifications applying to a subordinate group are suffixed to the code-figures of the latter, e.g. 422–62: . 2]212 = a bagpipe of clarinets with cylindrical bore and finger-holes.

These innumerable cases in which an instrument is composed of parts which in themselves belong to different groups of the system could be indicated by linking appropriate figures by a plus sign. One then avoids repetition of a number common to both such parts, writing this number once and following it with a point: a modern trombone with slide and valve would then appear not as 423.22 + 423.23, but as 4232.2 + 3, and similarly bagpipes composed partly of clarinets and partly of oboes, as cited above, would become 422.62: . 2]1 + 2.

In certain circumstances it may be necessary not only to rearrange the rankings of the concepts and create new subdivisions, but also to incorporate into the higher ranks of the classification some criterion which has purposely not so far been used. There is nothing to prevent this being done, and we should like to illustrate it by a final example, at the same time showing how we envisage the development of our system for special purposes. Let us imagine the case of a monograph on the xylophone. The system divides struck idiophones (111.2) by the shape of the struck bodies, thus: struck sticks (111.21), struck plaques (111.22), struck tubes (111.23) and struck vessels (111.24). Xylophones could fall into any of the first three, but the shape of the sounding bodies is here of little relevance – the transition from sticks to plaques being quite fluid – and so the fifth figure may be removed, and, if desired, added as ]2 at the end. For the sixth figure we insert 2, if the description is to concern only multi-tone instruments, giving 1112. .2 = sets of struck idiophones (Aufschlagspiele). We must, however, exclude sounding bodies of metal, stone, glass etc., and must therefore create a subdivision according to material which the system does not already provide, thus:..\Frames/F922842.htmlFurther stages in this classification of the xylophone would make use of morphological criteria significant from an ethnological point of view:

Classification
1112. .21.1  Bedded xylophone: the sounding bodies rest on an elastic foundation
1112. .21.11  Log xylophone: the foundation consists of separate logs; there is generally a shallow pit in the ground beneath the sounding bodies (found in Oceania, Indonesia, East and West Africa)
1112. .21.12  Frame xylophone: the bearers are joined by cross rods or bars
1112. .21.121  Rail xylophone: the frame hangs from the player’s neck on a sling and is kept clear of his body by a curved rail (South-east, East and West Africa)
1112. .21.122  Table xylophone: the frame is borne on a trestle (Senegal and the Gambia)
1112. .21.13  Sledge xylophone: the sounding bodies lie across the edges of two boards (Central Africa)
1112. .21.14  (Bedded) trough xylophone: the sounding bodies lie across the edges of a trough- or box-shaped vessel (Japan)
1112. .21.2  Suspension xylophone: the sounding bodies lie on two cords without any other foundation
1112. .21.21  (Free) suspension xylophone: without case (southern Vietnam)
1112. .21.22  (Suspension) trough xylophone: with trough-shaped box (Myanmar, Java)

Rail xylophones and table xylophones are to be further subdivided thus: 1 without resonators; 2 with resonators; 21 with resonators suspended singly; 22 with resonators struck into a common platform. The resonators, in most cases gourds, often have holes sealed by a membrane, showing adulteration with 242 (vessel kazoos). Possibly the method of mounting the membranes (directly, or over a cone-shaped frame) will demand another subdivision. One can, however, dispense with adding another number since frame xylophones without resonators are unknown.

Appendix reprinted from Hornbostel and Sachs, 1914 (by permission of Limbach Verlag, Berlin), Eng. trans., 1961/R

KLAUS WACHSMANN/MARGARET J. KARTOMI (1, 4), MARGARET J. KARTOMI (2, 3, 5), ERICH M. VON HORNBOSTEL, CURT SACHS/R (appendix)

1. Introduction: the classification system of Hornbostel and Sachs.

‘Musical instrument’ is a self-explanatory term for an observer in his own society; it is less easy to apply on a worldwide scale because the notion of music itself in such a wide context escapes definition. Hornbostel (1933, p.129) advised that ‘for purposes of research everything must count as a musical instrument with which sound can be produced intentionally’, and wrote of sound-producing instruments, or, for short, sound instruments. The German word ‘Instrumentenkunde’ and its English equivalent ‘organology’ avoid the issue by taking the reference to sound or music for granted. Hood (1971, p.124) distinguished between organology and organography, intending the distinction to separate description plain and simple from the body of knowledge that bears on problems of taxonomy and on the principles that at one time or another have served as bases for systems of classification. Both have in common a concern for structural detail.

The flow chart (fig.1), mapping currents of ideas about musical instruments, places construction (material, design) at the centre, as the common ground and link between organography and organology. The three rectangles to the right refer to intrinsically musical aspects, those to the left to contextual ones. Lateral arrows lead to the centre of the diagram, while curved lines bypassing the centre indicate that a classification might treat details of construction as secondary in importance. For the collector of musical instruments concerned primarily with the objects themselves, or for the performer in his own native music, some of the headings in the diagram must seem far-fetched, yet any one of them could serve as a major criterion for classification in any of the 5000 languages of the world. Some classifications may be narrowly local, utilitarian or ethnic. Others are speculative in that they are derived from a cosmology and meet the challenge of universal applicability because the cosmology is itself implicitly universal.

The first classification of musical instruments suitable for worldwide use was devised by Victor-Charles Mahillon, curator of the instrument museum of the Brussels Conservatory, for his catalogue of the collection. Mahillon’s catalogue, which began to appear in 1880, became the basis of several later systems, the most notable of which was that of E.M. von Hornbostel and Curt Sachs in their Systematik der Musikinstrumente: ein Versuch, published in 1914. This system eclipsed its predecessor and achieved a pre-eminence which it never lost, despite subsequent challenges, adaptations and developments. Hornbostel and Sachs were as concerned to establish an open-ended discussion (‘ein Versuch’) of the problems inherent in classifying musical instruments as they were to show how their own ideas could best be translated into practice. Their use of the Dewey decimal system heralded the important role of non-verbal symbols in years to come. The introduction to the classification, in which they discussed general principles and anticipated the criticisms that their practical system might invite, is printed in its English translation as an appendix to this article.

The classification proper, which follows on the introduction, includes definitions where terms are not self-explanatory (for full lists, see Aerophone, Chordophone, Idiophone, Membranophone). The main headings up to the third digit of the numerical code give a comprehensive view of the classification, as follows:

1 Idiophones (80 entries)

11 struck idiophones

111 idiophones struck directly

112 idiophones struck indirectly

12 plucked idiophones

121 in form of a frame

122 in comb-form

13 friction idiophones

131 friction sticks

132 friction plaques

133 friction vessels

14 blown idiophones

141 blown sticks

142 blown plaques

2 Membranophones (43 entries plus 20 suffix entries)

21 struck drums

211 drums struck directly

212 rattle drums

22 plucked drums

23 friction drums

231 friction drums with stick

232 friction drums with cord

233 hand friction drums

24 singing membranes (kazoos)

241 free kazoos

242 tube- or vessel-kazoos

3 Chordophones (79 entries)

31 simple chordophones or zithers

311 bar zithers

312 tube zithers

313 raft zithers

314 board zithers

315 trough zithers

316 frame zithers

32 composite chordophones

321 lutes

322 harps

323 harp lutes

4 Aerophones (122 entries)

41 free aerophones

411 displacement free aerophones

412 interruptive free aerophones

413 plosive aerophones

42 wind instruments proper

421 edge instruments or flutes

422 reed pipes

The first cross-cultural, historical and cognitive-structural study of classifications of instruments and the concepts of instruments which govern them was presented by Kartomi (1990) who argued that to classify objects such as musical instruments is a fundamental principle of human thinking and that society’s or individual’s classifications of instruments tend to express that society’s or individual’s cultural assumptions. Kartomi distinguished between societies whose beliefs, practices, histories and classificatory schemes have been perpetuated largely by oral transmission (many South-east Asian, Pacific and West African societies) and societies marked mainly by literary transmission (many societies in Europe, the Middle East, China and South Asia). Naturally much more historical source data is available for the latter. Some schemes are in a state of flux while others have persisted for centuries or even millennia. The data suggests that a culture or subculture normally has several co-existing ways of organizing information about musical instruments, ensembles or both, some of which may be based on a number of intersecting facets and others on single- or multiple-character steps of division. Some embody a culture’s profoundest ideas or belief systems. In both kinds of societies classifications range from broad schemes (with few steps or categories) to close groupings (having a substantial number of steps). Late 19th- and early 20th-century comparative musicologists wrote for Western readership and therefore classified a society’s instruments in a Western scholarly fashion rather than in native categories. Until recently, 20th-century classifications tended to be scholar-imposed, as in the case of Mahillon in Europe.

Scholar-imposed, or artificial, schemes normally take the form either of ‘keys’ (tree diagrams; see figs.4 and 5), with one ‘character’ (distinguishing feature) of division per step, or of ‘typologies’, applying more than one character or ‘facet’ (sharply defined aspect) for each step. ‘Culture-emerging’, or natural, schemes take the form of ‘taxonomies’ (fig.6), which apply one character of division at each step, or of ‘paradigms’, which apply more than one principle of division at each step. Both taxonomies and keys are based on downward classificatory thinking (logical division), starting from the general or abstract and moving to the specific, while paradigms are based on the horizontal and vertical intersection of facets. Typologies involve upward thinking, starting with the detail and moving to the more general or abstract. In the process of understanding a taxonomical problem, human beings continually alternate between upward, downward and lateral thinking, for example when trying to avoid inaccuracies, especially at the lower levels in downward schemes. Keys and typologies are schemes constructed for a particular semantic purpose, while taxonomies and paradigms grow from the individual cultural context and musical practice.

Oskár Elschek developed a method based on upward thinking, beginning by inspecting in detail the attributes of a group of objects (e.g. flutes) and classifying them according to increasingly higher levels of generality in order to isolate variants, groups of variants and types. He dubbed this method ‘typological’ and devised a set of special graphic symbols for it. Typologies, unlike keys, are based on a multi-character or multidimensional method of arranging objects according to the simultaneous intersection of categories, as exemplified in fig.7.

Taxonomies of instruments apply one character of division per step (fig.8), while paradigms are groupings based on the simultaneous application of more than one dimension of an object. Among the Tiboli in the southern Philippines, for example, it is necessary to include both solo instruments and ensembles in the one scheme because some instruments are played only solo and others only in ensembles (fig.9). Since the Tiboli apply three main dimensions in simultaneous intersection in their classifications, their mode of classificatory thought is paradigmatic. The empty cells in the paradigm indicate that the Tiboli never use their lute and bowed string ensemble in the ‘strong’ musical style, nor their gong, drum and stick ensemble in the ‘gentle’ musical style, and that instruments played ‘with the breath’ are always played singly, never in ensemble.

Native classification schemes became important sources only in the post-colonial era (after c1970), beginning with scholars such as Hugo Zemp (1971, 1978). In view of the preoccupation of organologists with the method of classification by logical division, it can initially be surprising to learn that taxonomies and keys are not universally accepted as being the ‘natural’ way of classifying and that some societies have traditionally thought in terms of paradigms. There is no evidence that members of orally transmitting cultures such as the ’Are'are (Solomon Islands) or the Tiboli prefer to group instruments in rigidly ordered taxonomies by single-character division, though this mode of thinking is not foreign to them. We know that in many societies several parameters are taken singly or simultaneously into account when constructing taxonomies of instruments, which suggests that multifaceted division may be widespread.

The form of a scheme is related to a culture’s hierarchial preferences for certain instruments. Thus, instruments that are highly valued in a culture are normally more intensively classified than the less-important instruments; for example, in some Javanese schemes, gongs and drums, which are at the top of the hierarchy, are more closely subdivided than other instruments.

In a scheme based on the mode of sound excitation, the classifier’s or culture’s attitude to the way in which sounds are excited on an instrument partly or largely determines the number and content of categories. For example, if members of a culture regard beaten and plucked instruments as having different modes of excitation, they will classify them into those two separate categories, while members of a culture that regards beating and plucking as similar performing actions will subsume them into one category. The classification by the Roman writer Boethius is an example of the former while the scheme of the Hellenistic author Pollux and the dominant Dan (Côte d’Ivoire, Liberia) and Kpelle (Liberia) schemes of West Africa are examples of the latter.

Though many schemes throughout the world take the form of logical division, in some cultures instruments are classified primarily on morphological and acoustic grounds, and in others they are divided mainly according to functional symbols of cosmic or spiritual ideas, sexuality, royal character and aplomb, or as vessels housing various spirits of nature or the ancestors. Classifications of instruments resemble each other across the cultures most closely when based on mode of sound excitation or the single, purely musical factors, and they differ most strongly from each other when based on broader social, religious, or other belief structures. When strict logic comes into conflict with the functionality or simple systematic convenience of a scheme – that is, when ambiguous categories cannot easily be avoided – logic usually falls by the wayside. If logic is used as the evaluative standard, the observer is put in the position of dismissing most inferences as deviant, faulty, or not up to standard. Sometimes, indeed, loose ends are useful in that they can be interpreted as evidence of diachronic processes, as unwitting preservers of elements of change in terminologies or structures.

Schemes that fulfil the requirements of strict paradigmatic form or logical division and schematic symmetry are rare in any culture, whether or not it has a literary or an oral orientation. Sometimes a scheme has developed spontaneously to illustrate a particular idea and therefore had no need to incorporate all the diversity of detail into a watertight symmetry, nor to account for possible loose ends. Sometimes it has expanded, contracted, or changed in some other way at some point, and maintained some old components alongside the new, giving it a somewhat illogical or inconsistent appearance. Nomenclatures and terminologies may have changed in meaning or have been attached to different instruments in the course of time. Ambiguous or contradictory titles of categories or other lexemes are sometimes comprehensible only when regarded as reflecting historical change.

Inconsistencies in a scheme, whether apparent or real, and even if unaccountable, are partly attributable to the fact that the very imposition of boundaries creates problems: borderline cases always arise when boundaries are imposed. By its very nature a given instrumentarium used in practice cannot be fitted into a perfectly logical classification scheme. The reason for this is the very expansiveness and the creativity of the human beings who conceive of, fashion, and continually change the form and meaning of instruments. Our human minds may need such schemes to assist us to comprehend a diverse body of objects or ideas and to aid memory. However, we must reconcile ourselves to the fact that perfectly logical schemes that deal adequately with all aspects of a body of data simply do not evolve in living cultures, since the primary aim is virtually never to comply with the requirements of strict logical division.

Instruments, classification of

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R. Lysloff and J. Matson: ‘A New Approach to the Classification of Sound Producing Instruments’, EthM, xxix (1985), 213–36; repr. in Musical Processes, Resources, and Technologies, ed. K.K. Shelemay (New York, 1990), 315–38

M. Mora: ‘The Sounding Pantheon of Nature: T'boli Instrumental Music in the Making of an Ancestral Symbol’, AcM, lix (1987), 187–212

M. Bakan, W. Bryant and G. Li: ‘Demystifying and Classifying Electronic Music Instruments’, Selected Reports in Ethnomusicology, viii (1990), 37–64

M.J. Kartomi: On Concepts and Classifications on Musical Instruments (Chicago, 1990)

M. Mora: Interpreting Utom: an Ethnographic Account of the Musical Instrumental Practice of the T'boli of Mindonao, Philippines (diss., Monash U., 1990)

Instruments, collections of.

Musical instruments are collected for many reasons – for use in performance, as objects of veneration or visual art, to furnish ethnological and historical evidence, to illustrate technological developments and serve as models for new construction, for financial investment and sale, and merely to satisfy curiosity. Amateur and professional musicians, wealthy aristocrats, religious and municipal bodies, schools and museums are among those who amass instruments for one reason or another. Criteria distinguishing successful modern collections include not merely size, but also quality and accessibility of holdings, condition and documentation of individual objects, and integrity or coherence of the whole. This article outlines the history of instrument collecting with attention to the motives and conditions that influence collectors, and deals with assemblages of musical instruments gathered intentionally and more or less permanently. Instruments awaiting dispersal (e.g. in a dealer’s or maker’s shop) or accumulated apparently by chance are considered only in passing.

1. The earliest collections.

2. Medieval.

3. Renaissance to 1800.

4. Since 1800.

5. List of collections.

LAURENCE LIBIN, ARNOLD MYERS (1–4), BARBARA LAMBERT, ALBERT C. RICE (5)

1. The earliest collections.

Assemblage and deliberate preservation of groups of instruments is an ancient but not a universal practice. Little evidence exists of large-scale collecting outside urban centres; nomads, subsistence-level tribes and those occupying hostile environments may not save instruments at all. Though Amerindians seldom preserved collections of instruments, descendants of the Aztecs still occasionally hoarded specimens of the teponaztli and huéhuetle in the 1950s. Elsewhere, particularly in settled societies where ensemble performance predominates, collections associated with worship or venerated in their own right are not uncommon; notable examples include New Guinean slit-drums, East African royal drums, and ceremonial instruments in Himalayan monasteries. Such groups may be of substantial size: the Tibetan monastery at Tin-ge owned at least 12 bone trumpets, four long trumpets, and hundreds of cymbals, drums, small bells, and other ritual noisemakers. Special ceremonies, taboos and skills connected with their manufacture and use reinforce the instruments’ extra-musical connotations among non-literate societies; revered collections may thus be said to express a people's history and beliefs. But largely because of political factors and the greed of Western collectors many native assemblages have been dispersed, injuring continuity of traditional practices in affected areas such as central Java, where late 18th- and early 19th-century rulers of some principalities maintained three complete gamelans. Although national pride and affluence have led to re-establishment of collections in some former colonies, the most extensive repositories occur today in urbanized, literate societies with long histories of instrumental art music.

The oldest extant groups of instruments, dating back some 6000 years, do not represent consciously preserved collections. Late Roman and early medieval instrument groups, usually fragmentary and found in northern European mounds, may similarly be coincidental. Since relatively few ancient instruments survive, however, such small archaeological assemblages demand attention. Archaeological departments of art and history museums often include instruments that are not catalogued with the institutions' main instrument collections, but are accompanied by excavation data without which the objects might be valueless to scholars. A major responsibility of modern collectors is to obtain accurate documentation of their instruments and to transmit this information with the instruments should they change ownership; in this respect archaeological and ethnographic collectors generally have been conscientious.

Quite apart from accidental accumulation, the thoughtful collection of instruments is an ancient practice. History records the jealous guarding of many individual instruments, including even a fake ‘lyre of Paris’ that Plutarch mentioned as being kept in Troy in 334 bce; references to collections are less common, but although well-known passages in 2 Chronicles and Daniel may be late and unreliable there is no reason to doubt that collections of instruments formed part of the sacred property both of Solomon's temple and of Nebuchadnezzar's band. The Second Temple seems to have owned a small orchestra of lyres, harps, horns, trumpets, oboes and cymbals, and there is much evidence of earlier collections used in ritual and entertainment.

Besides collecting instruments for ensemble performance, many ancient peoples hoarded apotropaic (evil-averting) and votive instruments for inclusion at burials. Cult instruments brought together to be entombed constitute the oldest extant true collections. Tutankhamun's tomb (c1352 bce) yielded pairs of trumpets and sistra, but most Egyptian burial collections consist only of jingles or votive clappers. Of greater interest to musicians is an assemblage excavated in 1972 from the 2100-year-old tomb of a Chinese noblewoman near Changsha, Hunan province. This includes models of performers playing miniature instruments, as well as real instruments in a state of fine preservation. The Elgin auloi and fragmentary lyre now in the British Museum, from a 5th-century bce Athenian tomb, were likewise once playable. Despite topical inscriptions such as occur on bronze ceremonial instruments excavated in 1955 from the 5th-century bce tomb of the Marquis of Cai, Shouxian county, Anhui province, such interred collections were probably never intended to be seen again in this world.

After the destruction of instruments ordered by Emperor Qin Shihuang (221–210 bce) China again became the home of remarkable collections intended for use in performance. Unlike Indian courts, where small ensembles predominated despite the wealth of instruments available, Tang court ministries and conservatories of music involved hundreds of musicians playing about 50 kinds of instruments, often in large orchestras. The cosmopolitan Tang court conservatory (established 714 ce) collected not only the finest Chinese instruments but also foreign ones brought from trade centres as far west as Bukhara, gifts to the music-loving Emperor Xuan Zong (712–56). In quality and quantity, as well as in geographical scope, his repositories dwarfed any known in Europe for nearly the next 1000 years. Some idea of those holdings may be gained from the dozens of superbly decorated instruments still preserved at the Japanese Imperial Treasury of Shōsōin at Nara; many of these were played by foreign musicians at the unveiling of a Buddha at Tōdaiji temple in 752.

Under the Song dynasty (960–1280) some Chinese shrines employed as many as 120 qin, 120 se, 200 sheng, 20 oboes and percussion. In 1114 the emperor continued the practice of instrument exchange on a grand scale by sending to Korea a collection that included ten sets each of stone chimes and bells.

2. Medieval.

Despite ample iconographic evidence of the many types of instruments assembled at medieval European music centres and despite extant descriptions of occasional large ensembles, we know of no permanent instrument collections of the Middle Ages that approached in size those of contemporary east Asia. Those European instruments that were held in highest regard were complex, rare and probably outside the mainstream of musical activity. There seem to have been no significant collections as such during the earlier Middle Ages. Instrumental music had been discouraged for religious reasons, but even in Islamic Spain, where by 755 Córdoba under the caliphate had become an important music centre, instruments appeared only in small groups except on extraordinary occasions. Since solo and small ensemble music predominated there was no reason to assemble large numbers of instruments for use in performance as in China, and few medieval nobles could afford to employ more than a handful of musicians. While the Church Fathers' censure of secular musical pleasures might not have been taken too seriously, little energy was spent in preserving what could be considered mere tools. Apart from such things as church bells, only those few instruments that found their way to treasuries among other objects valued for appearance, precious materials, or historical associations were saved intentionally. It is likely that the musicians' plain, perishable tools, of which itinerant players seldom owned more than they could carry, simply wore out.

Gradually the rise of polyphony created a demand for more and better-blending instruments. Ceremonial performance called for loud wind instruments like those owned by London's Goldsmiths' Company band, enriched in 1391 by purchase of new trumpets, clarions, shawms, a bombard and a bagpipe – perhaps, with some drums, a guild's typical collection. Domestic music required softer instruments; in 1425 the Parisian Jacques Duchié owned ‘harps, organs, vielles, gitterns, psalteries and others, all of which he knew how to play’. Contemporary writers frequently mentioned amateur virtuosos; Sollazzo in Simone Prodenzani's Il Saporetto (c1400), who could play any instrument, may have had authentic counterparts who owned a variety of instruments. The court musician's status had much to do with the formation of collections, for example at the Burgundian court where noble children took lessons on richly decorated instruments from Philip the Bold's 28 musicians (1367). Yet there is no evidence that groups of the loveliest instruments were set apart from ordinary use to be appreciated as art objects.

3. Renaissance to 1800.

The flourishing of instrument collections during the Renaissance, especially in Italy, is best understood in the context of collecting in general. With increasing wealth and ease of travel, collectors gathered great numbers of exotic objects both for amusement and instruction. Competition led to ostentation, since according to Matarazzo ‘it belongs to the position of the great to keep horses, dogs, … court jesters, singers and foreign animals’, and the largest number of different specimens was most impressive. The contemporaneous development of idiomatic instrumental music elevated the status of instrument makers, who in some towns were protected by professional guilds. Growth of instrument families in all pitch ranges made it desirable to obtain complete consorts, adding new varieties as they became fashionable. Fulfilling aristocratic demands for instruments of utmost magnificence, makers produced art objects worthy of display in private musei and Wunderkammern; an impression of these studios survives in the intarsias that lined Federigo da Montefeltro's studios at Urbino and Gubbio. By commissioning elegant instruments towns and churches joined the nobility and rich merchants in demonstrating prosperity and good taste. All these factors encouraged instrument collecting.

With important exceptions noted below, most of the Renaissance and Baroque collections have become dispersed. Some idea of their contents can be gained from various published inventories and descriptions. A 1503 inventory of Isabella of Castile's royal alcázar reveals about 20 instruments, some old and broken, a modest assemblage used mainly in performance. A century later Philip II's royal palace in Madrid boasted not only 136 wind, 44 string and 11 keyboard instruments, but also ten Chinese instruments (1602 inventory; the collection, part of which Philip inherited from his aunt, Queen Mary of Hungary, was dispersed through sale a few years later). Wind instruments likewise far outnumbered strings at Henry VIII's Westminster (1547 inventory), where Philip van Wilder had in his charge about 320 instruments (not counting gilt horns, drums and the like), including 40 keyboards. Raymond Fugger's music chamber in Augsburg held (in 1566) nearly 400 instruments, including over 100 flutes and recorders, about 140 lutes and many violins and harpsichords by famous makers, gathered from all over Europe. The Berlin court orchestra owned (in 1582) 72 instruments, 60 of them wind, while Archduke Ferdinand II of the Tyrol's collections (1596) comprised over 230 costly instruments, nearly 80% wind. Ferdinand's personal collection, now at the Vienna Kunsthistorisches Museum, was kept at his Ambras residence near Innsbruck. French 16th-century collections were far less impressive, but Jean de Badonvilliers, councillor to François I, left a number of string and keyboard instruments at his death in 1544. A 1603 inventory of the Hengrave Hall collection survives; in that year the royal collection provided violins for Queen Elizabeth's funeral.

Woodwind instruments usually outnumbered strings in Renaissance repositories, but have not survived in such profusion. Wooden flutes and reed instruments, being cheaper and offering less opportunity for decoration than strings, were considered less worth preserving when they became obsolete; they were also harder to modernize (ivory ones were more precious and often elaborately carved, but less useful in performance; hence they survive in relatively high numbers). Wind instruments in sets often belonged to repositories heavily drawn on by professional performers. The Kassel Hofkapelle inventories of 1573, 1613 and 1638 record loans to the count's musicians; there and elsewhere it appears that valuable, decorated keyboard instruments seldom left their usual chambers (hence more harpsichords and organs occur in inventories than one might expect since one or more might have had to be kept wherever music was often performed). These stationary, seldom loaned instruments are more likely than most to have become ‘collectors’ items’.

Only gradually did connoisseurs evolve the concept of a collection as a work of art, capable of displaying internal harmony and of expressing its owner's taste. Private collectors rather than institutional buyers were mainly responsible for developing this attitude, and Italy in particular was full of collectors. Venice boasted Agostino Amadi, Luigi Balbi, Marco Contarini (whose collection passed to the Correr family and parts of which came to the Paris and Brussels conservatory collections), Leonardo Sanudo and Catarino Zeno; in Bologna lived Ferdinando Cospi; in Ferrara, Antonio Goretti; in Florence, Ridolfo Sirigatti; in Padua, Enea degli Obizzi (whose collection is now in the Vienna Kunsthistorisches Museum); in Rome, Michele Todini and Athanasius Kircher; and in Milan, Manfredo Settala. Finally, there were the more renowned d'Este, Sforza and Medici families. According to Bottrigari, Isabella d'Este's nephew Alfonso II kept his collection in two great chambers where his musicians played; the instruments were arranged by category, and separated according to whether they were played or ‘different from those … usually made today’, and included Vicentino's arcicembalo and a set of crumhorns (possibly those now in the Musée des instruments de musique, Brussels).

In Spain and Portugal, noteworthy collections belonged to the Duke of Calabria at Valencia and to Queen Mary of Hungary. Northwards were the private holdings of Jean Baptiste Dandeleu, Caspar Duitz, Hendrick van Brederode, and Constantijn Huygens. Hans Burgkmair's Triumphzug illustrates instruments from Maximilian I's Hofkapelle. A certain Felix Platter owned instruments in Basle.

In 1659 Elias Ashmole received a Guinea Coast drum from Johan Tradescant the younger, whose 1656 Musaeum Tradescantianum catalogue records several African and Indian drums under the heading ‘Warlike Instruments’ (a Guinea drum and a fragment of a side-blown horn remain in the Ashmolean collection, Oxford); similar instruments had been illustrated by Praetorius (Theatrum instrumentorum, 1620). Athanasius Kircher's museum at Rome contained instruments discussed in his Musurgia universalis (1650); and Filippo Bonanni, curator of Kircher's collection from 1698, drew on Kircher's text as well as Marin Mersenne's Harmonie universelle (1636–7) for his own Gabinetto armonico (1722). Michele Todini's Dichiaratione della galleria armonica (1676) describes his own idiosyncratic collection, which included curious instruments of his own design; his extraordinary harpsichord flanked by figures of Polyphemus and Galatea survives in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. Todini exhibited his collection publicly, and Winternitz believed that it might have constituted ‘the first museum exclusively devoted to musical instruments’.

Of particular interest later in the Baroque era were the keyboard instruments in collections of Cosimo III and Ferdinando de' Medici (supervised by Bartolomeo Cristofori after 1716), Cardinal Ottoboni and Queen Maria Barbara de Braganza. In England Sir Samuel Hellier assembled a distinguished collection in the mid-18th century including the Stradivari violin now known by his name; the greater part, however, he sent to his country house so that his estate workers could enjoy orchestral music-making – an early example of the provision of sets of instruments for workers' recreation which became common with 19th-century industrialists. By that time it was common for collectors to obtain antique instruments at public sales.

Some outstanding 18th-century musicians were collectors. The celebrated castrato Farinelli owned several precious keyboard instruments (nicknamed ‘Coreggio’, Rafael’, ‘Titian’ and so on), some inherited from Queen Maria Barbara; his testament (1782) specifies that his collection, formed for playing domestic music, should be perpetually preserved in good order along with his music library for the exclusive enjoyment of devoted musicians. Bach at his death owned 19 instruments estimated at nearly a third of the entire value of his estate. Curatorial responsibilities may have stimulated other notable composers of instrumental music. In 1673 Henry Purcell was apprenticed to John Hingeston, Charles II's instrument keeper, as an unpaid ‘keeper, maker, mender, repayrer and tuner of the regalls, organs, virginalls, flutes and recorders and all other kind of wind instruments whatsoever’; ten years later Purcell succeeded Hingeston. One of Haydn's contractual responsibilities as Vice-Kapellmeister to the Esterházys was to look after the instruments and order new ones for the prince's orchestra. Vivaldi's duties at the Pio Ospedale della Pietà included the purchase of instruments.

4. Since 1800.

The French Revolution sounded the death-knell of aristocratic hoarding. From then on middle-class utilitarian ideals underlay the evolution of public collections, first shown by the ambitious ‘collection of antique or foreign instruments and also for those in present use which by virtue of their perfection may serve as models’ proposed for the new Paris Conservatoire by the 1795 National Convention. Regrettably, most of the treasures inventoried for the Commission temporaire des arts perished as firewood during the winter of 1816, and it was not until 1864 that the Conservatoire's museum began with the acquisition of 230 instruments from Louis Clapisson. In Edinburgh John Donaldson, holder of the University Chair of Music, assembled a collection of old and unusual instruments and acoustical apparatus (perhaps the first to be brought together for scholarly study and academic teaching) and built a museum (1859) still in use for this purpose. This was followed in the 1870s by the creation of the Brussels Conservatory's museum from the private collections of F.-J. Fétis, Victor-Charles Mahillon and others; then in 1888 came the acquisition of Paul de Wit's first collection by the Berlin Königliche Hochschule für Musik. Perhaps the oldest institutional collection still thriving is that of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde in Vienna, begun in 1824 with the acquisition of F.X. Glöggl's instruments and administered in trust since 1938 by the Kunsthistorisches Museum; this repository holds both the Ambras and Obizzi collections, combined by Julius Schlosser in 1916 to form the Sammlung alter Musikinstrumente.

By the 18th century the notion of musical progress had become tied to technical improvement in instrumental manufacture. Growing concern with design standards for mass-produced goods led in the 19th century to the founding of museums of decorative arts in which old instruments occupied an honoured place; London's Victoria and Albert Museum is an example. Loan exhibitions encouraged competition among makers and confirmed the importance of exposing foreign models; one instance is the gamelan that so impressed Debussy at the 1889 Paris Exhibition. Temporary loan exhibitions enjoyed much popularity in England, where an important pioneering display took place in 1872 at the South Kensington (now the Victoria and Albert) Museum. Others followed, some producing useful catalogues: Milan (1881), London (Royal Albert Hall, 1885), Bologna and Brussels (1888), Vienna (1892), Chicago (1893), London (Crystal Palace, 1900), Boston (Horticultural Hall, 1902), and again London (Fishmongers' Hall, 1904). The Fishmongers' Hall catalogue explained the motive for such exhibitions: ‘to enable all interested in music under its various aspects to contrast, as a fruitful means of instruction, its past with its present condition – to estimate its growth and development, and to observe what progress has been made in the work of the instrument maker’.

Darwinian theories of evolution, scientific interest in acoustics, easy contact with colonial areas and abundant funds encouraged 19th-century collectors whose holdings became the nuclei of many museum collections. Some museums emphasized educational objectives while catering for middle-class tourists with a taste for the exotic; others became archival, veritable Noah's arks of primary source material for research. Many institutions inherited problems as well as benefits from the acquisition of instrument hoards offered by amateurs whose wealth and enthusiasm usually offset their understandable lack of discernment. Most private collectors were rich dilettantes with little musical knowledge; others were professional performers or instrument manufacturers; only a few were music scholars of the first rank. Yet so readily available were fine antiques during the ‘golden age’ of collecting (up to World War I) that, whether through careful search or mere luck, collectors of every level of sophistication accumulated and eventually gave to museums many significant instruments (as well as many fakes).

By the early 20th century the pace of acquisition had slowed, and museums did not always have clear objectives. Some important public collections were established, for instance in Leipzig, when thanks to the magnificence of with Henri Hinrichsen the state of Saxony was able to purchase the collection of Wilhelm Heyer of Cologne to create the Leipzig University Musikinstrumenten-Museum in 1926. In Berlin Curt Sachs (Director of the Collection at the Hochschule für Musik from 1920 to 1933) exploited the collection in his pioneering organological work. On the other hand, the cleric, collector and scholar Francis Galpin could find no museum in Britain that would accept his collection of 560 instruments – one of the first truly systematic organological collections – and it was acquired in 1917 by the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, USA. Some museum collections stagnated, or in some cases added haphazardly to their holdings.

After World War II collections public and private found a new sense of direction, fostered by the early music movement hand-in-hand with flourishing research and publication in organology. The discovery of the novel sounds of period instruments in early music gave collections a new and vital purpose, either by directly providing instruments for performance, or indirectly by supplying the information needed by players and instrument makers to reconstruct new instruments giving the sounds it was believed the old would have produced. Measurements, drawings and organological publications now found a growing market.

The Galpin Society was formed in 1946, followed by the Gesellschaft der Freunde alter Musikinstrumente, the American Musical Instrument Society, the Association des Collectionneurs d'Instruments de Musique à Vent, and other societies. The impetus for these was provided by collectors; the main activity of the largest of these has been the production of scholarly journals.

In the second half of the 20th century private collections sprang up and flourished, held in check only by increased prices for historic instruments. As time passed, instruments of later periods were considered to be collectable, reflecting the fact that instrument designs have continued to evolve. Some private collections have since been dispersed at auction, some taken over by institutions. The better managed private collections have standards of care and documentation quite up to professional museum standards, and some private collections have been of outstanding importance, assembled with well-informed connoisseurship.

Public collections of instruments (as with other museum sectors post-World War II) placed a new importance on communication with wider audiences using improved display techniques and, latterly, the Internet. The emphasis on interpretation led to thematic rather than taxonomic displays. Towards the end of the 20th century, museums installed sound or multimedia systems, and exploited computer interactive techniques.

At the same time, there was more thorough documentation, with catalogues becoming more analytical, seeking to distinguish between original material and design and later repairs and adaptations, and considering the cultural and social contexts of the original production of instruments, rather than just the technical means. Museum documentation increasingly recorded knowledge about provenance, former use, and the circumstances surrounding the making of instruments. Recognizing the importance of research and of reliable provenance data, some museum staff undertook field trips, acquiring sound recordings and information of kinds often lost when instruments are purchased through dealers or at auction.

Collectors, especially museums with a mission to preserve artefacts for posterity, became increasingly aware that the actual use of historic instruments in performance is not sustainable. In many cases playing and restoration resulted in damage or other loss of integrity. It was also realized that historic instruments as they have come down to us are not in the condition their makers left them, wood having shrunk and warped and metal having corroded and undergone changes in structure, and that the best contribution of early instruments is to serve as models for copying or to contribute data for new instruments based on the study of many originals. Specialist museums and some private collectors made instruments available for study by makers or published technical drawings.

The establishment of the formal teaching of organology and academic research at university collections in Edinburgh, Yale, Leipzig, South Dakota (Shrine to Music Museum, Vermillion) and Oxford (Ashmolean Museum, Bate Collection, Pitt Rivers Collection) took place in the second half of the 20th century. Some of the more important collections which were originally attached to conservatories have become state musuems. In these cases new buildings were often provided, including the impressive new museums in Berlin (1984), Paris (1997) and Brussels (2000).

The second half of the 20th century also saw a significant increase in co-operation, not only in exhibitions but also in professional activities. The Comité international des musées et collections d'instruments de musique (CIMCIM) was formed with members from 14 countries in 1960, becoming part of the International Council of Museums. In 1971 CIMCIM gave birth to the International Association of Instrument Collections, reabsorbed in an enlarged CIMCIM in 1975. The organization provides a forum for the exchange of professional experience and has produced publications of value to public and private collectors of instruments alike.

5. List of collections.

This list includes collections containing 30 or more musical instruments, and occasionally those with smaller numbers of particularly significant instruments or with a specific theme. More archaeology and ethnography museums and mechanical instrument collections are cited than in previous Grove publications. Collections, whether institutional or private, are always in a state of flux: they grow and shrink, are bought and sold or absorbed wholesale into other collections, and they are sometimes dispersed. Information for this article was gathered between 1990 and 2000, and comes from several sources: from questionnaires answered between 1990 and 1995 for the International Directory of Musical Instrument Collections (IDMIC), sponsored by the Comité international des museés et collections d’instruments de musique (CIMCIM), and from a variety of published sources (see bibliography, below). In those instances where collections still known to exist did not respond to the IDMIC survey, the entry has been repeated from Grove6.

Detailed information about collections is also available from organizations such as the Galpin Society (Britain), the Gellschaft der Freunde alter Musikinstrumente (Switzerland), the Kommission für Instrumentenkunde der Gesellschaft für Musikforschung and the American Musical Instrument Society. The IDMIC is published and maintained on the worldwide web.

algeria

algiers.

Musée du Bardo, Centre de Recherches Anthropologiques, Préhistoriques et Ethnographiques: 65 North African and Sarahan

angola

M.E. Vignati and M.Y. Velo: ‘Los instrumentos musicales del Museo de ciencias naturales de la Plata’, Primeros Jornados Argentinos de Musicologia (1984)

la plata.

Museo Instrumentos Musicales ‘Emilio Azzarini’: 750 Western, native South American, and musical boxes.

Perfil de un museo musical: exposicion (1987); C.E. Rausa: Instrumentos musicales Museo Azzarini, Universidad nacional de la Plata (1994)

san salvador de jujuy.

Museo ‘Carlos Darwin’: 1500 archaeological, ethnological

australia

brisbane.

Queensland Museum: 420 Australian, Asian and from the Pacific Rim.

L.M. Bolton: Oceanic Cultural Property in Australia (Sydney, 1980); M.J. Kartomi: Musical Instruments of Indonesia (Melbourne, 1985); L.M. Bolton and J. Specht: Polynesian and Micronesian Artifacts (Sydney, 1984–5)

nedlands.

Department of Music, University of Western Australia: many Asian, and European incl. J. Payton collection.

D. Casson: Collection of Musical Instruments (1974)

sydney.

Powerhouse Museum (formerly Museum of Applied Arts and Sciences): 600 European, some Chinese and Japanese; Australian violins.

B. Griffin and M. Lee: ‘A Brief History of the Musical Instrument Collection of the Powerhouse Museum, Sydney’, CIMCIM Bulletin, no.21 (1994)

austria

göttweig.

Musikarchiv Stift Göttweig: 50 European, on loan from Benedictine Abbey, Göttweig.

graz.

Abteilung Kunstgewerbe, Landesmuseum Joanneum: c220 European art and traditional.

graz.

Diozesanmuseum: c40 European art and traditional.

graz.

Institut fur Afführungspraxis, Musikhochschule: bowed string instruments and pianos.

graz.

Landeszeughaus, Landesmuseum Joanneum: c240 military and accessories.

G. Stradner: ‘Die Musikinstrumente im Steiermärkischen Landeszeughaus in Graz’, Trommeln und Pfeifen, vi (1976), 7–36

graz.

Steierisches Volkskundemuseum, Landesmuseum Joanneum: c85 European art and traditional.

H. Sowinski: ‘Steirische Volksmusikinstrumente’, Das Joanneum, iii (1940), 188–102; G. Stradner: ‘Volksmusikinstrumente in Steirischen Sammlungen’, Vorträge Graz und Seggau 1973–1977 (1977), 141–8; G. Stradner: Musikinstrumente in Grazer Sammlungen (1986)

innsbruck.

Kunsthistorische Sammlungen, Schloss Ambras: 11 16th- and 17th-century European art and traditional, 4 non-European.

L. Luchner: Kunsthistorische Sammlungen, Schloss Ambras (1959); A.P. Larson: ‘Visit to Innsbruck’s Schloss Ambras’, AMIS Newsletter, xiv/1 (1985); Für Aug’ und Ohr: Musik in Kunst und Wunderkammern (1999) [exhibition catalogue]

innsbruck.

Tiroler Landesmuseum Ferdinandeum: c240 European.

F. Waldner: ‘Verzeichnis der Musikinstrumente in der Sammlung des Museum Ferdinandeum’, Zeitschrift des Ferdinandeums für Tirol und Vorarlberg, lix (1915); W. Pass: ‘Die Instrumentensammlung des Tiroler Landesmuseums Ferdinandeum’, ÖMz, xxv (1970), 693–8; ‘Die Musiksammlung’, Tiroler Landesmuseum im Zeughaus (1973)

linz.

Oberösterreiches Landesmuseum: c250 mainly European, incl. early string instruments and winds from Benedictine Abby, Kremsmünster.

O. Wessely: Die Musikinstrumentensammlung des Oberösterreichen Landesmuseums (1952); B. Wied-Heinzel: ‘Die Musikinstrumentensammlung des Oberösterreiches Landesmuseums, eine Ergänzung zu Othmar Wessely’ Jb des Oberösterreichen Landesmuseums, cxvi (1981), 149–70; P.T. Young: Die Holzblasinstrumente im Oberösterreichischen Landesmuseum (1997) [catalogue]

salzburg.

Museum Carolino Augusteum: c450 mainly European.

K. Geiringer: Alte Musik-Instrumente im Museum Carolino Augusteum Salzburg (Leipzig, 1932); J.H. van der Meer: ‘Die Kielklavier im Salzburger Museum Carolino Augusteum’, Salzburger Museum Carolino Augusteum Jahresschrift, xii–xiii (1966/7–8), 83–96; K. Birsak: ‘Die Holzblasinstrumente im Salzburger Museum Carolino Augusteum: Verzeichnis und entwicklungsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen’, Salzburger Museum Carolino Augusteum Jahresschrift, xviii (1972); K. Birsak: ‘Anmerkungen zu den Volksmusikinstrumenten im Salzburger Museum Carolino-Augusteum, besonders zur Bundanordnung der alpenländischen Zither’, Die Volksmusik im Lande Salzburg: Salzburg 1975, 199–217; K. Birsak: ‘Die Blechblasinstrumente im Museum Carolino Augusteum’, Salzburger Museum Carolino Augusteum, Jahresschrift, xx (1976); K Birsak and G. Walterskirchen: ‘Die Orgelinstrumenten im Salzburger Museum Carolino Augusteum’, Salzburger Museum Carolino Augusteum, Jahresschrift, xxiii–xxiv (1977–8), 57–85; K. Birsak: ‘Klaviere im Salzburger Museum Carolino Augusteum’, Salzburger Museum Carolino Augusteum, Jahresschrift, xxxiv (1988); K. Birsak: Salzburger Museum Carolino Augusteum: Museumsführer (1996)

vienna.

Kunsthistorisches Museum Musikinstrumente Sammlung: 1000 16th- to 19th-century European, incl. Innsbruck, Archduke Ferdinand of Schoss Ambras, Este-Obizzi, and Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde (loan) collections.

Gebäude der Kunstsammlung der Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde in Wien und ihres Conservatorium (1872); Geschichte der K.K. Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde in Wien (1912); J. von Schlosser: Die Sammlung alter Musikinstrumente (1920/R); V. Luithlen: Saiteninstrumente (Klaviere, Streichinstrumente, Zupfinstrumente) (1941); V. Luithlen: Katalog der Sammlung alter Musikinstrumente, i: Saitenklaviere (1966/R); G. Stradner: ‘Die Geige in Wien’, Wiener Geschichtsblätter, xl/2 (1985), 41–8; G. Stradner: Sammlung alter Musikinstrumente (1988); G. Stradner: ‘Musik in Mantua’ Fürstenhöfe der Renaissance: Giulio Romano und die klassische Tradition (1989), 266–73; Die Klangwelt Mozarts (1991); G. Stradner and others: Klangführer durch die Sammlung Alter Musikinstrumente (1993); W. Seipel, ed.: Die Botschaft der Musik: 1000 Jahre Musik in Österreich (1996) [exhibition catalogue, Palais Harrach]; R. Hopfner: Streichbogen: Katalog (Tutzing, 1998)

vienna.

Museum des Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde: c100 on loan since 1938 to the Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna.

vienna.

Museum für Völkerkunde: 7000 non-European, incl. part of Tagore (Indian), and Duke Franz Ferdinand d’Este collections.

A. Janata: Aussereuropäische Musikinstrumente (1961); A. Mais: Volksmusikinstrumente der Balkanländer (1969); A. Janata: Musikinstrumente der Völker: Aussereuropäische Musikinstrumente (1975)

vienna.

Österreichisches Museum für Volkskunde: 200 mainly Austrian and alpine.

K.M. Klier: Volkstümliche Musikinstrumente in den Alpen (Kassel, 1956); K. Beitl: Volksmusikinstrumente Neuerwerbungen der Sammlung Georg Kotek (1979)

azerbaijan

I. Cammaert: Le hochet à travers les âges et les continents (1991)

brussels.

Musée des Instruments de Musique, Conservatoire Royal de Bruxelles: 6000 worldwide esp. European art and traditional, incl. part of Tagore (Indian), and Fétis, Contarini-Correr (17th-century Italian) and Snoeck (Low Countries) collections.

V.-C. Mahillon: Catalogue descriptif & analytique du Musée instrumental du Conservatoire royal de musique de Bruxelles (1880–1922/R); C.C. Snoeck: Catalogue de la collection d’instruments de musique anciens ou curieux (1894); C.C. Snoeck: Catalogue de la collection d’instruments de musique flamands et néerlandais de C.C. Snoeck (1903); V.-C. Mahillon: Catalogue abrége du Musée instrumental du Conservatoire royal de musique de Bruxelles (1912); Exposition des instuments de musique des XVIème et XVIIème siècles (1969) [exhibition catalogue]; The Brussels Museum of Musical Instruments Bulletin (1971–87); Instruments de musique: XVIème et XVIIème siècles (1972) [exhibition catalogue]; Images de l’univers (1974) [exhibition catalogue]; N. Meeùs: Musical Instruments (1974) [exhibition catalogue]; A. Caufriez: La collection indonésian du Musée instrumental de Bruxelles (1980); M. Haine and I. de Keyser: Catalogue des instruments Sax au Musée instrumental de Bruxelles (1980); M. Haine: ‘Le Musée instrumental de Bruxelles: de prestigieuses collections’, Musique/Musiques, iii (1983), 3–10; P. Mardaga, ed.: Instruments de musique anciens à Bruxelles et Wallonie (1985); A. Caufriez: L’instrument de musique traditionnel ibérique (1988); M. Awouters, J. Timans and A. Meurant: Koninklijke instrumenten (1991)

ghent.

Bylokemuseum: 55 mainly wind.

Y. Hollebosch-Van Reck and I. de Keyser: Catalogus van de muziekinstrumenten (1978)

ghent.

Seminarie voor Etnische Kunst: 100 from Africa, the Americas and Asia.

J. Vandenhoute and H. Burssens: De Ethnographische verzamelingen (1968)

gooik.

Ontmoetingscentrum “De Cam” [Cultural Center for Traditional Music]: 300 Flemish.

H. Dewit: Muziek op hakkebord en klompviool, volksmuziek te kijk (1986); J. Baeten and H. Dewit: Muziek van bij ons (1993)

liège.

Musée de la Vie Wallonne: 400 mostly Walloon traditional.

Les instruments de musique à Bruxelles et en Wallonie: inventaire descriptif (1992)

tervuren.

Musée Royal de l’Afrique Centrale: 8000 mainly from former Belgian Congo.

E. Coart and A. De Haulleville: Notes analytiques sur les collections ethnographiques du Musée du Congo (1902); ‘Enquête sur la vie musicale au Congo Belge, 1934-35’, Archives d’Anthropologie, xi–xiii (1934–5); O. Boone: Les xylophones du Congo Belge (1936); O. Boone: Les tambours du Congo Belge et du Ruand-Urundi (1951); J. Laurenty: Les cordophones du Congo Belge et du Ruanda-Urundi (1960); J. Laurenty: Les sanza du Congo (1962); J. Laurenty: Les tambours à fente de l’Afrique central (1968); J. Laurenty: La systématique des aérophones de l’Afrique centrale (1974); M Brandily: Instruments de musique ... chez les Teda du Tibesti (1984); J. Gansemans: Les instruments de musique du Rwanda (1988); J. Gansemans: Volksmuziekinstrumenten, getuigen en resultat van een interetnische samenleving (1989); J. Laurenty: La répartition géographique des aérophones de l’Afrique centrale (1990); L. Verbeek: Initiation et mariage dans la chanson populaire des Bemba du Zaïre (1993); J. Laurenty: Organologie du Zaire, i: Introduction et bibliographie, ii: Les sanza, le xylophones, les tambours à fente, iii: Les membranophones (1995–6)

benin

porto-novo.

Musée Ethnographique ‘Alexandre Senou Adande’: 150 Beninese

bolivia

la paz.

Museo Nacional: Bolivian

brazil

belém.

Museu Paraense Emílio Goeldi: 400 Brazilian.

E. Galvão: Guia das exposições de antropologia (1962, 4/1978)

rio de janeiro.

Museu Histórico Nacional: 50 Brazilian.

J. Camêu: Instrumentos musicais dos indígenas brasileiros (1979) [exhibition catalogue]

rio de janeiro.

Museo do Indio: 300 native Brazilian.

rio de janeiro.

Museu Nacional: 1300 Brazilian.

são paulo.

Museu Folclorico

O. Alvarenga: Catálogo ilustrado do Museum Folclórico (1950)

são paulo.

Museo Paulista da Universidade de São Paulo: 200 Brazilian.

Revista do Museu Paulista

bulgaria

blagoevgrad.

Okrǎžen Istoričeski Muzej [Regional Historical Museum]: 75 Bulgarian.

haskovo.

Okrǎžen Istoričeski Muzej [Regional Historical Museum]: 80 Bulgarian.

sofia.

Institut za Muzika: 130 European art and traditional, African, Asian.

sofia.

Nacionalen Etnografski Muzej na Bǎlgarskata Akademija na Naukite [National Ethnographic Museum of the Bulgarian Academy of Sciences]: 130 ethnological

burkina faso

gaoua.

Musée Provincial du Poni: 60 traditional.

ouagadougou.

Musée de la Musique: 100 Burkina Fasoan.

Art et artisanat Voltaíques (n.d.); Dernières acquisitions (n.d.); Objets culturels voltaíques (n.d.); Témoignages culturels Voltaíques à Loudun (n.d.); ‘Exhibitions: Burkina Faso’, CIMCIM Bulletin, no.40 (1999)

burundi

gitega.

Musée National de Gitega: Central African

cambodia

phnom penh.

Musée National de Phnom Penh: Cambodian

cameroon

bamenda.

Musée de Bamenda: 95 Cameroon.

foumban.

Musée du Palais Royal: c100 Cameroon.

C. Geary: Les choses du Palais (1983); N.A. Njiasse: ‘Funérailles traditionnelles du Munchili’, Revue Science et Technique (1985); N.A. Njiasse: L’ensemble artistique royal de Foumban (1990); Sonidos de America (1995)

yaoundé.

Musée de la Danse et de la Musique

canada

arva, on.

Henry Meredith collection: c1800, mostly brass winds.

calgary.

Calgary Keyboard Center: 210 incl. Enedy and Garlick collections.

calgary.

Glenbow-Alberta Institute: 950 Western and ethnological.

edmonton, ab.

Provincial Museum and Archives of Alberta: c540 European, North American, Asian and African.

hauteville, pq.

Musée de l’Amérique Française: c200 mostly Henri Dorion collection.

hull, pq.

Ethnology Division, Canadian Museum of Civilization (formerly National Museum of Man): c1325 (1150 Native North American, remainder Latin American, Aisan, South Pacific and African).

B. Cavanagh: Music of the Netsilik Eskimo: a Study of Stability and Change (1982) [incl disc]; M.M. Lutz: Musical Traditions of the Labrador Coast Inuit (Ottowa, 1982); R. Witmer: The Musical Life of the Blood Indians (Ottowa, 1982)

hull, pq.

Ethnomusicology Programme, Canadian Museum of Civilization: c650 Western art, popular, traditional; Latin American, Western Asian, many Southeast Asian, Middle Eastern and African.

R. Carlisle: Folk Music in Canada (1974); R.W. Gibbons: The CCFCS Collection of Musical Instruments: Canadian Centre for Folk Culture Studies (1982–4); C. Bégin and C. Nebel: Opus: the Making of Musical Instruments in Canada (1992) [exhibition catalogue]

hull, pq.

History Division, Canadian Museum of Civilization: c115 Western art, several non-Western.

kitchener, on.

Doon Heritage Crossroads (formerly Doon Pioneer Village): c40 Western.

minesing, on.

Simcoe County Museum: c35 Western art.

montreal.

Redpath Museum, McGill University: c170 mainly Central African, also Middle Eastern, Asian, Oceanian and South American.

st john, nb.

New Brunswick Museum: c75 Western (North American and European), African and Asian.

toronto.

Royal Ontario Museum: over 300 European art incl. Richard Sugden Williams collection.

L. Cselenyi: Musical Instruments in the Royal Ontario Museum (1969); ‘A New Gallery of Musical Instruments’, CIMCIM Newsletter, no.12 (1985); C. Rogers: ‘Early Instruments at the Royal Ontario Museum’, Musick, xiii/2 (1991), 21–2

vancouver.

Museum of Anthropology, University of British Columbia: c660 worldwide, half Northwest Coast Native American.

vancouver.

Vancouver Museum (formerly Vancouver Centennial Museum): c207 worldwide ethnological, half Native North American.

victoria, bc.

Royal British Columbia Museum (formerly Provincial Museum): c420 Native North American.

yarmouth, ns.

Yarmouth County Society Museum: c40 Western used locally

central african republic

bangui.

Musée Barthélémy Boganda: 65 Central African

chad

abéché.

Musée National Abéché

chile

santiago.

Museo Chileno de Arte Precolombino: 100 pre-Hispanic, 40 ethnological.

V.T. Mendoza: ‘Musica precolombino en América’, Interamericano de musica, iv (1938); J. Pérez de Arce: La música en América precolombina (1982) [exhibition catalogue]; J. Pérez de Arce: ‘Cronología de los instrumentos sonoros del área extremo sur andina’, Revista musical chilena, xl (1986), 68–124; J. Pérez de Arce: ‘Flautas arqueológicas del extremo sur andino’, Boletín del Museo chileno de arte precolombino, no.2 (1987); J. Pérez de Arce: ‘Organología prehispánica de Chile’, Culturas prehispánicas de Chile, ii (1993); Musica en la piedra: musica prehispanica y sus ecos en Chile actual (1995); Sounds of America (1995)

china

beijing.

Ancient Bell Museum, Great Bell Temple

beijing.

Exhibition Hall, Cultural Palace of Nationalities

beijing.

Palace Museum

changsha.

Hunan Provincial Museum

hong kong.

University Museum and Art Gallery

Gems of Ancient Chinese Zithers: Shum’s Collection of Antique Qin from the Last Millenium (1998) [exhibition catalogue]

shenyang.

Palace Museum

urumxi.

Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Regional Museum

wuhan.

Hubei Provincial Museum

Chen Cheng Yi, Tan Wei-Si and Shu Zhi-Mei, eds.: Two-Tone Set-Bells of Marquis Yi (Singapore, 1994)

colombia

bogotá.

José Ignacio Perdomo Escobar Collection

E. Bermúdez: Catálogo: colección de instrumentos musicales ‘J.I. Perdomo Escobar’ (1986)

bogotá.

Museo Arqueológico y Ethnologico, Instituto Colombiano de Antropología: Colombian.

bogotá.

Museo Organilógico Folklórico Musical: 110 Colombian.

medellín.

Museo Universitario: 80 Colombian

congo

brazzaville.

Musée National Congolais: Congoan

croatia

split.

Etnografski Muzej u Splitu [Ethnographical Museum, Split]: c140 regional traditional.

zagreb.

Etnografski Muzej [Ethnographical Museum]: c750 Croatian, Serbian, Slovenian, and Bosnian Herzegovinan, European traditional and Non-European.

Etnografický Ústav Moravského Zemského Muzea [Ethnographic Division, Moravian Regional Museum]: 490 worldwide.

brno.

Moravský Zemský Muzeum [Moravian Regional Museum]: 350 Eastern European.

brno.

Technické Múzeum [Technical Museum]

A. Buchner: Průvodce expozicí hudebních automatofonu 19. století [Guide to the exhibition of mechanical instruments] (c1975)

kraslice.

Strědní Průmyslová Škola Výroby Hudebních Nástrojů v Kraslicích [Secondary School for Musical Instrument Making, Kraslice]: 400 European.

opava.

Slezské Zemské Múzeum [Silesia Regional Museum]: 200 European many bowed.

prague.

Muzeum České Hudby, Národní Muzeum v Praze [Museum of Czech Music, National Museum]: 2800 art, traditional.

Führer durch die Sammlungen des Museums des Königreiches Böhmen in Prag (1897); A. Buchner: Průvodce výstavou české hudební nástroje minulosti v brnovském klášteře sv. Markety [A guide to the exhibition of Czech musical instruments of the past in the monastery of St Marketa] (1950); A. Buchner: Průvodce sbírkami hudebního oddělení Národního muzea, Praha, Velkopřevorský palác [A guide to the collections of the music division of the National Museum, Prague, Velkopřevorský Palace] (1954); A. Buchner: Průvodce výstavou české hudební nástroje v Nelahozevsi [A guide to the exhibition of Czech musical instruments in Nelahozeves] (1959); Hudební nástroje v Národním muzeu [Musical instruments in the National Museum] (1970); E. Hradecký and others: Catalogue expozice: národní muzeum, Praha (1971); O. Oromszegi: ‘Bassoons at the Národní Museum’, GSJ, xxiv (1971), 96–101; Museum of Musical Instruments (1973); J. Keller: ‘Píštělníci a trubaři’ [Pipers and trumpeters], Sborník Národního Muzea v Praze, xxix/4–5 (1975), 161–243; M. Puklický: ‘Die Holzblasinstrumente des Nationalmuseums Prag’, Holzblasinstrumente des 17. und 18. Jahrhunderts: Blankenburg, Harz, 1985, 39–42; J. Keller: ‘Antique Trumpet Mutes’, HBSJ, ii (1990), 97–103; L. Kunz and V. Štajnochr: Nástroje lidové hudby ve sbírkách pražských muzeí [Folk musical instruments in the collections of Prague museums] (1990); B. Čížek: Klavichordy v českých zemích [Clavicords in the Czech lands] (1993); 300 Years with the Pianoforte (1999) [in Cz., Eng., Ger.]

prague.

Náprstkovo Muzeum: 730 Asian, Oceanian, African and American ethnological.

V. Kubica: ‘Al-Id-al-Kabir’, Náprstkovo muzeum annals (1973); V. Kubica: ‘Africké rytmy’, Náprstkovo múzeum annals (1979)

prague.

Národní Technické Muzeum [National Technical Museum]: 110 automatic.

A. Buchner: ‘České automatofony’, Sborník Národního muzea v Praze (1957)

prague.

Národopisné Oddělení [Ethnographical Department of the Historical Museum]: 400 Czech traditional.

prague.

Vojenské Muzeum [Military Museum]: 100 mainly European signal

denmark

århus.

Købstadmuseet ‘Den gamle by’ [The Old Town]: 70 mainly Danish.

H. Nyrop-Christensen: Klavier i ‘Den gamle by’ (1965); H. Nyrop-Christensen: Musikhistoriske Randbemaerkninger (1983)

copenhagen.

Musikhistorisk Museum og Carl Claudius’ Samling: 2200 art, traditional, ethnological and archaeological.

A. Hammerich: Musikhistorisk Museum (1911); G. Skjerne: Carl Claudius’ samling af gamle musikinstrumenter (1931); M. Andersen: Supplement zum katalog von Angul Hammerich (1960); M. Müller: Classical Indian Musical Instruments (1969); M. Müller: From Bone Pipe and Cattlehorn to Fiddle and Psaltery (1972); M. Müller: Trak & tryk & pust & sug (1971); M. Müller: Keramik med musik (1974); M. Müller: Musik og mennesker i Thailands bjerge (1975); Meddelelser, i–iv (1980–94); A Norborg: Musical Instruments from Africa South of the Sahara (1982); Flauto traverso (1984); M. Müller: ‘Musikhistorisk Museum og Carl Claudius’ samling’, CIMCIM Newsletter (1986) [special issue]; Masser of messing (1990); Mandolin i Danmark (1991); The Power of the Harp (1993); M. Müller and L. Torp: Musikkens tjenere-instrument-forsker-musiker (1998)

copenhagen.

Nationalmuseet, Etnografisk Samling: 2425 ethnological from all continents, incl. Lapland.

copenhagen.

Nationalmuseet [prehistoric and medieval collections]: 40 incl. 15 lures.

lyngby, copenhagen.

Dansk Landbrugsmuseum: 250 mainly European and Asian cowbells

ecuador

cuenca.

Museo de las Artes Populares de America: 120 Andean.

quito.

Museo de Instrumentos Musicales ‘Pablo Traversari’

Museo de instrumentos musicales ‘Pedro Pablo Traversari’ (1971); R. Rephann: Catalogue of the Pedro Traversari Collection (Wahington DC, 1978)

egypt

cairo.

Mathaf al-Misri (Egyptian Museum): c90 ancient Egyptian.

H. Hickmann: Catalogue général des antiquités égyptiennes du Musée du Caire: instruments de musique (1949); L. Manniche: Ancient Egyptian Musical Instruments (Munich, 1975); R. Engelbach: Introduction to Egyptian Archaeology with a Special Reference to the Egyptian Museum (1988)

cairo.

Museum of the Institute of Arabic Music: Egyptian art and traditional incl. historic ouds

estonia

tallinn.

Eesti Teatri-Ja Muusikamuuseum [Museum for Music and Theater]: c600 Eastern European art, traditional.

Muzeij teatra i muzyki (1971); Orelid ja osjapillid, pasunad ja parmupillid, muusikainstrumente Teatri-ja Muusika-muuseumis Tallinn [Musical Instruments in the Theatre and Music Museum: Catalogue] (1978)

tartu.

State Ethnographic Museum of Estonian: c380 traditional.

J. Sööt: Kuuekeelne kanel (1990)

ethiopia

addis ababa.

Institute of Ethiopian Studies, Department of Ethnography and Ancient Arts, Addis Ababa University: 200 Ethiopian.

fiji

suva, viti levu.

Fiji Museum: 120 Fijian

finland

helsinki.

Suomen Kansallismuseo: 800 European art, traditional and ethnological.

kaustinen.

Kausanmusikki Institutti: 300 Finnish traditional.

turku.

Åbo Landskapsmuseum [Provincial Museum of Turku]: c75 Finnish traditional and European.

turku.

Sibelius-Museo: 850 European art and traditional, African.

The Swedish University of Turku/Åbo, Sibelius Museum: Guide (1963, many later edns)

varkaus.

Mechanical Music Museum: 250.

france

l’aigle.

Musée Marcel Angot: 90 worldwide.

angoulême.

Musée Municipal: 225 prehistoric, African and from Madagascar.

arles.

Muséon Arlaten: 120 mostly Provençal.

avignon.

Musée Calvet: 75 Provençal, European, African, and North and South American.

bayonne.

Musée Basque: 38 Basque.

Bulletin du Musée Basque

bordeaux.

Musée d’Aquitaine: 145 from Landes and Gironde regions, prehistoric, African and Asian.

bordeaux.

Musée d’Ethnographie, Université de Bordeaux

S. Fürniss: Instruments de musique et objets sonores (1994) [catalogue]

bourg-en-bresse.

Musée de Brou: 30 hurdy-gurdies.

La vielle en Bresse (1985) [exhibition catalogue]; L. Moyret: ‘Les vielles de Jousé lo Ménétri’, Art et archéologie en Rhône-Alpes (1986)

bourg-la-reine.

Aristide Wirsta collection: 100 French bows.

cannes.

Musée de la Castre et de la Mer: 300 European traditional, Central African, Asian, Polynesian and Central American.

chartres.

Musée des Beaux-Arts: c10 keyboards, on loan from Kenneth Gilbert collection.

la couture-boussey.

Musée Jaques Hotteterre (formerly Communal d’Instruments de Musique à Vent): 240 wind.

F. Gétreau: ‘Le Musée instrumental de La-Couture-Boussey’, Tourneurs sur bois et manufactures d’instruments à vents en Haute Normandie (Paris, 1980), 18–19, 31–33

ecouen.

Musée Nationale de la Renaissance: 20 Renaissance European transferred from Musée de Cluny.

E. du Sommerard: ‘Classe xvi: instruments de musique’, Catalogue et description des objets d’art, de l’antiquité, du moyen âge et de la Renaissance exposés (Paris, 1883); E.A. Grillet de Givry: Notice sur les instruments de musique exposés au Musée de Cluny (1914); E. Haraucourt: Musée des thermes et de l’hôtel de Cluny: catalogue des bois, sculptés et meubles (1925)

gien.

Musée International de la Chasse: c60 horns.

ivry-la-bataille.

François Camboulive collection in Thibouville manufactory: 250 wind.

jenzat, allier.

Les Amis de la Vielle de Jenzat, Centre de Recherche sur les musiques traditionnelles: from Berry-Bourbonnias and the Auvergne.

jenzat, allier.

Jean Michel Renard collection: 250 cornemuses and related instruments.

lille.

Musée Regional de l’Hospice Comtesse (formerly the collection of Joseph and Pierre Hel, violin makers): c80 European art.

A. Cordonnier and others: La collection Hel, instruments de musique anciens réunis par deux luthiers lillois (1990) [exhibition catalogue]

lourdes.

Musée Pyrénéen: c40.

lyons.

Musée Africain: 225.

lyons.

Eric Montbel collection: 112 mostly French bagpipes.

E. Montbel and A. Ricros: Bouscatel, roi des cabretaires: les origines du bal-musette (1984) [incl. disc]

mcon.

Musée des Ursulines: 35 African.

E. Montbel: Le roseau et la musique (1988)

marseilles.

Musée Grobet-Labadie: 60 mostly Provençal.

mirecourt.

Musée de la Lutherie: stringed instruments and bows

montebéliard.

Musée du Château: c70 prehistoric, European art, music boxes, African and Asian.

montluçon.

Musée du Vieux-Château: c400 French hurdy-gurdies, bagpipes and fanfare.

nancy.

Musée Historique Lorrain: c40 incl. prehistoric, European art and traditional.

nantes.

Musée du Château des Ducs de Bretagne: 68 worldwide.

nice.

Musée d’Art et d’Histoire, Palais Masséna: 300 Provençal and Italian.

M. Thomas: Clavecins et clavicordes: catalogue d’exposition (1978); M. Foussard: ‘Catalogue sommaire des guitares du musée instrumental de Nice’, Guitares: chefs-d’oeuvre des collections de France, ed. T. Evans and others (Paris, 1980), 271–94; ‘Un siècle de musique à Nice’, Nice historique, ii–iii (1994)

nice.

Villa Beau-Site: Paul and Gisèle Tissier collection.

R. Covington: ‘Musical Interlude’, Art & Antiques, xvi/2 (1994), 42–7

paris.

Bruno Kampmann collection: 350 wind, mostly brass, incl. some by A. Sax.

B. Kampmann: Catalogue de la collection d’instruments de musique à vent: I (1986); B. Kampmann: Catalogue de la collection d’instruments de musique à vent: II, Bulletin Larigot, no.1 (1991) [special issue]; B. Kampmann: Catalogue de la collection d’instruments de musique à vent: III, Bulletin Larigot, no.9 (1998) [special issue]

paris.

Département des Antiquités Egyptiennes, Musée du Louvre: c130 ancient Egyptian.

paris.

Département des Objects d’Art, Musée du Louvre: 20 European.

paris.

Musée de la Musique, Cité de la Musique, la Villette (formerly Musée Instrumental du Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique): c4200 European and c300 extra-European; incl. Clapisson, part of Tagore (Indian), de Bricqueville, Tolbecque, André de Meyer and Geneviève Thibault de Chambure collections.

G. Chouquet: Le Musée du Conservatoire national de musique: catalogue raisonné des instruments de cette collection (1875, suppl. 1884/R, 1899, 1903); G. Thibault, J. Jenkins and J. Bran-Ricci: Eighteenth Century Musical Instruments: France and Britain/Les instruments de musique au XVIIIe siècle: France et Grand-Bretagne (London, 1973) [exhibition catalogue]; ‘La facture instrumentale’, Metiers d’art, x–xi (1980), 8–144; ‘La plastique des objets du son: la somptueuse collection Thibault de Chambure’, Connaissance des arts, no.345 (1980); F. Abondance [Gétreau]: ‘Catalogue sommaire des guitares du Musée instrumental’, Guitares: chefs-d’oeuvres des collections de France, ed. T. Evans and others (1980), 307–20; F. Lesure and others: Musiques anciennes: instruments et partitions donnés à l’etat en paiement de droits de succession (1980) [exhibition catalogue]; Les instruments de musique, 1750–1800 (Saintes, 1982) [exhibition catalogue]; Rameau: le coloris instrumental, Paris (1983) [exhibition catalogue]; La facture instrumental européenne: suprématies nationales et enrichissement mutuel (1985) [exhibition catalogue]; J. Bran-Ricci, ed.: ‘Instruments à archet de la collection G. Thibault de Chambure, entrés au Musée instrumental du Conservatoire national supérieur de musique de Paris’, Instruments et musique instrumentale (1986), 225–37; F. Gétreau: Instrumentistes et luthiers parisiens XVIIe–XIXe siècle (1988); Musée instrumental du Conservatoire national supérieur de musique de Paris: liste provisoire des pianos (1989) [typescript]; F. Gétreau: Inventaire descriptif des flûtes traversières: Musée instrumental du CNSM de Paris (1989) [typescript]; Musée de la musique: Handbook (1995); F. Gétreau: Aux Origines du Musée de la musique: le Musée instrumental du Conservatoire de Paris, 1793–1993 (1995); F. Gétreau: Aux origines du Musée de la musique: les collections instrumentales du Conservatoire de Paris, 1793–1993 (1996); Musée de la Musique: guide (1997); M-F. Calas: ‘Musée de la musique: a Museum in the Cité’, AMIS Newsletter, xxvi/3 (1997), 1–4; Violins, Vuillaume, 1798-1875, un maître luthier français du XIXe siècle (1998) [exhibition catalogue]

paris.

Musée National des Arts et Traditions Populaires: 3200 mainly French traditional.

Yannick Guillou collection: c20 mainly keyboards.

C. Mercier-Ythier: Les clavecins (1990); A. and M.-C. Anselm: ‘La collection Yannick Guillou’, Musique – Images – Instruments, no.2 (1997), 116–48

périgueux.

Musée du Périgord: 80 European, African, Near Eastern, Oceanian, Latin American and from Madagascar.

perpignan.

Musée de la Casa Pairal: 277.

rennes.

Musée d’Art et d’Histoire: c80 French, African and Asian traditional.

sainte maxime.

Musée du Phonographie et de la Musique Mécanique: 800 mechanical.

saint germain-en-laye.

Musée

M. Daubresse: La musique au musée de Saint-Germain-en-Laye (1912)

saint michel-sur-orge.

Bachet collection: c50 created by the Bachet Brothers.

strasbourg.

Musée des Arts Décoratifs: c60 regional art.

le thoronet.

Jacques Dudon [inventor] collection: 225 water, photosonic and acoustic.

J. Dudon: La musique de l’eau (1982); T. Nunn: ‘Water and Light’, Experimental Musical Instruments, iii/5 (1988); J. Dudon: ‘Musiques harmoniques’, 1/1 Just Intonation, v/3 (1989), 10, 14–15

toulouse.

Musée Paul Dupuy: c60 European art and traditional.

tulle.

Musée du Cloître: c25 mostly free-reed, incl. P. Monichon collection.

P. Monichon: L’accordéon (Paris, 1971)

versailles.

Musée et Domaine National de Versailles et de Trianon, Château: 2 harpsichords, J. Ruckers (1628 and 1706) and François Blanchet (1746)

french polynesia

papeete, tahiti.

Musée de Papeete: c25 from Pacific Islands, esp. Marquesan and Fijian.

A. Lavondes: Catalogue des collections ethnographiques et archeologiques (1966)

punaauia, tahiti.

Musée de Tahiti et des Iles: c40 regional

gabon

libreville.

Musée des Arts et Traditions du Gabon: c100 from Equatorial forest region.

P. Sallée: ‘Les arts musicaux au Gabon’, Gabon: culture et techniques, ed. L. Perrois and others (1969)

gambia

banjul.

National Museum: c35 Gambian

georgia

tbilisi.

State Museum of Georgia: 700 Georgian and other Caucasian.

D. Arakchishvili: Opisanie i obmer narodnykh muzylak'nykh istrumentov (1940)

tbilisi.

Museum of Folk Instruments: 500 Georgian, other Caucasian, Eastern and Western European

germany

albstadt-ebingen.

Musikhistorische Sammlung [Martin] Jehle, Stauffenbergschloss: 120 European esp. keyboards, and extra-European.

Schloss Lautlingen: die Schenken von Stauffenberg musikhistorisches Sammlung Jehle (1985)

Bengt Fosshag collection: 150 folk and traditional lutes.

frankfurt.

Historisches Museum der Stadt Frankfurt-am-Main: c200 European.

P. Epstein: Katalog der Musikinstrumente im historischen Museum der Stadt Frankfurt am Main (1927)

frankfurt.

Museum für Völkerkunde: 400 mainly non-European.

frankfurt.

Peter Spohr collection: 300 transverse European and North American flutes.

K. Reichman and P. Spohr: Flöten aus fünf Jahrhundert (1982); P. Spohr. Kunsthandwerk im Dienste der Musik (1991) [exhibition catalogue]; K. Lenski and K. Ventzke: Das goldene Zeitalter der Flöte, Frankreich 1832–1932 (1993)

frankfurt an der oder.

Staatliche Reka-Sammlung die Historische Musikinstrumente am Bezirksmuseum Viadrina: c400 incl. many bowed string instruments with original fittings.

Raritäten und Kuriositäten (1981); B. Kaiser-Reka: ‘Die Staatliche REKA-Sammlung historischer Musikinstrumente’, Bulletin, xiv (1978), 58–64; H. Heyde: Historische Musikinstrumente: Reka-Sammlung Museum Viadrina, Frankfurt/O. [1989]

fuldatal.

Mechanisches Musik-Museum

füssen.

Heimatmuseum: c40 regional string instruments.

R. Bletschacher: Die Lauten- und Geigenmacher des Füssener Landes (Hofheim, 1978); A. Layer: Die Allgäuer Lauten- und Geigenmacher (Augsburg, 1978); C. Kahle: ‘Die Instrumentensammlung des Füssener Heimatmuseums’, Jb des historischen Veriens Alt Füssen (1982), 95–8

garbsen.

Rolf Irle collection: 1300 worldwide sounding objects, incl. toys.

gotha.

Museum für Regionalgeschichte und Volkskunde: c75 European.

göttingen.

Ethnographische Sammlung, Instituts für Völkerkunde der Georg-August-Universität Göttingen: 600 non-European, mainly African.

göttingen.

Musikinstrumentensammlung des Musikwissenschaftlichen Instituts, Georg-August-Universität Göttingen: 1400 European, African, ancient Egyptian, American and Oceanian incl. the Hermann Moeck Sr., Hans Hickmann, Kurt and Ursula Reinhard, and other collections.

K.-P. Brenner: Musikinstrumente aus den Beständen des musikwissenschaftlichen Seminars der Georg-August-Universität Göttingen (1986) [exhibition catalogue]; K.-P. Brenner: Musikinstrumente Europas, Asiens und Afrikas aus den Beständen des musikwissenschaftlichen Seminars der Georg-August-Universität Göttingen (1987) [exhibition catalogue]; K.-P. Brenner: Erlesne Musikinstrumente aus der Sammlung Beständen des musikwissenschaftlichen Seminars der Georg-August-Universität Göttingen (1989)

goslar.

Musikinstrumenten-Museum Walter Erdmann: c1000 worldwide.

halle.

Händel-Haus: c600 mainly European art, esp. keyboards, incl. parts of the Neupert and Rück collections.

K. Sasse: Das Händel-Haus in Halle (1958); Katalog zu den Sammlungen des Händel-Hauses (1961–86); K. Sasse: ‘Die Musikinstrumentensammlung im Händelhaus Halle’, Bulletin (1978); K. Sasse: ‘Das Händelhaus in Halle’, Neue Museumskunde, xxii/2 (1979), 93–101; H. Heyde: Historisches Musikinstrumenten des Händel-Hauses: Führer durch die Ausstellungen (1983)

Völkerkunde-Museum der J. und E. von Portheim-Stiftung: 100 African, Asian and Oceanian.

hersbruck.

Deutsches Hirtenmuseum: 150 pastoral.

ingolstadt.

Bayerisches Armeemuseum: military and Ingolstadt Frauenkirche collection.

G. Hart: ‘Die Musikinstrumentensammlung im Schlossmuseum zu Ingolstadt/Donau’, Glareana, xvii/1 (1968), 2–7

kiel.

Museum für Völkerkunde, Christian-Albrechts Universität zu Kiel: ethnological from Oceania, East Asia and Africa.

kisslegg:

Neues Schloss: Willy Schneider collection.

M.H. Schmid: Musikinstrumentensammlung Willy Schneider, Gesamtverz (1990)

leipzig.

Museum für Völkerkunde: c300 non-European.

leipzig.

Musikinstrumentenmuseum der Universität Leipzig: 5000 mainly European art and traditional incl. Heyer, de Wit, Rudolf Ibach (keyboards), and Alessandro Kraus collections.

A. Kraus: Musée Kraus à Florence: catalogue des instruments de musique anciens et modernes du Musée Kraus (Florence, 1878); P. de Wit: Perlen aus der Instrumentensammlung von Paul de Wit (1892); P. de Wit: Kurzgefaszter Katalog aller im musikhistorischen Museum von Paul de Wit vorhandelen Musik-Instrumente (1893); A. Kraus, ed.: Catalogo della collezione etnografico-musicale Kraus in Firenze: sezione instrumenti musicali (Florence, 1901); P. de Wit: Katalog des musikhistorischen Museums von Paul de Wit (1903); G. Kinsky: Musikhistorisches Museum von Wilhelm Heyer in Köln (1910–13); H. Schultz: Führer durch das musikwissenschaftliche Instrumentenmuseum der Universität Leipzig (1929); P. Rubardt: Führer durch das Musikinstrumentemuseum der Karl-Marx-Universität Leipzig (1955, 2/1964); W. Schrammek: Musikinstrumente aus dem Musikinstrumenten-Museum der Karl-Marx Universität: Einführung und Erläuterungen (1970); W. Schrammek: Museum Musicum (1976); H. Zeraschi: Geschichte des Museums (1977); H. Heyde: Flöteninstrumente (1978); H. Zeraschi: ‘Das Musikinstrumenten-Museum’, Bulletin (1978); W. Gerstenberg: ‘Souvenir of 30th May 1929: the Fiftieth Birthday of the Leipzig Museum of Musical Instruments’, CIMCIM Newsletter, no.7 (1979); H. Henkel: Kielinstrumente (1979); H. Henkel: ‘Musikinstrumenten-Museum der Karl-Marx-Universität, Leipzig: Geschichte und Aufgaben’, Neue Museumskunde: Theorie und Praxis der Museumsarbeit, xxii/2 (1979); H. Heyde: Trompeten, Posaunen, Tuben (1980); H. Henkel: Clavichorde (1981); W. Schrammek: Museum Musicum: historische Musikinstrumente (1981); H. Heyde: Hörner und Zinken (1982); K. Gernhardt, H. Henkel and W. Schrammek: Orgel-Instrumente, Harmoniums (1983); H. Heyde: Musikinstrumentenbau 15.–19. Jahrhunderts, Kunst-Handwerk-Entwurf (1986); A. Michel: Zithern: Musikinstrumente zwischen Volkskultur und Bürgerlichkeit (1995) [exhibition catalogue]; E. Fontana, B. Heise: Für Aug’ und Ohren gleich erfreulich: Musikinstrumente aus fünf Jahrhunderten (1998)

leitzenburg;

see berlin Schloss Charlottenburg, above

lindau.

F.W. Kalina Collection: mechanical instruments.

linz am rhein.

Musik Museum, Karl Fischer collection: c80 mechanical instruments.

lissberg, hessen.

Musikinstrumentenmuseum Lissberg: c900 Western art, original and reproductions, incl. bagpipe collection.

lübeck.

Museum für Kunst und Kulturgeschichte der Hansestadt Lübeck, St. Annen Museum: 150 mostly regional string and brass, incl. 17th- and 18th-century instruments from St. Marienkirche.

G. Karstädt: ‘Blasinstrumente des Barocks’, Musica, iv (1950), 460–62; G. Karstädt: Die Sammlung alter Musikinstrumente im St. Annen-Museum (1959)

Museum der Stadt Regensburg: c50 European art and traditional.

rüdesheim am rhein.

Siegfrieds Mechanisches Musikkabinett: c300 mechanical.

S. Wendel: Das mechanische Musikkabinett (Dortmund, 1982)

siegen.

Glocken-Museum Eiserfeld: c900 worldwide bells.

sigmaringen.

Fürstlich-Hohenzollernsches Museum: 65 mainly wind.

F.P. Bär: Die Sammlung der Musikinstrumente im Fürstlich-Hohenzollernschen Schloss zu Sigmaringen an der Donau: Katalog (Tutzing, 1994)

sinsheim.

Auto & Technik Museum: c75 primarily mechanical.

sondershausen.

Schlossmuseum Sondershausen: 54, incl. early keyboards.

stuttgart.

Linden-Museum: non-European.

stuttgart.

Württembergisches Landesmuseum: 500 European art, esp. keyboards, incl. gifts from founder Carl Anton Pfeiffer, Georg Steingraeber, Eugen Gärtner and Fabrik Schiedmayer & Söhne collection.

H. Josten: Württembergisches Landesgewerbemuseum: die Sammlung der Musikinstrumente (1928); H.J. Modrey: ‘Important Keyboards in Stuttgart Museum’, AMIS Newsletter, xiv/1 (1985); M.H. Schmid: ‘Kielklaviere und Clavichorde im Württembergischen Landesmuseum Stuttgart’, Clavichord und Cembalo: Blankenburg, Harz, 1985, 33–7; Musikinstrumentensammlung im Fruchtkasten Begleitbuch (1993)

trossingen.

Harmonikamuseum: mouth and hand harmonicas.

uhingen.

Thomas Reil collection: c500 clarinets.

waldkirch, freiburg.

Elztalmuseum: mechanical incl. musical clocks.

wasserburg am inn.

Kunst- und Kulturgesichte Sammlungen, Museum Wasserburg

F. Thomas: ‘Das älteste deutsches Virginal in Wasserburg am Inn: Restaurierung und Entdekkund der Signatur an lässlich der Restauration’, Musik in Bayern, xxv (1982), 53–6; F. Thomas: ‘Ein rätselhaftes Musikinstrument des 19. Jahrhundert’, Festschrift für J.H. van der Meer, ed. F. Hellwig (Tutzing, 1987), 416–65

zwickau.

Robert-Schuman-Haus

M. Schope: ‘Das Robert-Schuman-Haus in Zwickau’, Neue Museumskunde: Theorie und Praxis der Museumsarbeit, xxii/2 (1979), 102–8

ghana

accra.

Ghana National Museum: 275 African.

legon.

Institute of African Studies, University of Ghana: c90 Ghanaian.

K.M. Labi: Museum (1992)

greece

athens.

Mouseio Laikon Organon: c1200 Greek traditional incl. the Fivos Anoyanakis collection.

F. Anoyanakis: Instruments de musique populaires grecs (1965); F. Anoyanakis: Greek Popular Musical Instruments (1979) [exhibition catalogue]; F. Anoyanakis: Greek Folk Musical Instruments (New Rochelle, NY, 1979)

athens.

Nicolas Papageorgiou collection: 300 worldwide traditional.

athens.

Research Center of Greek Folklore, Academy of Athens: c80 Greek traditional.

nafplion.

Peloponnesian Folklore Foundation: c250 Greek traditional

guatemala

guatemala.

Museo Nacional de Arqueologia y Etnologia: over 50 pre-Columbian and traditional.

M.J.B. Camposeco: Téson, chinab' o k'ojom/The Marimba of Guatemala (1992)

guinea

nzerékoré.

Musée Regional de Nzerékoré

hungary

budapest.

András and József Birinyi collection: c210 European and traditional.

J. Manga: Magyar nepdalok, nepi hangszerek [Hungarian folk songs and folk instruments] (1969; Eng. trans., 1969)

budapest.

Iparművészeti Múzeum [Museum of Applied Arts]: c25 esp. keyboards.

budapest.

Liszt Ferenc Zeneművészeti Főiskola [Ferenc Liszt Academy of Music]: c100 woodwinds and string instruments, and keyboards belonging to Liszt.

Liszt Ferenc Memorial Museum (1986) [catalogue]; G. Gábry: ‘Franz Liszts Klaviere’, Studia Musicologica, xvii (1978); G. Keeling: ‘The Liszt Pianos: some Aspects of Preference and Technology’, New Hungarian Quarterly, xxvii (1986), 220–32

budapest.

Magyar Nemzeti Múzeum Hangszergyűjteménye [Hungarian National Museum, Collection of Musical Instruments]: c500 European, incl. Delahes (string and keyboard), Schunda (wind) and Cathedral of Győr (18th-century wind) collection.

G. Gábry: Régi hangszerek [Old musical instruments] (1969; Eng. trans., 1969); G. Gábry: ‘The Evolution of the Hungarian National Museum Music Collection’, SMH, xiv (1972); E. Gát-Fontana: ‘Die Musikinstrumentensammlung des Ungarischen Nationalmuseums’, CIMCIM Newsletter, no.7 (1979); E. Gát Fontana: ‘“Möly musica fiola gambának hivattatik”: Régi vonós hangszerek a Magyar nemzeti múzeumban’, Folia historica, ix (1981), 27–45; E. Gát: ‘Pest-Budai zongorakészítők’ [Keyboard-Instrument Makers in Pest and Buda], Tanulmányok Budapest Múltjából, xxiii (1991), 147–259

budapest.

Magyar Néprajzi Múzeum Népzenei Gyűjteménye [Hungarian Ethnographic Museum, Music Collection]: 1600 traditional and ethnological incl. the Biró collection.

T. Bodrogi: Yabim Drums in the Biró Collection (1950); A Néprajzi Múzeum i: hangszerkiállításának hanglemezes katalógusa (1966)

budapest.

Magyar Tudományos Akadémia Művészettörténeti Kuatatóintézet [Institute for Musicology of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences]. c110 traditional European

budapest.

Magyar Tudományos Akadémia Zenetörténeti Múzeu [Hungarian Academy of Sciences, Music History Museum]: c200 European art and traditional.

budapest.

Tibor Semmelweis collection: 40 Hungarian violins, 25 tárogátos.

eggenburg.

Krahuletz Museum: European winds.

P.T. Young: ‘Letter from Europe’, AMIS Newsletter, xxi/3 (1992)

kecskemét.

Leskowsky Hangszergyűjtemény [Leskowsky Collection of Musical Instruments]: c700 Hungarian traditional and Non-European.

sopron.

Soproni Múzeum [Museum of Sopron]: c40 incl. Liszt’s 1864 piano

india

ahmedabad, gujarat.

Maharaja Museum and Picture Gallery

alwar.

Government Archaeological and Art Museum: c100 Indian.

Catalogue and Guide of Museum [n.d.]; Arms-Museum [n.d.]

amreli, gujarat.

Shri Girdharbhai Sangranalaya, Children’s Museum

S.K. Bhowmik and J. Mudrika: The Heritage of Musical Instruments: a Catalogue of Musical Instruments in the Museums of Gujarat (1990)

baroda, gujarat.

College of Indian Music, Dance and Dramatics: c150 Gujarat traditional.

S.K. Bhowmik and J. Mudrika: The Heritage of Musical Instruments: a Catalogue of Musical Instruments in the Museums of Gujarat (1990)

baroda, gujarat.

Museum and Picture Gallery: over 100.

calcutta.

Marbel Palace Art Gallery and Zoo

calcutta.

Rabindra Bharati Museum

chhindwara.

Madhya Pradesh State Tribal Museum

delhi.

Anthropology Museum, University of Delhi

dharampur, gujarat.

P. Sambamoorthy: Catalogue of Musical Instruments Exhibited in the Madras Government Museum (1932, 2/1976)

madras.

Sangita Vadyalaya: 250 mainly Indian.

P. Sambamoorthy: Struti Vadyas, Drones (New Dehli, 1957); P. Sambamoorthy: Laya Vadyas (New Dehli, 1959)

murshidabad, w. bengal.

Hazarduary Palace Museum

mysore, karnataka.

Museum of Art and Archaeology, University of Mysore

nagpur, maharashtra.

Central Museum: c50 tribal.

new delhi.

National Handicrafts & Handlooms Museum

new dehli.

National Museum of India

new dehli.

Sangeet Natak Akademi: over 600, mainly Indian traditional.

Indian Folk Musical Instruments [n.d.]

new dehli.

Sharan Rani Backliwal (sarod master) Gallery of Musical Instruments, National Museum: c400 Indian.

patiala, punjab.

Sheesh Mahal Art Gallery

pudukkottai, tamil nadu.

Government Museum

pune, maharashtra.

Raja Dinkar Kelkar Museum: c500 Indian art and traditional.

pune, maharashtra.

Tribal Welfare Museum

rajkot, gujarat.

Watson Museum: c35 Indian.

S.K. Bhowmik and J. Mudrika: The Heritage of Musical Instruments: A Catalogue of Musical Instruments in the Museums of Gujarat (1990)

shillong.

Meghalaya State Museum: Indian tribal.

varanasi, uttar pradesh.

Bharat Kala Museum, Benaras Hindu University

indonesia

denpasar, bali.

Museum Bali: Baleganjur gamelan, composite from I Made Gabeleran and Blahbatuh Gianyar.

A.C. McGraw: The Gamelan Semara Dana of Banjar Kaliungu Kaja, Denpasar, Bali, Indonesia (MA thesis, Tufts U., 1998); I.W. Rai: Balinese Gamelan Semar Pagulingan Saih Pitu: the Modal System (diss., U. of Maryland 1996)

jakarta, java.

Wayang Museum

B. Cuthbertson: ‘The Wayang Museum in Jakarta’, Arts of Asia, x/1 (1980)

medan, n. sumatra.

Museum Negeri Sumatera Utara

S.S. Roskymawati and others: Pralatan musik tradisional Batak Karo [Traditional musical instruments of Batak Karo peoples of North Sumatra] (1992)

rengat, riau.

Indragiri Royal Family, Gengang Nobat Ensemble

M.J. Kartomi: ‘The Royal Nobat Ensemble of the Indragiri in Riau, Sumatra, in Colonial and Post-Colonial Times’, GSJ, l (1997)

siak sri indrapura.

Nobat (gamelan) ensemble [remnant]

surakarta, java.

Radyapostaka [Great Library]: Javanese.

tanjung pinang, riau archipelago.

Nobat (gamelan) ensemble [remnant]

yogyakarta.

Monument Pangeran Diponegoro: Javanese gamelan.

iran

tehran.

Edāre-ye Honarhā-ye zibā-ye Keshvar [National Bureau of Fine Arts]

tehran.

Honarestān-e Āli-ye Musiqi-ye Melli [National Conservatory of Music]

tehran.

Niavaran Palace Museum

tehran.

Sabaz Palace Museum

ireland, republic of

dublin.

National Museum of Ireland: c400 European art, traditional and non-Western

israel

be’er-sheba‘.

The Museum of Bedouin Culture: Bedouin.

haifa.

Muzé’on ve-Sifriyyah le-Musiqah [Haifa Museum of Music and Ethnology, and Amli Library]: 1000 mainly worldwide ethnological and reconstructed Biblical instruments, incl. Moshe Gorali, and Charna and Avraham Galper (European wind) collections.

Y. Ben-Zvi: ha-Musiqah ba-‘olam ha-‘atiq [Music in the ancient world] (1971, 2/1979); M. Gorali: Music in Ancient Israel (1972, 3/1977); M. Gorali: Magic Sounds: Musical Instruments of the Far East (1989); Musical Instruments in Biblical Israel (1991)

herzliyya.

Leon and Luisa Zeldis collection: c175 Central and South American incl. pre-Columbian and Asian.

jerusalem.

Rubin Academy of Music: c450 European and ethnological, incl. the Koussevitzky and Bellison collections.

Musical Instruments Bequeathed by the Late Conductor Dr. Serge Koussevitsky to the State of Israel (1953); ‘Major Exhibit Held in Tel-Aviv, Israel’, AMIS Newsletter, xiv/3 (1985); C. Abravanel: ‘The Yocheved Dostrovsky-Kopernik Exhibition of Musical Instruments’, Music and Time (1990–91), 44–59

tel-aviv.

F. Sacchi: Il Conte Cozio di Salabue: cenni biografici di questo collectore d’instrumenti ad arco (Milan, 1898); I.A. Cozio di Salabue: Carteggio, ed. R. Bacchetta (1950); P. Frisoli: ‘The Museo Stradivariano in Cremona’, GSJ, xxiv (1971), 33–50; S. Sacconi: I segreti di Stradivari, con il catalogo dei cimeli stradivariani del Museo (1972); L’esposizione di liuteria antica a Cremona nel 1937 (1987); C. Beare: Capolavori di Antonio Stradivari (1987); A. Mosconi and C. Torresani: Il Museo Stradivariano di Cremona (1987); E. Santoro: Geigensammlung im Rathaus von Cremona (1987); Stradivari e la liuteria cremonese dall’ U.R.S.S. [exhibition catalogue] (1988); C. Beare: Antonio Stradivari: the Cremona Exhibition of 1987 (1988); A. Mosconi and L.C. Witten: Capolavori di Andrea Amati (1991) [exhibition catalogue]; Strumenti di Antonio Stradivari (1991)

cremona.

Palazzo Communale, ‘I Violini del Palazzo Comunale di Cremona’: 5 important Cremonese violins.

Musei a Cremona (1895); E. Santoro, A. Mosconi and E. Quiresi: I violini del Palazzo comunale (1982); A. Mosconi, M. Tanzi and M. Tiella: Il Palazzo comunale di Cremona (1992)

cremona.

Societa Filodrammatica Cremonese: Neapolitan mandolins.

faenza.

Museo Teatrale and Biblioteca Communale: 50 European and non-European.

florence.

Accademia Bartolomeo Cristofori Amici del Fortepiano: string keyboards.

D. Righini: ‘Un’ accademia per gli amici del “fortepiano”’, Toscanaoggi, xi (1991); L. Pinzauti: ‘Musiche e strumenti rari per riscoprire un’ epoca’, La nazione, v (1992)

florence.

Museo Bardini e Galleria Corsi: c30 17th- and 18th-century European art.

florence.

Museo degli Strumenti Musicali del Conservatorio di Musica ‘Luigi Cherubini’: c220 16th- to 19th-century European art, incl. Ferdinando de Medici, and part of Heyer, and Alessandro Kraus collections.

A. Kraus, ed.: Musée Kraus à Florence: catalogue des instruments de musique anciens et modernes du Musée Kraus (1878); Catalogo della collezione etnografico-musicale Kraus in Firenze: sezione instrumenti musicali (1901); L. Bargagna: Gli strumenti musicali raccolti nel Museo del R. Istituto L. Cherubini a Firenze (1911); V. Gai: Gli strumenti musicali della corte Medicea e il Museo del Conservatorio ‘Luigi Cherubini’ di Firenze (1969); ‘Florence Exhibits Musical Instruments’, AMIS Newsletter, ix/3 (1980); M. Fabbri: Antichi strumenti della raccolta dei Medici e dei Lorena alla formazione del museo del Conservatorio di Firenze (1981)

florence.

Museo di Storia Naturale, Sezione Anthropologia ed Ethnologia, Università degli Studi, Firenze: c155 worldwide.

N. Puccioni: ‘Gli oggetti musicali del Museo Nazionale di Antropologia’, Archivo per la Antropoliogia e la Etnologia, xxxvi/1 (1906), 59–84

forlì.

Museo Romagnolo del Teatro Angelo Masini: c75 European art, emphasizing Forlì makers.

genoa.

Museo d’Arte Orientale Edoardo Chiossone: c20 Japanese and Chinese.

isola bella, lake maggiore.

Palazzo Borromeo: c15 European art and Etruscan bells.

L. Libin and K. Shanks Libin: ‘Musical Instruments at Isola Bella’, EMc, xviii (1990), 617–23

magliano alfieri.

Museo Civico: c20 European traditional.

Il corno da posta: da messo di segnalazione a strumento sinfonico (1989) [exhibition catalogue]

mantua.

Museo di Palazzo d’Arco: c20 string instruments.

merano.

Castello Principesco: c30 16th- to 18th-century European art.

W. Roos: ‘The Musical Instrument Collection at Meran’, GSJ, xxxii (1979), 10–23; W. Duschek: Meraner Museum und Landesfürstliche Burg (1983); M. da David and R.V. Schönherr: Geschichte und Beschreibung der landesfürstliche Burg (n.d.); W. Roos: Die Sammlung historischer Musikinstrumente in der Landesfürstliche Burg zu Meran (1987); W. Roos: La collezione di antichi strumenti musicali del Castello Principesco di Merano (1990)

milan.

Museo Nazionale della Scienza e della Tecnica ‘Leonardo da Vinci’: c100 European art, incl. most of Emma Vecla collection.

milan.

Museo degli Strumenti Musicali, Castello Sforzesco: c700 European art, traditional, Asian and African, incl. Natale Gallini collection.

N. Gallini: Mostra di antichi strumenti musicale della collezione N. Gallini (1953); N. and F. Gallini: Comune di Milano, museo degli strumenti musicali, Castello Sforzesco (1963)

milan.

Museo Teatrale alla Scala: c130, European art, archaeological and non-European, incl. some early instruments in the 1881 Milano exposition and from the Conservatorio di Musica ‘Giuseppe Verdi’.

Esposizione musicale sotto il patrocinio de S.M. la Regina: Milano 1881; E. de Guarinoni: Gli strumenti musicali nel Museo del R. Conservatorio di Milano: nel lo centenario della fondazione del R. Conservatorio di musica ‘G. Verdi’ (1908); Catologo del Museo Teatrale alla Scala (1914); S. Vittadini: Catalogo del Museo teatrale alla Scala (1948); La collezione di strumenti musiali del Museo teatrale alla Scala: studio, restauro, restituzione (1991)

modena.

Museo Civico di Storia e Arte Medievale e Moderna: c100 European art, African and Asian, incl. Luigi Francesco Valdrighi collection.

L.F. Valdrighi: Nomocheliurgografia antica e moderna (1884/R); G. Zoccoli: Il conte Luigi Francesco Valdrighi, storiografo e musicografo (1899); A. Crescellani: Catalogue of Old Instruments (n.d.) [Valdrigi Collection]; L. Cervelli: Mostra di antichi strumenti musicali: catalogo (1963); J.H. van der Meer, L. Cervelli and others: Antichi strumenti musicali: catalogo del fondo del musicale del Museo civico di storia e arte medievale e moderna di Modena (1982); M. Lucci: ‘Elementi per una storia del museo civico, il fondo musicale: contributi alla conoscenza di Luigi Francesco Valdrighi’, Antichi strumenti musicale: catalogo del fondo musicali del museo civico di storia e arte medievale e moderna di Modena (1986), 12–23, 24–44

naples.

Collezione dei Piccoli Bronzi, Museo Archeologico Nazionale: c70 archaeological, many from Vesuvius area.

naples.

Museo Storico-Musicale del Conservatorio: c140 mostly European art, some Asian.

E. Santagata: Il Museo storico musicale di ‘San Pietro a Majella’ (1930)

novara, piemonte.

Museo Civico, Sezione Teatrale e Sezione Etnografico: c100 occidental and oriental, incl. Marco Antonio Caccia theatre collection.

Donazione cimeli artistici lirici di proprietà teatro coccia (1962)

palermo.

Museo Etnografico Siciliano Pitré: c70 traditional Sicilian.

G. Cocchiara: La vita e l’arte del populo siciliano nel Museo Pitrè (1938)

palmi.

Museo Calabrese di Etnografia e Folclore Raffaele Corso: c50 traditional.

A. Ricci and R. Tucci: ‘La collezione degli strumenti musicali del museo di etnografia e folklore “Raffaele Corso” di Palmi’, Incontri meridionali rivista quadrimestrale di storia e cultura, i/2 (1991)

Museo Marini: c430 mechanical.

L. Gerli: Museo di strumenti musicali meccanici, collezione Marino Marini (1980)

siena.

Accademia Musicale Chigiana: c90 mostly European, esp. bowed string instruments, incl. the Count Guido Chigi Saracini collection.

turin.

Museo Civico di Arte Antica a Palazzo Madama: c50 European and Asian.

Museo Strumentale Musicali, Conservatorio di Musica ‘Benedetto Marcello’: c50 early Venetian returned to earlier locations: Cá Pesaro, Istituto della Pietà, and Museo Correr.

verona.

Accademia Filarmonica di Verona: c70 European art mainly 16th-century winds incl. the Count Mario Bevilacqua Collection.

G. Turrini: L’Accademia filarmonica di Verona dalla fondazione al 1600 (1941); M. Castellani: ‘A 1593 Veronese Inventory’, GSJ, xxvi (1973), 15–24; J.H. van der Meer and R. Weber: Catalogo degli strumenti musicali dell’Accademia filarmonica di Verona (1982)

verona.

Museo della Biblioteca Capitolare: 14 16th- to 17th-century winds.

F. Puglisi: ‘Renaissance Flutes of the Biblioteca Capitolare of Verona: the Structure of a Pifaro’, GSJ, xxxii (1979), 24–37; J.H. van der Meer and R. Weber: Catalogo degli strumenti musicali dell’Accademia filarmonica di Verona (1982)

ivory coast

abidjan.

Musée du Centre des Sciences Humaines: African traditional

jamaica

nagoya.

Atsuta Jinja Hōmotsuden [Atsuta Shrine Treasure House]: c30 early Japanese.

National Museum of Japanese History, Folklore Research Department: Japanese incl. the collection of Tokugawa Kishū Family.

Gagaku Musical Instruments Heirloom of Kishū Tokugawa Family (1982); Dan sui da (1992) [exhibition catalogue]

shimane.

Izumo Taisha Hōmotsuden [shrine]: traditional Japanese.

shimane.

Miho Jinja Narimono shūzōko [shrine museum]: c850 mainly Japanese.

shimane.

Mizuho Museum of Musical Instruments: c450 worldwide.

Tsuchi no Oto (1986)

Min-On Music Library Folk Musical Instruments Collection: c550 Asian, Middle Eastern, North and Latin American.

tokyo.

Musashino Ongaku Daigaku Gakki Hakubutsukan [Museum of Musical Instruments, Musashino Academia Musicae]: c4555 worldwide ethnological.

Musashino Ongaku Daigaku, Gakki Hakubutsukan mokuroku/Museum of Musical Instruments, Musashino Academia Musicae (1969–85); ‘CIMCIM Members Travel to Japan’, AMIS Newsletter, xx/2 (1991)

tokyo.

Small Museum of Musical Boxes

Music Gallery (1984, 2/1989)

tokyo.

Suntory Ltd: Schambach-Kaston collection: 87 European mainly bowed string.

R. Rephann: The Schamback-Kaston Collection of Musical Instruments (1988)

tokyo.

Kokuritsu Hakubutsukan [National Museum]: c180 Japanese.

tokyo.

Waseda Daigaku Tsubouchi Hakase Kinen Engeki Hakubutsukan [Tsubouchi Memorial Theatre Museum, Waseda University]: c50 Asian.

uwajima, ehime.

Uwajima-Shiritsu Date Hakubutsukan [Uwajima Date Museum]: c40 Japanese incl. Uwajima Date family collection.

yamanashi.

Hall of Halls: c80 mechanical

kazakhstan

almaty.

State Museum of the Traditional Musical Instruments of Kazakhstan: 900 Kazakh, Central and East Asian.

almaty.

Bolat Shamgalievitch Saribaev Museum: 300 archaeological and traditional Kazakh, Uigur, Uzbeg, Bashkir and Eastern Asian.

B.S. Saribaev: Kazakh Musical Instruments (1978)

kenya

nairobi.

National Museum of Kenya: c250 Kenyan.

nairobe.

Institute of African Studies, University of Nairobi: Kenyan ethnological.

P. Kavyu: Traditional Musical Instruments of Kenya (1984)

kyrgyzstan

bishkek.

State Historical Museum of Kyrgyzstan: 35 Kyrgyz.

S. Subanaliev: Kyrgyzskie muzykalnye instrumenty (1986)

korea

seoul.

Kunip Kugak-Wŏn [National Classical Music Institute]: 70 Korean incl. from Royal Conservatory collection.

Hye-Ku Lee: Photographs of the Musical Instruments in the Royal Conservatory (1939); Korean Classical Music Instruments (1959); Hye-Ku Lee: Musical Instruments of Korea Illustrated (1966)

latvia

riga.

Museum of the History of Riga and Navigation: c210 European and Asian art and traditional.

riga.

Latvian Open-Air Ethnographic Museum: c200 Latvian traditional.

I. Prieolíte: Latvian Folk Music Instruments (1978); I. Prieolíte: Ko spéleja senolienas (1983); Folk Music Instruments (1988)

lithuania

vilnius.

Lietuvos TSR istorijos it etnografijos musiejus [National Museum of Lithuanian History and Ethnography]: c250 mainly Lithuanian art and traditional.

M. Baltreniene and R. Apanavičius: Lietuviu liaudies muzikos instrumentai (1991); M. Baltreniene: Lietuviu liaudies muzikos instrumentai lietuvos muziejuose [Lithuanian folk musical instruments] (1991)

macedonia

skopje.

Arheološki Muzej na Makadonije [Archaeological Museum of Macedonia]: c75 Macedonian traditional

madagascar

antananarivo.

Musée d’Art et d’Archéologie de l’Université de Madagascar

M. Rakotomalala: ‘Le Laboratoire d’Ethnomusicologie de l’Institut de Civilisations de l’Université de Tananarive’, CIMCIM Bulletin, no.12 (1992)

malaysia

kota kinabalu, sabah.

Sabah Jabatan Muzium dan Arkib Negeri Sabah.

Pengenalan kepada alat-alat muzik tradisional Sabah [An Introduction to the Traditional Musical Instruments of Sabah] (1992); P.J. Kating: Alat-alat muzik tradisional Sabah: Warisan budaya kita bersama (1998)

kuala lumpur.

Muzium Negara [National Museum]: c200 mainly Malaysian.

Panduan Balai Kebudayaan Muzium Negara/Guide to the Cultural Gallery Muzium Negara (1986)

kuching.

Sarawak Museum: c140 Southeast Asian, esp. Sarawak and Borneo ethnological.

R.W.C. Shelford: ‘An Illustrated Catalogue of the Ethnographical Collection of the Sarawak Museum, i: Musical Instruments’, Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, xl (1904/R)

melaka.

Muzium Melaka, Muzium Budada

pecan, pahang.

Lembaga Muzium, Negeri Pahang [State Museum of Pahang]: 2 gamelans (one Pahang), 40 Southeast Asian and Indian.

M.T. Osman: Traditional Drama and Music of Southeast Asia (1974); Ku Zam Zam Ku Iduz: Muzik Tradisional Melayu dan Kedah Utara, esembel-esembel Wayang Kulit, Mek Melong dan Gendang Keling dengan tumpuan kepada alat-alat pemuzik-pemusik dan fungsi (1978); A. Ismail: Thesis Gamelan Malaysia (diss., U. Sains Malaysia, 1980); M.G. Nasuruddin: Muzik Melayu Tradisi (1989)

pecan, pahang.

Koleski Muzium Sultan Abu Bakar

M.M. bin Abu Bakar Dató and S. binti Yeop Tajuddin: Alat musik tradisional Pahang [Traditional Musical Instruments of Pahang] (1993)

mali

bamako.

Musée National du Mali: c500

mexico

cozumel.

Alejandro Alcocer Museum: c675 pre-Hispanic and Mexican.

mexico city.

Investigaciones Musicales, Instituto Nacional de Belles Artes: c200 pre-Columbian and ethnological incl. musical toys.

C.S. Sodi: Catálogo de la primera exposición internacional de instrumentos musicales (1969)

mexico city.

Laboratoria Museográfico, Universidad Iberoamericana: pre-Columbian and colonial Mexican.

J.D. Frank Flute collection: c100.

Johan A.L.M. Huysser collection: c200 Western traditional and non-Western, incl. pre-Columbian winds.

elburg.

Gemeentemuseum Nederlands Orgelmuseum

groningen.

Groningermuseum voor Stad en Lande: medieval.

the hague.

Haags Gemeentemuseum, Music Department: c3200 worldwide incl. Daniel François Scheurleer, J.C. Boers; Rijksmuseum, Koninklijk Oudheidkundig Genootschap (both Amsterdam) Carel van Leeuwen Boomkamp collections.

Catalogus der musiekbibliotheek en der verzameling van musiekinstrumenten van D.F. Scheurleer (1885); Catalogus der tentoonstelling van muziekinstrumenten, prenten, photografiën en booken (1893); Oude muziek-instrumenten, en prenten en fotografiën naar Schilderijen en Teekeningen, waarop instrumenten voorkonen (Rotterdam, 1898); D.J. Balfoort: Eigenartige Musikinstrumente (1932); D.F. Scheurleer and D.J. Balfoort: Die muziek-historische afdeeling (1935); Muziekinstrumenten uit het Rijksmuseum te Amsterdam (1952) [exhibition catalogue]; A.W. Ligtvoet: Exotische en oude europese muziekinstrumenten in de muziekafdeling van het Haagse Gemeentemuseum (1955); A.W. Ligtvoet: Gids buiten-europese muziekinstrumenten (1962); A.W. Ligtvoet: Europese muziekinstrumenten in het Haagse Gemeentemuseum (1965); C. von Gleich, ed.: Catalogus van de muziekinstrumenten van het Haags Gemeentemuseum, i: L.J. Plenckers: Hoornen trompetachitige blaasinstrumenten (1970); Bach und seine Zeit (1971) [exhibition brochure]; C. van Leeuwen Boomkamp and J.H. van der Meer: The Carel van Leeuwen Boomkamp Collection of Musical Instruments (1971); R. van Acht, C. von Gleich and M. Klerk: Historische blaasinstrumenten [exhibition catalogue] (1974); R.J.M. van Acht: Volksmuziek en Volksinstrumenten in Europa (1975, 2/1982) [exhibition catalogue]; R. van Acht: Oudeklavicimbels/Old harpsichords (1977); O. Mensing: Muziek in de Filippijnen: instrumentale muziek van etnische minderheden (1977); O. Mensing: Traditionele muziekinstrumenten van Japan (1979); C. von Gleich: Pianos uit de Lage Landen/Pianofortes from the Low Countries (1980); R. van Acht: Het strijkinstrument (Rotterdam, 1982); C. von Gleich: Inventarislijst van pianorollen (1986); N. Jonker: Highlights of the Collection (1986); R. van Acht, ed.: Checklist of the Musical Instrument Collection, i: C. von Gleich: Checklist of Pianos (1986); ii: P. Wolff: Checklist of Traditional Japanese Instruments (1988), iii: C. von Gleich: Checklist of Harpsichords, Clavichords, Organs, Harmoniums (1989) iv: P. Wolff: Checklist of Muscial Instruments from the East and South-East Asian Mainland (1989), v: C. von Gleich: Checklist of Automatic Musical Instruments (1989); C. von Gleich: Over het Onststaan van de musiekafdeling: portret van de Versamling-Scheurleer (1988); O. Mensink: Electric Music: Three Years of Acquisition (1988); C. von Gleich: Complete List of European Musical Instruments and Makers (1989); R. van Acht and others: Dutch Recorders of the 18th Century in the Haags Geementemuseum Collection (1991); M. Latcham: ‘New Exhibition at the Hague’, AMIS Newsletter, xx/3 (1991) ; H. Davies and O. Mensink: ‘Reply to Vogel Article’, AMIS Newsletter, xxi/2 (1992); R. van Acht: Niederländische doppelrohrblattinstrumente des 17. und 18. Jahrhunderts: Sammlung, Haags Gemeentemuseum (1997); R.van Acht: Dutch Transverse Flutes and Clarinets of the 18th Century (1999)

helmond.

Draaiorgelmuseum, Helmondse Muziekhal: mechanical.

leeuwarden.

Fries Natuurmuseum: medieval

leiden.

Rijksmuseum van Oudheden: 20 archaeological, incl. Egyptian and Romano-Dutch.

leiden.

Rijksmuseum voor Volkenkunde: c550 African, Asian, American, Australian and Oceanian.

J. Markward and J.D.E. Schmeltz: Ethnographisch album van het stroomgebied van den Congo (The Hague, 1904); H.G. Farmer: ‘Meccan Musical Instruments’, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, vii–viii (1929), 489–505

monnickendam.

Stuttenburgh collection: c370 music boxes.

nijmegen.

Volkenkundig Museum: c255 African, Indonesian, Japanese, Chinese and Australian, incl. Beijens, Capucins and Augustiniens collections.

oudkerk.

Muziekmuseum ‘de Klinze’: worldwide reed.

rotterdam.

Louise Schepel collection: c50 French horns.

zaandam.

Gerrit and Ineke van der Veer collection: c60 European art

new zealand

auckland.

Auckland Institute and Museum: 725 mainly worldwide ethnological, esp. Polynesian, Melanesian, Maori wind and some Western; Zillah and Ronald Castle collection: 500 European art and traditional, esp. from colonial New Zealand.

Old Instruments in New Zealand: a Short Survey of the Zillah and Ronald Castle Collection of Early and Unusual Musical Instruments (n.d.); M. Hamber and L. Stanners: Musical Instruments Through the Ages (1986); R.M. Moyle: The Sounds of Oceania: an Illustrated Catalogue of the Sound Producing Instruments of Oceania in the Auckland Institute and Museum (1989)

auckland.

David L. Smith collection: c160 European winds and some string instruments.

dunedin.

Otago Museum: c350 mostly Oceanian, some Asian, African and European.

J.C. Andersen: ‘Maori Music with its Polynesian Background’, Journal of the Polynesian Society xlii/167–8 (1933)

wellington.

Ethnomusicology Section, School of Music, Victoria University of Wellington: Javanese gamelans, Thai/Cambodian Maori orchestra, Philippine Kulintang ensemble, Asian, Oceanian, African, Middle Eastern, and Jack Body Collection of Asian and Oceanian sound makers.

T. Allan: ‘Gamelan in New Zealand: a Chronology’, Balungan, ii/3 (1986)

wellington.

National Art Gallery and Museum of New Zealand: c100 incl. mostly Maori, some Marquesan and other ethnological, some from Captain Cook.

J. Andersen: Maori Music with its Polynesian Background (1934); A. Kaeppler: Articifial Curiosities: Exposition of Native Manufactures Collected on the Three Pacific Voyages of Captain James Cook (1978); R. Neich: Pacific Cultural Material in New Zealand Museums (1982)

niger

niamey.

Musée national du Niger: 150 exhibited

nigeria

benin city.

National Museum: c65.

jos.

National Museum: c1400 African.

lagos.

Nigerian Museum: c465 African.

lagos.

National Commission for Museums and Monuments: c1270.

Laoye 1 (Timi of Ede): ‘Yoruba drums’, NIGERIA, xlv (1954); A.N.G. Okosa: ‘Ibo Musical Instruments’, NIGERIA, lxxv (1962); W.W.C. Echezona: Nigerian Msical Instruments in Nigerian Culture (n.d.); U. Bierer: ‘Three Igbin drums’, NIGERIA, lxxiii (1963); Nigerian Drums: Sounds of Unity (1991)

norway

bergen.

Historisk Museum, Etnografisk Samling, Universitetet i Bergen: c230 European art and traditional, incl. many hardanger fiddles.

Musikkinstrumenter fra hele verden: undervisningsopplegg (n.d.)

drammen.

Drammens Museum Fylkesmuseum for Buskerud: c85 Norwegian traditional and Western art.

elverum.

Glomdalsmuseet: c61 art and Norwegian traditional.

jakobsli.

Bjørn Aksdal collection: c250 Norwegian traditional, worldwide ethnological and some art.

lillehammer.

De Sandvigske Samlinger: c150 art and Norwegian traditional.

oslo.

Norsk Folkemuseum: 270 art, mainly Norwegian traditional, incl. loan from Norges musikkhøgskole, Oslo, the Trygve Lindemans, and Olav Gurvins collections (280 European art and traditional, African and Asian).

H. Fett: Musik-Instrumenter Katalog (1904); P.A. Kjeldsberg: A Checklist of Olav Gurvins Instrumentsamling (1975)

oslo.

Universitetets Etnografiske Museum: c300 non-European incl. African, esp. Zaïre, Asian (Borneo and Chinese) from King Oskar II.

O. Aarflot: Kinesisk musikk (1948); A.M. Klausen: Totem, tam-tam, duk-duk, Glimt fra Universitets etnografiske museums samlingar (1961)

skien.

Fylkesmuseet for Telemark og Grenland: c50 art and Norwegian traditional.

trondheim.

Ringve Musikhistorisk Museum: c1700 Western art and traditional, non-European incl. the Victoria Bachke collection.

K. Michelsen: Katalog over musikalieutstillingen (1975) [exhibition catalogue]; H. Sivertsen: Det Trondhjemske musikalske selskab av 1786, i (1975); B. Aksdal: Musikk-instrumentenes historie i de islamske kulturområder (1980); P.A. Kjeldsberg: Musikinstrumenter ven Ringve museum/The Collection of Musical Instruments (1976, 2/1981); P.A. Kjeldsberg: ‘Ringve Museum in Trondheim’, CIMCIM Newsletter (1986) [special issue]; P.A. Kjeldsberg: Piano i Norge: et uundvaerligt instrument (1985); P.A. Kjeldsberg: Leve langeleiken! (1987); K. Michelsen, ed.: Johan Daniel Berlin 1714–1787 (1987); S. Gutormsen, P.A. Kjeldsberg and J. Voigt: Ringve museum, Trondheim (1988); P.A. Kjeldsberg: Ringve museum Trondheim: utgitt av Ringve museum Venner (1988); P.A. Kjeldsberg: Barokkorgelet i Nidarsdomen, bygget av Joachim Wagner 1739–41: restaurert av Jürgen Ahrend 1993–4 (1995)

pakistan

karachi.

National Museum of Pakistan

lahore.

Lahore Museum: c50.

saidu sharif.

Swat Archaeological Museum

papua new guinea

boroko.

National Museum of Papua New Guinea

port moresby.

Papua and New Guinea Public Museum and Art Gallery

paraguay

asunción.

Museo Etnográfico ‘Andrés Barbero’: pre-Colombian.

A. Pusineri: Guia ilustrada del Museo etnográfico ‘Andres Barbero’ (1989)

peru

lima.

Museo Nacional de Antropologia y Arqueologia: c85 Peruvian

philippines

bontoc, luzon.

Bontoc Museum

butuan city.

National Museum

cagayan de oro.

Museo de Oro, Xavier University: c100 traditional, many percussion.

cebu city.

University of San Carlos Museum

manila.

Intramuros Administration Museum

manila.

Museum of Asian Instruments, College of Music and Fine Arts, Philippine Women’s University: c925 Philippine and Asian incl. Norberto Romualdez, Lucrecia R. Kasilag, and Jose Maceda collections.

Museum of Asian Instruments (1971); J. Macada and others: Musika: a Documentary on Philippine Ethnic Music (1992) [videotape]

manila.

National Museum of the Philippines: ethnological.

manila.

UST Museum of Arts and Sciences, University of Santo Tomás

marawi.

Aga Khan Museum, Mindinao State University: c100 Philippine and Asian.

pasay city.

Ramon Obusan Folkloric Center: c100 Asian.

quezon city.

University Museum of Anthropology: 300 Philippine and Asian.

zamboanga.

Ethnological Museum, Western Mindanao State University

poland

biecz.

Muzeum Regionalne [Regional Museum]: c135 mostly Polish traditional.

bydgoszcz.

Filharmonia Pomorska, Kolekcha Zabythowych Foretpianów: c40 pianos after 1830.

B. Vogel: Kolekcja zabythowych fortepianów filharmoii Pomorskiej (1987)

częstochowa.

Monastery of Jasna Góra: 17th-century European art.

Z. Szulc: Katalog instrumentów muzycznych (1949) [exhibition catalogue Muzeum Wielkopolskie, Poznań]; Z. Rozanow and others: Skarby kultury na Jansej Górze (1974)

gdańsk.

Muzeum Narodowe [National Museum]: c100 Polish traditional.

P. Szefca: Narzedzia i instrumenty muzycsne z Kaszub i Kociewia (1982)

kraków.

Muzeum Etnograficzne [Ethnographical Museum]: c400 traditional, half Polish, also African, South American and Asian.

kraków.

Muzeum Narodowe [National Museum]: c75 Western art and traditional, 17th- to 20th-century.

W. Kamiński: Instrumenty muzyczne na ziemiach polskich (1971); W. Kamiński: Skrzypce polskie [Polish violins] (1969)

łańcut.

Muzeum ŁÓDŹ. Muzeum Archeologiczne i Etnograficzne [Museum of Archaeology and Ethnography]: c85 Polish traditional.

opatówek.

Muzeum Historii Przemysłu [Industrial History Museum]: c25 pianos and orchestrion.

poznań.

Muzeum Instrumentów Muzycznych [Museum of Musical Instruments]: c1700 European art and traditional, esp. Polish bowed string instruments, non-European, incl. the Zdislaw Szulc collection.

Z. Szulc: Katalog instrumentów muzycznych ze zbiorow Zdislawa Szulca Wystanwionych na Wystawie muzycznej w Museum miejskin w Poznaniu (1939); Z. Szulc: Katalog instrumentów muzycznych (1949) [exhibition catalogue, Muzeum Wielkopolskie, Poznán]; W. Kaminski: ‘Muzeum instrumentów muzycznych’, Kronika miasta Poznania, xxvii (1959), 22–32; W. Kaminski: Skrzpce polskie [Polish violins] (Kraków, 1969); I. Kalemba: Muzeum instrumentów muzycznych (1983); R. Polczynski: ‘Od prywatnej kolekcji do swiatowego muzeum’ [From a private collection to a world-class museum], Ruch muzyczny, xxxi (1987), 3–5; Szkocka kultura muzyczna [Scotland’s Music] (1994) [exhibition catalogue]

przemyśl.

Muzeum Narodowe Ziemi Przemyskiej: c60 art and traditional.

Instrumenty muzyczne Pogórza Karpackiego [Folk instruments from Carpathian Region] (n.d.)

rzeszów.

Muzeum Okręgowe [District Museum]: c90 Polish traditional.

Państwowe Muzeum Etnograficzne [National Ethnographical Museum]: c370 Polish traditional, and c465 Asian, Australian, African and American.

A. Dobrowolski: Polskie instrumenty muzyczne: katalog wystawy (1966); J. Sobieska: ‘Na marginesie wystawy “Polskie instrumenty muzyczne”’, Muzyka: kwartalnik pozwiecony historii i teatri, xii (1967), 81–7; T. Lewińska: Polonkusrsowa wystawa ludowych instrumentów muzycznych z tereno Mazowsza (1975); M. Sztrantowicz: Afgańskie ludowe instrumenty muzyczne (1985); T. Lewińskia: ‘Ludowe instrumenty muzyczne w zbiorach Państowowego muzeum Etnograficznego w Warszawie’, Poradnik muzyczny, vii–viii (1988), also in Instrumenty muzyczne w polskiej kulturze ludowej (1989); T. Lewińska: Folkenkunst fra Polen (1990)

wrocław.

Muzeum Etnograficzne, Oddzial Museum Narodowego we Wrocławiu [Ethnographical Museum]

zakopane.

Muzeum Tatrzańskie im Tytusa Chałubińskiego [Tatra Museum and Tytusa Chałubiński Memorial]: 183 Polish traditional

portugual

belém.

Centro de Estudos Etnologicos, Universidade dos Açores: traditional Azorean

queluz.

Museu do Palácio Nacional de Queluz

Instrumentos musicais 1747–1807: uma collecção à procura de um museu (1984)

romania

bucharest.

Complexul Muzeal Timis: c250 ethnological, incl. many flutes.

bucharest.

Muzeul de Artă populară ‘Minovici’ [Minovici Museum of Popular Art]: c50 worldwide ethnological, incl. the Dr. Nicolae Minovici collection.

bucharest.

Muzeul Muzicii Romanesti

bucharest.

Muzeul Satuluişi de Artă Populară (formerly Muzeul de Artă a Republicii): c850 worldwide.

cluj-napoca.

Muzeul Etnografic al Transilvaniei [Transylvanian Museum of Ethnography]: c280 Transylvanian traditional.

cluj-napoca.

Muzeul de Istorie al Transilvaniei [Museum of the History of Transylvania]: c50 art.

A. Ardoş and Ş. Lakatos: ‘Instrumentele muzicale ale muzeului de istorie Cluj’, Acta Musei Napocensis, iii (1966); M. Ardács and I. Lakatos: ‘Musikinstrumente im historischen Museum Klausenburg’, SMH, xv (1973), 336–7 AŞI. Muzeul Etnografic al Moldovei [Moldavian Museum of Ethnography]: c60 regional IAŞI. Sectia Inregistrarea şi Reproducerea Sunetului, Muzeum Politehnic [Sound Recording and Reproduction Section, Polytechnic Museum]: c60 mechanical

russia

moscow.

rwanda

butare.

Musée National: c50 Rwandan

senegal

dakar.

Musée d’Archéologie: c1300 Senegalese.

dakar.

Musée d’Art Africain, Institut Fondamental d’Afrique Noire Cheikh Anta Diop: c1500 Senegalese

singapore

singapore.

National Museum (formerly the Raffles Museum): c200 Chinese, Malay, Indian and Indonesian, incl. partial gamelan, and traditional from hunting-gathering societies from inlands east of Bali and Malay rain forest

slovakia

novo mesto.

Dolenjski Muzej [Dolenjski Museum]: c150 European and non-European traditional.

ptuj.

Zbirka Glasbil, Pokrajinski Muzej [Musical Instrument Collection, District Museum]. c250 European art and traditional, c30 Asian and African

H. Druzović: ‘Iz ptujske glasbene pretklosti’, Kronika slovenskih mest, v/3 (1938), 171–7; D. Koter: Glasbila na ptujskem gradu: instrumentarij salonov ter mescanskih im plemiskih in plemiskih kapel (1994); D. Koter: ‘Musical Instruments in the Landscape Museum in Ptuj, Slovenia’, CIMCIM Bulletin, xxv (1995)

south africa

cape town.

South African Cultural History Museum: c110 European art, mainly British.

east london.

East London Museum: c70 indigenous South African.

grahamstown.

International Library of African Music, Rhodes University: c200 African, mostly Southern African incl. the Hugh and Andrew Tracey collection.

African Music (1954–) [institutional journal]

johannesburg.

Africana Museum: c200, 150 South-African tribal and 50 European.

johannesburg.

Harold Steafel collection: c280 ethnological, incl. 50 European.

johannesburg.

University of the Witwatersrand: incl. the Hans Adler keyboard collection.

rondebosch, cape town.

Department of Music, University of Cape Town (formerly in the Africana Museum, Johannesburg): over 550 South African, European, and worldwide ethnological, primarily the Percival Robson Kirby collection.

P.R. Kirby: The Musical Practices of the Native Races of South Africa (London, 1934/R); P.R. Kirby: Musical Instruments of the Native Races of South Africa (London, 1934/R); M.M. de Lange, ed.: Catalogue of the Musical Instruments in the Collection of Prof. P.R. Kirby (Johannesburg, 1967)

spain

avila.

Museo Provincial de Avila: c50 popular, incl. the Marqués de Benavites collection.

barcelona.

Museu de la Música: c1410 European art and traditional from diverse cultures.

J. Griffiths: ‘The Lutes in the Museo Municipal de Música Barcelona’, JLSA, xii (1979), 48–66; B. Kenyon de Pascual: ‘Brass Instruments in the Museo de la Música in Barcelona’, Brass Bulletin, no.70 (1990–2), 78–84; J. Horta, ed.: Museu de la Música: catàleg d’instruments (1991)

bilbao.

Euskal Arkeologia, Etnografia eta Kondaira Museoa (Museo Arquologico, Etnografico e Historico Vaso): c50 Basque popular.

Euskal Soinu-Tresnak: instrumentos musicales Vascos (1988)

carbonero el mayor, segovia.

Lorenzo Sancho collection: c100 Spanish traditional, half dulzians.

gijon.

Museo de la Gaita: c75 popular incl. 56 cornamuses and related materials.

R. Meré: Museo internacional de la gaita: catálogo (1970, 2/1992); R. Meré: Gaitas y gaiteros de Grecia (1977); A. García-Oliva: Catálogo de las cornamusas del Museo de la gaita (1992)

madrid.

Biblioteca Musical, Ayuntamiento de Madrid: c60 keyboard and string.

Museo Nacional de Antropologia (incl. 100 formerly in Museo Nacional de Etnologia, and 200 formerly in Museo Nacional del Pueblo Español (with c300 diverse ethnological and European art and traditional, many Spanish.

madrid.

Museo Romántico: 9 pianos.

madrid.

Palacio Real de Madrid: c300 string instruments, wind and percussion.

madrid.

Real Conservatorio Superior de Música de Madrid: c120 European art and traditional.

orense.

Escola de Gaitas: c40 European and African bagpipes.

pamplona.

Ortzadar Euskal Folklore Taldea: c50 Basque.

urueña, valladolid.

Centro Etnográfico Joaquín Díaz, Diputacion Provincial de Valladolid: c300 Castillian and Leónese traditional.

J. Díaz: Instrumentos populares (1997)

sri lanka

colombo.

National Museum of Sri Lanka: c65 Ceylonese

swaziland

lobamba.

Swaziland National Museum: ethnological

sweden

borås.

Borås Museum: c25, mainly keyboards.

eskilstuna.

Eskilstuna Konstmuseum: c50 European art and regional traditional.

falun.

Dalarnas Museum, Läns museum för Kopparbergs län: c100, mainly regional traditional, some art.

gävle.

Länsmuseet i Gävleborgs län: c50 art and Swedish traditional.

göteborg.

Göteborgs Etnografiska Museum: 2000 ethnological; important South American collection, also Central and North American, many African, Asian (18th-century Chinese), Australian and Oceanian ethnological.

W. Kaudern: Musical Instruments in Celebes (1927); K.G. Isikowitz: Musical and Other Sound Instruments of the South American Indians (1935)

göteborg.

Göteborgs Historiska Museum: c280 European art and traditional, esp. from western Sweden.

B.A. Nordin: Musikhistoriska avdelningen (1923); O. Thulin: Historiska avdelningen Göteborgs museum: musikinstrument (1931); T. Norlind: Musikinstrumentens historia (1941)

helsingborg.

Hälsingborgs Museum: c7500 European art and traditional incl. Daniel Fryklund collection.

D. Fryklund: Collection Fryklund: musica (1929); D. Fryklund: ‘Samlingen av musikinstrumente i Hälsingborgs Museum’, Kring Kärnan, Hälsingborgs museums årsskrift (1939); D. Fryklund: Hälsingborgs museum: utställning av musikinstrumente ur Daniel Fryklunds samling i Hälsingborg (1945); D. Fryklund: Collection Fryklund 1949 (1949)

kalmar.

Kalmar Läns Museum: c70 art and Swedish traditional.

karlskrona.

Blekinge Läns Museum: c55 mainly European art.

kristianstad.

Kristianstads Länsmuseum: c50 military ensemble.

S. Ossiannilsson: Wendes regementes historia 1794–1944 (1944)

landskrona.

Landskrona Museum: c60 European art mainly wind, some traditional.

H. Nilsson: ‘Instrumentmakare I.V. Wahl och hans verkstad’, Kulturens årsbok 1942 (1942)

linköping.

Östergötlands Länsmuseum: c100 European art and regional traditional.

lund.

Kulturhistoriska Museet: c500 European art, traditional and archaeological, acoustic and mechanical used in Sweden.

Kulturen: a Guide to the Museum of Cultural History in Lund; B. Vogel: ‘Historic Keyboard Instruments of the Academic Orchestra in Lund’, GSJ, li (1998)

örebro.

Örebro Läns Museum: c45 regional art and traditional.

Från bergslag til bondebygd (1992)

östersund.

Jämtlands Läns Museum: c60 regional traditional.

K. Tirén: En primitiv fela (1918); K.A. Öberg: Fiolbyggaren E.W. Munter (1988)

skara.

Skaraborgs Länsmuseum (formerly Västergötlands Länsmuseum): c240 European art and traditional.

S. Welin: Musikhistoriska avdelningen vid Västergötlands fornmuseum i Skara (1924)

skellefteä.

Skellefteä Museum

stockholm.

Armémuseum: c140 military, wind and percussion, 17th- to 20th-century.

stockholm.

Folkens Museum, Etnografiska: 2700 African, Asian, American, Oceanian and ethnological, incl. the Vanadis collection.

S. Martí: ‘Precortesian Music’, Ethnos, xix/1–4 (1954); B. Söderberg: Les instruments de musique au Bas-Congo et dans les régions avoisinantes (1956)

stockholm.

Statens Musiksamlingar Musikonmuseet: c6500 European art, traditional, African, Asian and South American ethnological, incl. 1045 traditional from the Nordiska Museet.

J.O.H. Svanberg: Musikhistoriska museet i Stockholm instrumentsamling (1902); H. Boivie: Nordiska museet, musikavdelningingen (1912); T. Nordlind: ‘Musikhistoriska museet i Stockholm’, STMf, ii (1920), 95–114; T. Nordlind: En bok om musikintrumente (1928); E. Emsheimer: Studia ethnomusicologica eurasiatica (1964, 2/1991); J. Ling: Nykelharpan-studier i ett folkligt musikinstrument (1967, abridged Eng. trans., 1976, as The keyed Fiddle, Studies on a Folk Instrument); Studia instrumentorum musicae popularis (1969–); E. Emsheimer: ‘Musikmuseets instrumentsamlingar’, Särtryck ur minnesskrift vid Kungl: Musikaliska Akademiens 200 årsjubileum (1971), 115–56; From Bone Pipe and Cattle Horn to Fiddle and Psaltery (1972) [exhibition catalogue]; C. Karp: ‘Baroque Woodwinds in the Musikhistoriska Museet’, GSJ, xxv (1972), 9–96; C. Lund and G. Larsson: Klans i flinta och brons/The Sound of Archaeology (1974); B. Kjellström: Dragspel: om kett kaert och misskaent instrument i samarbete med Musikmuseet, Stockholm (1976); B. Kjellström: ‘Musikmuseet, Stockholm’, CIMCIM Newsletter (1986) [special issue]; H. Albertson: Ahlberg & ohlsson: en fabrik för blechblå sinstrument i Stockholm 1850–1959 (1990); P.U. Allmo: Saeckpipan i Norden: fran aenglars musik till Djaevulens blasbaelg (1990); B. Kjellström: Traelat: Svenska folkinstrument (1990) [Catalogue]; H. Albertson: Klavier (1992) [catalogue]; H. Svensson: Den Svenska lutan (1992) [catalogue]

stockholm.

Statens Sjöhistoriska Museum: medieval.

stockholm.

Stiftelsen Musikkulturens Främjande: 550 European and non-European incl. Rudolf Nydahl collection.

G. Grahn: A Complete List of Keyboard Instruments in Stiftelsen Musikkulturens Främjande (Rudolf Nydahl Collection) in Stockholm (1988) [typescript]

stockholm.

Stockholms Leksasksmuseum: Lindwall Family Collection, 400 diverse mechanical.

uppsala.

Upplandsmuseet: c50, half Swedish art, half Uppland regional traditional.

vänersborg.

Älvsborgs Länsmuseum: c50 European art and traditional.

switzerland

appenzell.

Retonios Mechanisches Musik- und Zaubermuseum

l’auberson.

Musée Baud: c50 mechanical.

W. Brandt: ‘Zur Geschichte der Musikdose und Ihrerheimat Sainte-Croix’, Prometal, xcii (1963); P. Hugger: ‘Sainte-Croix und seine Musikdosen’, Korrespondenzblatt der Schweizerischen Gesellschaft für Volkskunde, lx/3 (1970); Au temps de boîtes à musique d’Alfred Chapuis et Frédy Baud: historique de la boîte à musique et de la musique mécanique (n.d.); F. Baud: Museum alter mechanisches Musikinstrumente Gebrüder Baud, l’Auberson (1972)

basle.

Museum für Völkerkunde und Schweiz: c2000 European traditional and non-European.

E. Schlager: ‘Vom Arbeitsrhythmus zur Musik in Bali’, Basler Beiträge zur Geographie und Ethnologie (1965); U. Ramseyer: Klangzauber: Funktionen aussereuropaisches Musikinstrumenten (1969)

basle.

Musikinstrumentensammlung, Historisches Museum: c1950 European art, traditional, and some non-European incl. Otto Lobeck (violin-builder), Albert Riemeyer, and Wilhelm Bernoulli (brass and drums) collections.

K. Nef: Historisches Museum Basel, Katalog IV: Musikinstrumente (1906); J. Hiestand-Schnellmann: ‘Die Bernoullische Blasinstrumentensammlung im Schloss Griefensee’, Glareana, i/6 (1952); W. Nef: ‘Das neue Musikinstrumenten-Museum’, Musik-Akademie der Stadt Basel, 90. Jahresbericht (1956–7); W. Nef: ‘Ein eingenartige Sammlung von Musikinstrumenten’, Basler Nachrichten, no.503 (1964); W. Bernoulli: ‘Meine Sammlung der historisches Blechblasinstrumenten und Trommeln’, Brass Bulletin, v/6 (1973); W. Nef: Alte Musikinstrumenten in Basel (1974); W. Nef: ‘Die Basler Musikinstrumentensammlung’, Alte und neue Musik II. 50 Jahre Basler Kammerorchester 1926–1976, ed. P. Sacher (1977), 161–85; V. Gutmann: Mit Pauken und Trompeten: Ausstellung ausgewählter Instrumenten aus der Sammlung historischer Blechblasinstrumenten und Trommeln von Dr. H.C. Wilhelm Bernoulli (1982); V. Gutmann: Trommeln und Tambourmajorstöcke in der Sammlung alter Musikinstrumenten des Historisches Museum Basel (1983); W. Nef: ‘Die Musikinstrumentensammlung Otto Lobeck’, Alte Musik I: Praxis und Reflexion: Sonderband der Reihe ‘Basler Jb für historisches Musikpraxis’ zum 50. Jubiläum der Schola Cantorum Basiliensis, ed. P. Reidemeister and V. Gutmann (Winterthur, 1983), 91–106; A. Küng: ‘“Schlegel a Bale”: die erhaltenen Instrumente und ihre Erbauer’, Baseler Jb für historisches Musikpraxis, xi (1987), 63–88; J.H. van der Meer: ‘Gestrichene Saitenklaviere’, Basler Jb für Historische Musikpraxis, xiii (1989), 141–81; Historisches Museum Basel Jahresbericht 1992 (1993) [incl. V. Gutmann: ‘Katalog der Kleinorgeln’, 4–20; M. Kirnbauer: ‘Verzeichnis der Flöteninstrumente’, 21–30]; Historisches Museum Basel: Jahresbericht 1994 (1994) [incl. ‘Die Bestände der Musikinstrumenten-Sammlung des Historischen Museums Basel’; M. Kirnbauer: ‘Verzeichnisse der Rohrblattinstrumente’; G. Heyder: ‘Die Tischzihern’; ‘Verzeichnis der Tischzithern’]; Festschrift Kloster Magdenau 1244–1994 (1994) [incl. M. Kirnbauer: ‘Verzeichniss in der Musikinstrumentensammlung des Historisches Museums Basel’; G. Heyder: ‘Verzeichniss die Tischzithern’; V. Gutmann: ‘Ein Clavichord aus Magdenau in der Musikinstrumentensammlung des Historisches Museum Basel’; V. Gutmann: ‘Die Bestände der Musikinstrumenten-Sammlung, ii: Tangentenklaviere’]; Historisches Museums Basel: Jahresbericht (1996) [incl. V. Gutmann: ‘Die besaiteten Tasteninstrumente’; B.Frei-Heitz and D. Schneller: ‘I. Hammerklaviere’]; V. Gutmann: Historisches Museum Basel: Führer durch die Sammlung (1996); S. Klaus: ‘Die Streichinstrumente in der Musikinstrumenten-Sammlung’, Historische Museum Basel: Jahrsbericht 1997 (1998); S. Klaus: ‘Trompetten und Posaunen in der Musikinstrumenten Museum-Sammlung des historischen Museums Basel’, Historische Museum Basel: Jahrsbericht 1998 (1999)

basle.

Musikwissenschaftliches Institut, Universität Basel: c150 Southeast Asian.

berne.

Bernisches Historisches Museum: c500 European traditional mainly Bernese, Middle Eastern, African, Asian and South American.

W. Altenburg: ‘Alte Musikinstrumente in dem Bernischen Historisches Museum’, ZI, viii (1897–8), 209; E. Rohrer: ‘Eine Tanztrommel der Goldküste’, Jb des Bernischen Historisches Museums (1945); C. von Graffenried: ‘Eine Röhrenzither aus Madagaskar’, Jb des Bernischen Historisches Museums (1965–6); M. Staehelin: ‘Der sogenannte Musettenbass: Forschungen zur schweizerischen Instrumenten und Musikgeschichten des späteren 18. und 19. Jahrhunderts’, Jb des Bernischen Historisches Museums (1969–70), 93–121; O. Adelmann: ‘Unsignierte Instrumente des Schweizer Geigenbauers Hans Krouchdaler’, Jb des Staatlichen Instituts für Musikforschung 1969 (1970); B. Geiser: ‘Die Musikinstrumenten des Historsches Museums Bern’, Glareana, xix/3–4 (1970), 2–7; P. Centlivres: ‘Les Instruments de musique de Perse et d’Afghanistan’, Jb des Bernischen Historisches Museums, li–lii (1971–2), 305–20; D. Perret: ‘Instruments de musique, Chine et Japon: Catalogue’, Jb des Bernischen Historisches Museums, lv–lviii (1975–8), 185–226; H.R. Hösli: ‘Bericht über die Restauration einer Bratsche von hanss korouchdaler (1699), Bernisches Historisches Museum’, Das Musikinstrument, xxxvi/7 (1986)

binningen.

Joseph Bopp Sammlung: c100 mostly European art.

brienz, berne.

Kantonale, Geigenbauschule: c150 Swiss-made violins.

burgdorf.

Schlossmuseum Burgdorf: c60 European art and traditional, Swiss provenance.

E. Leutenegger: ‘Die Musikinstrumentensammlung im Schloss Burgdorf’, Jahresbericht 1955 des Rittersaalvereins Burgdorf (1955), 5–16; E. Leutenegger: ‘Alte Musikinstrumente aus Emmental’, Hochwächter, xi (1955), 14–18; E. Leutenegger: ‘Die Musikinstrumentensamlung in Schloss Burgdorf’, Burgdorf Jb, xxiii (1956), 121–32; J. Hiestand-Schnellmann: ‘Das Musikzimmer im Schloss Burgdorf’, Glareana, ix/4 (1960), 8–10; Musik in Schweiz 1685–1985/Instruments de musique de Suisse 1685–1985 (1985)

burgdorf.

Schweizerisches Zentrum für Volkskultur, Kornhaus Burgdorf: c450 Swiss traditional incl. mechanical and phonographs.

B. Bachmann-Geiser: Kornhaus Burgdorf im Käfigturm: ein schweizerisches Kulturzentrum in Aufbau (1990) [exhibition catalogue]

chexbres.

Asteuropäische Hirteninstrumente, Marcel Cellier collection: c100 Eastern European, esp. Balkan, pastoral woodwind.

chur.

Rätisches Museum: c130 European art and sounding objects.

F. Jakob: Die Baldachin-Orgel von Jenaz heute im Rätischen Museum in Chur (1987)

ebnat-kappel.

Heimatmuseum der Albert Edelmann-Stiftung: c40 European art, traditional, and c50 Toggenburger Halszithern, all with Swiss provenance.

J. Hiestand-Schnellmann: ‘Die Musikinstrumentensammlung von Albert Edelmann’, Glareana, xii/3–4 (1963), 4–6

einsiedeln.

Kloster Einsiedeln, Hillel String Collection: 19th-century bowed string instruments made in Mirecourt, Vogtland and Tirol.

frauenfeld.

Museum des Kantons Thurgau

M.A. Girard: ‘Musik im Schloss Frauenfeld’, Mitteilungen aus dem Thurgauischen Museum, xviii (1967)

geneva.

Musée d’Art et d’Histoire: c250 European.

H. Kling: ‘La Collection des anciens instruments de musique au Musée d’art et d’histoire’, Schweiz Zeitschrift für Instrumentalmusik, ii (1913); K. Nef: ‘Instruments de musique anciens: a propos d’une visite au Musée d’art et d’histoire’, Musique et instruments, xii (1925), 1047, 1049; R. Chavannes: ‘Catalogue descriptif des instruments de musique à cordes frottées ou pincées du Musée’, Geneva, ix (1931), 234–54

geneva.

Musée d’Ethnographie: c2500 European, African, Asian, Australian, Oceanian and American.

G. Montandon: La généalogie des instruments de musique et les cycles de civilisation: étude suivie de catalogue raisonné des instruments de musique du Musée ethnographique de Genève (1919); C. Brailoiu: ‘Les Archives internationales de musique populaire’, Archives suisses d’anthroplogie générale (1947); B. Bartok: ‘Pourquoi et comment recueille-t-on la musique populaire’, Archives internationales de musique populaire (1948); M. Lobsiger-Dellenbach: Népal: catalogue de la collection d’ethnographie (1954); L. Aubert: ‘Sur deux luths marocains’, Musées de Genève, cl (1974); ‘Un instrument de musique indien: le sarod’, Musées de Genève, clxxxiv (1978); ‘Les artisans de la parole: notes sur les griots d’Afrique occidentale’, Musées de Genève, cxcv (1989); ‘La quête de l’intemporel: Constantin Brailoiu et les archives internationales de musique populaire’, Bulletin du Musée d’ethnographie (1985); ‘La vièle-cheval et le luth-singe: regards sur les musiques d’Asie centrale’, Bulletin du Musée d’ethnographie (1986); ‘Les musiciens dans la société newar’, Bulletin du Musée d’ethnographie (1988); L. Aubert: Pianeta musicale: strumenti musicali dei cinque continenti (1991); F. Borel and others: Pom, pom, pom: musiques etcetra (1997)

geneva.

Musée d’Instruments Anciens de Musique: c365 European art, incl. the Fritz and Joachim Ernst collection.

Trésors musicaux des collections suisses: expositions au Château de Nyon (1949) [exhibition catalogue]; J. Gramm: ‘Une visite à la collection d’instruments anciens de M. Fritz Ernst’, Glareana, iii/3 (1954), 1–5; J. Haldenwang: ‘Le Musée d’instruments anciens de musique’, Musées de Genève, iv/33 (1963), 17–19; A. Boresel: ‘Das klingende Museum aus Genf’, IZ, xx (1966), 134–6; E.I. Clerc: Musée d’instruments anciens de musique (1973)

le locle.

Musée d’Horlogerie: mechanical, incl. Maurice Sandoz collection.

lichtensteig.

Fredys Mechanisches Musikmuseum: mechanical.

lucerne.

Handharmonikamuseum Utenberg

lucerne.

Wagner Museum, Städtische Sammlung alter Musikinstrumente: c300 European art, traditional, and non-European, incl. the Heinrich Schumacher collection.

H. Schumacher: Katalog zu der Ausstellung von Musikinstrumente früherer Zeiten (1888); R. Vannes: Katalog der städtische Sammlung alter Musikinstrumente im Richard Wagner Museum Tribschen (1956)

lustmüle.

Rolf H.A. Habisreitinger collection: c20 important Italian bowed string instruments.

neuchtel.

Musée d’Ethnographie: 1200 non-European, mostly African incl. the G. and R. Bardout (Paris) collection.

Z. Estreicher: ‘La musique des Esquimaux Caribou’, Bulletin de la Société Neuchâtel de géographique (1948); Z. Estreicher: ‘Collection Gaston Bardout’, Rapport annuel des bibliothèques et musées de la ville de Neuchatel (1954), 43–71, repr. in Glareana, vii/2 (1958), 4–9; Z. Estreicher: ‘Chants et rythmes de la danse d’hommes Bororo’, recorded by Henry Brandt, Bulletin de la Société Neuchâtel de géographique (1954–5); Musique et sociétés (1977) [exhibition catalogue]; F. Borel: Les sanza (1986)

rheinfelden.

Fricktaler Museum: c25 winds, 17th- to 19th-century.

rivaz, vaud.

Christiane Jaccottet collection: c20 keyboards.

roche.

Musée Suisse de l’Orgue: c80 organs, incl. reeds and parts.

H.J. Modry: ‘New Organ Museum Opens in Roche’, AMIS Newsletter, xiv/1 (1985); Catalogue de l’exposition partielle de la collection (1986)

st gallen.

Historisches Musem: c50 European art and traditional, Asian and African.

W. Nef: Inventar (n.d.) [typescript]

seewen, solothurn.

Schweizerisches Musikautomaten-Museum: mechanical, incl. the Heinrich Weiss-Stauffacher collection. This museum is now part of Schweizerischen Landesmuseums Zürich.

H. Weiss-Stauffacher: ‘Die Welte-Philharmonie Orgel der Sammlung H. Weiss-Stauffacher’, Seewen Sol. Schweiz (1970); ‘Verzeichnis der mechaniches Musikinstrumenten in der Sammlung H. Weiss-Stauffacher, Seewen, So.’, Glareana, xx/3–4 (1971); H. Weiss-Stauffacher and R. Bruhin: Mechanisches Musikinstrumenten und Musikautomaten: Beschreibender Katalog der Seewener Privatsammlung (1975/R); R. Zweifel, H. Weiss-Stauffacher and T. Bürgi: Musikautomaten Museum Seewen (1993)

steffisburg.

Heinrich Brechbühl collection: c300 mechanical.

H. Brechbühl: ‘Heinrich Brechbühl’s Collection of Mechanical Musical Instruments, Steffisburg’, CIMCIM Newsletter, vii (1979)

utzensdorf.

Schloss Landshut: hunting.

G. Boesch: Die Jagdwaffensammlung Dr. René La Roche, Basel (1964)

wädenswil.

Music of Man Archive: c420 European, African, Asian, Oceanian and Native North American.

winterthur.

Walter M. Meier collection: c10 glass, incl. glass harmonicas, sets of musical glasses and a glass trumpet.

zimmerwald, berne.

Karl Burri collection: c600 winds.

zollikon.

Karl Mangold collection: c140 winds and organs.

J. Hiestand-Schnellmann: ‘Ausstellung alter Musikinstrumenten in Zollikon (Sammlung Mangold)’, Glareana, xiii/3–4 (1964), 6–12

zürich.

Museum Bellerive: c250 European art, traditional, some non-Western incl. the Firma Hug & Ciés Musikhistorische Museum.

A.-E. Cherbuliez: Die europäisches Musikinstrumente Wegleitung, Kunstgewerbemuseum der Stadt Zürich (1962); J. Hiestand-Schnellmann: ‘Die Sammlung alter Musikinstrumente im Kunstgewerbemuseum’, Glareana, xv/3–4 (1966), 2–17; J. Hiestand-Schnellmann: ‘Die Ausstellung alter Musikinstrumente im neugestalteten Vestibül der Tonhalle Zürich’, Glareana, xvi/3–4 (1977), 36–9

zürich.

Museum Rietberg: non-Western art and ethnological.

zürich.

Schweizerisches Landesmuseum: c400 European and Swiss traditional.

H. Schumacher: Bericht über die im Schweizerisches Landesmuseum befindlichen Musikinstrumenten (Lucerne, 1905); B. Geiser: Die Zither der Schweiz (1974) [exhibition catalogue]; Musikinstrumenten der Schweiz, 1685–1985 (1985) [exhibition catalogue]

zürich.

Völkerkundemuseum der Universität Zürich: c600 non-European, many African.

M. Szalay, ed.: Das Völkerkundemuseum der Universität Zürich: eine Übersicht (1972)

taiwan

taibei.

Exhibition Rooms, Institute of History and Philology, Academia Sinica: 100 Asian, esp. excavated Chinese archaeological.

taibei.

National Museum of History: c55 Hunan ancient, and Cantonese opera.

tajikistan

dushanabe.

Muzei Muttachidai Respublíkawii Tá richi Kischwazschinosi was San’ati Taswiri: c110 Tajik

tanzania

dar es salam.

National Museum of Tanzania: 120 mainly Tanzanian.

zanzibar.

Sankt Ottilien Missionary Station: c115 African and Southeast Asian.

E. Tremmel: ‘Die Sammlung afrikanischer Musikinstrumente in Missionsmuseum Sankt Ottilien’, Augsburger Jb für Musikwissenschaft, iii (1986), 7–50

thailand

bangkok.

Phipitapan Haeng Chart [National Museum]: c210 Thai, Chinese, Cambodian, Burmese and Laotian

tunisia

carthage.

Centre des Arts et Traditions Populaires, Fonds d’Instruments de Musique: c40.

le bardo.

Musée National du Bardo: Tunisian string instruments and percussion.

sidi ben-saïd.

Museum of Music: mediterranean.

tunis.

Musée du Conservatoire: c30 African and Asian.

turkey

ankara.

Etnoğrafya Müzesi [Ethnographical Museum]: c250 Anatolian and Asian.

istanbul.

Askerî Müzesi [Military Museum]

istanbul.

Topkapi Sarayi Müzesi [Topkapi Palace Museum]: c65 Turkish.

konya.

Müze Müdürlüğü: c65 Central Asian.

Müze: kültür bakanliği: anitlar ve müzeler genel müdürlüğü, konya Müze müdürlüğü (1993)

konya.

Mevlâna Müzesi [Mevlâna Museum]: c50 Dervish

uganda

kampala.

Uganda Museum: 500 Ugandan and other African.

K.P. Wachsmann: The Uganda Museum: Report for the Years 1950–51 (1952); K.M. Trowell and K.P. Wachsmann: Tribal Crafts of Uganda (London, 1953)

ukraine

kiev.

Raisa Dmitrievna Gusac collection: 170 traditional.

L'VIV L'vivskij Istoričeskij Muzej [Historical Museum]: c100 art and traditional.

G.D. Yashtchenko: Catalogue of the Musical instruments of the Lvov Historical Museum (n.d.)

united kingdom

aberdeen.

Marischal Museum, University of Aberdeen: c150 non-European ethnological and archaeological incl. Wilson (Classical and Eastern antiquities), Grant Bey (Egyptian), and William Macgregor collections.

R.W. Reid: Illustrated Catalogue of the Marischal Museum (1912)

barnard castle.

Bowes Museum: c80 European art, mechanical and ethnological.

belfast.

Department of Social Anthropology and Ethnomusicology, Queens University: Balinese gamelan, African, Asian, Middle Eastern and South American.

belfast.

Ulster Museum, Botanic Gardens: c105 European, African, Middle Eastern, Asian, Pacific Rim and American archaeological, medieval and ethnological.

birmingham.

Birmingham Conservatoire of Music: incl. the L.L. Key collection and collection of Dodd bows.

W.H. Morris: Catalogue of Musical Instruments in the Possession of the School (1953); J. Morris and S. Daw: Catalogue of Historic Instruments of the Birmingham School of Music Collection (1975)

birmingham.

City Museum and Art Gallery: c210 European art and ethnological.

birmingham.

Department of Science and Industry, City Museum and Art Gallery: c70 mechanical.

bournemouth.

Russell-Cotes Art Gallery and Museum: c60 European keyboards and worldwide ethnological.

bradford.

Bradford Art Galleries and Museums; see KEIGHLEY, Cliffe Castle Museum, below

Catalogue of the Brass Musical Instruments in the Collections of Bradford Art Galleries and Museums (1991)

brentford, middx.

edinburgh.

Edinburgh University Collection of Historic Musical Instruments (EUCHMI): c2500 European art and traditional (known as Galpin Society Collection from 1968–1980) incl. G. Rendall (woodwind), L.G. Langwill (mostly bassoons), A. Myers (brass), J.B. Dick, C.H. Brackenbury Memorial, part of Glen, part of Mickleburgh, Ross, Shaw-Hellier, M. Whewell, A. Macaulay (plucked strings), J. Blades (percussion), P. Cooke (ethnological) and C. Monk (brass) collections.

G. Melville-Mason, ed.: The Galpin Society: an Exhibition of European Musical Instruments (1968) [exhibition catalogue]; A. Myers: ‘The Glen and Ross Collections of Musical Instruments’, GSJ, xxxviii (1985), 4–8; Handel: a Celebration (1985); T.K. Dibley: The Historic Clarinet Exhibition Handbook (1986); Guide to the Collection: EUCHMI (1987); A. Myers, ed.: Historic Musical Instruments in the Edinburgh University Collection, i: The Illustrations (1990), ii: The Description (1992–) [A: Instruments of Regional Cultures Worldwide; B: Plucked and Hammered String Instruments; C: Bowed String Instruments; D: Flutes and Whistles; E: Double Reed Woodwind; F: Single Reed Woodwind; G: Bagpipes; H: Basswind; I: Free Reed Instruments and Musical Glasses; J: Percussion; K: Ancillary Items]; iii: The Electronic Piture Gallery <www.music.ed.ac.uk/euchmi>; C.D.S. Field: ‘John Donaldson and 19th-Century Acoustics Teaching in the Univeristy of Edinburgh’, Musical Acoustics: Edinburgh 1997, 509–20

edinburgh.

John Barnes keyboard collection

edinburgh.

Royal Museum of Scotland (formerly Royal Scottish Museum and National Museum of Antiquities of Scotland): c500 European and non-European, incl. c150 Scottish, esp. bagpipes and harps, incl. the D. Fraser (bagpipes), Ross (bagpipes), also J. Jenkins (ethnological) collection.

R.B. Armstrong: The Irish and Highland Harps (1902, 2/1969); Catalogue of the National Museum (1892); H. Cheape and others: Pipes, Harps, and Fiddles (1976); J. Jenkins: Man and Music: a Survey of Traditional Non-European Musical Instuments (1983); H. Cheape and others: At Home: Ten Years of Collecting from Historic Scotland (1984); A. Myers: ‘The Glen and Ross Collections of Musical Instruments’, GSJ, xxxviii (1985), 4–8; H. Cheape: The Wealth of a Nation in the National Museums of Scotland (1989)

edinburgh.

Russell Collection of Early Keyboard Instruments, Faculty of Music, Edinburgh University: c50.

R. Russell: The Harpsichord and Clavichord (1959, 3/1979); S. Newman and P. Williams: The Russell Collection and Other Early Keyboard Instruments in St. Cecilia’s Hall (1968); J. Barnes: ‘The Flemish Instruments of the Russell Collection’, Colloquium restauratieproblemen (1971), 35–9; C. Napier: A Brief Guide to the Russell Collection of Harpsichords and Clavichords (1981, 2/1986); C. Napier: Checklist of the Instruments in the Russell Collection of Early Keyboard Instruments (1982); ‘“Notes That Wing Their Heavenly Ways”: … New Handel Organ in St. Cecilia’s Hall’, AMIS Newsletter, xxvii/2 (1998)

glasgow.

Art Gallery and Museum: 370 incl. part of the R. Glen (European) and H.G. Farmer worldwide ethnological collections.

[H.G. Farmer:] Instruments of Music: History and Development (1941) [exhibition catalogue]; H.G. Farmer: ‘The Glen Collection’, Art Review (1945); H.G. Farmer: ‘Some Oriental Musical Instruments at Kelvingrove’, Scottish Art Review, viii (1961), 1–4; A. Myers: ‘The Glen and Ross Collections of Musical Instruments’, GSJ, xxxviii (1985), 4–8

glasgow.

Hunterian Museum and Art Gallery, University of Glasgow: c200 incl. ethnological and B. Hague (wind) collection.

goudhurst, kent.

Finchcocks Collection, Living Museum of Music: c75 keyboards, the Katrina and Richard Burnett collection.

R. Burnett: ‘English Pianos at Finchcocks’, EMc, xiii (1985), 45–51; W. Dow: Finchcocks Collection, Catalogue: the Richard Burnett Collection of Historical Keyboard Instruments (1989); R. and K. Burnett: Finchcocks Past & Present (1989)

hailsham, e. sussex.

Alice Schulmann-Frank Collection of Musical Instruments and the Michelham Priory Collection: c260 European and non-European.

huddersfield.

Tolson Memorial Museum: c150 European.

ipswich.

Ipswich Borough Council Museum and Art Galleries: c135 ethnological, incl. Muir (East African) and Partridge (Nigerian) collections.

keighley.

Cliffe Castle Museum, Bradford Art Galleries and Museum: c150, two-thirds European, one-third non-European.

A. Myers and A. Cartledge: Catalogue of Brass Instruments in the Collection of Bradford Art Galleries and Museums (1991)

kidderminster.

Hartlebury Castle, Hereford and Worcester County Museum: mainly European art.

kilmarnock.

Dean Castle: c100 art incl. Howard de Walden, and C. van Raalte collections.

Dean Castle: Musical Instruments (1975)

kingston upon thames.

School of Music, Kingston University: Chinese and Indian.

leeds.

Abbey House Museum: c250 European.

leeds.

Department of Ethnography, City Museum: c135.

leicester.

Charles Moore Collection of Musical Instruments, University of Leicester: c75 European.

S.J. Weston: A Catalogue of Instruments in the Charles Moore Collection (1981)

oxford.

Pitt Rivers Museum, University of Oxford: mainly non-European, incl. H. Balfour, B. Blackwood, Hutton, Mills, E. Pritchard, part of Tagore (Indian) and E.B. Taylor collections.

H. Balfour: ‘Report on a Collection of Musical Instruments from the Siamese, Malay States and Perak’, Fasciculi Malayensis: Anthropology, 2a, ed. N. Annandale (Liverpool, 1904), 1–18; A. Baines: Bagpipes, Occasional Papers of Technology, ix (1960), ed. H.T. La Rue (1995); H.T. La Rue: Pitt Rivers Museum: a Whole Room For Music (1991)

saffron walden, essex.

Saffron Walden Museum: c125 archaeological and ethnological.

st helier, jersey.

Société Jersiaise: c20 from local churches and bands.

R. Falle: ‘A List of the Musical Wind Instruments in the Museum of the Société Jersiaise’, Société Jersiaise Bulletin, no.16 (1954)

sheffield.

Sheffield City Museum: c50 European winds, incl. Lady Stanley Clarke, John Parr and a few from Jeremy Montagu collections.

shipley, w. yorks.

Museum of Victorian Reed Organs and Harmoniums: c50, Phil and Pam Fluke collection.

P. and P. Fluke: Victorian Reed Organs and Harmoniums: the Collection of Phil and Pam Fluke (1985)

spalding, lincs.

Rutland Cottage Music Museum: c500 mostly mechanical.

swindon.

Museum and Art Gallery: c60 European art, traditional and non-European, many from F. Winslow collection.

torquay.

Torquay Museum: c50 European and Asian from U. Daubeny, and Paget-Blake collections.

U. Daubeny: Orchestral Wind Instruments, Ancient and Modern (London, 1920)

totnes, devon.

Dartington College of Arts: c50 Japanese, Indian, and Balinese gamelan.

twickenham.

Royal Military School of Music Museum: c500 military from Royal United Services Institute, Buckingham Palace and W.F. Blandford collections.

warrington.

Museum and Art Gallery: c20 European art.

wigan.

History Shop: 22 European art, William Rimmer collection.

wootton bassett, wilts.

John Webb collection: 400 wind, mostly brass.

york.

Castle Museum: c250.

G.B. Wood: Musical Instruments in the York Castle Museum (1938)

united states of america

abilene, tx.

Department of Music, McMurry University: c30 Western incl. Thomas H. Greer collection.

albuquerque.

Maxwell Museum of Anthropology, University of New Mexico: c700 ethnological and archaeological, esp. Native American (particularly Southwest), east African and Asian, incl. the Kidd collection.

Man: the Music-Maker (1973) [exhibition catalogue]

ambridge, pa.

Old Economy Village: c35 Western art, a few military and mechanical.

ann arbor.

Stearns Collection of Musical Instruments, School of Music, University of Michigan: over 2200 worldwide.

A.A. Stanley: Catalogue of the Stearns Collection of Musical Instruments (1918, 2/1921); R.A. Warner: ‘The Stearns Collection of Musical Instruments’, JVdGSA, ii (1965), 38–48; B.M. Smith: Two-Hundred Forty-One European Chordophones in the Stearns Collection (1981); W. Malm: ‘Stearns Musical Instruments: an Exotic Collection’, Ann Arbor Magazine (1986), 14–19; J.M. Borders: European and American Wind and Percussion Instruments: Catalogue of the Stearns Collection of Musical Instruments, University of Michigan (1988); The Stearns Collection of Musical Instruments: the First Century, 1899 to 1998 (1998)

ashburnham, ma.

Edmund Michael and Patricia Frederick collection: 25 string keyboards.

E.M. Frederick: ‘The “Romantic” Sound in Four Pianos of Chopin’s Era’, 19CM, iii/2 (1979), 150–53; A. Porter: ‘Musical Events: a Fine Resource’, New Yorker, (26 Oct 1981); G. Hayes: ‘How Many Pianos Does It Take to Fill A House?’, Early Keyboard Studies Newsletter, i/2 (1985); M. Boriskin: ‘They Prefer Pianos to Furniture’, Piano Quarterly (Summer 1985); E.M. Frederick: ‘English vs. Viennese Fortepianos’, Haydn’s Piano Sonatas (1990); I. Braus: ‘Early Pianos: a Conversation with Michael Frederick’, Early Keyboard Studies Newsletter, vii/3 (1993)

bakersfield, ca.

Kern County Museum: c30, half mechanical, also country-and-western.

baltimore.

Maryland Historical Society: c40 locally made or owned, incl. 15 Baltimore pianos.

G.R. Weidman: Furniture in Maryland, 1740–1940 (1984)

bartlesville, ok.

Woolaroc Museum, Frank Phillips Foundation: incl. c25 Native American.

bellevue, wa.

Experience Music Project: c100, mainly acoustic and electric guitars.

beloit, wi.

Logan Museum of Anthropology, Beloit College: c150, half Native North and Central American, African and from the Pacific Rim.

bennington, vt.

Bennington Museum: c30 with local associations.

berea, ky.

Berea College Appalachian Museum: c25 traditional Appalachian.

berkeley.

Department of Music, University of California: c110 mainly Western art, also African and Asian incl. Ansley K. Salz (string) collection.

D.D. Boyden: Catalogue of the Collection of Musical Instruments in the Department of Music, University of California, Berkeley (1972); J.A. Emerson: Musical Instruments, East and West, i (1972); Catalog of an Exhibit on the Occasion of the 12th Congress of IMS (1977)

berkeley.

Phoebe Hearst Museum of Anthropology (formerly Robert H. Lowie Museum of Anthropology), University of California: 1050 mainly Native North and Latin American ethnological and archaeological, esp. Californian and Peruvian, also African, Asian, Australian, Oceanian and European.

bethlehem, pa.

Moravian Museum of Bethlehem: c35, many trombones, by local makers.

C.S. Mayes: A Descriptive Catalogue of Historic Percussion, Wind and Stringed Instruments in Three Pennsylvania Museums (MA thesis, Florida State U., 1974)

bismark, nd.

Museum of State Historical Society of North Dakota: c160 Western and Native American.

bloomfield hills, mi.

Cranbrook Institute of Science: c80 worldwide ethnological.

bloomington, in.

Musical Instrument Collection, William Hammond Mathers Museum of World Cultures, Indiana University: c1800 worldwide, esp. American, African, Southeast Asian, and Balkan traditional and ethnological incl. Robert Ellison (Native North American Plains), Frances Cossard (mainly Japanese), Georg Herzog-Erich von Hornbostel, Carl Anton Worth (Sudanese and Javanese puppet and gamelan), and Laura Bolton collections.

P. Gold: Traditional Music of the World (1968); L. Boulton: Musical Instruments of World Cultures (New York, 1972); ‘Boulton Collection Donated to Arizona State’, AMIS Newsletter, xii/2 (1983)

boise, id.

Idaho State Historical Society: c50 Western art, traditional and popular.

boston.

Boston Symphony Orchestra: c100 Western and non-Western art, traditional, ethnological incl. Casadesus and John S. Barnet collections.

‘BSO Collection Reinstalled’, AMIS Newsletter, xx/1 (1991)

boston.

Musical Instruments Collection, Museum of Fine Arts: c1200 Western art, traditional and ethnological, incl. North and South American; African, Asian, esp. 1840 Blora Javanese gamelan; the Leslie Lindsey Mason (formerly Francis W. Galpin [Western art, traditional, and non-Western], and Moule [Chinese]), Edwin M. Ripin (keyboards), Douglas Diehl, Peggy Stewart Coolidge, Harold Priest and Searles/Rowland collections.

‘Leslie Lindsey Mason Collection of Musical Instruments’, Museum of Fine Arts Bulletin, xv (1917); N. Bessaraboff: Ancient Musical Instruments: an Organological Study of the Musical Instruments in the Leslie Lindsey Mason Collection (1941); N.B. Bodley [Bessaraboff]: ‘The Auloi of Meroe’, American Journal of Archaeology, l/2 (1946); N. Williamson: ‘The Leslie Lindsey Mason Collection’, Museum of Fine Arts Bulletin, lix/315 (1961); N. Williamson: ‘The Musical Instrument Collection at Boston’, VdGSA, iii (1966); R.M. Rosenbaum: Galpin Collection and Galpin Consort, AMIS Newsletter, ii/3 (1973); Ripin Collection Merlin Harpsichord, AMIS Newsletter, iii/2 (1974); B. Lambert: ‘The Musical Instruments Collection, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston’, CIMCIM Newsletter, x (1982); B. Lambert: Musical Instruments Collection: Checklist of Instruments on Exhibition (1983); D.S. Quigley: ‘Museum of Fine Arts, Boston: Collection of Musical Instruments Acquisitions from 1972–1987’, FoMRHI Quarterly, xlix (1987); ‘MFA Retains Searles/Rowland Collection’, AMIS Newsletter, xxi/2 (1992); D. Kuronen: ‘The Musical Instruments of Benjamin Crehore’, Journal of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, iv (1992); J. Koster: Keyboard Musical Instruments in the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston (1994)

boston.

New England Conservatory of Music: c125, mostly Asian, also Western, incl. Eben Tourjee collection.

E. Burnett: A Catalogue of the Collection of Ancient Instruments Owned by the New England Conservatory (MA thesis, New England Conservatory of Music, 1967)

boston.

Sheridan Germann collection: c20, half string keyboards.

S. Germann: ‘The Accidental Collector’, Early Keyboard Studies Newsletter, v/3 (1991)

boston.

Society for the Preservation of New England Antiquities: over 50 Western art and popular.

bowling green, ky.

Kentucky Museum, Western Kentucky University: c35 mainly Western popular, art and traditional, a few non-Western.

browning, mt.

Museum of the Plains Indian and Crafts Center: c30 Plains Native American, esp. Sioux.

burlington, vt.

Robert Hull Fleming Museum, University of Vermont: c170 worldwide ethnological, some American popular.

cambridge, ma.

Department of Music, Harvard University: c100 Western and Asian art, traditional, ethnological incl. Ralph Isham and Edward R. Hewitt collections.

S.E. Thompson: Checklist (1990)

cambridge, ma.

G. Norman Eddy collection: c475 winds and string keyboards.

F.N. and G.N. Eddy: ‘Four Flageolets’, AMIS Newsletter, i/4 (1972); T. Good and G.N. Eddy: The Eddy Collection of Musical Instruments: a Checklist (San Francisco, 1985)

cambridge, ma.

Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology: c2000 worldwide, half Native North American.

carbondale, il.

Southern Illinois University Museum: c250 Middle Eastern, American, Asian ethnological and some archaeological.

charleston, sc.

Charleston Museum: c75 used locally, incl. Siegling Music House collection.

charlottesville, va.

Thomas Jefferson Memorial Association: 7 Jefferson-related art.

W.H. Adams: The Eye of Thomas Jefferson (1976); H. Cripe: Thomas Jefferson and Music (1974); S. Stein: The Worlds of Thomas Jefferson at Monticello (New York, 1993)

chicago.

Department of Anthropology, Field Museum of Natural History: c3800, over half American ethnological and archaeological, also African, Middle Eastern, Asian, Oceanian and European.

S.C. De Vale: ‘The Gamelan’, Field Museum of Natural History Bulletin (1978)

chicago.

Oriental Institute Museum, University of Chicago: c40 archaeological Egyptian and Near Eastern.

cincinnati.

Cincinnati Art Museum: c775 Western art, traditional and non-Western ethnological, incl. William Howard Doane collection and loans from Metropolitan Museum of Art.

E. Winternitz: Musical Instruments: Collection of the Cincinnati Art Museum (1949) [catalogue]; Cincinnati Art Museum Handbook (1977)

claremont, ca.

Kenneth G. Fiske Museum of Musical Instruments, Claremont Colleges: c1200 Western, incl. c450 Asian, African, ethnological North and South American, Oceanian incl. Curt Janssen, Leon Whitsell and Jack Coleman (winds) collections.

A.R. Rice: ‘The Curtis W. Janssen Collection’, Journal of the International Trumpet Guild, xiv/3 (1990)

clarksdale, ms.

Delta Blues Museum: over 30, American acoustic and electric guitars, also traditional and popular.

cleveland.

Western Reserve Historical Society Museum: c100.

T. Albrecht: An Annotated Catalogue of Musical Instruments in the Collection of the Western Reserve Historical Society (1978) [typescript]

colorado springs, co.

Colorado Springs Museum: over 100 mainly music boxes, also Western, and Native American archaeological and ethnological

concord, nh.

New Hampshire Historical Society Museum: c65 Western art, traditional and popular used locally.

B.D. Turcott: ‘Concord Musical Instrument Makers’, Historical New Hampshire, xxii/1 (1967), 18–27; E. Wall: ‘Abraham Prescott: Bass Viol Maker of Deerfield and Concord’, Historical New Hampshire, xlii/2 (1987), 101–23; W. Copley: ‘Musical Instrument Makers of New Hampshire, 1800–1860’, Historical New Hampshire, xlvi/4 (1991), 231–48

corning, ny.

Corning Museum of Glass: c15, 7 glass instruments and whistles.

costa mesa, ca.

Christian and Kathleen Eric collection: c300 music boxes.

davenport, ia.

Putnam Museum of History and Natural Science: c35 European art, traditional, popular and Native North American.

deansboro, ny.

Deansboro Musical Museum: incl. Arthur and Elsie Sanders collection, auctioned 1998.

L. Libin: ‘The Sad End of an Era’, AMIS Newsletter, xxvii/3 (1998); A. and E. Sanders: ‘The Musical Museum’, AMIS Newsletter, xxvii/3 (1998)

dearborn, mi.

Henry Ford Museum and Greenfield Village: over 600 mainly American art, popular and band, incl. D.S. Pillsbury (brass), and Chickering (piano) collections.

Chickering & Sons: Pianofortes at the Exhibition of 1856 (1857); Under the Auspices of Chickering & Sons: Catalogue of the Exhibition, Horticultural Hall, Boston (1902); R.E. Eliason: Brass Instrument Key and Valve Mechanisms Made in America Before 1875, with Special Reference to the D.S. Pillsbury collection (DMA diss., U. of Missouri, 1969); V. Angelescu: ‘The Henry Ford Collection of Instruments’, Violins, xxi (1960), 3–9, 46, 48–53, 97–102, 138–44, 173; R.E. Eliason: D.S. Pillsbury Collection of Brass Instruments (1972); R.E. Eliason: Graves & Company: Musical Instrument Makers (1975); R.E. Eliason: Early American Brass Makers (Nahville, TN, 1979)

decorah, ia.

Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum: c100 European art and traditional having belonged to Norwegian Americans.

D.D. Henning and others: Norwegian American Wood Carving of the Upper Midwest (1978)

denver.

Denver Museum of Natural History: c725 mainly Native North and Latin American archaeological, ethnographic, also African, Oceanian and Asian.

detroit.

Children’s Museum: c300 African, Asian and American.

detroit.

Detroit Institute of Arts: c70 Western art, traditional, and some ethnological (formerly exhibited the Edith J. Freeman collection).

Musical Instruments Through the Ages (1952) [exhibition catalogue Toledo, Ohio, Museum of Art]; Music and Art (1958) [exhibition guide, U. of Minnesota]

edwardsville, il.

University Art Museum, Southern Illinois University: c125 mainly European art, also Asian incl. Carl H. Tollefsen, Kiburz Flute, and African collections.

A.R. Rice: ‘Southern Illinois University Checklist Prepared’, AMIS Newsletter, xx/3 (1991), 8–9

elmira, ny.

Chemung County Historical Centre: c50 Western art and popular.

flagstaff, az.

Museum of Northern Arizona: c350 southwest Native American.

franklin, pa.

DeBence Antique Music World: 125 mechanical.

‘DeBence Antique Music World’, AMIS Newsletter, xxiv/1 (1995)

hartford, ct.

Connecticut Historical Society Museum: c35 Connecticut-origin.

harvard, ma.

Fruitlands Museums: c35 incl. Native American, Shaker, Western art and traditional.

homer, ny.

The Ralph and Virginia Dudgeon collection: c200 Western, half brass.

honolulu.

Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum: c640 Hawaiian and Oceanian.

Te Rangi Hiroa [Peter H. Buck]: ‘Section 9: Musical Instruments’, Arts and Crafts of Hawaii, (1957); Pahu and Pūnio (1980) [drum exhibition catalouge]; J. Koster: ‘Report from Hawaii’, AMIS Newsletter, xxi/3 (1992)

houston.

Anthropology Department, Houston Museum of Natural Science: c35 ethnological.

indianapolis, in.

Indiana State Museum: c70 European art, popular and mechanical.

iowa city, ia.

University of Iowa: c40.

D. Ross: Musical Instruments at the University of Iowa: a Catalogue (1979)

ivoryton, ct.

The Company of Fifers and Drummers: c195 mainly American and European fifes and drums, also bugles.

S. Cifaldi: ‘The Company of Fifers and Drummers’, Sonneck Society for American Music Bulletin, xvi/2 (1990), 50–53

jacksonville, al.

E. Lee Chaney collection: c30 reed organs.

E.L. Chaney: ‘Three Rare Organs’, ROS Bulletin, viii/1 (1989), 20–23; E.L. Chaney: ‘When Reed Organs Went to War’, ROS Bulletin (1990), 6–10

kalamazoo, mi.

Kalamazoo Valley Museum: c95 esp. Kalamazoo-made, also African and Asian ethnological.

kenosha, wi.

G. Leblanc Corporation Collection: c200 Western woodwind and brass.

kent, oh.

Hugh A. Glauser School of Music, Center for the Study of World Musics, Kent State University: c100 African, Asian, Pacific, Middle Eastern.

lawton, ok.

Percussive Arts Society Museum: c300.

‘Growth Reflected in PAS Museum Expansion’, AMIS Newsletter, xxiv/3 (1994)

le mars, ia.

Parkinson Collection of Historical Musical Instruments (loan), Plymouth County Historical Museum: c500 worldwide.

lewisburg, pa.

Riley County Historical Society and Museum: c60 European popular, traditional and art.

manoa, hi.

Music Department, University of Hawaii: over 1500 from the Pacific Rim.

memphis.

Memphis Pink Palace Museum: c35 Western art, popular and ethnological.

middletown, ct.

Collection of Musical Instruments, Wesleyan University: 500 mainly non-Western esp. Ghanaian, Javanese, Indian, East Asian, also electronic and experimental.

milwaukee.

Milwaukee Public Museum (affiliated with University of Wisconsin): c400 worldwide art and ethnological.

minden, ne.

Harold Warp Pioneer Village: c60 Western, regional, some ethnological.

monroe, mi.

Monroe County Historical Museum: c40 mainly band.

nashville, tn.

Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum

nashville, tn.

Cumberland Science Museum: c85 mainly African, Asian and Middle Eastern ethnological.

nazareth, pa.

C.F. Martin Guitar Museum: over 30, mainly guitars, other fretted.

M. Longworth: Martin Guitars: a History (1975, 3/1988); J. Washburn and R. Johnston: Martin Guitars: an Illustrated Celebration (Emmaus, PA, 1997)

nazareth, pa.

Museum of Moravian Historical Society: c60.

L. Libin: ‘Nazareth Piano may be among America’s First’, Moravian Music Journal, xxxiii/1 (1988), 2–6

newark, nj.

Newark Museum: 300 mainly ethnological, esp. African and Tibetan, incl. the Russell Barkley Kingman (European art) collection.

Catalogue of the Tibetan Collection (1950); ‘The Russell Barkley Kingman Collection of European Art Instruments’, The Museum, xiv/1 (1962)

Heard Museum of Native Cultures and Art: c600 ethnological primarily Native North American, African.

pine bluff, ar.

Band Museum: c1200 mainly American, incl. Jerry G. Horne collection.

S. Yount: ‘Formation of Band Museum’, AMIS Newsletter, xxiv/2 (1995)

pittsburgh.

Division of Anthropology, Carnegie Museum of Natural History: c475 worldwide ethnological, esp. Costa Rican and Colombian archaeological ocarinas.

pittsburgh.

Tamburitzan Folk Arts Center: 500 European traditional (esp. Balkan) and non-Western ethnological.

portland, me.

Maine Historical Society Museum: c30 Western art and traditional.

portland, or.

Oregon Historical Society Museum: c60 Western used locally, some Native American.

portland, or.

Rasmussen Collection of Northwest Coast Indian Art, Portland Art Museum: c15.

E. Gunther: Art in the Life of the Northwest Coast Indians (1966)

potsdam, ny.

Crane School of Music, State University College: Charles N. Lanphere collection, over 100 Middle Eastern from Biblical period, incl. reconstructions, Asian, Australian, from Madagascar, the Philippines and Siberia; Washburn Collection, c150 African and Asian.

C.N. Lanphere: The First Ten Thousand Years of Music: Music of the Bible (2/1972); African and Asian Musical Instruments (1981) [exhibition catalogue]

poughkeepsie, ny.

Treasure Room, Historical Musical Instruments Collection, Department of Music, Vassar College: over 50 Western, art esp. keyboards.

‘Instruments in Vassar’s Collection (Partial Listing)’, AMIS Newsletter, xxvii/3 (1998)

providence, ri.

Rhode Island Historical Society Museum: c40, mainly brass.

provo, ut.

Museum of Art, Brigham Young University: c150 non-Western and Western, incl. Lloyd Miller and Lotta Van Buren collections.

red wing, mn.

Goodhue County Historial Society Museum: c40 mainly Western art and traditional.

rochester, ny.

Helen R. and Charles R. Valenza flute collection: over 60 European and American art

Historic Flutes from Private Collections (1986) [exhibition catalogue, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York]

rolling hills, ca.

Kermit Welch collection: c225 woodwinds.

st johnsbury, vt.

Fairbanks Museum of Natural Science and Planetarium: c75 mainly ethnological, and some American winds and string instruments.

st joseph, mo.

St. Joseph Museum: c75, mainly Native American, also non-Western ethnological and some Western.

st paul.

Minnesota Historical Society Museum: c175 Western.

st paul.

The Schubert Club Museum of Musical Instruments: c2100 worldwide, incl. 100 keyboards, Western art, traditional, band, mechanical and ethnological, esp. African and Indian, and 60 phonographs, most from William and Ida Kugler collection.

A. Gage: ‘Incredible Music Machines: the History of the Phonograph 1877-1927’, Minnesota Monthly, xxi/10 (1987); T. Wenberg: Violin & Bow Makers of Minnesota (1988); B. Carlson: The Schubert Club Museum (1991); B. Weiss: Song of India (1992) [exhibition catalogue]

salem, ma.

Peabody Essex Museum: c300 mainly Asian (particularly Chinese), Native American, from Hawaiian Islands, African ethnological, and some Western art.

salem, sc.

Old Salem (Moravian Community)

J. Watson: ‘Claviers for Salem: Historic Instruments in the Salem Moravian Community’, Moravian Music Journal, xxxi/1 (1986); ‘Historic Tannenberg Organ from Old Salem’, AMIS Newsletter, xxviii/3 (1999)

salt lake city.

Museum of Church History and Art, Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints: c75 Western art and popular.

san diego.

San Diego Museum of Man: c300 ethnological mainly North American and Mexican, also African, Asian and Oceanian.

san diego.

Harry Partch collection, University of California

T. Kakinuma: The Musical Instruments of Harry Partch as an Apparatus of Production in Musical Theatre (diss., U. of California, 1989); D.A. Savage: Voice and Soul: Intrinsic Description of Harry Partch’s Keyboard and String Instruments (diss., U. of California, 1994)

san francisco.

Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco: c270 Western and ethnological incl. Jascha Heifitz’s 1742 Guarneri del Gesu violin.

santa ana, ca.

Bowers Memorial Museum: c70 pre-Columbian, archaeological and a few Western.

santa barbara, ca.

Santa Barbara Historical Society Museum: c300 bells worldwide, c15 Western.

santa barbara, ca.

Department of Music, University of California: c900 East Asian, southeast Asian, African, Middle Eastern, pre-Columbian and Western, incl. Henry Eichheim collection.

Department of Music, Stanford University: c65 string instruments esp. bowed, Harry R. Lange collection.

H.W. Myers: ‘Stanford’s Lange Collection Profiled’, AMIS Newsletter, xiv/3 (1985)

sterling, co.

Overland Trail Museum: c50 mainly Western used locally.

sturbridge, ma.

Old Sturbridge Village: c110 made or used in New England before 1840.

superior, wi.

Douglas County Historical Society: c50 Western used locally.

tallahassee, fl.

Department of Anthropology, Florida State University: c65 worldwide, especially Peru, Panama, and Montana.

tallahassee, fl.

James Roberts Instrument Collection, Florida State University

K.R. Gengo: The James Roberts Instrument Collection: a Documentation and Description (MM thesis, Florida State U., 1994)

toluca lake, ca.

Emil Richards collection: c600 percussion worldwide.

topeka, ks.

Kansas State Historical Society and Kansas Museum of History: c150 Western art, popular, and traditional made or used in Kansas.

tucson, az.

c500 ethnological and archaeological southwestern and Mexican Native American, some Asian.

E.A. Morris: ‘Basketmaker Flutes From the Prayer Rock District, Arizona’, American Antiquity, xxiv/4 (1959), 406–11; B.M. Bakkegard and E.M. Morris: ‘Seventh-Century Flutes from Arizona’, EthM, v/3 (1961), 184–6; D.N. Brown: ‘The Distribution of Sound Instruments in the Prehistoric Southwestern United States’, EthM, xi/1 (1967), 71–90; L. Queen: ‘Southwestern Indian Musical Instruments’, Smoke Signal, xxxv (1978); A. Ferg: ‘Amos Gustina, Apache Fiddle Maker’, American Indian Art Magazine, vi/3 (1981), 28–35; R.W. Payne: ‘Indian Flutes of the Southwest’, JAMIS, xv (1989), 5–31

tulsa.

Anthropology Department, Gilcrease Museum: c40 mainly Native American.

tulsa.

Native American Collection, Philbrook Museum of Art: c30 mainly Plains tribes.

urbana-champaign, il.

Band Museum, University of Illinois: worldwide incl. Carl Busch, some from Lloyd Farrar collections.

C.T. Carrell: A Catalogue of the Brass Musical Instruments of the Carl Busch Collection at the University of Illinois (DMA diss., U. of Illinois, 1996); K.L. Cox: A Catalog of the Clarinets in the University of Illinois Bands Museum (DMA diss., U. of Illinois, 1997)

urbana-champaign, il.

School of Music, Division of Musicology, University of Illinois: c90 Middle Eastern, Asian, Native North and Latin American incl. permanent loan of Peruvian archaeological from Krannert Art Museum

J.R. Haefer: A Checklist of Folk and Non-European Musical Instruments in University of Illinois Collections (1974) [typescript]

National Museum of American History (formerly Museum of History and Technology) Smithsonian Institution: c5000 American and European art, traditional, jazz and popular, incl. 268 keyboards and Hugo Worch (keyboards), part of Mrs. W.D. Frishmuth, and Janos Scholz (cello bow) collections.

T. Wilson: Prehistoric Art, or The Origin of Art as Manifested in the Works of Prehistoric Man (1898); H.W. Krieger: Material Culture of the People of Southeastern Panama (1926); F. Densmore: Handbook of the Collection of Musical Instruments in the United States National Museum (1927/R); J.D. Shortridge: Italian Harpsichord Building in the 16th and 17th Centuries (1960); A Checklist of Keyboard Instruments at the Smithsonian Institution (1967); J.T. Fesperman: Organs in Early America (1968) [exhibition brochure]; J. Fesperman: ‘Music and Instruments at the Smithsonian Institution’, CMc, vi (1968), 63–5; C.A. Hoover: Harpsichords and Clavichords (1969); J. Fesperman: A Snetzler Chamber Organ of 1761 (1970); C.A. Hoover: Music Machines: American Style (1971) [exhibition catalogue]; J.S. Odell: Plucked Dulcimers: a Checklist of Appalachian Dulcimers and Similar Instruments in the Collection of the Division of Musical Instruments (1971); R. Eliason: Keyed Bugles in the United States (1972); J.S. Odell: A Checklist of Banjos in the Collections of the Division of Musical Instruments (1973); C.A. Hoover: History of Music Machines (1975); H.R. Hollis: Pianos in the Smithsonian Institution (1975); Checklist of Keyboard Instruments at the Smithsonian Institution (1975); G. Sturm: ‘Exhibition of Violins and Bows in the Smithsonian Collection’, Journal of the Violin Society of America, v/2 (1979), 75–102; ‘Smithsonian Acquires Important Bowed Strings’, AMIS Newsletter, viii/3 (1979); L.E. Herman: The Harmonious Craft: American Musical Instruments (1979) [exhibition brochure]; Classical Bowed Stringed Instruments from the Smithsonian Institution (1986); G. Sturm and W. Monical: American Violin Makers before 1930 (1987) [exhibition catalogue]; M.K. O’Brien: ‘The Smithsonian Clavichords’, Early Keyboard Journal, x (1992), 121–78; J.E. Hasse: The Life and Genius of Duke Ellington (1993); Piano Roles: Three Hundred Years of Life with the Piano (1999)

washington, dc.

National Park Service, US Department of the Interior: western art and traditional, ethnological, archaeological, esp. Native American.

wichita, ks.

Flutes of the World, Betty Austin Hensley Collection: over 350 Western art, traditional, popular and non-Western ethnological flutes.

B.A. Hensley: Flutes of the World: a Checklist (1983)

wichita, ks.

Thurlow Lieurance Indian Flutes, Wichita State University: c25 flutes, half Native North American.

B.A. Hensley: Thurlow Lieurance Indian Flutes (1990)

wilbraham, ma.

Robert S. Howe collection: c250.

williamsburg, va.

DeWitt Wallace Gallery, Colonial Williamsburg: c80 mainly English and American 18th-century art.

M. Hamilton-Phillips: ‘Magnificent Keyboards of Colonial Williamsburg’, Ovation, vii/6 (1986)

williamstown, ma.

Department of Music, Williams College: c50 Western art, incl. Telford Taylor collection.

wiscasset, me.

The Musical Wonder House: large number of mechanical.

york, pa.

Historical Society of York County: c50 Western art, traditional used locally

uruguay

montevideo.

Museo Histórico Nacional

montivedo.

Museo Romántico

uzbekistan

samarkand.

Museum of Uzbek History, Culture and Arts: c60 traditional Usbeg and documentation of Tashkent musical-instrument factory.

tashkent.

Applied Arts Museum of Uzbekistan: c80 important Uzbeg.

National Museum of Vietnam

yugoslavia

belgrade.

Etnografski Muzej [Ethnographical Museum]: c355 from throughout Yugoslavia and surrounding countries.

Narodni muzicki instrumenti jugoslavie (1967)

belgrade. i

nstitute of Musicology of the Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts: c60 regional.

belgrade.

Fakultet Muzicke, Univerzitet Umetnosti u Beogradu [Faculty of Musical Art, University of Arts in Belgrade]: c500 mostly Eastern European.

belgrade.

Muzej Africke, Universitet Umetnosti u Beogradu [African Museum, University of Arts in Belgrade]: c40 African.

A. Gojković: Africki muzicki instrumenti (1987) [catalogue]

zaïre

bukavu.

Département d’Anthropologie Culturelle, IRSAC: c45 regional.

kinshasa.

Institut des Musée Nationaux du Zaïre (IMNZ): c2200 traditional

zambia

livingstone.

Livingstone Museum

A.M. Jones: ‘African Music in Northern Rhodesia and some other places’, Occasional Papers of the Rhodes-Livingstone Museum (1974); A.A. Mensah: Music and Dance in Zambia (1971)

mbala.

Moto-Moto Museum: over 140 Northern and Central Zambian (Bemba, Bisa, Lala, Mambwe and Inamwanga peoples), incl. Father Jean-Jacques Corbeil collection.

J.-J. and W.F. Corbeil: African Music: Bemba Instruments (n.d.)

zimbabwe

harare.

Ethnography Department, Queen Victoria Museum: c50 Ghona and Mdebele traditional.

C. Jones: Making Music: Musical Instruments of Zimbabwe Past and Present (1992)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

general

BoalchM

ClinkscaleMP

EMC2 (H. Kallmann and others)

MGG2 (B. Lambert, S.K. Klaus and M.H. Schmid)

Waterhouse-LangwillI

G.L. Kinsky: ‘Musikinstrumentensammlungen in Vergangenheit und Gegenwart’, JbMP 1920, 47–60

C. Sachs: ‘La signification, la tèche et la technique muséographique des collections d’instruments de musique’, Mouseion, xxvii–xxviii (1934), 153–84

T. Norlind, ed.: Systematik der Saiteninstrumente, i: Geschichte der Zither (Stockholm, 1936); ii: Geschichte des Klaviers (Stockholm, 1939)

G. Thibault: ‘Les collections privées de livres et d’instruments de musique d’autrefois et d’aujourd’hui’, HMYB, ix (1961), 131–47

Die Bedeutung, die optische und akustische Darbietung und die Aufgaben einer Musikinstrumentensammlung: Nuremburg 1969

W.H. Fitzgerald: Directory of Asian-Pacific Museums (Honolulu, 1969)

B. Geiser: ‘Musical Instruments in Public and Private Collections in Switzerland’, CIMCIM Newsletter, no.2 (1974)

W. Lichtenwanget and others, ed.: A Survey of Musical Instrument Collections in the United States and Canada (Ann Arbor, 1974)

E.M. Ripin: The Instrument Catalogs of Leopoldo Franciolini (Hackensack, NJ, 1974)

J. Jenkins: International Directory of Musical Instrument Collections (Buren, 1977)

I. Mačák, P. Kurfürst and F. Hellwig, eds.: Contributions to the Study of Traditional Musical Instruments in Museums (Bratislava, 1987)

J. Coover: Musical Instrument Collections: Catalogues and Cognate Literature (Detroit, 1981)

P.T. Young: Twenty-Five Hundred Historical Woodwind Instruments: an Inventory of the Major Collections (New York, 1982)

F. Gétreau: ‘Les instruments de musique dans les collections publiques français non spécialisées’, La vie musicale en Picardie au temps des Puys, Musée de Picardie, Amiens, 29 Apr – 13 July 1983 (Amiens, 1983), 71–4 [exhibition catalogue]

T.J. Wenberg: The Violin Makers of the United States (Mt Hood, OR, 1986)

F. de la Grandville: Recensement des instruments de musique anciens (Paris, 1988–90)

M. Haine: Les instruments de musique dans les collections belges/Musical Instruments in Belgian Collections (Liége, 1989)

W. Powers: ‘Checklist of Historic Recorders in American Private and Public Collections’, American Recorder, xxx/2 (1989)

C. Bevan, ed.: Musical Instrument Collections in the British Isles (Winchester, 1990)

S. Levin: ‘Collecting of Musical Instruments in Russia and the Soviet Union’, JAMIS, xvi (1990), 118–31

L’ethnomusicologie en Europe: répertoire des institutions et ressources (Issy les Moulineaux, 1992) [pubn of the Société Française d’Ethnomusicologie]

R. van Acht: Checklist of Technical Drawings of Musical Instruments in Public Collections of the World (Celle, 1992)

P.T. Young: 4900 Historical Woodwind Instruments: an Inventory of 200 Makers in International Collections (London, 1993)

F. Gétreau: Aux origines du Musée de la musique: les collections instrumentales du Conservatoire de Paris, 1793–1993 (Paris, 1996)

B. Lambert: International Directory of Musical Instrument Collections [IDMC] (1997) <www.icom.org/cimcim/id>

J. Lambrechts-Douillez: History of CIMCIM (1997) <www.icom.org/cimcim/ijt.html>

A. Rice: Directory of Musical Instruments in Canada and the United States (1997) <www.icom.org/cimcim/id>

R. Meucci, ed.: ‘Musei e collecioni di strumenti musicali’, Annuario musicale Italiano, iv/1 (1989), 387–8; iv/2 (1989), 347–55

inventories

A. Kircher: Musurgia universalis (Rome, 1650/R)

M. Todini: Dichiaratione della galleria armonica (Rome, 1676/R)

M. Fürstenau: Beiträge zur Geschichte der königlich sächsischen musikalischen Kapelle (Dresden, 1849)

M. Fürstenau: Ein Instrumentinventarium vom Jahre 1593 (Dresden, 1872)

L. Puliti: Cenni storici della vita del serenissimo Ferdinando dei Medici Granprincipe di Toscana, e della origine del pianoforte (Florence, 1874) [orig. pubd in Atti dell’Accademia de R. Insituto musicale di Firenze, xii, 1874]

L.F. Valdrighi: Musurgiana (Modena, 1879–96); 1st ser. repr. (Bologna, 1970)

A. Bruni: Un inventaire sous la Terreur: état des instruments de musique relevé chez les émigrés et condamnés ed. J. Gallay (Paris, 1890/R)

C. Pierre: La facture instrumentale à l’Exposition universelle de 1889 (Paris, 1890)

J. Sittard: Zur Geschichte der Musik und des Theaters am württemburgischen Hofe (Stuttgart, 1890–91/R)

E. de Bricqueville: ‘Les collections d’instruments de musique aux XVIe, XVIIe et XVIIIe siècles’, Un coin de la curiosité: les anciens instruments de musique (Paris, 1894), 15

F. Pedrell: Emporio cientifico e histórico de organografia musical espamusique aux X (Barcelona, 1901)

E. Zulauf: Beiträge zur Geschichte der Landgräfliche-hessische Hofkapelle zu Cassel bis auf die Zeit Moritz des Gelehrten (Kassel, 1902)

F. Waldner: ‘Zwei Inventarien aus dem XVI. und XVII. Jahrhundert über hinterlassene Musikinstrumente und Musikalien am Innsbrucker Hofe’, SMw, iv (1916), 128–47

A. Aber: Die Pflege der Musik unter den Wettinern und wettinischen Ernestinern (Bückeburg and Leipzig, 1921)

F.A. Drechsel: ‘Alte Dresdener Instrumenten Inventare’, ZMw, x (1927–8), 495–9

F.W. Galpin: The Collection of Musical Instruments Formed and Owned by the Late C. van Raalte, Fox & Sons, 21 June 1927 (Bournemouth, 1927) [sale catalogue]

H. Anglès: La música en la corte de Carlos V, MME, ii (1944, 1965R)

P. Loubet de Sceaury: Musiciens et facteurs d’instruments sous l’ancien régime (Paris, 1949)

A. Baines: ‘Two Cassel Inventories’, GSJ, iv (1951), 30–38

S. Marcuse: ‘The Instruments of the King’s Library at Versailles’, GSJ, xiv (1961), 34–6

S. Hellier: ‘A Catalogue of Musical Instruments’, GSJ, xviii (1965), 5–6

M. McLeish: ‘An Inventory of Musical Instruments at the Royal Palace, Madrid, in 1602’, GSJ, xxi (1968), 108–28

F. Crane: Extant Medieval Musical Instruments: a Provisional Catalogue by Types (Iowa City, 1972)

M. Castellani: ‘A 1593 Veronese Inventory’, GSJ, xxvi (1973), 15–24

B. Dickey, E.H. Tarr and P. Leonards: ‘The Discussion of Wind Instruments in Bartolomeo Bismantova’s Compendio musicale (1677): Translation and Commentary’, Basler Jb für historische Musikpraxis, ii (1978), 143–87

D. Krickeberg: ‘Die alte Musikinstrumentensammlung der Naumberger St. Wenzelskirche im Spiegel ihrer Verzeichnisse’, JbSIM (1978), 7–30

J. Watson: ‘A Catalog of Antique Keyboard Instruments in the Southeast’, Early Keyboard Journal, ii (1983–4), 64–82; iii (1984–5), 60–77; v (1986–7), 53–69; ix (1991), 71–103; xv (1997)

E. Tremmel: ‘Musikinstrumente im Hause Fugger’, Die Fugger und die Musik: Lautenschlagen Lernen und Leben, ed. R. Eikelmann (Augsburg, 1993), 61–70

periodicals

IAMIC Newsletter [International Association of Musical Instruments Collections], nos.1–2 (1973–4)

CIMCIM Newsletter nos.3–14 (1975–89)

CIMCIM Bulletin no.1– (1989–)

catalogues of major loan exhibitions

C. Engel, ed.: Catalogue of the Special Exhibition of Ancient Musical Instruments, South Kensington Museum (London, 1872)

A.J. Hipkins: International Inventions Exhibition, London, 1885: Guide to the Loan Collection and List of Musical Instruments, Royal Albert Hall (London, 1885)

C.R. Day: A Descriptive Catalogue of the Musical Instruments Recently Exhibited at the Royal Military Exhibition, London, 1890 (London, 1890)

Musée rétrospectif de la classe 17: instruments de musique, matérial, procédés et produits à l’Exposition universelle internationale de 1900 (Paris, 1900)

Under the Auspices of Chickering & Sons: Catalogue of the Exhibition, Horticultural Hall (Boston, 1902)

An Illustrated Catalogue of the Music Loan Exhibition, Fishmongers’ Hall, London, June – July 1904 (London, 1909)

K. Meyer: Katalog der Internationalen Ausstellung Musik im Leben der Völker, Frankfurt, 11 June – 28 Aug 1927 (Frankfurt, 1927)

Ausstellung alte Musik: Katalog, Bayerischen Nationalmuseum, Munich, Nov – Dec 1951 (Munich, 1951)

The Galpin Society: British Musical Instruments, Arts Council of Great Britain, London, 7 Aug – 30 Aug 1951 (London, 1951)

V festival Gulbenkian de musica: exposiçaô internacional de instrumentos antigos, Palácio Foz (Lisbon, 1961)

Mostra di antichi strumenti musicali, Teatro Comunale, 1963–4 (Modena, 1963)

Catalogue of the Musical Instrument Exhibition, Expo Sussex (Haywards Heath, Sussex, 1968)

The Galpin Society, 21st Anniversary Exhibition: an Exhibition of European Musical Instruments, Reid School of Music, U. of Edinburgh, 18 Aug – 7 Sept 1968 (Edinburgh, 1968)

K.S. Kothari: Indian Folk Musical Instruments, Sangeet Natak Akademi, 15 Nov – 22 Nov 1968 (New Dehi, 1968)

Exposition des instruments de musique des XVIème et XVIIème siècles, Hôtel de Sully, Paris, June 1969 (Brussels, 1969)

M. van Vaerenbergh-Awouters and others: Catalogus van de tentoonstelling gewijd aan muziekinstrumenten uit de XVIe en XVIIe eeuw, behorend tot het Instrumentenmuseum van Brussel/Catalogue de l’exposition ‘Instruments de musique des XVIe et XVIIe siècles’, appartenant au Musée instrumental de Bruxelles, Kasteel Laarne, Sept – Nov 1972 (Brussels, 1972)

G. Thibault, J. Jenkins and J. Bran-Ricci: Eighteenth Century Musical Instruments: France and Britain/Les instruments de musique au XVIIIe siècle: France et Grand-Bretagne, Victoria and Albert Museum (London, 1973)

J. Français: Collector’s Choice: Musical Instruments of Five Centuries from American Private Collections, Amsterdam Gallery, Lincoln Center (New York, 1975)

J. Jenkins and P. Rovsing Olsen: Music and the World of Islam, Horniman Museum, 6 Apr – 6 Oct 1976 (London, 1976)

P. Dumoulin: L’Europe du clavecin: en hommage à T.R.C. Goff, Palais Lascais, June – July 1977 (Nice, 1977)

C. Marcel-Dubois and others: L’instrument de musique populaire: usages et symboles, Musée Nationale des Arts et Traditions Populaires, 28 Nov 1980 – 19 Apr 1981 (Paris, 1980)

S. Pollens: Forgotten Instruments, Katonah Gallery, 15 Nov 1980 – 18 Jan 1981 (Katonah, NY, 1980)

P.T. Young: The Look of Music: Rare Musical Instruments, 1500–1900, Vancouver Museum (Vancouver, 1980)

Orlando di Lasso: Musik der Renaissance, Münchner Fürstenhof, 27 May – 31 July 1982 (Wiesbaden, 1982)

La vie musicale en Picardie au temps des Puys, Musée de Picardie, Amiens, 29 Apr – 13 July 1983 (Amiens, 1983)

Catching the Tune: Music and William Sidney Mount, State U. of New York at Stony Brook (Stony Brook, NY, 1984)

The Art of Music: American Paintings and Musical Instruments, 1770–1910, Fred L. Emerson Gallery, Hamilton College (Clinton, NY, 1984)

J.S. Britt: Nothing More Agreeable: Music in George Washington’s Family (Mount Vernon, VA, 1984)

R.L. Webb: Ring the Banjar: the Banjo in America from Folklore to Factory, MIT Museum Compton Gallery, 12 Apr – 29 Sept 1984 (Cambridge, MA, 1984)

300 Jahre Johann Sebatsian Bach: sein Werk in Handschriften und Dokumenten, Musikinstrumente seiner Zeit, seine Zeitgenossen, Staatsgalerie Stuttgart, 14 Sept – 27 Oct (Tutzing, 1985)

Domenico Scarlatti: i grandi centenari dell’anno europeo dell musica/Les grands jubilés de l’année européenne de la musique, Centro culturale beato Pietro Berno, Ascona, 24 Aug – 30 Oct 1985 (Ascona, 1985) [ Eng. and Ger. version also pubd 1985]

John Joseph Merlin: the Ingenious Mechanick, Iveagh Bequest (London, 1985)

J. Simon, ed.: Handel: a Celebration of his Life and Times, 1685–1759, National Portrait Gallery (London, 1985)

Made for Music: an Exhibition to Mark the 40th Anniversary of the Galpin Society, Sotheby’s, 11 Aug – 12 Aug 1986 (London, 1986)

P.T. Young: University of Victoria Loan Exhibition of Historic Double Reed Instruments, U. of Victoria (Victoria, 1988)

M.-T. Brincard, ed.: Sounding Forms: African Musical Instruments, National Museum of African Art, Washington DC, 26 Apr – 18 June 1989 (New York, 1989) [touring exhibition]

Die Klangwelt Mozarts, Kunsthistorisches Museum, 28 Apr – 27 Oct 1991 (Vienna, 1991)

C. Bégin and C. Nebel: Opus: the Making of Musical Instruments in Canada, Canadian Museum of Civilization (Hull, PQ, 1993)

Il museo della musica: mostra di strumenti antichi, Libreria sansoviniana, Venice, 12 Apr – 15 June 1997 (Venice, 1997)

Instruments, conservation, restoration, copying of.

A complex set of issues surrounds the competing demands of the preservation and use of cultural objects. Conservation and restoration are the two regimens followed in the care of such objects: conservation seeks the preservation of the status quo, and restoration seeks a return to working condition. The physical operation of any historic resource incurs maintenance, wear of moving parts, and the eventual replacement of components. Bringing a historic musical instrument into playing condition, and continuing its use, therefore becomes a source of contention when the processes and materials employed might mask or obliterate information on the original state of the instrument or its subsequent use. It is a tenet of museum practice that objects be preserved in the state in which they were acquired, and that intervention changing their condition be kept to a minimum. However, as musical instruments are among the most highly dynamic, interactive and evocative of artefacts, conserving them in a non-playing condition excludes the possibility of exploring their original intended function as producers of sound. Although the philosophies of conservation and restoration appear, therefore, to be polarized, it is nevertheless a mistake to assume that they share no common values. The ultimate intention of both is to ensure the continued existence of cultural resources; it is only in the methods adopted that differences of approach arise.

Conservation of musical instruments encompasses all attempts to arrest decay, stabilize structures, surfaces and components, and maintain intact as much of the original material of the instrument as possible. Its objective is to preserve instruments unaltered for both present and future generations. Conservation practices employ as little intervention as possible, requiring that, wherever feasible, materials applied to an instrument can be removed later without harm. Damaged parts are removed and replaced only where sufficient structural justification exists, or where the parts are clearly spurious and detract from or confuse the instrument’s information yield. All removed parts are accurately and completely labelled and kept either with the instrument or with its accompanying documentation. Much attention is paid to the condition of surfaces since they may elucidate previous phases of use: marks of wear are evocative of playing styles; indentations around hitchpins provide clues on earlier stringing; tool marks allow interpretation of manufacturing techniques; previous repairs and alterations give insight into weaknesses and design changes.

A large part of the conservation effort is focussed on the object’s surroundings because the stability and longevity of materials is related directly to the natural forces that impinge upon them. Environmental conditions conducive to the preservation of musical instruments include stable levels of relative humidity and temperature, low light levels, absence of pollutants and biological agents, and control of the many causes of physical change. Understanding the impact of the environment, and its monitoring and control, are key functions in conservation.

The practice of conservation is highly documentary. The condition of instruments, ongoing changes to them and features of their construction and past use are all recorded. Any proposal for treatment must be set out systematically in writing, with accompanying photographs or drawings, and approved by a second party to provide a system of checks and balances. Wide consultation during the formulation of treatment proposals is advocated. Treatment is recorded in such a way that both present and future scholars will have a clear understanding of what was done, how and why. Complete documentation minimizes repeated examination, which might cause damage; thus many museums have commissioned technical drawings of their more popular holdings. Advances in technology have provided a variety of new techniques. Photography and radiography are well established. The newer resources of electronic documentation allow precise measurement of such features as the width of bores and the thickness of components, the recording of acoustic spectra, and the analysis of materials and their condition. Advances in database management allow swift access to records and the compilation of comparative data.

Like the museum profession from which it emerged, conservation is supported by codes of ethics. However, the comparatively small number of practitioners worldwide precludes the systems of peer review and accountability encountered in the larger and more organized professions. The codes of ethics for conservation therefore provide guidance for practice, rather than enforceable rules of conduct. There is no code of ethics specific to the conservation treatment of musical instruments because the conservation profession regards them as no different in essence from the many other functional objects encountered in museums, and for which similar strictures concerning intervention apply.

The chief criticism of the conservation regimen, when applied throughout a collection, is that it silences instruments whose chief function is the production of musical sounds. This is offset by the emphasis on documentation, examination, analysis and preservation, which ensures that information embodied within the instruments remains intact and is accessible to scholars.

The aim of restoration is the return of instruments to playable condition so that their music-making function can be fully expressed and exploited. Restoration demands research into historical workshop techniques, an understanding of the materials of construction, and a knowledge of contemporary musical practices. It is essential that the restorer be trained in a variety of manual and mechanical production techniques, experienced in dealing with a wide range of raw materials, and fully conversant with the manufacture of the instruments under treatment. The documentation of treatment has become an important part of restoration, not necessarily as an emulation of museum practice, but rather with the more direct aim of recording and disseminating the increasingly intricate and sophisticated information derived from it.

It has been argued that much of what has been learnt about the historical techniques of musical instrument making has been derived from examinations conducted during the processes of restoration. This is especially true of keyboard instruments, which are very complex. Through disassembling an instrument, repairing and refurbishing it, and then bringing it back into peak working condition, insights and technical information are gained. But restoration practices are necessarily invasive, original joints are taken apart, weakened parts are strengthened, missing parts are reconstructed, and parts that no longer function are replaced. Thus, the yield of information derived from a restoration treatment must always be balanced by the net loss of integrity to the object itself.

Restorative treatment should be carried out only if its goals are very clearly established, and if a complete understanding of the original state of the instrument exists. An argument against restoration is that, as the acquisition of information is a cumulative process, a definitive understanding of any previous historical state can never be achieved. Thus, a treatment will always be based upon the best information available at the time, and as treatment is without exception irreversible, a permanent change of state will be imposed on the instrument. It is, indeed, possible to discern stages of fashion in the restoration of musical instruments, and a practitioner well versed in workshop techniques and practices can identify easily the period in which a particular piece of restoration work was done. A second argument against restoration lies in the lack of reliability of the results. As artefacts age their materials change inexorably by the processes of natural decay, while over time they are also transformed by human use. Because it is impossible to quantify these factors, the difference in performance between the instrument in its newly made state, and in the state following its deterioration and subsequent restoration, must remain obscure. And the more mechanically complex the instrument, the less reliable will be the information gained after its restoration. Thus the chief argument in favour of restoration, that of returning the instrument’s original voice and action, loses much of its persuasiveness.

The restoration of unique and previously unrestored early instruments was, at the end of the 20th century, becoming a thing of the past. Scholars had recognized the extent and value of information contained in unrestored instruments, and the news that a well-known early example was to be worked upon was greeted with consternation and alarm, in contrast to the anticipation and excitement of a few decades earlier. This change of attitude was occasioned by the realization that the majority of accessible early instruments had been subjected to much more manipulation in the previous few decades than at any time in their previous history, and that they were, indeed, a diminishing and non-renewable resource. Also, it was then agreed that enough was known of early instrument-making techniques that little of sufficient value could be added during a restoration.

In some collections a compromise position was often achieved whereby previously restored instruments, whose fund of technical information could already be said to be devalued, continued to be played under strictly controlled conditions. In this way musicians and scholars unfamiliar with the sound and feel of early instruments could have the experience of playing them, although it is impossible to state categorically that any information on a particular instrument’s original sound and dynamics could be gained in this way. The impact of playing such an instrument is purely aesthetic and very personal.

It is generally recognized that the aim of attempting to capture elements of particular musical instrument’s original disposition is better served by making an accurate copy. There has been much discussion over what constitutes an ‘accurate’ copy of an early instrument, and it is now generally agreed that an ‘accurate’ copy is an aspiration, not a goal. Organic substances in particular behave in unpredictable ways and some materials available to makers of earlier periods are unobtainable today. Also, standards of measurement and limitations of accuracy ensure that the original and the copy will differ. But beyond these physical limitations is a conceptual problem: the modern maker is not striving to emulate what exists now, but what existed at the time of manufacture. Thus, there is inevitably a degree of theorization, experimentation and trial and error in the process. Making a good working copy is as much a developmental process as the restoration of an original, with the obvious advantages that the original retains its documentary value and the cost of failure is more supportable.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Code of Ethics and Standards of Practice (Washington DC, 1963, 3/1994) [pubn of the American Institute for Conservation of Historic and Artistic Works]

C. Karp: ‘Restoration, Conservation, Repair and Maintenance: some Considerations on the Care of Musical Instruments’, EMc, vii (1979), 79–84

J. Barnes: ‘Does Restoration Destroy Evidence?’, EMc, viii (1980), 213–18

C. Karp: ‘Storage Climates for Musical Instruments’, EMc, x (1982), 469–76

Recommendations for Regulating the Access to Musical Instruments in Public Collections (Paris, 1985) [pubn of the Comité International des Musées et Collections d’Instruments de Musique, CIMCIM]

G. O’Brien: ‘The Conservation of Historical Keyboard Instruments: to Play or to Preserve?’, Per una carta Europea del restauro: Venice 1985, 291–7

Code of Ethics and Guidance for Practice: for those Involved in the Conservation of Cultural Property in Canada (Ottawa, 1986, 2/1989) [pubn of the International Institute for Conservation: Canadian Group]

R.L. Barclay: ‘Ethics in the Conservation and Preservation of Brass Instruments’, HBSJ, i (1989), 75–81

H. Kühn: ‘The Restoration of Historic Technical Artefacts, Scientific Instruments and Tools’, International Journal of Museum Management and Curatorship, viii (1989), 389–405

S. Pollens: ‘Curt Sachs and Musical Instrument Restoration’, MT, cxxx (1989), 589–94

J.R. Watson: ‘Historical Musical Instruments: a Claim to Use, an Obligation to Preserve’, JAMIS, xvii (1991), 69–82

C. Karp, ed.: The Conservation and Technology of Musical Instruments: a Bibliographic Supplement to Art and Archaeology Technical Abstracts [International Institute for Conservation of Historic and Artistic Works and Getty Conservation Institute], xxviii/3 (London and Los Angeles, 1992)

J.S. Odell: ‘Musical Instruments’, Caring for your Collections (New York, 1992), 128–37

Recommendations for the Conservation of Musical Instruments: an Annotated Bibliography (Paris, 1993) [pubn of the Comité International des Musées et Collections d’Instruments de Musique, CIMCIM]

K. Arnold-Forster and H. La Rue: Museums of Music: a Review of Musical Collections in the United Kingdom (London, 1993)

S. Michalski: ‘Relative Humidity in Museums, Galleries, and Archives: Specification and Control’, Bugs, Mold & Rot II, ed. W.B. Rose and A. TenWolde (Washington DC,1993), 51–62

Copies of Historic Musical Instruments (Edinburgh, 1994) [pubn of the CIMCIM]

D.C. Carr: ‘With What Aim and Purpose, and to What End, Should Historical Organs be Restored?’, Organ Yearbook, xxiv (1994), 1–40

Standards in the Museum Care of Musical Instruments (London, 1995) [pubn of the Museums and Galleries Commission]

A. Lamb: ‘To Play or not to Play: the Ethics of Musical Instrument Conservation’, V&A Conservation Journal, no.15 (1995), 12–15

R.L. Barclay: ‘The Conservation of Musical Instruments’, Museum International, xlviii/1 (1996), 9–14

R.L. Barclay, ed.: The Care of Historic Musical Instruments (Ottawa and London, 1998)

ROBERT BARCLAY

Instruments and technology.

The transfer of technology from disparate branches of knowledge has had a far-reaching impact on the design and construction of musical instruments. In some cases instrument makers have merely borrowed and adapted an existing technology developed for other purposes; in others they have conceived musical applications for a seemingly unrelated but nevertheless analogous device or technology. This article examines the interaction of instrument making and technology in the context of the Western world.

During the Middle Ages various technological innovations – including the development of mining and the vertical trip hammer-operated mill, copper smelting and the more efficient production of calamine, a zinc sulphate used in alloying brass – made it possible to produce stronger and smoother sheet metal of consistent quality and thickness. Thus, skilled instrument makers were able to form thin tubes for trumpets and organ pipes; to fashion folded trumpets as well as slides for what later became trombones; and to flare bells out at the end with more reliability and uniformity. All these factors contributed to the acoustical properties of the instruments: not only could the players produce far more ‘musical’ notes, but slides extended by transposition the instruments' natural harmonic series.

Commencing in the late 14th century a number of keyboard instruments incorporated radically new actions employing pivoting keys which returned to their original positions after striking or plucking a string. The mechanical principles were derived in part from the descriptions of moving simulacra by Hero of Alexandria (1st century ce). Part of Greco-Roman and Alexandrian science preserved for many centuries in Byzantium, this knowledge had been acquired by the Arabs, who developed their own extraordinary art of astronomical instrument building (such as mechanical armillary spheres and geared astrolabes, as well as astronomical clocks including dials for planetary movements, moon phases, calendars and time of day), incorporating sophisticated linkages and gearing. A second major influence on the keyboard mechanism was the principles of the escapement and so-called jackwork found in a series of Chinese texts on automata and astronomical clocks such as the description of his water-driven clock-tower by Su Sung (1090). This oriental/Islamic heritage was transmitted to western Europe in the 13th century, and is seen for example in the astronomical codices at the Court of Alfonso el Sabio (c1272) and the planetarium clock of Giovanni de’ Dondi (1364). From about 1350 the flourishing craft guilds and court scientists in Europe produced a profusion of mechanical hardware, including extremely complex time-keeping devices. Many of these individuals, notably the astronomer Henri Arnaut de Zwolle, also invented prototypes of both the clavichord and harpsichord. The organ keyboard benefited from this technology as well; a possible further influence was the application of loom construction, with its foot-operated treadles, to the instrument's pedalboard.

The lathe, refined for greater precision in the construction of scientific instruments, particularly the cutting of screw threads, became important in the manufacture of woodwind instruments. The earliest lathes, powered by a hand-crank or a spring pole and treadle device, were developed into an extremely versatile tool during the late 16th and early 17th centuries, when the technology was exported from Flanders and southern Germany to other European countries. Further improvements included a tool holder, a weight-driven spindle which rotated continuously while holding the wood in place, and, later, water-powered drive mechanisms. The so-called ornamental turning lathe included cams and templates that permitted more intricate motions and increased accuracy. It was soon applied to musical instrument building, resulting in a more uniform and reliable manufacture; bores, for example, could be machined with far greater precision. Advances in the making and working of iron (mining, smelting, alloying and casting) between about 1600 and 1750 were soon reflected in specific aspects of musical instrument construction such as more uniform materials, precise shaping and the fabrication of keys.

During the 19th century mechanical technology improved greatly, due in part to the spread of education and industry, and the availability of strong, ferrous metals. Cast iron was extensively used for buildings, their façades and architectural ornaments, as well as for railroad bridges. The development of modern machine-shop manufacturing and the machine tool industry gave rise to musical instrument firms such as Distin in England, Brod and Sax in France, and Conn in the USA. Cheap high-tensile steel became available, thanks in part to technologies invented in the late 1850s by Henry Bessemer (blowing air through molten cast iron) and William Siemens (the open-hearth furnace process). Such knowledge was disseminated through books, journals, newspapers, mechanics institutes and night schools. By 1800 the Ecole Polytechnique in Paris had published charts and plates illustrating a wide variety of machine elements including gears, rods, screws, nuts, cranks and levers. In 1816 C.J.B. Karsten brought out the first edition of his Handbuch der Eisenhüttenkunde, which contained detailed drawings of all kinds of blower systems as well as the various types of valves used in both furnaces and ironworks. The quality and variety of available raw materials increased substantially, as did the reliability of mass production, especially following the advent of steam power. The direct alloying of copper and zinc (as opposed to cementation with copper and calamine), the production of tough, durable spring steel, the use of nickel for sliding components, electroplating and the development of gas flame-controlled soldering techniques are but a few examples of improvements in manufacture.

The period from about 1810 to 1880 was characterized by vitality and innovation in the development and manufacture of musical instruments. As the art of moulding and casting iron improved, this material was appropriated by piano builders to produce instruments with greater volume of sound, which necessitated heavier stringing and much higher string tensions. Traditional wooden frames, even when reinforced with metal braces, proved inadequate and by 1843 the Boston firm of Chickering began producing grand pianos with one-piece iron frames. Later refinements in both the chemical composition of steel and its casting led to more durable frames which were less likely to crack under pressure. High-tensile steel wire was used not only in suspension bridges but for piano strings as well. Theobald Boehm, who worked out the proportions and devised the basic mechanism of the modern flute, was a practising musician, a goldsmith and for 12 years superintendent of the Bavarian steel industry. Well grounded in acoustics and skilled in delicate metalwork, he set about determining by trial and error the ideal dimensions and uniform placement of tone holes according to rational criteria. In 1828 he established a successful manufactory in Munich, where about 1847 he produced an all-metal flute with elaborate keywork, improved acoustics, uniform tone production and greater volume of sound.

The most important industrial tool in the late 18th and early 19th centuries was the steam engine, which required a system of control valves for the passage of steam, water or air. Karsten's Handbuch helped transfer this technology to the fabrication of valve brass instruments, obviating the need for either hand-stopping to correct ‘non-musical’ harmonic notes or a full set of crooks for all keys. This was accomplished by two Germans, Friedrich Blühmel and H.D. Stölzel. Blühmel, a miner who played waldhorn and trumpet in a company band, had observed the techniques for distributing and regulating the supply of air to blast furnaces and the venting of air in ironwork forges. The sliding valves which turned the air to furnaces on and off led Blühmel to conceive of using a piston valve to divert the flow of air in the trumpet's tube to a set of longer or shorter loops, thus shifting the harmonic series from the instrument's natural key to another and producing an entire scale. After much experimentation he demonstrated his valve trumpet in 1816. Two years later he began his association with Stölzel, a Berlin horn player, instrument maker and repairer who by 1815 had crafted a trumpet equipped with two valves for lowering its basic pitch by either a semi- or a whole tone, producing all the notes of the chromatic scale with even tone-colour. Together Blühmel and Stölzel applied for a patent on a spring-controlled slide-valve mechanism for both trumpets and horns. By 1828 Blühmel, working independently, designed and produced a cylindrical rotary valve inspired by the spring-driven rotary valves used to channel air to forges.

Similarly radical alterations were made in the use and construction of the timpani in the early 19th century. A growing number of composers found the tradition of tuning the drums in unaltered perfect 4ths or 5ths unduly restrictive. Timpani parts in the newer orchestral repertory often demanded rapid retunings both during and between movements. Such quick changes of pitch were impossible on instruments equipped only with threaded tuning bolts around the rim. This problem was easily solved by locksmiths and metalworkers applying the mechanical technology brought about by the Industrial Revolution: the tension of the skin head could rapidly be adjusted by turning a single master screw, by rotating the kettle itself or by manipulating a series of gear wheels with the foot. In 1812 Gerhard Cramer, court timpanist in Munich, working with the royal armourer and locksmith, built the first cast iron lever- and gear-operated ‘machine’ drum. The musician-inventor Johann Stumpff (c1815) in Amsterdam based his timpani on the concept of an armature and central screw found in the swivel desk chair. Johann Einbigler of Frankfurt (1836) employed a threaded vertical tuning crank pressing against a pivoted rocker-arm. Both August Knocke, a manufacturer of firearms in Munich (c1840), and Max Puschmann in Chemnitz (1880) used elaborate systems of rods, gears and cog-wheels found in contemporary industrial machinery. However, the sheer brute force required by Knocke's drum, and the metal strain from the torque caused by rotation in Puschmann's model, made their mechanisms impractical. The most successful, and now ubiquitous, timpani was the ‘Dresden’ model invented by Carl Pittrich in 1881. It used steel rather than iron and employed a foot pedal, ratchet and mechanical couplings which converted the semicircular motion of the pedal into a vertical reciprocating motion acting on the head by means of the tension mechanism. This concept had been widely used in steam engines and punch presses, as well as in machines controlled by foot-treadle linkages, such as the common mangle found in commercial laundries.

The harnessing of electricity stimulated interest in its application to music. Examples of simple technological transfer range from motor-operated organ bellows and key actions to the amplifiers used in the vibraphone and electric guitar. The invention of the three-element amplifying valve or vacuum tube by Lee DeForest in 1912 prompted a large-scale research effort at the Bell Telephone Company (later Bell Telephone Laboratories) focussing initially on the characteristics of speech and hearing, and later on music and sound in general. The need for more precise instruments led to the construction of devices to convert sound waves into electricity and reconstitute them into sound with minimal distortion. The most noteworthy of these early efforts from the musical point of view was the introduction of electrical recording and reproducing in 1925.

A series of electronic musical instruments, such as the theremin and ondes martenot, both developed in the 1920s, employed oscillators controlled by the performer combined with amplification and loudspeaker output. In some of these instruments tones were produced by electrical frequency generators, in others by rotary or vibrating mechanical generators. The electronic organ of Laurens Hammond had 91 rotary electromagnetic generators driven by a motor with associated gears and tone-wheels. The wave forms thus produced could be synthesized by permutations and combinations into complex musical tones. In 1955 Harry Olson of RCA invented an electronic music synthesizer. The instructions were stored by means of a typewriter-like keyboard which punched the commands into a 40-channel, binary-coded paper tape describing the desired musical sounds. The roll of tape in turn activated a series of tone generators which produced the actual synthesized output.

The application of computer technology to music was anticipated in the 1840s when the mathematician Ada Lovelace speculated on the possibilities of using punched cards to input music and the rules of composition into a mechanical calculator, enabling it to compose ‘elaborate and scientific pieces of music’. This technological ‘transmission belt’ ultimately led to modern commercial scientific laboratories and university-based electronic music studios. In one type of pioneering experiment the computer selected the notes according to either mathematical rule or numerical sequence (probability). These in turn were converted, measure by measure and part by part, into a musical score and performed by ‘live’ musicians. In a second variety the basic rules of composition were stored in the computer's memory. Following or imitating these steps, the computer selected or rejected each successive note and then stored the sequence of numbers representing each wave-form in terms of pitch on thousands of punched cards. Converted electronically into oscillations, these ‘notes’ drove a loudspeaker. Computer music was never widely accepted by the listening public, and is now little more than a historical relic. On the other hand, many composers use digital computer technology to produce an almost infinite variety of synthesized sounds, especially for films and television.

See also Computers and music; Electronic instruments; Keywork; Mechanical instrument; Organ; and Organology. Further discussion of technologies is included in articles on individual instruments.

Instruments and technology

EDMUND A. BOWLES

BIBLIOGRAPHY

R. Raven-Hart: ‘The Martenot Instrument’, Wireless World (16 July 1930)

S.K. Lewer: Electronic Musical Instruments (London, 1948)

H. Olson and H. Beler: ‘Electronic Music Synthesizer’, JASA, xxvi (1955), 595–612

R.C. Pinkerton: ‘Information Theory and Melody’, Scientific American, cxciv/2 (1956), 77–8, 80, 82, 84, 86

F.P. Brooks and others: ‘An Experiment in Musical Composition’, Transactions of the Institute of Radio Engineers (New York, 1957), 175–6

L.A. Hiller: ‘Computer Music’, Scientific American, cci/6 (1959), 109–20

M.V. Mathews and N. Guttman: ‘Generation of Music by a Digital Computer’, Proceedings of the Third International Congress on Acoustics: Stuttgart 1959, ed. L. Cremer (Amsterdam, 1961), 253–4

F.K. Prieberg: Musica ex machina: über das Verhältnis von Musik und Technik (Berlin, 1960)

M.V. Mathews: ‘The Digital Computer as a Musical Instrument’, Science, cxlii (1963), 553–7

E.A. Bowles: ‘On the Origin of the Keyboard Mechanism in the Late Middle Ages’, Technology and Culture, vii (1966), 152–62

E.A. Bowles: ‘Musicke's Handmaiden or Technology in the Service of the Arts’, The Computer and Music, ed. H.B. Lincoln (Ithaca, NY, 1970), 3–22

A. Baines: Brass Instruments: their History and Development (London, 1976/R)

M. and K. Kaufman: ‘Le clavier à balancier du clavisimbalum (XVe siècle): un moment exceptionnel de l'évolution des instruments à clavier’, La facture de clavecin du XVe au XVIIIe siècle: Louvain-la-Neuve 1976, 9–57

H. Tobischek: Die Pauke: ihre spiel- und bautechnische Entwicklung in der Neuzeit (Tutzing, 1977)

H. Heyde: ‘Zur Frühgeschichte der Ventile und Ventilinstrumente in Deutschland (1814–1833)’, Brass Bulletin, no.24 (1978), 9–33; no.25 (1979), 41–50; no.26 (1979), 69–82; no.27 (1979), 51–9 [with Eng. and Fr. texts]

E.A. Bowles: ‘Nineteenth-Century Innovations in the Use and Construction of the Timpani’, JAMIS, v–vi (1979–80), 79–113

R. Dahlquist: ‘Some Notes on the Early Valve’, GSJ, xxxiii (1980), 111–24

E.M. Good: Giraffes, Black Dragons, and Other Pianos: a Technological History from Cristofori to the Modern Concert Grand (Stanford, CA, 1982)

H. Heyde: Das Ventilblasinstrument: seine Entwicklung in deutschsprachigen Raum von den Anfängen bis zur Gegenwart (Leipzig, 1987)

R. Barclay: The Art of the Trumpet-Maker (Oxford, 1992)

C. Ahrens: ‘Technological Innovations in Nineteenth-Century Instrument Making and their Consequence’, MQ, lxxx (1996), 332–40

J.Q. Ericson: ‘Heinrich Stoelzel and Early Valved Horn Technique’, HBSJ, ix (1997), 63–82

T. Herbert and J. Wallace, eds.: The Cambridge Companion to Brass Instruments (Cambridge, 1997)

Intabulation

(Ger. Intabulierung; It. intavolatura, intabolatura).

An arrangement for keyboard, lute or other plucked string instrument of a vocal composition; the term is especially applied to those prepared in the 14th, 15th and 16th centuries, and written in Tablature, the system of notation using letters, figures or other symbols instead of notes on a staff. The 16th- and 17th-century keyboard pieces published in Italy and designated ‘d’intavolatura’ (as in ‘Canzone d’intavolatura’) are exceptions to the general practice, since that repertory includes abstract instrumental canzonas, toccatas, variation sets etc., as well as arrangements of vocal compositions; thus ‘intavolatura’ seems in this case to refer not to the genre of the composition but to the fact that the music was printed in staff notation on two staves, as opposed to ‘partiture’ (the plural of ‘partitura’), in which each part is given a separate staff. In general, intabulations from the 14th century to the 16th incorporate all or almost all the voices of the vocal composition into the arrangement, although on occasion less important voices are omitted, several voices are combined into one, or chords and even whole passages are redistributed to make them fit better under the hands of a single player. Almost invariably, the arrangements are enriched by more or less extensive embellishment.

The practice of making intabulations arose in the late Middle Ages, doubtless as a result of the fact that keyboard players had to prepare special scores for themselves when they wished to take part in performances of vocal music, which was normally written into manuscripts not in score but as a series of separate parts (‘choirbook format’). The earliest intabulations appear in the Robertsbridge Codex (GB-Lbl Add.28850), dated about 1360 and written in a combination of staff notation and letters. The manuscript includes two intabulations of motets from the Roman de Fauvel, taken over fairly literally from the vocal parts but adapted to fit within the player’s hands and with ornamentation added to the upper voices. The Reina Manuscript (F-Pn n.a.fr.6771), one of the most important sources of 14th-century polyphonic secular music, contains a single keyboard piece, an arrangement in score of Questa fanciulla, a ballata by Francesco Landini, in which the upper part is highly decorated. But the largest repertory of 14th-century intabulations – and the largest repertory of keyboard music in general – is the Faenza Codex, possibly written as late as the early 15th century, but containing an exclusively Trecento repertory, including extravagantly embellished intabulations of French music by Machaut, Pierre des Molins and various anonymous composers, as well as arrangements of secular Italian music by Jacopo da Bologna, Bartolino da Padova, Landini, Antonio Zacar da Teramo and others, all notated in score.

From the 15th century an extensive repertory of intabulations for keyboard instruments survives in German sources, all written in a keyboard tablature that combines letters with staff notation. The largest manuscript by far, the Buxheimer Orgelbuch, prepared probably in the third quarter of the 15th century, contains some 256 compositions, many of them intabulations, and it includes one composition marked ‘in cytaris vel etiam in organis’ (‘either for harp or for organ’). But there are also almost a dozen smaller German sources of 15th-century keyboard music (ed. W. Apel, CEKM, i), and they all furnish additional examples of intabulating technique. Like the other compositions in the Buxheimer Orgelbuch, the intabulations of motets, lieder and, above all, French chansons (the leading secular genre in the 15th century) follow the precedents established in the previous century. For the most part, all voices of the vocal model are taken over into the solo arrangements and a more or less elaborate process of ornamentation is applied to the upper voices, often turning it from a lyrical melody into a perpetuum mobile in keyboard style. The lower voices are left much as they were in the vocal model, or varied or ornamented slightly, or reduced to a single part by omitting the contratenor altogether or combining it with the tenor. In some compositions the intabulators have recomposed relatively brief sections.

With the change in playing technique from plectrum to fingers in the late 15th century, lutenists and other players of plucked string instruments began to perform polyphonic music, including arrangements of masses, motets and secular music. The invention of music printing enabled publishers to issue great quantities of music for keyboard instruments, as well as for lutes, vihuelas, guitars, citterns and other plucked strings (see BrownI). Thus in the 16th century the number of intabulations increased sharply.

The technique of intabulation, as explained, for example, by Adrian Le Roy and Vincenzo Galilei, remained essentially the same throughout the century. Musicians were taught to take over into their arrangements as much of the vocal model as the techniques of their instruments would allow. Lutenists and keyboard players were expected to play most four-part music literally (not all of them did so), although they might need to omit some voices, or to thin the texture slightly in places, when they intabulated compositions with five, six or more voices. Guitarists and cittern players, on the other hand, could not be so literal; at times they give the merest impression of the original part-writing.

Virtually all 16th-century intabulators added ornamentation to the vocal models they arranged, partly out of necessity, since fast passage-work helped to sustain the fragile sounds of lute, vihuela and harpsichord. Even so, many virtuosos added more ornaments than modern musicians think tasteful, although some, such as the vihuelist Miguel de Fuenllana, scarcely ornamented their models at all. Many instrumentalists of the 16th century relied mostly on pre-formed stereotyped figuration patterns, runs, turns and trills. Sometimes Francesco Spinacino and Joan Ambrosio Dalza, who published anthologies of lute music in the first decade of the century, maintained quaver or semiquaver motion almost constantly from beginning to end of a piece, obscuring the contours of their models beneath an avalanche of endless and directionless scale fragments. Similarly, the German keyboard composers of the last 30 years of the 16th century, including Ammerbach, Schmid, Paix and Nörmiger – the so-called ‘colourists’ – overwhelmed their models with mechanical decoration. Hans Gerle, a German lutenist of the mid-16th century, on the other hand, sometimes left out one inner voice or more to make his showy diminutions easier to play, and he sprinkled diverse ornamental clichés throughout a piece apparently at random. Heavily ornamented intabulations from the mid-century often restrict the number of stereotyped figuration patterns applied to any one section of a composition. Repeated wherever possible, these ornamental clichés form a superstructure, so to speak, over the given vocal piece, a network of motifs independent of the original conception. Diego Ortiz used this technique in his arrangements printed in his treatise on the viol, and some lutenists, like Sebastian Ochsenkun, seem to have adopted the same procedure. Some of the greatest virtuosos of the century, like Valentin Bakfark and Francesco da Milano, went further than lesser musicians in ornamenting their models, sometimes transforming the originals into idiomatic and virtuoso instrumental pieces by means of a profusion of ever-varying runs, turns and trills. They seem to have used the original music as a vehicle for comment and elaboration, for a virtuoso display of variation technique.

Intabulations of 16th-century vocal music provide instruction, then, in the techniques of embellishment used by a variety of musicians in performance, and are helpful in indicating the difference between the way music looks on the page and how it must have sounded in the Renaissance. Tablatures, especially those for plucked string instruments, are also useful in elucidating how 16th-century musicians added accidentals to music, according to the rules of musica ficta, since tablature indicates precisely where performers were to put their fingers on the strings, and hence is more apt to include the particular chromatic inflections heard in performance than music written in staff notation.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

ApelG

BrownI

O. Körte: Laute und Lautenmusik bis zur Mitte des 16. Jahrhunderts (Leipzig, 1901/R)

O.A. Baumann: Das deutsche Lied und seine Bearbeitungen in den frühen Orgeltabulaturen (Kassel, 1934)

D. Plamenac: ‘Keyboard Music of the Fourteenth Century in Codex Faenza 117’, JAMS, iv (1951), 179–201

D. Plamenac: ‘New Light on Codex Faenza 117’, IMSCR V: Utrecht 1952, 310–26

N. Pirrotta: ‘Note su un codice di antiche musiche per tastiera’, RMI, lvi (1954), 333–9

B.A. Wallner, ed.: Das Buxheimer Orgelbuch, DM, 2nd ser., Handschriften-Faksimiles, i (1955); repr. in EDM, xxxvii–xxxix (1958–9) [facs.]

W. Apel, ed.: Keyboard Music of the Fourteenth & Fifteenth Centuries, CEKM, i (1963)

E. Southern: The Buxheim Organ Book (Brooklyn, NY, 1963)

H.R. Zöbeley: Die Musik des Buxheimer Orgelbuchs (Tutzing, 1964)

H.M. Brown: ‘Accidentals and Ornamentation in Sixteenth-Century Intabulations of Josquin’s Motets’, Josquin des Prez: New York 1971, 475–522

D. Plamenac, ed.: Keyboard Music of the Late Middle Ages in Codex Faenza 117, CMM, lvii (1972)

H.M. Brown: ‘Embellishment in Early Sixteenth-Century Italian Intabulations’, PRMA, c (1973–4), 49–83

C. Jacobs, ed.: Antonio Valente: Intavolatura de Cimbalo (Naples, 1576) (Oxford, 1973)

C. Jacobs, ed.: Miguel de Fuenllana: Orphénica Lyra (Seville, 1554) (Oxford, 1978)

C. Jacobs, ed.: Elias Nicolaus Ammerbach: Orgel oder Instrument Tabulaturbuch 1571/83 (Oxford, 1984)

HOWARD MAYER BROWN

Intavolatura

(It.).

Any collection of solo instrumental music, usually for lute or keyboard and printed during the 16th or 17th century, which is ‘in tablature’. The term was often used in its literal sense, as in Francesco Spinacino’s Intabulatura de lauto: libro primo (Venice, 1507) and Antonio Valente’s Intavolatura de cimbalo (Naples, 1576), which are in Italian lute tablature and Spanish–Italian keyboard tablature respectively. However, the word ‘intavolatura’ and its most common derivatives (tabulatura, intavolate, tabulati, intabulatura, intabolatura, intavolature, etc.) were frequently used on the title-pages of 16th- and 17th-century Italian and German sources to describe music printed not in one of the conventional tablatures but in keyboard score (on two staves) or, at a slightly later date, in keyboard partitura. This use of the term derives from the fact that the earliest of such sources often contained compositions that had orginally been written for voices but which had been ‘intabulated’ (i.e. put into notation for solo instrumental performance); it was thus intended to indicate that the music had been adapted to keyboard notation rather than to convey the precise nature of the new notation. Invariably these intabulations involved a degree of elaboration of the original material. The use of the term ‘intavolatura’ was later extended to include collections of works conceived originally for keyboard instruments. The earliest surviving intavolatura for keyboard is the Frottole intabulate da sonare organi: libro primo, issued in 1517 by the Rome printer Andrea Antico. The use of the term ‘tabulatura’ to describe the keyboard partitura is first seen in German publications of the 1620s, notably in Samuel Scheidt’s Tabulatura nova (Hamburg, 1624).

See also Partitura and Tablature.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

WolfH

W. Apel: The Notation of Polyphonic Music 900–1600 (Cambridge, MA, 1942, 5/1961; Ger. trans., rev., 1970)

JOHN MOREHEN

Intensity.

Intensity is the energy flow per unit area per second through a given surface, and is measured in watts per square metre. It is proportional to the square of the pressure amplitude in a sinusoidal sound wave. See also Sound, §4.

CLIVE GREATED

Interlochen.

Site of the National Music Camp run by the university of Michigan school of music.

Interlude

(Fr. intermède; Ger. Zwischenspiel; It. intermedio, intermezzo; Lat. interludium).

A general term for music played or sung between the main parts of either a musical work or, occasionally, a non-musical event.

(1) In church services organ interludes have at various times been customarily inserted – often improvised – between the verses of psalms and hymns (see Psalm interlude).

(2) In a theatrical performance an interlude consists of an instrumental item between acts (see Act music (i), Entr’acte, Zwischenspiel) or, on a more elaborate scale, an entertainment such as an Intermedio or intermezzo (see Intermezzo (ii)). Debussy’s Pelléas et Mélisande and Berg’s Wozzeck, for example, include important interludes that are dramatically related, indeed essential, to the whole design. Although interludes are not necessarily always so called, Stravinsky and Britten adopted the term for such episodes. The two interludes of Britten’s The Rape of Lucretia respectively tell of Tarquinius’s ride to Rome and comment on the rape itself (i.e. those episodes that cannot easily be represented on the stage). The six purely orchestral interludes (one a passacaglia) that punctuate the action of Peter Grimes either prepare for the music of the next scene or continue the development of material from the previous one. Interludes may enjoy an independent existence in the concert hall, as do five of those in Peter Grimes.

(3) In instrumental music an interlude is usually a short connecting episode between movements rather than a movement in itself; there are examples in Stravinsky’s Symphony in Three Movements and Movements for Piano and Orchestra, though when the latter was published Stravinsky discarded the term ‘interlude’. Thomas Mace (Musick’s Monument, 1676) provides examples of modulating interludes for lute, observing that a skilful performer playing two successive suites in different keys should not ‘Abruptly, and Suddenly Begin, such New Lessons, without some Neat, and Handsom InterludingVoluntary-like-Playing; which may, by Degrees, (as it were) Steal into That New and Intended Key’. Roger North later advocated the same practice. It was revived by Hindemith in Ludus tonalis (1942), where each Interludium provides a smooth transition between the tonal centres of successive fugues. Elgar used the term ‘interlude’ of the two episodes for reduced orchestra in Falstaff in which Falstaff’s mind turns back to the days of his youth.

MICHAEL TILMOUTH/R

Intermède [intermédie, intramède, entremets]

(Fr.).

Like the Italian Intermedio, a spectacle given between the acts of a stage work. It entertained the audience, allowing the actors to ‘catch their breath, or change their costumes, or to allow time for changing the stage sets’ (Dictionnaire de Trévoux, iii, 1743, p.1718).

The history of the intermède in France is complex, and the degree of latitude in what constituted an intermède was indeed wide. The earliest examples date from the 16th century; they used Italian comedians and stagecraft and were built on the tradition of Italian mascheratas and French entremets (elaborate choreographic and musical spectacles given at court banquets). Cardinal Bibbiena’s comedy La calandria (1513) was performed for Henri II at Lyons (27 September 1548) with four intermèdes representing the four ages of mankind (iron, bronze, silver and gold). At Blois in February and April 1556 four intermèdes were inserted between the acts of G.G. Trissino’s Sofonisba in a French translation by Mellin de Saint-Gelais. The ‘entremets’ of the 1559 edition include choruses and a monologue, La furie mégère, by J.-A. de Baïf, who also contributed five ‘Chants recitez entre les actes de la Comédie’ for his own comedy Le brave, ou Le taillebras, performed at the Hôtel de Guise (28 January 1567).

The intermèdes of the Balet comique de la Royne (performed at the Petit Bourbon, Paris, 15 October 1581) turned the tradition of the masquerade towards a more dramatic type of intermède. The mythological subjects and sumptuous staging of those for L’Arimène, ou Le berger désespéré, a pastorale by Ollenix de Mont-Sacré (given at the château of Nantes, 25 February 1596) are also more dramatically conceived.

In the 17th century the Jesuits were among the first to use ballets as intermèdes in their theatre productions. As early as 1614 a French ballet, Ballet des onze anges, was inserted at the end of the second act of Le jeu de la conversion de St Guillaume d’Aquitaine in a performance in Brussels (9 February). From 1623 to 1631 five Latin tragedies by the Englishman Joseph Simons were performed with danced intermèdes at the Jesuit college of Saint-Omer.

In the latter part of the century, notably at the Collège Louis-le-Grand, Paris, more elaborate intermèdes were placed between the five acts of Latin tragedies. Some of these were closely aligned with the action of the tragedies that they supplemented; some were extended compositions in their own right (e.g. Sylvandre, a ‘pastorale en musique … pour servir d’intermèdes’ for the tragedy Coriolanus, March 1683). From 1684 the concept of the intermède could embrace an entire opera, comparable in every way to those of Lully and Quinault which were then drawing crowds to the Académie Royale de Musique. Démétrius by Claude Oudot (performed 5 March 1685, music lost), Celse martyr by M.-A. Charpentier (performed 10 February 1687, music lost) and David et Jonathas by Charpentier (performed 28 February 1688) are examples of ‘tragédies en musique pour servir d’intermèdes à la pièce latine’. Among other composers who wrote intermèdes for Latin tragedies were Beauchamps, Lalande, Pascal Collasse, Campra, J.F. Lallouette, Clérambault, Henry Desmarets and J.N.P. Royer.

In Paris, French intermèdes performed between the acts of Mazarin’s ill-fated Italian opera importations proved more popular than the operas themselves. The title-page of Carlo Caproli’s Le nozze di Peleo e di Theti (14 April 1654) states that the opera was ‘intermingled with a Ballet on the same subject’. In Cavalli’s Xerse, however, the six entrées of ballet composed by Lully for the 1660 performances in Paris, which ‘serve as intermèdes to the Comedy’, have nothing whatsoever to do with the subject of the opera.

For his tragedies Esther (1689) and Athalie (1691), which were written for the young ladies of the Maison Royale St-Louis de Saint-Cyr, Racine tailored all the intermèdes (music by J.-B. Moreau) to the specific goal explained in his preface to Athalie: ‘In imitating the Ancients, I aimed for continuity of action that never permitted an empty stage; the intermèdes (“intervalles”) between the acts being marked only by the hymns and moral lessons of the chorus that comments on the action just past.’ The original versions of Racine’s masterpieces could not be staged publicly until 1791 when the law on ‘freedom of the theatres’ abolished the Académie Royale de Musique’s monopoly on works with choruses.

The full range of possibilities inherent in French intermèdes may be observed in those by Lully (and later by Charpentier) for 14 of Molière’s comedies, where they may precede or follow the comedy as well as separate its acts. The intermèdes of George Dandin (1668) have no bearing on the comedy; nor do those of Les amants magnifiques (1670), which include a sung prologue (first intermède) before the comedy, a self-contained pastorale (third intermède, between Acts 2 and 3) and a brilliant operatic celebration of the Pythian games following the comedy (sixth intermède). On the other hand, La princesse d’Elide (1664) begins with an intermède, a sung prologue preparing the action of the comedy, and minor characters from the comedy take part in its other intermèdes. Le bourgeois gentilhomme (1670) also contains intermèdes closely related to the plot, yet concludes with the Ballet des nations, an intermède totally independent of the comedy.

In mid-18th-century French opera, ‘intermède’ had two meanings. It was the translation of the Italian ‘intermezzo’ to refer to the Italian opere buffe that were performed in Paris in French. Thus Pergolesi’s La serva padrona, when performed in Paris in French translation as La servante maîtresse (1754), was termed a ‘comédie mêlée d'ariettes, intermède italien’. When Rousseau defined ‘intermède’ as ‘a work of music and dance inserted between the acts of an opera, or sometimes a comedy’, he was describing the French practice for the latter but only the original Italian one for the former. In France these translations were always given as independent works – one of two or three on an evening's programme. By extension, ‘intermède’ was also applied to works in a similar lighthearted spirit and generally in one or two acts, originally written in French. These were performed at either the Académie Royale de Musique, where they were sung throughout (e.g. Rousseau’s Le devin du village, 1752), or the Opéra-Comique or other theatres, where they had spoken dialogue (e.g. Duni’s Nina et Lindor, 1758). By the late 18th century the term ‘intermède’ had virtually disappeared.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

ES (‘Intermezzo’; P. Mélèse)

Dictionnaire universel françois et latin (Dictionnaire de Trévoux) (Paris, 1743–52)

D. Diderot: ‘Intermède’, Encylopédie,ou Dictionnaire raisonné des sciences, des arts et des métiers, ed. D. Diderot and others (Paris, 1751–80)

J.-J. Rousseau: Dictionnaire de musique (Paris, 1768/R; Eng. trans., 1771)

H. Prunières: Le ballet de cour en France avant Benserade et Lully (Paris, 1914/R)

L.E. Reichenburg: Contribution à l’histoire de la ‘querelle des bouffons’ (Paris, 1937)

W.H. McCabe: ‘Music and Dance on a 17th-Century College Stage’, MQ, xxiv (1938), 313–22

F.A. Yates: The French Academies of the Sixteenth Century (London, 1947/R)

F.A. Yates: ‘Poésie et musique dans les “Magnificences” au mariage du duc de Joyeuse, Paris, 1581’, Musique et poésie au XVIe siècle: Paris 1953, 241–64

R. Lebègue: ‘Les représentations dramatiques à la cour des Valois’, Les fêtes de la Renaissance [I]: Royaumont 1955, 85–91

R.W. Lowe: Marc-Antoine Charpentier et l’opéra de collège (Paris, 1966)

I. Mamczarz: Les intermèdes comiques italiens au XVIIIe siècle en France et en Italie (Paris, 1972)

E. Lance: ‘Molière the Musician: a Tercentenary View’, MR, xxxv (1974), 120–30

A. Niderst: ‘La tragédie à intermèdes musicaux (1650–1670)’, Les premiers opéras en Europe: Paris 1988, 141–51

M. Noiray: ‘L'opera italiana in Francia nel secolo XVIII’, SOI, ii (1991)

J.S. Powell: ‘L’aspect proteiforme du premier internède du Malade imaginaire’, Société Marc-Antoine Charpentier: Bulletin (July, 1991), 2–14

A. Fabiano: I ‘buffoni’ alla conquista di Parigi tra ‘Ancien Régime’ e Restaurazione (1752–1815) (Turin, 1998)

J.S. Powell: Music and Theatre in France, 1600–1680 (New York, 2000)

JAMES R. ANTHONY/(with M. ELIZABETH C. BARTLET)

Intermedio [intromessa, introdutto, tramessa, tramezzo, intermezzo]

(It.; Fr. intermède).

A form of musico-dramatic entertainment inserted between the acts of plays in the Renaissance and Baroque periods.

3. Intermedi and Renaissance dramatic theory.

2. Early types.

4. Intermedi and the chorus in tragedy.

5. Intermedi in Florence: 1518–89.

6. Intermedi and opera in the 17th century.

DAVID NUTTER

Intermedio

1. Introduction.

Intermedi were first performed at the court in Ferrara in the late 15th century between the acts of the ancient comedies of Plautus and Terence and those of their humanist successors. Because these plays were divided into five acts four intermedi were required; later intermedi were added before and after the play to increase the number to six, but that was by no means the rule. Since the stage remained open for the entirety of the play once the curtain had been drawn, the insertion of intermedi was a means of clarifying the division of the play into acts. In some instances only instrumental music was used, played out of sight of the audience (intermedio non apparente or ‘invisible’). Far more popular, however, was the staged or ‘visible’ type (intermedio apparente), performed by costumed singers, actors and dancers who enacted a pastoral or mythological story through pantomime and rhythmic movement. During the 16th century attempts were made to unify in theme the intermedi for one performance, or to connect them with the play in some way. Learned and complex literary themes notwithstanding, the attraction of intermedi remained that of entertaining the spectators. Court intermedi, those produced for a specific occasion such as a wedding, were the most lavish and costly of all, and combined the ‘marvels’ of stage effects with mythological allegories designed to flatter the patrons in the audience. Regrettably, little of the music composed for intermedi survives. Only two complete sets of intermedio music are extant, those performed in Florence in 1539 and 1589, issued in special commemorative editions. But many accounts of performances survive in letters and diaries, and in the specially printed description booklets of contemporary writers; these often give detailed information about costuming, scenery, music, instruments and other particulars. In addition, drawings and engravings of costumes, stage perspectives, machinery and sets for intermedi are important supplementary material. The intermedio proved popular in France (under the name Intermède) and provided a certain impetus to early opera; intermedi were also precursors of the 18th-century Neapolitan intermezzo (see Intermezzo (ii)). (See also Masque.)

Intermedio

2. Early types.

Music played from behind the scenes was often used to fill gaps between the acts of plays, as once the curtain that covered the stage set was removed it could not be replaced. This type of intermedio, where the stage remained empty and the performers were hidden, served to mark off the acts without unduly diverting attention from the play itself. An early example of this intermedio non apparente is mentioned in the Ferrarese court diarist Bernardino Zambotti’s account of the performance in Ferrara in 1487 of Niccolò da Correggio’s Fabula di Caephalo, which is described as having ‘the sounds of diverse instruments between the acts’ (‘intermedii a li acti’), the first known use of the term. In 1496 Baldassare Taccone’s Danae was performed in Milan (with stage machinery designed by Leonardo da Vinci); Taccone’s stage directions at the end of the acts indicate that ‘the large instruments were hidden behind the stage machines’, whereas the ‘pifferi, cornamuse, timpani e altri instromenti occulti’ were probably distributed behind the two-level stage. Ariosto’s I suppositi, given before Pope Leo X in Rome in 1519, had intermedi performed by shawms, cornamuse, cornetts, viols, lutes, a small organ with different registers, a flute and a voice, as well as a vocal consort. The last intermedio was staged: ‘a moresca that portrayed the tale of Gorgon’. The device of hidden music played from behind the scenes continued throughout the 16th century. Originally an extra-dramatic interpolation, it was soon adapted to more expressive ends, such as setting the mood of the play as the curtain rose, or accompanying onstage singers alone, or in conjunction with onstage instruments and singers in order to amplify the sound.

Intermedi did not disappear after the birth of opera but became interwoven with it. Intermedio traditions furnished many of the themes and conventions of early opera. Rinuccini’s libretto for Dafne is an expansion of the third intermedio for 1589, the battle of Apollo and Python; the same author’s libretto for Euridice, set by both Peri and Caccini, had its antecedents in the ubiquitous infernal scenes, and in particular the episode of Psyche in the underworld in Cini’s intermedi of 1565. Of all the early operas, Monteverdi’s Orfeo (1607) draws most heavily on the intermedio tradition. The change in scene from pastoral to infernal, Apollo’s rescue of Orpheus from the Bacchantes and their ascent to heaven on a cloud, the large and varied groups of instruments often used for atmospheric effects, the danced choruses and the final moresca, are features already familiar from 16th-century intermedi.

As well as absorbing much from the intermedio tradition, operas, like spoken plays, were felt to need their own intermedi for contrast. Both genres continued to have intermedi written for them occasionally in the 17th century. Caccini’s opera Il rapimento di Cefalo (libretto by Chiabrera), performed in Florence in 1600 for the proxy wedding of Maria de’ Medici to Henri IV of France, had intermedi devised by Giovanni de’ Medici requiring 100 musicians and 1000 men to work the machines. In 1608, for the wedding of Cosimo II de’ Medici and Maria Maddalena of Austria, M.A. Buonarroti’s play Il giudizio di Paride was performed at Florence with intermedi representing Astraea, the garden of Calypso, Amerigo Vespucci’s ship (the first historical intermedio; fig.6), Vulcan and the temple of peace. Alfonso Fontanelli, who was among the spectators, wrote that the play was hardly noticed, either because the story was too well known or because the attraction lay in the intermedi. Another entertainment for this occasion, Francesco Cini’s La veglia dei sogni, was performed between court dances in the manner of an intermedio; dances by courtiers could also serve as intermedi, as they did for Marco da Gagliano’s opera La Flora (1628).

The intermedio apparente continued in Italy throughout the first half of the 17th century, and was probably a more common form of association of music and spectacle than opera was during that period. Several were given with the sponsorship of the Florentine court, such as Olimpia et Bireno (music by Andrea Salvadori), used between the acts of Antonio Folchi’s comedy La pertica in 1622, or the intermedi of Jacopo Cicognini’s Il martirio di S Agata (music by G.B. da Gagliano) of the same year. Even away from Florence the intermedi of L’Ilarocosmo of Ignazio Bracci were used for a Medici wedding (1621; music by Pietro Pace). Guarini’s L’Idropica, performed for the wedding of Francesco Gonzaga and Marguerite of Savoy at Mantua in 1608, had intermedi specially written for the occasion by Chiabrera (music by Monteverdi, Salamone Rossi, Marco da Gagliano and others) and followed the courtly tradition of intermedi established earlier at Florence.

The principal environment of the intermedio was in the literary academies, which in small and large towns produced a constant stream of spoken comedies and other plays with intermedi. The Accademia dei Ravvivati of Bologna performed a series of intermedi with music by Ottavio Vernizzi for Silvestro Branchi’s plays including Stratira (1617), the intermedi Ulisse e Circe for the opera L’Alteo (1619) and L’amorosa innocenza (1632). The Accademici Inviati of Vicenza maintained a similar tradition. Most of these intermedi are known only by their texts, printed with the plays for which they were devised. Those for which music survives include G.B. Boschetti’s Strali d’amore (1618), composed for an unidentified comedy at Viterbo in 1616, Girolamo Giacobbi’s L’Aurora ingannata (1608), given between the acts of Ridolfo Campeggi’s Filarmindo at Bologna in 1608 and Domenico Belli’s Orfeo dolente (1616), performed with a Florentine revival of Tasso’s Aminta in 1616. Intermedi of this kind probably diminished in frequency with the spread of opera to the provincial centres about mid-century.

Stefano Landi’s Il Sant’Alessio, first performed at Rome in 1631 or 1632 (1634), is one of the few printed scores that contains an intermedio, the scene added after the first act, that introduces dancing for the sake of diversity. Another Roman opera, Chi soffre speri (1639) by Virgilio Mazzocchi and Marco Marazzoli, has an intermedio after the second act using chorus and ballet, entitled ‘Alla fiera’ (‘At the fair’) for which Marazzoli wrote the music. Among the courts that imported Italian musicians for the purpose of performing operas was the Polish court at Warsaw, where the opera La Santa Cecilia, believed to be by Marco Scacchi, was staged in 1637. This work (an opera, not an oratorio, in spite of its sacred action) had six mythological intermedi, which differ in subject matter from the libretto proper.

In the second half of the century, most Italian intermedi were composed for the public theatres which dominated the operatic scene. A good example is furnished by the revivals of Venetian operas in Rome at the Teatro Tordinona in the 1670s where Stradella composed intermedi for operas by Cavalli, Cesti, Sartorio and others. Stradella’s insertions show the persistence of the mythological divertissement in the intermedio tradition, and perhaps also a greater fondness for pomp and splendour on the part of Roman as compared with Venetian audiences. Venetian plays continued to use intermedi in the 1650s, however, when Giacomo Castoreo, who acted as librettist for Cavalli and P.A. Ziani, produced several stage works with ‘intermedi fatti per la musica’.

Typical of the Italian genre in France were the intermèdes for Molière’s Le malade imaginaire, first performed at Paris in 1673, and in a second version in 1674. On both occasions music was provided by Charpentier, who had studied with Carissimi at Rome. The Italian background of these French intermèdes is apparent, but the influence of French taste appears in the considerable use made of the ballet; the intermedio after the first act is opened by a character called ‘Polichinelle’, and the words are in Italian, not French. Although the circumstances that had made the intermedio a splendid and extravagant court entertainment had changed during the 17th century, the tradition of offering variety and diversity by way of interludes in both spoken plays and operas had by no means died out; it provided stage music with an important point of departure for future developments.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

AllacciD

EinsteinIM

FenlonMM

MGG2 (‘Intermedium’; N. Pirrotta/F. Dangel-Hofmann)

PirrottaDO

SolertiMBD

G.B. Giraldi Cinthio: Discorsi … intorno al comporre de i romanzi, delle commedie, e delle tragedie, e di altre maniere di poesie (Ferrara, 1554); ed. G. Antimaco [E. Camerini], Biblioteca rara, lii–liii (Milan, 1864)

L. de’ Sommi: Quattro dialoghi in materia di rappresentazioni sceniche (MS, 1556), ed. F. Marotti (Milan, 1968)

O. Toscanella: Precetti necessarii … sopra diverse cose pertinenti alla grammatica, poetica, retorica, historia, topica, loica et ad altre facoltà (Venice, 1562)

G. Bombasi: Il successo dell’Alidoro (Reggio Emilia, 1568); ed. M. Ariani: Il teatro italiano: la tragedia del Cinquecento (Turin, 1977), ii, 984–1008

N. Sabbatini: Pratica di fabricar scene e machine ne’ teatri (Ravenna, 1638); ed. E. Povoledo (Rome, 1955)

A. Perrucci: Dell’arte rappresentativa premeditata, ed all’improviso (Naples, 1699/R)

A. d’Ancona: Sacre rappresentazioni dei secoli XIV, XV e XVI (Florence, 1872)

A. d’Ancona: Origini del teatro italiano (Turin, 1877, 2/1891/R)

A. Warburg: ‘I costumi teatrali per gli intermezzi del 1589’, Atti dell’Accademia del R. Istituto musicale di Firenze, xxxiii (1895), 103–46; repr. in G. Bing, ed.: Aby Warburg: Gesammelte Schriften, i (Leipzig,1932), 259–300, 394–438

A. Solerti: Gli albori del melodramma (Milan, 1904–5/R)

M. Maylender: Storia delle accademie d’Italia (Bologna, 1926–30)

A. Einstein: ‘Firenze prima della monodia’, RaM, vii (1934), 253–74

F. Ghisi: Feste musicali della Firenze medicea (Florence, 1939/R)

H. Engel: ‘Nochmals die Intermedien von Florenz 1589’, Festschrift Max Schneider zum achtzigsten Geburtstage, ed. W. Vetter (Leipzig, 1955), 71–86

F. Ghisi: ‘Un aspect inédit des intermèdes de 1589 à la cour médicéenne’, Les fêtes de la Renaissance [I]: Royaumont 1955, 145–52

D.P. Walker: ‘La musique des intermèdes florentins de 1589 et l’humanisme’, Les fêtes de la Renaissance [I]: Royaumont 1955, 133–44

H. Engel: Luca Marenzio (Florence, 1956)

L. Schrade, ed.: La représentation d’Edipo tiranno au Teatro Olimpico (Vicene 1585) (Paris, 1960)

G. Favilli: ‘Bibliografia della collana palatina di commedie’, Studi secenteschi, iii (1962), 193–223; iv (1963), 184–224; continued by M.C. Frulli Maggini, ix (1968), 299–361

D.P. Walker: Musique des intermèdes de ‘La pellegrina’, Les fêtes du mariage de Ferdinand de Médicis et de Christine de Lorraine, Florence, 1589, i (Paris, 1963)

A.M. Nagler: Theatre Festivals of the Medici, 1539–1637 (New Haven, CT, 1964/R)

A.C. Minor and B.Mitchell, eds.: A Renaissance Entertainment: Festivities for the Marriage of Cosimo I, Duke of Florence, in 1539 (Columbia, MO, 1968)

C. Molinari: Le nozze degli dei: un saggio sul grande spettacolo italiano nel Seicento (Rome, 1968)

G. Gaeta Bertelà and A. Petrioli Tofani, eds.: Feste e apparati medicei da Cosimo I a Cosimo II: mostra di disegni e incisioni (Florence, 1969)

W. Osthoff: Theatergesang und darstellende Musik in der italienischen Renaissance (15. und 16. Jahrhundert) (Tutzing, 1969)

W.F. Kümmel: ‘Ein deutscher Bericht über die Florentinischen Intermedien des Jahres 1589’, AnMc, no.9 (1970), 1–19

H.M. Brown: ‘Psyche’s Lament: some Music for the Medici Wedding in 1565’, Words and Music: the Scholar’s View … in Honor of A. Tillman Merritt, ed. L. Berman (Cambridge, MA, 1972), 1–27

W. Kirkendale: L’Aria di Fiorenza, id est Il ballo del Gran Duca (Florence, 1972)

H.C. Slim: A Gift of Madrigals and Motets (Chicago, 1972)

H.M. Brown: Sixteenth-Century Instrumentation: the Music for the Florentine Intermedii, MSD, xxx (1973)

F.A. Gallo: La prima rappresentazione al Teatro Olimpico (Milan, 1973)

F. Marotti: Lo spettacolo dall’Umanesimo al Manierismo (Milan, 1974)

F.W. Sternfeld: ‘Aspects of Italian Intermedi and Early Operas’, Convivium musicorum: Festschrift Wolfgang Boetticher, ed. H. Hüschen and D.-R. Moser (Berlin, 1974), 359–66

J. Haar: ‘Madrigals from Three Generations: the MS Brussels, Bibl. du Conservatoire Royal, 27.731’, RIM, x (1975), 242–64

M. Fabbri, E. Garbero Zorzi and A.M.P. Tofani, eds.: Il luogo teatrale a Firenze: Brunelleschi, Vasari, Buontalenti, Parigi (Milan, 1975)

I. Fenlon: ‘Music and Spectacle at the Gonzaga Court, c.1580–1600’, PRMA, ciii (1976–7), 90–105

G.M. Bergman: Lighting in the Theatre (Stockholm and Totowa, NJ, 1977)

L. Zorzi: Il teatro e la città: saggi sulla scena italiana (Turin, 1977)

L. Zorzi and others, ed.: ‘Il teatro dei Medici’, Quaderni di teatro, no.7 (1980) [whole issue]

D.S. Butchart: ‘The Festive Madrigals of Alessandro Stiggio’, PRMA, cvii (1980–81), 46–59

S. Mamone: Il teatro nella Firenze medicea (Milan, 1981)

J.W. Hill: ‘Florentine Intermedi sacri e morali, 1549–1622’, IMSCR XIII: Strasbourg 1982, iii, 265–301

T. Carter: ‘A Florentine Wedding of 1608’, AcM, lv (1983), 89–107

A. Petrioli Tofani: ‘Contributi allo studio degli apparati e delle feste medicee’, Firenze e la Toscana dei Medici nell’Europa del ’500, ed. N. Pirrotta (Florence, 1983), 645–62

D. Nutter: ‘A Tragedy for Henry III of France, Venice, 1574’, Renaissance Studies in Honor of Craig Hugh Smyth, ed. A. Morrogh and others (Florence, 1985), 591–611

D. Nutter: ‘Gli “altri intemezzi” del Guarini in una descrizione del 1587’, Studi e problemi di critica testuale, xxx (1985), 51–64

N. Pirrotta: ‘I cori per l’Edippo tiranno’, Andrea Gabrieli e il suo tempo: Venice 1985, 273–92

S.H. Parisi: Ducal Patronage in Mantua, 1587–1627: an Archival Study (diss., U. of Illinois, 1987), 142

J.W. Hill: ‘O che nuovo miracolo: a New Hypothesis about the Aria di Firenze’, In Cantu et Sermone: for Nino Pirrotta on his 80th Birthday, ed. F. Della Seta and F. Piperno (Florence, 1989), 283–322

T. Carter: ‘Non occorre nominare tanti musici: Private Patronage and Public Ceremony in Late Sixteenth-Century Florence’, I Tatti Studies: Essays in the Renaissance, iv (1991), 89–104

A. Testaverde Matteini: L’officina delle nuvole: il teatro mediceo nel 1589 e gli intermedi del Buontalenti nel memoriale di Girolamo Seriacopi (Milan 1991)

A.M. Cummings: The Politicized Muse: Music for Medici Festivals, 1512–1537 (Princeton, NJ, 1992)

W. Kirkendale: The Court Musicians in Florence during the Principate of the Medici (Florence, 1993)

S. La Via: ‘Concentus Iovis adversus saturni voces: magia, musica astrale e umanesimo nel IV intermedio fiorentino del 1589’, I Tatti Studies: Essays in the Renaissance, v (1993), 111–56

E. Povoledo: ‘Controversie monteverdiane: spazi teatrali e immagini presunte’, Claudio Monteverdi: Mantua 1993, 357–89

I. Fenlon: ‘The Origins of the Seventeenth-Century Staged Ballo’, Con che soavità: Studies in Italian Opera, Song and Dance, 1580–1740, ed. T. Carter and I. Fenlon (Oxford, 1995), 13–40

K. Harness: Amazzoni di Dio: Florentine Musical Spectacle under Maria Maddalena d’Austria and Cristina di Lorena (1620–1630) (diss., U. of Illinois, 1996)

W. Kirkendale: ‘Ancora sull’Aria di Firenze’, RIM, xxxi (1996), 53–9

B. Marignetti: ‘Gli intermedi della Pellegrina: repertori emblematici e iconologici’, RIM, xxxi (1996), 281–301

J.M. Saslow: The Medici Wedding of 1589: Florentine Festival as Theatrum Mundi (New Haven, CT and London, 1996)

M. Ossi: ‘Dalle macchine … la meraviglia: Bernado Buontalenti's Il Rapimento di Cefalo at the Medici Theater in 1600’, Opera in Context: Essays on Historical Staging from the Late Renaissance to the Time of Puccini, ed. M.A. Radice (Portland, OR, 1998), 15–35

Intermezzi.

A rare term for a piece inserted between the saraband and the gigue in a suite, as, for example, in Gottlieb Muffat’s Componimenti musicali (see Guido Adler’s introduction to DTÖ, vii, Jg.iii/3, 1896/R).

Intermezzo (i).

A term sometimes used for light theatrical works inserted between the acts of Renaissance comedies (see Intermedio).

Intermezzo (ii) (It).

Literally, an entr’acte. The term was applied during the 18th century, in place of the earlier Intermedio, to a miniature comic opera in Italian (the French counterpart is the Intermède) involving two characters (rarely three or more), performed in segments between the acts of a larger work, usually an opera seria. The genre flourished during the first half of the 18th century, then gradually disappeared, giving way to the fully fledged comic opera (see Opera buffa). Often, especially in earlier years, its name appeared in the plural as ‘intermezzi’, sometimes also ‘intermedii’, ‘scherzi musicali’ etc. This referred to its performance during the entr’actes (hence the plural) of the larger work; but from the very beginning the intermezzo was unified by a single plot and cast of characters. The segments (in effect, the ‘acts’ of the intermezzo) were known as ‘parti’, as in ‘intermezzo di due (tre) parti’. Two such ‘parts’ (performed between Acts 1 and 2 and Acts 2 and 3) were commoner than three; a third ‘part’, if present, was performed before the final change of scene in the main presentation.

The intermezzo traces its ancestry to the comic scenes of Seicento opera which, towards the end of the century, were beginning to fade away. Venice took the lead in ‘expurgating’ the librettos of the dramma per musica of its ‘improprieties’ in an attempt to lend it some of the dignity of classical tragedy. Comic scenes were glaring instances of such breaches of taste; hence their gradual removal. By the first years of the 18th century comic scenes had become rare in Venice, though not entirely absent. One important consequence of their reduction was to deprive the specialized buffo singers of their niche.

It is therefore not surprising that the earliest intermezzos known to us today were performed in Venice. And though the term may crop up earlier, in connection with the comic scenes of 17th-century opera (as in Domenico Gabrielli’s Flavio Cuniberto, 1688), Venetian intermezzos differed from traditional comic scenes in that they introduced entirely new plots and characters, and very soon developed their own, independent dramatic procedures. The very first one appears to have been Frappolone e Florinetta, performed at the S Cassiano theatre in February 1706 between the acts of the opera Statira by Francesco Gasparini. The libretto was not printed; it survives as an anonymous manuscript (I-Vnm) but may be ascribed with certainty to Pariati (the music, now lost, was most probably by the composer of the main opera, Gasparini). There may well have been other intermezzos performed, but not published, at about that time: only in October 1707 did the Venetian censorship require publication of intermezzo librettos, thus placing them under its supervision.

The S Angelo theatre briefly entered the field, but during the next few years it was the S Cassiano, with Pariati as poet and Gasparini and (later) Albinoni as composers, that presented the most successful intermezzos. At least three of these were to gain widespread fame as their interpreters, the Mantuan basso buffo G.B. Cavana and the Bolognese contralto Santa Marchesini, set out on their travels: Gasparini’s Erighetta e Don Chilone (1707) and Parpagnacco (1708), and Albinoni’s Pimpinone (1708), the score of which is the earliest specimen of its kind to survive. Erighetta is loosely modelled on Le malade imaginaire by Molière, who was to become a favourite source of subjects for intermezzos.

In contrast to the Venetian practice of only sporadically performing such independent intermezzos with opere serie, the Neapolitan custom during the first two decades of the 18th century was to incorporate comic scenes into nearly every new opera; local composers, including Giuseppe Vignola, Francesco Mancini, Francesco Feo and Leonardo Leo, added the traditional scene buffe to works first produced elsewhere without them. After 1720, when the comic elements finally gained complete independence from the opera seria libretto, the Neapolitan intermezzo entered a golden age, exemplified in the works of such composers as Domenico Sarro (intermezzos of Brunetta e Burlotto frequently revived under the title La capricciosa e il credulo, 1720), Hasse (La contadina, 1728), Pergolesi (La serva padrona, 1733) and Giuseppe Sellitto (La vedova ingegnosa, 1735). Neapolitan librettists of that time include Bernardo Saddumene, G.A. Federico and Tommaso Mariani, all of whom were at the same time providing texts for the new, full-length opere buffe playing in that city’s smaller theatres.

Substantial contributions to the intermezzo repertory were made by the Bolognese composer G.M. Orlandini, whose works, including the enormously successful Il marito giocatore (1719), had their first performances in different Italian cities and seem to belong to no particular local tradition. Important figures active outside Italy include Francesco Conti (Vienna) and Telemann (Hamburg).

Apart from Molière’s comedies, at least six of which were adapted as librettos for intermezzos (e.g. Antonio Salvi’s version of Le bourgeois gentilhomme, published at Florence in 1722 as L’artigiano gentiluomo), librettists made use of a variety of other sources. Situations from the commedia dell’arte were ready to hand, and there is no doubt that intermezzo singers learnt much from their confrères in the matter of acting; unwritten lazzi (sight gags) were part of their stock-in-trade, as several contemporary writers testify. ‘These buffoons cry, roar with laughter, throw themselves about, indulge in all manner of pantomime, and never deviate from the beat by so much as an eighth of a second’, wrote Président de Brosses from Rome in 1740. The English traveller Edward Wright, in an account of intermezzo singers he heard at Venice about 1720, wrote: ‘They laugh, scold, imitate other Sounds, as the cracking of a Whip, the rumbling of Chariot Wheels, and all to Music’. Although some of these effects were doubtless improvised by the performers, musical scores furnish abundant examples of written-out portrayals of laughter, sneezing, weeping, the palpitations of a love sick heart and the like. Other important characteristics of the buffo style exemplified in the intermezzo include a lively, frequently disjunct vocal line; constant repetition of short, balanced phrases; parody effects directed mainly at the musical conventions of opera seria; and – above all – absolute fidelity of music to text, frequently manifested by extreme changes of tempo and style within a single aria or duet. As a contrast to the prevailing buffo style, composers sometimes introduced mock-pathetic numbers and arias modelled on dance rhythms. From their texts and occasional stage directions, it appears that the latter were sometimes actually danced by the parti buffe, whose favourite step seems to have been the minuet.

Stock comedy figures, such as the old man and the braggart captain, people the world of the intermezzo. By far the most common of the stock types is the cunning servant girl, widow or shepherdess who, despite her humble station, through feminine wiles plays a burla (trick) on her male partner or ensnares him in matrimony. Often the soubrette’s name indicates her sharp cunning, as, for example, Serpina (‘little snake’) in Federico’s La serva padrona (1733) or Vespetta (‘little wasp’) in Pariati’s Pimpinone (1708). Other common dramatic themes include the supernatural, probably deriving from the close connection between the comic characters and transformations of the intermedi in 17th-century opera, and satire directed at the opera seria (e.g. Sarro’s L’impresario delle isole Canarie, 1724, attributed to Metastasio).

The intermezzo exhibits nearly as rigid a standard musical format as contemporary opera seria. Each ‘part’ customarily contains one or two arias for each of the two singing roles (one or more mute roles frequently appear) and a final duet, all in da capo form and separated by secco recitatives. Accompanied recitative appears infrequently and usually in a parody context, while overtures and other types of independent instrumental music are lacking altogether or confined to short, concluding dance pieces. But stylistically it is more progressive; its simple harmonies, homophonic accompaniments, general melodiousness and symmetrical phrase structure are clear harbingers of later 18th-century Classical style.

The vogue of intermezzos spread quickly to the playhouse, where commedia dell’arte companies were fighting a losing battle to retain some of the audience they had lost to opera. As early as 1711, comedians inserted musical intermezzos between the acts of their plays at the S Samuele theatre, Venice; in the 1730s Carlo Goldoni served his theatrical apprenticeship as purveyor of intermezzo librettos to another company acting at that theatre.

During the first half of the 18th century travelling singers, among them the celebrated team of Antonio Ristorini and Rosa Ungarelli, carried the intermezzo repertory throughout Italy and to nearly every European city that supported Italian opera; intermezzos performed between the acts of commedia dell’arte plays at Moscow in 1731 preceded by five years the earliest opere serie heard in Russia. Intermezzo performances by itinerant troupes are recorded as early as 1716 in Wolfenbüttel, 1717 in Brunswick and Dresden, 1724 in Prague, 1726 in Mannheim, 1727 in Breslau and 1737 in London. The process of diffusion continued with the tours of Angelo and Pietro Mingotti’s opera companies in Austria, Germany and Denmark betwen 1737 and 1760 and in conjunction with the pantomimes presented by the impresario Nicolini’s troupe of Piccoli Olandesi (Dutch children) in central Europe between about 1745 and 1750. Perhaps the most significant of the intermezzo’s extra-territorial conquests was Paris. Performances of opere buffe and intermezzos there during the seasons of 1752–4 by a troupe of singers brought from Strasbourg by Eustachio Bambini precipitated the Querelle des Bouffons, a literary polemic which inspired many musical parodies and imitations that opened a new chapter in the history of French opera.

By 1750 ballets had almost completely supplanted intermezzos as the principal entr’acte diversions in performances of opere serie, although works to music by such composers as Rinaldo da Capua, Gioacchino Cocchi, Niccolò Piccinni and Baldassare Galuppi continued to figure occasionally between the acts of Italian spoken plays throughout the remainder of the 18th century. Because of the size of their casts (up to seven), which permitted large-scale ensembles and concerted finales, these intermezzos, or ‘farsette’ as they were often called, differ little from contemporary opere buffe except in length and function (see Farsa). Many, in fact, were simply versions of full-length comic operas shortened to fit between the acts of a play and reduced to fit the number of available singers (e.g. Il filosofo di campagna, an opera buffa by Goldoni and Galuppi, Venice, 1754, and La serva astuta, a condensed version performed as an intermezzo at Venice in 1761).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

A. Perrucci: Dell’arte rappresentativa premeditata, ed all’improviso (Naples, 1699)

Raccolta copiosa d’intermedi, parte da rappresentarsi col canto, alcuni senza musica, con altri in fine in lingua milanese (Milan, 1723)

F. Quadrio: Della storia e della ragione d’ogni poesia (Bologna and Milan, 1739–52)

R. Colomb, ed.: Le Président de Brosses en Italie: lettres familières écrites d’Italie en 1739 et 1740 par Charles de Brosses (Paris, 1858)

P. Toldo: L’oeuvre de Molière et sa fortune en Italie (Turin, 1910)

P. Pulver: ‘The Intermezzi of the Opera’, PMA, xliii (1916–17), 139–63

H. Nietan: Die Buffoszenen der spätvenezianischen Oper (diss., U. of Halle, 1924)

L. Reichenburg: Contribution à l’histoire de la ‘Querelle des Bouffons’ (Philadelphia, 1937)

L. Lazarevich: The Role of the Neapolitan Intermezzo in the Evolution of Eighteenth-Century Musical Style: Literary, Symphonic and Dramatic Aspects, 1685–1735 (diss., Columbia U., 1970)

O. Landmann: Quellenstudien zum ‘intermezzo comico per musica’ und zu seiner Geschichte in Dresden (diss., U. of Rostock, 1972)

I. Mamczarz: Les intermèdes comiques italiens au XVIIIe siècle en France et en Italie (Paris, 1972)

M.F. Robinson: Naples and Neapolitan Opera (Oxford, 1972)

R. Strohm: Die italienische Oper im 18. Jahrhundert (Wilhelmshaven, 1979)

C.E. Troy: The Comic Intermezzo: a Study in the History of Eighteenth-Century Opera (Ann Arbor, 1979)

M. Talbot: Introduction to T. Albinoni: Pimpinone , RRMBE, xliii (1983)

P. Weiss: ‘Venetian Commedia dell’Arte “Operas” in the Age of Vivaldi’, MQ, lxx (1984), 195–217

S. Döhring and W. Kirsch, eds.: Geschichte und Dramaturgie des Operneinakters (Laaber, 1991) [incl. G. Lazarevich: ‘The Significance of the Italian Comic Intermezzo as an 18th-Century Small Form’, 85–94]

CHARLES E. TROY, PIERO WEISS

Intermezzo (iii).

A term used since the early 19th century for movements or sections, generally within larger works; also for independent pieces, often for piano solo and predominantly lyrical in character. Burney was among the first to use the term to describe instrumental music. In a brief summary of Haydn’s style he wrote: ‘He has likewise movements which are sportive, folatres, and even grotesque, for the sake of variety; but they are only the entre-mets, or rather intermezzi, between the serious business of his other movements’ (BurneyH, ii, 959–60). Mendelssohn gave the title ‘Intermezzo’ to the third movement of his Second Piano Quartet (1823), where it replaces the usual scherzo, and Brahms followed this precedent in his G minor Piano Quartet (op.25) of 1863. Schumann used the term frequently in his early piano music. The middle section of the scherzo in the Sonata op.11 is so called: its burlesque character (‘alla burla ma pomposo’) with the exaggerated rhetoric of its recitative passage perhaps suggests that Schumann, his mind at that time never far from the world of Harlequin and Columbine, may have conceived it in terms of the earlier tradition of the comic intermezzo. In the second number of Kreisleriana op.16, intermezzos form two sections comparable to the two trios which Schumann, like Beethoven and others, sometimes provided in his scherzos; a similar structure is found in the third of the Romanzen op.28. Here Schumann seems to have thought of the term as almost synonymous with ‘trio’, but the intermezzos of op.4, which he described to his friend Töphen as ‘larger Papillons’, are independent pieces which themselves have middle sections marked ‘alternativo’. The intermezzo of Brahms’s Piano Sonata op.5 forms an integral part of the work, leading into the finale, as does that in Balakirev’s Piano Sonata. Brahms also composed numerous independent intermezzos (e.g. as in op.76), and his last works include 14 pieces so called (in opp.116–19).

In the 20th century the term was used a good deal in light music, but less in symphonic works. The ‘Intermezzo interrotto’ of Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra provides, apart from its satirical reference to Shostakovich in the ‘interruption’, a point of lyrical repose in the score. In Elgar’s ‘Enigma’ Variations, the tenth (‘Dorabella’) is an intermezzo whose feathery delicacy is calculated to give precisely the right contrast between ‘Nimrod’ and ‘GRS’.

The intermezzo as an instrumental interlude between acts was often used in operatic scores and theatre music of the 19th and 20th centuries. Mascagni’s Cavalleria rusticana, Puccini’s Manon Lescaut, Delius’s Fennimore and Gerda and Wolf-Ferrari’s I gioielli della Madonna contain familiar examples that are virtually equivalent to entr’actes. They may function simply as points of relaxation in a score with which they have no musical or dramatic connection. The intermezzo in Mendelssohn’s music for A Midsummer Night’s Dream, on the other hand, is carefully related to dramatic events at the close of the second act and the beginning of the third.

MAURICE J.E. BROWN

International Alliance for Women in Music [IAWM].

International organization created in 1995 through the merging of the International Congress on Women in Music (ICWM), American Women Composers (AWC) and the International League of Women Composers (ILWC). The International Alliance for Women in Music aims to build on the work of the three original organizations in celebrating and encouraging the activities of women in music.

The League of Women Composers was founded by composer Nancy Van de Vate in 1975 and renamed the International League of Women Composers in 1979. In the words of its founder, the ILWC aimed ‘to create change and to provide a larger number of women musicians their first real opportunity to enter the professional mainstream’. At the time of the merger it was a networking organization operating in over 36 countries, with a well-established journal. The ILWC supervised various projects, including the publication of a directory of music by women, several radio series, an association with Arsis Press (which specializes in the publication of music by women) and a competition for student composers.

American Women Composers was founded by composer Tommie E. Carl in 1976. The organization aimed to promote the work of American women composers by establishing a library of scores (housed at George Washington University), publishing the biannual AWC NewsForum, mounting concerts and producing recordings of music by American women.

The International Congress on Women in Music, initially organized by Jeannie Pool, held its first event in 1980, and thereafter held regular congresses in the United States and Europe consisting of concerts, workshops and academic papers all aimed at an international exchange of information about music by women. In 1990 the organization merged with the ILWC.

The IAWM publishes the IAWM Journal three times a year and, since 1997, a scholarly journal Women and Music: a Journal of Gender and Culture. It also holds regular IAWM congresses (in the tradition of the ICWM) and maintains an extensive website which includes links to bibliographies, discographies and course syllabuses on women, gender and music; women in music organizations worldwide; music publishers, archives and libraries, and many other resources.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

B. Beath: ‘The International League of Women Composers’, ILWC Journal (1991), July, 1–2

S. Fry: ‘The ICWM Legacy: a Chronicle and Review of the International Congress on Women in Music’, IAWM Journal, i/1 (1995), 4–8

J. Shatin: ‘American Women Composers, Inc.’, ibid., 3–4

G. Straughn: ‘The International League of Women Composers’, ibid., 8–10

SOPHIE FULLER

International Association of Music Information Centres (IAMIC).

A worldwide network of national organizations promoting new music. It was established in 1958, originally as a meeting of ‘National Music Centre Representatives’; IAMIC was then formed in 1962 as a constituent branch of the International association of music libraries (IAML). This affiliation continued until 1991 when IAMIC became a fully independent association under the aegis of the International Music Council. In 1999 it had 40 members, most of which are autonomous organizations with national status, giving them access to funds from a range of sources including national, regional and local government, arts councils, major foundations and copyright organizations. Music information centres have as their chief purpose the documentation and promotion at home and abroad of their national music (with emphasis generally on contemporary art music), and collect scores, parts, recordings, books, articles, analyses of compositions, interviews and press cuttings; many also issue publications and recordings. The following is a list of such centres.

Australia: Australian Music Centre, PO Box N 690, Grosvenor Place, NSW 1200

Austria: Music Informations Zentrum Österreich (MICA), Stiftgasse 29, 1070 Wien

Belgium: Centre Belge de Documentation Musicale/Belgisch Centrum voor Muziekdocumentatie (CeBeDeM), rue d'Arlon 75–77, 1040 Bruxelles

Brazil: UNICAMP, CEP 6136, 13083–970 Campinas, São-Paulo

Canada: Canadian Music Centre, Chalmers House, 20 St Joseph Street, Toronto, Ontario M4Y 1J9

Colombia: Centro de Documentación Musical, C/24, No.5–60, 4 Piso, Santafé de Bogoté 1

Croatia: Music Information Centre, Zagreb Concert Management, Kneza Mislava 18, 10 000 Zagreb

Czech Republic: Hudební Informační Středisko, Besední 3, 118 00 Praha 1

Denmark: Dansk Musik Informations Center, Gråbrødre Torv 16, 1154 Københaven K

Estonia: Eesti Muusika Infokeskus, Lauteri 7, Tallinn 10145

Finland: Finnish Music Information Centre, Lauttasaarentie 1, 00200 Helsinki

France: Centre de Documentation de la Musique Contemporaine, Cité de la Musique, 16 Place de la Fontaine aux Lions, 75019 Paris

Georgia: Georgian Music Information Centre, David Agmashenebeli Avenue 123, 380064 Tbilisi

Germany: German Music Information Centre, Weberstrasse 59, 53113 Bonn

— Internationales Musikinstitut Darmstadt, Nieder-Ramstädter Strasse 190, 64285 Darmstadt

Great Britain: British Music Information Centre, 10 Stratford Place, London W1N 9AE

— Scottish Music Information Centre, 1 Bowmont Gardens, Glasgow G12 9LR

— Welsh Music Information Centre, c/o Cardiff University, 40–41 Park Place, Cardiff CF1 3BB

Hungary: Magyar Zenei Tanács Zenei Információs Központ/Hungarian Music Information Centre, Hungarian Music Council, Pf 47, 1364 Budapest

Iceland: Íslensk Tónverkamidstöd/Iceland Music Information Centre, Sídumúli 34, 108 Reykjavík

Ireland: Contemporary Music Centre, 95 Lower Baggot St, Dublin 2

Israel: Israel Music Institute, 144 Hayarkon Street, 63451 Tel-Aviv

Italy: Archivi della Musica Italiana Contemporanea (AMIC), Largo di Torre Argentina 11, 00186 Roma

Japan: Nippon Kindai Ongakukan/Documentation Centre of Modern Japanese Music, 18–14 Azabudai, 1-chôme, Minato-ku, 106 Tōkyō

Lithuania: Lithuanian Music Information and Publishing Centre, Lithuanian Composers' Union, Mickeviciaus 29, 2600 Vilnius

Mexico: Centro Nacional de Investigación, Documentación e Información Musical (CENIDIM), Centro Nacional de las Artes, Torre de Investigación 7° piso, Río Churubusco, Col. Country Club, 04220 México DF

Netherlands: Donemus, Paulus Potterstrasse 16, 1071 CZ Amsterdam

— Gaudeamus Foundation, Swammerdamstrasse 38, 1091 RV Amsterdam

— Stichting Repertoire Informatiecentrum Muziek (RIM), Drift 23, 3512 BR Utrecht

New Zealand: New Zealand Music Centre (SOUNZ), PO Box 10–042, Wellington

Norway: Norsk Musikkinformasjon, Tollbugata 28, 0157 Oslo

Poland: Library of the Polish Composers' Union, 27 Rynek Starego Miasta, 00 272 Warszawa

Portugal: Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian, Carlos de Pontes Leca, av. de Berna 45, 1093 Lisboa

Slovakia: Hudobné Informačné Stredisko Hudobného Fondu/Music Information Centre of the Music Fund, Medená 29, 811 02 Bratislava

Spain: Centro de Documentación Musical, Torregalindo 10, 28016 Madrid

Sweden: Svensk Musik, Box 27327, 102 54 Stockholm

Switzerland: Fondation SUISA pour la Musique, rue de l'Hôpital 22, 2001 Neuchâtel

Ukraine: Music Information Centre of the Ukraine Composers Union, ul. Sofiuska 16/16, 252001 Kiev-1

USA: American Music Center, 30 West 26th St., Suite 1001, New York, NY 10010–2011

Yugoslavia: Yugoslav Music Information Centre (SOKOJ), Trg. Nikole Pasica 1/V, 11000 Beograd

〈www.iamic.ie〉

International Association of Music Libraries, Archives and Documentation Centres

(IAML; Fr. Association Internationale des Bibliothèques, Archives et Centres de Documentation Musicaux, AIBM; Ger. Internationale Vereinigung der Musikbibliotheken, Musikarchive und Musikdokumentationszentren, IVMB).

An organization formed after World War II to promote international cooperation and standardization in such matters as cataloguing, standards of service, personnel training and the exchange of materials between libraries. The body was founded in Paris in 1951, after preparatory meetings in Florence (1949) and Lüneburg (1950), as the Association Internationale des Bibliothèques Musicales. In 1980 its name was changed to embrace the broader interests of music archives and documentation centres, though the acronyms have remained the same. By 1998 IAML had about 2000 individual and institutional members in 45 countries throughout the world.

The association operates through a network of Professional Branches (divided by type of library, such as archives, broadcasting, music teaching institutions, public, research), Subject Commissions (grouped by type of activity, including audio-visual materials, cataloguing, bibliography, service and training) and Working Groups for specific projects. They all meet at IAML's annual conferences (or, every third year, a congress with general assembly). Two earlier groups, the Commission on Phonothèques and the Music Information Centres branch, split off to form their own associations: the International Association of Sound and Audiovisual Archives (IASA), and the International Association of Music Information Centres (IAMIC).

Since 1954 IAML has published a quarterly journal, Fontes artis musicae (FAM), which focusses on topics in music librarianship and documentation, bibliography and musicology; it also includes reports of the association's activities and annual meetings. IAML maintains an internet home page and operates an electronic discussion list, IAML-L. The association's archives are housed at the Statens Musikbibliotek, Stockholm. IAML has national branches in 22 countries, which carry out similar work at the national level. Several have their own publications, periodicals or newsletters and web sites.

IAML's first president (1951–5) was Richard S. Hill; Vladimir Fédorov, perhaps the most influential of its founding fathers, was the first secretary. Between 1954 and 1975 Fédorov was also the editor of FAM; for a period he also served as president (1962–5). The other presidents have been Alec Hyatt King (UK), Folke Lindberg (Sweden), André Jurres (Netherlands), John H. Davies (UK), Harald Heckmann (Germany), Barry S. Brook (USA), Brian Redfern (UK), Anders Lönn (Sweden), Maria Calderisi Bryce (Canada), Catherine Massip (France), Don L. Roberts (USA), Veslemöy Heintz (Sweden) and Pamela Thompson (UK). In recognition of their many services, Fédorov and Heckmann were named honorary presidents for life.

At the time of IAML's formation, in the wake of World War II, the restoration of international contacts and provision of access to musical sources and information through international cooperation were its primary objectives, as were standardization in the area of cataloguing and classification of musical documents and improving the training of music librarians. To this end, a number of working commissions were established, a journal was started, and a large-scale project to make inventories of musical sources in print and manuscript before the year 1800, a successor to Robert Eitner's Quellen-Lexikon, was initiated: the Répertoire International des Sources Musicales (RISM). It has since served as a model for three others (‘the four Rs’), all produced by cooperation between national groups and an international centre responsible for collecting and coordinating the national contributions: Répertoire international de littérature musicale (RILM), a computerized abstracting service and bibliography of scholarly writings on music throughout the world. Based at the City University of New York, it issues a printed annual volume, RILM Abstracts, and is available online and on CD-ROM.

The Répertoire International d'Iconographie Musicale (RIdIM) project exists to document visual materials relating to music. RIdIM publishes a newsletter, and since 1984 has sponsored a scholarly yearbook, Imago musicae. The RIdIM/RCMI (Research Center for Musical Iconography) is also located at the City University of New York. Most recently, the Répertoire International de la Presse Musicale (RIPM) has been established to abstract and index the contents of selected periodicals concerned with the music of the 18th to the 20th centuries. Since 1988 it has been published as a book series by UMI Research Press at Ann Arbor. There are international centres at the University of Maryland (USA) and Parma-Colorno (Italy).

Other IAML-assisted series include Documenta musicologica (Kassel, 1951–), which publishes facsimiles of printed and manuscript sources; Catalogus musicus (Kassel, 1963–), which presents the catalogues of library collections and historically important publishers; Code international de catalogage de la musique (Frankfurt, 1957–83, 5 vols.), a major effort to standardize cataloguing of music materials, now obsolete; and the Directory of Music Research Libraries (Kassel, 1967–), a sub-series (series C) of RISM. Individual publications include Guide for Dating Early Published Music (Hackensack, NJ, and Kassel, 1974) and Terminorum musicae index septem linguis redactus (Budapest and Kassel, 1978).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

H.-M. Plesske: ‘Geschichte und Funktion der Internationalen Vereiningung der Musikbibliotheken (IVMB)’, Zentralblatt für Bibliothekswesen, lxxxvi (1972), 352–9

M. Geering: ‘Geschichte und Gegenwart der “AIBM”’, Forum Musikbibliothek, 3 (1991), 197–212 [incl. list of conferences, 1949–91]

ANDERS LONN

International Association of Sound and Audiovisual Archives

[IASA] (Fr. Association Internationale d'Archives Sonores et Audiovisuelles; Ger. Internationale Vereinigung der Schall- und Audiovisuellen Archive).

Organization founded in Amsterdam in 1969 to function as a medium for international cooperation between Sound archives. It has over 350 members in more than 52 countries, including representatives of the archives themselves, as well as other individuals involved with the collection, preservation and dissemination of recorded material. In addition to an annual conference, the IASA publishes the biannual IASA Journal (formerly the Phonographic Bulletin) and a quarterly Information Bulletin; a membership directory is also available. Its specialist publications include Sound Archives: a Guide to their Establishment and Development, ed. D. Lance (Milton Keynes, 1983), and Selection in Sound Archives, ed. H. Wallace (Milton Keynes, 1984), a collection of papers given at the annual conferences. In 1999 The IASA Cataloguing Rules were published (Aarhus, 1999), and they are available, together with various technical guidelines and copies of the Information Bulletin (1997–) at the IASA website: www.llgc.org.uk/iasa.

International Bruckner Society.

See Bruckner societies.

International Composers’ Guild.

Organization formed in 1921 in New York by Varèse and Salzedo to assure performances of contemporary music. Membership was open to composers, who often performed their own music. Concerts were restricted to previously unheard works, a policy that so disturbed some members that they formed the League of Composers. Before it disbanded in 1927 the guild gave first performances of Varèse’s Hyperprism, Octandre and Intégrales, and American premières of Berg’s Kammerkonzert, Schoenberg’s Pierrot lunaire, Stravinsky’s The Wedding, and Webern’s op.5. Guest conductors included Klemperer, Reiner and Stokowski.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

D.L. Root: The Performance Guilds of Edgard Varèse (thesis, U. of Illinois, 1971)

R.A. Lott: ‘“New Music for New Ears”: the International Composers’ Guild’, JAMS, xxxvi (1983), 266–86

RITA H. MEAD/R

International Congress on Women in Music.

See International Alliance for Women in Music.

International Council for Traditional Music [ICTM].

An organization formed in London in 1947, under the name International Folk Music Council (IFMC), with the aims of furthering the study of folk music and dance, and of assisting in their practice, preservation and dissemination. The first meeting was attended by delegates from 28 countries, and since 1948 annual or biennial conferences have been held, bringing together specialists in all fields of folk music; early conferences took place in Ghana and Israel as well as in Europe and the Americas. The first president of the IFMC was Vaughan Williams; he was succeeded by Jaap Kunst, Zoltán Kodály, and, after the latter’s death in 1967, Willard Rhodes, professor of music at Columbia University, followed by Klaus Wachsmann (1973–7) and Poul Rovsing Olsen (1977–82). Maud Karpeles was honorary secretary from 1947 to 1965. The council's secretariat was in London until 1967 when it moved to the Danish Folklore Archives, Copenhagen; in 1969 it moved again, to Canada, where Professor Graham George of Queen's University, Kingston, Ontario, became honorary secretary.

The IFMC issued a journal (JIFMC) until 1968, which was superseded by a yearbook (YIFMC); it also produced numerous other publications, including bibliographies, directories, songbooks and bulletins. It had an active committee concerned with radio, television, sound and film archives, which met annually, in addition to a number of national committees and study groups. It was associated with UNESCO through its membership of the International Music Council and the International Union of Anthropological and Ethnological Sciences.

In 1981, the secretariat moved to Columbia University in New York, Dieter Christensen was appointed secretary general, and the council was renamed the International Council for Traditional Music. This reflected the expanded and less eurocentric scope of the council's goals and activities, which the term ‘folk’ alone no longer adequately described. The revised rules state that the object of the council is ‘to assist in the study, practice, documentation, preservation and dissemination of traditional music, including folk, popular, classical and urban and dance, of all countries.’

Major conferences outside Europe have since been held in Korea (1981), the USA (1983), Hong Kong (1991), Australia (1995) and Japan (1999), in addition to those in European countries (Sweden/Finland 1985, the German Democratic Republic 1987, Austria 1989, Germany 1993 and Slovakia 1997). Smaller conferences – ICTM colloquia and ICTM study group meetings – are frequently held in all continents. The ICTM continues to have national committees and liason officers as well as working more closely with national scholarly societies in many countries and with other international organizations, especially with UNESCO, to which the council is now directly affiliated. The council edits the UNESCO collection of traditional music and publishes the Yearbook for Traditional Music (until 1981 the Yearbook of the International Folk Music Council), a news bulletin and the Directory of Traditional Music. In 1995, the council had 1400 members in 89 countries and official representatives in 58 countries. Erich Stockmann succeeded Poul Rovsing Olsen as president in 1982, followed by Anthony Seeger in 1997 and Krister Olof Malm in 1999.

MAUD KARPELES/DIETER CHRISTENSEN

Internationale Bruckner-Gesellschaft.

(Ger.)See Bruckner societies.

Internationale Ferienkurse für Neue Musik.

(Ger.)Series of courses in avant-garde music, initiated in 1946 by Wolfgang Steinecke, and held in Darmstadt.

Internationale Gesellschaft für Jazzforschung

(Ger.).

International Society for Jazz Research.

Internationale Gesellschaft für Musikwissenschaft

[IGM] (Ger.).

See International Musicological Society.

Internationale Gesellschaft für Neue Musik

See International Association of Music Libraries, Archives and Documentation Centres.

International Federation of Jeunesses Musicales.

Organization founded in 1945 by the Jeunesses Musicales movement.

International Folk Music Council

[IFMC]. See International Council for Traditional Music.

International Institute for Comparative Music Studies and Documentation.

See under International institute for traditional music.

International Institute for Traditional Music [IITM].

An organization founded in West Berlin in 1963 with support from the Ford Foundation and the Berlin senate. It owed its existence to the efforts of Yehudi Menuhin, Werner Stein (the Berlin senator for art and science), Nicolai Nabokov (cultural advisor to mayor Willy Brandt), and Alain Daniélou, the institute's first director. Originally called the International Institute for Comparative Music Studies and Documentation, the institute was renamed in 1991. Its aim was to promote the study and understanding of minority and non-European musical cultures through ethnomusicological documentation, bilateral cooperative projects, publications, scholarly symposia, festivals, workshops and courses for teachers. The IITM published over 140 records in the UNESCO Collection series which are gradually being reissued on CD. Two new CD series were begun by the institute: Musical Traditions around the World (IITM/Smithsonian/Folkways) and Living Musical Traditions (IITM/Museum Edition Hamburg). The ethnomusicological journal The World of Music was published by the institute, and has been continued by the University of Bamberg. The Institute also published over 40 books, including numerous individual monographs on the music of other countries. In addition, detailed programmes documented the institute's concert events. The IITM initiated two new series of books: Intercultural Music Studies (now published by the University of Bamberg) and Musikbogen: Wege zum Verständnis fremder Musikkulturen. Scientific symposia were held regularly, while the institute’s annual Festival Traditioneller Musik was dedicated to a different topic or geographical area each year. The IITM supported cooperative projects run in partnership with, among others, the University of São Paulo, the National Museum of Bamako (Mali), the Fundación Norte (Salta, Argentina) and the Institute of Musicology of the Slovakian Academy (Bratislava). The IITM was closed at the end of 1996 for financial reasons.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

M.P. Baumann, H. Brandeis and T. de Oliveira Pinto: Musik im Dialog: Projekte und ihre Planung am Internationalen Institut für Traditionelle Musik Berlin (Berlin, 1992)

Das Internationale Institut für Traditionelle Musik e.V.: Interkulturelle Arbeit an einer Berliner Institution: Ziele, Methoden, Erfahrungen (Berlin, 1995)

M.P. Baumann, ed.: Musik im interkulturellen Dialog: zur Dekonstruktion der Ethnomusikologie in Berlin (Berlin, 1996)

MAX PETER BAUMANN

International League of Women Composers [ILWC].

See International Alliance for Women in Music.

International Library of African Music [ILAM].

It was founded in 1954 by musicologist Hugh Tracey at Roodepoort, near Johannesburg, South Africa, on the basis of the archive of recordings of traditional and popular African music which he had made since 1929 in Southern Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe), South Africa and elsewhere in southern Africa. His research was sponsored from 1947 by Eric Gallo with marketing rights, and about 1000 records were issued from 1929 to 1952 under the Regal (Columbia), Gallotone, Trek, Troubadour and HMV labels. Three recordings from this period became well-known: Mbube (Wimoweh), by Solomon Linda, which was popularized by Pete Seeger and the Weavers; Skokiaan, by the Bulawayo Cold Storage Band; and Masanga, a song with guitar by Jean Bosco Mwenda from the Belgian Congo (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo).

In the early 1950s a series of recordings made in central, eastern and southern Africa from 1948 to 1970 was issued by Decca. It was continued by Gallo as the Music of Africa, extending to 25 records. From 1954, 213 records were produced in the Sound of Africa series. It covered 15 countries and 136 languages and dialects, and was eventually published in a library series; a catalogue was issued in 1973. After Tracey's death in 1977, his son Andrew became director and moved ILAM to Rhodes University, Grahamstown, where it continued to research and publish materials relating to African music but with an increased emphasis on teaching. Since 1980, ILAM has published the annual proceedings of the Symposia on Ethnomusicology and continues to publish the journal, African Music (1954–).

ANDREW TRACEY

International Musical Society.

Society active from 1899 to 1914; it sponsored a number of valuable periodicals (SIMG, ZIMG and BSIM). See International Musicological Society.

International Music Centre

(Ger. Internationales Musikzentrum).

An organization founded in Vienna in 1961 to investigate and disseminate music through television, radio, film and records. It is a member of the International Music Council and the International Film and Television Council, and has worked in cooperation with radio stations and with several other international organizations including the European Broadcasting Union, the International Council for Traditional Music and the International Society for Music Education. It has held congresses and seminars concerned with technical and ethical aspects of music in the media and it indexes and publishes information on the subject. It has organized competitions for dance, music theatre and early music productions. The centre's publications include Films for Music Education and Opera Films: a Selective Catalogue (Paris, 1962), K. Blaukopf's Musik in TV (Teufen, 1965) and 50 Jahre Musik im Hörfunk, edited by K. Blaukopf, S. Goslich and W. Scheib (Vienna, 1973), as well as a monthly trade magazine, Music in the Media. It has set up databases on specific topics, including Mozart (1991) and Rossini (1992).

International Music Company.

American firm of music publishers. It was founded in New York in 1941 by A.W. Haendler (c1894–1979). The firm publishes solo instrumental music, chamber and vocal music and miniature scores of works in the standard repertory. After Haendler’s death Frank Marx, executor of his estate, became head of the company, which is a subsidiary of Bourne Company.

FRANCES BARULICH

International Music Council

(Fr. Conseil International de la Musique).

A non-governmental organization created in 1949 by UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) to serve musical creation, performance, education, training, research and promotion on an international scale. This aim is pursued through the exchange of music and musicians between countries and continents, all cultures being regarded as equal; the use of the audio-visual media for the dissemination of music and for musical experimentation; close cooperation with other professional organizations and with the music industry; and the support of international agreements defending the rights of creative and interpretative musicians. Like UNESCO, the International Music Council is based in Paris. It was founded with the cooperation of four leading musical organizations: the International Society for Contemporary Music, the Fédération Internationale des Jeunesses Musicales, the International Musicological Society and the International Folk Music Council (now the International Council for Traditional Music). These were represented on the founding committee by Edward Clark, Marcel Cuvelier, P.-M. Masson and Maud Karpeles respectively; other committee members were Roland-Manuel (president), Harrison Kerr, Albert di Clementi, Goffredo Petrassi, Charles Seeger and C.S. Smith. Subsequent presidents have included Steuart Wilson (1954–7), Vladimir Fédorov (1965–6), Yehudi Menuhin (1969–75), Sir Frank Callaway (1980–81), Barry S. Brook (1982–3) and Jordi Roch (1994–7).

The council has 70 national committees throughout the world and has founded a number of subsidiary organizations, including the International association of music libraries (1951), the International Society for Music Education (1953) and the International Institute for Music, Dance and Theatre in the Audio-Visual Media (1969). The International Rostrum of Composers, formed in 1954, is a forum at which representatives of broadcasting organizations meet to exchange contemporary music. In 1954 there were 16 broadcasts of the works selected; by 1995 this had increased to 600, primarily in Europe, the Americas and Australasia. A similar function is fulfilled for traditional music by the Asian Music Forum (1969), the African Music Forum (1970), the Arab Music Rostrum and the Rostrum for Latin American and Caribbean Music. The International Rostrum of Young Interpreters (1969) promotes outstanding performers, and the International Rostrum for Electroacoustic Music serves composers working in this field. Several independent organizations are affiliated to the International Music Council, including the International Federation of Musicians, the International Federation for Choral Music and the International Council of Organizations of Festivals of Folklore and Traditional Arts.

A series of congresses and symposia was held biennially from 1958; concentrating at first on general questions of musical culture the congresses shifted their emphasis during the 1970s to non-Western music. In 1975 a series concerned with the ‘preservation and presentation of traditional music and dance’ was initiated. A quarterly journal the World of Music, also concentrating on traditional music, was first published in 1967 in collaboration with the International Institute for Comparative Music Studies and Documentation (renamed the International Institute for Traditional Music); since 1970 several books have been published in the series Music and Communication. Music and Tomorrow’s Public, a study published in 1975 in cooperation with the International Federation of Producers of Phonograms and Videograms, set out the future plans of the council. Nearly 200 recordings of traditional music have been produced in collaboration with the International Institute for Comparative Music Studies and Documentation in Berlin and Venice; they form the UNESCO Collection of Traditional Music. In the 1990s the organization began to prepare The Universe of Music: a History, a 12-volume worldwide history of music written by authors native to each region.

The Musicians’ International Mutual Aid Fund was formed in 1974 to mark the 25th anniversary of the foundation of the council; it aims to contribute to the quality of musical life and the well-being of the musical profession in all cultures. Encouraging and coordinating the voluntary efforts of musicians, the fund organizes concerts and other events with the cooperation of broadcasting and recording organizations, awards study grants to young musicians and assists international tours by young performers, thus contributing to the fulfilment of the council’s general aims. As with other areas of the council’s activities the fund has particularly benefited musicians outside the Western tradition. The organization's general assemblies, held every two years in a different country, are always accompanied by a congress dealing with a specific topic.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

H. Sass: International Music Council 1949–1991 (Bonn, 1991)

International Musicological Society [IMS]

(Fr. Société Internationale de Musicologie, SIM; Ger. Internationale Gesellschaft für Musikwissenschaft, IGM).

Society founded in 1927 to replace the Internationale Musikgesellschaft (International Musical Society), which had been founded by Oskar Fleischer and Max Seiffert in 1899 with the aim of promoting international musical contacts, but which had ceased to exist with the outbreak of World War I in 1914. Musicologists met internationally for the first time after the war in Basle in 1924, and when Henry Prunières, speaking in 1927 at the Beethoven centenary celebrations in Vienna, suggested that the International Musical Society be reconstituted, the idea was enthusiastically received. In September 1927 a committee, chaired by Guido Adler, met in Basle and the International Musicological Society was founded.

Basle was chosen as the headquarters of the IMS. In addition to the general assembly and council, a secretariat was established to promote the aims of the society; its functions included the arrangement of international contacts between musicologists and the establishment of a bibliographical centre. Members were informed of the society's activities through a quarterly bulletin. A year after its foundation the society already had 181 members from 23 countries. In its early years the society maintained close relations with musical performance and composition, and the first international congress (Liège, 1930) was held in collaboration with the International Society for Contemporary Music. During World War II international cooperation almost ceased; however, the society was not dissolved, and its journal, Acta musicologica (AcM), which had replaced the bulletin in 1931, was still published.

In 1949 the society held a further international musicological congress in Basle, on the initiative of Ernst Mohr, who later became General Secretary (1952–72). The IMS also joined the International Council for Philosophy and Humanistic Studies, a new organization affiliated to UNESCO. Congresses were subsequently held every three years up to 1967 and every five years thereafter, bringing together individual members, institutes, libraries and associations. A report of each, with the exception of the sixth, has been published. The presidents of the IMS have been Peter Wagner, Dent, Jeppesen, Smijers, Lang, Blume, Grout, Fédorov, von Fischer, Reeser, Finscher, Mahling and Sadie.

The IMS journal Acta musicologica, published twice a year, contains reports and other contributions from all fields of musicological research. As the society expanded (it had 1200 members from 51 countries in 1994), the bibliographical duties originally assigned to the secretariat became unmanageable and were transferred to a group of long-term publications, produced in collaboration with the International Association of Music Libraries: Répertoire International des Sources Musicales (RISM), started in 1952 in order to catalogue the musical heritage that had survived the war; Répertoire International de Littérature Musicale (RILM), a computerized index of musicological literature published since 1967; Répertoire international d'iconographie musicale (RIdIM), which was started in 1971 as an inventory of musical iconographical sources and also publishes the RIdIM newsletter and sponsors the yearbook Imago Musicae; and Répertoire International de la Presse Musicale (RIPM), which began its activities in 1983 and publishes inventories of music journals. The series Documenta musicologica publishes musical and music theory sources in facsimile. Catalogus musicus publishes catalogues of collections, musicians' libraries and publishers.

RUDOLF HÄUSLER/R

International Music Publications [IMP].

English firm of music publishers based in Woodford Green, Essex. It was formed in 1982 through a merger of the printed music operations of EMI Music Publishing and Chappell, and subsequently passed into the ownership of the Warner Music Group. In addition to being the largest publisher of popular and rock music in Britain, it also has an extensive educational catalogue, which includes materials in compact disc, video and multimedia formats. Besides its own publishing programme, it serves as the printed music channel for many major recording and publishing companies, and acts as the British distributor for several foreign catalogues, including Disney and Suzuki publications. The firm also maintains an archive service for some 250,000 out-of-print titles from the mid-19th century onwards, based primarily on the old Chappell catalogue.

PETER WARD JONES

International Repertory of Musical Iconography.

See Répertoire International d’Iconographie Musicale.

International Repertory of Music Literature.

See Répertoire International de Littérature Musicale.

International Society for Contemporary Music

[ISCM] (Fr. Société Internationale pour la Musique Contemporaine, SIMC; Ger. Internationale Gesellschaft für Neue Musik, IGNM).

Society founded on 11 August 1922 after the Internationale Kammermusikaufführungen Salzburg 1922, a festival of modern chamber music held as part of the Salzburg Festival and organized by Rudolf Réti with the assistance of Egon Wellesz, Paul Stefan and some young Viennese composers. Over 20 composers were present, including Webern, Hindemith, Bartók, Kodály, Honegger and Milhaud. The participants were determined that this, the first international music festival after World War I, should be the first of a regular series of events enabling contemporary composers to maintain the contacts made in Salzburg and meet annually to become acquainted with recent musical events and trends. On its foundation the ISCM outlined its purpose as being a means of breaking down national barriers and personal interests and publicizing and promoting contemporary music ‘regardless of aesthetic trends or the nationality, race, religion or political views of the composer’. These aims were to be pursued through annual music festivals in different countries. The first (1923) was restricted to chamber music; in 1924 and 1925 separate chamber and orchestral festivals were held, and from 1926 the festivals included various genres. The society's activities were also promoted by the autonomous national sections, numbering 46 in 1995. Each country is represented by one section (since 1992, also by additional associate memberships), although before World War II the USSR, Sweden, Spain and Czechoslovakia each had two sub-sections, for geographical or cultural reasons, and in 1983 Hong Kong was accepted as an independent sub-section of Britain.

The society's original headquarters were in London, where the first constitution was worked out by a conference in January 1923, under the presidency of E.J. Dent (1922–38, 1945–7). From its inception the ISCM was plagued by internal disputes concerning its purpose and operation. There was conflict between those countries that felt that it should promote avant-garde music (principally Germany before 1933 and Austria and Czechoslovakia before 1938) and those that considered any contemporary music to be worthy of the society's interest (principally France, Great Britain and the USA). Despite the internal weaknesses of the society, the pre-war ISCM festivals were most significant as forums for leading contemporary composers, providing the occasions for important premières, including those of Webern's Five Pieces op.10 (1923), Berg's Violin Concerto (Barcelona, 1936) and Webern's Das Augenlicht op.26 (London, 1938), as well as performances of music by Hindemith, Schoenberg, Stravinsky and others.

A threat to the society's existence was posed by Nazi Germany, which regarded the ISCM as ‘culturally bolshevist’ and part of an international anti-German conspiracy. In 1934 it founded a counter-organization, the Permanent Council for the International Cooperation of Composers, of which Richard Strauss was the first president. The German section of the ISCM had been banned in 1933; bans were enforced, from between 1938 and 1941, on the sections in the occupied countries; those in Italy (1939) and Japan (1941) were also banned.

After World War II the society became active once more. One of the most important aspects of the ISCM was the contact it afforded between East and West during the cold war. From the mid-1980s more countries from Latin America and East Asia joined the society, and after the fall of communism more countries from East Europe. In 1988 the first East Asian festival was held in Hong Kong, and in 1993 the first Latin American festival took place in Mexico City. Among its most important postwar premières have been Boulez's Le marteau sans maître (Baden-Baden, 1955) and Stockhausen's Kontakte (1960). In 1949 a journal, Music Today, was published, although it did not continue beyond the first issue. Since 1991 a journal, the World New Music Magazine, has been published in Cologne. The work of the ISCM was reduced in significance by the development of new means of producing and reproducing music, and as a source of musical impetus the ISCM was superseded by the international summer courses in Darmstadt, by specialized new music ensembles, festivals and events and by the growth of broadcasting. Thus ‘the growth and spread of serial music and other modern trends in many countries had taken place outside, even in opposition to, the society’ (Dibelius, 1966, p.234).

In 1971 the society's statutes were revised in such a way as to enable it to resume some of its former importance, taking advantage of its independence from commercial or political factors, its internationalism, and the equality of its national groups – from which the smaller nations in particular may benefit (as may be seen in the stimulus the ISCM has provided to the development of new music in Sweden, the Netherlands, Switzerland, Finland and Norway). In 1975 the society's festival programme was broadened to embrace popular genres, in 1992 its statutes were again revised to enable countries to become associate members and in 1997 the rules were changed to enable the organisation of festivals without an international jury.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

A. Weissmann: Die Entgötterung der Musik (Stuttgart, 1928, 2/1930; Eng. trans., 1930)

N. Slonimsky: Music since 1900 (New York, 1937, 5/1994)

E. Wellesz: ‘E.J. Dent and the International Society for Contemporary Music’, MR, vii (1946), 205–8

E.J. Dent: ‘Looking Backward’, Music Today, i (1949), 6–22

R. Réti: ‘Die Entstehung der IGNM’, ÖMz, xii (1957), 113–16

U. Dibelius: Moderne Musik 1945–1965 (Munich, 1966, 3/1984–8)

E. Wellesz: ‘Begegnungen in Wien’, Melos, xxxiii (1966), 6–12

H. Åstrand: ‘Sveriges stämma i ISCM – detta musikens FN’ [Sweden's voice in the ISCM, the United Nations of music], Svenska musikperspektiv, ed. G. Hilleström (Stockholm, 1971), 404–15

A. Haefeli: ‘Musikfest oder internationale Information: zur Geschichte der IGNM’, Neue Musik und Festival: Graz 1972, 19–35

U. Dibelius: ‘Verjüngungsprobleme einer Fünfzigjährigen: zur aktuellen Situation der IGNM’, Hi-Fi-Stereo-Phonie, xii (1973), 32–3

W. Brennecke: ‘50 Jahre IGNM – was nun?’, Neue Musik in der Bundesrepublik Deutschland, xv–xvi (1974), 24–6

A. Haefeli: ‘Die Rolle der deutschen Sektion innerhalb der IGNM’, ibid., 10–23

A. Haefeli: Die Zürcher Musikfeste der IGNM 1929 und 1957 (Zürich, 1977)

A. Haefeli: ‘Hanns Eisler und die Internationale Gesellschaft für Neue Musik (IGNM)’, BMw, xxiii (1981), 104–13

A. Haefeli: Die Internationale Gesellschaft für Neue Musik (IGNM): ihre Geschichte von 1922 bis zur Gegenwart (Zürich, 1982)

World New Music Magazine (1991–)

A. Haefeli: ‘Die Emigration und ihr Einfluss auf die Profilierung und Politisierung der IGNM’, Musik in der Emigration: Essen 1992, 136–52

ANTON HAEFELI/REINHARD OEHLSCHLÄGEL

International Society for Jazz Research

(Ger. Internationale Gesellschaft für Jazzforschung).

Organization based in Graz. It was founded in 1969 by Friedrich Körner and Dieter Glawischnig. It is a society of musicologists, jazz scholars, anthropologists, teachers, performers and others interested in jazz, and its aim is the systematic exploration of jazz through musicological methods. Between 1969 and 1995, 27 volumes of the yearbook Jazzforschung and ten books in the series Beiträge zur Jazzforschung were published, and four international congresses were held in Austria and Germany. In 1995 there were about 300 members.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

E. Brixel and F. Kerschbaumer: ‘Zweite Internationale jazzwissenschaftliche Tagung in Strobl am Wolfgangsee, 17 bis 22 April 1972’, Jazzforschung, iii–iv (1971–2), 240–41

E. Kolleritch: Jazz in Graz: Von den Anfängen nach dem Zweiten Weltkrieg bis zu seiner akademischen Etablierung (Graz, 1995)

International Society for Music Education [ISME].

Society founded in Brussels in 1953 under the auspices of UNESCO by the International Music Council. Its purpose is to stimulate music education throughout the world, both as an integral part of general education and community life and as a profession. It implements its aims by organizing international conferences and seminars, notably a biennial world conference; promoting the international liaison of music educationists at all levels; cooperating with other international music organizations in musicology, performance, composition, folk music, youth music and music librarianship; cooperating with regional and national music education organizations, many of which operate as national sections of the ISME; cooperating with organizations representing other branches of education; and developing research in music education. The society's honorary presidents have included Kodály and Kabalevsky, and presidents have included Egon Kraus, Yasuharu Takahagi, Sir Frank Callaway and Lupwishi Mbuyamba. Members include 40 national music educators' organizations, 50 music education institutions and 1000 individual members. From 1960 to 1972 it published the International Music Educator twice annually, which was subsequently replaced by the ISME Yearbook. The society's aims have been influenced by the spread of recorded and broadcast music, which has enabled greater emphasis to be placed on adult education; it has acted as an advisory body to UNESCO and has contributed to the worldwide survey Music and Tomorrow's Public (ed. E. Helm, Paris, 1975). The British section of the ISME is the Schools Music Association.

International Society of Organbuilders.

A society formed in 1957 by a group of Dutch organ builders in Amsterdam and formally constituted at a conference in Strasbourg in 1960. Membership (about 270 in 1995) is open to firms making organs or organ parts, and the society aims to advance the profession by discussions and exchange of information, and the exchange of students and apprentices. Between 1969 and 1990 it published a review, ISO Information, in English, French and German, with about 1600 subscribers; since then it has published the more general ISO News and also an ISO Yearbook. Congresses are held every two years, each concentrating on the characteristics of organ building in the host country, as well as seminars and workshops. The society's presidents have been Henry Willis (iii and iv), D.A. Flentrop, Caspar Glattez-Götz and (from 1994) Mark Venning.

Interpretation.

A term used in musical parlance with reference to the understanding of a piece of music. It has often been used primarily to signify the way in which notation should be interpreted, as in Arnold Dolmetsch's The Interpretation of the Music of the XVII and XVIII Centuries (London, 1915), and the more recent, similarly titled books on the same topics by Donington and Dart (and also the discussion in recent editions of this dictionary), that is, the study of Performing practice. The present article considers the more general use of the term, in particular the understanding of a piece of music made manifest in the way in which it is performed. (For discussion of the understanding of music by writers, critics or audiences, see Reception).

This concept of interpretation takes as starting-point the relevant definition in the Oxford English Dictionary, ‘the rendering of a musical composition, according to one's conception of the author's idea’. It however may, and normally does, extend beyond the interpreter's conception of the author's idea and represent, rather, the interpreter's own idea of the music, possibly embodying understandings of what is taken to be latent in the score but also his or her own view of the best way of conveying that idea, in a particular performance, to the audience in the circumstances of that performance.

The notion of interpretation is relatively recent, and has acquired increasing importance because of the possibilities of comparison made available through recordings. It had no currency before 1800, largely because of its dependence on the idea of a canonical repertory that is performed by different artists; no such repertory developed until the early years of the 19th century, the period of travelling artists, large commercial centres with concert halls and opera houses, and the aesthetic changes that led to the rise in the status of the composer and in turn to the idea of ‘great works’ that needed to be explained, elucidated and ‘understood’. It is not a coincidence that the rise of the conductor, as the person who would ‘interpret’ the piece of music, by conveying his understanding of it at each performance, took place at exactly this time. The idea of personal interpretation was especially fostered and encouraged by Richard Wagner and his view of Beethoven's music (see Conducting and Performance).

For music in the Romantic tradition, or music performed in the light of that tradition, the term ‘interpretation’ is appropriate, since one common use and meaning of the term applies when something is disclosed or revealed. Moreover, musical performance characterizes the work it is of, even if in a purely musical way, through the very process by which it realizes that same work: the work is given life through its performances and is usually accessed only through them. The listener's perception and understanding of the work is thus inevitably affected by the manner in which a piece is presented by its performer. To the extent that the listener's contact with the work is mediated through those acts of the performer by which the piece is embodied, it is appropriate to regard performances as interpretations of the works they are of. An interpretation presents a vision of a work, a perspective on it, through the manner in which it is played.

The performing instructions added to and encoded in a score – along with unuttered ones that are understood, according to the performing conventions of the composer's time and provenance – carry the composer's instructions to the executant (see Tempo and expression marks). These always under-determine the full sonic detail of any actual performance, allowing the possibility of different renditions that are nevertheless equally faithful to the work. The performer inevitably must make many decisions concerning how the work is to be played. These apply not only at the micro level (affecting subtleties of attack, intonation, phrasing, dynamics, note-lengths and the like) but also at the macro level (concerning the overall articulation of the form, the expressive pattern etc.). The performer's interpretation is generated through such choices.

An interpretation is distinct from the performance in which it is embodied. Whereas a given performance is a unique event that might be reproduced (as by a recording) but cannot be re-enacted, an interpretation results from a series of decisions that can be repeated on different occasions of performance: different performances by a given player or conductor might embody the same or a very similar interpretation.

Most extended works lend themselves to a multiplicity of revealing, aesthetically rewarding interpretations; indeed, works are valued for their fecundity and flexibility in this regard. No single interpretation can be regarded as exclusively ‘correct’, although some may be reckoned incorrect, in some senses, if they manifestly defy the composer's instructions or understandings: this raises the issue of the propriety of deliberately (or otherwise) setting aside the composer's performing instructions for the sake of an interpretation sought by the performer. The composer's instructions do however leave many crucial decisions to the performer, which is why performing is recognized as a vital and creative act. Performances very different in sound may be fully and equally accurate in instancing the work they are of, and each of these might express a different interpretation of the piece in question. Interpretations are often compared, and one may be judged superior to another because it provides a clearer, more interesting vision of the work.

Such terms as ‘vision’, ‘account’ or ‘perspective’, as applied to performance interpretations, may however be misleading. While a description or depiction is distinct from its topic, an interpretation of a musical work is not entirely separate from the work it is of, because the work is embodied and instanced within the interpretation. Further, such an interpretation has no propositional content (or none that departs from any verbal text that the work might have); the interpretation does not say anything about the work. It reveals it in a particular, purely musical light, but without describing it.

Critical interpretations – interpretations not realized in performance but written or spoken, whether by a non-performer or the verbalization of a performer of his or her understanding of a work – are distinct from performance interpretations. The latter may be informed, inspired or influenced by the former; and the former might be suggested by the latter. There is however no logically tight relation between the two; the one may or may not be compatible or consistent with the other: that is, a particular performance interpretation does not imply or entail any particular critical interpretation, or vice-versa.

It is difficult to determine the distinction between interpretation and licence in performance. It cannot be maintained that a performer is interpreting X's work if it is not actually X's work that he or she is playing; and if the performer does not follow the composer's work-determinative directions, reading them and the musical score in the light of the conventions, styles and practices they presuppose, it may be argued that the identity and status of the performance is called into question. While it may, then, be argued that ignoring the composer's work-determinative instructions and understandings is not an interpretative option to be ranged alongside the performer's usual freedoms, it would clearly be absurd to exclude, say, the performance on the piano of works written for the harpsichord by Bach, or even arrangements of works for forces different from those intended by the composer, from the realm of interpretation: transcriptions are different from the works they are of, and a performance of a Bach work arranged by Busoni becomes an interpretation of Busoni that incorporates Busoni's interpretation of Bach and inevitably also something of the performer's own interpretation of Bach. The act of interpretation is then widened, involving not merely the interpretation of the composer's vision of the work but more complex layers, including those of intermediaries and historical traditions of performance and instruments, as well as the presuppositions of the performer and his or her audience (which are associated with their period and the circumstances of their musical experience).

See also Philosophy of music, §IV.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

R.A. Sharpe: ‘Type, Token, Interpretation and Performance’, Mind, lxxxviii (1979), 437–40

T.C. Mark: ‘Philosophy of Piano Playing: Reflections on the Concept of Performance’, Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, xl (1981), 299–324

D. Callen: ‘Making Music Live’, Theoria, xlviii (1982), 139–68

S. Davies: ‘Authenticity in Musical Performance’, British Journal of Aesthetics, xxvii (1987), 39–50

J. Levinson: ‘Evaluating Musical Performance’, Journal of Aesthetic Education, xxi/1 (1987), 75–88

M. Krausz, ed.: The Interpretation of Music: Philosophical Essays (Oxford, 1993) [incl. G. Hermerén, ‘The Full-Voic'd Quire: Types of Interpretation of Music’, 9–31; J. Levinson, ‘Performative vs. Critical Interpretations in Music’, 33–60]

P. Thom: For an Audience: a Philosophy of the Performing Arts (Philadelphia, 1993)

P. Kivy: Authenticities: Philosophical Reflections on Musical Performance (Ithaca, NY, 1995)

STEPHEN DAVIES, STANLEY SADIE

Interrupted cadence [deceptive cadence; false cadence; false close]

(Fr. cadence rompue, cadence évitée, cadence trompeuse; Ger. Trugschluss; It. inganno).

A Cadence in which the dominant chord resolves not on to the expected tonic but on to some other chord.

Interruption

(Ger. Unterbrechung).

In Schenkerian analysis (seeAnalysis, §II, 4) the principal method of Prolongation applied to the fundamental structure (Ursatz) of a tonal piece, achieved by ‘interrupting’ its progress after the first arrival on the dominant; this interruption requires a return to the starting-point of the fundamental structure. The symbol for an interruption is a double stroke on the same line as the capped arabic numerals representing the melodic scale steps of the fundamental line (Urlinie), as shown in ex.1. The dominant that immediately precedes the interruption is called theDivider.

When the fundamental line encompasses a 3rd (as in ex.1) or a 5th, the interruption occurs after the arrival on 2. When it covers a full octave, however, a true interruption is impossible: for if it were to take place after either 7 or 2, the return to the octave would create the impression of an upper or lower neighbour (in C major, C–B–C or C–D–C); and if it occurred after 5, the subsequent return to 8 would produce consecutive octaves. It is possible, however, to divide the fundamental line at 5 by having the bass return to the tonic while the 5 is tied over (ex.2); this is the nearest equivalent to interruption when the fundamental line encompasses an octave (Schenker: Der freie Satz, 1935, §§76 and 100).

As a method of prolongation, interruption is of utmost significance for musical form, providing the structural basis of two-part song form and, by extension, of sonata form: the return to the starting-point of the fundamental structure corresponds to the beginning of the recapitulation in the musical foreground.

WILLIAM DRABKIN

Intertextuality.

A term, coined by the literary critic Julia Kristeva, that encompasses the entire range of relationships between texts, from direct borrowing, reworking or quotation to shared styles, conventions or language. It posits a view of texts, not as independent entities or forms of communication, but as responses to other texts, embedded in a perpetual stream of interrelated texts. Applied to music since the 1980s, it is a broader term than Borrowing, which typically focusses on the use in one piece of one or more elements taken from another. Thus intertextuality embraces the use of a general style or language as well as of a borrowed melody. Moreover, while borrowing is a monodirectional relationship in which one piece borrows from another, intertextuality encompasses mutual relationships, as when two pieces draw on the same convention but neither composer was aware of the other piece.

Musical scholars have used the term in two main contexts: to avoid making historical claims where evidence is uncertain, and to facilitate discussions of musical meaning, especially from a semiotic perspective (see Semiotics, semiology). To speak of ‘borrowing’ is to claim that a composer knew of a certain work and took one or more elements from it in fashioning a new one. When chronology is unclear, the available evidence may not support such a claim. Thus scholars of the isorhythmic motet have used ‘intertextuality’ to describe similarities in isorhythmic structure that are clearly not accidental, when it cannot be established which motet was written first, or whether there may have been another work, now lost, on which both motets were modelled. Studies of the Renaissance mass and Magnificat have used the term to avoid the specific claims implied by ‘parody’, ‘borrowing’ and imitatio. In studies of more recent music, ‘intertextuality’ has been used for its breadth and for the connections it suggests to modern literary theory in general. By embracing everything from direct quotation to stylistic allusion and use of conventions, an intertextual approach can address the entire range of ways a musical work refers to or draws on other musical works. Interpreting those relationships as signs within a semiotic theory can illuminate the work's meaning, as can a study of the associations the other music may carry for the listener.

The related terms ‘intertexturality’ (Hertz, 1993) and ‘intermusicality’ (Monson, 1996) have been proposed to focus on the characteristics of music as a sounding art and to avoid the implications of the word ‘textual’ that music can be reduced to a text that must be read. The former allows discussion of relationships between music, the other arts and the realm of ideas, and the latter focusses on music as improvised, performed and heard.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

J. Kristeva: Sēmeiōtikē: recherches pour une sémanalyse (Paris, 1969)

V. Karbusicky: ‘Intertextualität in der Musik’, Dialog der Texte: Hamburg 1982, ed. W. Schmid (Vienna, 1983), 361–98

R. Hatten: ‘The Place of Intertextuality in Music Studies’, American Journal of Semiotics, iii/4 (1985), 69–82

M. Everist: ‘The Refrain Cento: Myth or Motet?’, JRMA, cxiv (1989), 164–88

R.C. Wegman: ‘Another “Imitation” of Busnoys' Missa L'homme armé – and some Observations on Imitatio in Renaissance Music’, JRMA, cxiv (1989), 189–202

K. Korsyn: ‘Towards a New Poetics of Musical Influence’, MAn, x (1991), 3–72

J.M. Allsen: Style and Intertextuality in the Isorhythmic Motet 1400–1440 (diss., U. of Wisconsin, 1992)

J.M. Allsen: ‘Intertextuality and Compositional Process in two Cantilena Motets by Hugo de Lantins’, JM, xi (1993), 174–202

C. Clark: ‘Intertextual Play and Haydn's La fedeltà premiata’, CMc, no.51 (1993), 59–81

D.M. Hertz: Angels of Reality: Emersonian Unfoldings in Wright, Stevens, and Ives (Carbondale and Edwardsville, IL, 1993)

D. Crook: Orlando di Lasso's Imitation Magnificats for Counter-Reformation Munich (Princeton, 1994)

‘Intertextualität’, Musiktheorie, ix/3 (1994) [articles by M. Wiegandt, M. Flothuis, T. Schäfer and Y. Tokumaru]

L.B. Robinson: Mahler and Postmodern Intertextuality (diss., Yale U., 1994)

K. Korsyn: ‘Directional Tonality and Intertextuality: Brahms's Quintet op. 88 and Chopin's Ballade op. 38’, The Second Practice of Nineteenth-Century Tonality, ed. W. Kinderman and H. Krebs (Lincoln, NE, 1996), 45–83

I. Monson: Saying Something: Jazz Improvisation and Interaction (Chicago, 1996)

A. Houtchens and J.P. Stout: ‘“Scarce Heard amidst the Guns Below”: Intertextuality and Meaning in Charles Ives's War Songs’, JM, xv (1997), 66–97

For further bibliography see Borrowing.

J. PETER BURKHOLDER

Interval.

The distance between two pitches. The term ‘harmonic interval’ (as opposed to ‘melodic interval’) indicates that they are thought of as being heard simultaneously. Intervals are traditionally labelled according to the number of steps they embrace in a diatonic scale, counted inclusively: thus from C up to D or down to B is a 2nd, another step up to E or down to A makes a 3rd, etc. These names are applied in non-diatonic contexts so that an interval embracing five degrees of a pentatonic scale is still called an octave (from Lat. octavus: ‘eighth’) and an interval in 12-note music embracing six degrees of the chromatic scale is called a 4th. Qualifying adjectives as shown in ex.1 lend precision to this terminology but the terms ‘major’ and ‘minor’ (or ‘greater’ and ‘lesser’) are also sometimes used to distinguish slightly different forms of semitone, whole tone etc. Some music employs intervals not included in ex.1 because they are not represented faithfully by standard Western notation; 3rds intermediate in size between major and minor, for instance, are characteristic of scales used in some varieties of European folk music, in the art music of several Islamic countries etc.; melodically such an interval is likely to consist of a whole tone plus a step intermediate in size between a whole tone and semitone.

Apart from their musical context many intervals can be identified by their correspondence to a simple ratio of sound wavelengths or frequencies. (Before the development of wave theory in the 18th century, monochord string lengths provided, in effect, a means of discovering wavelength ratios.) An octave is identified by the ratio 2:1, meaning that the frequency of the upper note is twice that of the lower note. Notes an octave apart tend to sound so identical that they are said to belong to the same ‘pitch class’: they bear the same name (e.g. C, B, G); two intervals which together make up an octave are said to be ‘inversions’ of each other (for example, the minor 3rd is the inversion of the major 6th); and intervals an octave larger than those in ex.1 are considered their ‘compounds’.

The uniquely important role played by the octave interval can be partly explained by recalling that a single musical note usually contains a harmonically related set of frequency components. The note A sung by a bass, for example, will contain components with frequencies 110, 220, 330, 440, 550, 660 Hz etc. If the singer leaps to a, an octave higher, the new note will have components 220, 440, 660 Hz etc.; the frequency of each component will have doubled. It can be seen that the jump of an octave has in a sense introduced nothing fundamentally new: each component of the new note was already present in the original note.

When two notes an octave apart are sounded simultaneously, the harmonic components of the upper note coincide with the even harmonic components of the lower note, and the two sounds can blend to give the perception of a single pitch. If the frequency ratio is not exactly 2:1, the coincidence will be imperfect, giving rise to the amplitude fluctuations described as Beats. For example, if the octave A–a is ‘stretched’ to a ratio of 2·01:1, keeping the frequency of the first component of A at 110 Hz, the frequency of the first component of a will become 221·1 Hz. This will beat against the second component of A at 220 Hz, giving an audible amplitude fluctuation with a frequency of 1·1 Hz (just over one beat per second). The elimination of beats is used by organ tuners to establish true octaves.

Although medieval theorists emphasized the perfection of small whole number ratios, it is not in fact the case that musical octaves always correspond to an exact 2:1 ratio. Well-tuned pianos usually exhibit a degree of octave stretching, arising at least in part from the fact that the frequency components of a piano note are not strictly harmonic (see Inharmonicity). It is also well established that when asked to judge octave intervals in a melodic rather than a harmonic context, musicians tend to favour a frequency ratio slightly greater than 2:1.

The 19th-century acoustician Helmholtz explained the relative dissonance of musical intervals in terms of the extent of the beating between the two corresponding sets of harmonic frequency components when the notes are heard simultaneously. If there are many coincident frequency components the beating is reduced and the interval sounds relatively smooth. Thus a perfect fifth, with a frequency ratio of 3:2, is a smooth interval with low beating since the third harmonic of the lower note coincides with the second harmonic of the upper; the perfect fourth, with a frequency ratio of 4:3, is also relatively smooth since the fourth harmonic of the lower note coincides with the third harmonic of the upper note.

While the ratios 3:2 and 4:3 have been regarded almost unanimously as the ideal paradigms of a perfect 5th and 4th, there is no single ideal for major or minor 2nds, which in Western music derive their identity melodically far more than harmonically. Medieval theorists who favoured exclusively 9:8 (3:2 ÷ 4:3) for the whole tone were obliged to uphold 81:64 (9:8 x 9:8) and 27:16 as the ratios of a proper major 3rd (‘ditonus’) and 6th, and it was only in the 16th century that the simpler 5:4 and 5:3 ratios became the standard European theoretical ideal. The change corresponded, albeit belatedly, to an earlier change in the practical status of 3rds and 6ths as consonant intervals (see Harmony and Consonance, §1). Elaborate codifications of intervals have been developed on the basis of ratios involving numbers even larger than 81 or prime numbers larger than 5, a vulnerable aspect of such theories often being their relation to practice. The ‘blue 7th’ of jazz, however, sometimes thought of as representing the ratio 7:4, is indeed characteristically produced on the cornet or trumpet by overblowing to the seventh natural note. And no doubt the harmonic distinction between 9:8 and 10:9 may be featured in certain kinds of music, such as in India, in which the scale is set out against the background of a drone.

The conventional scientific unit of measure for intervals, devised by A.J. Ellis in about 1880, is derived by dividing the 2:1 octave into a theoretical microscale of 1200 cents (100 cents = an equal-tempered semitone). Other such units are the millioctave (1/1000 of an octave) and the savart (named after Félix Savart, 1791–1841, but virtually identical with the ‘eptameride’ – 1/301 of an octave – proposed by Joseph Sauveur in 1701). The number of savarts in an interval of known frequency ratio is equal to 1000 times the logarithm (to the base 10) of the ratio; the number of cents is equal to the logarithm of the ratio multiplied by 1200/log2, or 3986·3. One savart is thus approximately 4 cents.

A tendency to divide the octave, 5th or major 3rd into equal quantities can be discerned in many kinds of music. The slendro and pelog scales of the Indonesian gamelan sometimes approximate to a division of the octave into five or seven equal parts respectively. The ‘neutral 3rds’ alluded to above divide the 5th virtually in half. The mean-tone temperaments of Renaissance and Baroque keyboard music divided the major 3rd into two equal whole tones, while equal temperament divides the octave into equal semitones. To calculate the frequency ratios of such intervals (if they are to be precisely equal) involves roots of prime numbers and hence irrational numbers.

Intervals too small to be used melodically are encountered by theoreticians, experimenters and tuners of instruments with fixed pitches (such as keyboard instruments). The terms ‘diesis’ and ‘subsemitone’ have been used for the difference between enharmonic pairs (such as D–E) in any mean-tone temperament, an interval which, like the diesis used melodically in the ancient Greek enharmonic genre, is distinctly smaller than a semitone. Finer intervals of discrepancy are called ‘commas’ (one traditional rule of thumb being that a comma is one ninth of a whole tone) or ‘schisma’ (the most important schisma amounting theoretically to 1·95 cents, i.e. about one hundredth of a whole tone). Many Hindu theorists have considered the octave to be divided into 22 śruti usually deemed not to be of uniform size but all smaller than a semitone (see India, §III, 1(ii)(a)).

Table 1 gives the size in cents of intervals smaller than a tritone, according to various systems of intonation that have been proposed for Western music since the Middle Ages. In each column the various forms of the interval in question are listed in order of their size, decreasing for 4ths, minor 3rds and diatonic semitones and increasing for major 3rds, whole tones and chromatic semitones. Where a certain form of semitone has been used freely by musicians both diatonically and chromatically, it is listed here as a diatonic semitone. The intervals of each scheme make a single row across the table, except in three cases: just intonation, Pythagorean intonation, and the division of the octave into 53 equal parts. Intervals of just intonation are identified by the ratios 4:3, 5:4, 6:5, 9:8, 10:9, 16:15 and 25:24. In addition to the most characteristic intervals of Pythagorean intonation, the use of the Pythagorean apotomē as a diatonic semitone in some 15th-century keyboard music enabled major and minor 3rds impure by merely a schisma to be employed as well; thus the major 3rd labelled ‘pure–schisma’ occurred in Pythagorean intonation as the compound of eight pure 5ths and 4ths (e.g. E–G derived from the chain E–A–D–G–C–F–B–E–A; see Pythagorean intonation). The 53-part octave division contains very close approximations to justly intoned as well as Pythagorean intervals. In the table, equal temperament is labelled ‘12-part division’; the system most commonly known as mean-tone temperament is labelled ‘1/4-comma temperament’.

TABLE 1

Systems	4ths	Major 3rds	Minor 3rds	Whole tones	Diatonic semitones	Chromatic semitones

								pure +	317.60
								schisma	317.60

								14/53	316.98		8/53	181.13
								octave	316.98		octave	181.13

											pure 10:9	182.40
											pure 10:9	182.40

	19-part		8/19	505.26		6/19	378.95	5/19	315.79		3/19	189.47	2/19	126.32	1/19	63.16
	division		octave	505.26		octave	378.95		315.79		octave	189.47		126.32		63.16		octave					octave					octave

								pure 6.5	315.64
								pure 6.5	315.64

	2/7-comma		pure +	504.19		pure –	383.24	pure –	312.57		10.9 +	191:62	16:15 +	120.95	25:24	70.67
	temperament		2/7 comma	504.19		1/7 comma	383.24		312.57		1/7 comma	191:62		120.95	25:24	70.67			3/7 comma					3/7 comma

						pure –	384.36
						schisma	384.36

						17/53	384.91
						octave	384.91

	1/4-comma		pure +	503.42		pure 5:4	386.31	pure –	310.26		1/2 pure	193.16	16:15	117.11	25:24 +	76.05
	temperament		1/4 comma	503.42		pure 5:4	386.31		310.26			193.16	1/4 comma	117.11		76.05				major 3rd						1/4 comma			1/4 comma

	31-part		13/31	503.23		10/31	387.10	8/31	309.68		5/31	193.55	3/31	116.13	2/31	77.42
	division		octace	503.23		octave	387.10		309.68		octave	193.55		116.13		77.42		octave					octave					octave

													apotomē	113.69
													apotomē	113.69

													5/53	113.21
													octave	113.21

	1/5-comma		pure +	502.35		pure +	390.61	pure –	307.04		9:8 –	195.31	16:15	111.73	25:24 +	83.58
	temperament		1/5 comma	502.35		1/5 comma	390.61		307.04		2/5 comma	195.31	16:15	111.73		83.58			2/5 comma								3/5 comma

	43-part		18/43	502.33		14/43	390.70	11/43	306.98		7/43	195.35	4/43	111.63	3/43	83.72
	dicision		octave	502.33		octave	390.70		306.98		octave	195.35		111.63		83.72		octave					octave					octave

	55-part		23/55	501.82		18/55	392.73	14/55	305.45		9/55	196.36	5/55	109.09	4/55	87.27
	division		octave	501.82		octave	392.73			octave		196.36		109.09		87.27	octave				octave				octave

	1/6-comma		pure +	501.63		pure +	393.48	pure –	304.89		9:8 –	196.74	16:15 –	108.15	25:24 +	88.59
	temperament		1/6 comma	501.63		1/3 comma	393.48		304.89		1/2 comma	196.74		108.15		88.59		1/3 comma					1/6 comma					2/3 comma

													17:16	104.96
													17:16	104.96

	12-part		5/12	500.00		1/3	400.00	1/4	300.00		1/6	200.00	1/12	100.00
	division		octave	500.00		octave	400.00		300.00		octave	200.00		100.00			octave					octave

													18:17	98.96
													18:17	98.96

	53-part		22/53	498.11		18/53	407.55	13/53	294.34		9/53	203.77	4/53	90.57
	division		octave			octave	407.55	octave	294.34			203.77	octave	90.57					octave

	Pythagorean		pure 4:3	498.05		81:64	407.82	32:27	294.13		pure 9:8	203.91	limma	90.22
	intonation		pure 4:3	498.05		81:64	407.82	32:27	294.13		pure 9:8	203.91	limma	90.22

	Septimal					9:7	435.08	7:6	266.87		8:7	231.17
	ratios					9:7	435.08	7:6	266.87		8:7	231.17

BIBLIOGRAPHY

H.L.F. Helmholtz: Die Lehre von den Tonempfindungen (Brunswick, 1863, 4/1877; Eng. trans., 1875, 2/1885/R, as On the Sensations of Tone)

A. Daniélou: Tableau comparatif des intervalles musicaux (Paris, 1958)

H.-P. Reinecke: Cents Frequenz Periode: Umrechnungstabellen für musikalische Akustik und Musikethnologie (Berlin, 1970) [also Eng. text]

F. Lieberman: ‘Working with Cents: a Survey’, EthM, xv (1971), 236–412

R. Plomp: Aspects of Tone Sensation (London, 1976)

E.M. Burns and W.D. Ward: ‘Intervals, Scales and Tuning’, The Psychology of Music, ed. D. Deutsch (New York, 1982, 2/1999), 241–69

MARK LINDLEY/MURRAY CAMPBELL, CLIVE GREATED

Interval class.

An understanding of interval whereby the order of the notes is left unspecified. If the two notes, each of which exemplifies a Pitch class, are ordered (for example, if one comes after the other), the ‘ordered pitch-class interval’ between them is obtained by subtracting the first pitch-class number from the second, modulo 12: this ordered pitch-class interval is 10 from E to C (1 minus 3) but 2 from C to E (3 minus 1). Where the two notes are considered as a pitch-class Set, without order, the 12 possible ordered pitch-class intervals reduce to seven interval classes, usually numbered from 0 to 6, so that each class is denoted by the smallest ordered pitch-class interval that belongs to it. Thus the set {C, E} exemplifies interval class 2.

JOHN ROEDER

Intonation (i).

In plainchant, the initial melodic phrase usually sung solo by the priest or cantor before the other voices enter. In particular, the term is used for the phrases ‘Gloria in excelsis Deo’ and ‘Credo in unum Deum’ at the beginnings of the second and third sections of the Ordinary of the Mass, which are sung by the priest, and to the notes preceding the reciting note in the Gregorian tones. When the latter are used for the psalms, the intonations are sung only for the first verse (which is sung by the cantor alone, the choir joining in after the colon). Subsequent verses omit the intonation and start on the reciting note. For the Magnificat and Benedictus, the intonations are slightly more elaborate and are used in each verse. Nowadays the intonation is often first played quietly on the organ to give the correct pitch to the singer. SeeInflection, and Psalm, §II.

GUY OLDHAM

Intonation (ii).

The treatment of musical pitch in performance. It is usually thought of as the acoustical and artistic accuracy of pitch in singing or playing, but it has an indispensable role in musical expression through the deliberate inflection of pitch to shade and colour melody, to create excitement or tension, or as a means of characterizing a particular repertory or style of performance. In contrasting the intonation of the violin virtuosos Joachim and Sarasate (quite different, as one may hear on recordings), Bernard Shaw (1893) could have been describing the intonational art of much of the world’s music: ‘[T]he modes in which we express ourselves musically …, though in theory series of sounds bearing a fixed pitch relation to one another, are in practice tempered by every musician just as the proportions of the human figure are tempered by a sculptor’. The sounding of a given series of musical intervals is subject to the laws of acoustics, but undergoes also an elusive, more or less subtle shaping (Shaw’s ‘tempering’) not unlike the shaping of precise rhythmic values by tempo rubato.

The perception of intonation is influenced by a number of often inseparable factors besides the most obvious one, the relative pitch of a musical note in context. These include ambient acoustics, loudness and tempo; timbre plays a particularly critical role (see Sethares), but perhaps the strongest influence is the ear’s expectation, which is created by prevailing, culturally determined intonational norms.

The intonational basis of Western art music has undergone two drastic structural shifts since the time of the earliest polyphonic music, the intervals of which were constructed from the pure 5ths (ratio 3:2) and octaves (2:1) of Pythagorean intonation. The admission of the pure major 3rd (5:4), in use in the British Isles by the 13th century, was momentous, and the sensuousness of its sonority should certainly be considered a humanistic attribute (medieval music theory permitted only musical intervals generated from the trinity of the first three integers, proscribing five, which generates the major 3rd, in part because in ancient numerologies – particularly that of Plato – five was the first ‘human’ number). The 5:4 major 3rd opened the way, through a transitional period (roughly the 14th century), for the triadic sonorities of Just intonation and its keyboard surrogate, Mean-tone temperament, which together dominated intonational theory and practice until the mid-19th century. The next shift, which began in the early 18th century, was from mean-tone intervals through various irregular keyboard temperaments to 12-tone equal temperament (see Temperaments, §§6–8); the change was due largely to the increasing dominance of keyboard instruments with their limited number of fixed pitches. In the 20th century intonation was dominated by the conservatory standard of Pythagorean-shaded 12-equal, but after about 1950 became increasingly inclusive and reformist, under the influence of non-Western music and, especially, of the early-music movement, which brought about a return to just and mean-tone intonation, along with a growing understanding that no one intonational basis fits all Western music.

Melodic and harmonic considerations pull intonation in opposite directions: in melody, towards the brightness of Pythagorean tuning, with its small diatonic semitones, high sharps and low flats; and in harmony, towards the just tuning of vertical sonorities, giving wide diatonic semitones, low sharps and high flats in melody. Zarlino (1558, p.163) was one of the few theorists to write about the practical intonation of his time: ‘Voices … seek the perfection of intervals … [and] can tune intervals higher or lower as desired and through this bring to perfection any composition’. Singers accustomed to tuning pure harmonic triads usually make the quite small adjustments that are necessary to reconcile the conflicting intonational demands of 3rd, 5th and octave. These are not mechanical nor even necessarily rational adjustments, but require intonational flexibility (lucidly described by Lloyd, Grove5); the intervals of a Palestrina motet sung in tune cannot be captured in a table of interval ratios. Roger North's observation of 1726 still rings true:

if the sounding part [of music] had bin left to the Voice, which conformes to all truth of accords, whereof the ear is judge, there never had bin any suspicion of such majors, minors, dieses, commas, and I know not what imaginary devisions of tones, as some clumsye mechanick devices called Instruments have given occasion to speculate.

These devices were nevertheless called upon to replicate the intonational beauty of vocal music, as witnessed by the various experiments with vastly expanded keyboards, such as Vicentino's 36-note-per-octave arcicembalo of ?1555 (see Enharmonic keyboard). Even with only 12 to 14 keys per octave keyboard instruments were able to reproduce in mean-tone much of the colour and sonority of just tuning, if not the modulatory range of, say, the vocal works of Marenzio or of Gesualdo, which carry the implications of the intervals of the pure triad to the very limits of the ear's comprehension. Plucked fretted strings (lute, vihuela, guitar, etc.) have always been able to simulate the sonorities of mean-tone intervals quite well, having a certain degree of intonational latitude even with non-adjustable frets. Guitarists regularly make slight tuning adjustments in order to improve the intonation of one key or another.

By 1700 the influence of keyboard instruments was such that their fixed pitches began to replace the voice and the monochord as intonational arbiter. Traditionalists maintained with Quantz (1752: XVII.vi.20) that it was the melodic instruments that gave the intervals ‘in their true ratios’ and recommended that tempered keyboard instruments defer in performance in order to avoid clashes. Others, pre-eminently Marpurg and Sorge, insisted that all intonation should conform to that of the keyboard. Theoretical treatises and methods for instruments and voice show, nonetheless, that just/mean-tone continued through 18th century as the standard of intonation; the main evidence is the persistence of the traditional distinction between the diatonic and chromatic semitones (see Chesnut, 1977; Barbieri, 1991; Haynes, 1991). In contrast to this established practice, a return to Pythagorean intonation began toward 1800, introduced first by virtuoso violinists for the sake of a more brilliant sound.

The rise of musical amateurism among the middle class in the 18th and 19th centuries also had considerable influence on intonational practice. Some violin tutors, including those of Geminiani (1751) and Spohr (1832), suggested that amateur players need not distinguish between the diatonic and chromatic semitones. The traditional modes were consolidated into the simplified system of tonality, with its 24 major and minor keys. The motive force in tonality and its linear formal strategies was above all the dynamic effect of the dominant triad. The edgy, unstable 3rds and 6ths of 12-equal impart energy to the dominant triad through the ‘leading note’ (a tendentious term inappropriate for the sub-semitone in general), which does not lead so much as it is pushed by its irritable harmonic relation to the fifth degree of the scale. What is intonationally useful for the dominant function is, however, a liability for the major tonic triad, in which a semblance of repose is called for. The harshness of bare triads can be mitigated considerably by the addition of 6ths, 7ths, 9ths and so on, creating sonorities that became familiar in 20th-century music, for example in popular and jazz piano styles. The intonational defects of 12-equal can also be concealed by changes of timbre, adjustments of dynamic levels or the use of vibrato. Though known since antiquity, 12-equal became a musical reality only with the commercial success of the metal-frame piano, and with the institution of universal standardized measurement necessitated by 19th-century industrial technology. Many 19th- and 20th-century musicians and theorists, from Helmholtz and Stanford to Hindemith and Kodály, rejected 12-equal as musically deficient, criticizing its inflexibility and lack of intervallic variety, as well as the ‘clouding’ effect of its clashing harmonics and spurious difference-tones; just intervals were the intonational basis of John Curwen’s widely successful Tonic Sol-fa system for teaching choral singing. As absolute values, however, the intervals of 12-equal gained a pre-eminent position in 20th-century music theory; Schoenberg wrote that he ‘always requested tempered intonation’, and defined the semitone as precisely half a tone, ‘without any relationship to harmonic questions’.

Although unrecognized in mainstream music theory, intervals derived from the 7th and 11th harmonics are quite commonly encountered in Western music (see Harmonics, Table 1). It is not unusual for a minor 3rd (most often from the third to the fifth degree of the major scale) to be divided into two roughly equal three-quarter tones, which closely approximate the intervals between the 10th, 11th and 12th harmonics. This division occurs in the Highland bagpipe scale (Bagpipe, §3 (i)), in the vocal and Hardanger fiddle tradition of Norway, in the so-called Alphorn-fa note in some yodelling styles (see Yodel, §3) in some Irish traditional music practice, and in the music of parts of southeastern Europe (see also Blue note). The 7th harmonic (7/4) occurs as a considerably flattened minor 7th added to a major triad in a cappella barbershop-style close harmony and jazz-gospel vocal ensembles. The intonational characteristics of particular performance styles – including those whose music is notated – are always learned and transmitted aurally. The slight mistunings of unisons, whether intended or unavoidable, is often conisdered a musical asset, an enrichment or enlivening of the sound. This added vibrancy, which is a calculated effect in a few organ stops (piffaro, unda maris, for example), occurs naturally in a section of stringed instruments or voices.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Grove5 (‘Just Intonation’; Ll.S. Lloyd)

H. von Helmholtz: Die Lehre von den Tonempfindung (Brunswick, 1863, 6/1913/R: Eng. trans., 1875, as On the Sensations of Tone, 2/1885/R) [Eng. trans. includes addl notes and an appx]

W. Pole: The Philosophy of Music (London, 1879, rev. 6/1924 by H. Hartridge), 76–88, 128–59

C.V. Stanford: Musical Composition (London, 1911/R), 13–18

O. Ševčík: School of Intonation on an Harmonic Basis for Violin: a Short Treatise for Students, op.11 (New York, 1922) [in Eng., Fr., Ger.]

G.B. Shaw: Music in London 1890–94 (London, 1932/R), ii, 276–7

P. Hindemith: A Composer's World (Cambridge, MA, 1952), 81–92

Z. Kodály: Let us Sing Correctly (London, 1952) [Eng. trans. of Énekeljünk tisztán (1941); 107 intonation exercises]

J. Rufer: Das Werk Arnold Schönbergs (Kassel, 1959, 2/1974); Eng. trans. as The Works of Arnold Schoenberg (London, 1962), 143

J. Wilson, ed.: Roger North on Music (London, 1959), 204–5

M. Kolinski: ‘Gestalt Hearing of Musical Intervals’, The Commonwealth of Music, in Honor of Curt Sachs, ed. G. Reese and R. Brandel (New York, 1965), 368–74

M. Vogel: Die Lehre von den Tonbeziehungen (Bonn, 1975; Eng. trans., 1993, as On the Relations of Tone)

A.H. Benade: Fundamentals of Musical Acoustics (New York, 1976/R), 274–7, 296–300

J.H. Chesnut: ‘Mozart's Teaching of Intonation’, JAMS, xxx (1977), 254–71

Ll.S. Lloyd and H. Boyle: Intervals, Scales and Temperaments (London, 2/1978)

J.C. Leuba: A Study of Musical Intonation (Seattle, 1980)

J. Herlinger: ‘Fractional Divisions of the Whole Tone’, Music Theory Spectrum, iii (1981), 74–83

T.H. Podnos: Intonation for Strings, Winds, and Singers (Metuchen, NJ, 1981)

R. Stowell: Violin Technique and Performance Practice in the Late Eighteenth and Early Nineteenth Centuries (Cambridge, 1985), 245–56

D. Leedy: ‘A Question of Intonation’, Journal of the Conductors' Guild, viii (1987), 107–20

P. Barbieri: ‘Violin Intonation: a Historical Survey’, EMc, xix (1991), 69–88

B. Haynes: ‘Beyond Temperament: Non-Keyboard Intonation in the 17th and 18th Centuries’, EMc, xix (1991), 356–81

R. Covey-Crump: ‘Pythagoras at the Forge: Tuning in Early Music’, Companion to Medieval and Renaissance Music, ed. T. Knighton and D. Fallows (London, 1992), 317–26

B. Gratzki: Die reine Intonation im Chorgesang (Bonn, 1993)

M. Lindley and R. Turner-Smith: Mathematical Models of Musical Scales: a New Approach (Bonn, 1993), 134–242

M. Perlman: ‘American Gamelan in the Garden on Eden: Intonation in a Cross-Cultural Encounter’, MQ, lxxviii (1994), 510–55

B. Suchoff, ed.: Béla Bartók Studies in Ethnomusicology (Lincoln, NE, 1997)

W.A. Sethares: Tuning, Timbre, Spectrum, Scale (London, 1998)

DOUGLAS LEEDY (with BRUCE HAYNES)

Intonation (iii).

The German term for the ‘voicing’ of organ pipes, i.e. the final skilful and artistic shaping of the mouth and languid to give a beautiful tone quality. See Voicing, §1.

GUY OLDHAM

Intonazione

(It.: ‘intonation’).

(1) An introductory piece for keyboard that sets the pitch for a following sacred vocal composition. It is distinguished from other such pieces (preludes, entradas etc.) by its close relationship to the Venetian toccata. The term first appeared in Andrea and Giovanni Gabrieli's Intonationi d'organo (1593; ed. in Bradshaw, 1972), which contains eight intonazioni and four toccatas by Andrea Gabrieli and 11 intonations by Giovanni. The intonazioni begin with sustained chords, continue with embellishing passages in both hands, and end with written-out trills starting on the upper note. All 19 are based on ‘ideal’ psalm tones, and both composers arranged their sets in a modal series. Giovanni's intonazioni use all 12 modes (modes 3 and 4 are combined in one composition), and are shorter (five to nine battute) and less brilliant than Andrea's, which use the eight-mode system. Each of Giovanni's is also transposed up or down a 4th or 5th, giving the following scheme: D (transposed to G with one flat); G with one flat (D); E (A with one flat); C (F with one flat); F (B with one flat); G (C with one flat); G (C with one flat); A (D with one flat); A (D with one flat); F with one flat (C); and C (F with one flat). Andrea's eight compositions, because of their greater length (12 to 16 battute) and virtuosity, are not transposed, but have a similar modal plan (except that mode 6 has a flat): D, G with one flat, E, E, C, F with one flat, G, G.

Bernhard Schmid (ii) reprinted Andrea and Giovanni Gabrieli's intonazioni in his Tabulatur Buch of 1607 (though with confused attributions), but subsequent collections of intonazioni were rare. The Venetian style of the Gabrielis was developed in the few surviving later publications. Three anonymous intonationes cromatiche, possibly by Tarquinio Merula, appeared in the manuscript Lynar A2 (D-Bsb; first half of the 17th century; ed. in MMI, i/1, 1961). They range from 25 to 36 battute and are made up of block chords with figurations embellishing chromatic harmonies, dissonances and suspensions. They are, in effect, embellishments of chromatic toccatas, and the last two intonationes have a central imitative passage. The modes used are 3 (E), 4 (A with one flat) and 9 (A).

The 11 introiti and one intonatio by Christian Erbach (ed. in CEKM, xxxvi/5, 1977) are in their expansiveness closer to Andrea Gabrieli's toccatas than to his intonazioni. Erbach's Intonatio secundi toni (G with one flat) is 88 battute long and consists of three continuous sections – a central imitative passage surrounded by virtuoso passages with much motivic exchange; it closely resembles a Venetian toccata. Johann Kindermann's two intonationes in his Harmonia organica of 1645 (ed. R. Walter, Altötting, 1966) are imitative compositions. The one on Gib frid zu unser Zeit begins with an eight-bar introductory pedal point leading into a contrapuntal setting of the melody's first phrase; the other is an imitative psalm tone setting of the Magnificat 4 toni (on A).

Sebastian Scherer published intonation cycles on the eight tones in his Operum musicorum secundum of 1664 (ed. A. Guilmant, Paris, 1907/R), each tone having four separate settings, giving 32 intonations in all. The opening setting usually has chords surrounded by virtuoso passage-work and motivic writing; the second setting is a fugato; the third is like a chromatic toccata with sustained chords, suspensions, dissonances and occasional imitative writing; and the fourth is a fugato with dance-like rhythms. Although described as ‘breves’, the intonations average over 20 battute each. They are arranged according to the old church modes: D, G with one flat, A, E, C, F with one flat, G, G.

A single Intonatio sexti toni by Franz Provintz appears in a manuscript dated 1675–6 (F-Pn Vm⁷1817) and in its ‘rows of diminutions’ shows an Italian influence (Pirro). F.X. Murschhauser included two short intonationes, along with preludes and fugues, in his Prototypon (1703). The first, on D, is made up of broken chords, and the second of virtuoso display passages over a pedal point on G. Each is only ten battute long.

The ease with which organists could improvise such compositions, as well as the ease with which other genres, such as Magnificat fugues could assume the same introductory function (Nolte), account for the small number of intonazioni that have survived. Notated intonazioni were sophisticated realizations of a very simple improvisatory technique – the playing of a few chords to give pitch and mode to the singers. Both Banchieri (L'organo suonarino, 1605) and the anonymous author of the Wegweiser (1698) gave only a series of figured basses for their intonationes, to which performers undoubtedly added solid chords and, if their skills allowed, passaggi. As late as 1739, Mattheson (Der vollkommene Capellmeister) noted that intonationes are ‘best with only a few full chords, although certain broken chords moving up or down, or down or up, can also be used’. He added that ‘they must as much as possible be unconstrained and played without marking the beat’.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

A. Pirro: ‘L'art des organistes’, EMDC, II/ii (1926), 1326–7

H.H. Eggebrecht: Studien zur musikalischen Terminologie (Wiesbaden, 1955), 898–926

E. Nolte: ‘The Magnificat Fugues of Johann Pachelbel: Alternation or Intonation?’,JAMS, ix (1956), 19–24

E. Kenton: Life and Works of Giovanni Gabrieli, MSD, xvi (1967)

M.C. Bradshaw: The Origin of the Toccata, MSD, xxviii (1972)

M.C. Bradshaw: ‘Tonal Design in the Venetian Intonation and Toccata’, MR, xxxv (1974), 101–19

E. Selfridge-Field: Venetian Instrumental Music from Gabrieli to Vivaldi (Oxford, 1975, 3/1994)

M.C Bradshaw: ‘The Influence of Vocal Music on the Venetian Toccata’, MD, xlii (1988), 157–98

(2) Term used to denote particular ornaments; See Ornaments, §§4 and Ornaments, §§8

MURRAY C. BRADSHAW

Intrada [entrada]

(from Sp. entrada).

An instrumental piece, generally for an ensemble, used to announce or accompany an entrance, to inaugurate some festive event, or to begin a suite. Intradas were also sometimes found within suites followed by a courante or a galliard, and Kirchen-Intraden served as intonations for choral pieces (e.g. those by Michael Altenburg, 1620). The term seems first to have been used in the sense of a contrapuntal entry, as in Valderrábano’s Fantasia sobre la entrada de una baxa (Silva de sirenas, 1547), but shortly afterwards it is found with the meaning of a polyphonic prelude in Venegas de Henestrosa’s Libro de cifra nueva (1557).

The term was also used for the stock piece that preceded and concluded the performance of a trumpet ensemble sonata during the 16th and early 17th centuries in Italy, the Holy Roman Empire and Scandinavia, as well as for a monophonic piece otherwise known as a toccata (see Signal (i) and Tuck, tucket). The trumpet ensemble equivalent of the instrumental intrada appeared towards the end of the 16th century but was known as the Aufzug (See Aufzug (i). The influence of the Aufzug is seen in a collection consisting exclusively of five- and six-part intradas published in Helmstaedt in 1597 by Alessandro Orologio, an Italian trumpeter active in various German cities. Reimann divided the secular intrada as cultivated in 17th-century Germany into four types: a processional type in march rhythm with fanfare motifs and repeated notes; a slower and more solemn pavan type; a faster dance type in triple metre; and a song type, homophonic and of a popular cast. Intradas are found later in collections of orchestral suites. Related types occur in Italy, France and England in connection with ballet and ballroom dances (Purcell’s ‘entry-tunes’ and ‘trumpet tunes’, Italian balli, and the entrées of the French ballet de cour). The intrada went out of fashion towards the end of the 17th century, though the term continued to be applied sporadically by such composers as Gluck (Alceste), Mozart (Bastien und Bastienne) and Beethoven (op.25).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

MGG2 (W. Braun)

M. Reimann: ‘Materialien zu einer Definition des Terminus und des Begriffs der Intrada’, Mf, x (1957), 337–64

R. Flotzinger: ‘Alessandro Orologio und seine Intraden (1597)’, DAM, xvii (1986), 53–64

P. Downey: ‘Fantini and Mersenne: some Additions to Recent Controversies’, Historic Brass Society Journal, vi (1994), 355–62

DAVID FULLER/PETER DOWNEY

Intramède.

See Intermède.

Introduction (i)

(Eng. and Fr.; Ger. Einleitung, Eingang; It. introduzione).

Term applied to the preparatory bars, generally in slow tempo, that are sometimes prefixed to extended quicker movements. Although chiefly associated with music of the Classical period the concept is much older than that. In Lamentations settings, for instance, the words ‘Incipit lamentatio Jeremiae prophetae’ are sung at the outset in a passage functioning as the musical equivalent of an illuminated title-page, designed to introduce the Lamentations proper (see for example those of Weerbeke (1506), GMB, p.54). In the Passions and other large-scale works of Schütz an Introitus fulfils the same function, although in the Historia … der Geburt … Jesu Christi this is actually headed ‘Introduction oder Eingang’. Matthew Locke developed a similar feature in his chamber music (MB, xxxi, xxxii), with brief introductory passages to a number of the fantasias which, in conjunction with balancing conclusions, are used to articulate the formal design in some of his consort sets.

In the Classical period an introduction (comparatively rare in a minor-key work) might consist of anything from a chord or two functioning primarily as a call to attention, to a lengthy section with a definite thematic content developed and extended within an appreciable form. The first kind, found in several of Haydn’s quartets (e.g. opp.71 no.3 and 76 no.1), had been used in the trio sonatas of Corelli (e.g. op.4 no.10) and had not outlived its usefulness even by the time of Beethoven’s ‘Eroica’ Symphony. In Haydn’s Quartet op.71 no.2 the introduction is not a few chords but a complete phrase, and this development is carried much further in many of his London symphonies. The introduction to no.99 in E, for example, embraces clear thematic contrasts and a degree of development in its binary structure. It retains the essential characteristics of an introduction, however, in that its tonal scheme is completed only when the music is precipitated into the ensuing Vivace assai. Introductions on this extended scale are found in many of Mozart’s orchestral divertimentos and serenades and in his Symphonies nos.36, 38 and 39; his ‘Symphony no.37’ is a symphony by Michael Haydn to which Mozart added a slow introduction. Beethoven’s Symphonies nos.1, 2, 4 and 7, most of Schubert’s, Mendelssohn’s Third and all of Schumann’s have introductions. Thematic relationships between the introduction and ensuing quick movement, evident in Haydn’s Symphonies nos.97 and 103 (and already foreshadowed in miniature in the Corelli trio sonata previously mentioned), became more frequent. In Beethoven’s Pathétique Sonata, phrases from the introduction recur during the course of the Allegro. Later, Tchaikovsky, in his Fourth and Fifth Symphonies, presented motto themes in the introductions which reappear not only in the movements that immediately follow but also in later movements. Finales too are sometimes preceded by an introduction (e.g. several Mozart serenades and his G minor String Quintet, Beethoven’s First Symphony, Schubert’s Octet, Brahms’s Symphony no.1 and his Piano Quintet). The introduction became a common feature of the overture during the late 18th century and the 19th and sometimes appeared in piano sonatas and chamber works, particularly those conceived on a large scale; its advent has been associated with the rise of the public concert.

Sets of variations have often been provided with introductions which may or may not anticipate the theme to be varied (e.g. Beethoven’s ‘Kakadu’ op.121a for piano trio, Chopin’s on ‘Là ci darem’ op.2 for piano and orchestra and Dohnányi’s Variations on a Nursery Song op.52 for the same forces); introductions to Strauss waltzes generally foreshadow some of the waltzes themselves and furnish material for the coda (e.g. Geschichten aus dem Wienerwald). Sometimes a work that is basically a single movement is given an increased stature by the provision of an introduction on a considerable scale (Schubert, Introduction and Rondo op.145 for piano; Chopin, Introduction and Polonaise for cello and piano op.3; pieces entitled ‘Introduction and Allegro’ by Schumann, Elgar and Ravel).

The term ‘introduzione’ is found in Beethoven’s op.35 piano variations and in the Waldstein Sonata (where the section concerned effectually stands in place of the slow movement); Schumann’s F minor Piano Sonata and Bartók’s First String Quartet and Concerto for Orchestra provide further instances. Although the opening pages of Tristan und Isolde are often referred to as the ‘Prelude’, Wagner’s score is actually headed ‘Einleitung’ here and in the other acts. Haydn’s ‘Representation of Chaos’ in The Creation, a piece which anticipates Wagner’s procedures in several respects, is similarly captioned.

In arias, songs and concertos instrumental passages or ritornellos preceding the entry of the soloist are sometimes loosely called ‘introduction’.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

GroveO (J. Budden)

MGG2 (R. Klinkhammer)

M. Danckwardt: Die langsame Einleitung: ihre Herkunft und ihr Bau bei Haydn und Mozart (Tutzing, 1977)

MICHAEL TILMOUTH (1), JULIAN BUDDEN (2)

Introduction (ii).

In opera, a title often given to the opening number when it involves more than two characters. It could be more or less complex in structure: it became particularly elaborate in the hands of Rossini (Il barbiere di Siviglia, 1816, and Semiramide, 1823), but during the first half of the 19th century the commonest formula was that of the ‘Introduzione e cavatina’, consisting of an opening chorus, a recitative and ‘cantabile’ for the soloist, a tempo di mezzo with dialogue and finally a cabaletta with choral support (after which the stage empties). Examples include Donizetti’s Maria Stuarda and Lucia di Lammermoor, Verdi’s Ernani and Il corsaro, and Mercadante’s Il bravo. With the rise of Italian grand opera in the 1870s the introduzione ceased to exist as a formal unit. A rich parody, however, is to be found in Sullivan’s The Gondoliers (1889).

Introdutta

(It.).

See Intermedio.

Introit (i)

(from Lat. introitus).

The first of the Proper or variable chants of the Mass. It is sung, as its name suggests, during the entrance of the celebrant and his ministers at the beginning of the Mass.

1. Definition.

2. Origins.

3. Repertory and texts.

4. Musical style.

5. Later history.

JAMES W. McKINNON

The introit psalm verse is sung to a set of eight psalm tones that are generally similar to those of Office psalmody but somewhat more elaborate. The first half of the verse, like a verse of Office psalmody, has an opening intonation figure and a closing cadential figure; while the second half of the verse, in this case unlike Office psalmody, has an opening figure in addition to the closing figure. (Some manuscripts provide closing figures of trope-like elaboration for special occasions.) The introit psalm tones are applied in a unique tri-partite manner to the concluding Gloria Patri. The middle part of the text, ‘sicut erat in principio et nunc et semper’, begins with the opening figure of the second half of the tone but ends with the closing figure of the first half. Communions and introits share this same set of psalm tones.

The Gregorian introit melodies are remarkably homogeneous in style; they do not vary in length nearly so much as communion antiphons, neither do they manifest the same degree of variation in melodic elaboration. Rather, they display a consistently neumatic style, with groups of between two and five notes on considerably more than half of a text's syllables. Thus they are much more elaborate than the typical Office antiphon, where the majority of the syllables are set to a single note.

Most introits have groups of repeated notes, either on F or, more often, on the C above. Observing this phenomenon and noting that several of the introit psalm tones recite on C, Apel was prompted to seek the origins of the introit antiphon in its psalm tone. However, F and C are the only notes subject to this sort of repetition, even when an introit's psalm tone recites on some other pitch, for example, on A. This would seem to suggest that F and C are pitches of special significance, whatever the mode of an introit, each functioning as a sort of tonal horizon. And the fact that several of the psalm tones recite on C would seem only to highlight the tonal significance of that pitch. This conclusion does not entirely preclude some sort of fundamental musical relationship between an introit antiphon and its psalm tone, but it does make it unlikely that the antiphon melody evolved as an elaborated psalm tone, particularly since the outline of the psalm tone, namely, a pair of recitative-like phrases, each with an opening and closing figure, is not at all apparent in the typical introit.

Connolly, also searching for the introit antiphon's musical origins, conducted a thorough comparison of the Old Roman and Gregorian melodies. He confirmed the general belief that the two bodies of chant were fundamentally related, but made the further observation that Old Roman introits were considerably more formulaic. He concluded from this that the Old Roman melodies, in their presently preserved state, must be closer than their Gregorian counterparts to the original melodies, which, he maintained, must have been still more formulaic in character. It may, however, be equally plausible that the Roman melodies, in the course of more than three centuries of oral transmission, lost a considerable measure of their variety and individuality, as different generations of singers sought to maintain control over the repertory.

The individuality of the Gregorian introits may be their most remarkable trait. All 145 melodies of the core repertory are unique, that is, no melody is shared by two or more chants, even if there is a strong resemblance between the opening portions of Da pacem and Statuit. It is true that many introits share opening and cadential formulae; several mode-1 introits, for example, begin with the striking figure illustrated in ex.1a; while the closing cadential figure of Domine in tua illustrated in ex.1b is found in several mode-5, 6, 7 and 8 introits. Such formulae, however, are encountered not only in introits but in most chant genres. ‘Formula’, perhaps, is not the best term for them; they might better be described as ‘motifs’ that serve to make up the common melodic language of Gregorian chant.

To summarize the musical evidence of the core repertory, it might be said that introits are puzzling by their very perfection; they lack the peculiarities of the other items of the Mass Proper that provide internal evidence of chronological layering. They are homogeneous in style, yet each is an individual melody. There is, moreover, a uniquely assigned introit for virtually every date in the Temporale and for a large proportion of the Sanctorale; this is a quality shared only with communions, whereas graduals, alleluias and offertories require much internal sharing to complete their annual cycles. And while the authors of the communion Temporale and Sanctorale resorted to the strategem of borrowing substantial numbers of Office responsories and antiphons, every introit appears to have been created with only a single purpose in mind. The mark of this borrowing by communions is the stylistic heterogeneity that the communion genre manifests in contrast to the introit's stylistic homogeneity. The individuality of each introit melody distinguishes the genre from graduals and especially from alleluias with their substantial use of model melodies. And finally introits lack entirely the sort of musical and textual layering that characterizes at least some portion of more than one of the other genres' annual cycles: for example, the alleluia's consistent use of its model melodies, particularly the Dies sanctificatus type, during Christmastide and on Paschaltide festal dates; the gradual's sequence of mode-2 followed by mode-5 melodies during the Advent–Christmas season; and the communion's use of Prophetic texts during Advent and on Christmas Day, and its sudden change to gospel texts for the post-Christmas dates. If such peculiarities of the other items of the Mass Proper indicate chronological layering, perhaps it can be said that their total absence in the introit suggests that the final state of the genre – whatever its use of earlier material – was achieved as the result of a single concentrated creative effort.

Introit (i)

5. Later history.

In addition to the 145 core repertory introits there are four Roman chants that do not appear in the earliest Frankish sources and six in the early Frankish sources that were added to the Roman corpus. The four Roman chants are Deus Israhel for the Missa sponsalica (Nuptial Mass); Rogamus te Domine for the Missa pro defunctis (Mass for the Dead); Benedicet te hodie for the Ordinatio episcoporum; and Elegit te Dominus for the Ordinatio pontificorum. The latter two chants, while absent from the very earliest (unnotated) Frankish sources, begin to make their appearance in manuscripts of the late 9th century (both appear, for example, in the Silvanectensis manuscript of Hesbert's Antiphonale missarum sextuplex). In the following centuries, however, their appearance remains sporadic, suggesting that they never became part of the standard repertory. The other two chants, Deus Israhel and Rogamus te Domine, are even less well represented in the Frankish and later Gregorian sources. Deus Israhel is entirely absent from the published sources. Rogamus te Domine, while absent from the unnotated 9th-century graduals, does make an appearance in a small minority of Gregorian manuscripts; among the published sources it can be found in non-diastematic notation in F-CHRm 47 and I-Ra 123, and in diastematic notation in I-BV 40. The presence of Rogamus te Domine in scattered 10th- and 11th-century manuscripts, when considered in view of its absence from 9th-century Frankish manuscripts, raises interesting questions of transmission.

More interesting, perhaps, are the six chants added by the Franks to accommodate their expansion of the Roman liturgical calendar: Benedicta sit for the feast of the Blessed Trinity; Memento nostri for the fourth Sunday of Advent; Narrabo nomen tuum for the Vigil of the Ascension; Omnes gentes for the Vigil of Pentecost and the seventh Sunday after Pentecost; Probasti Domine for the Octave of Saint Laurence; and Sicut fui for the Natale pontificorum. The least problematic of these is Benedicta sit, a very precise contrafactum of Invocabit me, the introit for Quadragesima Sunday; it was added to the repertory in the 9th century as introit for the newly created feast of the Trinity and appeared thereafter in virtually all Gregorian sources. Its prominence has influenced some scholars to state that all new Frankish introits were similarly adapted from pre-existent chants, but this is not the case. There is no contrafactum for Memento nostri, the introit for the fourth Sunday of Advent, a chant made necessary by the addition of this Sunday (a ‘Dominica vacat’ at Rome) to the Frankish liturgy; neither is there one for Omnes gentes, even though its opening phrase has the same melody as the opening phrase of Viri Galilei, an early Frankish offertory for the Ascension.

Memento nostri and Omnes gentes, while both apparently original Frankish melodies, display different degrees of melodic stability in the later sources. It might be assumed that Frankish additions to the repertory would be less stable than items from the original repertory. Omnes gentes, however, is remarkably stable, while Memento nostri, though appearing consistently with substantially the same melody, manifests considerably more melodic variation than the typical introit. Various hypothetical explanations for this difference may be proposed, for instance, that the exceedingly clear tonal orientation of the mode-6 Omnes gentes assured its stability, or that its earlier establishment in the repertory than Memento nostri did so. Probasti Domine, however, the introit for the Octave of St Laurence, conforms to neither of these explanations. It appears in the earliest Frankish sources, manifests a clear mode-7 tonality, and is even based upon an earlier chant, the introit In virtute tua for the feast of St Valentine. Yet it is radically unstable in the later sources, with at least three distinct melodies, or, perhaps better, three different arrangements of the same typical mode-7 phrases (the beginning of each is illustrated in ex.2).

Sicut fui, introit for the Natale pontificorum, has a similar history in the Gregorian sources to that of the Frankish-Roman Benedicet te hodie for the Ordinatio episcoporum and Elegit for the Ordinatio pontificorum; appearing first in the late 9th century, it is found thereafter only sporadically. That the three chants have similar assignments, namely, as common chants for either episcopal or pontifical occasions, suggests that there might be some liturgical reason for their similar histories. Narrabo nomen tuum, finally, is a curiosity among the Frankish additions to the introit repertory. It appears within the early unnotated sources only in the eccentric Rheinau manuscript, where it serves as the introit for the Vigil of the Ascension instead of the more usual Omnes gentes. Its melody may be lost since the only published source that has it is the non-diastematic I-Ra 123.

Introits continued to be added to the repertory after the 9th century, largely to accommodate new sanctoral dates and votive Masses. There is considerable regional variation, however, in the number of additions. Sources that follow the East Frankish tradition, for example, provide virtually no introits beyond those added by the mid-9th century, while Beneventan and especially Aquitanian sources supply them in abundance. Salve sancta parens for the votive Mass of the Virgin Mary makes its appearance in a large number of 11th- and 12th-century sources. It is very closely modelled on the introit for the Epiphany, Ecce advenit, which, again, has prompted some to conclude that late introits were generally contrafacta of chants from the core repertory. However, the majority of the later introits were newly composed, and those that are based on earlier models, for example, Vir Dei benedictus (the mode-6 version) on Os iusti and Domine dilexi decorem on Domine ne longe facias, do not follow their models as precisely as does Salve sancta parens.

The history of the plainchant introit in the later Middle Ages and the Renaissance has yet to be written; it is not possible to venture even the broadest generalizations about it. Among the later developments involving the introit, the most significant may have been the composition of introit tropes, a practice that flourished between the 10th and 12th centuries. During the 15th and 16th centuries German composers in particular created polyphonic settings of the Mass Proper that included introits; the most outstanding examples of these were collected in the Choralis constantinus of Heinrich Isaac. More common, perhaps, were transcriptions of the Gregorian introits into the vernacular by reformist congregations; there are German, English and Finnish examples of this practice, and most notably Czech examples produced by the Utraquist party (see the splendidly illuminated manuscript A-Wa 15503). It is worthy of mention, finally, that from the Middle Ages into modern times the Sundays of the ecclesiastical year were frequently referred to by reference to their introit – thus Laetare Sunday or Quasimodo Sunday.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

MGG1 (B. Stäblein)

J. Pothier: ‘De l'antienne “Sitientes”’, Revue du chant grégorien, ii (1893–4), 99–102

P. Wagner: Einführung in die gregorianischen Melodien: ein Handbuch der Choralwissenschaft, i:Ursprung und Entwicklung der liturgischen Gesangsformen bis zum Ausgang des Mittelalters (Leipzig, 2/1901, 3/1911/R); (Eng. trans., 1901/R), 54–63

U. Bomm: Der Wechsel der Modalitätsbestimmung in der Tradition der Messegesänge im IX. bis XIII. Jahrhundert (Einsiedeln, 1929/R)

T. Schrems: Die Geschichte des gregorianischen Gesanges in den protestantischen Gottesdiensten (Freiburg, 1930)

M. Andrieu, ed.: Les Ordines romani du haut Moyen-Age (Leuven, 1931–61)

R.-J. Hesbert: ‘La messe “Omnes gentes” du VIIe dimanche après la Pentecôte et “l'Antiphonale missarum” romain’, Revue grégorienne, xvii (1932), 81–9, 170–79; xviii (1933), 1–14

P. Ferretti: Estetica gregoriana, ossia trattato delle forme musicali del canto gregoriano, i (Rome, 1934/R; Fr. trans., 1938), 266–90

R.-J. Hesbert, ed.: Antiphonale missarum sextuplex (Brussels, 1935/R)

E. Cardine: ‘La psalmodie des introits’, Revue grégorienne, xxvi (1947), 172–7, 229–36; xxvii (1948), 16–25

J. Froger: ‘Les chants de la messe aux VIIIe et IXe siècles’, Revue grégorienne, xxvi (1947), 165–72

J.A. Jungmann: Missarum sollemnia: eine genetische Erklärung der römischen Messe (Vienna,1948, 5/1962; Eng. trans., 1951–5/R asThe Mass of the Roman Rite), i, 320–33

W. Apel: Gregorian Chant (Bloomington, IN, 1958, 2/1990)

T. Mathews: ‘An Early Roman Chancel Arrangement and its Liturgical Significance’, Rivista di archeologia cristiana, xxxviii (1962), 71–95

J. Mateos: ‘Evolution historique de la liturgie de saint Jean Chrysostome’, Proche-Orient chrétien, xvii (1967), 141–76

F. van de Paverd: Zur Geschichte der Messliturgie in Antiocheia und Konstantinopel gegen Ende des vierten Jahrhunderts: Analyse der Quellen bei Johannes Chrysostomos (Rome,1970), 425–8

A. Zwinggi: ‘Der Wortgottesdienst bei Augustinus’, Liturgisches Jb, xx (1970), 92–113, 129–40, 250–53

T. Connolly: ‘Introits and Archetypes: some Archaisms of the Old Roman Chant’, JAMS, xxv (1972), 157–74

H. van der Werf: The Emergence of Gregorian Chant: a Comparative Study of Ambrosian, Roman, and Gregorian Chant (Rochester, NY, 1983)

A. Chavasse: ‘Cantatorium et antiphonale missarum’, Ecclesia orans, i (1984), 15–55

P. Jeffery: ‘The Introduction of Psalmody into the Roman Mass by Pope Celestine I, 422–32’,Archiv für Liturgiewissenschaft, xxvi (1984), 147–65

J. Baldovin: The Urban Character of Christian Worship (Rome, 1987), 105–66, 214–19

D.G. Hughes: ‘Evidence for the Traditional View of the Transmission of Gregorian Chant’, JAMS, xl (1987), 377–404

H. Hucke: ‘Gregorianische Fragen’, Mf, xli (1988), 304–30

S. Klöckner: Analytische Untersüchungen an 16 Introiten im I. Ton des altrömischen und des fränkisch-gregorianischen Repertoires hinsichtlich einer bewussten melodischen Abhängigkeit, Beiträge zur Gregorianik, v (1988) [whole issue]

R. Crocker: ‘Chants of the Roman Mass’, NOHM, ii (2/1990), 174–84

D. Hiley: Western Plainchant: a Handbook (Oxford, 1993), 108–16

M. Huglo: ‘Observations codicologiques sur l'antiphonaire de Compiègne (Paris, B.N. lat. 17436)’, De musica et cantu: Helmut Hucke zum 60. Geburtstag, ed. P. Cahn and A.-K. Heimer (Hildesheim, 1993), 117–29

J.W. McKinnon: ‘Antoine Chavasse and the Dating of Early Chant’, PMM, i (1992), 123–47

J.W. McKinnon: ‘Properization: the Roman Mass’, Cantus planus V: Éger 1993, 15–22

T. Karp: ‘Formulaic Usage among Neumatic Chants: the Construction of Gregorian Introits’, Aspects of Orality and Formularity in Gregorian Chant (Evanston, IL, 1998)

Introit (ii)

(from Lat. introitus).

Vocal polyphonic introits are not very common, but there are English examples from the Middle Ages, for example in the Worcester Fragments (ed. in MSD, ii (1957), nos.9, 64, both troped settings of Salve sancta parens). There are 15th-century settings from the Continent, for example in plenary masses such as Du Fay's Missa Sancti Jacobi and in the Trent codices, which include a lengthy cycle of Propers (I-TRmn MS 88, 113v–220r, with some interruptions, a total of 14 cycles). It is almost always present in requiem masses, frequently being joined to the Kyrie in post-Renaissance examples (e.g. Mozart, Verdi).

The instrumental introit replaces all or part of the sung liturgical introit of the Mass. Usually the plainchant of the antiphon was set in full as an organ piece, leaving the psalm verse and the doxology to be sung in plainchant. It is not clear whether the organ piece was meant to replace only one performance of the antiphon or two or three. There are three such settings in the Buxheimer Orgelbuch (see Sources of keyboard music to 1660, §2(iii)), all for Marian votive masses. From the 16th century there are a number of examples in Hans Buchner's Fundamentum and in the tablature of Jan z Lublina; a Warsaw manuscript of about 1580, now surviving only in a photographic copy, contained no fewer than 47. The form was little cultivated in France and Italy, and only one English example has survived. This piece (EECM, x, 20) is part of Thomas Preston's Easter Sunday Mass. The antiphon Resurrexi is first set in two parts with the plainchant heavily ornamented in the bass. The organ then answers the singers with the second half of the following psalm verse in a three-part setting with the plainchant in the middle. The Sarum rite at that point required the repetition of the antiphon before the doxology; both were probably intended to be sung in plainchant. A four-part setting of the antiphon concludes the piece.

Introit plainchants have only rarely been set since the 16th century. In Frescobaldi's Fiori musicali (1635) short introductory toccatas take the place of the introit. In the High Mass of the 17th and 18th centuries the introit, spoken by the priest, was often covered entirely by an elaborate (vocal) setting of the Kyrie. It re-emerged as an instrumental form, however, with the development of organ accompaniments to Low Mass, for which Liszt and Kodály provided short movements. The typical French ‘organ mass’ suites of Tournemire and others always begin with an introductory movement for the entry of the ministers, a distinguished example being that in Messiaen's Messe de la Pentecôte (1949–50). See also Organ mass.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

ApelG

HarrisonMMB

C. Päsler: ‘Fundamentbuch von Hans von Constanz’, VMw, v (1889), 1–192

E. Southern: The Buxheim Organ Book (Brooklyn, NY, 1963)

H.R. Zöbeley: Die Musik des Buxheimer Orgelbuchs: Spielvorgang, Niederschrift, Herkunft, Faktur (Tutzing, 1964)

J. Caldwell: English Keyboard Music before the Nineteenth Century (Oxford, 1973/R)

JOHN CALDWELL

Intromessa.

See Intermedio.

Inuit music.

See Amerindian music, §II, 1(ix) and United States of America, §II, 4(ii).

Invention.

Usually a short vocal or instrumental piece with no very special defining characteristics apart from novelty of material or form. The concept of inventio (Lat.) or inventione (It.), initially through the influence of writers on rhetoric, is not infrequently met with in musical treatises of the Renaissance, where it may refer either to the ‘discovery’ of music as such (Tinctoris, De inventione et usu musicae) or to the processes of its composition. An early example of its use for a collection of works is Janequin's Premier livre des inventions musicales … contenant La Guerre … (1555). Italian examples are found in Cesare Negri's Nuove inventioni di balli (1604), Biagio Marini's Sonate, symphonie … con altre curiose e moderne inventioni (1629) and in many later works, including Bonporti's Invenzioni da camera for violin and continuo (1712), which were copied by Bach (whose own inventions, however, owe nothing to them formally). It is sometimes used merely as an abstract noun (Vivaldi: Il Cimento dell'armonia e dell'invenzione, 1725) and sometimes as a collective noun (Viadana: Cento concerti ecclesiastici … nova inventione commoda per ogni sorte de cantori, e per gli organisti, 1602). The earliest English example, for a specific piece, seems to be Dowland's ‘Invention … for two to playe upon one Lute’ (First Booke of Songs or Ayres, 1597). The German word is ‘Invention’, but German composers often preferred the Latin form ‘inventio’, as in the preface to Kuhnau's Frische Clavier-Früchte (1696).

The word has obvious affinities with ‘ricercare’, with its connotation of ‘seeking out’ or ‘finding’, and it has been pointed out that certain textless ricercares of the 16th and 17th centuries, intended for practice in singing, may well be considered, in a sense, ancestors of Bach’s inventions. Bach also preferred the Latin form, applying it ultimately to the 15 pieces in two-part counterpoint which he had originally called ‘preambulum’ in the Clavier-Büchlein vor W.F. Bach (1720). Two other autograph copies (one dated 1723) are known; in these the usual title is found. In addition there are found in all three manuscripts the 15 works in three-part counterpoint, originally called ‘fantasia’ and subsequently ‘sinfonia’. It is convenient to consider these at the same time, since they are frequently referred to colloquially as inventions, together with a number of other keyboard works in two-part counterpoint, including the four duettos from the Clavier-Übung, part iii.

The title-page of the 1723 manuscript reads in translation:

Straightforward instruction, whereby lovers of the keyboard, and especially those eager to learn, are shown a clear method, not only (1) of learning to play distinctly in two parts, but also, after further progress, (2) of managing three obbligato parts correctly and satisfactorily; and in addition not only of arriving at good original ideas [Inventiones] but also of developing them satisfactorily; and most of all of acquiring a cantabile style of playing while at the same time receiving a strong foretaste of composition.

Thus the works serve the dual purpose of providing technical practice and demonstrating the composer’s art. The title ‘inventio’ may well stem from Bach's use of this word in his preface to denote ‘original ideas’.

The key sequence of the 15 works in both sets is identical: C, c, D, d, E, E, e, F, f, G, g, A, a, B, b. There were lacking in this ascending order only another nine keys to arrive at the full set of 24 used in Das wohltemperirte Clavier, a scheme on which Bach was engaged at the same time.

The first four inventions and the eighth begin with imitation at the octave below; no.10 begins with imitation at the 11th below, while all the others begin with both parts simultaneously. Only no.6 is in two repeated sections, but Bach made nos.8 and 10 fall particularly clearly into two halves by repeating their opening imitative passages in inversion in the dominant key. Double counterpoint is used extensively, but always unobtrusively and without pedantry. From all this it can be seen that there is no one ‘invention form’ for Bach and that the title has been applied to these little masterpieces quite casually.

The sinfonias are predominantly fugal, though in no case does a single part enter with the subject alone. Nevertheless nos.1, 3, 4 and 7–14 all begin with subject, answer and subject in the manner of a fugal exposition. No.6 differs only in that its second and third entries are both in the dominant, while in nos.2 and 15 there are only two entries, both in the tonic. No.5 is exceptional in that the imitation is confined to the upper two parts throughout over an ostinato bass. Most of them employ a certain amount of triple counterpoint, but the device is used extensively only in no.3, where the subject and two countersubjects are used in all six of their possible inversions, and in no.9, where four of the possible combinations are employed for the three themes.

The four duettos from part iii of the Clavier-Übung are much longer pieces with either fugal or concertante implications or both. The first, in E minor, which is in double counterpoint, has strong affinities with the Courante from the sixth Partita. The second, in F, is a da capo movement which is also a fugue, and no.4, in A minor, is a fugue too. A number of movements from the partitas are in two-part counterpoint, of which the Fantasia in no.3 is in ritornello form, though it is treated with a good deal of freedom. Finally, in the E minor fugue from book 1 of Das wohltemperirte Clavier there is a solitary example of a two-part fugue.

The term ‘invention’ has occasionally been revived in modern times, either to denote a composition in two-part counterpoint or in a more general sense (e.g. Blacher, Zwei Inventionen für Orchester, op.46). The most interesting examples are the ‘inventions’ (not so called in the score but sanctioned by Reich) in the third act of Berg's Wozzeck: on a theme (i.e. a theme, variations and fugue, bars 3–70), a note (bars 71–121), a rhythm (bars 122–218), a chord (bars 220–319), a key (bars 320–71) and an ostinato movement in quavers (bars 372–92).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

A. Schering: ‘Geschichtliches zur “ars inveniendi” in der Musik’, JbMP 1925, 25–34

W. Reich: Alban Berg: Leben und Werk (Vienna, 1937, 3/1985)

H.-P. Komorowski: Die ‘Invention’ in der Musik des 20. Jahrhunderts (Regensburg, 1971)

W. Arlt: ‘Zur Handhabung der “inventio” in der deutschen Musiklehre des frühen achtzehnten Jahrhunderts’, New Mattheson Studies, ed. G.J. Buelow and H.J. Marx (Cambridge, 1983), 371–91

R. Woodley: ‘The Printing and Scope of Tinctoris's Fragmentary Treatise De inuentione et usu musice’, EMH, v (1985), 239–68

JOHN CALDWELL

Inventionstrompete

(Ger.).

Generic term used from the mid-17th to the mid-19th centuries to refer to a trumpet provided with some kind of mechanism designed to increase its performing compass (see Trumpet (ii)). Similarly, the Inventionshorn was a horn provided with a system of sliding crooks to alter the pitch of the instrument; it was conceived by A.J. Hempel and first built in about 1753 (see Horn, §2(iii)).

Invernici [Invernizzi], Ottavio.

See Vernizzi, Ottavio.

Inversion

(Ger. Umkehrung).

(1) The rearrangement of the notes of a chord built in 3rds so that the lowest note is not the root of the chord. Ex.1 shows the three positions of the C major triad, each in both close and open spacings. If the lowest note of the chord is the 3rd of the triad it is said to be ‘in first inversion’ (see Sixth chord). If its lowest note is the 5th, then it is ‘in second inversion’ (see Six-four chord). The inversion of triads can be extended to 7th chords, where an extra position of the chord – ‘third inversion’, with the 7th as lowest note – is possible (ex.2). Much the same can be applied to 9th chords. In Roman numeral chord notation (see Harmony, §2(ii)), inversions are indicated by arabic numerals or letters: in a C major context, for example, the three chords in ex.1 are either I, I6 and I6-4 or I, Ib and Ic, while ex.2 shows I7, I7b, I7c and I7d.

(2) The complement of an interval with respect to some fixed interval often assumed to be an octave. Within an octave, a 2nd inverts to a 7th, a 3rd to a 6th, a 4th to a 5th and vice versa; within a 10th, a 2nd inverts to a 9th, a 3rd to a an octave, etc. This type of inversion is the basis of Invertible counterpoint, where the functioning of different polyphonic parts as the bass part is dependent on the consonant intervals between them inverting to other consonant intervals.

(3) The mirroring of a succession of notes about a fixed note, usually the first note or interval in the succession of the most easily identified form of inversion because of its association with melodic contour. It is a common feature of contrapuntal music, since it offers new thematic combinations, for whose workability a structurally sound original is usually a necessary and sufficient condition. For some writers the discipline of invertible counterpoint also includes counterpoint based on thematic inversion. This type of inversion has been extended by the theory of Twelve-note composition to include the inversion of the 12 pitch classes making up a set about a fixed pitch class. Thus the set used at the beginning of each movement of Schoenberg’s Suite op.25, shown in ex.4a, yields the set given in ex.4b when inverted about its first note.

WILLIAM DRABKIN

Inverted cadence.

Medial cadence.

Invertible counterpoint.

The contrapuntal design of two or more parts in a polyphonic texture so that any of these parts may serve as the highest part or as the bass. Invertible counterpoint involving two (three, four) parts is called double (triple, quadruple) counterpoint.

The underlying principle of invertible counterpoint is the Inversion of intervals with respect to some fixed interval. For instance, ex.1a shows a cantus firmus (given in semibreves) with a note-against-note solution beneath, and in ex.1b the same two parts are inverted ‘at the octave’. The lower part is moved up an octave, and the intervals between the two parts become the complements of those in the original setting: unisons become octaves, 3rds become 6ths and 6ths become 3rds.

The inversion of a consonant interval is not always consonant. For instance the 5th, inverted at the octave, becomes a 4th (which is treated as a dissonance in note-against-note counterpoint); the 6th, inverted at the 12th, becomes a 7th. This means that the choice of intervals between the parts of a passage in invertible counterpoint is restricted, dependent on the interval of inversion.

Moreover, not only must the concept of consonance and dissonance be respected, but the rules of Part-writing must also be observed. For example: at the interval of a 10th, consecutive 3rds and 6ths invert to consecutive octaves and fifths, and must therefore be avoided. Ex.1c illustrates the unsuitability of the ‘solution’ in ex.1a for inversion at the 10th; an alternative solution to the same cantus firmus – one which can be inverted at this interval – is shown in Ex.2.

An exhaustive discussion of the applications of invertible counterpoint is found in S.I. Taneyev’s Podvizhnoy kontrapunkt strogogo pis'ma (Leipzig and Moscow, 1909; Eng. trans., 1962, as Convertible Counterpoint in the Strict Style). The standard English textbook has been Ebenezer Prout’s Double Counterpoint and Canon (London, 1891).

As a musical discipline, invertible counterpoint has remained within the domain of strict counterpoint since it was introduced by Vicentino in L’antica musica ridotta alla moderna prattica (1555). As a compositional technique, though, it was used infrequently until the Baroque era, when the bass was established as a fully developed line with a recognizable contour and a melodic identity of its own. In fugue the relationship of counter-subject to subject makes their invertibility almost an a priori condition; invertible counterpoint flourished in fugues and other compositions in a strict polyphonic style. In such works as Bach’s Three-Part Invention in F minor, invertibility may be said to be used as a structural principle; and in works like Die Kunst der Fuge and the Canonic Variations on Vom Himmel hoch he lifted the technique to a level far above that of an ‘academic’ exercise.

For bibliography see Counterpoint.

WILLIAM DRABKIN

Invitatory

(from Lat. invitatio: ‘invitation’).

A fixed psalm opening a service of the Divine Office. In the Roman rite the term is used only for the opening chant of Matins: Psalm xciv (Vulgate numbering; Psalm xcv, Hebrew numbering) sung in alternation with an antiphon. The term has also been used occasionally by modern liturgical scholars to refer to any opening chant of the Divine Office, regardless of its character and without reference to fixed or variable characteristics.

In the early Church, an invitatory was included at the beginning of Vigils (later known as Matins), at Lauds, Vespers and elsewhere. The text seems to have varied from one region to another, and perhaps also according to the particular service, among other factors. St John Chrysostom, describing the state of the liturgy in Antioch before 397, mentioned an invitatory consisting of Psalm cxxxiii (Hebrew numbering) and Isaiah xxvi.9ff, both of which have an ‘invitatory’ character resembling that of Psalm xcv. A similar diversity of usage, presumably deriving directly from these early traditions, appears in the services of the Christian East. Thus the texts mentioned by Chrysostom were later also sung in the Byzantine cathedral vigil and in many other Eastern liturgies.

The following discussion concentrates on the invitatory as it was known in the Roman and Benedictine liturgies of the Middle Ages. Despite some research into certain local traditions, no comprehensive study of invitatory tones and antiphons has yet been published; for this article a survey was made of those in a number of collections, primarily the following: CH-SGs 390–91 (antiphoner of c1000; facs. in PalMus, 2nd ser., i, 1900, 2/1970)I-Fs (12th-century antiphoner)GB-WO, f.160 (13th-century antiphoner; facs. in PalMus, 1st ser., xii, 1992/R)The Sarum Tonal (13th century, ed. W.H. Frere in The Use of Sarum, ii, Cambridge, 1901/R, and described in his introduction to AS, i, 1901/R, 62–4)Liber responsorialis (Solesmes, 1895/R), 6–26

The Latin text used for the invitatory psalm is that of the Roman Psalter, which differs in several respects from the later version of the so-called Gallican Psalter in the Vulgate. When chanted, it is divided into five sections, rather than the customary 11 verses; there is one additional phrase not found in the Gallican Psalter.

The tones, or melodies, to which the invitatory psalm is sung generally consist of formulae slightly modified to accommodate the five different sections of the text and the minor doxology (the latter treated as a sixth section). The internal structure of these formulae is usually tripartite. The invitatory antiphon seems to have been sung in full before the psalm, and after each of the odd-numbered sections. After the even-numbered sections and the doxology, only the final section of the antiphon was sung. Ex.1 shows the invitatory tone (6th mode) used on weekdays (the ferial tone) with the antiphon for Friday, as they appear in the Worcester antiphoner (pp.192 and 69, respectively).

The number of tones used for the invitatory during the Middle Ages varied widely. Of the manuscripts containing them, some have very few, others about a dozen. Exceptionally, there may be as many as 20. Frere found that there were in the Sarum Use one tone each in the 2nd, 3rd, 5th and 7th modes, three tones in the 6th mode and five in the 4th mode; this arrangement seems to have been the usual one. One tone is classified in the Sarum Use as being in the 1st mode, but elsewhere as being in the 4th. There are usually no invitatory antiphons or tones in the 1st or 8th modes.

In most of the modes there was a fairly consistent linking of specific antiphons and tones; and some tones were reserved for festivals of a certain type. There are, for example, two antiphon melodies for the 5th mode: both were adapted to several different texts. One melody was sung at Ascension and Pentecost, the other on various Sundays. The ferial tone is one of the three tones in the 6th mode. Another was sung at Worcester and Salisbury at Easter, and at Salisbury on a few other days. The third was sung at Salisbury during Easter week and on saints’ days between Easter and Pentecost. There is only one antiphon melody in the 3rd mode; it was used for the feast of St John the Baptist, occasionally on other saints’ days, and for some Commons (this 3rd-mode tone and antiphon melody may be rather later additions to the repertory; at St Gallen they were used only for the feasts of St Gallen and All Saints, both relatively late additions to the local liturgy). The tone for the 7th mode was very similar to the tone for the responsory verses in that mode. There were many antiphons for this tone; some of their melodies resemble one another. In some manuscripts it was the tone for Easter and was used also on various Sundays and saints’ days. The tone of the 2nd mode is apparently another late addition to the repertory; some of its associated antiphon melodies are thematically related. These antiphons occur mostly in the Proper Offices of individual saints. In the Sarum rite there were also some 2nd-mode antiphons in the historiae – Offices sung after Pentecost, with texts taken from the books of the Old Testament read during that season.

Manuscripts contain an enormous variety of invitatory antiphons. However, only a handful seems to have been in general use on any particular day. The invitatory antiphons are different in this respect from the first few responsories of Matins, which remained constant almost everywhere. Because of the variety in use from one manuscript to the next, a reliable and comprehensive survey of the tones and antiphons for the invitatory will not be possible until a number of repertories have been studied, as the Sarum invitatories were by Frere. Their variety can be demonstrated by the following example dealing with a small number of the 4th-mode invitatories.

During most of the Middle Ages, the invitatory antiphon for Palm Sunday was Ipsi vero, and it is one of the few that were in nearly universal use on one particular day (see CAO, i–iii, 1963–8). Its text comes from Psalm xciv and it might be assumed, from its secure place in the liturgy and the conservatism manifest in the selection of its text (from the invitatory psalm itself), that this antiphon would always have been associated with a single 4th-mode tone which had come from the earliest layer of this chant’s repertory. Yet in the manuscripts Ipsi vero is assigned several different tones. In the collection of invitatory tones in the St Gallen antiphoner it is listed with eight other antiphons (identifiable as in the 4th mode from other manuscripts) for the first of the tones given there. Among them are Ecce venit ad templum (Purification) and Hodie scietis (Christmas Eve), which were also nearly universal on their feast days. The exact nature of the invitatory tone in the St Gallen manuscript remains unknown; the notation of intervals there is not precise enough to permit identification of the melody.

In the Worcester antiphoner Ipsi vero, Hodie scietis and a number of other invitatory antiphons were assigned to a tone reserved in the Sarum tonary for one invitatory antiphon, Adoremus regem apostolorum, for the feast of St John the Evangelist. Furthermore, at Worcester Ecce venit ad templum and other invitatory antiphons, among them Adoremus regem apostolorum, were sung to a tone different from that for Ipsi vero. In the Florence antiphoner Hodie scietis does not appear; Ipsi vero and Ecce venit ad templum were assigned to a tone which is printed in the modern Liber responsorialis as a 4th-mode tone ending on D, but which in the Sarum tonary (apparently idiosyncratic in this respect) is said to be the tone for the 1st mode. This tone also appears at Worcester with the 4th-mode antiphon Adoremus Dominum, for use on the Sundays after Epiphany and Trinity (see ex.2).

It may be concluded that the repertory of the invitatory antiphons and tones was fixed only at a late date. The invitatory itself was not a late addition to the liturgy, however; it was mentioned in the Rule of St Benedict (c530), and is thought to have been taken over into the Roman cursus at the time of Pope Gregory I (d 604). Traces of the archaic pre-Gregorian Matins without an invitatory still remained in the liturgy at the time of Amalarius of Metz (early 9th century), who reported that there was a double service of Matins at Rome on Christmas morning, one of which lacked an invitatory. Indeed, the last three days of Holy Week still remain without an invitatory. A basic collection of Sunday and ferial antiphons and tones may have continued in use for a long time, with Proper antiphons and tones being introduced only gradually, at a late date.

The text for the ferial antiphon for Monday is ‘Venite exsultemus Domino’, and it was set at Worcester to a 6th-mode melody like those of the other ferial antiphons. In other manuscripts a different antiphon melody was used here, with a special 4th-mode tone (for this, see Ferretti, 248).

Of the small number of invitatory antiphons in widespread use on one feast day, most are in the 4th mode, and every collection contains more tones in this mode than in any other. Although the antiphon melodies given in exx.3a and 3b are quite similar, the tones used with them are different in almost every way.

Some groups of invitatory tones seem to have been composed to complement a single antiphon melody, with invitatory tone and antiphon linked musically. Thus the 4th-mode tone for Christmas and its antiphon Christus natus est (LU, 368–71) are used with a slight change of words at Epiphany in the monastic cursus: the end of the tone (the music for the last few syllables) is identical with part of the antiphon. This part immediately precedes the material used as the refrain, thereby providing a recurring musical cue for the singing of the refrain. The same is normally true in the 3rd mode. However, in some tones (see, for example, that for the 3rd mode in the Sarum tonary, p.xxi), the endings given for the odd-numbered and even-numbered sections are different; since the even-numbered sections are followed directly by the refrain, their ending matches that of the earlier part of the antiphon.

The tones and antiphons for the invitatory psalm remain inadequately understood. The basic repertory, whatever it may have been, seems to have been enlarged at different times. It may be difficult to distinguish the various layers among these additions, and to determine the stylistic principles in each of them, but the task should result in an improved appreciation of the changes in repertory and style of liturgical chant during the Middle Ages.

See also Psalm, §II.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

P. Ferretti: Estetica gregoriana ossia Trattato delle forme musicali del canto gregoriano, i (Rome, 1934/R; Fr. trans., enlarged, 1938), 233–65

W. Heckenbach: Das Antiphonar von Ahrweiler (Cologne, 1971), 70–104

R. Steiner: ‘Reconstructing the Repertory of Invitatory Tones and their Uses at Cluny in the 11th century’, Musicologie médiévale: Paris 1982, 175–82

R. Steiner: ‘Tones for the Palm Sunday Invitatory’, JM, iii (1984), 142–56

R. Steiner: ‘Local and Regional Traditions of the Invitatory Chant’, SM, xxvii (1985), 131–8

S. Harris: ‘Psalmodic Traditions and the Christmas and Epiphany Troparia as Preserved in 13th-Century Psaltika and Asmatika’, Cantus Planus Study Session IV: Pécs 1988, 205–19

D. Hiley: Western Plainchant: a Handbook (Oxford, 1993)

R. Steiner: ‘The Twenty-Two Invitatory Tones of the Manuscript Toledo, Biblioteca capitular, 44.2’, Music in Performance and Society: Essays in Honor of Roland Jackson, ed. M. Cole and J. Koegel (Warren, MI, 1997), 59–79

RUTH STEINER/KEITH FALCONER

Inzegneri, Marc’Antonio.

See Ingegneri, Marc’Antonio.

Inzenga (y Castellanos), José

(b Madrid, 3 June 1828; dMadrid, 28 June 1891). Spanish composer. After studying with his father and at the Madrid Conservatory with Pedro Albéniz, he spent the years 1842–8 in Paris, where he was a composition pupil of Carafa at the Conservatoire. Through Auber’s influence, he was in 1847 appointed a chorus master at the Opéra-Comique, but the next year was driven back to Madrid by the Revolution of 1848.

Although betraying French influences, his first zarzuela, the one-act El campamento (8 May 1851), dedicated to the Duke of Osuna, who had subsidized his Parisian studies, won immediate and lasting acclaim. In cooperation with Hernando he next composed the zarzuela El confitero de Madrid (7 November 1851) and with Barbieri, Gaztambide, Hernando and Oudrid the highly successful four-act Por seguir a una mujer (24 December 1851) and the fiasco Don Simplicio Bobadilla (7 May 1853). Apart from other unhappy collaborations, he independently composed three more failures in the 1850s, closing his zarzuela career with ¡Si yo fuera rey! (6 September 1862).

In 1857 the Spanish government commissioned him to gather regional songs and dances, the first collection from Galicia (including Asturias) appearing in 1874 as volume i of Cantos y bailes populares de España, published by A. Romero in Madrid. In 1888 volumes ii (Murcia) and iii (Valencia) appeared. The third volume includes his valuable ‘Relación y explicación históricas de la solemne procesión del Corpus Christi que anualmente celebra la … ciudad de Valencia’. In 1890 the same publisher issued Cantos populares de España: miscelánea para piano with some overlap of contents from the 1888 volumes. These collections were reissued by Unión Musical Española several times in the 20th century, beginning in 1910, as Ecos de España. Inzenga also wrote Impresiones de un artista en Italia (Madrid, 1876), La música en el templo católico (Madrid, 1878) and a pamphlet Arte de acompañar al piano. From 1860 to his death he taught singing at the Madrid Conservatory.

WORKS

(selective list)

all stage works, first performed in Madrid

El campamento (1, L. Olona), Circo, 8 May 1851 (Madrid, 1851)

El confitero de Madrid (2 or 3, Olona), Circo, 7 Nov 1851, collab. R. Hernando

Por seguir a una mujer (4, Olona), Circo, 24 Dec 1851, collab. F.A. Barbieri, J. Gaztambide, Hernando and C. Oudrid

Don Simplicio Bobadilla (3, M. and V. Tamayo y Baus), Circo, 7 May 1853, collab. Barbieri, Gaztambide and Hernando

Un día de reinado (3, J. García Gutiérrez and Olona), Circo, 15 Feb 1854, collab. Barbieri, Gaztambide and Oudrid

¡Si yo fuera rey! (3, M. Pina and M. Pastorfido), Circo, 6 Sept 1862

BIBLIOGRAPHY

J.M. Esperanza y Sola: Treinta años de crítica musical: colección póstuma de los trabajos (Madrid, 1906), ii, 394–402, 616–21

E. Cotarelo y Mori: Historia de la zarzuela, o sea el drama lírico (Madrid, 1934), 315, 467, 509

A. Peña y Goñi: La ópera española y la música dramática en España en el siglo XIX (Madrid, 1934), 480ff

J. Henken: Francisco Asenjo Barbieri and the Nineteenth-Century Revival in Spanish National Music (diss., UCLA, 1987), 57ff

E. Casares, ed.: Francisco Asenjo Barbieri: Documentos sobre música española y epistolario, Legado Barbieri, ii (Madrid, 1988), 393, 661–7, 1174 [incl. letters to Barbieri]

J.B. Varela de Vega: ‘Un castellano, pionero en la recopilación del folklore musical gallego’, Revista de folklore, no.99 (1989), 100–02

ROBERT STEVENSON

Ioachimescu, Călin

(b Bucharest, 29 March 1949). Romanian composer. After studying composition with Niculescu at the Bucharest Academy, graduating in 1975, he became a sound engineer at Romanian Radio-Television in 1980. As well as attending classes in Darmstadt in 1980 and 1984, Ioachimescu refined his electronic techniques at IRCAM in Paris, taking a computer music course there in 1985. He directs the electro-acoustic laboratory of the Romanian Composers' and Musicologists' Union. Fascinated by the diversity of sound phenomena, Ioachimescu investigates the relationship between instrumental and electronic timbres. After his atmospheric modal works of the mid-1970s he began to incorporate synthetic elements, often involving harmonic spectra. With Tempo 80 (1978) and Oratio (1979, 1981) he explores new sonorities ranging from fluid transparency to complex conglomerations of sound. Natural timbres are interlocked with electronically-produced sounds in Spectral Music (1985), while in Celliphonia (1988) Ioachimescu explores the relationship between two harmonic spectra with fundamentals a minor 3rd apart.

WORKS

(selective list)

Inst: Str Qt no.1, 1974; Tempo 80, orch, 1978; Hierophonies Alpha, fl, cl, bn, str qt, perc, 1983; Hierophonies Beta, fl, cl, sax, bn, vn, va, vc, db, perc, 1984; Str Qt no.2, 1984; Conc., trbn, db, orch, 1985; Palindrom 7, ens, 1993; Sax Conc., 1994

With tape: Oratio I, fl, ob, cl, hn, tpt, trbn, tape, 1979; Oratio II, chbr conc., fl, ob, cl, hn, tpt, trbn, perc, tape, elec delay, 1981; Spectral Music, s + a + bar sax, tape, 1985; Celliphonia, vc, tape, 1988; Les éclats de l'abîme, cb sax, tape, 1995

Vocal: Suite of Carols, 1973; Magic Spell (trad. text), 8 female vv, 3 str trios, perc, 1974

BIBLIOGRAPHY

G. Tartler: Melopoetica (Bucharest, 1984)

A.-M. Avram and H. Halbreich: Roumanie: terre de neuvième ciel (Bucharest, 1992)

OCTAVIAN COSMA

Ioanne a Cruce Clodiensis.

See Croce, Giovanni.

Ioannidis, Yannis

(b Athens, 8 June 1930). Greek composer. He studied piano with Elli and Spiro Farandatos at the Athens Conservatory (1946–55); then at the Vienna Academy of Music he took lessons in organ with Karl Walter (graduating in 1959), composition with Otto Siegl (diploma and prize, 1963) and harpsichord with Eta Harich-Schneider. Having married a Venezuelan pianist, Nilyan Perez, he settled in Caracas and took Venezuelan nationality in 1968. In 1969 he was appointed professor of modern composition at the Institute of Culture and Fine Arts, Caracas, and in 1971 he became professor of harmony and organ at the Caracas Conservatory and was also appointed to teach and direct the choir at Caracas University. While at the Institute of Culture he conducted its chamber orchestra; in 1971 he founded the Caracas Chamber Orchestra, and he also appeared frequently as a guest conductor with Venezuelan symphony orchestras. He has been honoured with the Venezuelan Teresa Carreño National Music Award (1969) for Figuras, and second prize at the Louis Moreau Gottschalk Competition (USA, 1970) for Metaplassis A. In 1976 he returned to Athens, where he became one of the first, after Papaïoannou, to teach contemporary compositional techniques. He taught at the Orpheion Conservatory (1976–81), was choirmaster of the student chorus at the music department of Athens University (1978–82), artistic director and professor at the Nikos Skalkottas Conservatory (1981–9), re-established in 1982 the once prestigious Harodhia Athinon (‘Athens Chorus’) and succeeded Hadjidakis as artistic director of the Kratiki Orchestra Athinon (‘Athens State Orchestra’) (1982–9). He was later appointed art director and professor at the Philippos Nakas Conservatory (1989–93), and professor at the music department of Athens University (1991–3), where he taught counterpoint, form and analysis. In 1993 he founded the Moussiki Etaeria Athinon (‘Athens Music Society’) and established its conservatory, as professor of composition and artistic director. Since the free atonality of his Duo (1962), to which he has always adhered, he has avoided experiment as well as allegiance to any particular school, producing works of elegant structure in which linear writing occasionally evolves towards a style of rich textures (‘Tropic’, 1968). His statements have become increasingly direct and precise, attaining a higher level of musical perception and emotional depth in spite of their clarity and restraint (42 syndoma kommatia, ‘42 Short Pieces’, 1968–9). He has written a series of essays Grafta ya ti moussiki (‘Writings on music’) (Athens, 1981–99) and Music (Athens, 1969), in addition to unpublished texts on harmony and counterpoint.

WORKS

(selective list)

Orch: Symphonic Triptych, 1963; Figuras, str orch, 1968; Projections, 19 insts, 1968, arr. orch, 1971; Tropic, 1968; Metaplassis A, 1969; Metaplassis B, 1970; Transitions, 1971; Orbis, pf, orch, 1975–6; Poem, vn, orch, 1995

Chbr and solo inst: Duo, vn, pf, 1962; Little Fantasia, pf, 1965; Peristrofi [Giros], 8 str, 1965; 3 Pieces, pf, 1965; Arioso, 9 str, 1967; Versi, cl, 1967; Actinia, wind qnt, 1969; Fragmento I, vc, pf, 1969; Fragmento II, fl, 1970; 7 Greek Folk Melodies, rec ens, 1970; Study I, pf, 1970; Fragment, fl, 1971; Str Qt, 1971; Study II, pf, 1971; Fancy for 6, fl, cl, b cl, tpt, vc, perc, 1972; Nocturne, pf, 1972; Study III, pf, 1973; Phasma [Spectrum], fl, pf, 1978; Horeftiko orama [Dance Vision], cl, trbn, vc, pf, perc, 1980; Skolion, pf, 1984; Kéladhos, pf, 1984–5; Plokes, 2 pf, 1985; 42 syrdoma kommatia [42 Short Pieces], pf, 1986–9; Dialogos, vn, pf, 1989; Triptych, pf, 1989; Anthémion, 2 tpt, hn, tbn, tuba, 1990; A-VE, fl, pf, 1990; Toccata, pf, 1990; Oktaedhron, gui, 1991; Prelude, Aria, Finale, fl, gui, 1991; Allegretto, fl, 1992; Diagramma, cl, va, 1992; Toccata and Ricercare, vc, 1992; Cantilena, vc, pf, 1993; 3 Intermezzi, pf, 1993; Prelude and Dance, cl, pf, 1993; Fantasia, vc, pf, 1994; Capriccio, d, fl, pf, 1996; 5 Miniatures, vn, 1996; 6 Monologues, fl, 1996; Scherzo-Notturno, fl, pf, 1996

Vocal: Carmina (Gk. folksongs), chorus, 1965; Europa Cantat III (Gk. folksongs), chorus, 1967; 2 Rilke Poems, chorus, 1967; 7 Songs (C. Cavafy), S/T, pf, 1981–3; 5 Songs (Cavafy, A. Thémos), S, pf, 1993; 12 Songs (Cavafy), Mez, pf, 1993–7; Rhapsody (Y. Voulgarakis), S, pf, 1994; Aesthematikos peripatos [Sentimental Promenade] (C. Liondakis), Mez, pf, 1997

Principal publishers: Gerig, Moeck, Universal, Möseler, Philippos Nakas, Nomos, Athens Music Society

BIBLIOGRAPHY

N. Slonimsky: ‘New Music in Greece’, MQ, li/1 (1965), 225–35

B. Schiffer: ‘Neue griechische Musik’, Orbis musicae, i (1971–2), 193–201, esp. 197

G. Leotsakos: ‘Ioannidis, Yannis’, Pangosmio viografiko lexico [Universal biographical dictionary], iv (Athens, 1988), 179 only

GEORGE LEOTSAKOS

Ioannotus, Camillus.

See Zanotti, Camillo.

Ionian.

The name assigned by Glarean in the Dodecachordon (1547) to the authentic mode on C, which uses the diatonic octave species c'–c'' divided at g' and consisting of a fourth species of 5th (tone–tone–semitone–tone) plus a third species of 4th (tone–tone–semitone), thus c'–d'–e'–f'–g' + g'–a'–b'–c''. With this octave species identical with the C major scale, the Ionian mode, together with its plagal counterpart, the Hypoionian, is essentially the same as the major mode of tonal music (see Tonality), in which the dominant lies a 5th above the tonic, or principal scale degree.

In the Middle Ages liturgical songs with a final written at c' were regarded as mode 6 transposed up a 5th. There were in principle no medieval modal forms with finals on C, but certain late-composed chants in mode 5 (e.g. the Marian antiphon Alma redemptoris mater) were often written a 4th lower in the Guidonian diatonic system, making them into authentic pieces on C. It is said that the C mode was called tonus (or modus) lascivus, the ‘frolicsome’ or ‘wanton’ mode, in the Middle Ages and considered apt only for secular music. However, there seems to be no direct evidence for this expression in theoretical sources. It appears to originate with Glarean's own reference to the ‘lascivam petulantiam’ (‘frivolous wantonness’) that the Ionian mode possessed according to the ancients, and with his use of the terms lasciva and lascivia to designate the ‘wanton’ use of B in chants of modes 5 and 6 (F modes) and 1 and 2 (D modes): this had the effect, in terms of his putatively reconstructed 12-mode system, of converting them from Lydian–Hypolydian and Dorian–Hypodorian to Ionian–Hypoionian and Aeolian–Hypoaeolian transposed, respectively.

Glarean also classified polyphonic music according to 12 rather than eight modes, and regarded pieces composed round a tonal centre of F and set in cantus mollis (i.e. with a one-flat signature) as embodying the transposition of the Ionian or Hypoionian mode; most 16th-century musicians, however, seemed to consider them as embodying modes 5 and 6 of the traditional set of eight, which from the very beginnings of medieval modal theory had required the prevalence of b over b for their fourth degree above the final, f; thus b corresponds to f' in the Ionian mode (see Lydian and Hypolydian).

HAROLD S. POWERS/R

Ion of Chios

(b c490 bce; d c422 bce). Greek tragic and lyric poet. He was active at Athens. He used a wide range of genres in poetry and was also noted for prose writings. The fragments of his tragedies (Nauck, nos.22–3, 39, 42 and 45) contain references to the music of Lydia – its psaltery players, hymns and auloi, and perhaps (the text is uncertain) a special type of aulos played together with the magadis. Ion described the Lydian aulos and the Mysian syrinx of Mount Ida (associated with the shepherd Paris) metaphorically as a cock, apparently to emphasize shrillness of tone, whereas according to Athenaeus's explanation (iv, 185a; Nauck, frag.42) the ‘deep [barus] aulos’ mentioned by him was Phrygian.

The few surviving lines of his lyric compositions, mainly dithyrambs, have no musical interest. A pair of elegiac couplets preserved in the Harmonic Introduction of Cleonides, however, have attracted a good deal of attention. The texture is obscure but might be translated as follows: ‘Eleven-stringed lyre, having a ten-step order / three consonant roads of harmonia, / Formerly all the Greeks raised a meager muse, / strumming thee seven-toned by fours’ (Cleonides 12 = Edmonds, frag.3). Considerable debate has centred on the precise meaning of the terms and phrases in this fragment. Some scholars have proposed that the ‘lyre’ is actually one of the triangular harps portrayed occasionally in 5th-century representations (see Maas, and Maas and Snyder), while others believe the first phrase reflects the practice of expanding the number of strings found on members of the lyre family (especially the phorminx and kithara). Some scholars take the ‘three consonant roads’ as a reference to three tetrachords, while others think it refers to some sort of ‘junction of roads’. In any event, the couplets must refer to the increasing complexity or ‘polychordia’ of Greek music to which Plato later objected in the Republic (iii, 399c–d). This ‘new style’ was closely associated with the poet-composer Timotheus of Miletus, and it is noteworthy that in the Spartan decree (preserved by Boethius in his De institutione musica, i.1; the authenticity of the decree has, however, been questioned), Timotheus is specifically charged with using an instrument having 11 strings.

WRITINGS

A. Nauck, ed.: Tragicorum graecorum fragmenta (Leipzig, 1865, 2/1889/R1964 with suppl by B. Snell), 736ff

J.M. Edmonds, ed. and trans.: Elegy and Iambus (London and Cambridge, MA, 1931/R), i, 428ff

A. von Blumenthal, ed.: Ion von Chios: die Reste seiner Werke (Berlin and Stuttgart, 1939)

M.L. West, ed.: Iambi et elegi graeci, ii (Oxford, 1972), 77ff

D.A. Campbell, ed. and trans.: Greek Lyric, iv (Cambridge, MA, and London, 1992), 348–69

BIBLIOGRAPHY

StrunkSR2, i, 35–46 [Cleonides, Harmonic Introduction]

T. Reinach: ‘Un fragment d'Ion de Chios’, Revue des études grecques, xiv (1901), 8–19

F. Jacoby: ‘Some Remarks on Ion of Chios’, Classical Quarterly, xli (1947), 1–17

F.R. Levin: ‘The Hendecachord of Ion of Chios’, Transactions of the American Philological Association, xcii (1961), 295–307

W.D. Anderson: Ehtos and Education in Greek Music (Cambridge, MA, 1966), 43–4, 223–4

G. Comotti: ‘L'endecacorde di Ione di Chio’, Quaderni urbinati di cultura classica, xiii (1972), 54–61

U. Duse: ‘La lira di Ione di Chio’, Quaderni urbinati di cultura classica, new ser., iv (1980), 113–23

J. Solomon: Cleonides: eisagōgē harmonikē: Critical Edition, Translation and Commentary (diss., U. of North Carolina, 1980), 332–5

M. Maas and J.M. Snyder: Stringed Instruments of Ancient Greece (New Haven, CT, 1989), 154–5

M. Maas: ‘Polychordia and the Fourth-Century Greek Lyre’, JM, x (1992), 74–88

M.L. West: ‘Analecta musica’, Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik, xcii (1992), 23–8

W.D. Anderson: Music and Musicians in Ancient Greece (Ithaca, NY, 1994), 109–11

WARREN ANDERSON/THOMAS J. MATHIESEN

Iorgulescu, Adrian

(b Bucharest, 6 July 1951). Romanian composer. He attended the Music Lyceum no.1 in Bucharest then studied composition with Stroe and Olah at the Bucharest Academy, graduating in 1974. Subsequently Iorgulescu taught music, joining the staff of the Academy in 1990 and becoming a professor in 1996. His doctoral thesis is entitled Timpul si comunicarea muzicală (‘Time and musical communication’, 1992). Vice-president then president of the Composers' and Musicologists' Union, in 1996 he co-founded the Romania Alternative Party and was elected to parliament. Post-serial techniques inform his earlier compositions, while in his String Quartet (1973) he combines these with melodic contours derived from folk music. Iorgulescu pursues his exploration of new sonic resources in the series Ipostaze (1971–82). In its textural complexity and stylistic diversity Alternanţe (1985) anticipates his Symphony no.3 (1988), which derives material from a Bach chorale. An extensive use of repetitive cycles characterizes the String Quartets no.3 (1987) and no.4 (1992).

WORKS

(selective list)

Orch: Ipostaze I, pf, orch, 1971; Sym. no.1 ‘Nebănuitele trepte’ [The Unsuspected Steps], 1975; Ipostaze II, cl, str, perc, 1978; Sym. no.2, 1980; Semnale [Signals], 1995

Chbr and solo inst: Sonata, 2 pf, 1973; Str Qt, 1973; 4 inscripţii sonore, pf, 1976; Ipostaze III, vc, wind insts, perc, 1979; Ipostaze IV, 3 perc groups, 1982; Str Qt no.2, 1983; Alternanţe, qnt, tape, 1985; Str Qt no.3, 1987; Str Qt no.4, 1992; Antifonie, perc, 1993

Vocal: După melci [Looking for Snails] (I. Barbu), chorus, 1975; Moşii [The Fair] (cant., I.L. Caragiale), 1978; Strigături I (trad. texts), women's chorus, 1986; Sym. no.3, women's chorus, org, 1988; Revuluţia (op, after Caragiale), 1991; Strigături II, chorus, 1994

BIBLIOGRAPHY

KdG (C.D. Georgescu)

G. Tartler: Melopoetica (Bucharest, 1984)

I. Anghel: ‘De la Caragiale la metamuzică: opera Revuluţia de Adrian Iorgulescu’, Muzica, new ser., iii/1 (1992), 28–52

OCTAVIAN COSMA

Iovenardi, Bartolomé.

See Jovernardi, Bartolomé.

Iowa, University of, School of Music.

The University of Iowa opened in Iowa City in 1855 and early offered music instruction; the school of music, in the college of liberal arts, was formally established in 1919 under Philip Greeley Clapp, who was its director until his death in 1954. Much of the pioneering work in musical aptitude testing was done there by Carl E. Seashore, who joined the psychology department in 1902 and was twice dean of the graduate college (1908–37, 1942–6). The school was one of the first in the USA to award graduate degrees for composition. In 1995 the music building was named to honour Himie Voxman, director of the school from 1954 to 1980; Voxman was succeeded by David Nelson.

The school has almost 550 students and about 50 instructors. Degrees are offered in performance, music education, theory, composition and musicology. The library holds 80,000 books and scores, 3000 microforms, 13,500 sound recordings and videos and 300 journal subscriptions. Special collections include 18th-century wind music on microforms, the Edwin Franko Goldman Band library and many English and Irish broadsides in the Piper folksong collection. In 1966 the school established a Center for New Music, and in 1980 an opera programme.

BRUCE CARR

Ipavec, Benjamin

(b Šveti Jurij, nr Celje, 24 Dec 1829; d Graz, 20 Dec 1908). Slovenian composer. He was a member of a musical family that included several gifted amateur composers, and he received his earliest instruction in music from his mother, a pianist and harpist. Educated in Celje and Graz, he also studied medicine in Vienna, and from 1871 to 1898 worked as a doctor in Graz. There he was for a time conductor of the student choral society Slovenija. He later took lessons in orchestration and counterpoint with Mayer.

Ipavec found it difficult to shake off certain Classical influences, so that even a late work like the Serenade for strings (1898) is still cast in a strong Classical mould, a tendency which can also be detected in some of his piano works. In his songs, however, he was able to create a true Romantic idiom; technically, and in their formal logic and expressiveness, these are his best works and the finest examples of Slovenian Romantic lieder. He also made valuable contributions to the Slovenian operatic stage with his operetta Tičnik (‘The Aviary’) and particularly with the lyric opera Teharski plemiči (‘The Noblemen of Teharje’).

WORKS

all MSS in SI-Ln

stage

Tičnik [The Aviary], operetta, 1862

Teharski plemiči [The Noblemen of Teharje], op, 1892

choral

Na Prešernovem grobu [By Prešeren’s Grave], cant., T, Bar, chorus, orch, 1872 (Ljubljana, 1903)

Vodniku [To Vodnik], cant., T, Bar, chorus, pf, 1889

Other unacc. choral pieces

songs

published in Ljubljana unless otherwise stated

Slovenske pesmi [Slovenian Songs], i (Graz, 1862), ii (Celje, 1864); Milotinke [Tender Songs], 3 vols. (1877); Nezakonska mati [The Unmarried Mother] (Graz, 1896); Kaj bi te vprašal [What should I ask you] (1900); Če na poljane rosa pade [If the dew fell on the fields] (1901); Pozabil sem mnogokaj [I have forgotten much] (1901); Romanca (1902); Iz gozda so ptice odplule [The birds flew away from the wood] (1904); Je pa davi slanca pala [Today the Frost fell] (1904); Oblaku [To a Cloud] (1905); Ciganka Marija [Marija the Gypsy] (1905); Menih [The Monk] (1906); Ob studencu [By the Well] (1906); Božji volek [The Cricket] (1907); Mak žari [The poppy glows] (1907); Pomladni veter [Spring Wind] (1908); V spominsko knjigo [For an Album] (1908); Na poljani [In a Field] (1909)

instrumental

Sonatina, pf, 1897

Serenade, str, 1898

BIBLIOGRAPHY

F. Rakuša: Slovensko petje v preteklih dobah [Singing in Slovenia in the past] (Ljubljana, 1890), 154–6

D. Cvetko: Musikgeschichte der Südslawen (Kassel, 1975), 160–61

M. Spendal: ‘Nekaj značilnosti samospevov Benjamina Ipavca’ [Some aspects of Ipavec's lieder], MZ, xiii (1977), 51–6

M. Spendal: Razvoj in značilnosti slovenskega romantičnega sampospeva [The Slovenian Romantic lied: its development and characteristics] (Maribor, 1981), 37–43

BOJAN BUJIĆ

Ipleer, Joseph.

See Riepel, Joseph.

Iporre Salinas, Humberto

(b Potosí, 28 Dec 1915; d Potosí, 7 Nov 1985). Bolivian pianist and composer. He studied privately with Juan Manuel Manzano and Eisner at the Escuela Normal in Sucre. He taught in several schools and in the Tomás Frías University School of Fine Arts in Potosí. For several years he conducted the Orquesta Cóndor, an amateur chamber orchestra with which he performed several of his own works. Among his larger compositions are La oración del mitayo, the Suite for piano, later arranged for chamber orchestra, and El sueño de la ñusta. He also wrote patriotic and educational songs and a great number of popular songs, including huaños (Potosino soy, El Chutillo and Chiri Huayrita), cuecas (Tu orgullo and Amorosa) and bailecitos (Potosina fiel y fina and Una palomita), many of which were published in Buenos Aires.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

A. Auza-León: Simbiosis cultural de la música boliviana (La Paz, 1989)

O. Rojas: Creadores de la música boliviana (La Paz, 1995)

CARLOS SEOANE

Ippolitov-Ivanov [Ivanov], Mikhail Mikhaylovich

(b Gatchina, nr St Petersburg, 7/19 Nov 1859; d Moscow, 28 Jan 1935). Russian composer, teacher and conductor. He was taught music at home and attended classes for the choirboys of St Isaac (1872–5). In 1875 he entered the St Petersburg Conservatory, where he studied the double bass. In 1879 he graduated from the classes of Iogansen (canon and fugue) and Rimsky-Korsakov (special orchestration). In the period 1879–80 he attended meetings of the Balakirev circle, and from 1880 to 1882 he continued his studies with Rimsky-Korsakov. In 1882 he moved to Tbilisi, Georgia, where he directed the academy of music and the local branch of the Russian Music Society, also conducting at the Opera. In 1893 he was appointed professor at the Moscow Conservatory, where he remained until his death, teaching harmony, orchestration and composition, and directing the institution between 1905 and 1922. He also taught composition at the Tbilisi Conservatory (1924–5), which was reorganized under his guidance. His pupils included Sergey Vasilenko. He was also active as a conductor: he directed the Russian Choral Society (1895–1901), the Mamontov Opera (1898–1906), the Zimin Opera and the Bol'shoy (from 1925). His repertory with the Mamontov and Zimin companies (in which Chaliapin sang) included the premières of Rimsky-Korsakov's The Tsar's Bride, The Tale of Tsar Saltan and Kashchey the Immortal; he also revived Boris Godunov at the Bol'shoy. During the 1920s and 30s he worked for the radio and edited a supplement called Muzïka dlya vsekh (‘Music for All’) for the magazine 30 dney. He was married to the singer Varvara Zarudnaya.

Throughout a long creative life Ippolitov-Ivanov maintained the standards of the Russian academic tradition; as Asaf'yev pointed out, he profited at an early stage from the examples set by Rimsky-Korsakov and Tchaikovsky. His stylistic taste and technical thought, which had both been formed in the 1880s, remained practically unchanged throughout the Revolution and right up until the 1930s. Not possessing a dazzling creative individuality he made no attempt to establish an original style. From Rimsky-Korsakov, in particular, he borrowed the notion of a folksong-based programmatic nationalism, as his early ‘spring overture’ Yar-khmel' shows; he was also influenced by Balakirev in his interest in the oriental, displayed in his operas Ruf' (‘Ruth’) and Izmena (‘Treachery’) as well as in the well-known suite Kavkazskiye ėskizï (‘Caucasian Sketches’). All that he inherited from Tchaikovsky was an elegance of phrasing and a song-like arioso; Ippolitov-Ivanov's opera Asya was composed mainly under the influence of Yevgeny Onegin. His last opera Poslednyaya barrikada (‘The Last Barricade’), is set at the time of the Paris Commune. Other notable features of Ippolitov-Ivanov's music include influences of the folk music of Georgia (in Caucasian Sketches and Iveriya) and Armenia (in Armyanskaya rapsodiya). Folk borrowings of this type developed in his work after the Revolution, when he turned to Uzbek, Kazakh, Turkmen, Turkish and Arabic music.

WORKS

(selective list)

operas

Ruf' [Ruth] (lyrical op/biblical scenes, prol., 3, D. Tsertelev, after A. Tolstoy and A. Ostrovsky), op.6, 1883–6, Tbilisi, 27 Jan 1887

Azra (3, P. Opochinin, after Moorish legend), 1890, Tbilisi Opera House, 16 Nov 1890 [score destroyed by composer]

Asya (lyrical op, 3, N. Manïkin-Nevstruyev, after I. Turgenev), op.30, Moscow, Solodovnikov, 28 Sept 1900

Izmena [Treachery] (dramatic op, 4, 5 scenes, after A. Yuzhin-Sumbatov), op.43, 1908–9, Moscow, Solodovnikov, 4 Dec 1910

Ole iz Nordlanda [Ole from the Northland] (4, Ippolitov-Ivanov, after M. Jersen), op.53, 1915, Moscow, Bol'shoy, 8 Nov 1916

Zhenit'ba [The Marriage] (musical comedy, 4, after N. Gogol), op.70, Moscow, Radio Theatre, 18 Oct 1931 [Act 1 by Musorgsky]

Poslednyaya barrikada [The Last Barricade] (3, 4 scenes, N. Krasheninnikov), op.74, 1933, unpubd

other works

Orch: Yar-Khmel', spring ov. after P. Mel'nikov-Pechersky, op.1, 1881, unpubd; Kavkazskiye ėskizï [Caucasian Sketches], suite no.1, op.10, 1894; Iveriya, suite no.2, op.42, ?1894–6; Armyanskaya rapsodiya [Armenian Rhapsody], op.48, 1895; Sym., e, op.46, 1907; Mtsïri [The Novice], sym. poem after M. Lermontov, op.54, 1922–3; Iz pesen Ossiana [From the Songs of Ossian], 3 musical pictures, op.56, 1925; Tyurkskiye fragmentï, suite no.3, op.62, ?1928; V stepyakh Turkmenistana [In the Steppes of Turkmenistan], suite no.4, op.65, ?1932–5, unpubd; Muzïkal'nïye kartinki Uzbekistana [Musical Pictures of Uzbekistan], suite no.5, op.69, ?1936, unpubd

Vocal: 2 zaprichastnïkh stikha [2 Verses for the Eucharist], op.29, chorus, unpubd; Liturgiya Ioanna Zlatousta [The Liturgy of St John Chrysostom], op.37, chorus, unpubd; 5 kheruvimskikh pesen [5 Cherubic Songs], op.38, unpubd; Gimn pifagoreytsev voskhodyashchemu solntsu [Hymn of the Pythagoreans to the Rising Sun] (A. Amfiteatrov), op.39, chorus, 10 fl, tuba, 2 hp, org ad lib (1904); 3 bibleyskikh stikhotvoreniya [3 Biblical Verses], op.40, 1v, pf (1904); 7 psalmov Davida [7 Psalms of David], op.41, 1v, pf/hp (1905); Izbrannïye molitvosloviya iz vsenoshchnogo bdeniya [Selected Prayers from the All-Night Vigil Service], op.43, chorus, unpubd; Apostol'skiy zaprichastnïy stikh [Apostolic Verse for the Eucharist], op.49, precentor, unacc. chorus, unpubd; Tropar'na prazdnovaniye v chest'yavleniya ikonï Bogoroditsï vo grade Kazani [Anthem for the Celebration in Honour of the Appearance of the Icon of the Virgin in Kazan], op.54, SATB, pf, unpubd; Gimn trudu [Hymn to Labour], op.59, chorus, orch, brass band; mass songs, marches, short pieces

Chbr and solo inst: 5 Little Pieces, op.7, pf; Pf Qt, op.9; Str Qt, a, op.13, 1894; Miniatyura na narodnïye armyanskiye temï [Miniature on Armenian Folk Themes], str qt (1955)

Principal publishers: Jurgenson, Muzgiz

WRITINGS

Gruzinskaya narodnaya pesnya i yeyo sovremennoye sostoyaniye [The Georgian folksong and its present status] (Moscow, 1895)

Ucheniye ob akkordakh, ikh postroyeniye i razresheniye [A study of chords, their construction and resolution] (Moscow, 1897)

‘Beseda o muzïkal'noy reforme v Turtsii’ [A conversation about the reform of music in Turkey], SovM (1934), no.12, p.85 only

Pyat'desyat let russkoy muzïki v moikh vospominaniyakh [50 years of Russian music in my reminiscences] (Moscow, 1934; Ger. trans., 1993)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

N. Kashkin: ‘Teatr i muzïka: “Asya”, novaya opera M.M. Ippolitova-Ivanova’ [The theatre and music: ‘Asya’, the new opera by Ippolitov-Ivanov], Moskovskiye vedomosti (25 Sept 1900)

I. Lipayev: ‘“Asya”, opera M. Ippolitova-Ivanova’, RMG (1900), no.41

Yu. Ėngel': ‘“Ole iz Nordlanda” Ippolitova-Ivanova’ [‘Ole from the Northland’ by Ippolitov-Ivanov], MS (1916–17), nos.9–10, pp.17–23

S.M. Chemodanov: M.M. Ippolitov-Ivanov (Moscow, 1927)

S.M. Chemodanov: M.M. Ippolitov-Ivanov: k 50-letiyu muzïkal'noy deyatel'nosti [For the 50th anniversary of his work in music] (Moscow, 1933)

S. Bugoslavsky: Ippolitov-Ivanov (Moscow, 1936)

L. Podzemskaya: M.M. Ippolitov-Ivanov i gruzinskaya muzïkal'naya kul'tura [Ippolitov-Ivanov and Georgian musical culture] (Tbilisi, 1963)

N. Sokolov, ed.: M.M. Ippolitanov-Ivanov: pis'ma, stat'i, vospominaniya [Letters, articles, reminiscences] (Moscow, 1986)

S. Neef: Handbuch der russischen und sowjetischen Oper (Kassel, 1989)

F.C. Lemaire: La musique du XXe siècle en Russie et dans les anciennes républiques soviétiques (Fayard, 1994)

INNA BARSOVA

Ira.

A term used in the Peruvian and Bolivian altiplano for one of a pair of hocketing Panpipes, each played by a different male musician. The ira is considered masculine and typically leads the ‘feminine’ panpipes, the arca.

Iradier [Yradier] (y Salaverri), Sebastián de

(b Lanciego, Alava, 20 Jan 1809; d Vitoria, 6 Dec 1865). Spanish composer. He was appointed organist first of S Miguel Arcángel in Vitoria (1825) and then of S Juan Bautista, Salvatierra (1827), which he won through competition, gaining ‘marks in excess of highest quality’ in sight-reading, prepared works and accompaniment. He received a leave of absence of three or four months from S Juan Bautista in July 1833, but never returned. In 1839 he was appointed to teach solfège at the Madrid Conservatory, a post he held until 1851, when he was succeeded by Juan Castellano.

In 1847 he collaborated with Cristóbal Oudrid and Luis Cepeda in the production of the zarzuela La pradera del Canal. In Paris, in 1855, he taught singing to the Spanish-born Empress Eugénie. His Spanish songs, many exploiting the Cuban habanera rhythm, became immensely successful in both Europe and the Americas, and were performed by such famous singers as Viardot and Patti. La paloma (Madrid, 1859, Paris, 1864) remains perhaps the most popular Spanish song ever written. Bizet adapted his song El arreglito for the habanera in the first act of Carmen; apparently he thought it was a folksong. On learning his mistake – it had been published in a French translation, along with 24 other songs, in Iradier’s Fleurs d’Espagne (Paris, 1864) – he added a note in the vocal score of Carmen acknowledging the source.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

MGG1

PazdírekH [incl. list of works]

W. Dean: Georges Bizet (London, 1965), 215, 228 [quotes music of El arregelito]

F. Sopeña Ibáñez: Historia crítica del Conservatorio de Madrid (Madrid, 1967), 248

D. Preciado: ‘Sebastián de Iradier (1809–1865)’, RdMc, vii (1984), 125–70

E. Casares, ed.: Francisco Asenjo Barbieri: Documentos sobre música española y epistolario, Legado Barbieri, ii (Madrid, 1988), 667

J.J. Fuld: The Book of World-Famous Music (New York, 1995), 420–21, 586

BRUCE CARR/DIONISIO PRECIADO/ROBERT STEVENSON

Irakere.

Cuban jazz and popular dance band. It was founded in 1969–72 in La Habana, and is recognized as one of the most significant musical ensembles to have emerged in Cuba since the 1959 Revolution. Founding members include pianist and leader Jesús Chucho Valdés, vocalist and percussionist Oscar Valdés (no relation), saxophonist Paquito D'Rivera, trumpet players Arturo Sandoval and Jorge Varona, bassist Carlos del Puerto, guitarist Carlos Emilio Morales and drummer Enrique Plá. Growing out of the Orquesta Cubana de Música Moderna (1967), these musicians experimented with new sounds based on jazz improvisation and Afro-Cuban percussion and rhythms. In 1972 the group was officially established under the name Irakere (a Yoruba word meaning vegetation and growth).

Through the 1970s and 80s, Irakere gained international acclaim for its innovative compositions, dynamic musical fusions and also the dazzling virtuosity of its soloists. Important works include the Misa negra (the Black Mass, based on Afro-Cuban sacred music) and collaborations with Cuban composer Leo Brouwer, in addition to several dance-oriented albums. A recording of 1978 performances at the Newport and Montreux jazz festivals won a US Grammy Award. Despite several changes in personnel and the departure of many prominent original members, Irakere continues under the direction of Chucho Valdés and remains one of Cuba's most distinguished jazz ensembles.

RECORDINGS

Misa negra, Messidor 15972 (1987)

Calzada del cerro, Vitral 4053 (1989)

Grandes momentos de Irakere, Egrem 5 (1991)

Babalú ayé, Bembé 2020 (1998)

LISE WAXER

Iran,

Islamic Republic of, [formerly Persia] (Per. Jomhuri-e-Eslami-e-Iran). Country in the Middle East. It has an area of about 1·65 million km², of which a vast portion is desert, and a population of 76·43 million (2000 estimate). Most Iranians are of Aryan stock and speak an Indo-European tongue, Farsi (or Persian). The official state religion since 1501 has been Shi‘a Islam, but there are also 850,000 Sunnis in Iran (mostly Kurdish, Baluchi and Turkmen people but also some Sunni minorities in Persian-speaking areas, e.g. southern Khorasan), as well as smaller groups of other faiths (over 100,000 Armenians and 60,000 Jews, about 20,000 Parsis, 20,000 Nestorians, 8500 Protestants etc.). Aside from Kurdish music, little music research has been carried out among the religious minorities in Iran (e.g. Armenian and Assyrian Christians, Zoroastrians, Jews (although see Jewish music, §III, 8(ii)) and Baha’is).

The name Persia is correctly confined to the period from 600 bce to 1935 ce, when the country was officially renamed Iran, but the name ‘Persia’ continued for some time to be used to designate the entire country (as well as the language). However, many scholars now prefer to use ‘Iran’ for the region throughout its history.

The vast territory of present-day Iran extends over a high plateau, separated from adjoining regions by the Zagros mountains in the west, the Elburz mountain chain in the north and the lower, more arid Eastern highlands in the east: most of the important urban centres lie to the north, west and south of the great Central desert (fig.1).

I. Pre-Islamic

II. Classical traditions

III. Regional and popular traditions

BO LAWERGREN (I), HORMOZ FARHAT (II), STEPHEN BLUM (III)

I. Pre-Islamic

5. Sassanian period, 224–651 ce.

2. 3rd millennium bce.

3. 2nd millennium bce.

4. 1st millennium bce.

1. Introduction.

The long history of music in Iran can be traced at least as far back as 3000 bce. The evidence is archaeological and textual, and some of the sources are here assembled as a first attempt to construct a music history of the region from its origins to the Arab conquest in 651 ce. Although Iranian languages and culture spread far beyond the borders of modern Iran, including parts of Trans-Caucasia, Central Asia, north-west India and Mesopotamia (see Frye, 1962, p.3), this article concentrates on the music of the heartland, the region between the lowlands east of the Tigris and west of the Indus.

Iran means ‘land of the Aryans’, and the name owes its origins to the tribes that arrived in the area in the early 3rd millennium bce. The name Persia comes from Parsa or Pars, a region roughly equivalent to the modern province of Fars, which, together with other areas of western Iran, was settled by Persian and Median tribes during the 1st millennium bce.

Geographically, ancient Iran was split into an eastern and western part by the deserts of Dasht-e Kavir and Dasht-e Lut (fig.2), and this division also affected culture, including music. This is noticeable as early as 2000 bce when western people, the Elamites, favoured string instruments while eastern inhabitants favoured Bactrian trumpets. The split still remained three millennia later when Islamic harps differed distinctly in eastern and western Iran (Lawergren, MGG2, ‘Harfen’, Abb.10).

The Elamites were the main western people between 2350 and 650 bce. Their territory lay on the plains surrounding the city of Susa and penetrated up the Zagros mountains where Madaktu and Kul-e Fara were prominent centres. Mesopotamia, occupying the river banks of the Euphrates and Tigris and their tributaries, lay on the western border. Elamites and Mesopotamians (successively Sumerians, Babylonians and Assyrians) were ethnically distinct, spoke different languages and were often at war. The ebb and flow across the border between Elam and Mesopotamia is not always well understood, but around 2000 bce many cultural manifestations point to strong Mesopotamian influences on Elam, one example being the spread eastwards of bull lyres from the dominant power of Sumer.

Less understood are the early people of eastern Iran, but cultural features of the northern regions (Bactria and Margiana) appear to have travelled southwards between 2300 and 1600 bce into eastern Iran, but without crossing into the western region, for example, the Bactrian trumpets (see §2(iii) below). By the 9th century bce, new peoples, the Medes and the Persians (Parsans), had entered the region from Central Asia but continued moving westwards. During the 560s several Persian and Iranian groups led by King Cyrus II ‘the Great’ (559–529 bce) defeated the Medes and captured western Iran and Mesopotamia. In 546 bce Cyrus united all his lands into a single territory, known as the Achaemenid empire after Achaemenes, a mythical ancestor of the Persians. This empire, which by about 500 bce extended from the Balkans to northern Egypt and the Indus, lasted until it, in turn, was conquered by Alexander the Great (d 323), who destroyed its capital, Persepolis, in 330 and placed the region under Hellenistic control. Under Alexander's successors, Iran became part of the Seleucid empire. From 323 bce Iran was ruled by the Parthians to the north-east until 226 ce (for this period, see Parthian Empire), when the Sassanians, a people of southern Iran, created an empire based on that of the Achaemenids. It reached its fullest extent in the late 6th century and saw the establishment of Zoroastrianism as the chief religion, but fell to the Arabs in 642 ce.

Unlike Mesopotamia, ancient Iran has left few texts dating from the period under discussion. Although both cultures used cuneiform characters, this system of writing was not as well suited to the Elamite language as to Sumerian and Akkadian in Mesopotamia. The few surviving Elamite texts are of little musical interest. Although Iranian literature gradually increased, it was written on perishable materials; numerous clay seals (bullae) have survived, but the enclosed texts are lost. Mesopotamian texts, however, survived, being largely written on clay. The Sassanian period has left fragments of writing in the Pahlavi language, but most information comes from later Muslim authors writing in New Persian or Arabic. Because of the paucity of contemporary texts, evidence of ancient Iranian music is based primarily on archaeological finds. Objects take the centre stage, but music and the contexts of music performance begin to emerge if a comparative approach is adopted, particularly with regard to Mesopotamia.

2. 3rd millennium bce.

(i) Arched harps.

The arched harp is one of the first complex instruments to appear in the archaeological records of Iran dating from about 3300–3100 bce; in Mesopotamia the earliest known evidence for such instruments is slightly later (c3000 bce), but, given the uncertainties of dating and the scarcity of the material, it is impossible to determine in which region this harp appeared first. Moreover, it is likely that the instrument had existed some time before it was depicted in art.

Iranian sources show different contexts for the use of arched harps from those of Mesopotamia. Iranian representations from the 3rd millennium bce depict harps played in complex rituals. The scene in fig.3a shows a harpist performing with a drummer, a singer and a wind player. The other objects are pots, and their large variety suggests an environment with more cultic overtones than a simple meal eaten by the person seated on the right.

The harp in fig.3b appears in a scene crowded with humans, deities, snakes, birds, animal parts and flora; the exact significance of this composition remains elusive (for an interpretation, see Porada, 1965, pp.41–2). The main figure is a seated goddess with snakes rising from her shoulders. The harp, which appears above her head, lacks a player, suggesting that the association between these instruments and religious rite was so strong in ancient Iranian society that the player was superfluous. It is likely that the harp had a symbolic function. Many of the elements, including the snake goddess (or god), are also present in fig.3c. In Mesopotamia, harps were shown in less complex rituals, as accompanying officiants who brought offerings to kings and gods (e.g. on the ‘Standard of Ur’; Rashid, 1984, pl.11). Such musical ‘presentation scenes’ became popular throughout the Middle East west of Iran. After the 3rd millennium bce, arched harps disappeared from the Middle East, being replaced by angular harps (see Harp, §II, 3(v)).

(ii) Bull lyres.

Large lyres with a bull's head on one side flourished primarily in Mesopotamia but were also known in adjacent regions, including Elam. Many ancient lyres have been excavated at the southern Mesopotamian site of Ur (2450 bce; fig.4a; Rashid, 1984, pp.29–41; see also Mesopotamia, fig.3), but pictorial evidence shows nearly identical instruments from other sites in Mesopotamia and Elam, including Susa (fig.4b). The Iranian sources, like those of Mesopotamia, display strong associations between animals and music, with some players taking the form of animals. The small size and poor quality of representations of bull lyres drawn outside Mesopotamia, however, makes it impossible to distinguish Iranian and Mesopotamian instruments. Since these lyres and their animal associations are similar throughout the whole region, it is difficult to be certain of their origin. Most likely, they first appeared in Mesopotamia since this region was militarily dominant and had elaborate rituals involving music on instruments that ‘lowed like bulls’.

(iii) Trumpets.

Many small trumpet-like objects dating from between 2200 and 1750 bce have recently been brought to light by clandestine excavations near ancient oases in Bactria and Margiana in eastern Iran (modern southern Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan and northern Afghanistan). The sizes and shapes of these objects are similar to gold, silver or copper ‘trumpets’ already known from documented excavations in more southerly parts of Iran (two from Astarabad, three from Tepe Hissar and one from Shahdad). The Bactrian objects belong to a wider assemblage recently defined as the ‘Bactrian-Margiana Archaeological Complex’ (BMAC; see Hiebert, 1994, p.376) and dated between 2200 and 1750 bce. Although the trumpet-like objects have not until now been considered part of that assemblage, they probably shared its general characteristics. The dates of the burials suggest that this kind of trumpet originated in the Bactria-Margiana region and spread gradually into the southern parts of eastern Iran (ibid., p.374).

The trumpet-like objects come in three basic shapes. All have a short tube expanding to a flared end, with a total length of between six and 12 cm and a tube diameter of about one cm. On one type the tube is decorated with reliefs of faces, often mounted several abreast (fig.5a–c). The second type has a bulbous sphere instead of heads (fig.5d–e). The third type has no face or bulb. The finely sculpted faces and the quality of the materials indicate that such instruments were élite objects. Some were made of gold or silver, others of copper-rich bronze. One of the Tepe Hissar finds (fig.5e) consists of two overlapping layers: an inner silver trumpet covered by an outer gold trumpet about one mm thick.

Although their shapes are trumpet-like, some scholars have suggested alternative interpretations: perhaps the objects were stands meant to be placed with their broad ends downwards, an arrangement that would bring the faces vertical; perhaps they were funnels or spouts. But such mundane objects seem unlikely considering the precious materials and the extraordinary workmanship. Hakemi suggested that a trumpet of the second type found at Shahdad may have been joined to a long wooden tube, which has since decayed (1997, p.635). Such contraptions are unnecessary, for the unaltered trumpets can produce a good sound.

Bactrian trumpets may not have been the first trumpets in the Middle East. A crudely sculpted object on a stone relief from Khafagi in Mesopotamia (Rashid, 1984, p.61) is probably earlier; it appears to be a 50 cm-long conical trumpet without the flared end.

In date and provenance the BMAC is close to the origin of Indo-Iranian mythology, in particular Zoroastrianism (Boyce, 1984, pp.1, 8, 11). Scholars have tried to connect Zoroastrian dualistic concepts to the visual symbols used in the art of the BMAC (Hiebert, 1994, p.374), but at present the association is entirely speculative. Bactro-Iranian trumpets may offer more solid evidence associated with the Zoroastrian myth about Yīma, mankind's first king, who reigned during a Golden Age when weather was fair and sickness and death were unknown. According to the myth, which has ancient roots but was committed to writing only about 1000 ce, at the onset of a severe winter Yīma's god, Ahura Mazda, ordered him to bring plants, animals and humans into a shelter. To help him, the god gave Yima two implements: a golden sufrā (‘trumpet’, see Duchesne-Guillemin, 1979, pp.540–41) and a gold-plated astrā (‘whip’). The myth implies that the instrument was used to call animals, a procedure still used by hunters when stalking their quarry and a task well suited to Bactrian trumpets with their high-pitched tessitura and flexible pitch. Moreover, many of the ancient trumpets are golden. The divine association could easily have caused them to multiply as cult objects. (The shofar, a much larger – and later – trumpet, is entirely confined to cultic use.)

3. 2nd millennium bce.

(i) Angular harps.

Arched harps disappeared from the Middle East, about 1900 bce, when angular harps spread throughout the region. Shapes and proportions were everywhere similar except in western Iran (Elam), where smaller models flourished during the 2nd millennium and larger ones during succeeding millennia. Angular harps could be played with vertical or horizontal strings. In either case, the harps had similar bodies but vastly different numbers of strings and playing techniques. Vertical harps usually had more than 20 strings plucked by both hands; horizontal harps had about nine strings struck with a plectrum held in the right hand and damped by the fingers of the left hand positioned behind the strings (Lawergren and Gurney, 1987, p.51).

The main sources of information are terracotta plaques. In Mesopotamia horizontal harps were shown only with the player and harp in profile. Vertical harps were shown both in profile, and as front views with the player and harp en face (fig.6a–b). However, the latter could not be depicted realistically, for the strings would have to be lined up into a thin sheet protruding towards the viewer, and these would easily be damaged. As a result, strings were hardly modelled at all, although the rib to which they were tied is always shown running along the front of the harp, and the protruding rod at the bottom is contracted into a short knob. Both side and front views, however, show the same playing position, size and shape of the instrument; they are certainly identical harps. Both views show harps with slightly waisted bodies. Elamite representations adopt the same pose as the Mesopotamian front views, but the harps are much smaller (fig.6c). Horizontal harps from Elam are also small, but depicted differently from their Mesopotamian counterparts (fig.6d): the harp is always shown from the side while the player faces the viewer (fig.6e). To produce this composite pose, the harp body was turned parallel to the player's stomach. Unlike the Mesopotamian players of horizontal harps, Elamite harpists do not appear to line up their horizontal harps along the direction of movement, but this may, again, be an attempt to avoid a thin protruding part on the plaque.

In eastern Iran a horizontal harp is shown with normal size at this time (Shahr-e Sokhta, see Harp fig.4b) and the same large size is shown a millennium later at Kul-e Fara and Madaktu (see fig.7 below).

(ii) Lutes.

The first lutes appeared in 2300 bce in Mesopotamia, a millennium after the first harps; another millennium later lutes had become the dominant string instruments in western Iran.

Terracotta plaques from Susa often show lutenists as nude women and grotesque males. These may be musicians in a social class below those attached to courts and temples. The size of lutes increased during the 2nd millennium bce (Lawergren and Kilmer, MGG2, ‘Mesopotamien’, Abb.22–3). Depictions on Iranian bronze beakers from the 10th and 9th centuries bce show lutes that correspond to a length of 140 cm (see Muscarella, 1975, figs.5 and 12). During the 1st millennium bce the lutes largely disappeared from Iranian art, but the instrument must have survived nevertheless, since it reappeared in the 1st millennium in many different forms. It may have existed outside the realm of élite society, largely neglected by art.

See also Lute (ii), §1.

4. 1st millennium bce.

(i) Elamite harp ensembles.

Angular harps continued to appear on the art of this period and formed the core of Elamite royal ensembles at Madaktu and Kul-e Fara (fig.7). A depiction of the former occurs on an Assyrian wall relief from Nineveh (c650 bce; now in the British Museum) showing the banquet arranged to celebrate King Ashurbanipal's defeat of the Elamite army at the provincial town of Madaktu. The scene shows the exodus from Madaktu and departure of the Elamite court ensemble (fig.7b). At the rear 15 women and children wail and clap their hands; in the front are players of 11 melody instruments: seven vertical angular harps, two horizontal angular harps and two double pipes. Many instruments play simultaneously, possibly in some type of heterophony. Although Madaktu was only a provincial capital, it was large enough to support a substantial court ensemble. Susa, the main capital, probably had an even larger ensemble, but no depiction of it is known.

The largest collection of Elamite musical instruments is shown at the provincial site of Kul-e Fara (900–600 bce), which lies in a narrow valley surrounded by cliff walls carved with numerous reliefs. Three of the reliefs show groups of harps in various combinations. Although some of the carvings are severely eroded, surviving details allow several different kinds of harp to be distinguished (fig.7a). The first group (Kul-e Fara I) has been known for a century, but Kul-e Fara III and IV were published more recently (de Waele, 1989). Angular harps dominate, but there is a remarkable variety of combinations. Horizontal (H) and vertical (V) harps are grouped in the following patterns:

Kul-e Fara I: (square frame drum) + V + H

Kul-e Fara III: V + V + V

Kul-e Fara IV: V + V + H; V + V + H

Group IV is drawn on an uneven surface, and it is difficult to determine whether it shows a single group of six players or two sub-groups with three players in each. Since a leader seems to be at the front, the former interpretation is more likely.

Unlike other Iranian depictions of vertical angular harps (of which those of Madaktu are typical), those found at Kul-e Fara show different arrangements of the ornamental tassels hanging from the rod. Group IV lacks tassels altogether.

(ii) Royal and ritual music.

During the 3rd millennium bce, music was often shown in religious scenes, but sources from the next two millennia begin to show it in wider contexts. A metal bowl, dating from c650 bce, found at Arjan, Elam, shows a lively scene (fig.8) with a seated king entertained by an ensemble of musicians, dancers, stilt walkers and acrobats, while cooks prepare food and drink, and others carry jars or pots. The ensemble consists of a lyre, two angular harps, a set of double pipes, a lute and perhaps small percussion. It is thought to be a purely secular occasion, although the absence of texts to support this interpretation makes certainty impossible.

Perhaps the most remarkable scene of music-making in the ancient Middle East is found on a Hittite vase from Inandık dated a millennium earlier (see Anatolia, fig.7). The scene has many features in common with that on the Arjan bowl but is interpreted as ritual activity. There are 15 instrumentalists playing six thick lyres (a giant one requires two players), two long-necked lutes and six pairs of hand-held cymbals. Statuettes of an ensemble (lute and cymbals) stand on top of a broad pedestal, and another pedestal (or altar) supports a pair of bull statuettes. Beneath is a depiction of a real bull with a knife at his throat. Acrobats bounce and tumble, while other participants cook and scurry about with jars and pots. A semi-nude couple copulate, an act interpreted as the sacred ritual of hieros gamos (Gk.: ‘sacred marriage’).

Whatever the interpretations of these two bustling scenes, they provide lively testimony on the contexts of ancient music in the Middle East. Many aspects of music-making were probably similar throughout the region, but the written documents are relatively few and rarely permit general conclusions or regional differentiation. When there is ample textual evidence in one area (as with the use of music in Hittite rituals; see Gurney, 1977, pp.33–4), there may be no corresponding information in another – as with the lack of texts in ancient Iran.

(iii) Achaemenid period, 550–331 bce.

There is little contemporary information on music during this time. Drawing on later texts, Boyce concluded that minstrels had flourished and held privileged positions at court (Boyce, 1957, pp.20–21). Likewise, there is no pictorial evidence from Iran itself, but a musical artefact influenced by Achaemenid culture has recently emerged from China: a key used to tune the qin-zither during the Warring States period (5th–4th centuries bce) was decorated with a bull-man resembling the large bull-men atop architectural pillars at the Achaemenid capital of Persepolis (Lawergren, 1997, and 2000). Such long-distance musical influence on China was facilitated by horse-riders travelling along the east–west expanse of the Eurasian steppes.

Greek writers have left much information on the Persians of the Achaemenid period, some of which concerns music. Herodotus remarked on Achaemenid priests who did not perform their rites to ‘aulos music’ (Histories, i.132). Athenaeus mentioned a court singer who sang a warning to the king of the Medes of the acquisitive plans of Cyrus II. Xenophon, who visited Persia in 401 bce, tells of the great number of singing women at the Achaemenid court (Cyropaedia, iv.6.11; v.1.1; v.5.2; v.5.39). Athenaeus related that the Macedonian general Parmenius captured the 329 singing girls belonging to the court of Darius III (Sophists at Dinner, xiii.608) and that a royal officer at Babylon had 150 singing girls at his table (xii.530). Because Greek writers are fairly unanimous, they should probably be trusted in their account of the many singing girls. The tradition of women musicians entertaining men continued in the Islamic period by the tradition of Qayna girls. They were uneasily tolerated by the faithful, as was their music.

5. Sassanian period, 224–651 ce.

The evidence concerning music in this period is more substantial than that from earlier eras, in particular relating to the Zoroastrian religion, which had already been adopted as the state religion by the Achaemenids and restored by the Sassanians after a brief interlude of Hellenism under the Parthians (see Parthian Empire).

One Zoroastrian text has already been mentioned in connection with Bactrian trumpets (see §1(iii) above). It is part of the Avesta, the holy book of the faith, preserved orally and not written down until the 5th century ce; the oldest surviving copy dates to the 14th century. The earliest part of the Avesta is the collection of gāthā, some of which go back to the 2nd millennium bce (Boyce, 1984, p.8; Mallory, 1989, p.37). The language of these texts is similar to that of the Indian Rgveda, and other features, such as some deity names, are also shared. The correspondence indicates a common origin of tribes speaking Indo-Aryan languages, and their homeland is considered to have been on the steppes of south Russia. One branch moved into north India around 2000 bce, when the Indus valley civilization (including its language) came to an end. Another branch probably entered the Bactria-Margiana region of eastern Iran (for indications of the language change there, see Hiebert and Lamberg-Karlovsky, 1992, pp.8–10). The gāthā were hymns similar to the Vedic Samhitās, which are known to have been sung or chanted (Gonda, 1975, pp.313–16).

Modern translations render gāthā variously as ‘hymns’, ‘poems’, or ‘psalms’. Although there is no direct evidence that the gāthā were sung, songs played a prominent role in early Zoroastrian imagination, and it is likely that they were chanted. The Zoroastrian paradise (garōdmān) was known as the ‘House of Song’ (Boyce, 1984, p.28), where music induced perpetual joy. Similar ideas also entered Mahayana Buddhism where sūtras glowingly describe music as one the chief delights of Paradise (see Lawergren, 1994, pp.234–8). For Zoroastrians, this music begins when a righteous person dies. The soul of the deceased chants for three days outside the head of the corpse (Boyce, 1984, p.81). In the 5th century bce Herodotus claimed that Zoroastrian magi (priests) chanted at sacrifices (Histories i.132).

Although no instruments were used in formal worship, Zoroastrians used them to add a convivial element to the celebrations of holy days, ‘putting to rout, for a moment at least, the gloomy forces of darkness’ (Boyce, 1992, p.104). In the late 9th century ce a Muslim scholar observed that pillars were built before the time of No Rooz (New Year):

One column was sown with wheat, one with barley, another with rice, the other ones with lentils, beans … millet, sorghum … And the harvest thereof was never gathered but with song and music and mirth, which happened on the sixth day after the beginning of No Rooz. Among the presents which the kings of different nations gave to the Persian kings were the rarest wonders of their lands … Ministers, chief scribes and private courtiers gave gold and silver bowls set with jewels and bowls of silver enriched with gold … Wise men gave their wisdom; poets, their verses … (trans. Boyce, 1984, p.70).

Some silver bowls associated with Zoroastrianism were decorated with musical scenes (see fig.10 below).

According to al-Mas'udī (d c957), music was greatly esteemed at court and the founder of the Sassanid dynasty, King Ardeshir I (d 241), gathered singers, virtuosos and others involved with music into a special courtly class. Two centuries later, Varahran V (421–39; also known as Bahram Gur) elevated this class to the highest rank (Christensen, 1936, p.31). He was fond of music and recruited 12,000 singers from India (said to be ancestors of the Loris). But music was cherished even more highly by Khosrow II (591–628), whose reign was a veritable Golden Age of Iranian music. He is shown among musicians on a large cliff relief at Taq-e Bostan in western Iran. The king stands in a boat shooting with a bow and arrows and is accompanied by a band of harpists, who sail in his boat and an escorting one; in addition numerous shore-bound musicians play on a platform. It is a remarkable scene where the boats are shown at two successive moments on the same panel, and the harps are rendered in considerable detail.

There are many tales about the musicians at Sassanian courts. Since these were illustrated in hundreds of manuscripts centuries later, the stories are as important to Persian musical iconography as the Bible was to the European Middle Ages. Most stories were recorded in the Shāhnāmeh (‘Book of Kings’) composed by Ferdowsi about 1010. This national epic was based on old bardic tales preserved orally in eastern Iran at a time when the minstrel tradition had ceased in western Iran. Another source, Nezami's Khamseh (‘Five poems’) of 1190, is partly derived from the Shāhnāmeh. Of its five sections, two are concerned with music: Haft paykār (‘Seven portraits’) and Khosrow va Shirin. The former tells of Bahram Gur and his favourite mistress, the Greek harpist Āzādeh. They became the most popular musical image of Persia, being depicted in Sassanian art after 650 and in Islamic miniature paintings between about 1300 and 1600 (Ettinghausen, 1979, p.29).

Another story in the Haft paykār concerns Bārbad, the sweet-voiced lutenist who lived during the reign of Khosrow II. He outwitted the envious harpist Sarkash (also called Nakisā) and became the king's favourite. There are many other stories, such as the one about Khosrow II who fell in love with his singing girl Shirin, and some may be rooted in reality. Bārbad, for example, is generally assumed to have been an historical person. A variety of later texts affirm his fame as composer and lutenist and acclaim him the ‘founder of Persian music’. According to one tradition he died from poisoning at the hand of Sarkash, who had stayed on as a minor court musician.

The Sassanians employed large number of instruments, many of which are known only in name. In the story known as ‘Khosrow and his Page’ the king asks: ‘Which musician is the finest and the best?’ and the boy diplomatically mentions the players of all instruments he knew: chang (which he calls the foremost), vin, vinkannār, mushtaq, tunbūr, barbat, nād, dumbalak, rasn and 16 others (Unvala, 1917, pp.62–3). The identity of the chang is known, but many others are as yet unidentified, and sound-similarities in translations cannot be relied upon. Barbat, for example, has often been translated barbitos (e.g. Boyce, 1957, p.23); but the latter is an ancient Greek lyre not used after 400 bce, and the barbat cannot be the barbitos (although the name may be of Greek origin, probably via Byzantium).

Iconographic sources provide more reliable information on instruments. Aerophones include the reed pipe (sornā; see Surnāy) and the double trumpet. The Chinese mouth organ (see Sheng), shown on a wall relief from Taq-e Bostan and a silver cup from Kalar Dasht in the Mazandaran (6th century ce; Archaeological Museum, Tehran), flourished briefly in Iran and, like some other foreign instruments and instrumental details, probably owed its introduction to traffic along the Silk Route; it comprised five, six or seven pipes in a wind reservoir with finger holes and reeds and was known in Iran as the mushtaq. String instruments were the horizontal angular harp (possibly vīn), the short-necked lute (barbut), which had between four and six strings, and the chang – a ‘light vertical angular harp’, a type that could have been invented in Iran, Central Asia or China (see Harp, §1). The membranophones included the kettledrum (kūs), small drum (tās), frame drum and hourglass drum (kūba), which was related to Central Asian drums. To the idiophonic group belonged the forked cymbals (chaġāna), related to Roman cymbals, and pairs of wooden clappers (or castanets, chahār pāra).

Although little literary evidence has survived from the Sassanian period, some insight into the nature of music may be gained from, for example, the writings of Qutb al-Dīn (Mahmūd ibn Mas‘ūd al-Shīrāzī; d 1311). According to him, seven musical modes were recognized during the Sassanian era, including sakāf, mādārūsnān, sāykād, sīsum and jūbarān (Farmer, 1926). The names are probably corrupt and lack musical significance. Christensen (1936, p.38) tentatively translates some as ‘sixth’, ‘plectrum’ and a place name. Qutb al-Dīn also asserted that Bārbad (fig.9) composed seven royal modes (khosrovāni), 30 derivative modes (lahn), one for each day in the Zoroastrian month, and 360 melodies or airs (dastān), one for each day in the Zoroastrian year (neglecting the five intercalary days). Other Muslim writers (e.g. Nezami) name some of the tunes, but do not give the lyrics. Christensen has suggested (1936, pp.44–5) that a manuscript found at Turpan (Xinjiang province, China) contains the words of a poem composed and sung by Bārbad or one of his contemporaries. It is an odd text found in a trove of Manichaean manuscripts, and has the song Khvarshēdh ī rōshan (‘The shining sun’) written in the Pahlavi language used at the time of Bārbad. Its four lines, each with 11 syllables, reads:

The shining sun, the beaming full moon
resplendent and beaming behind the trunk of a tree;
the eager birds strut about it full of joy,
the doves and the colourful peacocks strut about.

The title is reminiscent of the name of a Sassanian melody, Arāyishn ī khvarshēdh (‘The beauty of the sun’), known from Muslim authors. The small difference, Christensen suggests, could have arisen when the Pahlavi text was combined with New Persian by Islamic writers.

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E. de Waele: ‘Musicians and Musical Instruments on the Rock Reliefs in the Elamite Sanctuary of Kul-e Farah (Izeh)’, Iran, xxvii (1989), 29–38

J.P. Mallory: In Search of the Indo-Europeans; Language, Archaeology and Myth (London, 1989)

M. Boyce: Zoroastrianism: its Antiquity and Constant Vigour (New York, 1992)

F.T. Hiebert and C.C. Lamberg-Karlovsky: ‘Central Asia and the Indo-Iranian Borderlands’, Iran, xxx (1992), 1–15

C.C. Lamberg-Karlovsky and F. Hiebert: ‘The Relation of the Finds from Shahdad to Those of Sites in Central Asia’, Journal of Ancient Near Eastern Society of Columbia University, xxi (1992), 135–40

Y. Majidzadeh: ‘The Arjan Bowl’, Iran, xxx (1992) 131–44

F. Hiebert: ‘Production Evidence for the Origins of the Oxus Civilization’, Antiquity, lxviii (1994), 372–87

B. Lawergren: ‘Buddha as a Musician’, Artibus Asiae, liv (1994), 226–40

F.A.M. Wiggermann: ‘Discussion’, Man and Images in the Ancient Near East, ed. E. Porada (London, 1995), 77–92

Art d'Asie, art d'Orient et Islam antiques, Drouot, 7–8 October 1996 (Paris, 1996) [sale catalogue]

P. Delougaz and H.J. Kantor: Chogha Mish, i: The First Five Seasons of Excavations 1961–1971 (Chicago, 1996)

A. Hakemi: Shahdad, trans. S.M.S. Sajjadi (Rome, 1997)

B. Lawergren: ‘To Tune a String: Dichotomies and Diffusions between the Near and Far East’, Vltra Terminvm Vagari: studi in onore di Carl Nylander, ed. B. Magnusson and others (Rome, 1997), 175–192

B. Lawergren: ‘String Instruments’, Music in the Age of Confucius, ed. J.F. So (Seattle, 2000)

2. Theory of intervals and scales.

II. Classical traditions

Very few countries have such a long history of national and political identity as Iran. As a great empire, Persia was a meeting-place of diverse cultural elements. Yet it maintained its own marked individuality. Famed for its creative genius, Islamic Persia has exerted powerful influences on other civilizations and, in turn, absorbed the impact of contact with other cultures. In music, the Persian element was the dominant ingredient in the amalgam known as the Islamic musical tradition of the Middle Ages. This tradition relied on ancient Greek theoretical concepts but leant heavily on pre-Islamic Persian musical practices. The musical nomenclature of the Middle East, whether in Turkic- or Arabic-speaking regions, is largely Persian, and throughout this vast region most musical instruments have had earlier Persian prototypes.

See also Arab music, §I and Islamic religious music.

1. History.

3. The modal system.

4. Composed music.

5. Musical instruments and vocal techniques.

6. Music education and performance.

7. Modern developments.

1. History.

Persian classical music developed from the music of urban and courtly tradition. The first substantial historical evidence on music relates to the Sassanian dynasty (224–651 ce; see §I above). The Persians possessed a high musical culture where musicians enjoyed an exalted position at the imperial court. Emperor Khosrow II (ruled 591–628) was patron to many musicians, among whom were Rāmtin, Bāmshād, Nakisa or Sarkash and Bārbad. The most illustrious, Bārbad (fig.9 above), is known to have devised seven royal modes (khosrovāni), 30 derivative modes (lahn) and 360 melodies (dastān), corresponding to the number of days in the week, month and the year of the Zoroastrian calendar. The nature and calendrical applications of these modes and melodies are not known, but some names have survived in the writings of early Islamic authors, such as al-Kindī (c801–c866), Ibn Zayla (d 1048), and particularly through the epic poem Khosrow va Shirin (‘Khosrow and Shirin’), one of the five sections of the Khamseh (‘Five poems’) by Nezami (d c1203).

The Arab conquest of the Persian empire begain in 642 and eventually resulted in the incorporation of Iranian nations within the greater Islamic Empire. With the ascendancy of the Abbasid dynasty (750–1258) and transfer of the seat of the Caliphate from Damascus to Baghdad, Persian political and cultural influences became dominant. The Arabs valued Persian culture highly and soon Persian musicians and musical scholars were to be found throughout the Muslim world. Among the outstanding were Ibrāhīm al-Mawsilī (742–804) and his son Ishāq al-Mawsilī (767–850), Mohammad Rāzī (d c923) and al-Fārābī (d 950). The last was the most celebrated of early scholars; his famous Kitāb al-mūsīqī al-kabīr (‘Great book on music’) contains discussions on musical instruments and on musical theory, including intervals, modes, scales and rhythmic cycles (see Arab music, §I, 2(ii)).

Al-Fārābī’s investigations were founded on theories expounded by classical Greeks, as were those of his illustrious follower Ibn Sīnā (Avicenna) (d 1037). In addition to discussing modes and rhythmic cycles, Ibn Sīnā considered the notion of harmonic consonance and dissonance, the concept of ethos (ta’thir) and the therapeutic effects of music. Significantly, the names of the 12 primary modes as described by Ibn Sīnā are still found among the modes of contemporary Persian classical music, although they do not necessarily identify the modal schemes of Ibn Sīnā’s time. These 12 are rahāvi, hosseini, rāst, busalik, zanguleh, oshāq, hejāzi, erāq, esfāhān, navā, bozorg and mokhālef.

In the tradition of classical Greece, medieval Islamic scholarship concerned itself with music as an aspect of mathematical philosophy. As such, most men of learning took an interest in musical theory. In the succeeding period, the most important of many writers on music was Safī al-Dīn (d 1294). His Kitāb al-adwār (‘Book of cycles’) and Risāla al-sharaffiyya fi al-nisāb al-ta’lifiyya (‘Sharafian treatise on intervallic relations’) were highly influential in establishing a uniform theoretical basis for urban musical traditions throughout much of the Islamic world. His pupil Qutb al-Dīn [Mahmūd ibn Mas‘ūd al-Shīrāzī] (d 1312) also wrote on musical theory and his Durrat al-tāj (‘Pearl of the crown’) was widely circulated. Other scholars of note were al-Āmulī (d 1352) and al-Jorjānī (d 1413). The last great theorist of this era was ‘Abd al-Qādir (d 1435) whose Jāmi‘ al-alhān (‘Compendium of melodies’) contains rare examples of musical notation.

From the beginning of the 16th century, however, with the reunification of the country under the highly nationalistic Safavid dynasty (1501–1722), Persia became increasingly isolated from the rest of the Middle East, where Ottoman rule was paramount. The Safavids established the Shi‘a faith – a schismatic offshoot of Islamic orthodoxy – as the state religion, thereby creating an even greater separation from other Muslim states. The Shi‘a religious leaders have generally maintained a hostile attitude towards music; it was viewed with suspicion as its effect on the listener cannot be reasoned or theologically explained. Furthermore, music was generally seen as an accompaniment to frivolity and merriment, which could lead to impiety. The consequence of such proscriptive attitudes towards music was a gradual decline of musical scholarship from the 16th century to the mid-19th. Within urban settings, music was gradually reduced to a private, quasi-clandestine art where solo performance and improvisation became the dominant features.

The comparatively fallow period from the 16th century to the 19th gave rise to performing practices in which the individuality of modes became subordinated to a system where modes were linked into groups known as dastgāh. The system of 12 dastgāhs, which represents the classical tradition as known today, is largely a legacy of 19th-century practices. The definitive codification of this system is attributed to Mirzā Abdollāh (1845–1918), an eminent player and teacher of the setār (long-necked lute).

In the second half of the 19th century, European musical influences began to be felt. A Frenchman named Bousquet was employed in 1856 to organize a military band for ceremonial occasions at court. He was succeeded by Rouillon and Lemair, who established a music school to train conscripts to play Western wind instruments. The European marches and airs that these military bands performed were the first examples of Western music to be heard by the Iranian public at large. Through this music school, Western musical notation, theory, harmony and the very concept of a fixed and stable – as opposed to free and improvised – piece of music were introduced.

2. Theory of intervals and scales.

Numerous treatises on the theory of music containing discussions on intervals, methods of their measurement, modes and rhythmic cycles were produced between the 9th and 13th centuries. They were mostly written in Arabic, the scientific language of the vast Islamic domain. Within the Islamic community, there was a common thread of scholarly pursuit indicating that, on a theoretical level, music was based on shared principles, whether in Persia, Arabic-speaking regions, or Turkey. These theories relied fundamentally on the works of classical Greek authors from Pythagoras to Aristoxenus of Tarentum (see Greece, §I, 6). As music was not learnt or performed from notation, the measure of a true correlation between the theories expounded by medieval Islamic writers and the actual musical practices of their time cannot be reliably assessed. In theory, modes were conceived with tetrachordal arrangements of tones and semitones, corresponding to the Pythagorean whole tone of 204 cents and the semitone of one limma (90 cents). Other intervals, smaller than the whole-tone but larger than the semitone, were also in use. By the time of Ibn Sīnā (11th century), in a tetrachord of say c-d-e-f, there were, according to different methods of measurement, seven possibilities for a flattened d and five ways of achieving a flattened e. In the structure of various modes, however, no chromatic progressions from the natural to any flat version of a pitch were employed. Similarly, two versions of a flattened pitch were not used in succession.

In the 13th century, Safī al-Dīn re-evaluated the many theories, proposing only two possibilities for flat notes within each whole tone. According to his system, each tone (204 cents) could be subdivided into either limma (90 cents) or limma + limma (180 cents). Thereby, a tetrachord, having two tones and one semitone, yields seven possible pitches, and an octave composed of two conjunct tetrachords plus a whole tone contains 17 pitches, as shown in Table 1. (For a detailed discussion of medieval Islamic music theory to 1500, see Arab music, §I.) This highly exacting scale system has given way to a more flexible system in the surviving Persian tradition. The degree of correspondence to past practices cannot be ascertained, but one can recognize traces of Safī al-Dīn’s 17-tone scale, albeit in a distorted form.

TABLE 1: Subdivision of the tetrachord into Pythagorean limmas (L) and commas (C) (Safī al-Dīn, 13th century)

open

Z₁

Z₈

sabbābe

V₁

V₇

bansar

khansar

(90 c)

(24 c)

(90 c)

(24 c)

(90 c)

In the 1920s Ali Naqi Vaziri, a distinguished musician who had spent some years pursuing musical studies in France, proposed an artificial 24 quarter-tone scale as the basis for Persian music. His theory was not based on historical or scientific research but mainly derived from his abiding interest in submitting Persian music to the tempered tuning system to render it compatible with harmonization. To this day, many Iranian musicians believe their music is founded on a 24 quarter-tone scale, oblivious of the fact that no interval even approximating to a quarter-tone is used.

Vaziri organized a National School of Music and for some 20 years trained a significant number of musicians who became dedicated followers of his ideas. New pieces were composed within the framework of the traditional modes, but with an additional thin harmonic layer, a ‘progressive’ move seen as necessary for rescuing Persian music from stagnation. Naive and questionable as this aim was, it gained a considerable following. By the mid-20th century, Western influences had brought about a general acceptability and overwhelming popularity for music (both Persian and Western), effectively bypassing any religious objection that may still have existed (see §6 below).

In the mid-20th century, a Persian physicist and musician, Mehdi Barkeshli, attempted to establish, through scientific examination, that the contemporary tradition is still based on Safī al-Dīn’s 17-tone scale, but with the addition of one more possibility for the subdivision of the whole tone. According to Barkeshli, a whole tone is divisible into: limma (90 cents), limma + comma (114 cents), and limma + limma (180 cents). With each of the five tones in the octave yielding four possible pitches, and the addition of the two semitones, his octave scale contains a total of 22 pitches. This scale concept is appealing for its implied connection with past theories but difficult to reconcile with the reality of Persian music today. All theories that set forth neatly ordered and precise intervallic structures would seem unrealistic if in practice the music involves string instruments with movable frets and bridges, or wind instruments of no standardized size, thickness or substance.

Later studies on the intervals of Persian music, carried out in the 1960s by Hormoz Farhat, have been concerned with the reality of music as known and practised today. His findings are based on measurement of intervals and analysis of recorded music. No attempt has been made to prove links with classical theories, nor has there been undue reliance on Western musical concepts. His studies showed that Persian music cannot be represented meaningfully by any octave scale concept. It is rather pointless to speak of ‘the scale’ of Persian music. Such abstractions have no practical applications and tend to mislead. It is the groupings of tones into melodic configurations, normally not exceeding a tetrachord or pentachord, that are significant. Another striking feature of Farhat’s conclusions is that, in Persian music, intervals are often unstable; they tend to fluctuate, within a certain latitude, depending on the mode and according to the performer’s taste and inclination.

Based on these conclusions, the whole tone is reasonable stable, approximating to the Pythagorean whole tone of 204 cents. The semitone, although more flexible, is usually close to the Pythagorean limma of 90 cents. There are two unstable intervals that lie between the semitone and the whole tone. The smaller one varies between about 120 and 140 cents (‘small neutral tone’), and the larger of the two fluctuates between about 160 and 180 cents (‘large neutral tone’). In most cases, the two types of neutral tone come in succession, combining to complete the interval of a minor 3rd. There is also a variable interval of between 260 and 280 cents (‘plus tone’); it is appreciably smaller than the augmented 2nd. This tone has comparatively little application; where it is used, it follows, or precedes, a ‘small neutral tone’, together completing the range of a major 3rd. Whether these intervals represent deviations from the more exact intervals suggested by the classical writers and by Mehdi Barkeshli is open to question. Indeed the flexibility of intervals in modern Persian music is such that any number of theories can be broadly accommodated.

The traditional music is learnt by rote and, within the confines of the melodic dictates of each mode, is highly improvisatory. Musical notation is not used and can have little purpose. On the other hand, during the last hundred years compositions of pieces within the melodic frame of reference set by each mode have become prevalent (see below §4). In this context, Western notation has found wide application. Two additional signs, to express pitches lowered or raised by less than a semitone, were introduced by Vaziri early in the 20th century, and are commonly used. The koron indicates an approximate ‘half-flat’, and the sori a ‘half-sharp’ (see Table 2). The degree of lowering and raising of a tone is variable.

3. The modal system.

Persian classical music is represented by a corpus of amorphous pieces that are subject to extemporized renditions. They adhere to a modal principle that is defined by a set of pitches (maqām) and a certain melodic contour (māyeh). The pieces are collectively known as the radif (‘row’, ‘line-up’). 19th-century performing practices have tended to place these pieces into 12 groups, known as the 12 dastgāhs (a large unit with inner components; ex.1). The pieces within each dastgāh are generically called gusheh, and they carry their own individual names. Some of the dastgāhs contain large numbers of gushehs, which represent numerous maqāmāt, while others are composed of only a few gushehs. The 12 dastgāhs are: shūr, abu atā, dashtī, bayāt-e tork (or bayāt-e zand), afshāri, segāh, chāhārgāh, homāyun, bayāt-e esfāhān, navā, māhur and rāst (or rāst-panjgāh). Five of the 12 are commonly considered as subordinate dastgāhs (āvāz). Four of these, abu atā, dashtī, bayāt-e tork and afshārī, are taken to be related to shūr; bayāt-e esfāhān is considered as a derivative of homāyun. This classification, however, is poorly reasoned as it is merely based on a measure of relationship in the pitch material of these dastgāhs and not on their melodic content, which is far more axiomatic to their identity.

The performance of a dastgāh usually begins with one or more sections called darāmad (introduction). It is in the darāmad that the mode (maqām) and the melodic character (māyeh) of the dastgāh are revealed. After the darāmad, selections from the gushehs that are constituent parts of the dastgāh are presented. They differ from the darāmad in their māyeh, and they may also present, through modulation, different maqāmāt.

Some gushehs belong exclusively to the repertory of one dastgāh; others may be found within the structure of more than one dastgāh. In the latter category, there are those gushehs that preserve both their modal and melodic identity and those that maintain only their māyeh but yield to the set of pitches (maqām) of the dastgāh where they are placed. Notable in this type are gushehs belonging to dastgāh segāh, all of which can also be performed in dastgāh chāhārgāh.

It is common to begin the performance of a dastgāh in a relatively low register of the instrument or voice. The gushehs that follow the darāmad section are usually chosen to give a gradual ascent to higher sound registers. This systematic rise in pitch level was more binding in 19th-century practices; it is not always maintained in more modern performance styles.

Given the fact that a dastgāh is comprised of pieces in different modes, a measure of organizational unity is achieved through periodic reference back to the opening mode of the darāmad, which properly identifies the dastgāh. This is done by a concluding melodic cadence, placed at the end of each gusheh, which has presented a distinct maqām of its own. This melodic cadence, which may be brief or lengthy, is called forud (‘descent’), since it requires a modulation to the lower sound register of the darāmad section.

The entire performance process of a dastgāh is carried out, in the main, through extemporization. This occurs on the skeletal melodic material inherent to the mode of the dastgāh, as represented by the darāmad section, and extends to the various gushehs within the dastgāh. These melody models (māyeh) are not clearly defined, and no performer is able to isolate and tangibly represent them; nevertheless, they act as nebulous themes for an infinite number of variations. A broad understanding of the constituency of these māyehs is attained through years of training and immersion in a musical tradition that remains intriguingly arcane and non-specific. It is no wonder that many of the governing principles of Persian music remain controversial. A rendition of a dastgāh can vary greatly depending on the number of gushehs included and the degree of improvisatory freedom taken, and it may last just a few minutes or well over an hour.

4. Composed music.

20th-century performing practice of the 12 dastgāhs led to the creation of a new genre of composed pieces by known authors. The stimulus for this development came from Western music, which found increasing popularity. Whereas the traditional pieces from the radif are improvised variations on existing melody models, these 20th-century compositions were predetermined pieces of more or less fixed content, either written in Western notation or memorized.

In the main, there are four types of composed music. Three are purely instrumental: pishdarāmad, reng and chāhārmezrāb. The fourth, the tasnif or tarāneh, is a vocal genre. All four are composed in set metres, which distinguishes them from the improvised performance of the traditional radif, which is essentially non-rhythmic. The most common metre is the compound duple; simple duple, triple and quadruple rhythms are also used. Melodically, most composed pieces begin with a theme suggestive of the maqām and the māyeh of the darāmad, followed by one or more sections referring to one or more of the prominent gushehs of the dastgāh for which the piece has been composed. The exception to this rule is the chāhārmezrāb, which is usually a monothematic piece for a solo instrument.

The pishdarāmad ‘pre-introduction’ owes its origins to a growing interest in ensemble playing. Early in the 20th century, Persian musicians came in contact with Western orchestral music. The richness of orchestral sound was in sharp contrast to the soloistic/improvisatory modesty of Persian music, and it made a great impression. For ensemble playing, compositions with fixed melodic and rhythmic content were needed. Innovation of the pishdarāmad has been credited to Qolam Hossein Darvish (1872–1926). Although essentially an ensemble piece, true to the classical tradition, the pishdarāmad is monophonic and, as such, it can also be played by a single instrument. In melodic content it draws on the darāmad and some of the more striking gushehs of the relevant dastgāh. The rhythm is mostly in duple time, less commonly in triple or quadruple time. The tempo is normally moderate and the piece may last some two to five minutes.

The reng is a dance piece. There are some very old rengs by unknown composers, but hundreds of rengs have also been composed in modern times. In form, the reng resembles the pishdarāmad; it also draws on melodic material of the relevant dastgāh. It is, however, in a faster tempo, is nearly always in 6/8 time, and usually concludes the performance of a dastgāh. A reng can be played by an ensemble, but, having an older tradition than the pishdarāmad, is also very often played as the concluding piece for a solo performance.

Unlike the preceding two forms, the chāhārmezrāb is exclusively a solo instrumental composition intended to display the performer’s virtuosity. Its melodic content is simple and slight, with emphasis on fast and flowing movement around a fragmentary basic motif. A recurring rhythmic motif in 6/8 time is a common feature. However, modern chāhārmezrābs have become more elaborate, sometimes involving rhythmic syncopation and melodic extensions requiring modulations. The chāhārmezrāb is less fixed than the other compositional forms, allowing for some expansion through improvisation. The position of a chāhārmezrāb in the course of a dastgāh performance is not fixed. It may be placed near the beginning as a part of the darāmad section, in which case it will derive from the basic mode of the dastgāh. Additional chāhārmezrābs may be placed before or after one or more of the prominent gushehs of the dastgāh. In that case, they highlight the mode of that particular gusheh. The chāhārmezrāb may also come towards the end, just before the reng, or at the end, in place of the reng. Contemporary instrumentalists (especially santur and tār players) tend to intersperse their rendition of a dastgāh with an ever-increasing number of such display pieces. The growing interest in a show of virtuosity, as opposed to the more contemplative nature of the older style of performance, is another unmistakable outcome of Western influences.

The tasnif is a vocal piece performed with instrumental accompaniment by a soloist or an ensemble. Its structure parallels that of the pishdarāmad, but it usually comes towards the end of a dastgāh, just before the reng. In modern times it is not uncommon for the same tasnif to open and close a performance. Tasnifs written in the early years of the 20th century have serious poetic content with a social and patriotic message. The works of poet-musicians such as Aref, Sheydā and Amir Jāhed exemplify this type of tasnif. In the 1930s and 40s most tasnifs were set to high-quality lyric verses by classical poets such as Rumi, Hafez and Sa‘di. In the succeeding period of increased commercialization, tasnifs deteriorated in poetic and musical standard. A style of popular amorous ballad emerged, known as tarāneh. This genre, heavily diluted with Western elements, sometimes includes a thin layer of elementary harmony. Following the 1979 Revolution, composition of tasnifs gave way to more serious songs that conform to the ideological tenets of the clerical régime.

5. Musical instruments and vocal techniques.

Historically, a wide variety of instruments has been used in Persian music, although some are now obsolete (e.g. the chang). Evidence suggests Persia as the source of several musical instruments found outside the country. The Persian dulcimer (santur) is found in North India and Greece (santouri). The Persian word Ney (‘reed’) is applied to various flutes or pipes throughout the Middle East and North Africa. The Persian word sornā (‘festive pipe’), distorted to zurnā, is applied to a similar instrument in Turkey and all countries in the Balkan peninsula (shahnāī in India; see Surnāy). The North Indian sitār bears a Persian name, although it differs in construction from the Persian setār.

There are many instruments of regional folk music not used in urban classical music (see §III, 3 below). Currently the most widely used instruments of classical music are: setār, tār, santur, kamāncheh, ney and tombak (fig.10). The dāyereh (frame drum) was formerly important.

The setār (fig.11a) is a long-necked lute with a small pear-shaped soundbox and four strings. Its name signifies ‘three strings’; a fourth drone string has been added in more recent times. It has a range of two octaves and a 5th, and it is strummed with the nail of the right index finger. The more ancient name for this type of lute is tanbūr or tunbūr; the name setār found currency from the 16th century. Similar instruments used in the folk music of eastern Iran to this day are called tanbūr. The tār (fig.11b) has a tonal range identical with the setār. It has three double courses of strings (six strings in all); the first two courses serve a melodic function while the third course serves as a drone. The tār has a double interconnected soundbox covered with parchment. The larger resonating chambers, doubled melody strings and use of a metal pick (instead of the finger-nail) result in greater sonority, which has made the tār much more popular than the setār. However, it has not had a very long history in Persia.

The santur (fig.11e) is a small dulcimer with two layers of quadruple strings tuned in unison resting on movable bridges. It has a range of over three octaves and is played with delicate hammers made of rosewood. The kamāncheh (fig.10a and fig.11c) is a spike fiddle with four strings and a range of about three octaves. Its soundbox is round and deep, with a skin-covered surface over which the bridge rests. Ney is the generic name for many types of flute. A wooden rim-blown flute called ney-e haftband has found its way into the classical tradition. It is obliquely held, with six finger-holes and one thumb-hole. The tombak (fig.10b), also called dombak, is a vase-shaped wooden drum, held horizontally on the lap and played with the fingers of both hands. As it is used for establishing rhythm, the tombak is also popularly called the zarb (‘beat’).

The ‘ūd (lute; fig.11d) is believed to be a later development of a pre-Islamic Persian instrument called barbat. It has been a prominent musical instrument throughout the Middle East and is still widely used in Turkey and Arabic-speaking regions. In Persia, however, since the Safavid period, the ‘ūd gradually lost favour with musicians. Reasons for this are unclear, but by the beginning of the 20th century it was barely known. In the second half of the century, attempts were made to revive interest in the ‘ūd. It now has some use, particularly in orchestral music although there are still very few proficient ‘ūd players in Iran. The same holds true for the qānūn (psaltery; fig.11f), which has also enjoyed a limited revival, mainly in some orchestral formations.

Several Western instruments have found a firm place within the Persian classical tradition. The violin has been adopted very effectively as it is capable of producing intervals other than the tempered semitone and whole tone. In fact, it has largely replaced the native fiddle (kamāncheh). Other Western instruments used in Persian music include the clarinet, flute and trumpet. The most incompatible instruments are those with fixed tuning, such as the piano, which is severely at odds with the pliable nature of Persian intervals. Nevertheless, the piano’s majestic sound made it all too alluring to be overlooked. With some tuning alterations, it has been widely used, both as a solo instrument and in ensembles (with less than felicitous results).

6. Music education and performance.

The traditional approach to learning Persian music is through private instruction from a master-musician. The process is essentially centred on mastery of an instrument. Even singers usually study with an instrumentalist, singing as the teacher plays on his instrument. Learning to perform and to improvise are inseparable; the necessary knowledge of the musical system comes as a by-product of gaining proficiency in performance. This traditional practice is still widely followed, although music schools that use organized classroom teaching also now exist (see §7 below).

After discussing how to hold the instrument, the teacher is likely to begin lessons with a simplified version of a darāmad of one of the dastgāhs. As the pupil progresses, the various gushehs of the chosen dastgāh are introduced. It is all done by rote. Purely technical studies or dry exercises detached from the dastgāh repertory have only a marginal place in the teaching process. With continued work, the pupil becomes aware that the object is not to learn specific and unalterable pieces, but rather that it is a question of mastering mutable ideas for the improvisation of pieces that have aspects of identity (tones, melodic configurations, range, limitations etc.), but no fixed formation or duration. Through this procedure musicians come to know the implied models of the radif repertory. They learn to improvise upon them and become imbued with an understanding that can be articulated in performance but not verbalized.

In this music the preponderance of extemporization has mitigated against the use of ensembles. Moreover, a monophonic music that utilizes a limited range of sound has little justification for the employment of an orchestra. Nevertheless, the inroads of Western music and the introduction of fixed compositions (see §4 above) have resulted in the formation of small ensembles combining Persian and Western instruments, e.g. tār, santur, ney and tombak, plus violin and clarinet. The gushehs that are subject to improvised rendition are played by individual musicians within the group. In vocal performances the singer leads in improvisation. He or she is followed closely by the accompanying instrumentalist (who must have considerable experience and an exceptionally retentive memory), resulting in an inadvertent imitative counterpoint.

Persian music has a unique vocal technique, which includes tahrir, a type of ornamentation with a quasi-yodelling effect and high falsetto notes. This difficult art has been declining since the beginning of the 20th century. Outstanding early 20th-century singers were Qamar and Tāherzāde.

Until the early 20th century, performance of Persian classical music was limited to special occasions in private gatherings, mostly in aristocratic homes or at court. Religious constraints tended to prohibit large public forums for musical presentation. Since then, Westernization and the advent of recording, cinema, radio and television have combined to give music a wider social application (see §7 below). Whereas in the past great performers were known by the social élite, today they are familiar to the bulk of the population. Outstanding performers of modern times, such as ahmad Ebādi (setār), ali akbar Shahnāzi (tār), Asqar Bahāri (kamāncheh), abolhasan Sabā (violin), Farāmarz Pāyvar (santur), Hasan Kasāi (ney), Hoseyn Tehrāni (tombak) and Qolāmhoseyn Banān (singer), gained recognition through their recordings, broadcasts and concert presentations, and have been revered by all.

7. Modern developments.

Increasing Westernization was the dominant feature of Iran under Pahlavi rule (1925–79). Significant strides were made in the promotion of music as a social force. Tehran was the hub of activity, but larger provincial cities also gradually benefited. In the 1930s a music conservatory was established in Tehran under the auspices of the Ministry of Culture and Arts, with theoretical and practical courses based on European models, and there was a state-funded School of National Music. In 1965 the University of Tehran organized a Music Department modelled on the American system, covering theory, composition, music education and study of different instruments of Western art music. A separate section dealt with systematic study of theoretical and practical aspects of Persian classical music.

Before the 1979 Revolution, radio and television stations aired all types of musical programmes and employed many musicians. In a lighter vein, composed songs of a hybrid Persian/Western type became increasingly popular. An ever-growing host of male and female singers captured the public fancy, stimulating a profitable record industry. These songs were taken up by professional entertainers, as were musical items from films (see §III, 5 below).

By the 1970s, Iran had a number of competent composers, conductors, pianists, violinists and singers of Western music, mostly trained abroad; some enjoyed international recognition. The Tehran SO, founded in the late 1930s, improved steadily. By the mid-1970s it had a hundred musicians under contract, performing regular concerts of the standard repertory and newly commissioned works. An opera company founded in the late 1960s staged works in the splendid Rudaki Hall, including a few by Iranian composers. The National Iranian Radio and Television maintained an excellent chamber orchestra, and there was also a ballet troupe.

The annual Shiraz Festival, held in the southern city of Shiraz and nearby ancient ruins of Persepolis, was another highly effective area of musical activity. The accent was on the Western avant-garde and authentic music from Iran (fig.12) and other parts of the East, with internationally known artists and groups.

With the 1979 Revolution and political takeover by the fundamentalist religious faction, all public music was initially brought to a halt. Music ceased to be broadcast, music schools were closed, and the Symphony Orchestra, opera company and ballet troupe were disbanded. However, within a few years the government came to realize that such draconian measures are untenable: music cannot be expunged from the life of a nation. Furthermore, the hardline position against music, when theologically scrutinized, was found to be largely groundless.

A considerable softening in policy has since occurred. The Tehran SO has been revived, music schools are functioning again and music is heard on radio and television. However, pop music of all kinds is held in disfavour, and women are banned from singing in public. At the same time, large numbers of Iranian expatriates (particularly in the United States) include many musicians continuing to produce and market a vast quantity of popular music.

On the private level, interest in music is greater than ever. Since the régime blocks so many avenues of pleasure, large numbers of people now find joy in the study of musical instruments, both Western and Persian. A real shortcoming is the lack of cultural exchange with the world at large, but that too will no doubt be re-established as Iran’s self-imposed isolation is gradually, and inevitably, rescinded.

See below for bibliography.

III. Regional and popular traditions

3. Instruments and ensembles.

2. Ritual and ceremony.

4. Sung poetry.

5. Entertainment.

1. Introduction.

Iranian civilization has long been sustained by complex interdependencies among settled and nomadic peoples, cities and their rural hinterlands. As musical instruments, performance genres and melody-types were transported from one environment to another, some were distinguished as ‘regional’, ‘rural’ or ‘tribal’. The names of a great many classical gushehs refer to cities, regions or tribes. Similarly, within regional traditions, the principle of marking musical differences with geographic and ethnic names is widely applied, though on a smaller scale than in the classical radif.

The current political boundaries of Iran separate ethnic groups from their kindred in adjacent nations. The music of Pakistani Baluchistan Pakistan, Turkmenistan, Azerbaijan and the Kurdish regions of Turkey, Syria, Armenia and Iraq affords many parallels with that of corresponding groups within Iran. Musical practices in the Gulf region also share many common features, some of African origin (see Arabian Gulf).

Regional musical traditions are closely correlated with differences of language, and many performers have been bilingual or multilingual. Persian (Farsi) is the mother tongue of little more than half Iran’s population, but most people are exposed to it. Sorani Kurdish, Kurmanji Kurdish and Baluchi are the other major Iranian languages. The most important Turkic language spoken in Iran is Azeri (Azerbaijani), dominant in the north-west; others include the language of the nomadic Qashqa’i of Fars province, the Turkmen to the east of the Caspian sea and scattered groups in northern Khorasan. Arabic is widely spoken in the south-west and in towns along the Gulf coast.

In regional traditions, knowledge of repertories and performance techniques is often transmitted from master (morshed or ostād) to pupil (morid: ‘disciple’ or shāgerd: ‘apprentice’) in ways that resemble transmission of the classical radif. This applies both to instrumentalists learning a repertory of melody-types and rhythmic patterns and to singers specializing in some type of sung poetry. One specialist, the naqqāl (fig.13) might spend up to 12 years with an experienced master learning how to sing and recite the epic Shāhnāmeh (‘Book of Kings’) of Ferdawsi, which consists of more than 48,000 distichs. A morshed who recites poetry in a traditional gymnasium (zurkhāneh) acquires his arts of recitation and drumming from a recognized master. Long periods of study are made necessary by the esoteric aspects of much musical knowledge, whether these involve the trade secrets of service professionals or the spiritual insights attained by musicians who take pride in their status as amateurs. The value placed on amateur or semi-professional standing is one consequence of the low social status traditionally assigned to service professionals.

There are several types of singing and instrumental music among the goods and services best provided by specialists from outside the immediate community. In cities, music for weddings and other festivities is often provided by members of religious minorities, notably Jews and Armenians, many of whom are also instrument-makers. Peasants may call upon musicians from nomadic or itinerant groups for entertainment at weddings, and certain villages have a high concentration of musicians available for hire. Within some tribal societies, the responsibility for playing certain instruments and for performing other services is vested in a relatively small endogamous group, e.g. the Tushmāl among the Bakhtiyari and the Ussa or Changiyān among the Qashqa’i. Musicians of many regions have acquired stylistic elements from the music of ‘outsiders’ such as the Godar of eastern Mazanderan (who number about 3000).

Regional differences are most pronounced with respect to instruments and ensembles, the ceremonial uses of voices and instruments, and the performance genres cultivated by specialists. Moreover, each region has several musical publics, and some are suspicious or simply unaware of the activities of others. This situation has limited the scope of information on musical instruments and performance genres given by Iranian and foreign authors. The first comprehensive survey of Iranian instruments was carried out in the 1980s and 90s by Mohammed Reza Darvishi, who is preparing a multi-volume encyclopedia of instruments.

Most Iranian performing arts allow performers to select stylistic options that either intensify or diminish the demands placed on listeners and spectators. The most accessible music has a constant metre, a fixed rhythmic pattern and a narrow melodic range. Performers may invite spectators to clap in rhythm, and in some genres all participants are obliged to sing the refrains. Soloists invariably depart from the simplest forms of any pattern, and then return at appropriate points of the performance.

2. Ritual and ceremony.

Ceremonial uses of voices and instruments vary significantly among the different regions, notably in relation to the functions assigned to specific instruments. Human responsiveness to divine ordinances can be thrown into vivid relief by the absence of instrumental sounds, as in the call to prayer (azān) and recitation or cantillation of the Qur’an. The effective coordination of group movements in a regular sequence can be underscored by use of percussion instruments. The semantic associations of particular instruments can be evoked as appropriate in ceremonial contexts. Instruments may also serve as surrogate voices, or as the primary vehicles for performance of a sacred repertory.

(i) Zekr.

The spiritual assemblies in which members of Sufi orders sing poetry and, in some cases, play instruments have long provided a favourable environment for the cultivation of poetry, music and other arts. In no other type of venue have so many languages and stylistic levels been brought into play, though differences among the orders are expressed, in part, through stylistic preferences and through avoidance of styles deemed inappropriate. The term zekr (literally ‘remembrance’) applies both to whole ceremonies and to short formulae or pieces that are sung or spoken at appropriate points within a ceremony.

The sacred instrument of the Ahl-e Haqq order in southern Kurdistan and Lorestan is the tanbūr (long-necked lute, fig.14; see §3 below). It accompanies the singing of sacred texts (kalām) in the spiritual assembly (jam‘) using modal entities termed maqām (or, more recently, dastgāh) and often named after important figures in the order’s history. Hewrami (considered a form of Kurdish by the Ahl-e Haqq) is the sacred language of the kalām, though other languages (e.g. Lori and Azeri) are also used in ceremonies. The group sits in a circle as zekrs from various sources are performed responsorially, sometimes with instrumental solos on the tanbūr interpolated into the sequence.

By contrast, the zekr ceremony of the Qāderi order in Kurdistan has two phases, during which participants are first seated and meditative then standing and singing as they move rhythmically. To introduce the entire ceremony, and during the ‘standing’ phase (qiyām or here), hymns and zekrs are sung to the accompaniment of large frame drums (daff). The techniques of alternating verses and refrains in a fixed-time cycle and of varying a melody that inexorably returns to its foundation enable singers to activate spiritual energies and to induce states of ecstasy. The purposes of the Qāderi assembly do not require the diversity of melodic resources evident in the rich Ahl-e Haqq tradition.

For further details on zekr (or dhikr) see Islamic religious music, §II, 3.

(ii) Nowheh.

Responsorial singing also binds together the members of groups that have no connection with Sufi orders. In villages and some towns, members of a dasteh or hey’at meet regularly to sing verses (nowheh) that express their anguish over the martyrdom of the Shi‘a imāms. The leader sings to a somewhat variable pulse; this contrasts with the group’s short, more metrical responses (ex.2), which are normally accompanied by rhythmic breast-beating (sinehzani) or by striking the shoulders with small chains (zanjirzani). The tempo gradually quickens as the leader’s singing rises in pitch and his phrase groupings lengthen.

Nowheh sinehzani is often performed during or after a mourning procession commemorating the martyred imāms. For these processions, the most important dates of the Islamic lunar calender are the 9th and 10th of Muhorram (Imām Hossein), the 28th of Safar (Imām Hassan) and the 29th of Safar (Imām Rezā). Men and boys walk in step, as cymbals (senj) and perhaps a drum, even trumpet and piccolo, are played. When the group pauses to sing nowheh, the instruments are silent, unless they relieve the singers with an instrumental rendition of a strophe.

In the city of Mashhad, on the major days of mourning, groups from many regions of Iran form processions that circle the shrine of Imām Rezā. In the city of Bushehr, each residential quarter traditionally mounted its own procession on the 9th of Muharram, accompanied by an ensemble of eight cylindrical double-headed drums (dammām), eight pairs of cymbals and one long serpentine conical trumpet (buq) made of reed, with an animal horn containing a blow-hole attached at the upper end. As processions encountered one another, the buq players were expected to coordinate the rhythms of their ensembles. (See also Iraq, §III, 1(ii).)

In the province of Gilan and parts of Mazanderan, an ensemble of ten long reed trumpets (karnā) performs exclusively in mourning ceremonies and the ta‘ziyeh drama. The lead player thinks of religious verses appropriate to the occasion and imitates their rhythms and melodic contours with the two (occasionally three) pitches; the other nine play different pitches in a loose rhythmic unison as they ‘catch’ the leader’s words.

(iii) Ta‘ziyeh and Rowzeh.

Sung plays (ta‘ziyeh or shabih) depicting events surrounding the martyrdom of Imām Hossein and members of his family (or, less often, the martyrdom of another imām) are performed in most regions of Iran. The ta‘ziyeh reached its highest point of development in the late 19th century, when foreign dignitaries were regularly invited to witness the elaborate performances sponsored by the Qajar court. The efforts of the Pahlavi shahs (ruled 1926–79) to discourage performance of the plays were more successful in the large cities than in towns and villages. Some prominent classical musicians have come from families known for their expertise in ta‘ziyeh performance, and portions of the classical radif may have been adopted from ta‘ziyeh melodies.

The ta‘ziyeh dramas are produced both by circles of devotees and by professional troupes (who interrupt performances at strategic points to solicit donations from spectators). Knowledge of a role (nagsh) is sometimes transmitted orally from father to son, but considerable use is made of manuscript texts, which actors may even read during performance. A curator of texts (noskhe-dār) serves as a highly knowledgable source of assistance to neophyte performers (e.g. Āmirzā Ali Paknefas of Qazvin, d 1994).

The use of singing serves to distinguish between the forces of good and evil. Soloists portraying the martyrs sing their parts, whereas their enemies do not sing but declaim their verses: singing is held to express human emotions that are sorely lacking in these evil characters. Drums and wind instruments often provide appropriate references to the battle between good and evil. Melodic patterns used for sung dialogues have clearly defined tonal functions and allow for interpolation of exclamations (ex.3). The melody of ex.3 changes direction at the caesura following the sixth syllable of each hemistich.

Rowzeh is an extended poetic narrative about the martyred imāms, performed by a specialized singer (rowzehkhān) at devotional gatherings, which are held at any time of the year in private homes, mosques and other public places. Texts are drawn from a large repertory of printed and manuscript collections dating from the 17th to the 20th centuries. The singer shapes and articulates conventional rhythmic and melodic formulae to elicit highly emotional responses from the listeners, many of whom weep profusely. (For further details on Shi‘a religious music, see Islamic religious music, §III.)

(iv) Daily life.

No form of sound communication is more important to the ordering of Muslim daily life than the call to prayer (azān). Qur’anic recitation and the singing of monājāt (prayers) and other religious verses in the home is an important part of personal religious observance.

Many urban men attend the morning or evening sequence of athletic exercises in a traditional gymnasium (zurkhāneh). These are led by a morshed who sings many types of verse (including short sections of the Shāhnāmeh, accompanying himself on a large earthenware goblet drum (zarb). The exercises are tightly coordinated with the drum rhythms. Late in the sequence a heavy rattle (kabbādeh) is lifted above the head and shaken; it has small metal discs attached to the links of a chain and weighs up to 24 kg.

As in many cities of Central Asia and South Asia, the naqqāreh-khāneh (literally ‘drumhouse’) once played a prominent role in time-keeping. An ensemble of kettledrums (naqqāreh), shawms (sornā) and long brass trumpets (karnā) used to play immediately before sunrise and after sunset from a tower (naqqāreh-khāneh). The institution survives (though without the trumpets) at the shrine of Imām Rezā in Mashhad (fig.15).

All over Iran vocal genres connected with stages in the life-cycle or with everyday activities used to be performed responsorially and antiphonally. Some are now sung by soloists with instrumental accompaniment, e.g. the motk sung by women in Baluchi mourning ceremonies. Singing to coordinate the movements of workers was highly developed in some regions (e.g. Gilan, Lorestan, Bushehr and Hormozgan), but in living memory many such genres have been abandoned.

Instrumental music is far more prominent in marriage celebrations than in funerals. The instrumental voices that best fit both contexts are those of two shawms, the sornā and the larger karnā. In Lorestani mourning ceremonies, melodic formulae played on the karnā (or sāz-e chapi) effectively recall the accomplishments of the dead.

(v) Therapy.

Healing ceremonies in Baluchistan and the Gulf region depend on the participation of skilled instrumentalists. In the Baluchi gwāti ceremony, various tunes are played on the sorud (double-chested fiddle) or doneli (double duct flute) until one pleases the spirit (gwāt) responsible for the patient’s illness. This tune is repeated as the spirit takes full possession of the sufferer. More than one session (le‘b) is usually necessary before the gwāt makes known his demands through the altered voice of the possessed patient. If healing takes place, it is attributed to divine grace, not to the gwāt.

Musical offerings and appeals to spirits are equally important in healing ceremonies of the Gulf region, which inlude the zār, nubān and liwah. The tambire, a bowl lyre with six strings, is the sacred instrument of the nubān on the island of Qeshm and elsewhere in the province of Hormozgan. It is normally accompanied by two large double-headed drums (gap dohol) and a belt-rattle sewn with sheep- and goat-hooves (manjul or manjur).

See also Iraq, §III, 1(iii) and Arabian Gulf.

3. Instruments and ensembles.

Of the six primary instruments of 20th-century Persian classical music, santur (dulcimer), tār (double-chambered long-necked lute), setār (long-necked lute), kamāncheh (spike fiddle), ney (rim-blown flute) and tombak or zarb (goblet drum), all except the setār are also prominent in popular or regional traditions, where they are found in variant forms. In the 1980s and 90s the frame drum (dāyereh or daff) began to reclaim its former place in the classical ensemble, though current playing techniques are rudimentary in comparison to those of the zarb.

Before the 1979 revolution, urban popular musicians (motreb) exploited the virtuoso possibilities of the tār and santur in radio orchestras and entertainment troupes. The violin was readily assimilated in both environments, whereas its suitability for music based on the radif remains a controversial subject. Some urban popular ensembles adopted a santur with 14 quadruple courses of strings rather than the 9–11 courses of the classical instrument. The Azerbaijani tār (tār-e qafqāzi or tār-e torki) had a major role in the radio ensembles called ‘Azerbaijani orchestras’, which were active for several decades. In contrast to the Iranian tār, it is held against the player’s upper chest and has a shallower body, a thicker membrane for the soundtable, 22 rather than 25 frets, and five or six additional sympathetic drone strings (fig.16).

The kamāncheh (spike fiddle) and ney (rim-blown flute) are central instruments within both rural and urban musical practices. The kamāncheh with either three or four strings (fig.17) is found among the Qashqa’i and in Lorestan, Azerbaijan, Gilan, Mazanderan, the Turkmen plain and northern Khorasan. In Gilan and northern Khorasan, it shares a repertory of dance tunes with the sornā, and some musicians are proficient on both instruments.

The ney is commonly called ney-e haftband (ney with seven nodes), but oblique rim-blown flutes have many other regional names. They are virtually ubiquitous (except from Azerbaijan), as is their association with shepherds. The preferred rim-blown flute of a given region often has a substantial repertory. In most areas it is played solo or accompanied by a drum (dāyereh, tombak or occasionally small naqqāreh). Players of rim-blown flutes often hum or sing a fundamental pitch while playing. In the late 19th century, court musicians adopted the Turkmen technique of placing the ney against the upper teeth, using the tip of the tongue to direct the air flow.

The next most common aerophone is the sornā (shawm, often simply called sāz: ‘instrument’). Its wooden body (usually 30–45 cm long) has a cylindrical bore along two-thirds of its length, expanding into a small bell below the lowest finger-hole. Its melodic range rarely exceeds a 12th. The much larger karnā or sāz-e chapi of Lorestan and of the Bakhtiyari and Qashqa’i has a detachable lower section of copper or brass, somewhat longer than the wooden body; the total length of a karnā may reach 90 cm. One sornā or karnā, played with the technique of circular breathing, is normally accompanied by one or more drums, usually the dahol (but dāyereh in western Gilan and naqqāreh in eastern Gilan and Mazanderan). In Azerbaijan a second sornā may provide a continuous drone. The sornā of Minab (Hormozgan), a relatively large instrument with a range of two octaves, is accompanied on festive occasions by two types of dohol (the gap dohol or mārsāz and the smaller jawrre) and perhaps one or two tombak. The combination of sornā or karnā and dohol has long been associated with weddings and circumcisions, acrobatics, wrestling and other games of prowess; it is heard in some ta‘ziyeh performances, e.g. in Hormozgan.

Other aerophones have more limited distribution. The bālābān of Azerbaijan and Kurdistan (also called nerme ney and mey) is a cylindrical pipe of about 30 cm, played with circular breathing (fig.18a). The broad 10-cm double reed produces a warm, pliable tone. When a pair of instruments is used, one musician (the damkesh) plays a continuous drone. The drone function is inherent in the structure of the Baluchi doneli, a double duct flute related to those of the Indian subcontinent. The ‘male’ flute which plays the melody has up to 11 finger-holes, of which only the lower six are used: the ‘female’ has eight holes, some filled with wax to produce the appropriate drone.

Double clarinets are played mainly to accompany dancing, usually with dohol accompaniment. They are found in Khorasan, the Zagros mountains and the Gulf region. Two pipes of equal length (about 15–20 cm) are commonly tuned in approximate unison, but expert players occasionally tune them a 2nd or 3rd apart to raise the energy level of the music; often one pipe acts as a drone. In Khorasan, the qooshmeh, dosāzeh and dobugeh are usually made from bird bones (eagle or crane), having five, six or seven finger-holes. In Kurdistan, Azerbaijan and Lorestan, similar double clarinets are made of reed (duzele: ‘two reeds’; see fig.18b). In the south-west, a similar six-holed reed instrument (ney-jofti, qalam-joftī) takes an important role in religious ceremonies, and it provides accompaniment for sung poetry and dancing. A double clarinet set within a block of wood serves as the chanter of the neyanbān, a bagpipe sharing much of the same repertory.

The cylindrical double-headed drum (dohol) is found in many of the ensembles described above. One skin is normally beaten with a large bent stick (gorz), the other with a thinner, more flexible stick (tarke). The diameter of each membrane invariably exceeds the length of its cylindrical body (e.g. in the ratio of 80:30 cm). In Hormozgan a group of three double-headed drums accompanies the qalam-joftī, entering in a prescribed order: dohol (played on both skins with the hands), pipa (played on one skin with a stick) and the small keser (played on one skin, with the hands, supplying variations of the basic patterns). Ensembles of drums playing complementary parts are highly developed in Baluchistan and the Gulf region, e.g. the Baluchi pair of barrel drums played with the hands (male dorrokor and smaller, female tambuk).

The frame drum (dāyereh or daff) occurs in many sizes, with or without attached metal rings. It has found its way into the most varied social situations, from the Sufi zekr to performances of street entertainers. It never lost its central role in the classical and popular idioms of Azerbaijan, and the best Azeri players display a high level of mastery.

The most important feature distinguishing long-necked lutes is the manner of sounding the strings: they are struck with the fingers of the right hand on the dotār (literally ‘two strings’) and Ahl-e Haqq tanbūr, plucked with a plectrum on the tār and Azerbaijani sāz. These instruments often accompany sung poetry. Every asheq accompanies his songs on the sāz (see §4(ii) below): with the bālābān and qāval (frame drum) or (in the west) solo. In addition to accompanying singing, the dotār has regionally specific functions (e.g. participation in ceremonies of the Sufi Naqshbandi order in Torbat-e Jam). Khorasani players delight in producing dense sonorities, and ensembles of several dotārs have become common. The Turkmen dotār is often played with the Turkmen spike fiddle (qijak).

Various sizes of dotār are played in eastern Mazanderan, on the Turkmen plain and throughout Khorasan. The two strings, tuned a 4th or 5th apart, are often struck simultaneously. Similarly, the Ahl-e Haqq tanbūr has two strings tuned a 4th or 5th apart, the higher pitch doubled by a third string. Most modern dotārs have 14 frets yielding a chromatic scale, but in eastern Khorasan three-quarter-tone intervals are used as well.

Khorasani dotārs (fig.19) are some 100–110 cm in length; Turkmen dotārs are about 85 cm, having more elaborate melodic ornamentation since the frets lie close together. The sāz or bāqlāmā of Azerbaijan (also called chogur) is approximately the same length as the Khorasani dotār, but with a proportionally much larger sound cavity. It has three triple courses of steel strings; the melody is played on the upper course, and the lower two provide a rich drone. The 14 frets produce a chromatic scale with the option of two three-quarter-tone intervals.

Baluchistan has four distinctive chordophones, the most important being the sorud or qheichak, a double-chested fiddle with a skin soundtable over the lower section, four melodic strings and four to ten sympathetic strings (fig.20). Its large solo repertory is partly shared with the doneli flute. Melodies that are highly ornamented on the sorud are rendered in their simplest form on the rubāb, a short-necked waisted lute with a skin soundtable over the lower section, four melodic strings and 10–15 sympathetic strings (see Afghanistan, §I, 6(i)). The sorud is often accompanied by the tanburag (also known as tanbire and setār: ‘three strings’). This instrument is larger than the classical setār (about 125cm long) and has three strings. It is an accompanying instrument, providing a rhythmic drone. The benju is a plucked board zither introduced into South Asia from Japan, one metre long, with a mechanized keyboard. Its four drone strings serve as a substitute for the tanburag, a small plectrum effectively producing ornaments on the two melody strings. (See also Pakistan).

4. Sung poetry.

The ability to sing or recite classical Persian poetry is remarkably widespread and in no sense the exclusive prerogative of specialists. Passages from Ferdawsi’s Shāhnāmeh (‘Book of Kings’) were once sung in many settings: nomad encampments, village social gatherings, teahouses and gymnasiums. Most melody-types used for singing the Shāhnāmeh accommodate two lines, each with two hemistichs of 11 syllables in the quantitative metre – –/– –/– –/–.

(i) Lyric genres.

Singing for oneself, small groups of friends, children and other family members is common in most regions. Inhibitions make many people reluctant to sing in public unless they are recognized as having good voices. Social gatherings in the Mukri region of Kurdistan may include an activity known as gerelawije, in which everyone present takes a turn in offering a song, and in Khorasan the instrumentalists hired to perform at village weddings provide accompaniment for any guest who wishes to sing chāhārbeiti.

Genres of lyric song emphasize such topics as the singer’s loneliness, yearning for home or separation from his or her beloved, themes that are easily extended to praise of the singer’s home, family and beloved. The beauty and unpredictability of nature are also major themes. Lyric genres are aptly sung by someone working or travelling alone, but the same verses remain appropriate when the singer has an audience of a few hundred guests at a village wedding. One of the primary functions of music is to alleviate the pain of the individual’s condition by acknowledging and articulating it.

The literary form known as dobeiti is a couplet with 22 syllables in each line, almost always in the hazaj metre: – – –/– – –/– – (twice). It has a rhyme scheme of AABA or AABB for the four hemistichs and is often called chāhārbeiti (‘quatrain’). Such couplets are usually sung to melody-types that can accommodate one full line, which allows singers to introduce subtle melodic variations in the second line and subsequent couplets (ex.4). A singer strings together a sequence of couplets, repeating lines, inserting refrains ad libitum, and interpolating vocatives and expletives ar various points, often with elaborate ornamentation (tahrir). Most melody-types respect the division of the couplet into four hemistichs of 11 syllables each but do not impose a rhythmic pattern with a regular grouping of beats. Such melodies are sometimes described as ‘non-metric’, despite the fact that the poetic metre acts as a strong constraint, controlling the placement of ornaments and extended durations. In some verses the number of syllables is kept constant with no hint of a quantitative metre. Although instrumental accompaniment is not essential, the dotār, kamāncheh, ney, ney-joftī and ney anbān are capable of playing alternate strophes with ornamentation equivalent to that of the vocalist.

The varieties of dobeiti (or chahārbeiti) have many names, pointing to the subject matter, melody-type or manner of performance. Gharibi, a common term in several regions, emphasizes the singer’s predicament as a stranger far from home. In the Talesh region of Gilan, the generic term is dastun and melody-types bear the names of localities (e.g. kargānrudi, asālmi, māsāli). In Fars and the Gulf region, the most important term is sharve, and many verses are attributed to named poets such as Fāyez Dashtestāni (1834–1911) and Maftun (1897–1962). Singing styles vary with respect to features such as emphasis on, or avoidance of, melodic climaxes in the sharve. In northern Khorasan the āhang-e sarhaddi (‘tune of the Sarhadd region’) is the preferred melody-type. Around Torbat-e Jam some of the same verses are sung in a number of genres, e.g. sarhaddi, jamshidi, hazaregi and kucheh-bāqi. (See Afghanistan, §II, 2(i).)

The quatrains sung in Azerbaijan (bayāti, similar in form to the Turkish māni) usually have seven-syllable lines with the rhyme scheme AABA, as does the ağit, a lament for the dead. Some scholars believe that bayāti and māni derive from a process of interaction between the Persian dobeiti and older forms of Turkic poetry. Qoshma is the other major type of Azerbaijani quatrain: lines of 8 or 11 syllables have the rhyme scheme AAAB and the final line is sometimes a refrain. Rhythmic and melodic considerations occasion the expansion of some lines, elimination of others and addition of refrains or vocables during performances. The qoshma is easily extended into a strophe of five hemistichs with the rhyme scheme AAABB.

In Kurdistan, lyric genres are not arranged in quatrains. The most popular Kurdish songs, known as gorāni or stran, are short and relatively easy to learn. Their refrains are sometimes longer than the verses. Lawik, heyrān and qetar are common genres calling for elaborate ornamentation as the melody gradually descends within an interval of a 4th or (more often) 5th. The distinctive melodic profile of each genre make it easy to recognize in instrumental performances. Singers make extensive use of syllables such as leyley, lolo and loyloy. These genres are often followed by a pashbend (‘suffix’, ‘after-verse’) in a dance rhythm.

Baluchistan, like Kurdistan, is exceptionally rich in lyric genres, which lend themselves to instrumental adaptation. Zahirok and liku, like the Persian gharibi, express yearning for home or anguish at separation from the beloved. The melodies may have a range of two conjunct or disjunct 4ths; they are highly ornamented and avoid any metric regularity. Both genres are often accompanied on the sorud, which provides introductions, interludes and conclusions, plus a constant drone. The metric genre known as sawt is usually sung to instrumental accompaniment and treats many topics. It has an unusually large repertory of melodies; a single song may contain phrases based on several different species of tetrachords.

(ii) Narrative genres.

Several types of professional and semi-professional performers have long been recognized for their large repertories and skill in holding an audience. These include the Persian naqqāl, Baluchi shā‘er or pahlawān, Kurdish beytbij, Azerbaijani ‘āshıq, Turkmen and Khorasani bakhshi. Prior to the 1979 Revolution, an elaborate wedding celebration (toy) in Turkic-speaking areas was incomplete without performance of stories (dāstān or hikāye) that include quatrains sung to instrumental accompaniment.

Other major venues for performance of narrative genres were upper-class homes and, from the 17th century onwards, teahouses (most of which were closed after the 1979 Revolution). The traditional patronage base of the great Iranian storytellers did not survive the social changes of the 20th century, although in current times a festival of traditional arts may bring together outstanding performers in most of the categories described.

Baluchi verse narratives (sheyr) used to be performed by a poet-singer (shā‘er) at gatherings of the ruling khans, and occasionally at marriage celebrations. Extensive stories such as ‘Chāker and Goharām’ might last as long as ten hours. They primarily tell of heroic deeds and historical events, but include tales of lovers who overcome various obstacles to their union. The singer is generally accompanied by sorud and tanburag. He should effectively combine three performance styles, moving from expressive singing (alhān, pl. of Arab. lahn: ‘melody’) to rapid declamation (dabgāl) or short metric songs (sāzenk); instrumental interludes are inserted at prescribed points. At the highest level of mastery, the poet-singer is termed pahlavān (‘singer of heroism’).

A Kurdish beytbij may sing throughout the epic (beyt) without instrumental accompaniment or may combine sung poetry with spoken prose. Presentation of a long beyt may extend over several evenings. Topics range from stories of ill-fated lovers to warfare between Kurdish princes or Kurds opposing Ottoman or Persian armies. Narrative poems by modern Kurdish writers such as Abdollah Guran (1904–62) often carry political implications; they are sung throughout Kurdistan in a style similar to the beyt. Traditionally semi-professional, the beytbij acquires his art through extended study with a master (westa). ‘Ali Bardashani, the celebrated beytbij active at the Bābān court under Abdolrahmān Pasha (ruled 1789–1812) was said to have received assistance from supernatural beings (jindōkān), and in return he supposedly sang at their weddings. Other early singers are also remembered by name.

Each strophe of a beyt generally has a variable number of lines of varying length, with a common rhyme. Successive strophes are often linked by a repeated word, phrase or thought. Although the parlando singing style avoids regular grouping of beats, the variation and expansion of short rhythmic and melodic ideas lend coherence to the singer’s discourse. Melodies generally descend within the range of a 4th or 5th.

The most richly developed narrative repertories are those of the Azerbaijani ‘āshıq and Khorasani bakhshi, memorized from manuscripts or inexpensive books and occasionally enlarged with new items. Versions of some Turkic narratives (e.g. the love story ‘Tāher and Zohrā’) are known to storytellers over a wide area extending from Xinjiang in China, through Uzbekistan, northern Afghanistan, Turkmenistan, northern Iran, Azerbaijan and Turkey. Musical presentation is particularly appropriate for two lovers’ exchange of strophes; prose narration explains the situations that motivate the lovers to sing and the strophic melodies are echoed in instrumental interludes. Most strophes are quatrains with lines of 8 or 11 syllables (the latter divided 4 + 4 + 3 or 6 + 5), grouped into larger sequences by common refrain lines and common melody-types. In Azerbaijan each tune (havā) has a proper name. Names are less important in Khorasan; some tunes accommodate verses in three languages (Khorasan, Turkic, Kurmanji Kurdish and Persian).

In western Azerbaijan an ‘āshıq accompanies himself on the bāqlāmā (sāz), and likewise every bakhshi sings to his own dotār accompaniment. The ‘āshıq and bakhshi also perform genres with religious connotations, some employing quantitative metres (derived from the classical Persian aruz metrical system and linked to specific melody-types) rather than the syllabic metres of Turkic folk poetry. A well-known example, transcribed from the singing of Asheq Hassan Eskandari (b 1947), is a strophe from the much-loved sequence Heydar Bābā-ye Salām by Shahriar (1904–89). Shahriar’s strophe has five hendecasyllabic lines (divided 4 + 4 + 3) with the rhyme scheme AAABB.

For further details on the ‘āshıq see Azerbaijan; for the Turkmen bakhshi see Turkmenistan.

5. Entertainment.

Several types of performance described by 17th-century European travellers (Olearius, Chardin and Kaempfer) remained current in Iranian cities until the aftermath of the 1979 Revolution. By the 1990s, however, some had been abandoned. An example is the role of the luti, who sang and danced to his own dāyereh accompaniment, often transgressing the norms of ‘proper’ behaviour. Some performed as transvestites or sang verses praising opium and mocking the authorities. Another type of traditional entertainer, Hāji Firuz, was an actor with a blackened face who performed on the streets at the Persian New Year. He would recite verses in a high-pitched voice to dāyereh accompaniment. A high-pitched vocal style was also used in forms of puppet and marionette theatre (e.g. pahlavān-kachal and kheimeh shabbāzi), which are now rare.

In the 1960s, prior to the Revolution, a troupe of popular entertainers (dasteh-ye motreb) would include players of tār, violin, sornā, zarb, dohol and dāyereh, alongside dancers with finger cymbals, acrobats and actors, one of whom played female roles. Such troupes performed improvised comic skits at weddings and circumcisions in rural areas, and in cities they typically entertained crowds near bus stations. For several decades after the first Persian sound film (1934), films with musical numbers were a significant source for professional entertainers. Films with music in motrebi idiom are no longer produced.

These performers (motreb) enjoyed none of the artistic prestige carried by the cognate term, mutrib, in Arabic-speaking countries: in Iranian culture motreb carries derogatory connotations. Clowning is characteristic of the motreb and was highly valued at the Qajar courts (1779–1925). 20th-century rulers have not cultivated a taste for comedy and satire, although it remains strong in the population as a whole.

In some cities, notably Shiraz, Jews predominated in the profession of motreb, but numbers have declined dramatically through emigration to Israel. Motrebs do not work alone, since many solo lines require a response. Duos are common (e.g. a violinist and singer who also plays dāyereh or zarb); they are also less likely than larger groups to attract unfavourable attention.

Several regional traditions of instrumental music have gained a new respectability through the appearances of outstanding performers at festivals. The traditions have varying norms for linking together the components of a performance. In Lorestan the duo of sornā and dohol customarily begins with sangin se-pā (‘three steps, heavy’) and concludes with shāne-shaki (‘shaking shoulders’). Duos in northern Khorasan (sornā and dohol kamāncheh, and dohol or qooshmeh and dāyereh) are less likely to follow a prescribed sequence of pieces. They may freely mix the main dance-types (e.g. do qarseh, enaraki) with other familiar melodies (e.g. Köroğlu). Hemiola rhythms are extremely frequent in instrumental music at all stylistic levels throughout Iran.

I. Geographical and historical background

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

classical music traditions and general

A.N. Vaziri: Dastur-e tār (Berlin, 1913, 2/1936)

A.N. Vaziri: Dastur-e violon (Tehran, 1933)

A.N. Vaziri: Musiqi-e nazari, ii (Tehran, 1934)

R. d’Erlanger: La musique arabe, ii–iv (Paris, 1935–9)

A. Christensen: ‘La vie musicale dans la civilisation des Sassanides’, Bulletin de l’Association française des amis de l’orient, nos.20–21 (1936), 24

R. Khaleqi: Nazari be musiqi (Tehran, 1938)

H.G. Farmer: ‘An Outline History of Music and Musical Theory’, A Survey of Persian Art, ed. A.U. Pope and P. Ackerman (Oxford, 1939/R 1964), 2783–804

M. Barkechli: L’Art sassanide base de la musique arabe (Tehran, 1947)

M. Barkechli: ‘La musique iranienne’, L’histoire de la musique: Encyclopédie de la Pléiade, ix, ed. R. Manuel (Paris, 1960), 155–523

K. Khatschi: Der Dastgāh: Studien zur neuen persischen Musik (Regensburg, 1962)

E. Gerson Kiwi: The Persian Doctrine of Dastgāh-Composition: a Phenomenological Study in Musical Modes (Tel-Aviv, 1963)

M. Ma‘rufi and M. Barkechli: Radif-e musiqi-e Iran [Traditional art music of Iran] (Tehran, 1963)

E. Zonis: ‘Contemporary Art Music in Persia’, MQ, li (1965), 636–48

N. Caron and D. Safvate: Iran: les traditions musicales (Paris, 1966)

M.T. Massoudieh: Awāz-e šur: zur Melodiebildung in der persischen Kunstmusik (Regensburg, 1968)

G. Tsuge: ‘Rhythmic Aspects of the āvāz in Persian Music’, EthM, xiv (1970), 205–27

B. Nettl and B. Foltin: Darāmad of Chahārgāh: a Study in the Performance Practice of Persian Music (Detroit, 1972)

H. Farhat: The Traditional Art Music of Iran (Tehran, 1973)

F.L. Harrison: Time, Place and Music (Amsterdam, 1973), 63–72, 120–50

E. Zonis: Classical Persian Music: an Introduction (Cambridge, MA, 1973)

B. Nettl: ‘Aspects of Form in the Instrumental Performance of the Persian Avaz’, EthM, xviii (1974), 405–14

M.T. Massoudieh: Radif vocal de la musique traditionelle de l’Iran (Tehran 1978)

O. Wright: The Modal System of Arab and Persian Music A.D. 1250–1300 (London, 1978)

T. Ayako: ‘Performance of Persian Classical Vocal Music’, Musical Voices of Asia: Report of ‘Asian Traditional Performing Arts 1978’ (Tokyo, 1980), 83–99

M.L. Caton: The Classical ‘Tasnif’: a Genre of Persian Vocal Music (diss., UCLA, 1983)

J. During: La musique iranienne, tradition et évolution (Paris, 1984)

H. Modir: ‘Research Models in Ethnomusicology Applied to the Radif Phenomenon in Iranian Classical Music’, Pacific Review of Ethnomusicology, iii (1986), 63–78

M. Kiani: Radif-e Mirza Abdollah: haft dastgāh-e musiqi-e Iran (Tehran, 1987)

J. During: Musique et mystique dans les traditions de l’Iran (Paris, 1989)

H. Farhat: The Dastgāh Concept in Persian Music (Cambridge, 1990)

H. Farhat: ‘Scales and Intervals: Theory and Practice’, Irish Musical Studies, i (1990), 216–26

H. Farhat: ‘Western Musical Influences in Persia’, Musicological Annual, xxvii (1991), 76–96

B. Nettl: The Radif of Persian Music: Studies of Structure and Cultural Context (Champaign, Il, 1992)

L. Nooshin: The Process of Creation and Recreation in Persian Classical Music (diss., U. of London, 1996)

H. Farhat: ‘The Evolution of Style and Content in Performance Practices of Persian Traditional Music’, Musicological Annual, xxxiii (1997), 80–90

M.R. Darvīshī: Dā’erat al-ma ‘aret-e sāz-hā-ye Irān [Encyclopedia of the instruments of Iran] (in preparation)

regional and popular music traditions

A.E. Chodzko: Specimens of the Popular Poetry of Persia (London, 1842)

P.M. Sykes: ‘Notes on Musical Instruments in Khorasan, with Special Reference to the Gypsies’, Man, ix (1909), 161–4

E. Rossi and A. Bombaci: Elenco di drammi religiosi persiani (Vatican City, 1961)

M. Rezvani: Le théâtre et la danse en Iran (Paris, 1962)

J.W. Weryho: ‘Sīstānī-Persian Folklore’, Indo-Iranian Journal, v (1962), 276–307

N. Caron: ‘La musique shiite en Iran’, Encyclopédie des musiques sacrées. ed. J. Porte, i (Paris, 1968), 430–40

N. Caron and M. Pourtorab: ‘Expressions musicales de la vie quotidienne en Iran’, La musique dans la vie, ii (Paris, 1969), 43–69

I. Başgöz: ‘Turkish Hikaye-Telling Tradition in Azerbaijan, Iran’, Journal of American Folklore, lxxxiii (1970), 391–421

B. Nettl: ‘Examples of Popular and Folk Music from Khorasan’, Musik als Gestalt und Erlebnis: Festschrift Walter Graf (Vienna, 1970), 138–46

S. Blum: ‘The Concept of the ‘Asheq in Northern Khorasan’, AsM, iv/1 (1972), 27–47

S. Blum: Musics in Contact: the Cultivation of Oral Repertories in Meshed, Iran (diss., U. of Illinois, Urbana, 1972)

L.D. Loeb: ‘The Jewish Musician and the Music of Fars’, AsM, iv/1 (1972), 3–14

B. Nettl: ‘Persian Popular Music in 1969’, EthM, xvi (1972), 218–39

E. Neubauer: ‘Muharram Bräuche im heutigen Persien’, Der Islam, xlix (1972), 249–72

I. Tschakert: Wandlungen persischer Tanzmusikgattungen unter westlichem Einfluss (Hamburg, 1972)

M.T. Massoudieh: ‘Hochzeitslieder aus Balūčestān’, Jb für musikalische Volks- und Völkerkunde, vii (1973), 58–69, 7 transcriptions, 2 pls, [with disc]

S. Blum: ‘Persian Folksong in Meshhed (Iran), 1969’, YIFMC, vi (1974), 86–114

M.T. Massoudieh: Tajzieh va tahlil-e chāhārdah tarāneh-he mahalli-e Iran [Analysis of 14 Iranian folksongs] (Tehran, 1974)

J. Kuckertz and M.T. Massoudieh: ‘Volksgesänge aus Iran’, Beiträge zur Musik des Vorderen Orients und seinen Einflussbereichen: Kurt Reinhard zum 60. Geburtstag (Berlin, 1975), 217–29

C.F.A. Farr: The Music of Professional Musicians of Northwest Iran (Azerbaijan) (diss., U. of Washington, 1976)

J. Kuckertz and M.T. Massoudieh: Musik in Bušehr (Süd-Iran) (Munich, 1976)

L. Loeb: Outcaste: Jewish Life in Southern Iran (New York, 1977), 155–63, 260–62

P.J. Chelkowski, ed.: Ta‘ziyeh: Ritual and Drama in Iran (New York, 1979)

M.T. Massoudieh: Musiqi-e Torbat-e Jām (Tehran, 1980)

M.T. Massoudieh: Musiqi-e Baluchestān (Tehran, 1985; Ger. trans., 1988)

T. Reckord: Chant in Popular Iranian Shi‘ism (diss., UCLA, 1987)

M.T. Massoudieh: Musiqi-e mazhabi-e Iran, i: Musiqi-e ta‘ziyeh [Religious music of Iran, i: the Music of the ta‘ziyeh] (Tehran, 1988)

J. During: ‘Structure du rythme dans la musique de transe du Baloutchistan’, RdM, lxxvi (1990), 213–25

B. Bustan and M.R. Darvishi: Haft awrang: moruri bar musiqi-e sonnati va mahalli-e Iran [Ursa major: a survey of the traditional and regional music of Iran] (Tehran, 1992)

M.R. Darvīshī: Moqademmehi bar shenākht-e musiqi-e navāhi-e Iran, i: Manāteq-e joonoob (Hormozgān, Bushehr, Khuzestān) [An introduction to the music of Iran’s regions, i: the southern districts (Hormozgan, Bushehr, Khuzestan)] (Tehran, 1994)

E. Neubauer: ‘Die Schöne von Kopf bis Fuss: ein volkstümliches persisches Gedicht und die Bilder der dobeytī-Vierzeiler’, Festschrift Ewald Wagner zum 65. Geburtstag, ii: Studien zur arabischen Dichtung (Stuttgart, 1994), 567–85

S. Blum: ‘Musical Questions and Answers in Iranian Xorāsąn’, EM: Annuario degli Archivi di Etnomusicologia della Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia, iv (1996), 145–63

S. Fatemi: La musique et la vie musicale du Mazanderan: le problème du changement (diss. U. of Paris-Nanterre, 1997)

A. Youssefzadeh: Les bardes du Khorassan iranien (diss., U. of Paris-Nanterre, 1997)

recordings

Iran: baxtyâri, nomades de la montagne, coll. J.-P. Digard, SELAF-ORSTOM CETO 747 (1974)

Musique iranienne, M. Kiani (santur), D. Tala‘i (tār), J. Shemirani (tombak), Harmonia Mundi HMC 90391 (1980)

Iran: musique persane, classical singing backed by tār, ‘ud, kamāncheh, santur and tombak, Ocora 559008 (1988)

Azerbaidjan: musique et chants des âshiq, coll. J. During, rec. 1981–9, Archives Internationales de Musique Populaire (1989)

Iran: Persian Classical Music, F. Payvar (santur), H. Zarif (tār), R. Badii (kamānche), K. Parvane (singer), Electra Explorer Series, Nonesuch H 72060, rec. 1974 (1991)

Music of Ghuchan (Khorassan, Iran), dotar players and singers: Hadj Ghorban Soleimani, Alireza Soleimani, Silkroad Images SR 100 (1991)

Baloutchistan: musiques d’extases et de guérison, coll. J. During, rec. 1978–90, OCORA C 580017–18 (1992)

Yadegari Album, F. Payvar (santur), M. Esmaili (tombak), Pars Video (1993)

Yād-vāre-ye [Memorial of] Ustād Shahriyār, Heydar Bābā, Ashiq Hassan Eskandari (singer, with baglama, balaban and def), Māhur Cultural and Artistic Institute, Tehran (1993)

The Music of Lorestan, Iran, Shahmirza Moradi (sornā), Nimbus NI 5397 (1994)

Music of the Bards from Iran: Northern Khorasan, Haj Ghorban Soleimani and Alireza Soleimani, Kereshmeh Records KCD-106 (1995)

Musiqi-e navahī-e Iran / Iranian Regional Music, Iran Music Association (1998) [96 cassettes in 16 albums with notes in Persian and English]

Iran: Bandes du Khorassan, coll. A. Youssefzadeh, rec. 1997, OCORA C 560136 (1998)

Iranzo y Herrero, Agustín

(b Allaga, bap. 28 Aug 1748; d Alicante, 27 Sept 1804). Spanish composer. He was a choirboy at the Pilar cathedral of Zaragoza, where he studied under Bernardo Miralles. In 1768 he applied, unsuccessfully, for the post of maestro de capilla at Las Descalzas Reales, in Madrid; in 1773 he was appointed maestro de capilla of the collegiate church of Alicante, a post he retained until his death. Over 100 of his religious works, including masses, motets, Lamentations and villancicos, are extant (in Alicante Cathedral). Although his theoretical works (including Defensa del arte de la música, Murcia, 1802, and numerous articles) show him to be violently opposed to Eximeno’s innovations, in his compositions he boldly abandoned the secular Italianate style of the 18th century in favour of a more severe style for his religious music, with carefully wrought forms and much harmonic interest. His music continued to be sung long after his death.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

B. Saldoni: Diccionario biográfico-bibliográfico de efemérides de músicos españoles, ii (Madrid, 1880/R), 222ff

F. Pedrell: P. Antonio Eximeno (Madrid, 1920), 60–61

J. de D. Aguilar Gómez: Historia de la música en la provincia de Alicante (Alicante, 1970, 2/1983), 43–4

F.J. León Tello: La teoría española de la música en los siglos XVII y XVIII (Madrid, 1974), 648

J. Flores Fuente: ‘Augustín Iranzo, un aragonés en el Alicante del siglo XVIII’, Nassarre, vii/2 (1991), 33–72

A. Palencia Soliveres: Música sacra y música profana en Alicante: la capilla de música de San Nicolás (siglos XVI–XVIII) (Alicante, 1996)

JOSÉ LÓPEZ-CALO

Iraq, Republic of

(Arab. Jumhouriya al ‘Iraqia).

Modern Iraq covers the region of ancient Mesopotamia between two great rivers, the Tigris and Euphrates. With its first royal cities, discovery of writing and advanced overall culture, this country gave birth to the oldest cradle of civilization. Situated at the north-eastern end of the Arab world, Iraq, with an area of 438,317 km², is an important meeting-place of the various cultures of the Middle East (Persian, Turkish and others).

The country has rich agricultural plains, mountains, deserts and marshes, with cities and towns built along the rivers. The population has recently grown from about 11 million (1975) to some 23·11 million (2000 estimate). Arab Muslims form the majority (75%). Kurds form the second most important ethnic group, and there are also Turkmens (mainly around Kirkuk), Gypsies (kawlīyya) and blacks (in the South). 95% of the population is Muslim (Sunni and Shi‘a sects and some heterodox groups). There are Christians of the Chaldean, Nestorian and Armenian churches. Other religious groups are the Yezidis and the Sabaeens (known as Christians of St John). A very ancient Jewish community existed until 1950.

II. Art music and related traditions

III. Vernacular traditions.

IV. Modern developments

SCHEHERAZADE QASSIM HASSAN

I. Geographical and historical background

From a socio-cultural and musical point of view, Iraq can be divided into four main geographical regions (fig.1). The central plains of ancient Mesopotamia lie at its core. The lower basin of the rivers Tigris and Euphrates stretches from Baghdad to the marshes of the south-east, with their cities Nasiriyah (on the Euphrates) and Amarah (on the Tigris). The marsh region is inhabited by Shi‘a Muslims and Sabaeens.

The mountainous north borders on other Arabic-Turkish and Persian cultures. This region houses important minority ethnic communites and sects: the Sorani (eastern) and Bahdinan (western) Kurds, and Turkmens. It is the home of the ancient Syriac Christian Church and of the Muslim sect and Yezidi other minor sects such as the Shabak and Sarlia.

The desert region comprises three-fifths of Iraq, divided between al-jazīra (north-west) and al-bādiya (south). Bedouin inhabitants are nomadic (Shammār and ‘Iniza tribes) and semi-settled, the latter occupying areas adjoining the fertile plain. On the upper Euphrates, the ancient towns of Anah, Rawah and Hit represent a blend of Bedouin culture with pastoral and rural sedentary town populations of tribal origin.

Finally, the extreme south-eastern region, where the two rivers unite to form the Shatt al-Arab, is influenced by the Gulf and traditions from the Arabian peninsula. It is populated by Arab rural people and city dwellers and by people of African origin. Basra is the major city, and Zubayr is a small town.

The music of Iraq has been documented from very early epochs. Archaeological excavations have uncovered information about music of the Sumerian, Akkadian, Babylonian and Assyrian periods (5th to 1st millennium bce). At the royal cemetery of Ur, three examples of the first lyres of human civilization were found, dating to c2600 bce. Silver flutes, a great number of multi-shaped terracotta rattles, bronze bells, cymbals and clappers made of bronze and shell were also found. Hundreds of reliefs, plaques, murals, stelae, cylinder seals, vases and statues show Mesopotamian musicians playing a wide variety of musical instruments. Scholars have also deciphered cuneiform texts dealing with many aspects of musical theory and practice.

The other important historical period for music was under Abbasid rule (750–1258), when Iraq was the centre of an Islamic multi-ethnic empire and the meeting-point of cultures from Greece, the Middle East and other parts of Asia. Its influence stretched westwards to North Africa and Spain. The first important Arabo-Islamic musicological treatises derive from the Abbasid period, and most significant scholars lived, wrote or studied in Baghdad: al-Kindī (d c874), al-Munajjim (d 912), al-Fārābī (d 950), al-Isfahānī (897–967) and safī al-Din (d 1294).

The catastrophic collapse of Baghdad under the Mongol onslaught shattered its elaborate cultural life and marked the beginning of successive periods of foreign domination by Turkmen tribes, Persians and Ottomans. Musical erudition regressed to such a point that concrete evidence of musical life is scarce, although traces of Turkish and Persian influence are evident in the urban secular classical repertory. (See also Arab music, §I.)

The secular music traditions, instruments and dances of all Iraqis derive from Arab, Kurdish and Turkmen cultures. To a lesser degree, in the extreme south, they may belong to traditions of the Arabian Gulf. Each region of Iraq has its own specific musical features with regard to the secular and sacred functions of music, instruments, dances, and the role of the musician. At the same time, there are characteristics common to the whole of Iraq. Vocal expression is dominant in all Iraqi music, and improvisational free-rhythmic singing and metric songs (including dance-songs) play important roles. The boundaries between art and folk, secular and religious music are not clearly delineated, and interrelations, mutual influences and overlapping repertories are common.

II. Art music and related traditions

The art music of Iraq revolves essentially around the Arab modal system called maqām (see Mode, §V, 2). Its repertory serves as a formal and melodic reservoir for religious, ritual and secular art music, for instrumental improvisations and sometimes even for arranged music. Prior to the mid-1930s (with the creation of the Fine Arts Institute and formal teaching of written theory), local art musicians were not conscious of the theoretical concept of maqāms as melodic modes. A complex oral verbalized theory existed, and from the 1950s this was combined with the written tool of Arab music theory.

Iraqi Bedouin and rural popular music is, in fact, based on a number of tetrachords known in Arab music, while Iraqi art music (Iraqi maqāms and religious vocal genres) is based on the combination of similar or different tetrachords forming a modal scale of one or two octaves with possible changes of some degrees.

1. Iraqi art music (‘maqām’).

The local performance tradition, al-maqām al-‘irāqī represents an important secular repertory of many semi-improvisational compositions, linking classical and popular poetry and based on a sophisticated unwritten traditional theory. It is believed that the oldest extant repertory, transmitted orally, dates back at least four centuries, probably with some even earlier features.

According to early 20th-century ideas, the seven basic modes or maqāms (maqāmāt asliyya) are rāst, beyāt, segāh, ajam, nawā, hijāz and sabā. All others are ‘derived’ maqāms (maqāmāt far‘iyya). In inventories dating from the 1970s, chahārgāh replaces nawā as a basic maqām. In the 1960s and 70s the Iraqi maqām repertory numbered some 50 individual maqāms. Since then the tradition has undergone certain changes (see §IV below). However, the total number of maqāms in the repertory has always been subject to variation. New maqāms may be introduced and others may be dropped or altered (because they resemble others or because they are difficult to perform). During the 1990s important maqāms continued to be performed in small gatherings, but they were otherwise avoided (for large or non-connoisseur audiences).

Each maqām in the repertory has a particular preconceived multi-parameter scheme concerning its modal, melodic, rhythmic and formal organization. The performer is expected to respect its traditional framework and to enhance its formal skeleton with personal improvisations, ornamentation and musical developments.

Different maqāms make variable use of the following elements. Tahrīr currently designates the opening of a maqām, sung on vocalizations (syllables, words or phrases) and preceding the beginning of the sung verse. Badwa has the same function as tahrīr but differs in its very brief opening. Jaisa, a descending cadence, marks the end of the first part of the maqām. Meyāna is the ‘middle’ formal melodic part in tripartite maqāms, sung in a high register. Sayha, also in a high register, is (unlike mayāna) musically undeveloped. Qarar designates either a descending movement to the lower degree or any sung portion in that register. Quta‘ or awsāl are melodic pieces occurring in any part of the maqām, serving as modulations or structural bridges to higher or lower registers, as aesthetically embellishing sections or as a means to enhance or change a prevailing mood. In general, their place is predetermined, but some are used freely.

In the early 20th century, the secular maqām repertory was performed in five cycles termed fusūl (sing. fasl). The remaining maqāms were sung outside the order of the secular cycle, either in religious cycles or as independent, important maqāms.

Other forms play a role in maqām performance: instrumental rhythmic introductions and solo improvisations, as well as vocal genres. Singers also use free poetic verses followed by popular melismatic songs (ubūthīyya). A pesta (metred song) normally follows each maqām, preparing the audience for the one to follow.

Melodically, the Iraqi maqām repertory draws on the music of all communities living in Iraq. Within it, one finds melodies from Arab rural and Bedouin people, and from Kurds and Turkmens. Melodies from outside Iraq also appear: Turkish, Persian and Arabic material from other parts of the Arab world.

Three sung poetic forms are used in Iraqi maqām proper: (1) the qasīda (classical Arabic ode); (2) the takhmīs (quintary verse based on two hemistiches of a known qasīda, with three added hemistiches); (3) mawwāl (a major colloquial poetic form, also called zheiri). Classical texts are used by 33 Iraqi maqāms, and some 20 maqāms employ the mawwāl.

In secular performances, the Iraqi maqām is accompanied by al-shālghī al-baghdādī (the Baghdad ensemble). This consists of the santūr (hammered dulcimer) and jūza (four-string lute or fiddle with coconut resonator; fig.2) accompanied by two or three drums: tabla (single-headed drum), duff zinjārī (frame drum with discs set into the frame) and naqqāra (double kettledrum). Occasionally a large frame drum replaces the naqqāra. The traditional role of the shālghī ensemble was to anticipate and lead the singer. Some singers prefer to avoid this constraint, choosing to perform with al-takht al-sharqī (the oriental ensemble). Al-takht al-sharqī performed Arab art and light music in Egypt and the Levant and was introduced into Iraq in the 1920s. It consists of the qānūn (plucked zither), nay (end-blown flute), ‘ūd (lute) and two types of drum, one being a frame drum.

The Iraqi maqām is generally performed by a specialist singer known as qāri’ al-maqām. Nowadays other types of singer (mutrīb or mughannī) perform some maqāms, but only real specialists can perform the complete repertory. The best representative of the old school of maqām singing was Rashid al-Qundarchī (d 1945). Other important 20th-century masters were Ahmad Zaydān (d 1938), Muhammad al-Gubanshī (1901–89) and his disciple Yūsuf ‘Umar (1918–87), perhaps the last important maqām singer (fig.3). At present the tradition is in decline, due to lack of patronage.

Before the emergence of modern music and life-styles, the Iraqi maqām was the main form of entertainment for city-dwellers in Baghdad, Mosul and Kirkuk. It could be heard everywhere and was performed at weddings, circumcisions or any secular occasion. Concerts were organized in music-lovers’ homes. Until the 1940s, well-known singers performed for large audiences in a number of public coffee-houses. Certain maqāms were also performed in the traditional gymnastic houses (zūrkhāna) to accompany muscular exercises.

Ever since its creation in 1936, the national radio station has regularly broadcast maqām singing, and from 1950 there have been weekly programmes on the national television. Today maqāms are performed on stage, in concert halls and other modern multi-functional gathering-places (notably, the Museum of Popular Art in Baghdad, on Fridays) but seldom in traditional circumstances.

2. Islamic religious chanting.

Qur’anic recitation (qirā’a or tilāwa), call to prayer (adhān), supplication (du‘ā) and glorification (tamjīd) are types of religious chanting performed in mosques. They are not regarded as singing (ghinā’), although they use melodies that follow the rules of the melodic modes used in the Iraqi maqām. Indeed, Qur’anic reciters usually excel in maqām singing, and thanks to them hundreds of Iraqi melodies have been preserved.

Recitation is normally performed solo. Collective recitation is used in teaching and in some Baghdad mosques on the eve of Friday. During recitation of the whole Qur’an, sometimes as many as 30 reciters might successively perform. Alternation between two reciters is common during mourning ceremonies.

Qur’anic recitation has its own local Iraqi style. As elsewhere, it varies between a simple form with limited-range melodies (tartīl) and more developed forms which include improvisation, ornamentation, repetition and changes of register. In the Iraqi school of recitation, a good voice is of prime concern, followed by knowledge of melodies (anghām) and mastery of the linguistic science of recitation (tajwīd). An Institute of Melodic Studies (ma‘had al-dirāsāt al-naghamiyya) exists for teaching these. The rules of tajwīd (correct recitation) are also taught in the Institute of Melodic Studies (Ma‘had al-dirasat al-naghamiyya). In the 1970s the noted religious scholar, prayer leader and maqām specialist Shaykh Jalāl al-Hanafī (b 1915) opened a centre for teaching Qur’anic recitation to women in a 13th-century Baghdad mosque (Jāmi‘ al-Khulafā’).

The Iraqi school of Qur’anic recitation has always been known for using melodies, and in Iraq the use of melody has not been a polemical issue for religious debate. But Qur’anic recitation is not supposed to lead to secular ecstasy or to a possible confusion between purely secular singing and religious recitation. Consequently, religious orthodox authorities sometimes criticize Qur’anic reciters for the beauty of their execution, if it diverts the intent of worshippers.

3. The Prophet's birthday ritual (‘mawlīd’).

This widespread and popular ritual, al-mawlīd al-nabawī, is practised in both sacred and secular urban life. Two versions apply to diametrically opposed types of occasion. Mawlīd farah (happy anniversary), based on the text of Ahmad bin Hasan al-Bakrī, is performed on the Prophet’s anniversary or any happy occasion (marriage, circumcision, benediction, fulfilment of a wish or return from Mecca). Mawlīd kidir (sad anniversary), based on the text of Barazanchi, is organized on solemn national and state occasions and to commemorate death.

A mawlīd ceremony is performed in four cycles (fusūl), each composed of a succession of several predetermined maqāms. Vocal parts are performed either by a religious sheikh or by a secular maqām singer who enjoys greater freedom of interpretation here than in secular contexts. The soloists relate the life and deeds of the Prophet in classical odes (qasīda) or mawwāl poems in vernacular Arabic, with intermittent frame drum accompaniment.

Group singing of colloquial metric songs (called tanzila, madih or shughul) follows, with continuous frame drum accompaniment. Tanzila songs usually glorify the Prophet and his family, but they may touch on contemporary social events. An extremely emotive part of the ritual is preseved for popular vocal forms called fragiyyāt (songs of separation). Performed in dialect, these include the rural ubuthiyya and Bedouin rukbanī or ‘atābā.

In many historical circumstances, al-mawlīd rituals have been transformed into platforms for social or anti-colonial protests. A most important performer and composer of tanzila songs was mulla ‘uthmān al-Mausīlli (1854–1923).

4. Sufi ritual (‘dhikr’).

The two main Sunni Sufi local orders, Qādiriyya and Rifā‘īyya, use music, poetry and dance as a means to help attain mystical ecstasy in their quest for union with God. The Qādirī rituals (dhikr or tahlīla) are sung without musical instruments and can be performed in mosques. One to four solo cycles, based on some parts of the Iraqi maqām, are sung by the sheikh or a secular performer. This is followed by metric praise-songs madīh (pl. madā’ih) performed by the chorus of maddāha (glorifiers), while devotees perform dance movements with vigorous respiratory exercises based on a repetitive vocal ostinato invoking God. This results in an impressive polyrhythmic and polymelodic effect.

The Rifā‘ī ritual differs in that it involves musical instruments and techniques of body mortification. A classical ode (qasīda) is sung in turn by each glorifier, while the others vigorously beat their frame drums between the lines of sung text. Depending on the intensity of the ritual, the number of frame drums can increase, in addition to cymbals and a kettledrum.

The Mawlawiyya (Mevlevi) order dwindled in Iraq after the fall of Ottoman rule, but some aspects of its traditions persist in other orders. The nay (end-blown flute) and kettledrum were used by the Talabiyya order in Kirkuk, and some malawi dancers regularly perform in Qādirī rituals. Since the 1991 Gulf War, the Kurdish Kasnazaniyya has become the most prominent order in Baghdad, though it was originally based in the north. This order combines Qādirī-style singing with Rifā‘ī techniques of body mortification. (See Islamic religious music.)

5. The Baghdad ‘ūd school.

The relatively recent creation of this school of ‘ūd-playing is based on conccepts of music that were previously foreign to Iraqi traditions. It was the product of a unique encounter between the Arabo-Ottoman ‘ūd and Western music technique derived from the cello. Its founder was Director of the Fine Arts Institute, the King of Iraq’s cousin, Prince Muhieddin al-Din Haidar (1888–1967) [al–Sharif] of Hijaz in Saudi Arabia, a virtuoso ‘ūd player in Turkish style. He opted for a fundamental change in the status of the ‘ūd from a traditional instrument for accompanying the voice to a solo concert instrument.

He taught the ‘ūd according to the methods and techniques of the violin family. He changed the ‘ūd’s left hand technique, the position of the fingers on the neck (introducing permanent use of the 4th finger), imposed the systematic use of positions and designated strings, and added a sixth single string to the instrument (in addition to its five double strings). These changes increased the instrument’s technical facility and speed of playing.

For many decades, these technical advances were unpopular, rejected by major traditional players and the general listener. Exponents of the Baghdad ‘ūd school were criticized for being unable to play in a traditional group and for not knowing the local music. Not wanting to be marginalized, ‘ūd soloists began using local melodic material based on the Iraqi maqām, and they started performing traditional improvisations.

Among al-Sharif’s many disciples were Salman Shukur (b 1921) and the brothers Djamil Bashir (1921–77) and Munir Bashir (b 1930). Most important from the younger generation are Ali al-Iman (b 1940s) and Nassir Shemma (b 1963; fig.4). The activities of the Baghdad ‘ūd school resulted in a gradual increase in acceptability of instrumental solos in general. Important soloists on other instruments are: Salem Hussayn (b 1923), Khudair al-Shibli (b 1929), Hassan al-Shakartchi and Bahir al-Ridjab (b 1951) on the qānūn; Khidr al-Yas (b 1930) on the nay; Hashim al-Ridjab (c 1921) and Muhammad Zaki (b 1955) on the santūr; Shaubi Ibrahim (b 1925) and Dakhil ‘Arran (b 1960) on the jūza; Jamil Bashir and Ghanim Haddad on the violin. Some percussion players also developed great virtuosity, among them Ahmad Jirgis and Sami Abdul Ahhad.

III. Vernacular traditions.

1. Social contexts.

(i) General.

Music is part of the events of social life, both secular and religious. Its importance varies according to the occasion. Secular songs with religious themes and moral ideas are performed by all communities and can figure within any vocal genre. Songs accompany the daily work of shepherds, masons, farmers and women. Between birth and death any circumstances – such as graduation from school, return from pilgrimage or fulfilment of a wish – may also imply the use of music.

In some life-cycle celebrations, such as baptisms among the Yezidi, the religious chanter (qawwāl) sings indoors with the sacred instrumental duo, while secular musicians play in the outer space. Marriage and circumcision ceremonies and calendar feasts are major and complex multiform occasions in which private indoor and collective outdoor festivities are held simultaneously. They have a very wide spectrum of music with a broadly based repertory and may last for as long as seven days.

In urban centres women hold private celebrations where female professional musicians (mullāyāt) perform popular songs accompanied by drums and tambourines. (Before the 1950s Jewish professional musicians (daggagāt) were available, and they used kettledrums in addition to other drums.) Women in the audience participate with responsorial singing, hand-clapping, dancing and ululations. Wealthier families invite Gypsy groups or well-known Iraqi maqām singers, or they may even organize sacred rituals. More recently, local pop singers have come to dominate such festivities.

In rural areas, festive occasions feature collective open-air dances. Dabka is the generic term for any secular communal dance performed respectively by men, women, or men and women together. The dancers form a semicircle holding each other by the shoulders or waist, tapping their feet on the ground. Among Arabs of the upper Euphrates, the collective dance is called shūbī. Both dabka and shūbī are performed to the music of a solo singer accompanied by drum and shawm (tabl wa zurna) or double clarinet (mitbaj). In the extreme south, the ‘ardh and samrī dances are performed by two groups of dancers who sing antiphonally, accompanied by a round shallow double-headed frame drum (tabl al-‘ardh) or other drums. In central Iraq, a dance originally connected with warfare, the sās, is often performed at marriages, circumcisions and other feasts. Two dancers on foot or on horseback brandish swords (or staves) and shields, accompanied with purely instrumental music from the drum-shawm duo and two kettledrums.

Professional Gypsy musicians (kawlīyya) are the most important element of any Arab festive occasion. The main professional musicians of western, southern and central Iraq, they perform in families and enliven any type of Arab festivity, catering essentially for male audiences. A female soloist dances while singing pieces from the rural and Bedouin Arabic repertory or some urban maqāms. A male accompanist plays the wooden monochord spike fiddle (rabāb) or a modern metallic version of that instrument. Extremely popular is the hasha‘ ‘scorpion’ dance (fig.5), in which either the dancer's head and shoulders are flung back or she crouches on her knees, moving to the rhythm of the participants' hand-clapping and verbal interjections of ‘hasha‘’ (‘lie down!’). All central and southern styles are characterized by use of regular rhythmic patterns and brilliant, fast, ornamental and strongly rhythmic sequences.

In mourning ceremonies, the Qur’an is recited for three days in men's gatherings. Sometimes a mawlīd or a dhikr may complete the mourning ceremony. Women's ceremonies last seven days. A female mourner (addāda) poetically recites the merits of the dead person and expresses the sorrow of separation. The women's extreme grief is released by the short and punctuated guttural sounds they produce responding to the mourner's singing. They also beat their chests and faces and perform a mourning dance (shaina). Bedouins usually mourn in silence. However, in certain cases, marāthī (eulogies) are recited by men.

If the dead person was a child, a youth, an unmarried person or was newly married but without children, the family simulates marriage festivities. The ensemble al-mūsīqā al-sha‘biyya (popular music), with its brass instruments of military origin together with the drum and the shawm, is invited to precede the burial procession. Marriage songs are performed around a coffin surrounded by decorated trays with candles. All Iraqi religious communities observe this practice.

Apart from life-cycle ceremonies, sociable gatherings are an important context for popular music performed by amateurs for pleasure, to entertain themselves and their friends. In the north, Turkmen and Kurdish amateur musicians meet in the evening after work to sing songs about love and separation and epics accompanied by the long-necked lute (tunbūr). In rural areas of the central and southern Euphrates, musicians play music in the communal gathering place (mudīf or diwāniyya). They perform poetic creations and ubuthiyya songs, which have great emotional impact. Similarly, Bedouin people of the western desert region sing and play the fiddle (rabāb) in the mudīf. In the south-east Amarah region, rich feudal sheikhs might hire musicians to entertain visitors with various types of song (mhamadaoui, ubūthīyya and pesta) for several nights on end.

(ii) Shi‘a popular religious ceremonies.

Shi‘a Muslims commemorate the martyrdom of the Prophet Muhammad's grandson Imam Husayn at Karbala (central Iraq) in 680 ce with wide-scale and complex ceremonies. They begin on the first of the month of Muharram, continuing for a period of ten to 40 days. Many thousands of pilgrims arrive at Karbala and Kadhimain from all over the Shi‘a world. Ceremonies feature collective responsorial and antiphonal singing, ritual dances, theatrical presentations, body mortifications and instrumental music.

For the first ten days, there are mourning gatherings (al-qirāyāt al-husayniyya). The martyrdom story is developed on a daily basis, with specific focus on a character or major event. Each day several narrators circulate from group to group repeating the story of the day. At women's mourning gatherings a specialist female narrator (mullāya) declaims in a highly dramatic style. Participants weep loudly, striking their faces, chests and thighs according to her instructions, and assistant mullas perform a mourning dance (jūla). At men's sessions, which are held in a public place used by devotees, participants beat their chests and heads or twirl in circles as the male narrator (qāri’/qāri’ husaynī) declaims.

Passion plays (tashābah) portray the historic events surrounding the death of Husayn. They are organized during this ten-day period, either concurrently with the recitation sessions or separately in the street. They are staged with costumes, horses and other decorations. Specific melodic rhythmic motifs and musical instruments symbolize the major characters of the drama. An ensemble of ‘sad instruments’ plays when the drama concerns Husayn, and long trumpets adopt the scornful tones of his enemies with ‘Umayyad melodies’.

Events culminate on the tenth of Muharram, ‘Ashūrā (‘the tenth’). Thousands of participants from different regions and countries form processions. In each procession group (dasta) the people respond to a solo lead singer, beating their chests in rhythm to the words or scourging their backs with metallic chains to the accompaniment of the instrumental ensemble (fig.6). Here there is no prescribed melody: Bedouin, rural and even pop melodies can be heard alongside Bahraini, Indian or Persian melodies sung by pilgrims.

(iii) Rituals of spirit possession.

These rituals are practised by the African-derived population in Basra. A musical ceremony, dagg (pl. dgūg), which implies music, songs, ritual dances and a specific ensemble of musical instruments, is regarded as an offering made to conciliate the good spirits and is never addressed to an evil spirit. Depending on the type of spirit, which varies according to its nature and familial or tribal origins, one of a number of musical traditions is prescribed. In all musical ceremonies, solo singing alternates with mixed group responsorial singing. Repetitive rhythm, provided by African-type drums, is a fundamental element of any possession ceremony. The six-string lyre (tambūra) appears only in the most widespread and important ceremony, which is called al-nūbān.

2. Musicians.

Social attitudes towards musicians are equivocal. They are regarded as indispensable for the communal expression of joy, and their talent is recognized and appreciated. At festivals and social gatherings the very best musicians are sought out.

Amateur musicians command respect, but it is traditionally deemed to be degrading for professional musicians to provide entertainment for remuneration and to depend on the whims of others. The situation changed somewhat in the 1970s, when modern institutions gave musicians diplomas, job security and welfare support. The male professional drum and shawm duo (tabl wa zurna) is common throughout Iraq. These musicians perform solely in a secular context, at popular dances and festivities.

In the north, professional instrumentalists are often drawn from the Yezidi sect or minority ethnic groups. They provide musical accompaniment to the various collective dances. The amateur ‘āshūq (‘mystic lovers’) or shu‘arā’ al-‘ishq (‘poets of mystic love’) are itinerant, travelling from village to village singing religious songs and chronicles of their people. They compose words and music and play the long-necked lute.

Among the true Bedouin nomads of the west, there are no professionals. The three terms used to designate the musician relate to the text rather than to the music itself: al-shā‘ir (‘poet’), rā‘ī al-qasīd (‘guardian of the poem’) and al-adīb (‘man of letters’). Professional musicians, al-qāsūd (‘he who searches’) or al-shā‘ir al-mutakassib (‘poet who expects to be paid’), are found among the semi-settled tribes and among the Sliba, the only tribe willing to perform at other people's festivities for financial gain. Among the peasant populations of rural regions, the very act of earning a living from music automatically excludes the individual from his group. The peasants play for their own enjoyment. For celebrations they may hire the professionals of the region: Gypsy musicians or players of the drum and shawm.

In the Basra region of the south-east, contrary to Mesopotamian soloistic traditions, musicians play collectively in ensembles. The black inhabitants of Zubayr have polyrhythmic shadda ensembles with multiple drums and frame drums. Another type of instrumental group is known as the khasshāba ensemble of Abūl’-Khasib, and essentially employs hourglass drums. In both these ensembles, singers, instrumentalists and hand-clappers have a complex division of musical parts. They are remunerated communally for their performances, but as individuals they are not professional musicians.

3. Songs.

Throughout Iraq there are two types of song: melismatic and rhythmically measured or metrical. Melismatic songs are solos in free rhythm, which facilitates improvisation, whereas metrical songs are sung in unison, responsorially or antiphonally (with a soloist). Some metrical songs are dance-songs.

(i) Melismatic.

In the north, among the Kurds, Turkmens and Assyrians, the most prevalent melismatic form is the epic song, usually performed without instrumental accompaniment. It begins with a high-pitched cry that gradually descends; when the singer runs out of breath, the group sustains the tonic as a murmured drone, enabling the soloist to pause before continuing. Common themes are love, separation, war, history and diverse social events.

Among urban Turkmens the most popular unmetred song types are the quriat and ghazal, performed in maqām style. Kurdish lauk and hairan songs are based on unmetred poetic prose. Intense vibrato and regular changes of register are stylistic characteristics of the hawra songs.

Among Bedouin and rural Arabs, poetic structure determines the song type. Bedouin in particular sing for the pleasure of the words, not for the musical sound. The ‘Bedouin ode’ (qasīd badawī) is similar to the classical qasīda. As in other well-known forms, the hadī and hijaynī camel songs, short phrases are repeated several times, their compass rarely exceeding a 4th or 5th.

Semi-settled Bedouin sing the ‘atābā, the swehlī and the nayel (also known as ‘rabāb songs’). The ‘atābā is attributed to the Jibur tribe of the Tigris region and also found around the Euphrates, a strophic quatrain based on classical prosody with aaab rhyme scheme. Short sung phrases alternate with longer melismatic passages within the limited tonal range of tetrachords. In the Tigris region the ‘atābā is followed by the swehlī (based on two unrhymed hemistichs) or the nayel (rhyming two-lined verses). The latter is said to have been invented by a woman, and is especially sung by boatmen and horticulturalists. Bedouin songs are concerned with love, separation, incitement to battle and Bedouin life, e.g. sheep-shearing, well-digging or the harvest (among the semi-settled tribes).

In the Mesopotamian plain there are two main melismatic song types: the ubuthiyya and mawwāl. The ubuthiyya (‘that which gives pain’) is called ‘the lady of all singing’. It is popular among urban, rural and Gypsy populations of the middle and southern Euphrates around Nasiriyah, and also in the Tigris region of Amarah (under the variant term, athiyya). It is a quatrain, composed in colloquial Arabic, based on classical prosody with a rhyme scheme aaab. The first three hemistiches are monorhyme ending with a homonym, while the last line, identifying the ubuthiyya, should end ‘-eyya’ or ‘-iyya’.

Melodically the ubuthiyya is based on different Iraqi naghms of maqāms also known in urban music. Iraqi specialists identify more than 30 styles of ubuthiyya, whose names relate to geographical locations, ethnic groups, tribes etc. The vocal lines are extended melismas of quite a limited melodic range (within a tetrachord or a 5th). Each strophe is followed by a collective murmured drone on the tonic, called wanna (moaning). Sometimes rhythms are produced with a string of beads on a tray or table or, recently, the single-headed drum. The ubuthiyya is also popular in Baghdad, within the mawlīd ritual and maqām evening (see §II, 3 and 1 above). It has its own urban composers, singers and styles.

The mawwāl, a speciality of Amarah, is one of the most popular genres of sung poetry throughout the country. The term also designates any free improvisational style of singing (including poetic forms other than the true mawwāl). Sources state that this genre originated in Baghdad during the Abbasid period. The mawwāl poetry known in Iraq is mawwāl baghdādī, also called zheirī (after one of its poets) or mawwāl musaba‘ (‘seven-line’ mawwāl) because it consists of seven lines (in aaabbba rhyme scheme). Mawwāl poetry uses colloquial Arabic with particular metres often derived from classical prosody. It is sung within about 20 Iraqi classical maqāms.

Mawwāl is difficult to sing: the unity of its seven unseparated lines must fit into long melismatic improvised melodies. It may be performed with a collectively sustained murmured tonic (without instruments) or with a single instrument or (for urban mawwāls) an ensemble. Nowadays many contemporary urban pop singers perform parts of the mawwāl with interspersed fast rhythmic passages.

(ii) Metrical.

Each melismatic song is usually followed by a syllabic song, generically termed pesta. These refrain songs are either performed by a chorus or antiphonally, with a singer and chorus. Pestas are composed in colloquial regional uninflected Arabic and are not usually based on classical metres. Pestas can take different forms such as the tawshīh and murrabba‘ in urban centres. Strophes are usually interchangeable and independent in meaning.

In rural areas, women compose and perform pestas, but it is not an exclusively female genre. The best known is a two-line verse called darmī or ghazal banāt (girls' love songs). This allows for a great variety of musical interpretation within a light rhythmically measured song style. These songs are usually concerned with love, separation, life's hardships, exploitation and oppression, and other subjects relating to women's experience. Many urban pestas also use this poetry.

Metric dance-songs known as shūbī regroup some ten styles that have certain common characteristics: binary rhythm, concentration on amorous themes and formal poetic structure designed to be sung. The main styles are: shimālī, mollāya, maymār, za’lān, il mani, mejana, waweliyya and abū m’anna. They are based on a four-line strophe with aaab rhyme scheme, each verse preceded by a rhyming two-line refrain containing the name of each song style as the last word of the first line. The solo singer performs short melodic sentences, and the dancers respond. Musical accompaniment is provided by the double clarinet, and rhythmic sounds from hand-clapping, finger-snapping and the dancers' feet on the ground. Shūbī styles are performed by settled populations of tribal origin.

The hosa is a chant inciting courage, honour and chivalry during tribal wars, national, political and other solemn occasions and even marriage festivities. It is performed responsorially by a male leader (mihwal) and a group who dance tapping their feet rhythmically on the ground. In the west, the Bedouin hosa is sung with the rabāb and based on short-line quatrains. The rural hosa has different poetic metres.

In the Basra region, most songs of the black population are pentatonic and use vernacular Arabic with some African words. They are performed by a male soloist integrated into the mixed responsorial group. The shadda style of Zubayr reflects both classical Arabian sawt singing and the polyrhythmic Gulf style with communal hand-clapping that supports the vocal line.

4. Instruments.

The great variety of instruments in Iraq is distributed according to different ways of life (nomadic or settled), and cultural and geographical conditions. In specific cases, ethnic origin and religion are operational factors.

The north has the greatest variety of aerophones: the nay (reed or metal end-blown flute, also common in other regions), the shabbāba (wooden flute) played by the Yezidis and the masūl (duct flute) played by shepherds and young people. The Turkmens of Kirkuk use the bālābān or qarnāta, a particular type of straight cylindrical shawm with a broad double reed. It serves the same purpose as the zurna (conical double-reed aerophone), which is common throughout the country and is always accompanied by the tabl (double-headed cylindrical drum; fig.7). The most characteristic instrument of this region is the tunbūr or sāz (long-necked lute), which is used only among the Turkmens and the Kurds. It accompanies songs performed at social gatherings, indoor and outdoor, and at the esoteric secret ceremonies of heterodox Islamic sects such as the Shabak and the Sarlia. The Yezidi allow the use of the long-necked lute in sacred places such as the valley of Lalech (north-east of Mosul), where the presence of the secular tabl wa zurna duo is not allowed.

Among the nomadic Bedouin, the chief instrument is the rabāb, a one-string fiddle with a rectangular body. The rabāb with concave sides is used by semi-settled tribes. Gypsies use the latter or, more often, a metal oildrum called galan. The rabāb is played in the tribe's main tent (mudhif) and anywhere Bedouin go. The coffee pestle and mortar is also used for its rhythmic quality: every Arab sheikh depends on an expert who pounds the beans to a rhythm that identifies the chief and the tribe and serves to summon members of the tribe to discuss matters of the day.

In rural Mesopotamia, three instruments are common. The mitbaj, a double clarinet with six finger-holes on each pipe, is used by shepherds and to lead the communal dances at important festivities. The tabl, drnga or khishba (single-headed drum made of wood or clay) and duff (frame drum with discs), usually played by women, are the main rhythm instruments. Among amateur singers, the use of instruments is regarded as shameful, but when rhythm is needed the singers keep time with their string of beads or beat an ordinary tray or any other object.

In Basra there is a wide variety of membranophones: tabl, kuenda (kettledrums of different shapes and sizes) among the blacks, msondo (big single-headed drums in the shape of a truncated cone) and pīpa (drum on a pedestal; fig.8). The latter, sometimes accompanied by the six-string tambūra (lyre) or lapinka (conch), are used in black ensembles (‘did), which perform for entertainment and for the rituals of spirit possession. The kasar (small double-headed drum beaten with a stick) is played by black women in their own possession ceremonies to signal the end of the trance. Influenced by the music of the Gulf, the inhabitants of Zubayr play the mrwasī, a small double-headed drum about 13 cm in diameter, which accompanies the vocal type fann al-sawt (‘art of the voice’) and the tabl al-‘ardh, a double-headed frame drum used for the ‘ardh dance of Bedouin origin.

IV. Modern developments

During the second half of the 20th century, traditional music was affected by fundamental changes within Iraqi society. These include significant migration from rural areas to cities, the growth of urbanization and literacy, and a general redistribution of wealth. In the 1970s, traditional music faced difficult changes and challenges.

In 1969 the Ministry of Information and Culture created a new children’s school of music and ballet to exist alongside the old Institute of Fine Arts, which had been established in the 1930s. The aim of the new school was to form a generation of young educated musicians, learning essentially Western music from elementary to secondary levels. In 1971 the Ministry opened the Institute of Iraqi Melodic Studies to provide a six-year training in Iraqi and Arab music.

An attempt to preserve and encourage traditional music led to the creation of the first Centre for Traditional Music in 1971, on individual initiative and hosted by the radio station. It undertook the first-ever documentation and classification of Iraqi music through the systematic collection of field recordings. In 1977 it was annexed by the Ministry of Culture (within the Department of Music, which had been established in 1973). At that time, the Centre for Traditional Music had already recorded, documented and catalogued 4000 audiotapes and assembled a collection of musical instruments and 78 r.p.m. records.

The Department of Music's principal aim was to centralize government policy and gradually regroup existing musical institutions and activities. Cultural policy tended to encourage the establishment of national dance and music troupes. The older Al-Rashid dance group, created with the advent of cinema and theatre, was renamed the National Troupe of Folk Dance. It presented stylized stage performances of Iraq's local folkdances. Similar troupes were established in Basra and Erbil. In 1975 a state traditional music ensemble was founded to represent Iraq's urban rural and Bedouin musics. These various national troupes presented regular concerts at home and in capital cities abroad. One of the most important official achievements of the Department of Music was the establishment in 1977 of a workshop for making lutes (‘ūd).

Besides traditional music, European-style symphonic music was being taught at the Institute of Fine Arts. The National Symphony Orchestra, founded in 1959, began to provide regular concerts of European Classical and Romantic music, and occasional performances of local compositions arranged for orchestra. A few Iraqi composers have been trained in the Western idiom, the most important being Farīd Allahwerdī (b 1924). Pianists Beatrice Ohanissian and Agnes Bashīr have composed some symphonic poems. In 1969 the Ministry of Culture and Information created a children's school of music and ballet to reach Western music from elementary to secondary levels.

Around the 1970s, with the advent of mass media, musicians from remote regions came into contact with many styles of arranged music: Western, popular, Arabic and foreign variety music. Professional musicians and decision-makers saw the acculturation of regional styles as a sign of progress and encouraged it. Songs were less vulnerable to change, but Western instruments or traditional Arab instruments from other regions often replaced local instruments, and the size of small traditional ensembles grew considerably. Harmonization and orchestration were encouraged, although outside media and official circles genuinely original styles prevail.

The musical policy of the 1970s did not foster the traditional transmission of the urban Iraqi maqām music through its great masters. Today patronage of the Iraqi maqām through private concerts has been seriously affected as a consequence of widespread financial impoverishment following the 1991 Gulf War and subsequent economic sanctions. Most of the great masters have died without comparable successors taking their place. In the aftermath of the war, Iraqi maqām specialists withdrew and announced the end of the traditional music. Yet, after its seeming disappearance, it recovered and once again regained its place as an emblem of Iraqi cultural identity.

Since the 1991 Gulf War, an important local popular song movement has emerged. It combines traditional vocal aesthetics with contemporary instrumentarium, including use of electronic instruments. New Iraqi singing stars are considered among the most popular stars in the entire Arab world.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

A. al-Azzawi: Al-mūsīqā al-‘arabiyya fī ‘ahd al-mughūl wa al-turkumān 1258–1534 [Iraqi music under the Mongols and the Turkomans 1258–1534] (Baghdad, 1951)

A.K. al-Allaf: Al-tarab ‘inda-l ‘arab [Musical ecstasy among Arabs] (Baghdad, 1963)

J. al-Hanafi: Al-mughanniyyūn al-baghdādiyyūn wal maqām al-‘irāqī [Baghdadi singers and the Iraqi maqām] (Baghdad, 1964)

H. al-Wardi: Al-ghinā’ al-‘irāqī [Iraqi singing] (Baghdad, 1964)

A. al-Bakri: ‘Uthmān al-Mawsillī: al-musīqār, al-shā‘ir, al-mutasawwif [‘Uthmān al-Mawsilī the musician, the poet and the mystic] (Baghdad, 1966)

V. Kubica: ‘Arabic Folk Music in Iraq: Iraqi Folk Vocal Form called nail’, Annals of the Naprstek Museum, v (Prague, 1966)

S. Jargy: La poésie populaire traditionnelle chantée au Proche-Orient arabe. l les Textes (Paris, 1970)

H. al-Wardi: ‘Ālam al-takāyā wa mahāfil al-dhikr [The world of Sufi orders and dhikr] (Baghdad, 1973)

V. Kubica: ‘The Gipsy Music of Iraq’, Annals of the Naprstek Museum, viii (Prague, 1975)

T. al-Amiri: Ghinā’ rīf al-‘irāq [Singing of rural Iraq] (Baghdad, 1976)

H. al-Basri: Aghāni sha‘biyya ‘irāqiyya [Iraqi popular songs] (Baghdad, 1976)

Y. Qotchman: Al-mūsīqā al-faniyya fil ‘Irāq [The contemporary art music of Iraq] (London, 1978)

A. Rashid al-Samar’i: Mawwāllāt baghdādiyya [Baghdad mawwāls] (Baghdad, 1978)

S.Q. Hassan: Les instruments de musique en Irak et leur rôle dans la société traditionnelle (Paris, 1980)

S. al-Hadithi: Aghāni folkluriyya min al-‘irāq [Iraqi folksongs] (Paris, 1981)

S.Q. Hassan: Masādir al-musīqā-l ‘irāqiyya 1900–1978) [Bibliography of Iraqi music 1900–1978] (Beirut, 1981)

S.Q. Hassan: Dirāsat fīl mūsīqā al-‘arabiyya: al-mūsīqā-l ‘iraqiyya [Studies in Arabic music] (Beirut, 1981)

S. Ibrahim: Dalīl al-anghām lī tullāb al-maqām [Guide to melodies for the students of maqām] (Baghdad, 1982)

U. Wegner: Abudiya und mawwāl: Untersuchungen zur sprachlich musikalischen Gestaltung im sudirakischen Volksgesang (Hamburg, 1982)

H. al-Rijab: Al-maqām al-‘irāqī [The Iraqi maqām] (Baghdad, 1983)

I. Ayid al-Majeed: Min qimam al-shi‘r al-sha‘bī fīl ‘irāq: al-‘atābā [From the summits of Iraqi popular poetry: the ‘atābā] (Baghdad, 1985)

S. al-Hadithi: The Choobi Songs of the Upper Euphrates in Iraq (Al Doha, 1986)

J. al-Hanaffi: Qawā’id al-tajwīd wal ilqā’ al-sawtī [The recitation and pronunciation of the Holy Qur’an] (Baghdad, 1987)

S.Q. Hassan: ‘Le Makam irakien: structures et réalisations’, L’improvisation dans les musiques de tradition orale, ed. B. Lortat-Jacob (Paris, 1987)

M. Ajaj Jirjis and K. Rawi al-Jumaili: Al-zheirī: al-mawrūth al-sha‘bī al ghinā’i li qurā janūb al Mawsil [The popular singing heritage of the villages south of Mosul] (Baghdad, 1987)

F. Abu Haidar: ‘The Poetic Content of the Iraqi Maqam’, Journal of Arabic Literature, xix/2 (1988), 128–41

S.Q. Hassan: ‘Quelques éléments d’influence dans la formation du répertoire d’al Makam al iraki à Baghdad’, Bulletin du Centre de documentation d’études juridiques, economiques et socialés, xxiv (1988)

H. al-Rijab: Al-ubuthiyya [The ubuthiyya] (Al Doha, 1988)

S.Q. Hassan: ‘Choix de la musique et de la représentation irakiennes au Congrès du Caire: vers une étude de contexte’, Musique arabe: le Congrés du Caire de 1932 (Cairo, 1992)

S.Q. Hassan: ‘Survey of Written Sources on the Iraqi Maqam’, Regionalemaqam-Traditionem in Geschichte und Gegenwart (Berlin, 1992)

S.Q. Hassan: ‘The Transmission Case of the Iraqi Maqam’, Garland Encyclopedia for World Music (forthcoming)

recordings

Musique populaire traditionelle d’Iraq, coll. Vaclav Kubica, OCR 55 RTF (1971)

Iraq: Luth traditionnel – Jamil Bashir, Arabesque 4, EMI Pathe 2C 066 95 160 (1974)

Iraq: Luth classique ‘ud Munir Bashir, Arabesque, Pathe 2C 066 95 &157 (1974)

Irak: Musical Atlas, coll. Habib Hassan Touma, UNESCO, EMI Odeon 3C 064-18370 (1976)

Salman Shukur – Oud, Decca HEAD 16 (1977)

Iraqi Music/Ud, Taqsim and Pasta, King Record Co. KICC – 5103 (1981)

Iraq: ‘Ud classsique arabe par Munir Bashir, OCR 63 (1983)

Irak: Makamat par l’ensemble al tchalghi al baghdadi et Yusuf Omar (chant), coll. S.Q. Hassan, OCR 79 (1985)

Musique savante de Bagdad/Irak, Congrès du Caire, Vol.1, Edition Bibliothèque Nationale-France and the Institut du monde arabe-Paris APN 88–9 (1988)

Le maqam irakien: tradition de Baghdad: hommage à Yusuf Omar, coll. S.Q Hassan, Inedit W 260063 AD 182 (1995)

Irak: les maqams de Baghdad, coll. S.Q. Hassan, Ocora Radio-France C580066 (1996)

Chant de Baghdad al Tchalghi al Baghdad ensemble, sung by Hussein al A’adhami, text by S.Q. Hassan, Musicales, IMA (1996)

IRCAM.

Institut de recherche et de coordination acoustique/musique. See also Musicology, §III, I, and Paris, §VII.

Ireland

(Irish, Éire).

Country in Europe. It is the second-largest island of the British Isles. It is divided into two sections, the Republic of Ireland which comprises 26 southern counties and Northern Ireland which comprises six counties of Ulster and is part of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

I. Art music

II. Traditional music

HARRY WHITE (I), NICHOLAS CAROLAN (II)

Ireland

I. Art music

1. To 1700.

Although the distinction between ‘art’ music and ‘traditional’ music obtains with reasonable clarity in Ireland after the Battle of Kinsale (1601) and the defeat of the Gaelic aristocracy, it reflects an ethnic divergence and the pre-eminence of English norms over an oral Gaelic culture that thereafter was preserved and developed in severely polarized circumstances. The fragmented polity of modern Ireland, no more clearly expressed than in the counter-claims of Gaelic and Anglo-Irish perceptions of high culture, has determined the understanding of orally transmitted music as a corpus of ethnic melodies, with its roots in the culture of Gaelic Ireland. The concept of ‘art music’ incorporates the norms of European (English, German, Italian) musical patronage assimilated as part of the colonial status quo, especially after the Battle of the Boyne (1690). This is the music treated here; the history and development of Gaelic music is addressed in §II.

The sources for music in pre-Christian and early medieval Ireland are few: although later writings (e.g. the Annals of the Four Masters and Geoffrey Keating's History of Ireland) attest to the function of music in bardic culture, the absence of notation and technical information makes it difficult to determine the nature of secular chants to which Gaelic poetry was recited. Manuscripts from the 10th century to the 15th that record versions of Irish mythology frequently include references to the magical, incantatory powers of music, but little is known about this music, except that it was pre-eminently verbal. The modern phrase ‘abair amhráin’ (‘speak a song’) connotes the pervasive alliance of the musical and the verbal in Gaelic culture. The symbolic force of music in this culture (its magical and narrative-emotional significations in particular) is also an abiding theme in the later annals.

Iconographical evidence from shrines, stone crosses and statuary of the 9th century to the 14th confirms the use of harps, horns and pipes, all of which receive attention in the literature of this period. The social status of the harpist in early modern Ireland is further indication of the prominence of music as an adjunct to the tradition of bardic poetry.

The complete absence of notation from all Irish liturgical manuscripts before 1000 makes it extremely difficult to trace with exactitude the history and development of music in the Celtic rite. Synodal reforms in the 7th century strongly suggest the adoption of Roman liturgical practices in Ireland, alongside which older, Celtic-Gallic traditions survived until the enactment of decrees that followed the Anglo-Norman invasion of 1172 and the introduction of the Use of Sarum. Early sources of the Celtic rite, including the Stowe Missal (c800) and the Antiphonary of Bangor (7th century) identify those parts of the liturgy that were chanted and confirm the distinctive use of hymns in mass and office. Traces of the rite persist in Irish 15th-century antiphonals which predominantly reflect the Sarum liturgy. Although earlier Irish sources, including the Book of Drummond (11th or 12th century), reflect Roman practices outright, it may be that Celtic rather than Roman chant was initially employed for the singing of the new liturgy. There is also evidence to suggest that the Celtic chants were accompanied by a small, eight-string harp (ocht-tedach).

Sporadic but instructive comments from visitors in the 12th century (including Gerald of Wales) and from more settled residents in the 16th (Edmund Spenser) allow us to trace the perception of music in Gaelic culture prior to its decline in the 17th century. Gerald's remarks are disinterested, insofar as he was concerned with the technical prowess and civilizing influence of musicians, but Spenser's famous antagonism towards bardic culture in A View of the Present State of Ireland (1596) exemplifies that reading of Irish music as an instrument of political resistance which was to endure in the minds of British and Irish commentators thereafter.

Sources for music in the cathedral foundations of Armagh, Cork, Dublin, Kilkenny and Waterford are scant until the beginning of the 17th century. It is clear that the immediate post-Reformation period saw a more continuous appointment of organists, vicars-choral and boy choristers, but not until the early 17th century did composers begin to contribute regularly to the cathedral repertory. Thomas Bateson, organist at Christ Church Cathedral in Dublin from about 1608 to 1630, was required ‘to teach and instruct four choristers to sing sufficiently from time to time to serve the choir during his natural life’. Little of his sacred music survives. The music of other composers attached to the Dublin cathedrals, Christ Church and St Patrick's, around the end of the 17th century (including Ralph and Thomas Roseingrave) is more plentifully preserved.

2. Since 1700.

The development of art music in Ireland after the Restoration was strongly indebted to English models. In Dublin, before the building of Crow Street Musick Hall in 1731, the principal venues for concert music were the cathedrals and larger churches. Mr Neale's Great Musick Hall in Fishamble Street, built by the Charitable Musical Society in 1741 and the following year playing host to the first performance of Handel's Messiah, was converted into a theatre in 1777. The gardens in Great Britain Street, designed in 1749 by Bartholomew Mosse, Master of the Lying-in Hospital, were modelled on London's Vauxhall and were used for summer concerts until 1791. The Rotunda Room (1764) was another popular location for concerts.

Although the cultivation of opera in Ireland was slow to develop, the performance of The Beggar's Opera in March 1728 established a busy tradition of ballad opera. Works by Arne, Shield, Thomas Coffey and J.F. Lampe were among the most popular operatic mainpieces or afterpieces sung between the acts of spoken plays. From 1760, visiting companies from London and the continent presented serious operas in Italian and English at the Smock Alley and Crow Street theatres.

The stable conditions enjoyed by the Anglo-Irish Ascendancy after the Williamite wars produced a corresponding measure of musical continuity throughout the 18th century within the Pale, the region of Dublin and its hinterland. The ‘Protestant Interest in Ireland’ did not espouse a taste for serious opera in Italian, but it patronized other forms of high musical culture, and a number of gifted musicians – among them Matthew Dubourg, Johann Sigismund Kusser (or Cousser), Francesco Geminiani and Tommaso Giordani – settled for long periods in Dublin: Kusser and Dubourg were both Masters of the King's Musick in Ireland. The distinctive feature of Ascendancy musical life, apart from the popularity of ballad opera, was the promotion of major choral works (oratorios, odes and anthems) for charitable purposes, including the support of hospitals and the relief of prisoners in the city gaols. The choirs of St Patrick's Cathedral and Christ Church Cathedral provided the mainstay of these performances, with distinguished soloists from London.

Attempts towards the end of the century to narrow the divide between Gaelic and Ascendancy musical cultures vividly illustrate the differences between them. While Joseph Cooper Walker in his Historical Memoirs of the Irish Bards (1786) sought to identify Turlough Carolan (1670–1738) as the true focus of Irish musical endeavour, Charles Burney contemptuously dismissed the role of the Irish bard as ‘little better than that of piper to the White Boys, and other savage and lawless ruffians’ (1787). A small number of collections of ethnic music had been published during the 18th century, beginning in 1724, but it was not until the appearance of Edward Bunting's General Collection of the Ancient Irish Music (in three volumes, 1797, 1809 and 1840) that the anglophone community attempted to absorb, or at least countenance, the native repertory. Thomas Moore's Irish Melodies, which appeared in ten volumes between 1808 and 1834, drew freely, but not exclusively, on Bunting's publications. Whereas Bunting (and the collectors who succeeded him) laboured to preserve the ethnic integrity of this repertory, Moore politicized it from within the folds of the colonial establishment; and though Bunting resented this projection of Irish music, its appeal gathered momentum throughout the 19th century. When Moore's interpretation of Irish melody was cross-blended with the ballad tradition (through the efforts of Young Ireland and the musical exhortations and compositions of Thomas Davis in particular), the polarized condition of ethnic music as the intelligencer of nationalism (as against the colonial status of art music) was complete. Charles Carter, Philip Cogan, John Stevenson and Thomas Cooke are among a number of important Anglo-Irish composers to have arranged Irish airs in the idiom of contemporary art music after the turn of the century. With the passing of the Act of Union in 1801, the cultivation of music within the art tradition notably decreased. Choral societies were established in Dublin from 1810 onwards and enjoyed considerable popularity in the Victorian period, while the dearth of professional orchestras was partly redeemed by the surge of amateur playing fostered by the Robinson family and by Robert Prescott Stewart, among others.

After the closure of the Crow Street Theatre in 1820, the Theatre Royal (opened in 1821) became the focus for presentations of grand opera in Italian as well as English grand opera, the latter represented by, for example, Balfe's The Bohemian Girl (1843), Wallace's Maritana (1845) and Benedict's The Lily of Killarney (1862). Balfe and Wallace were Irish, though their careers were made abroad. Meanwhile, the improved condition of Roman Catholics after emancipation (1829) was reflected in the music associated with the devotional reform in Ireland. Paul Cardinal Cullen's steady drive towards the romanization of the Catholic liturgy inspired a musical resurgence of striking conservatism: the restoration of plainchant, Roman polyphony and modal-polyphonic pastiche predominated. The strong ties between the Irish Society of St Cecilia (1878) and similar societies in Europe reflected religious and sometimes scholarly interests which were unaffected by the colonial-ethnic divide in Irish music. ‘Cecilianism’ strongly appealed to a largely urban Catholic middle class, which sought a musical idiom worthy of its strongly held beliefs. One of its chief proponents was Edward Martyn, better known as co-founder of the Irish Literary Theatre and sometime president of Sinn Fein.

The foundation of the Feis Ceoil and Oireachtas festivals in 1897 illustrates the division that continued to characterize music in Ireland at the close of the century. Although the Feis did nurture ethnic music to a degree, it quickly became apparent that two kinds of music – however nationalistic the motivation of the Feis – required two kinds of festival. Efforts to merge the resources of European art music and the indigenous repertory faltered, despite the prominence of Irish folk music as a symbol of the Celtic Revival. Music functioned in Irish poetry and drama as a powerful metaphor for the literary imagination (notably in Yeats), but the development of Irish music itself was negligible. John F. Larchet's incidental music for plays given at the Abbey (including Synge's Deirdre of the Sorrows, 1910) and Robert O'Dwyer's Irish opera Eithne (1909) reflect efforts at synthesis which only partly succeeded. Stanford's editions of Irish music (collected by George Petrie) and his somewhat superficial admixture of Irish melodies and symphonic texture compare uncomfortably with the literary productions of the Celtic Revival. The early compositions of Arnold Bax were directly inspired by Yeats and the Revival, but remained exceptionally free of the burdens of folk-music quotation. Esposito, like his pupil Larchet, continued to espouse the possibility of stylistic integration, but selfconsciously wrote two kinds of music which ‘respectively’ cultivated a late Romantic European demeanour and an ethnically imbued vocabulary.

After 1922 the cultural oppressiveness of the ethnic repertory worsened. While critics recognized that a cosmetic arrangement of Irish melodies was a poor substitute for a wholly developed, yet manifestly Irish, art music, the blatant politicization of Irish traditional music as a ‘priceless’ national resource continued to inhibit composers. As late as 1951 Brian Boydell could write that ‘music in Ireland … is in a shocking state’. Boydell's concern was with the striking lack of musical infrastructures throughout the country, a lack repaired in significant measure by Radio Telefís Éireann (RTÉ) and by the improvement in educational facilities and opportunities for performance which followed upon the economic growth of the 1960s. The postwar expansion of the Radio Éireann orchestras and the increased transmission of art music were vital steps forward. Festivals of choral music (Cork) and contemporary music (Dublin), and recital series fostered by the Royal Dublin Society, the Music Association of Ireland and several amateur organizations, contributed to a new climate of commitment to art music which blossomed in the 1980s with a National Concert Hall and the RTÉ (radio channel for art music) FM3. The Dublin International Organ Festival (founded in 1981) and the GPA Dublin International Piano Competition (founded in 1988) are representative of later developments.

The presentation of regular seasons of opera did not begin until 1941, with the founding of the Dublin Grand Opera Society, based at the Gaiety Theatre. The Wexford Opera Festival, established in 1951 by T.J. Walsh, explores little-known works and has acquired an international reputation. Touring companies such as the Irish National Opera (1965) and Opera Theatre Company (1986) have significantly advanced both opportunities for young Irish singers and the dissemination of wide-ranging, if thinly spread, repertory. Dublin remains without an opera house. Perhaps as a result of the sporadic condition of operatic performance in Ireland, few Irish composers have succeeded with this genre. Stanford's Shamus O'Brien (1896) perpetuates a stage-Irishry which the literary revival finally repudiated. Since World War II a number of composers have written substantial operas to English texts, including Gerard Victory (Chatterton, 1967), A.J. Potter (The Wedding, 1981) and Gerald Barry (The Intelligence Park, 1988).

The 1960s witnessed the brilliant but unresolved career of Seán Ó Riada (1930–71). Ó Riada's crisis of artistic growth, in which he abandoned art music for a highly successful revival of the ethnic repertory (see also §II, 7), originated in that colonial-ethnic fissure that has been the signature of music in Ireland for three centuries. Although younger Irish composers, notably Gerald Barry, Raymond Deane and John Buckley, have escaped the anxiety of his influence, none has overcome the paradox of a vibrant ethnic musical tradition which appears to undermine the enterprise of original composition. The Contemporary Music Centre (Dublin) and the Irish Arts Council have in recent years done much to disseminate the work of Irish composers, not least by the circulation of scores and tapes, and the recording of works in collaboration with RTÉ.

The state of music education in the Republic of Ireland leaves much to be desired, particularly in primary and secondary schools where less than one per cent take music as a subject in final state examinations. The provision for tertiary education is considerably better: there are undergraduate music courses in Cork, Dublin, Limerick, Maynooth and Waterford, many of which afford opportunities to specialize in performance, composition or musicology. The first international musicological conference in the history of the state took place in 1995 in celebration of the bicentenary of St Patrick's College, Maynooth, jointly organized by the music departments at Maynooth and University College Dublin. The performance faculties of the Cork School of Music, the Dublin College of Music and the Royal Irish Academy of Music have significantly raised the standard of instrumental tuition since 1970. Youth orchestras, including the National Youth Orchestra, have likewise cultivated a high standard of performance.

3. Northern Ireland.

The formation of Northern Ireland as a political entity in 1921 did not immediately affect the development of art music there, but the founding of the BBC Northern Ireland Orchestra in 1924 gave Ulster its first professional ensemble of orchestral musicians. Amateur music-making was mainly vocal and choral, though in the postwar period interest in chamber music notably increased. The Ulster Orchestra was founded in 1966 and subsequently absorbed the BBC Northern Ireland orchestra, flourishing under a number of distinguished conductors (among them, Bryden Thomson and Yan Pascal Tortelier); it has also recorded works by Hamilton Harty.

Festivals of music in Belfast, including the Sonorities and Early Music festivals associated with Queen's University, and recital series throughout the province, attest to a vigorous professional calendar of art music supported by an impressive system of music education at all levels. Professional opera productions are limited to two short seasons per year, given by Opera Northern Ireland. The Education and Library Boards provide instrumental tuition to schools across Ulster; specialized instrumental tuition is also available in the Ulster College of Music, Belfast. The University of Ulster and Queen's University offer degrees in music which provide specializations in, among others, electronic music and analysis. An Irish Chapter of the Royal Musical Association was established at the Univeristy of Ulster in 1987: it has met annually since then in university and college campuses throughout Ireland.

For further information on musical life in Ireland see Belfast; Cork; Dublin; Wexford.

3. Composition, performance and transmission.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

HarrisonMMB

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H. Bewerunge: ‘The Teaching of Music in Irish Schools’, Irish Ecclesiastical Record (Dec 1897), 481–7

J.H. Bernard and R. Atkinson: The Irish Liber hymnorum: Edited from the MSS, with Translations, Notes and Glossary (London, 1898)

H. Bewerunge: ‘Cecilian Music’, New Ireland Review, xv (1900), 73–84

J.S. Bumpus: Irish Church Composers and the Irish Cathedrals (Dublin, 1900)

R. Dwyer: ‘Imitations of Palestrina’, New Ireland Review, xv (1900), 155–60

W.H. Frere: Bibliotheca musico-liturgica: a Descriptive Handlist of the Musical and Latin-Liturgical MSS of the Middle Ages Preserved in the Libraries of Great Britain and Ireland(London, 1901–32, 2/1967)

R. Henebry: Irish Music (Dublin, 1903)

R.B. Armstrong: The Irish and Highland Harps (Edinburgh, 1904/R)

W.H.G. Flood: A History of Irish Music (Dublin, 1905, 3/1913/R, 4/1927)

E. Martyn: ‘The Gaelic League and Irish Music’, Irish Review, i (1911)

W.J. Lawrence: ‘Early Irish Ballad Opera and Comic Opera’, MQ, viii (1922), 397–412

J. Larchet: ‘A Plea for Music’, The Voice of Ireland, ed. W.G. Fitzgerald (Dublin, 2/1924), 508–11

R. Henebry: A Handbook of Irish Music (Cork, 1928)

A. Fleischmann: The Neumes and Irish Liturgical MSS (MA diss., National U. of Ireland, 1932)

A. Fleischmann: ‘Composition and the Folk Idiom’, Ireland Today, i/6 (1936), 37–44, esp. 42

F. May: ‘Music and the Nation’, Dublin Magazine, xi (July–Sept 1936), 50–56

B. Boydell: ‘The Future of Music in Ireland’, The Bell, xvi/4 (1951), 21–9

A. Fleischmann, ed.: Music in Ireland: a Symposium (Cork, 1952)

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Ireland

II. Traditional music

1. General.

2. History.

4. Songs and singing.

5. Instrumental music.

6. Instruments.

7. Groups and bands.

8. Dancing.

9. Collecting and publishing.

10. Sound recording, radio and television.

11. Research.

1. General.

The traditional music of the island of Ireland is an important part of Irish contemporary culture. Although its performers and audiences are in a minority compared to those of international popular music, most aspects of traditional music have enjoyed a revival in the second half of the 20th century, especially among younger people, which makes it unique in western Europe. It is also commonly performed and listened to in centres of Irish settlement abroad – chiefly Britain, the USA and Australia – and from the 1970s has been growing in popularity in continental Europe and North America among people who are not of Irish descent. The reasons for the strength of Irish traditional music are partly historical and social: political conditions have fostered the oral arts of song, instrumental music, dance and storytelling rather than the visual and plastic arts; traditional rural society, non-industrial and conservative, survived longer in Ireland than in western Europe generally; and the relative smallness of the country and its population enables easy access to all varieties of live performance. There seems also to be a particular affinity to music in the Irish national character.

Traditional music is a central element of Irish identity, and the state symbol of the Republic of Ireland is the harp. However, while music of oral tradition is common to the whole of Ireland and to both of its two politico-religious groupings, the Nationalist-Catholic majority and the Unionist-Protestant minority, it has been falsely perceived in recent years of political disturbance within Northern Ireland as being associated only with the Nationalist minority there.

Reflecting the predominant social and cultural strains in modern Ireland, its traditional music is largely Celtic (Gaelic or Irish) and British (English and Scottish) in origin. Its main contemporary forms are songs in Irish and English and instrumental airs and dance tunes. Apart from its functional roles in dancing and marching, the music is now primarily recreational, whereas in the past it also had mythic, supernatural and seasonal ceremonial significance. It shares many of the characteristics of the traditional music of western Europe and is related to the music of other Celtic regions, especially Scotland. Musical ties are close also with other parts of Britain and with North America after centuries of invasion, settlement and emigration. Irish emigrants have also influenced the music of Australia. Direct relationships which have been claimed with the music of North Africa, India and the Middle East are, however, based on superficial resemblances.

Monophonic melody is predominant, although harmonic and percussive dimensions have developed in recent years with the introduction of instruments that allow for these dimensions. Most tunes, vocal and instrumental, are heptatonic, with pentatonic song airs common in the northern province of Ulster. It has been estimated that more than half are in the Ionian mode, followed in order of frequency by the Mixolydian, the Aeolian and the Dorian modes. Phrases are mostly even in number and equal in length. The tradition is often considered to be essentially one of solo performance, but small and large instrumental groups are common (see §6 below). Transcriptions of song texts and staff notation or a variety of alpha-numeric or tablature music notations have been increasingly used by performers over the last 200 years, but only as an aid to memory or for teaching and never in performance. Some level of literacy is now common.

Traditional Irish music is of rural more than urban origin, a reflection of an earlier population distribution, but many items and forms of the repertory have come from towns and cities, or through them from abroad. Much is now performed and commercially produced in urban areas. Local and regional performance traditions once existed, some of which favoured song and others instrumental music. While such styles can still be heard, especially in singing in the Irish language and fiddle playing, they are generally in decline or have disappeared because of factors such as the end of rural isolation and the growth of telecommunications.

2. History.

Information on early Irish music, which was entirely music of oral tradition, derives from speculation on the facts of archaeology and history, and on passing references to music in literary and other writings. Until the 20th century, when Ireland began to come under the influence of North American and Irish American culture, all Irish musical history concerned musical trends and ideas coming from the east, often through Britain, that combined with native creativity to produce new forms and new music. The first people came to Ireland over 9000 years ago, during the middle Stone Age or earlier. Their artefacts were generally stone, bone and wood, and later pottery, but no musical instruments survive. After millennia of human occupation about which little is known, but during which the technologies of farming and metalworking were introduced, the earliest musical instruments are found: side- and end-blown bronze horns, the earliest of which belong to the 2nd millennium bce, and which may have been used for ritual purposes. The country was predominantly Celtic in culture from about the middle of the 1st millennium bce to the 17th century ce. Continental Celtic musical practices such as the singing of war- and praise-songs and the playing of lyres may have existed also in Ireland at the beginning of the Christian era, and an aristocratic oral-music tradition performed by professional musicians of high status for wealthy patrons certainly co-existed with vernacular traditions.

During the 1st millennium ce Ireland was brought into contact with Christian religious music introduced by missionaries from the 5th century, and forms of Scandinavian music practised by Viking invaders and settlers from the 9th century, the only identifiable remains of which are bone whistles. When French-speaking Normans invaded the country from Wales in the 12th century they found a distinctive Irish harp which seems to have been a development of an earlier instrument. Used in instrumental music, song and recitation performance, and with a lively playing style in which melody was accompanied by the bass strings, the harp remained the chief instrument of Ireland until the 17th century. Other instruments played in Ireland in the Middle Ages include: the tiompán, a small string instrument whose exact nature is unknown; fidlí, early fiddles; cuislí or mouth-blown pipes; píopaí or mouth-blown bagpipes which were used in warfare as well as for recreation; and the trumpa or jew's harp. The Normans themselves introduced dance-songs and songs of amour courtois, traces of which survive in contemporary Irish-language song, influenced later by English songs and continental literature. ‘Callino’, an air preserved in Dublin in a lute book of the last quarter of the 16th century, is the earliest known notation of an Irish melody.

The modern era of Irish traditional music had its beginnings in the 17th century, a period of transition in Ireland during which aristocratic Gaelic society diminished and the middle and lower classes became the main performers and patrons of traditional music. It does not now seem possible to detail the influence which the aristocratic oral poetry, music and song traditions must have had on the vernacular traditions. The long-standing cultural unity which had existed between the north of Ireland and Gaelic-speaking Scotland came to an end during the century, and large-scale settlement by English and English-speaking Scottish colonists in Ulster aided the spread of English-language song, including the classical ballads. British culture and urban civilization generally began to gain ground in the country, although the majority of the population was still Irish-speaking and lived on the land. The harp declined with court music, the mouth-blown bagpipe disappeared and the modern fiddle was introduced.

The bulk of the current repertory, including that of Irish-language song, originated in the 18th and 19th centuries. A large body of songs in English were composed on English and Gaelic models, and texts were circulated on ballad sheets as well as orally. The reel and the hornpipe were introduced from Britain and thousands of melodies were composed in these new forms, as well as in the older jig forms which had been in use since at least the 16th century. The bellows-blown uilleann pipes were developed and replaced the harp as the classical instrument of Irish traditional music; the baroque flute came into the hands of traditional players, and outside musical influences such as Italian instrumental music were felt as musicians catered to a new type of wealthy patron. A growing interest in traditional music among the educated urban classes led to the collection of older materials, their preservation and publication. By the early 1840s there was a population of over eight million people in the country which included the greatest-ever number of Irish composers, singers, instrumentalists and dancers. This situation was radically altered by the Great Famine of the 1840s and the subsequent emigration which reduced the population of Ireland by half within five years. Music was badly affected and only began to recover in the final decades of the 19th century when new instruments such as the accordion, concertina and metal whistles were taken up; it was at this time that social dances based on continental quadrilles spread throughout the country. Increasing population mobility led to the decline of local and regional style.

The Irish diaspora has developed its own music traditions abroad, especially in Britain and the United States, since the 19th century.

The work of preservation begun by the early collectors was greatly aided by the invention of sound recording, and since the 1890s tens of thousands of commercial and field recordings have been made. A national Gaelic revival beginning in the 1890s gave prominence to traditional music, especially to Irish-language song, and the establishment of uilleann piping clubs rescued the instrument from extinction. The harp was revived in a modified form which is still played, although it is not nearly as important as it once was. The revival influenced the cultural character of the new 26-county state established in 1922. Irish songs were included in school curricula, although traditional music was not generally taught in the schools, and the state helped fund publications of traditional-music collections. No such recognition or aid has been given to traditional music in the six-county state of Northern Ireland until recently. Traditional music was generally in decline between the World Wars, affected by heavy emigration from the countryside and economic recession, but this was countered by the spread of gramophones and radio, which made the music available to new audiences, especially in the towns and cities. These and later forms of telecommunication, such as tape recording, brought about a profound change in the transmission and nature of Irish traditional music.

Increased interest after World War II led, among other manifestations, to the establishment in 1951 of Comhaltas Ceoltóirí Éireann (the Association of Irish Musicians), an organization for the promotion of traditional music through teaching, performance and competition. A song-focussed revival in the late 1950s and the 1960s preceded the revival of instrumental music in the 1970s. Playing has since become widespread with a high level of virtuosity; instruments such as the concertina which had diminished to the local level became again national, and a cottage industry of instrument-making has grown up. The uilleann pipes, which were being played by only a few players such as Leo Rowsome of Dublin, experienced a revival. There are now hundreds of musicians who play the instrument to a high standard all over the world, and it is increasingly to be heard in international music. Influenced by technological advances such as LPs and CDs, tape recording and television, the revival and renewal of older traditions has continued strongly until the present day, and new and experimental performance styles and new instruments are found alongside older ones. Traditional instrumental music is to an extent now part of youth culture and is commonly played with great vigour and dash. General levels of virtuosity have hardly ever been as high, but a certain homogeneity of style is now found in a music that well into the 20th century showed a great degree of variety and local distinctiveness. Earlier local styles are preserved on recordings of performers such as the singers Elizabeth Cronin of Cork or Joe Heaney (Seosamh Ó hÉanaí) of Galway, or the fiddle player padraig O'Keeffe of Kerry.

3. Composition, performance and transmission.

Composers of Irish traditional music, always performers, share the conservative tastes of their own communities, but are usually forgotten as compositions spread and are altered by others. Far more men than women are known to be composers of melodies, although women are better represented among known composers of song. Instrumental music is composed on instruments, but little is understood of the traditional method of composition. In some cases it seems that a stray fragment of melody is developed in accordance with the norms of the tradition, as was the case with the 20th-century fiddle player and composer Ed Reavy of Cavan and Philadelphia; at other times the composer tries to evoke a mood or commemorate an event. There has been a recent decline in song composition, but instrumental melodies of individual character continue to be made, and there has been a considerable increase in tune composition since the 1980s. New pieces are often quickly recorded and thus fixed in form, and the accelerated rate of transmission made possible by mass communications has led to swift acceptance of some modern compositions into the body of the tradition. Some composers of the past received material reward from patrons, but in the last few centuries the rewards have been self-satisfaction and community respect. Even today, with increasing copyright registration on commercial recordings, there are few financial rewards from composition. Some professional arrangers of traditional pieces have, however, profited in the 1990s from a commercial boom in sales of the music.

Being largely the music of non-professionals, traditional music is normally performed during leisure hours at night, weekends and during holiday periods. The domestic music occasions of the past, which often mixed singing, instrumental music and dancing, have largely been replaced since World War II by more specialized performances in venues open to the public, particularly public houses, where informal ‘sessions’, gatherings of musicians performing for their own enjoyment, take place. The seeds of session-playing can be seen in music-making on fair days in the past and among early congregations of emigrant musicians in the United States and Britain. More organized performances such as cabarets are held in tourist areas, and concerts are commonly held throughout the country. Live music can also be heard at festivals, ranging from informal weekends to structured week-long summer schools. Comhaltas Ceoltóirí Éireann has branches throughout Ireland and abroad, at which music is played regularly. It also organizes competitive regional fleadhanna ceoil (music festivals), which culminate in an annual all-Ireland fleadh. Session performers are people of all ages and social classes, and music sessions are generally a mixture of experienced players and learners, men and women, people of rural and urban backgrounds, playing instruments of all sorts. At the same time, friends and people of similar levels of ability will organize more private sessions. A good deal of performance now takes place at summer schools and at weekend festivals throughout the year, and there has been an explosion in the number of these since the 1970s. Best known is the Willie Clancy Summer School organized annually in memory of an influential Clare piper. Performers and their core audiences share a common experience of the music and by and large a common musical taste. In the past, public performance and competition were the domain of men, with women performing more in the home, but this changed in the later 20th century as women played an increasingly public role in Irish society. While musical competency was widespread in traditional culture, there were always performers who were recognized as having special abilities. Being able to convey the meaning of a song well, or having outstanding technique on an instrument, were admired qualities, and some performers have become legendary through a combination of musical abilities and strong personality. Examples of well-known figures are the 18th-century harpist-composer Turlough Carolan (Toirdhealbhach Ó Cearbhalláin, 1670–1738), the first composer of Irish traditional music whose compositions survive in any number, and the 20th-century virtuoso uilleann piper Seamus Ennis (Séamus Mac Aonghusa, 1919–82), who formed a bridge between the older traditions and new enthusiasts in the 1950s, especially through his work on radio and television. Musicians of the travelling community – such as the Donegal fiddle-players John, Mickey and Simey Doherty, the Wicklow pipers Johnny and Felix Doran, or the Cork singer Margaret Barry – have played an important part in disseminating music, and Travellers have preserved older items abandoned by settled people, as well as developing styles of performance suitable for the open air.

Traditional transmission processes of absorption, imitation and tutoring continue, especially within families (for instance, the Potts family of Dublin, the Crehans of Clare, or Muintir Uí Bheaglaoich of Kerry) and have been greatly augmented in the second half of the 20th century by the mass communications media, especially sound recordings. Formal instrumental classes and festival workshops have been a response to increasing demand in the same period, but songs are still learnt by listening and imitation rather than formal instruction. A large number of instrument tutors as well as sound recordings have been published since the 1970s, and instructional videos began to be produced in the 1990s. The formal education system at the first and second levels makes almost no provision for the teaching of traditional music in Ireland, although university music departments are increasingly providing courses of study which include instrumental instruction.

4. Songs and singing.

The contemporary singing tradition is less vigorous than that of instrumental music. This is in part due to the invasion of the traditional singing venues of the home and the workplace by television and the transistor radio, the decline in neighbourly visiting and the recent transfer of traditional music to the crowded and noisy public house. It is also a result of the loss of some older functions. Traditional songs, particularly when performed unaccompanied, are increasingly heard only in specialized clubs and festivals.

Songs in the Irish language are still commonly performed on Irish-language radio and on commercial recordings, and in the shrinking gaeltachtaí (Irish-speaking districts), which are largely on the west coast and in the south. Decreasing numbers of older songs are sung, and modern compositions, although numerous, are in modern international idioms. Love songs predominate, and there are many songs on national and local themes as well as songs in praise of locality. Many older genres such as the heroic lay, the keen or death lament, the work song, the lullaby invoking magical powers and the aisling or political vision-song, are now obsolete. Almost all songs are lyric, expressing intense personal feelings in everyday but poetic language and imagery and sometimes using such European poetic conventions as the pastourelle. Although narrative songs are rare, narrative is often implied, and sometimes a prose preamble, údar an amhráin (the story of the song), supplies background material. Author attribution is more common than in English-language songs.

Narrative and lyric songs are both plentifully supplied in the English language. The oldest form of these, the imported British classical ballad, has almost disappeared, but there is a large surviving body of later songs created in Ireland with distinct Hiberno-English roots that incorporate Gaelic features such as internal assonance. Their concerns are generally those of Irish-language song, but they deal more with emigration and the events of the late 19th century and the 20th. Politically sectarian songs are still composed in the north of Ireland. Since the early 19th century, songs of literary origins have passed increasingly into oral circulation, and many national political songs are of this type.

The songs of both languages are strophic, metrically uniform and in accented metres, often with an alternating verse and chorus. The most common metres are 3/4, 4/4 and 6/8. Intonation sometimes varies at the third, fourth and seventh degrees. While most songs are sung within a range of one to one and a half octaves, Gaelic airs have a larger range and favour an AABA structure. English-language songs more often have an ABBA structure. Melodies cross the language divide, and more texts exist than melodies although some melodies exist in a large number of versions.

In performance both languages are sometimes heard on the same occasion, and there are a few macaronic songs that alternate between languages. Stylistic differences arise from regional and personal differences, not from languages or genres. Although there are suggestions in early literature of ancient instances of choral singing, the singing tradition has long been monophonic and is still normally unaccompanied. Verbal text is more important than music, but while the ability to convey the meaning of a song is more valued than a good voice, a musical voice is highly regarded in a singer, as is a good memory. The general singing style is understated and conversational. Song tempos are never very fast, but faster songs are performed in strict time. Slower songs are relaxed and more variable in rhythm. Simple ornaments such as grace notes, turns and slurs, and other embellishments, such as producing a nasal tone or adding extra syllables may be added. Rubato singing in the Irish language, especially the highly decorated and high-pitched tense style of County Galway, is often called sean-nós or ‘old-style’ singing, a relatively recent term.

Until the mid-20th century, music for dancing was sometimes provided by lilters, men or women who vocalized dance tunes, solo or in unison duet, to standard vocables. Also known as dydeling, mouth-music or in Irish as portaireacht bhéil, lilting is sometimes still performed to entertain listeners.

5. Instrumental music.

Instrumental music may comprise a small number of pieces such as the older harp tunes which were composed to be listened to, or ‘slow airs’ which are song airs played instrumentally with rubato, but the vast bulk of instrumental music consists of fast dance music.

Almost all types of Irish dance music share a common symmetrical structure. Tunes usually consist of two parts, one lower in pitch (the ‘tune’) followed by a higher (the ‘turn’). Each part is made up of an equal number of bars – eight in the case of all tune types except set dances – and each part is usually played twice, often with variation, before moving on. When a tune has been played two or three times, a second and usually a third tune is nowadays played in the same way, as a suite. Some tunes have three or more parts; the extra parts are usually variations of the first two. Most tunes comprise three or four distinct motifs in a variety of contrasting and repeated patterns. A certain degree of variation, from a single note to a whole part, can occur, but generally performers do not vary their own versions greatly once they have fixed them to their satisfaction. Ornaments common to all instruments are single cuts, double cuts, short rolls, long rolls and triplets.

Dance music is usually notated and played in keys of one or two sharps. Occasionally three sharps are used, especially in fiddle music, and rarely one flat. Most tunes fall within a range of two octaves. Pitch is fixed only when instruments which are manufactured to a fixed pitch, such as the whistle or accordion, are played; instruments such as the fiddle are tuned at a level that sounds pleasant to the player. Intonation is like that of the modern scale, but the notes C and F especially fluctuate when played on instruments which are not fixed in pitch. Dynamics were little used in the past but have been gaining in popularity in recent years. While strong regional styles can still be heard in the case of the fiddle, most instrumental styles are now based on the influence of individual players and personal taste rather than on locality. The pace of playing began to increase in the 1980s partly to cater for dancers in a new revival.

The main types of dance music in order of popularity are the reel, jig and hornpipe, all of which can be played for solo dancers, groups of dancers or for listeners. Less common are the polka and slide, which are played for group dancing, and the set dance, played for solo dancing. There are some other minor types of dance tunes of localized currency such as the barn dance and the fling.

The reel (ríl) is performed in a fast forward-moving style, in 4/4 rhythm. The typical bar has eight quavers divided into two groups.

The jig (port), the oldest form of dance music now played, is usually performed at a more moderate speed and in a more relaxed manner. There are several types of jigs, each deriving its name from dance movements, and distinguished from one another by rhythm. The double jig is in 6/8 rhythm, the typical bar having six quavers in two groups. The single jig is also normally in 6/8 rhythm, but the typical bar has two crotchet-quaver figures. Single jigs in 12/8 are called slides. The slip jig or hop jig is in 9/8 rhythm and the typical bar has nine quavers in three groups. Some jigs were once ancient marches.

The hornpipe (cornphíopa), like the reel, is in 4/4 rhythm, but it is played more slowly and deliberately, and is more heavily stressed. The typical bar has eight quavers in two groups, and triplets are a common feature.

The polka is in 2/4 rhythm, with a fast infectious dance sound, and the typical bar contains two groups of two quavers. Many of the ‘polkas’ played in Ireland, especially in Counties Kerry and Cork, are not of the 19th-century European ballroom type but are simpler tunes, some of which were originally song airs.

A group of slow-paced dance tunes, about 30 in number, are used for special solo exhibition dances, called ‘set dances’ because fixed or ‘set’ steps accompany each tune. Set dances can be in 6/8 time like the double jig, or in 4/4 time like the hornpipe, and can be unusual in having parts of different lengths, from six to 12 bars. They should not be confused with a type of quadrille-based group dance called ‘set dances’ which are performed to ‘sets’ or groups of different tunes.

There is no musical connection between a tune and its title (or titles), if it is titled at all. Song airs are named from the title of the Irish or English song lyrics with which they are associated. Older instrumental melodies often took their titles from the name of a patron (for instance, Ye Lord Mayo's Delight), but dance-tune titles, which are most commonly in English, refer to the ordinary lives of people, such as their occupations, pastimes and locales (for instance, Trim the Velvet, The Humours of Cloyne, The Dairy Maid's Wish).

6. Instruments.

The primary musical instruments are international melody instruments, some of which have developed specifically Irish forms: wind instruments, such as the pipes, whistle and flute; string instruments, especially the fiddle, but also the banjo and mandolin; and free-reed instruments, such as the accordion, concertina and harmonica. Percussion instruments were not played much until recently. Even when harmony can be produced, as on the uilleann pipes and accordion, only simple harmonies are used, and often none at all. But the trend in the 20th century has been towards increased harmonization and the introduction of accompanying instruments such as the piano and guitar. Musicians also ignore many of the other potentialities of instruments: players of the fiddle, for instance, rarely move from the first position on the fingerboard.

The triangular, wooden Irish harp (cruit or cláirseach; see Irish harp) was, in its earliest known form, of medium size strongly constructed of willow, and with metal strings plucked with the finger nails. Its size and the number of strings have varied greatly over the centuries. Today it averages about 90 cm in height, and is strung with about 30 gut or nylon strings plucked by the fingertips. It normally rests on the player's right shoulder. Most harpists are now women, although formerly they were mostly men. Mostly song airs and moderately paced instrumental harp pieces are played, but fast dance tunes are becoming more popular. There are no old harp styles and little old traditional technique remains.

Two types of Bagpipe are in use: the mouth-blown ‘warpipes’ and the bellows-blown uilleann pipes. The former, particularly important in Northern Ireland but not widely played, is the outdoor Scottish Highlands bagpipe introduced in the late 19th century partly as an imitation of an obsolete medieval Irish type. It is learnt and played in clubs which organize marching bands and competitions, and solo performance is not the central feature of this music culture. The indoor uilleann pipes (píb uilleann) are a uniquely Irish form of the bagpipe, and are more widespread in the south and midlands area than in the north (see illustration). They were originally known as the ‘Irish pipes’ or ‘union pipes’; the present term was coined only at the turn of the 20th century and comes from the Irish word uille (‘elbow’). Distinguishing features are a wooden chanter with a two-octave range (usually D–D''), a bag blown by bellows held under the elbow, and three closed chanters called regulators which can provide harmony or counterpoint when their keys are pressed. The instrument also has three continuously sounding drones. The pipes are expensive and, with seven double or single reeds, difficult to keep in tune. They are played as a solo instrument more than any other instrument, and most pipers are male. There are two basic styles of piping on the chanter: open style (flowing and fast, with notes produced by putting down the fewest possible fingers); and tight or closed style (staccato and fast, with alternative fingerings that offer moments of silence between notes). Most players mix the two styles. Special techniques include ‘cranning’ (playing of multiple grace notes in quick succession) and sliding from one note to the next.

The Fiddle (fidil or veidhlín), with its bow, is identical to the modern violin. Traditional musicians prefer the term ‘fiddle’ to ‘violin’ to distinguish their music and their style of playing from other musics. Probably the most popular traditional instrument, the fiddle is played equally by men and women, and is felt to be particularly compatible with the flute, button accordion and uilleann pipes. It is played with a relaxed left-hand grip on the neck of the instrument. Bow strokes are generally short and light, producing a quiet mellow tone. Local styles range from the northern Donegal style (usually quick, with little ornamentation and a different bow stroke for most notes) to the more relaxed and ornamented southern styles such as those of Counties Sligo and Clare (where several notes can be sounded with each movement of the bow). Many contemporary players develop their own personal styles. Special techniques include double stopping and bowed triplets.

The Irish Tin whistle (feadóg stáin) is a short end-blown duct flute of metal alloy with six finger-holes, and a light, pure tone. Originally conical in shape with a wooden duct, it has been almost replaced since the 1960s by a cylindrical type with a moulded plastic mouthpiece. Two octaves are available; the higher octave is produced by blowing harder. Whistles come in several keys, from B to G; those in D are the most popular. Relatively inexpensive and the common beginners' instrument, the tin whistle has a relatively low status, but is perfectly suited to the music, and some players have brought it to a virtuoso level. Special techniques include tonguing and sliding from one note to the next.

The flute (fliúit or feadóg mhór) used for the playing of Irish traditional music, known as the concert or wooden flute, is the simple-system cross-blown wooden flute developed in France in the late 1600s. Most flutes played in late 20th-century Ireland were English or German 19th-century instruments, but modern Irish-made flutes are also now played. Normally in the key of D, it can also have one or more padded metal keys to produce flat or sharp notes, and it usually consists of three sections that are fitted together. Traditional playing styles range from a hurried, puffing choppy northern style, found mostly in Counties Sligo and Roscommon, to one that is smooth and rolling, centred on Counties Clare and Limerick, but the flute is now widely played throughout the country, and the styles are generally mixed. Special techniques include tonguing and sliding from one note to the next. Flute and drum marching bands playing flutes in different keys and in harmony, a tradition derived from 18th-century British military bands, are found in Northern Ireland.

The Accordion (cairdín or bosca ceoil) that is normally played is the double-action button accordion with two rows of melody keys. Often known as the ‘box’, it comes in different basic keys. Instruments with rows tuned to B and C are currently the most popular, though some prominent players favour C and D instruments. An earlier form of the instrument, the diatonic ten-key melodeon, has been popular in Ireland since the late 19th century, and has been revived in recent years. Most accordions were made in the 20th century and imported from Germany, Italy and Britain, but French accordions have been gaining in popularity recently. The accordion's loud rhythmic sounds are particularly suited to dance music. Special techniques include the production of long notes by pulling the bellows and use of the left-hand basses to add colour to the melody. Piano accordions enjoyed a vogue for about 30 years beginning in the mid-1930s.

The Concertina (consairtín) popular in Ireland is the double-action Anglo-German concertina with about 30 buttons, which has undergone a revival in recent years. Traditionally, the instrument has been associated with women more than men. Its relatively small, delicate, rhythmic sound is well-suited to dance music. Some special effects such as ‘droning’ and ‘chording’ are employed.

The Bodhrán (from bodhar, ‘dull-sounding’ or ‘having a deafening sound’), a circular hand-held drum, is the principal Irish percussion instrument and is sometimes referred to as a tambourine. The instrument, which may at one time have been a winnowing tray, was used for centuries as a drum by men taking part in seasonal rituals, and it has only become widespread for music accompaniment since the 1950s. The most common size is approximately 46 cm in diameter. It is shallow, with a single skin attached to the wooden frame or rim. The skin may be of goat or other animal, and it is struck with a short wooden beater or with the fingers. Held by the rim or a crossbar with the left hand and struck with the right, when played sitting it is rested upright on the knee. The rhythms played by the bodhrán sometimes double or triple the beats of the music. Apart from the different sounds produced by the stick and the hand, the sound can be changed by striking the rim occasionally with the stick. A new bodhrán tradition has come into existence in the late 20th century, and modern techniques include altering the skin tension with left-hand pressure to produce different pitches, damping the skin with the palm of the left hand and playing cross-rhythms.

Several instruments are less widely accepted. Some are not felt to be fully in character with the nature of the music, while others are not portable or are hard to obtain. The four-string plectrum tenor Banjowas taken up as a melodic instrument by Irish musicians in the USA early in the 20th century, especially as a band instrument, and spread in Ireland beginning in the 1930s. It has a strong, driving sound. The eight-string Mandolin had a brief vogue in the 1960s and 70s for accompanying singing and for the playing of slow airs. The guitar was introduced into traditional music during the 20th century, at first among Irish musicians in North America to accompany melodic instruments, then in the song revival of the 1950s to accompany singing. It is now commonly used to accompany dance music, and is played fairly percussively using a pick. Keyboard instruments, chiefly the piano, but also the harpsichord and electronic keyboards, have been adapted to Irish music since the 1700s. In the 1960s the Greek Bouzouki was introduced into Irish traditional music and has been generally accepted. A playing style has evolved which is a mixture of chords and melodic runs, and flat-backed Irish forms of the instrument and different tunings are found. The free-reed mouth organ (orgán béil) has been played in Ireland since the 19th century. It requires considerable physical effort to play, but it is very suitable for dance music. The fife and piccolo are played in a variety of keys. They are used with drums in marching bands in Northern Ireland, and occasionally in dance bands. Lesser-played percussion instruments include: the giant ritual Lambeg drum, beaten with canes and played in parades across the north of Ireland; the bones, two sections of cowbone held in the hand and clacked against each other; and the domestic spoons, held with backs together in one hand and played against the other hand and the knees. The bones and spoons are used to accompany dance music.

7. Groups and bands.

In spite of the respect accorded the solo player, Irish traditional music is primarily a social music, and traditional musicians frequently play together in different combinations, in unison. The earliest groups were small, playing in small venues such as farmhouses or taverns for small numbers of dancers and using whatever instruments were available locally. But as the music began to be played in larger venues such as dance halls, from the end of the 19th century in Irish North America and from the beginning of the 20th century in Ireland, the groups became increasingly larger and rhythm instruments were introduced so that dancers could hear the beat more distinctly. Tenor banjos, double basses, pianos and drum kits formed part of the line-up together with the older fiddles, flutes and accordions. Sound recordings of these groups influenced the structure of groups in Ireland. By the early 1930s these dance ensembles, which remained popular until the 1960s, were known as ceili bands because they played for ceili dances (from céilithe or social occasions of the Gaelic League). They went into decline in the 1960s with changes in dancing fashions, although they underwent a small revival in the 1990s; their playing is especially in demand for social set dances.

Session playing – large and small informal groups of musicians playing for their own enjoyment for hours on end, often in a pub – spread in popularity during the 1950s. It continues strongly to the present and has become a standard social setting for the performance of music. The instruments used depend on the musicians present. The composer Seán Ó Riadaintroduced a new style of group playing in the early 1960s when he formed Ceoltóirí Cualann, a ‘folk orchestra’, with traditional melody instruments paralleling the strings-woodwind arrangement of an orchestra, and using the bodhrán. Also in the early 1960s three- or four-member ‘ballad groups’ developed. Under the influence of the North American folk revival, these singing groups specialized in English-language songs and accompanied themselves on guitars, mandolins, whistles and banjos. The Clancy Brothers, Tommy Makem and the Dubliners were among the most famous groups of this type. As instrumental playing gained ground again in the 1970s, most ballad groups faded away, but some added traditional melodic instruments such as fiddle and uilleann pipes and became mixed vocal and instrumental groups. Electronic instruments such as electric guitars and keyboards were increasingly introduced into traditional group playing from the 1970s onwards, and acoustic instruments were amplified. Among groups using this instrumentation, Planxty and later the Bothy Band enjoyed great popularity, especially in continental Europe and North America. Although both groups have disbanded, they continue to have an influence through their recordings. Some professional groups, for example Clannad and Altan, have moved from playing traditional music to playing popular music with traditional roots.

8. Dancing.

Traditional dance has always been intimately connected with traditional music in Ireland, but there is no information on the nature of Irish dancing (damhsa or rince) until recent centuries, although it seems to have resembled European dance in general. Some Irish country dances of the 1600s were performed at a rapid pace and employed sticks and swords. Jigs were also danced from as early as the 1600s, as were open-air long dances or dances involving lines of people, and open-air ring dances with large groups. From the 1700s to the present the main traditional solo dances have been step-dances: jigs of various kinds, reels, hornpipes and special solo set or exhibition dances. Old open-air group dances were generally replaced by indoor European group dances such as minuets and cotillions in the late 1700s and quadrilles in the 1800s. There developed Irish forms which were also danced to the music of the jig, reel and hornpipe and other measures. Quadrilles evolved into the present-day set-dances, danced in squares by four couples. Versions of these survive and have had a huge revival since the 1970s.

Group dances called ceili dances were developed along traditional line-dance models from the 1890s to the 1930s during the Gaelic Revival, but are no longer as popular as formerly. Traditionally, dancing took place outdoors in fields and at crossroads during the summer, and indoors in the larger farm houses during winter. In 1935 a national Public Dance Halls Act required all public dances to be licensed, and effectively ended the small country-house dances which had already begun to decline.

Competition has always been a feature of traditional step-dancing. It has been highly regulated since 1931 when An Coimisiún le Rincí Gaelacha (the Commission for Gaelic Dances), a division of the Gaelic League, was founded to establish rules and standards and to organize competitions. This movement gave rise to a large number of professional Irish dancing schools in Ireland and abroad and led to an elaborate formal development of steps, dances, costumes and competitions. World championships attract thousands of competitors. The majority of teachers and pupils in these schools are female, a contrast with the dancers of the past who were both male and female. Ballet and tap dance techniques have increasingly been incorporated into competition step-dancing in recent decades which has caused controversy. In the late 1990s, the stage shows Riverdance and Lord of the Dance, based on this type of dancing with newly composed music based on traditional idioms, have achieved an extraordinary degree of international popularity. Unregulated traditional step-dancing survives in pockets, especially in the west of Ireland, and lively upper body and arm movements are often part of this tradition which began to experience a revival during the 1990s.

9. Collecting and publishing.

The first collection of Irish music was A Complete Collection of the Most Celebrated Irish Tunes, published in Dublin in 1724. Several other commercial collections appeared during the same century. The earliest surviving manuscripts of Irish traditional music belong to the late 1700s, when they were compiled by musicians for their own use. The first person to collect Irish traditional music systematically for preservation was Edward Bunting (1773–1843), an Armagh organist who notated and published the music of the last of the traditional harpists. Other collectors followed Bunting's example during the 1800s, among them George Petrie of Dublin (1789–1866) and Patrick Weston Joyce (1827–1914) of Limerick. Large manuscript collections such as those by the Cork musician William Forde (c1795–1850) and Dublin dental surgeon Henry Hudson (1798–1889) have not yet been published; the collection of the Kerry clergyman James Goodman (1828–96) was published in 1998. A great deal of Irish music was also published commercially during the 19th century in Ireland, Britain and the USA. Captain Francis O'Neill of Cork (1848–1936) gathered thousands of tunes from his fellow emigrant musicians in Chicago and from rare books and manuscripts, and published these during the early years of the 20th century. He was followed later in the century by Francis Roche (1866–1961) of Limerick and Breandán Breathnach (1912–85) of Dublin. Large-scale institutional collecting has been undertaken from the 1930s to the present time by such bodies as the Irish Folklore Commission (now the Department of Irish Folklore, University College Dublin) and Radió Éireann, the national radio station. In the second half of the 20th century there was an explosion of book publications of songs and tunes.

10. Sound recording, radio and television.

The recording of Irish traditional music began on cylinders and discs in the 1890s, but little was recorded until the 1920s when hundreds of musicians and a few traditional singers were recorded on 78 r.p.m. discs in the USA. As these recordings filtered back to Ireland, notably those of the Sligo fiddle player Michael Coleman, they profoundly influenced the course of traditional music. Little was recorded in Ireland until the 1930s, and even then it was material largely in non-traditional arrangements. In the late 1950s, many commercial recordings were issued on LP by new, small companies, and some authentic styles of traditional performance such as sean-nós singing in Irish were heard on disc for the first time. Interest in this material grew and has continued to the present time, along with an interest in new styles of performance and record production. In the 1990s audio cassettes and CDs became the standard formats. Reel-to-reel magnetic tape, in use since the 1950s, has been almost entirely confined to use in radio and in archival field recording. Large collections of these recordings survive and they represent the nature of traditional performance more accurately than commercial recordings. Hundreds of thousands of private performances have been recorded on audio cassette tape since the 1970s. Cassettes are extensively used for learning music, and they have been important in the modern transmission of the music.

In the USA and Canada, commercial ‘Irish Hours’ with popular and traditional performers have been a regular radio feature since the 1920s in most cities along the East Coast. In Ireland, where radio was completely state controlled until the 1980s, broadcasting began in Belfast in 1924 and in Dublin in 1926. The Belfast station, part of the BBC network, rarely broadcasted traditional music until the 1950s, but the Dublin station, 2RN, later Radió Éireann, featured it every second or third night from its inception as policy. All radio performances were broadcast live from the studio until the introduction of field recording, on discs in the 1940s and on tape in the 1950s, for both stations. In the 1970s the establishment in the Republic of gaeltacht-based national Irish-language radio widened the availability of Irish-language song, and some local commercial and community stations set up in the 1980s feature traditional music prominently. Field recordings have had a powerful educational influence in reviving interest in traditional music and have closely documented the music in the second half of the 20th century.

Although Irish television programmes were first produced in Belfast in the late 1950s, traditional music was not a regular feature of the medium until Raidió Teilifís Éireann, the state television of the Republic, began broadcasting in Dublin in 1962. Typically, programmes were filmed in a studio and had a recital format with a presenter and an invited audience. Location filming, more expensive, has been far rarer. Production and direction was the preserve of RTÉ employees until the 1990s when independent production companies became involved.

11. Research.

Irish traditional music research has been confined mostly to a small group of interested individuals. An increasing number of third-level graduate and postgraduate studies are being carried out, especially in University College, Cork, and in the Irish World Music Centre of the University of Limerick. The larger libraries in Ireland, and also in Britain and the USA, hold important collections of printed traditional music. Public multimedia archives in Dublin include those of the Department of Irish Folklore of University College Dublin, Comhaltas Ceoltóirí Éireann and the Irish Traditional Music Archive.

3. Significance and reception.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

general

E. O'Curry: On the Manners and Customs of the Ancient Irish, ed. W.K. Sullivan (Dublin, 1873/R) [pubd posthumously]

F. O'Neill: Irish Folk Music: a Fascinating Hobby (Chicago, 1910/R)

F. O'Neill: Irish Minstrels and Musicians (Chicago, 1913/R)

D. O'Sullivan: Carolan: the Life, Times and Music of an Irish Harper (London, 1958/R)

S. Ó Tuama: An grá in amhráin na ndaoine [Love in the songs of the people] (Dublin, 1960)

J. Rimmer: The Irish Harp: Cláirseach na hÉireann (Dublin, 1969, 3/1984)

B. Breathnach: Folk Music and Dances of Ireland (Dublin, 1971, 2/1977) [incl. CD]

S. Bodley: ‘Technique and Structure in “Sean-Nós” Singing’, Irish Folk Music Studies: Éigse Cheol Tíre, i (Dublin,1973), 44–63

R. Morton: Come Day, Go Day, God Send Sunday: the Songs and Life Story … of John Maguire (London, 1973)

P. Ní Dhorchaí: Clár Amhrán an Achréidh [A catalogue of songs from East Galway] (Dublin, 1974)

R. Ní Fhlathartaigh: Clár Amhrán Bhaile na hInse [A catalogue of songs from West Galway] (Dublin, 1976)

P. Ó Fiannachta: Léachtaí Cholm Cille VII: an ceol i litríocht na Gaeilge [The Colmcille lectures: music in Irish literature] (Má Nuad, 1976)

B. Ó Madagáin: Gnéithe den Chaointeoireacht [Aspects of lamentation] (Dublin, 1978)

B. Breathnach: Dancing in Ireland (Clare, 1983)

A. Partridge: Caoineadh na dTrí Muire [The lamentation of the three Marys] (Dublin, 1983)

B. Ó Madagáin: ‘Functions of Irish Song in the Nineteenth Century’, Béaloideas [Oral tradition], ed. P. Ó Héalaí (Dublin, 1985), 130–216

H. Shields: A Short Bibliography of Irish Folk Song (Dublin, 1985)

N. Carolan: A Short Discography of Irish Folk Music (Dublin, 1987)

B. Breathnach: Ceol agus rince na hÉireann [Irish music and dance] (Dublin, 1989)

J. Porter: The Traditional Music of Britain and Ireland: a Research and Information Guide (New York, 1989)

A. Buckley: ‘Musical Instruments in Ireland from the Ninth to the Fourteenth Centuries: a Review of the Organological Evidence’, Irish Musical Studies, i: Musicology in Ireland, ed. G. Gillen and H. White (Dublin, 1990), 13–57

J.R. Cowdery: The Melodic Tradition of Ireland (Kent, OH, 1990) [incl. cass.]

S.C. Hamilton: The Irish Flute Player's Handbook (Cork, 1990/R)

R.K. Spottswood: ‘Section 36 Irish’, Ethnic Music on Records: a Discography of Ethnic Recordings Produced in the United States, 1893 to 1942, v (Urbana, IL, 1990), 2737–869

N. O'Connor: Bringing it All back Home (London, 1991/R)

H. Shields: Narrative Singing in Ireland: Lays, Ballads, Come-All-Yes and Other Songs (Dublin,1993)

A. Schuldes: Das Grosse CD-Buch Irland (Hattingen, 1996)

A. Fleischmann and others: Sources of Irish Traditional Music c1600–1855 (New York, 1998)

F. Vallely: The Companion to Irish Traditional Music (Cork, 1999),

C. Moloney: The Irish Manuscripts of Edward Burting: an Introduction and Catalogue, (Dublin, 2000),

instrumental music collections

J. and W. Neal: A Collection of the Most Celebrated Irish Tunes Proper for the Violin, German Flute or Hautboy (Dublin, 1724/R)

E. Bunting: A General Collection of the Ancient Irish Music (London, 1796/R)

P. O'Farrell: O'Farrell's Collection of National Irish Music for the Union Pipes (London, c1804/R)

E. Bunting: A General Collection of the Ancient Music of Ireland (London, 1809/R)

P. O'Farrell: O'Farrell's Pocket Companion for the Irish or Union Pipes (London, c1811)

E. Bunting: The Ancient Music of Ireland (Dublin, 1840/R)

G. Petrie: The Petrie Collection of the Ancient Music of Ireland, i (Dublin, 1855/R); ii (Dublin, 1882/R)

P.W. Joyce: Ancient Irish Music (Dublin, 1873, 3/1982)

C.V. Stanford, ed.: The Complete Petrie Collection of Irish Music as Noted by George Petrie (London,1902–5/R)

F. O'Neill: O'Neill's Music of Ireland: 1850 Melodies (Chicago, 1903/R)

P.W. Joyce: Old Irish Folk Music and Songs (London, 1909/R)

F. Roche: Collection of Irish Airs, Marches and Dance Tunes, i–iv (Dublin, 1911–32)

B. Breathnach: Ceol Rince na hÉireann [Dances music of Ireland], i–v (Dublin, 1963–99)

A. Feldman and E. O'Doherty: The Northern Fiddler (Belfast, 1979/R)

P. Mitchell and J. Small: The Piping of Patsy Touhey (Dublin, 1986)

T. Moylan: Johnny O'Leary of Sliabh Luachra: Dance Music from the Cork-Kerry Border (Dublin, 1994)

H. Shields: Tunes of the Munster Pipers: Irish Traditional Music from the James Goodman Manuscripts (Dublin, 1998)

song collections

J. Hardiman: Irish Minstrelsy, or Bardic Remains of Ireland (London, 1831/R)

J. O'Daly and others: The Poets and Poetry of Munster (Dublin, 1849/R)

P.W. Joyce: Irish Music and Song: a Collection of Songs in the Irish Language (Dublin, 1888/R)

M. and T. ÓMáille: Amhráin chlainne Gaedheal [Songs of the children of the Gael] (Dublin, 1905/R)

E. MacNeill and G. Murphy: Duanaire Finn: the Book of the Lays of Fionn, i–iii (Dublin, 1908–53)

H. Hughes: Irish Country Songs, i–iv (London, 1909–36)

The Crimson Banner Song Book: a Collection of the Latest Popular Songs and Poems for all True Orangemen (Belfast, 1911/R)

É. Ó Muirgheasa: Céad de Cheoltaibh Uladh [100 Ulster songs] (Dublin, 1915/R)

A.M. Freeman: ‘Irish Folk Songs from Ballyvourney [Co. Cork]’, JFSS, vi (1918–21), 95–342

E. Costelloe: Amhráin Mhuighe Seóla [Songs from Galway and Mayo] (London, 1919, 2/1923)

M. Ní Annagáin and S. de Chlanndiolúin: Londubh an Chairn: Songs of the Irish Gaels (Oxford, 1927)

S. Ó Dubhda: Duanaire Duibhneach [Songs from West Kerry] (Dublin, 1933)

Amhráin Chúige Uladh: ‘Muireadhach Méith’ [Songs of the Province of Ulster], i–ii (Dundalk,1937/R)

C. O Lochlainn: Irish Street Ballads (Dublin, 1939/R)

D. O'Sullivan: Songs of the Irish (Dublin, 1960/R)

L. de Noraidh: Ceol ón Mumhain [Songs from Munster] (Dublin, 1965)

G.-D. Zimmerman: Songs of Irish Rebellion: Political Street Ballads and Rebel Songs 1780–1900 (Dublin, 1967)

T. Ó Concheanainn: Nua-Dhuanaire III [New book of poetry] (Dublin, 1978)

D. Ó Muirithe: An tAmhrán Macarónach [The macaronic song] (Dublin, 1980)

H. Shields: Shamrock, Rose and Thistle: Folk Singing in North Derry (Belfast, 1981)

N. Ní Riain: Stór Amhrán: a Wealth of Songs from the Irish Tradition (Cork, 1988) [incl. cassette]

G. Huntington, L. Herrmann and J. Moulden: Sam Henry's Songs of the People (Athens, GA, 1990)

T. Munnelly and M. Deasy: The Mount Callan Garland: Songs from the Repertoire of Tom Lenihan of Knockbrack (Clare, 1994) [incl. cassette]

L. de Noraidh and others: Binneas thar meon: cnuasach d'amhráin agus de cheolta a dhein Liam de Noraidh in oirthear Mumhan [A collection of songs and airs by Liam de Noraidh in East Munster], i (Dublin, 1994)

Ireland [Hutcheson], Francis

(b Dublin, 13 Aug 1721; d Dublin, 5 Sept 1784). Irish amateur composer and violinist. He was the son of Francis Hutcheson, a Presbyterian minister who ran a private academy in Dublin, c1716–29, and then became professor of moral philosophy at the University of Glasgow. Francis the younger took the MA and the MD at Glasgow in 1744 and 1750 respectively. He was professor of chemistry at Trinity College, Dublin, from 1760 until 1767, and was twice president of the Royal College of Physicians of Ireland. He was on the music committee for the Rotunda Hospital concerts from 1774 until his death, and consultant physician to a number of Dublin hospitals. He was probably the ‘Dr Hutchinson’ who was a founder-member of Lord Mornington's Musical Academy (1757). There is continual confusion concerning the spelling of his name. When he was granted the degree of Doctor in Physic by the Board of Trinity College, Dublin in 1761, the Senate minutes described him as ‘Hutchinson’, though he signed the register ‘Hutcheson’. During the same period there was a Francis Hutchinson, five years his junior, who graduated from Trinity College in the late 1740s.

Although content to appear under his own name as an amateur violinist, he adopted the pseudonym of Francis Ireland as a composer. He wrote several vocal works of considerable charm and merit, of which the four-part madrigal Return, return my lovely maid is a particularly fine example. The Noblemen’s and Gentlemen’s Catch Club awarded him three prizes between 1771 and 1773, for his catch As Colin one evening, his glee Jolly Bacchus (Dublin, c1780) and his serious glee Where weeping yews. 11 glees and eight catches by him are printed in Warren’s collections, and The Gentleman’s Catch Book published in Dublin by Henry Mountain includes six items by him. He also published his father’s System of Moral Philosophy (1755). (B. Boydell: A Dublin Musical Calender, 1700–1760, Dublin, 1988)

BRIAN BOYDELL

Ireland, John (Nicholson)

(b Bowdon, Cheshire, 13 Aug 1879; d Rock Mill, Washington, Sussex, 12 June 1962). English composer, pianist and teacher.

1. Life.

A somewhat painful and unhappy childhood, followed by the early death of both parents, did much to form the lonely, introspective side of Ireland's personality. Throughout his life he was plagued by feelings of insecurity and inadequacy, which affected his creativity in a number of ways, not all of them negative. His acute self-criticism, his yearning for a spiritual home – the Channel Islands or West Sussex – and the related desire to escape from the present into a distant past, deeply affected much of his music and gave it its distinctive character.

His training was extensive and thorough. He entered the RCM in 1893 and for the next four years concentrated his attention on the piano, studying with Frederic Cliffe. During that time he became increasingly involved in composition and determined to study under Stanford, which he did from 1897 to 1901. Stanford's methods could be harsh, even cruel, and the sensitive Ireland suffered more than most, but he was not completely subdued and in later life he always spoke gratefully of Stanford's teaching. In 1895 he took his FRCO, and ten years later a Durham BMus. In 1932 Durham University honoured him with a doctorate; he had already received an honorary RAM and FRCM.

On leaving the RCM Ireland made his living mainly as an organist and choirmaster. He was at St Luke’s, Chelsea, from 1904 to 1926, during which time he established himself in the front rank of the English composers of his generation. From at least 1920 to 1939 he taught composition at the RCM, where his pupils included Richard Arnell, Benjamin Britten, Alan Bush, E.J. Moeran and Humphrey Searle. For many years he lived at Gunter Grove, Chelsea, in what Eugene Goossens described as ‘the quiet haven of a few intimate friends’. Friendship meant much to Ireland, especially after his disastrous marriage, which ended after only a year in 1928. The friendships with his pupil Helen Perkin, who inspired the Piano Concerto (1930), and with the writer Arthur Machen are of particular interest. He was much in sympathy with Machen's pagan mysticism, which is reflected in a number of works, notably the orchestral poem The Forgotten Rite (1913) and Legend (1933) for piano and orchestra. Places, too, had a strong influence on his inner life: Chelsea, Deal, Chanctonbury Ring and several locations in the Channel Islands have close associations with his music. His retirement to Guernsey was cut short by the German occupation in 1940, and it was West Sussex that finally claimed him. Despite failing health, this closing phase in his life was perhaps the happiest. He was no longer composing – his last important work, the film score for The Overlanders, dates from 1946–7 – but he saw a revival of interest in his music, for which the newly-formed John Ireland Society (1960) was partly responsible.

2. Works.

Ireland's published compositions span a period of 50 years, from the two string quartets of 1897 – these were suppressed throughout his lifetime – to the overture Satyricon (1946) and the music for The Overlanders. The solid workmanship insisted on by Stanford provided a lasting foundation: in Ireland's best work a firm structural sense is combined with a deeply personal poetry. The accomplished Brahmsian manner of his youth – as, for instance, in the Sextet (1898) – was radically changed by the impact of Debussy, Ravel and Stravinsky. It was in the piano music that these influences worked themselves out, leaving Ireland with a feeling for harmony and sonority decidedly his own. In his mature work there is an English lyricism that is closer to Elgar than to Vaughan Williams, a chromatically embellished harmony that is quite distinct, and a balance of interest that shows strong roots in the Classical-Romantic tradition.

Although it was with songs and piano pieces that Ireland first came before a wider public, his most important early successes were in the field of chamber music: the Phantasie Trio (1906), the Violin Sonata no. 1 (1908–9, Cobbett Prize) and, in particular, the Violin Sonata no.2 (1915–17). This last is a landmark in the English music of that period, and both the Cello Sonata (1923) and the Fantasy-Sonata for clarinet and piano (1943) are likewise outstanding creations in their own genres. All three works are distinguished by their lyrical and structural qualities and also by the admirable, wholly integrated writing for the piano. Of the three piano trios, no.2 (1917), which is another one–movement ‘fantasy’, is the most impressive.

Ireland developed at a time when the piano could still be regarded as a sounding-board for the romantic temperament. His Piano Sonata (1918–20) is a large-scale, full-bodied utterance – ‘one of the finest and most important since Liszt's’ (Hill, 1946) – but it is not without certain weaknesses of expression, notably an excessive reliance upon semiquaver figuration, particularly in the middle of the texture, and a tendency to inflated climaxes. The leaner, more experimental Sonatina (1926–7) is likely to be thought the better work; but Ireland's most striking contribution is in the best of his shorter pieces, of which three broad types are readily discernible. The central vein is contemplative and includes such pieces as For Remembrance and Soliloquy, which seem to contain the very essence of Ireland's sentiment. On either side are the more Impressionistic, represented in different ways by Amberley Wild Brooks and Le Catioroc (from Sarnia), and the frankly sanguine, with simple, lively rhythms – for instance, Merry Andrew and Ragamuffin(from London Pieces). Some of the richest pieces, notably April, do not fit comfortably into any of these categories but reveal Ireland's lyrical gift at its most impressive – a lyricism that is harmonic and textural no less than melodic.

The many songs are of unequal quality. While the best of them are among the finest by English composers this century, there are others in which a natural warmth of sentiment tends to spill over into sentimentality. The once popular Spring Sorrow and The Bells of San Marie seem somewhat faded, confined within the taste of their period. At the other extreme are the Five Poems by Thomas Hardy (1926) and the Songs Sacred and Profane (1929–31). Ireland's songs are usually as good as their ‘accompaniments’: faced with a poem that he liked, he was never at a loss for an eloquent voice part, but the magic really worked when his poetic feeling for the piano was fully engaged. There are also some very successful songs in the robust, boisterous manner of I have Twelve Oxen, in which the piano is strictly accompanimental.

Ireland's achievement in the orchestral field is small in extent but distinguished. The Piano Concerto, one of his richest and most rewarding works, is a classic of 20th-century English music and its posthumous neglect can only be deplored. It is individual in both form and content, and is capable of making a wide appeal. The Concertino pastorale for strings (1939) and A London Overture (1936) are also well worth reviving. In all three works there is a characteristic blend of outgoing and in-dwelling qualities of expression, and a combination of poetic fancy and precise craftsmanship that is unmistakable. The earlier of the two orchestral poems, The Forgotten Rite, has a very distinctive atmosphere, but the somewhat later Mai-Dun is less successful. Late in life, in the splendid score for The Overlanders, he showed how confident and vigorous a composer for orchestra he might have been (see the Suite, ed. Charles Mackerras, and Two Symphonic Studies, arr. Geoffrey Bush).

The choral work These Things shall Be was written in fulfilment of a BBC commission to mark the coronation of George VI. It was a challenging response, both humanist and socialist, and the music was designed to have a wide and immediate appeal: though full of personal fingerprints, it manages to suggest not only Parry but also Walton. Longmire wrote that in postwar disillusionment Ireland came to hate the work; at the time, however, it undoubtedly expressed his deepest hopes for humankind. The musical invention may well be noble and apt rather than inspired, but a fine performance can be a moving experience.

WORKS

(selective list)

vocal

Choral: Vexilla regis, S, A, T, B, SATB, brass, org, 1898; Te Deum, SATB, org, 1907; Greater Love Hath No Man (motet), Tr, Bar, SATB, org, 1911; An Island Hymn, TTBB, 1915; These Things Shall Be (J.A. Symonds), Bar/T, SATB, orch, 1937; Ex ore innocentium, Tr, pf/org, 1944; service settings, hymns, incl. Love Unknown, 1919; partsongs, unison songs

Song-Cycles/sets: [5] Songs of a Wayfarer (W. Blake, W. Shakespeare, D.G. Rossetti, E. Dowson, J.V. Blake), c1905–11; Marigold (D.G. Rossetti, Dowson), 3 songs, 1913; 2 Songs (R. Brooke), 1917–18; Mother and Child (C. Rossetti), 8 songs, 1918; 3 Songs (A. Symons), 1918–19; 2 Songs (A. Huxley, P. Sidney), 1920; The Land of Lost Content (A.E. Housman: A Shropshire Lad), 6 songs, 1920–21; 3 Songs (T. Hardy), 1925; 5 Poems (Hardy), 1926; 3 Songs (E. Brontë, anon., D.G. Rossetti), 1926; We'll to the Woods No More (Housman), 2 songs and 1 piano solo, 1927; 2 Songs (Symons, D.G. Rossetti), 1928; [6] Songs Sacred and Profane (A. Meynell, S.T. Warner, W.B. Yeats), 1929–31; 5 16th-Century Poems (W. Cornish, T. Howell, anon., N. Breton, R. Edwardes), 1938

Other songs: Hope the Hornblower (H. Newbolt), 1911; When Lights Go Rolling Round the Sky (J.V. Blake), 1911; Sea Fever (J. Masefield), 1913; The Heart's Desire (Housman), 1917; The Bells of San Marie (Masefield), 1918; Earth's Call (H. Munro), 1918; If There Were Dreams to Sell (T.L. Beddoes), 1918; I Have Twelve Oxen, 1918; Remember (M. Coleridge), 1918; The Sacred Flame (Coleridge), 1918; Spring Sorrow (R. Brooke), 1918; Hawthorn Time (Housman), 1919; Love is a Sickness Full of Woes (S. Daniel), 1921; The Merry Month of May (T. Dekker), 1921; The Vagabond (Masefield), 1922; What Art Thou Thinking of?, 1924; When I am Dead, my Dearest (C. Rossetti), 1924; Great Things (Hardy), 1925; Santa Chiara (A. Symonds), 1925; If We Must Part (Darson), 1929; Tutto è sciolto (Joyce), 1932

instrumental

Orch: Tritons, sym. prelude, 1899; Orch Poem, a, 1903–4; The Forgotten Rite, prelude, 1913, Mai-Dun, sym. rhapsody, 1920–21; Pf Conc., E, 1930; A Downland Suite, brass band, 1932; Legend, pf, orch, 1933; Comedy Ov., brass band, 1934; A London Ov., 1936; Concertino pastorale, str, 1939; Epic March, 1942; Julius Caesar (incid music), 1942; Satyricon, ov., 1946; The Overlanders (film score), 1946–7

Chbr: Str Qt no.1, 1897; Str Qt no.2, 1897; Sextet, cl, hn, str qt, 1898; Phantasie-Trio, a, pf trio, 1906; Sonata no.1, d, vn, pf, 1908–9, rev. 1917, rev. 1944; Sonata no.2, a, vn, pf, 1915–17; Pf Trio no.2, 1917; Sonata, g, vc, pf, 1923; Pf Trio no.3, E-e, 1938; Fantasy-Sonata, E-e, cl, pf, 1943

Kbd (pf, unless otherwise stated): In Those Days, 2 pieces, 1895; Sea Idyll, 1899–1900; Elegiac Romance, org, 1902; Villanella, org, 1904; Capriccio, org, 1911; Decorations, 3 pieces, 1912–13; The Almond Tree, 1913; [4] Preludes, 1913–15; Rhapsody, 1915; [3] London Pieces, 1917–20; Merry Andrew, 1918; The Towing Path, 1918; Sonata, 1918–20; Summer Evening, 1919; The Darkened Valley, 1920; Amberley Wild Brooks, 1921; For Remembrance, 1921; Equinox, 1922; On a Birthday Morning, 1922; Soliloquy, 1922; Prelude, E, 1924; April, 1925; Bergomask, 1925; Sonatina, 1926–7; February's Child, 1929; Aubade, 1929; Ballade, 1929; The Ballade of London Nights, c1930; Month's Mind, 1933; Green Ways, 3 pieces, 1937; Sarnia, 3 pieces, 1940–41; 3 Pastels, 1941; Miniature Suite, org, 1944; Columbine, 1949; Meditation on John Keble's Rogationtide Hymn, org, 1958

MSS in GB-Lbl

Principal publishers: Augener, Boosey & Hawkes, Chester, Curwen, Galliard, Novello, Stainer and Bell, Thames

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Grove5 (P. Crossley-Holland) [incl. selective work-list]

Grove6 (H. Ottaway) [incl. further bibliography]

E. Evans: ‘John Ireland’, MQ, v (1919), 213–20

W. Lyle: ‘Songs of John Ireland’, The Sackbut, ii/12 (1921–2), 27–30

J. Holbrooke: Contemporary British Composers (London, 1925), 72–82

A.E.F. Dickinson: ‘The Progress of John Ireland’, MR, i (1940), 343–53

N. Townshend: ‘The Achievement of John Ireland’, ML, xxiv (1943), 65–74

R. Hill: ‘John Ireland’, British Music of Our Time, ed. A.L. Bacharach (Harmondsworth, 1946), 99–112

H. Ottaway: ‘The Piano Music of John Ireland’, MMR, lxxxiv (1954), 258–66

M. Schafer: British Composers in Interview (London, 1963), 24–35

J. Longmire: John Ireland: Portrait of a Friend (London, 1969)

M.V. Searle: John Ireland: the Man and his Music (Tunbridge Wells, 1979)

C. Scott-Sutherland: John Ireland (Rickmansworth, 1980)

G. Bush: ‘John Ireland: a Personal Impression’, Left, Right and Centre (London, 1983), 100–112

S. Banfield: Sensibility and English Song (Cambridge, 1985), 159–173, 233–247

B. Docherty: ‘The Murdered Self: John Ireland and English Song 1903–12’, Tempo, no.162 (1989), 19–26

M. Pilkington: Gurney, Ireland, Quilter and Warlock (London, 1989)

A. Rowlands: ‘John Ireland: a Significant Composer?’, R.C.M. Magazine, clxvii (1992), 18–24; clxviii (1993), 13–19

S. Craggs: John Ireland: a Catalogue, Discography and Bibliography (Oxford, 1993)

F. Richards: The Music of John Ireland (London, 2000)

HUGH OTTAWAY

Irgens-Jensen, Ludvig (Paul)

(b Christiania [now Oslo], 13 April 1894; d Sicily, 11 April 1969). Norwegian composer. He studied literature and languages at the University of Oslo, during which time he also composed. Self-taught in composition and theory, he received his only formal music instruction in the piano. He made his début as a composer in 1920 with freely tonal songs in a late Romantic idiom. During the 1920s and 30s he simplified his style while retaining his music’s lyrical aspects. Characterized by modal polyphony and classical ideals of form, but with strong expressive qualities, his music was quite different to that of his Norwegian contemporaries, and came to inspire others. He achieved fame through his prize in the Schubert competition for his orchestral work Passacaglia (1928), probably the most performed Norwegian orchestral piece from this period. In 1930 his dramatic symphony for soloists, chorus and orchestra Heimferd (‘Coming Home’) won the first prize in a competition for the 1930 St Olav Festival. Even though its text is closely linked to the national celebration, the work contains little Norwegian folk music; the composer’s outlook was rather towards Europe. During World War II Irgens-Jensen composed music to poems by resistance poets, which was anonymously broadcast from London’s free Norwegian Radio. He served on various boards, committees and juries. In 1945 he was awarded an annual grant from the Norwegian national assembly, and in 1947 was elected a member of the Swedish Royal Academy of Music.

WORKS

Stage: Driftekaren [The Drover] (incid music, H.E. Kinck), 1937; Kong Baldvines Armring (incid music, H. Stibolt), 1937; Mennesket [Mankind] (H. Wergeland), 1945; Robin Hood (incid music, Irgens-Jensen and S. Hagerup-Bull), 1945; Heimferd [Coming Home] (op, O. Gullvåg), 1947 [version of his Dramatic Symphony]

Vocal: Japanischer Frühling (Jap. poetry, Ger. trans. H. Bethge), 1v, orch, 1920, rev. 1957; Chrysantemum (Solstad), 1v, orch, 1922; Le flambeau vivant (C. Baudelaire), 1v, orch, 1922; Skumring [Twilight] (E. Solstad), 1v, orch, 1922; Hägring [Mirage] (Gripenberg), 1v, orch, 1923; Das Mädchen auf der Brücke (Chin., trans. Bethge), 1v, orch, 1923; Ökenridten (B. Gripenberg), 1v, orch, 1923; Heimferd (dramatic sym, Gullvåg), solo vv, chorus, orch, 1930; Der Gott und die Bajadere (cant., J.W. von Goethe), solo vv, chorus, orch, 1933; Bols vise [Bol’s Song] (Kinck), 1v, orch, 1938; Altar (H. Moren Vesaas), 1v, str, 1939, rev. 1963; Lutad motgärdet (J.L. Runeberg), 1v, orch, 1941, rev. 1963; De brendtevåre gårder [They Burnt our Farms] (I. Hagerup), male chorus, orch, 1945; Til Kongen (A. Øverland), 1v, orch/pf, 1945; other songs, choral works

Orch: Tema con variazioni, 1925; Passacaglia, 1928; Bols vise, vn, orch, 1938; Altar, vn, str orch, 1939, rev. 1963; Kong Baldvines Armring, suite, small orch, 1939 [from incid music to play]; Partitasinfonica, sym. suite, 1939, rev. 1951 [from Driftekaren]; Pastorale religioso, small orch, 1939, rev. 1944, rev. 1963; Rondomarziale, 1942; Sinfonie, d, 1942; Canto d’omaggio, 1950; Air, small orch, ?1959

Chbr: Rondo, vn, pf, 1924; Sonate, vn, pf, 1924; Pf Qnt, 1926; Bols vise, vn, pf, 1938; Altar, vn, pf, 1939; I blodethans blømde, str qt, 1939; Pastorale religioso, str qt, 1939; Duo, 2 vn, 1943

Pf pieces

Principal publisher: Norsk Musikforlag/NMIC

BIBLIOGRAPHY

NBL (J. Arbo)

J. Arbo: ‘Filologen som overrasket verden med musikk’, Norsk musikkliv, x/1 (1943), 6–9

S. Lind: ‘Ludvig Irgens Jensen som komponist: en skisse på grunnlagavtre orkesterverker’, Nordisk musikkultur, ii (1953), 111–14

B. Wallner: Vår tids musik i norden: från 20-tal till 60-tal (Stockholm, Copenhagen and Oslo, 1968)

A.O. Vollsnes: Modernisme på norsk – Komponisten Ludvig Irgens-Jensen (Oslo, 1996)

ARVID O. VOLLSNES

Irian Jaya.

See Melanesia, §II.

Iriarte [Yriarte], Tomás de

(b Puerto de la Cruz de Orotava, Canary Islands, 18 Sept 1750; d Madrid, 17 Sept 1791). Spanish poet and devotee of music. He was educated in Madrid by his uncle Juan, librarian to the king. While pursuing a successful literary career, he held government posts as translator and archivist. An ardent amateur musician, he is said to have studied with Rodríguez de Hita; he played violin and viola and was active in various musical circles of the city. His very popular didactic poem La música was first published in Madrid in 1779. Numerous reprints followed, and it was translated into French, Italian, German and English (by John Balfour in 1807); a facsimile reprint of the first edition was published in Barcelona in 1984. Its five cantos begin with a treatment of the elements of music – scales, melody, harmony, rhythm and tempo; canto II discusses expression – the styles of music which invoke or depict joy, tranquillity, militancy, sadness, wrath or terror. The section on church music – chant, polyphony, concerted works and the organ – mentions Morales, Guerrero and Victoria among earlier masters. In describing theatrical music – the past and present state of opera and the native zarzuela – Iriarte praised the operas of Gluck in particular. In the last canto, which describes social music, the symphonic and chamber forms, he gave special praise to Haydn, notably for his string quartets. The work is followed by explanatory footnotes and an essay on the merits of Spanish as a language for musical settings.

Iriarte’s other literary works include many musical references. He also wrote poems and dramas for musical treatment, including the libretto to Guzmán el bueno, first performed in Cádiz in 1790, and later in Madrid in 1791. This work launched the Spanish vogue for melodrama, in which spoken drama is accompanied by instrumental music. For this production Iriarte also composed ten brief orchestral pieces (MS in E-Mm) which are interesting illustrations of his musical interpretations of the emotions. Unfortunately the numerous quartets and sonatas he is said to have composed have not been found.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

subiráHME

M. Menéndezy Pelayo: Historia de las ideas estéticas en Espana (Madrid, 1883–91, rev. 3/1962 by E. Sáchez Reyes), iii

E. Cotarelo y Mori: Iriarte y su época (Madrid, 1897)

R. Mitjana y Gordón: ‘La musique en Espagné’, EMDC, I/iv (1920), 1913–2351, esp. 2178, 2185

J. Subirá: El compositor Iriarte (Barcelona, 1949–50) [contains excerpts from the music of Guzmán el bueno]

R.M. Cox: Tomás de Iriarte (New York, 1972)

F.J. León Tello: La teoría española de la música en los siglos XVII y XVIII (Madrid, 1974)

A. Martín Moreno: Historia de la música española, iv: Siglo XVIII (Madrid, 1985)

ALMONTE HOWELL

Iribarren, Juan Francés de.

See Francés de Iribarren, Juan.

Irino, Yoshirō

(b Vladivostok, 13 Nov 1921; d Tokyo, 23 June 1980). Japanese composer. In 1927 his family returned to Japan, where Irino studied economics at Tokyo University (1941–3), while playing the clarinet in a student orchestra and studying composition privately with Saburō Moroi. After graduation he worked at the Bank of Tokyo and briefly served in the navy, but in 1946 he made composing his profession, joining the Shinsei Kai group which he organized with Minao Shibata and Kunio Toda. He took second prize at the Mainichi Music Competitions of 1948 and 1949, and won the newly-founded Mainichi Music Prize in 1949, 1950 and 1954. From 1949 to 1954 he worked as a music editor for the publishing house Tokyo Ongaku Shoin, and he taught at the Tōhō Gakuen School of Music, where he was appointed lecturer (1952), assistant professor (1955), professor (1959) and director (1960). The school became a college in 1961 and Irino continued as director until 1970; in 1973 he was appointed professor of composition at the Tokyo College of Music.

Meanwhile Irino continued to receive many prizes, including the German Ambassador's Prize (1957 and 1959), the Otaka Prize (1958 and 1959) and the Italia Prize (1958). In 1957 he organized the Institute of Twentieth Century Music and started the annual festival for contemporary music with fellow composers. He received a French government scholarship in 1962 and visited Europe and the USA frequently thereafter; in summer 1968 he was visiting professor at the University of Hawaii. In 1967 he helped organize the Japanese-German Festival for New Music and at the same time he became chief administrator of the Amis de la Musique de 20ème Siècle, which sponsored a series of concerts. In 1972 he founded Japan Music Life, an association for the promotion of various musical activities in Japan, and in 1973 he took a group of musicians to Europe, the USA and Canada to perform traditional and contemporary Japanese music. He was made an honorary member of the Asian Composers’ League in 1974.

Irino's early works, the orchestral and chamber pieces of before 1950, reveal a certain stylistic influence from late Romanticism, but his interests quickly turned to atonality. He made his first attempt at serial writing in the String Sextet (1950) and at 12-note serialism in the Concerto da camera for seven instruments (1951). The Sinfonietta (1953) combines Schoenbergian 12-note serial techniques with a Blacher-like organic rhythmic structure. These and other works distinguished him as the first Japanese to use 12-note methods as his major tool, and at the same time he applied his comprehensive knowledge of the music of the past in such works as the Concerto grosso (1957), Ricercari for chamber orchestra (1954) and the Divertimento for seven wind instruments (1958), all within atonal idioms.

Although he has written some choral works, Irino is primarily a composer of instrumental music, particularly for orchestra or chamber ensemble. In deploying such forces he displays a sensitive treatment of each instrumental timbre according to strict structures of his own devising. He has experimented with unusual combinations, as in the Suite for jazz ensemble (1960) and the Quintet for clarinet, alto saxophone, trumpet, piano and violin (1958), and quickly took an interest in traditional Japanese instruments, writing the Music for Two Koto as early as 1957. It was not, however, until after 1966 that he began a more serious attempt at combining the idioms of traditional Japanese music with his own atonal and serial style, an attempt made, for example, in the Three Movements for two koto and jūshichigen (1966) and Wandlungen for two shakuhachi and orchestra (1973, commissioned by the Koussevitzky Foundation). The Irino Prize, established a year after his death, encourages the activities of young composers.

WORKS

(selective list)

operas

broadcast by NHK unless otherwise stated

Kamisama ni shikarareta otoko [The Man in Fear of God] (radio operetta, N. Uno, after S. Komada), 25 May 1954

Fuefuki to Ryūō no musumetachi [The Piper and the Dragon King's Daughters] (radio op, M. Takeuchi), 1959

Sarudon no mukoiri [The Marriage of Mr Monkey] (radio op, M. Yokomichi, after I. Wakabayashi), 26 Nov 1961, staged, Tokyo, Metropolitan Festival Hall, 15 March 1962 [pt 2 of Mittsuno mukashiko (Three Old Tales), pt 1 by Moroi, pt 3 by Shimizu]

Aya no tsuzumi [The Damask Drum] (TV op, H. Mizuno, after a nō play), 9 Aug 1962, staged, Tokyo, Yūbin Chokin Hall, 26 March 1975

Sonezaki shinjū [The Lovers' Suicide at Sonezaki] (chbr op, after M. Chikamatsu), Osaka, Morinomiya Pirot Hall, 10 April 1980

dramatic and vocal

Dramatic: Wasurerareta jinsei [A Life which I had Forgotten] (radio drama), Tokyo, 1958; Hontō no sorairo [The Real Blue Sky] (radio drama), Tokyo, 1963; Hiren [Secret Love] (dance drama), Osaka, 1964; Koganegumo [The Golden Spider] (radio score), Tokyo, 1964; Kurishna no fue [Flute of Krishna], 1v, chbr orch, Tokyo, 1965; Bonnen (dance drama), Tokyo, 1966; Honoo [Fire] (dance drama), Tokyo, 1966; Globus III, vn, vc, pf, hp, Jap. insts, 2 dancers, 1975

Vocal: Iwa [Rock], male chorus, 1958; Shiroi hako [White Box], chorus, 1959; 3 Pieces, male chorus, 1960; 3 Pieces, female chorus, 1960; Kōru niwa [Frozen Garden], chorus, 1961; Byakuya [White Night], S, pf, 1966; Fuji san [Mount Fuji], male chorus, 1966; Oni no yomesan [Devil's Bride], chorus, 1970; Hyōdan, S, T, hpd, kayago, 1977; Ps cxxxi, female v, pf, 1978

instrumental

Orch: Concert Ov., 1948; Sym., 1948; Sinfonietta, small orch, 1953; Ricercari, chbr orch, 1954; Double Conc., vn, pf, orch, 1955; Conc. grosso, 1957; Sinfonia, 1959; Conc., str, 1960; Suite, jazz ens, 1960; Music for Hpd, Perc, 19 Str, 1963; Sym. no.2, 1964; Sai un [Coloured Clouds], 15 str, 1972; Wandlungen, 2 shakuhachi, orch, 1973

Chbr: Str Qt, 1945; Pf Trio, 1948; Str Sextet, 1950; Conc. da camera, 7 insts, 1951; Str Qt no.2, 1957; Qnt, cl, a sax, tpt, pf, vn, 1958; Divertimento, 7 wind, 1958; Str Trio, 1965; 3 Movts, 2 koto, jūshichigen, 1966; Trio '70 for H.R.S., 1970; Sonata, 4 insts, 1970; Globus I, hn, perc, 1971; Globus II, mar, db, perc, 1971; Three Scenes, 3 koto, 1972; Strömung, fl, hp, perc, 1973; Shōyō, Jap. insts, 1973; Klänge, perc, 1976; Cosmos, vn, pf, shakuhachi, 2 koto, perc, 1978

1–2 insts: Music for 2 Koto, 1957; Music for Vn, Pf, 1957; 3 Pf Pieces, 1958; Music for Vn, Vc, 1959; Music for Vib, Pf, 1961; Music for 2 Pf, 1963; Sonata, vn, pf, 1967; Duo concertante, shakuhachi, koto, 1969; 2 Fantasies, nijūgen, jūshichigen, 1969; 3 Movts, vc, 1969; 2 Phrases, koto, 1971; Suite, va, 1971; Five Days, vn, va, 1972; 3 Improvisations, fl, 1972; Movement, mar, 1977

Principal publisher: Ongaku-no-Tomo Sha

WRITINGS

Jūnion no ongaku [Music of 12 tones] (Tokyo, 1953)

Waseigaku [Harmony] (Tokyo, 1974)

trans. of works by H. Erpf, E. Karkoschka, R. Leibowitz, F. Prieberg, J. Rufer, H. Wörner

BIBLIOGRAPHY

K. Akiyama: Nihon no sakkyokuka-tachi [Japanese composers], ii (Tokyo, 1979)

K. Akiyama and K. Toda: ‘Sakkyokuka Irino Yoshirō iku’ [The composer Irino gone], Ongakugeijutsu, xxxviii/8 (1980), 5–12, 44–7 [incl. list of works]

K. Hori, ed.: Nihon no sakkyoku nijusseiki [Japanese compositions in the 20th century] (Tokyo, 1999)

MASAKATA KANAZAWA

Irish harp (i)

(Irish cláirseach; Scots Gael. clàrsach).

The specific name for the regionally distinctive kind of harp made in Ireland and Gaelic Scotland between the 12th and 18th centuries. 14 instruments and fragments survive from the 14th century onwards. Characteristic structural features were: i) a resonator (‘box’) hollowed from a single block of wood (generally willow) to a thickness of about 1·3 cm on the curved belly, but with thicker sides; this was closed at the back by a wooden ‘door’; ii) a curved forepillar, most of which was T-shaped in section; iii) a deeply curved neck; iv) 30–36 brass strings, attached at the left side of the neck to metal tuning pins and at the lower end to wooden toggles inside the box; v) horseshoe-shaped metal loops (‘shoes of the strings’) fixed round the friction area of each string hole in the belly.

14th- and 15th-century instruments were small and low-headed, the neck protruding slightly over the forepillar, and were diatonically or perhaps modally tuned. 16th- and 17th-century instruments were larger and high-headed. The harp was set at the player's left shoulder, the left hand playing in the upper register and the right hand in the lower. Strings were plucked with long fingernails, trimmed to a point. In his Dialogo della musica antica e della moderna (Florence, 1581) Galilei described an Irish harp which he had examined as having 29 strings, i.e. one less than the usual number on later Irish instruments. He also related the characteristic playing technique, which had been described to him by its Irish gentleman owner.

Outside Ireland, some Irish harps were used in the performance of non-Irish music. These instruments may have been tuned chromatically and were not necessarily plucked with the fingernails in the manner of the Irish professional players. Praetorius provides the only written evidence of a partly chromatic tuning (Syntagma musicum, iii, 1620), but his discussion does not make reference to any idiosyncratic playing technique. His tuning pattern was perhaps received at second-hand or imperfectly understood, since it contains several repeated or misplaced segments. When allowance is made for these, a pattern comparable with partly chromatic tuning on other contemporary harp types becomes clear. With 43 strings, the overall compass was given as C–e''', the lowest octave having a flattened B, the second both b and b, the third and fourth octaves completely chromatic and the highest four strings tuned c''', c''', d''' and e'''. The neck and forepillar of the Cloyne (formerly Dalway) harp, made in 1620 by local craftsmen for a member of the Fitzgerald family, are massive and elaborately carved with animals (derived from non-Irish sources), grotesque hybrids and lofty sentiments about music (see illustration). This is the only Irish instrument which displays evidence of a tuning pattern resembling that given by Praetorius. There are 45 pinholes in one rank in the neck, plus an additional seven set alongside the 15th to the 21st holes in the main rank. In the absence of the original box, the function and tuning of these is uncertain.

Late 17th- and early 18th-century Irish harps continued to be diatonically tuned; there was virtually no chromatic requirement in characteristic Irish harp repertory. By the late 18th century, the use of brass-strung harps played with long, pointed fingernails had ceased, except by the centenarian Denis Hempson. Exact replicas of some surviving instruments have confirmed that big-boxed, brass-strung Irish harps did indeed have the qualities attributed to them by Giraldus Cambrensis in the 12th century, namely a powerful low register and a sweet upper register, and by Praetorius, who wrote of their lovely resonance.

A few 18th-century notations, made at performances by some of the last professional players, contain traces of idiosyncratic musical structures and performing practices in which those characteristics were exploited. For example, the earliest source of the music of Carolan’s praise piece Fanny Dillon is in A Collection of the Most Celebrated Irish Tunes (Dublin, 1724), arranged metrically for amateurs of the violin, flute or oboe. But nearly four decades later, Edward Bunting and James Cody notated from live performance a form in which alternating vocal and instrumental modules can be clearly identified. Bunting also made two notations of Carolan’s John Jones, one from a fine but unidentified executant and one from a solo harp performance by Denis Hempson in 1793. This impassioned lover’s complaint is pentatonic, and where the instrumental interlude in Fanny Dillon, addressed to a woman, is in the harp’s middle and upper registers, that in John Jones is in the middle and lower registers. Complete performance of these long, highly personal pieces would have taken at least 15 minutes and the harp interludes would no doubt have varied in intensity to match the sentiments of the verses (see Rimmer, 1997). (See also Harp, §V, 1(ii); Cláirseach; and Clàrsach.)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

R.B. Armstrong: The Irish and Highland Harps (Edinburgh, 1904/R)

J. Rimmer: The Irish Harp (Cork, 1969, 3/1984)

S. Larchet Cuthbert: The Irish Harp Book (Dublin, 1975)

M. Billinge and B. Shaljean: ‘The Dalway or Fitzgerald Harp’,EMc, xv (1987), 175–87

P. Holman: ‘The Harp in Stuart England’, EMc, xv (1987), 188–203

J. Rimmer: ‘Harp Repertoire in Eighteenth-Century Ireland: Perceptions, Misconceptions and Reworkings’, Aspects of the Historical Harp: Utrecht 1992

R. Evans: ‘A Copy of the Downhill Harp’, GSJ, l (1997), 119–26

J. Rimmer: ‘Harp Function in Irish Eulogy and Complaint’, GSJ, l (1997), 109–18

JOAN RIMMER

Irish harp (ii).

Since 1819 the term Irish harp has been applied to various small, lightly built, gut-strung harps used in solo and ensemble performances of Irish and other Celtic-derived music. These have curved forepillars but otherwise little in common with the older forms (see Harp, §V, 3(i)).

JOAN RIMMER

Irish Music Rights Organisation [IMRO].

See Copyright, §VI (under Ireland).

Irish National Opera.

See Dublin, §3.

Irish whistle.

See Tin whistle.

Irízar y Domenzain, Miguel de

(b Artajona, Navarra, bap. 18 Sept 1635; d Aug 1684). Spanish composer and music director. He trained as a choirboy at León Cathedral and, from 1650, at Toledo Cathedral, in both places as a pupil of the elder Tomás Miciezes. His professional career began in 1657 when he was appointed maestro de capilla of the cathedrals of Oviedo and S Domingo de la Calzada, and in August 1657 he was made maestro de capilla of the collegiate church of Vitoria. He applied for similar posts at Orense Cathedral (1664), the collegiate church of Roncesvalles (1666) and elsewhere, but stayed at Vitoria until 1671, when he obtained the position of music director at Segovia Cathedral, where he remained until his death.

Irízar left to the cathedral numerous autograph manuscripts of his own works (masses, psalms, lamentations, motets and villancicos) as well as copies of works by other important Spanish musicians of the time (Miciezes, Carlos Patiño, Cristóbal Galán and Juan Hidalgo among others). Some of these were copied on the reverse side of more than 400 personal letters he received between 1664 and 1684. This correspondence is of incalculable value to an understanding of how music and musicians circulated in the Iberian peninsula, and it allows us to reconstruct the personal contacts of a 17th-century Spanish maestro de capilla. As well as members of his family, his correspondents included other maestros, organists, cantors and copyists, from Avila, Córdoba, Madrid, Palencia, Pamplona, Toledo and elsewhere.

Irízar's works are exclusively sacred and show clearly the influence of his various epistolary contacts, especially the musicians of the Madrid royal chapels. In fact, adaptations of works, both sacred and secular, by composers active in Madrid at that time (Juan Hidalgo, Cristóbal Galán and Matías Ruiz) exist among his compositions. His music is predominantly polychoral, for two or three vocal choirs (he scarcely used instrumental choirs), and usually treats the voices homophonically, especially in the villancicos.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

J. López Calo: ‘Corresponsales de Miguel de Irízar (I)’, AnM, xviii (1963), 197

J. López Calo: ‘Corresponsales de Miguel de Irízar (II)’, AnM, xx (1965), 209

J. López Calo: ‘Las misas policorales de Miguel de Irízar’, Principe de viana, xlvi (1985), 297–313

J. López Calo: ‘Los villancicos policorales de Miguel de Irízar’, Inter-American Music Review, x/2 (1988–9), 27–48

C. Villanueva Abelairas: ‘Los villancicos en gallego de Miguel de Irízar’, De musica hispanica et aliis: miscelánea en honor al Prof. Dr José López-Calo, S.J., en su 65 cumpleaños, ed. E. Casares (Santiago de Compostela, 1990), 697–725

M. Olarte Martínez: Miguel de Irízar y Domenzain (1635–1684?): biografía, epistolario y estudios de sus lamentaciones (thesis, U. of Valladolid, 1992)

P.-L. Rodríguez: ‘“Solo Madrid es Corte”: villancicos de las capilla reales de Carlos II en la catedral de Segovia’, Artigrama, xii (1996–7), 237

PABLO L. RODRÍGUEZ

Irman, Regina

(b Winterthur, 22 March 1957). Swiss composer, guitarist and percussionist. After gaining her teaching diploma in guitar (1982) at the Winterthur Conservatory, she chose to concentrate on percussion (diploma 1995). During this period she began to write her own music. As composition progressively became her main concern, she acquired a reputation that extended beyond both regional borders and her interest in the women's movement. She has often found inspiration for her works in poetry, particularly that of Anna Akhmatova, interpreting texts through musical parameters without necessarily bringing the words themselves to the fore. Ein vatter-ländischer Liederbogen is a particularly successful example of her approach to the sometimes abstruse writing of Adolf Wölfli. She has also composed with micro-tonal intervals. She has received commissions from the Basle International Festival of Recorder Music and the city of Zürich, among others, and in 1991 co-founded mikro, a composers' self-publishing collective.

WORKS

(selective list)

Incid music: Heimweh macht unfruchtbar, perc, 1995–6

Vocal: In Darkness Let Me Dwell, Mez, ob, vn, va, vc, 1982 [based on J. Dowland lute song]; Ein vatter-ländischer Liederbogen (A. Wölfli), Mez, prep pf, 1985–6; Ein Trauermarsch (Wölfli), spkr, 3 perc, 1987; Tabellen (Wölfli), 3 spkrs, 3 perc/tape, 1991; Requiem (A. Akhmatova: An den Tod), 25 female vv, 3 or more male vv, 1991–3; Maskerade, 8 pieces, chorus, 1993; Wie eine Heuschrecke über die Meere … (after M. Oppenheim), chorus, tape, 1995–6; 5 Sprach-Klang-Objekte (S. Sekula), Sprechstimme, perc, 1996; 3 Tänze (Akhmatova), S, cl, pf/Sprechstimme, accdn, 1996–7

Inst: Hügel bei Céret, (2 va, db)/any 3 str, 1983; Speculum, 4 E-cl, 2 perc, 1984; Mélodie, quarter-tone gui/any melody inst, 1985; Drive, quarter-tone gui, 1987; Schwarzes Glück, prep pf, 1988–9 [incl. poem by H. Arp]; Passacagliae, cl, 1989–90; Schwarzes Glück 2, 4 perc, 1990; Spiegeltanz, 2 sopranino rec, 2 timp, 1993, collab. D. Jordi; Wörter, sax ens, perc, 1994–5; Fächer, pf 4 hands, 1996; Tisch mit Vogelfüssen, tape, 1996 [after an object by M. Oppenheim]; Sculptures (for Bruce Nauman), quarter-tone va da gamba qt, 1997

Other: Vögel, 4 people with CD players, tape, writer, ornithologist, 1996

JEAN-PIERRE AMANN

Iron Maiden.

English heavy metal band. Formed in 1975 by Steve Harris (b Leytonstone, London, 12 March 1956; bass and vocals), their most successful line-up included David Murray (b London, 23 Dec 1955; guitar), Adrian Smith (b Hackney, London, 27 Feb 1957; guitar), Nicko McBrain (b Hackney, 5 June 1952; drums) and Bruce Dickinson (b Worksop, Nottingshire, 7 Aug 1958; vocals, 1981–93). Smith was replaced by Janick Gers (b Hartlepool, 27 Jan 1957) in 1990, and Dickinson, who had taken over from the vocalist Paul Di'Anno (b Chingford, London, 17 May 1959), was replaced in turn in 1994 by Blaze Bayley (Bayley Cook; b Birmingham, 19 May 1963). Dickenson and Smith rejoined the band in 1999, displacing Bayley. One of the most influential groups in heavy metal, it adapted harmonized guitar lines, fast tempos and high-pitched vocals from the style of Judas Priest, adding more complex song forms, more elaborate stage shows, and lyrical situations and themes derived from classical mythology and literary sources such as Poe, Coleridge, Tennyson and Shakespeare. Many of their songs featured riffs based on a repeated quaver-semiquaver-semiquaver rhythm, which became something of a signature device. Dickinson's powerful, almost operatically-styled voice and his on-stage athleticism also made them distinctive. Like most heavy metal bands, they received little radio airplay and built their audiences through constant touring. Their album The Number of the Beast (EMI, 1982) established them as stars within the world of heavy metal fandom. Iron Maiden's lyrics often examine experiences of power, paranoia and conflict. They are noted for their bricolage of mystical symbols and references from many traditions, which are brought together as sources of power and spiritual depth in the present, and for their gruesome corpse-like mascot, Eddie. (M. Wall: Run to the Hills: the Official Biography of Iron Maiden, London, 1998)

ROBERT WALSER

Irshai, Yevgeny Markovich

(b Leningrad [now St Petersburg], 15 January 1951). Russian composer. He came from a family of musicians, and graduated from the Leningrad Conservatory in 1975, having studied composition with A.A. Chernov and V.A. Uspensky, and later the piano with P.A. Serebryakov (1978), then following a dual career as a composer and performer. From 1971 to 1991 he worked in a music school as a teacher of piano and composition, after which he moved to Slovakia. There he worked as an accompanist at the theatre of opera and ballet in Banská Bystrica (1991–2), and since 1992 he has taught composition and piano at the Ján Levoslav Bella Conservatory and at Matej Bel University. Irshai became a member of the Russian Union of Composers in 1979, and since 1993 has been a member of the Association of Slovak Composers and the Slovak Music Union. In 1994 Irshai returned to his career as a concert pianist, giving recitals throughout Europe (Hungary, Poland and Italy). A gifted writer, Irshai is also the author of short stories and essays.

Choral, vocal and chamber works predominate in Irshai’s output: he has also written a significant number of pieces and songs for children (mainly settings of poems by Samuil Marshak). By nature a lyricist, he frequently turns to philosophical and ethical matters; his interest in classical Russian poetry stems from such concerns. Irshai has shown interest in original forms of settings of the mass as exemplified by his Pominoveniye (Prayer for the Dead) set to texts from the Jewish kaddish, the Catholic ‘Lacrimosa’, and the poems of M. Tsikinovsky.

Irshai has characterized his musical style as ‘late post-conservatism’. The array of expressive means which he uses in his works is typical of the Leningrad/St Petersburg school, perpetuating the traditions of Shostakovich. Although he makes economical use of techniques developed by the 20th-century avant garde, Irshai remains within the confines of late Romanticism.

WORKS

(selective list)

Ballet: Don-Zhuan ili lyubov' k geometrii [Don Juan, or a Love for Geometry] (1), St Petersburg, Malïy, 1973

Choral: Letniy sad [The Summer Garden] (conc.), 1980; Detki v kletke [Little Children in a Cage] (S. Marshak), 3 choruses, 1982; Nochnoy razgovor [A Night-Time Conversation] (diptych, R. Burns, trans. Marshak), 1984; Zemnïm poklonom [With a Bow to the Earth] (conc.), 1984; Ėpigrafï (cant., A. Tarkovsky), 1985; Laskovïye snï [Dreams that Caress You] (triptych, Russ. poems), 1986–7; Sredi mirov [Amid the Worlds] (cant., Russ. poems), 1987; Pomiluy mya, Gospodi [O Lord, have Mercy upon Me] (prayer), 1990

Vocal: 4 romansa (A. Blok), 1972; Teorii (F. García Lorca), song cycle, Mez, pf, 1978; Silentium (F. Tyutchev), song cycle, B, pf, 1979; K drugu [To My Friend] (A. Tolstoy), song cycle, Bar, pf, 1980; Vsyo s ėtim gorodom navek [With this City for Ever] (5 romances, M. Dudin), T, orch, 1981; Chudesttvo [Miraculousness] (M. Yasnov), 8 songs, 1986; Govori [Speak] (I. Annensky, Blok, A. Bely), song cycle, Mez, vc, 1988; Nastanet den' [The Day Will Come] (Russ. poems), song cycle, S, pf, 1988; Pominoveniye [Prayer for the Dead] (mass, Kaddish, Lacrimosa, M. Tsikinovsky), S, Bar, nar, vc, db, bells, 1989; Menuėt na ostrove [A Minuet on an Island] (N. Khostyovetska), 1v, kbd, applause, 1994; Die Tage wollen länger werden (J. Bachmann), Mez, pf, small bell, 1996; V veselom korolevstve [In the Merry Kingdom] (Eng. poems, trans. Marshak), song cycle

Inst: Improvizatsii Kandinskogo [Improvisations of Kandinsky], sonata, bn, db, 1978; Sonata-proshchaniye [Sonata of Farewell], vc, pf, 1985; Dorozhnaya simfoniya [A Travelling Sym.], sonata, hn, pf, 1986; Variations, vc, 1987; O, Tekila, vc ens, pf, 1988; Sonata, vc, perc, 1988; Bn Conc., 1990; Gospodi, vozzvakh [O Lord, I have Called unto Thee], str qt, 1990; Improvisation, str orch, 1993; Iskhod [Exodus], sonata, pf, tam-tams, 1996; Qnt, str qt, pf, small bells, 1996

Pf: Variations, 1968; Children’s pieces, 1979–86; 7 otrazheniy v do [7 Reflections in C], sonata, 1982; Kto na chem yedet [Who Rides on What] (K. Chukovsky: Tarakanishche [The Cockroach]), suite, 1987

MSS in SQ-Mms

Principal publishers: Kompozitor, Akvamarin Verlag

WRITINGS

‘Nostal'gicheskiy etyud’ [A nostalgic study], MAk (1996), nos.3–4, pp.17–19

MARINA MOISEYEVNA MAZUR

Iruarrízaga (Aguirre), Luis

(b Yurre, Vizcaya, 25 Aug 1891; d Madrid, 13 April 1928). Spanish composer. He studied music in Yurre and in 1907 entered the congregation of the Hijos del Corazón de María in Madrid, where he continued his musical education while training for the priesthood. Essentially, however, he was self-taught in music. In 1916 he was appointed organist of the Santuario del Corazón de María, Madrid, a post he retained until his death. He was greatly interested in plainsong, and he visited the Benedictine monasteries at S Domingo de Silos, Solesmes and elsewhere in order to learn about proper performing practice. In addition, he made extensive studies of 16th-century polyphony and of the composers of the German Cecilian movement, particularly Haller. In 1917 he founded the journal Tesoro musical (renamed Tesoro sacro musical in 1925), in which he published many of his own compositions, works by contemporary Spanish composers, early music, musicological studies and articles on topical matters.

Iruarrízaga's compositions are all religious and have been published in a three-volume complete edition (Madrid, 1944–9, 4/1964). They show an original style which has had many imitators. Simple melody is the basis, noble, beautiful and closely adapted to the text; the harmony is rich and up-to-date, but fundamentally consonant. He composed freely for solo voice and for chorus (usually in only two parts, but sometimes in three or four), with organ, harmonium or piano accompaniment.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

TSM, xiii (1929), 25–88 [incl. catalogue of works]

J.G. Ferrero: Luis Iruarrízaga Aguirre (Bilbao, 1977)

JOSÉ LÓPEZ-CALO

Irving, Washington

(b New York, 3 April 1783; d New York, 28 Nov 1859). American writer. His experiences in Europe, first as a traveller (1804–6) and subsequently as a resident (1812–29) and diplomat (England, 1829–32; Spain, 1842–6), gave him a wealth of colourful material for his published collections of stories, verse, sentimental tales, history and folklore. He is perhaps most closely associated with the characters Ichabod Crane from ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’ and Rip Van Winkle, a deft appropriation of an ancient German folktale, both of which first appeared in Irving’s The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon.

Irving was a flute player of some ability and an enthusiastic opera, concert and theatre goer. He heard more than 130 operas in Europe and was present at a performance of Fidelio in the Kärntnertortheater in Vienna on 23 May 1814.

Bristow’s Rip Van Winkle, produced in New York in 1855, is regarded as the first American grand opera on an American subject; De Koven’s setting of 1920 and Edward Manning’s of 1932 are among the later operatic versions, and there is an early overture on the subject by Chadwick. ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’ has also received several operatic treatments, one of the more interesting being that by Douglas S. Moore as The Headless Horseman, for which Stephen Vincent Benét provided a one-act libretto satirizing progressive education. Several composers have set stories from Irving’s The Alhambra, and Dudley Buck composed a cantata on six scenes from A History of the Life and Voyages of Christopher Columbus.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

G.R. Price: ‘Washington Irving’s Librettos’, ML, xxix (1948), 348–55

P.R. Kirby: ‘Washington Irving, Barhum Livius and Weber’, ML, xxxi (1950), 133–47

H.E. Johnson: Operas on American Subjects (New York, 1964)

JOHN McLAUGHLIN/MICHAEL HOVLAND

Isaac [Isaack], Mr

(fl London, 1675–1718; d by 1728). English dancing-master and choreographer. Little is known about his life; he may have been confused with an earlier dancing-master in Paris, also named Isaac. In 1675 Mr Isaac danced in John Crowne and Nicholas Staggins's masque Calisto in Whitehall, London, and subsequently retained his connections with the English royal court. He was much sought after as a dancing-master (his pupils included the princesses Mary and Anne) and was respected by fellow dancing-masters as a mentor and patron. 22 of his dances survive in Beauchamp-Feuillet notation: 19 were published from 1706 onwards and reissued, with music by James Paisible, to celebrate Queen Anne's birthdays; one was published by Edmund Pemberton in 1711; two were published as New Year dances (1715, 1716) for George I. His Collection of Ball Dances Performed at Court (London, 1706) was commissioned to illustrate the Beauchamp-Feuillet notation system. Despite later claims by John Walsh, only one of them, ‘The Marlborough’, is known genuinely to have been a birthday dance for Queen Anne (1705). The other five are older, perhaps dating back to the 1680s or 1690s. Some of Isaac's dances were performed on stage. The notations reveal sophisticated use of rhythms, phrasing, floor patterns and step vocabulary. According to Musgrave, Isaac died in 1740; he may, however, have retired or died soon after 1718, and in 1728 he was described by Essex as ‘the late Mr Isaac’ (preface to The Dancing Master, London, 1728).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

G.J. Armytage, ed.: Obituary Prior to 1800 (as Far as Relates to England, Scotland and Ireland) Compiled by Sir William Musgrave, iii, Publications of the Harleian Society, xlvi (London, 1900), 302

C. Marsh: French Court Dance in England 1706–1740: a Study of the Sources (diss., CUNY, 1985)

R. Ralph: The Life and Works of John Weaver (London, 1985) [with facs. of some of Isaac's dances, incl. the Collection of Ball Dances Performed at Court (London, 1706)]

M. Goff: ‘Edmund Pemberton, Dancing-Master and Publisher’, Dance Research, xi/1 (1993), 52–81

J. Thorp: ‘John Walsh, Entrepreneur or Poacher: the Publication of Dance Notations 1706–c.1730’, Handbook for Studies in Eighteenth-Century Music, ed. M. Burden and I. Cholij, vii (Oxford, 1996), 1–27

JENNIFER THORP

Isaac [Lelong], Adèle

(b Calais, 8 Jan 1854; d Paris, 22 Oct 1915). French soprano. She studied with Gilbert Duprez in Paris, making her début in 1870 at the Théâtre Montmartre in Massé’s Les noces de Jeannette. In 1873 she first sang at the Opéra-Comique, as Marie (La fille du régiment). She also sang Gounod’s Juliet and Mozart’s Susanna, and in 1881 created Olympia and Antonia in Les contes d’Hoffmann. From 1883 to 1885 she was engaged at the Opéra, where her roles included Ophelia (Hamlet), Marguerite (Faust), Adèle (Le comte Ory), Zerlina, Marguerite de Valois (Les Huguenots), Isabelle (Robert le diable), Thomas’ Francesca da Rimini and Mathilde (Guillaume Tell). In 1887 she created Minka in Chabrier’s Le roi malgré lui at the Opéra-Comique. She retired in 1894. Her brilliant, flexible voice was especially suited to Mozart.

ELIZABETH FORBES

Isaac, Bartholomew.

See Isaack, Bartholomew.

Isaac [Ysaak, Ysac, Yzac], Henricus [Heinrich; Arrigo d’Ugo; Arrigo Tedesco]

(b Flanders or Brabant, c1450–55; d Florence, 26 March 1517). South Netherlandish composer. The Latin name-form ‘Henricus’, adopted here, is found in many documents and musical sources. Isaac was a prominent member of a group of Franco-Flemish musicians, including Josquin des Prez, Jacob Obrecht, Pierre de La Rue, Alexander Agricola and others, who achieved international fame in the decades around 1500, influencing the Italian and European Renaissance. His musical output is particularly large and varied. Through his notable link with the Habsburg dynasty he left his mark on German musical traditions, although he also lived and worked for a considerable time in Florence.

1. Life.

2. Works.

WORKS

REINHARD STROHM (1, 2(i–ii, iv), 3), EMMA KEMPSON (2(iii))

1. Life.

The composer’s father was named Hugo, but he cannot be identified with the Hugo Ysaac who was registered for the MA degree at Oxford University during the period 1451–3 and whose later ecclesiastical career in England is known. Isaac’s precise birthplace is unknown. In authentic documents, he styled himself ‘de Flandria’; Aegidius Tschudi called him ‘Belga Brabanti[n]us’.He might have come from the border area between the counties of Flanders (containing Ghent, Bruges and Ypres) and Brabant (with Brussels and Antwerp); but ‘Brabant’ or ‘Flanders’ often simply refer to the Flemish-speaking part of the southern Netherlands. In Italy, persons from that region were often called ‘Tedesco’ or ‘de Alemania’ (both meaning ‘German’), as Isaac was as well. His date of birth is usually estimated as about 1450 or a little later; a document of 1514 refers to him as ‘old’.

Nothing is known of Isaac’s social background and youth. His general education seems to have been excellent, although he was a layman and apparently did not attend a university. He was an accomplished composer by the mid-1470s, when three motets by him were copied into an Innsbruck manuscript. The earliest known biographical document dates from 15 September 1484, recording a casual payment to him as ‘Componist’ at the court of Duke Sigismund of Austria at Innsbruck. This is perhaps connected with Sigismund's wedding to Katherine of Saxony in February 1484; the payment was made to Isaac by the organizer of the festivities, the humanist Hans Fuchsmagen. Isaac may earlier have come to the notice of Sigismund’s cousin Maximilian (later king of the Romans and Emperor), who visited the Low Countries in 1477 on the occasion of his marriage to Mary of Burgundy.

By July 1485, Isaac was employed as one of the singers at the baptistry of S Giovanni in Florence, who also served Florence Cathedral and SS Annunziata (the Servite friary). A letter of 1514 states that the Medici family ‘had sent for him as far as Flanders’. At that time Flemish musicians were regularly recruited by Italian patrons (for example, Piero de' Medici recruited in the southern Netherlands in 1468). It is possible, but unlikely, that Isaac first left the southern Netherlands as late as 1484. Lorenzo de' Medici (1449–92); ‘il Magnifico’, did not employ a formal chapel of singers, but Isaac belonged to his domestic circle of artists and musicians. He was expected to set songs by Lorenzo and his favourite poet Angelo Poliziano and to contribute generally to the musical life of the Medici household and the city. He may have taught music to Lorenzo's sons Piero and Giovanni (from 1513 Pope Leo X), who became his patrons. Lorenzo supported Isaac in various ways, for example by sending a manuscript of his music to Girolamo Donato, the Venetian ambassador in Rome; and a sumptuous chansonnier in which Isaac's works are prominently displayed (I-Fn B.R.229) seems to have been prepared under Medici patronage and originally intended for a foreign ruler, probably either King Matthias Corvinus of Hungary or Duke Sigismund of Austria. Isaac was in close contact with other Florentine musicians such as Bartolomeo degli Organi and Alessandro Coppini. He was a member of the confraternity of S Barbara at SS Annunziata, traditionally called ‘dei Fiamminghi’ on account of its many Northern members. Florentine documents (and later Austrian ones) often refer to Isaac as ‘composer’, sometimes as ‘magister’ or ‘professor musices’. But he was not employed as an organist; documents concerning Lorenzo’s organist Isaac Argyropoulos have been mistakenly referred to Henricus Isaac.

Lorenzo is said to have arranged Isaac's marriage (before 1490) to Bartolomea Bello (1464–1534), the daughter of a Florentine artisan. The couple lived in their own house in Florence, but later travelled together to Vienna and Konstanz. Although Isaac made three separate wills (all at SS Annunziata, where he wished to be buried), no children are ever mentioned; his wife seems to have been his sole surviving heir. A sister of Bartolomea married (c1492) the French musician Charles de Launoy (c1460–1506). Isaac composed Quis dabit capiti meo aquam? (to a poem by Poliziano), and possibly also the Missa ‘Salva nos’, on the occasion of Lorenzo de’ Medici’s death on 8 April 1492. In September of that year, Lorenzo’s son Piero took Isaac and his fellow musicians Charles de Launoy and Pietrequin Bonnel to Rome for the coronation of Pope Alexander VI. But the singers of S Giovanni were disbanded in March 1493, and in November 1494 Isaac’s Medici patrons were banished from Florence.

By November 1496 Isaac had found new employment with Maximilian I, king of the Romans. His appointment as court composer to Maximilian’s newly established chapel in Vienna was confirmed on 3 April 1497. In the following years, he travelled with the chapel to Augsburg, Wels, Innsbruck and Nuremberg. When in 1497–8 Frederick the Wise, Elector of Saxony, visited the Tyrol with members of his chapel, Isaac received a gift of clothing (indicationg that he served him), but he did not travel to Saxony in Frederick’s service. Another important patron was Cardinal Matthäus Lang of Augsburg. Isaac’s students included Adam Rener, Balthasar Resinarius, Ludwig Senfl and Petrus Tritonius, and he surely collaborated with the chapel organist Paul Hofhaimer, who had already served at the Innsbruck court since 1478.

Isaac was in Florence in August 1502 and some weeks later at the Este court of Ferrara, where he hoped to be employed. Josquin des Prez was chosen instead, although the court agent Gian d’Artiganova reported (2 September 1502) favourably about Isaac who ‘would compose whenever asked’ and not as he pleased like Josquin. Isaac was apparently again in Maximilian’s retinue in the Tyrol in 1503, and he was with him at the Imperial diet at Konstanz in 1507, when he composed the occasional motets Sancti Spiritus and the six-voice Virgo prudentissima. Isaac stayed in Konstanz, perhaps with interruptions, from early 1505 until at least 14 April 1508, when the cathedral chapter decided to commission the Choralis Constantinus from him.

After 1506 Isaac joined the lay fraternity of the abbey of Neustift (Novacella) near Brixen (Bressanone) in the Tyrol. In 1510 Maximilian provided him with a benefice near Verona. Isaac was in Innsbruck in 1514, but in 1515 was allowed to live permanently in Florence while continuing to receive his salary, probably for compositions including parts I and III of the Choralis Constantinus and for diplomatic activities. The Medici family, restored to power in 1512, also favoured him. His motet Optime divino celebrates a visit of Cardinal Matthäus Lang to Pope Leo in December 1513. Following recommendations by Medici agents and the papal administration, he was appointed provost of the chapter of Florence Cathedral – a sinecure – in May 1514. He thanked the Pope for his patronage with the motet Quid retribuam tibi, O Leo. By December 1516 Isaac had become ill and made his third will; he died in Florence on 26 March 1517.

In the woodcut series ‘The Triumph of Emperor Maximilian’ (Triumphzug; 1516 and later), Hans Burgkmair portrayed the Imperial chapel performing on a carriage. A person wearing a laurel wreath, standing next to the rector cappellae Georg Slatkonia, was identified in a contemporaneous copy as ‘Ysaac’. Although the identification has been challenged, this may be a portrait of the ageing composer drawn from life.

(i) The Ordinary of the Mass.

2. Works.

(ii) The Proper of the Mass.

(iii) Motets.

(iv) Songs.

(i) The Ordinary of the Mass.

Isaac wrote 36 mass cycles that are known to survive today, as well as a handful that seem to have been lost. He also composed 13 independent settings of the Credo. His 16 masses based on borrowed melodies are comparable in number, quality and variety to those of Josquin, Obrecht or Agricola, but unlike them he composed at least 20 further cycles based on the corresponding plainchant of the Ordinary of the Mass, all but one of these for alternatim performance. Together with his cycles for the Proper of the Mass, Isaac’s music for the Ordinary was his most characteristic and influential contribution to the music of his time.

Isaac’s masses on borrowed melodies are difficult to date or localize. Source transmission and some slight documentary evidence suggest that eleven cycles had been composed by about 1492: ‘Argentum et aurum’, ‘Chargé de deul’, ‘Comme femme’, ‘Een vrolic wesen’, ‘Et trop penser’, the lost ‘J’ay pris amours’, ‘La Spagna’, ‘Quant j’ay au cueur’, ‘Salva nos’, ‘Une musque de Biscaye’ and the four-voice Missa ‘Comment poit avoir joie’. Four or five others may belong to the following decade: the six-voice Missa ‘Wolauff Gesell’ (after c1496), the Missa carminum (after c1496), ‘Virgo prudentissima’ (possibly performed 1503) and possibly ‘T’meiskin was jonck’. The mass ‘La mi la sol’ is based on a motet composed in 1502. The Missa ‘Misericordias Domini’ is also late, but it appeared in the company of four early masses in Petrucci’s Misse Henrici Yzac (1506).

Seven of Isaac’s masses are based on polyphonic chansons from the Franco-Flemish tradition: the rondeaux Comme femme (Binchois), Quant j’ay au cueur (Busnoys) and Een vrolic wesen (Barbireau), the virelais Chargé de deul (anon.) and Et trop penser (Bosfrin ?= Josquin) and the Dutch song T’meiskin was jonck (Obrecht). A mass by Isaac, now lost, on the well-known rondeau J’ay pris amours (anon., ?by Caron) was mentioned in 1490. Monophonic secular tunes include the internationally known basse danse La Spagna, the chanson rustique Une musque de Biscaye (this bears no relation to Josquin’s canonic song setting or to his mass on the same tune) and the popularizing song Comment peut avoir joie. The last also carried the German words Wohlauf Gesell, von hinnen; Isaac’s four-voice mass setting existed before 1490 and probably implies the French text, but the six-voice mass has the German title in its unique source, an Innsbruck manuscript (D-Mbs Mus.ms.3154). The Missa carminum strings together a number of German popular songs in the manner of Obrecht’s and Pipelare’s Missae carminum on French and Dutch chansons and an older Austrian tradition of Liedermessen.

Isaac used multiple sacred cantus firmi (a technique familiar in the Low Countries and in Germany) in the Missa ‘Salva nos’, which is chiefly based on an antiphon but also quotes several short invocations from the chants of the Mass. Three sections (the second Kyrie, ‘Cum Sancto Spiritu’, the second ‘Osanna’), based on the plainchant phrase ‘et requiescamus in pace’, were incorporated into Isaac’s motet Quis dabit capiti meo aquam? on the death of Lorenzo de’ Medici; probably both the mass and the motet were intended for the funeral ceremonies. A mass for the Assumption of the Virgin Mary was performed at Innsbruck on 26 September 1503 in a meeting of the Imperial and Burgundian chapels; this may have been Isaac’s six-voice Missa ‘Virgo prudentissima’, which is given the rubric ‘de assumptione beate marie virginis’ in a Burgundian choirbook (B-Br 6428). Isaac’s mass is related neither to his own four- and six-voice motets nor to Josquin's similarly titled O Virgo prudentissima (on a poem by Poliziano). Likewise, Isaac’s mass ‘Argentum et aurum’ shares only its cantus firmus with his motet, probably composed earlier. Staehelin (1977) identified a musical antecedent for the Missa ‘Misericordias Domini’ in the anonymous frottola In focho, in focho la mia vita passa, suggesting that Isaac’s intermediate model was a lost motet by Mouton, based on the frottola. The only demonstrable case in which Isaac elaborated one of his own shorter works into a mass is the Missa ‘La mi la sol’, based on his ‘motet’ composed in Ferrara in 1502.

Isaac employed all the formal and technical devices for which the Franco-Flemish mass composers of his generation are celebrated. Manipulation of the cantus firmus is rare: retrograde occurs in the second ‘Osanna’ of ‘Argentum et aurum’ and in the ‘Et incarnatus’ of ‘T’meiskin was jonck’; a notable example of mensural artifice is seen at the beginning of ‘Argentum et aurum’, where all the voices sing the same melody at different levels of duration in exclusively dotted notes. Isaac used canon less frequently than Josquin (see the masses ‘Comme femme’, ‘Comment poit avoir joie’ and elsewhere), but he often conducted the cantus firmus in canon. ‘Parody’ (borrowing several voices simultaneously from a polyphonic model), paraphrase, migration of the cantus firmus between the voices and ostinato are frequently found. Isaac avoided large-scale constructive devices, but achieved coherence through modal unity and the pervasive use of borrowed material. The texture of his counterpoint varies greatly: imitative writing in three or four voices predominates, but may be coordinated with ostinato or, very often, a ‘pedal-point’ texture with the cantus firmus in long notes. A simple chordal declamation or rapid parlando is occasionally found in the early masses, but on the whole there is more syllabic word-setting in the later works. Like Obrecht, Isaac favoured repetitive and sequential passages, which might result in static harmonies when the motivic substance is triadic as in the masses ‘Comment poit avoir joie’, ‘Argentum et aurum’, ‘Et trop penser’. The textures of the last two are playfully ornamented and patterned; many sections resemble textless ‘instrumental’ fantasias. In the Missa ‘La mi la sol’ an eight-note ostinato is treated with great melodic versatility and modal coherence.

Isaac’s masses, to a significantly greater extent than those of Josquin or Obrecht, were used as quarries for secular music-making. Three-voice sections in particular circulated widely, sometimes appearing with their original titles (e.g. the ‘Benedictus’ from Missa ‘Quant j’ay au cueur’ or the Christe from ‘Chargé de deul’), sometimes with new words or with no words at all. Isaac may have deliberately encouraged secular use of these mass sections by composing them in a style resembling that of the chanson. The song settings T’meiskin was jonck and Een vrolic wesen were mistakenly ascribed to Isaac, apparently because he wrote masses based on them, while one of his settings of Fortuna desperata was labelled ‘Sanctus’ as if it had been extracted from a mass on that tune. In the Missa ‘La Spagna’, the three-voice second Agnus Dei gives the borrowed melody complete in the bassus, all in perfect longs; a separate copy in an early Italian source has been regarded as the model for the mass, though such a strict technique would be atypical for a self-contained composition. Some masses employed an extremely simple mode of recomposition: the six-voice Missa ‘Wolauff Gesell’ largely re-uses the counterpoint of the four-voice Missa ‘Comment poit avoir joie’ on the same tune, and the ‘motet’ La mi la sol is incorporated en bloc into the Credo of the mass of that name.

During his Habsburg service from 1496, Isaac contributed largely to the genre of mass cycles based on the corresponding chants of the Ordinary of the Mass, composed for particular categories of feasts such as apostles, the Virgin Mary and so on. Most of the plainsong melodies used by Isaac are found in the printed Graduale pataviense (Vienna, 1511), a source approximating the usage of the Imperial chapel (see §2(ii) below). Although individual mass sections based on the chant of the Ordinary were as common in central Europe around 1450–90 as they had been in England and France somewhat earlier, few composers before 1500 wrote complete cycles (Martini, Missae dominicalis and ferialis; Urrede (Wreede), Missa de Beata Virgine; La Rue, Missae de Beata Virgine, ferialis, paschalis and pro defunctis; Agricola, Missa paschalis on ‘German’ chants). With at least 20 cyclic settings, Isaac monumentalized a regional tradition formerly with little prestige and elaborated it in the most modern styles.

Except for the Missa ferialis, all Isaac’s plainchant masses were designed for alternatim performance: alternate verses were composed in vocal polyphony, leaving the others to be chanted or played on the organ. In one source Isaac’s works are called ‘Missae ad organum’, and there is evidence that alternation between vocal polyphony and organ versets was the Imperial chapel’s practice (see Mahrt), which Maximilian may have brought from Flanders. It appears that six-voice alternatim masses were among the first works Isaac composed for Maximilian’s chapel. A chapel choirbook copied about 1510 (D-Mbs 31) preserves the six-voice Missae solemnis, de Beata Virgine and de apostolis together with the six-voice cantus-firmus mass ‘Virgo prudentissima’. A six-voice alternatim Missa paschalis, in a somewhat different and possibly earlier style, occurs in Netherlandish and central-German sources. Isaac also composed five-voice cycles for the same four feasts as well as for martyrs, confessors and virgins. These seven masses survive uniquely in an important choirbook of the Bavarian ducal chapel (D-Mbs 3), copied by Ludwig Senfl from Imperial exemplars. A further five-voice Missa de Beata Virgine is independent from the others; its plainchants for the Kyrie and Gloria are found only in graduals from Augsburg and Basle.

Isaac composed four-voice alternatim Missae solemnis, paschalis, de Beata Virgine, de apostolis, de martyribus and de confessoribus; probably all later works. Together with the through-composed Missa ferialis, they appear as a set in several sources. These works could be used by smaller choirs for many ritual occasions and circulated much more widely than the five- and six-voice cycles. Five of the four-voice masses (all but the Missae de Beata Virgine and ferialis) were printed in the third volume of the Choralis Constantinus (1555), with an additional alternatim Credo for all but the Missa de confessoribus. A distinct alternatim Missa paschalis ad organum is scored for lower ranges and may have served a special purpose. A doubtful four-voice Missa de Beata Virgine incorporates material from the authentic six-voice cycle, but its Sanctus and Agnus Dei are probably by a different hand. Isaac also composed a three-voice Missa de Beata Virgine, but it is doubtful whether the existing work is by him or Senfl.

A Bavarian chapel manuscript (D-Mbs 53) presents 13 four-voice plainchant-based Credos by Isaac, which complement the four-voice alternatim masses. Their style is often surprisingly simple, perhaps reflecting popular appreciation of the chants. Only the twelfth of these Credos is an early work (?c1480-90), based on a number of borrowed chants all connected with feasts of the clergy and Eastertide processions.

Isaac’s alternatim mass settings display a vast musical panorama of Mass plainchant. All the cantus-firmus procedures of the time are present, although paraphrase, migration, transposition and ornamentation predominate over scaffolding or canon techniques. The chant melody often appears in imitation between two voices, especially in the six-voice works. The modes, ranges and melodic styles of the plainchant influence the polyphonic settings and their degree of musical unity. Skilful organ versets based on the alternate verses would have highlighted Isaac’s own contribution. The forms of his alternatim masses are episodic and narrative – sometimes epigrammatical in the shorter verses – rather than architectural.

(ii) The Proper of the Mass.

Polyphonic settings of the Proper of the Mass stand at the very beginning of Western music-writing (Musica enchiriadis) and are among the earliest compositions in fixed rhythm (Notre-Dame organa). It is probable, however, that in most churches such items were sung in improvised counterpoint. Some repertories seem to have been completely lost, such as the Mass Propers in ‘discant’ prescribed for the Ste Chapelle of Bourges in 1405. But hundreds of 15th-century Proper settings survive, either in isolation (mostly introits and sequences) or in cycles combining some selection among introit, gradual, alleluia, sequence, tract, offertory and communion. In some cases such Proper cycles were combined with polyphonic Ordinary cycles to form ‘plenary cycles’ or Missae plenae, such as those of Reginaldus Libert or Du Fay. By the late 1430s the Habsburg chapels were receiving many such settings from Western Europe, and individual items and cycles began to appear increasingly in Central European sources like Trent MS 88 (I-TRmp, c1460), which contains three-voice Proper cycles for weekly votive Masses and high feasts, some by Du Fay but others of Austrian and Italian origin. The Imperial chapel under Friedrich III (d 1493) probably used polyphonic introits and sequences regularly.

Isaac wrote settings of the Proper well before 1508: for example, his four-voice sequence Sanctissimae Virginis survives in an autograph datable about 1500 (D-Bsb 40021). 11 introits and two sequences for six voices, appropriate to the highest feast-days of the Imperial ritual, probably originated alongside the six-voice alternatim masses and may have been intended for Imperial ceremonial occasions around 1503–8. Other individual settings seem to have been composed for Augsburg and other centres.

The resolution of the cathedral chapter of Konstanz on 14 April 1508 to commission ‘several Officia [Proper cycles] for the highest feast-days’ from Isaac was mediated by Georg Slatkonia, master of the Imperial chapel. Isaac completed the requested works (and perhaps more) by November 1509. Pätzig has shown that the music composed for the Konstanz commission comprised only the 25 cycles printed in the second volume of the Choralis Constantinus (1555); he suggests that the 48 cycles in the first volume and the 25 in the third were composed for the Imperial chapel, since they correspond to the appropriate items in the Graduale pataviense of 1511. It has been objected that the printed gradual does not always exactly match Isaac’s text or cantus-firmus melody, but it is a source representing the liturgy of Vienna Cathedral rather than that of the more eclectic Imperial chapel.

Since the cycles in the first volume of the Choralis Constantinus provide music only for Sundays throughout the year, but not for feast-days, they must have been conceived as part of a larger scheme, probably about 1505–7. The most important feasts are still omitted from the third volume; these were probably provided for by the six-voice Proper items mentioned above. The Konstanz cycles in the second volume were probably ill-suited to the Imperial chapel: they differ in scoring and cleffing, and only three individual sections from the second volume were re-used in the first. Throughout the Choralis Constantinus the settings are usually for four voices. In the first two volumes the plainchant intonation is normally in the discantus, but in the third it is in the bassus. The cycles typically consist of polyphonic settings of the introit (without ‘Gloria Patri’), alleluia or tract, sequence (if present) and communion, never of the gradual or offertory.

The last part of Isaac’s life seems to have been continually occupied with the composition of Proper cycles, but the fragmentary nature of the third volume of the Choralis Constantinus suggests that this labour remained uncompleted. Isaac’s pupil Ludwig Senfl, a member of the Imperial establishment from 1508, collected and copied much of the music later published in the first and third volumes of the Choralis Constantinus (see Bente). He seems not to have had access to the cycles numbered 1–25 in the work-list (might they have been composed before 1508?), but only to numbers 26–42 from the first volume. In 1531 Senfl assembled many of the cycles later published in the third volume, together with many of his own, into four choirbooks of the Bavarian chapel (D-Mbs 35–8), giving them the title En opus musicum festorum dierum and apparently with a view to publication. Evidently this project was superseded by that of printing the Choralis Constantinus itself, announced in 1537 by the Nuremberg editor Hans Ott (in his preface to RISM 1537¹) who had obtained much of the material from the Munich chapel. Senfl may have edited the collection; certainly he provided the introit and gradual for the first cycle in the third volume, and completed the last item, the sequence for St Ursula Virginalis turma sexus, which Isaac had died in the midst of composing. The publication did not take place until after the deaths of both Ott and Senfl; the first volume appeared in 1550 from the press of Ott’s usual printer Formschneider on behalf of Ott’s widow. Formschneider printed the second and third volumes in 1555 at the expense of the Augsburg merchant Georg Willer, who dedicated them to Hans Jacob Fugger.

The monumental scale of the Choralis Constantinus reflects the growing wealth and prestige of courtly musical institutions, which regularly furnished themselves with the most refined and up-to-date music. Had it been completed, Isaac’s project for the Imperial chapel would have provided elaborate polyphonic Propers for about 100 days of the year. It forms a parallel to the literary and pictorial monuments Maximilian was commissioning about this time to exalt his reputation: the Weisskunig, Teuerdank and Triumphzug. The heraldic and humanistic prestige of these works is matched by the dignity of the ancestral ritual and plainchant in Isaac’s cycle of cycles. Though smaller in scale, the music for Konstanz Cathedral was an analogous undertaking.

Isaac is not in any obvious sense a ‘monumental’ composer. His immense task entrusted to him alone rather than a team of musicians was probably made easier by excellent pay and good working conditions; many settings perhaps originated in his Florence home and were first tried out by Italian singers. His solutions to the task of clothing the chant in polyphony demonstrate his stunning versatility in many idioms of counterpoint, sonority, word-setting and musical structure, his readiness to be inspired by the melody and words of the plainsong, his emphasis on the immediate sounding moment rather than underlying hidden structures. Virtually no music is reused literally, even where the chant melodies are identical or similar; even though the counterpoint may be formulaic, the cantus firmus may take a unique shape each time. The characteristics of the divers plainsong genres are often given polyphonic analogues: long, melismatic tract sections in reduced scoring, compact introit verses, declamatory and rhythmically energetic sequence verses. The greatest mensural and textural variety is to be found in the multisectional sequence settings, in which the number of voices varies between two and six. The flexibility of cantus-firmus technique exceeds even that of the alternatim masses. The chant melodies may be set out in long note-values or as declamatory points of imitation, but they usually soon merge into a web of similar melodies. Individual motifs of the cantus firmus, such as pitch repetitions or large leaps, are often taken up in the counterpoint to amplify their dramatic force. Strict canon and mensural complexity are more frequent than in the alternatim masses, especially in the music for Konstanz Cathedral. Above all, Isaac responded to the individuality of his texts and their rhetorical structures, and many cases of text-illustration and modal expressivity can be found. Triple-metre proportional sections are often illustrative, or joyful and dance-like. Occasionally Isaac quoted extraneous tunes (e.g. in cycle no.54 for Easter the cantio Christus surrexit, the antiphon Regina caeli and the sequence Victimae paschali laudes). The three volumes of the Choralis Constantinus vary little in style, although in the third volume, where the chanted intonations are consistently in the bassus, the cantus firmus is more often at the bottom of the texture and simpler in rhythm.

Besides Konstanz, Vienna and Munich, Isaac’s Proper cycles were cultivated in the chapels of Saxony, Württemberg and the Palatinate, and they were expanded by similar compositions by other composers such as Sixt Dietrich and Clemens Hör. Excerpts were quoted by the theorists Sebald Heyden and Heinrich Glarean. Besides Senfl, another pupil of Isaac’s, Adam Rener, began to compose similar cycles for the Saxon chapel at Torgau after 1507. Although the Choralis Constantinus probably had no influence on Francesco Layolle’s composition of the Lyons Contrapunctus (1528), it may have a bearing on Corteccia’s cycles for Florence in the 1540s. The Wittenberg printer Georg Rhau published two collections of Proper cycles by a wider circle of composers in 1539 and 1545, for use in the Lutheran service; though the Imperial and Catholic implications of Isaac's project were no longer relevant to many of its purchasers, the publication of the Choralis Constantinus in the 1550s demonstrates the continuing authority of his achievement.

(iii) Motets.

Over 50 motets by Isaac are known to survive in a wide variety of manuscript and printed sources. Their creation covered most of his career, and they correspondingly display a great diversity of styles. Some are firmly rooted in the Franco-Flemish tradition, some are Italianate, and some approach the German tradition exemplified by his music for the Proper of the Mass. Isaac’s reputation in the present is not so dependent on his motets as, for instance, Josquin's; no comprehensive modern edition has yet appeared, and there are serious problems of dating and attribution.

The genre of the motet in Isaac’s time was rather loosely defined. The vast majority of motets were composed to Latin texts, but they might be secular or religious, public or intimate. Aspects of style and form distinguish the motet, on the one hand, from works for substitution in the liturgy such as settings of the Proper of the Mass, hymns or the Magnificat, and on the other from songs, so that we can recognize, for example, sequence motets not for liturgical substitution (e.g. Inviolata), secular motets (e.g. Quid retribuam tibi) and sacred songs (e.g. Christ ist erstanden). Most of Isaac’s motets are settings of plainchant where the texts of the free voices and the cantus firmus are the same; others are based on borrowed tenors with different words, and some have no cantus firmus at all. Some textless works resemble motets more than songs and will be included here.

The largest group of Isaac’s motets is that in which the cantus firmus gives its words to the motet as a whole. By far the largest genre of chant models is the antiphon; responsories, sequences, hymns and psalms also occur. In what seem to be his three earliest surviving works (copied as a group c1476 in the Innsbruck manuscript Mbs 3154), Isaac constructed the entire cantus firmus as a scaffold and stated it more than once. In Argentum et aurum, the chant melody proceeds in equal breves and migrates from the discantus to the bassus and finally to the tenor. In Ecce sacerdos magnus, the cantus firmus is given in canon, first between the upper pair of voices and then between the lower pair; each phrase ends with pervading imitation of the chant; Inviolata, integra et casta es is similar. Another early work is Salve regina (i), whose cantus firmus is notated as if for chant, to be interpreted as equal breves in diminution (semibreves in relation to the other voices) – a not uncommon procedure in the late 15th century.

Most of Isaac’s chant-based motets, however, transform the plainsong into a flexible mensural melody through a sensitive melodic and rhythmic elaboration. The chant may be in the discantus, the tenor, or occasionally in the bassus. In the antiphon motets Gaude Dei genitrix and Sancta Maria Virgo the plainsong migrates through the texture. Often, the cantus firmus is assigned to a pair of voices, as in the responsory settings Accessit ad pedes, Quae est ista and Discubuit Jesus, where it is imitated between discantus and tenor, or in the monumental five-voice Regina caeli, in which it appears in canon between the two lowest voices and is paraphrased in the others. The works mentioned are transmitted chiefly in relatively late German sources; some of the chant melodies show Central-European peculiarities. A different approach was taken in Salve regina (ii): each of its ten sections opens with references to the antiphon melody but quickly dissolves into florid counterpoint with repetitive and patterned textures. The section ‘Ad te clamamus’ circulated widely in Italy after 1490 as a separate piece under various titles.

A number of Isaac’s plainchant motets are divided into two or three sections or show other characteristics of the motet tradition such as syllabic, chordal declamation, fermata chords or changes of texture to emphasize textual divisions. The Marian antiphon settings Alma redemptoris mater, Ave regina caelorum, Ave sanctissima Maria, Anima mea liquefact est and Tota pulchra es belong in this group. In most of these motets the chant is loosely paraphrased and may appear in any voice. A striking texture is found in Tota pulchra es, in the Phrygian mode with a low tessitura (E-c''); at the beginning of the second section, ‘Flores apparuerunt’, the altus sings a long, ornamented melody against sustained notes in the outer voices. Pervading imitation is infrequent in Isaac’s motets, but it characterizes the three-section antiphon motets Ave sanctissima Maria and Anima mea liquefacta est as well as a few other Italianate works. Longer biblical texts, for which Isaac paraphrased the recitation tones, are set in the psalm motets Quid retribuam Domino and In convertendo, the psalm compilation Illumina oculos meos and the Oratio Jeremiae prophetae. Several works have unidentified cantus firmi, most notably Sub tuum praesidium (composed in 1505 for the Konstanz organist Martin Vogelmayer), O Maria, mater Christi, Hodie societies and Parce,Domine, which employs the same unknown melody as Obrecht’s setting. Recordare Jesu Christe seems to be a Protestant contrafactum of the responsary Recordare virgo mater (with trope, ‘Ab hoc familia”, of which the chant is also used in Isaac's setting.

Isaac’s tenor motets employ a borrowed cantus firmus whose text is distinct from that of the other voices; they are usually laid out in two sections of contrasting mensuration. Angeli, archangeli/Comme femme (for six voices) and O decus Ecclesiae (for four) are early works. The former, with its climactic form, resembles the paradigmatic five-voice tenor motets of Johannes Regis, with which it is found in the Chigi Codex (I-Rvat Chigi C.VIII.234); it combines a compilation of antiphon texts for All Saints with the tenor of Binchois’ chanson. The incipit of O decus Ecclesiae (an antiphon for St Dominic; no further text is preserved) is probably not original; the tenor is an ascending and descending hexachordal scale, entirely in breves, resembling examples in pedagogical texts. Alternatively it might have been intended as a heraldic composition. Palle, palle is a similar textless work composed over a tenor ostinato symbolizing the Medici coat of arms (see Atlas, 1974). The occasion for which it was written is uncertain (though it must be dated before 1494, by which time it had been copied into the chansonnier I-Rvat C.G.XIII.27), but it can be linked to a wider tradition of symbolic-heraldic Wappenmotetten (see Staehelin, 1997). The hexachordal subject or fantasia La mi la sol, la sol la mi was the basis of the textless motet of that title, composed in two days in Ferrara in 1502. Presented as a progressively accelerating ostinato in the tenor, the subject also enters the free voices and gives a Phrygian cast to the modal sonority.

Some of Isaac’s tenor motets were composed for specific occasions. The six-voice Virgo prudentissima seems to have been composed in 1507, when Maximilian was preparing for his forthcoming coronation as Emperor, and it may have been performed at the diet of Konstanz. The free voices sing a poem in hexameters invoking the Virgin and archangels on the ruler’s behalf in the name of the Imperial rector cappellae Georg Slatkonia; the cantus firmus in the second altus is an antiphon that begins with the same words. Optime divino/Da pacem/Sacerdos et pontifex was composed to celebrate the meeting of Cardinal Matthäus Lang and Pope Leo X in December 1513. The primary text refers to the singers of the Imperial chapel, and in each of the two sections the two cantus firmi are stated simultaneously.

Many of Isaac’s motets without cantus firmus are also occasional compositions. Quis dabit capiti meo aquam?, the funeral motet for Lorenzo de’ Medici (d 1492), has been mentioned above; Poliziano's words allude to a pslam text. The motet has no cantus firmus apart from the transposing ostinato ‘et requiescamus in pace’ adapted from the Missa ‘Salva nos’. Another humanistic funerary epigram, perhaps for the composer Alexander Agricola (d 1506), provides the words for Nil prosunt lacrimae. Sancti Spiritus assit nobis gratia uses a humanistic poem that incorporates some liturgical words (e.g., its opening is that of a sequence); like Virgo prudentissima, it was composed as an exhortation to the diet of Konstanz in 1507 and may have been performed at its opening on Whitsunday. Quid retribuam tibi, O Leo, Isaac’s thanksgiving to Leo X (c1514), is intimately scored for three voices. The second section, ‘Argentum et aurum non habeo’, seems to allude in both words and music to Isaac's mass and motet on this antiphon and to assert his poverty.

The text of Quis dabit pacem populo timenti? consists of 12 lines from Seneca’s tragedy Hercules Oetaeus. This quotation set with processional splendour, functions as a new reference to authority – classical rather than contemporary. The motets Prophetarum maxime, a prayer to St John the Baptist, patron saint of Florence and its baptistery, and Salve Virgo sanctissima, a devotional motet apparently influenced by the idiom of the lauda, are similar in style. The three-voice motets Gratias refero tibi and Gentile spiritus are transmitted with incipits only, and their texts cannot be identified, while the words to the four-voice Sive vivamus (= Ave regina caelorum) are clearly contrafacta. The textures and techniques of all three are comparable to some ‘songs without words’ (see below), but their forms ally them to the motets.

(iv) Songs.

Isaac's songs participate in more than one tradition, reflecting his eventful career and many skills. Songs were distinguished from other genres of the time by their normal use of strict repetitive forms and vernacular language, but they might be sacred as well as secular, or they might combine vernacular song-texts and forms with plainchant cantus firmi. Textless performance by voices or instruments was always an option (as indeed it was for mass sections and motets), and some songs were conceived from the outset without words. Isaac embraced all of these possibilities. Three main stylistic principles inform his songs, sometimes supporting one another and sometimes conflicting: the cantus-firmus principle, elaborating a pre-existing melodic pattern without much regard to the words; the principle of word-orientated setting of poetry; the principle of ostinato or sequential repetition and virtuoso ornamentation. (The last has often been identified as an ‘instrumental’ idiom, but this probably underestimates the vocal culture of Isaac’s time.)

Many of Isaac’s 35 or so settings of French or Dutch words are derivative of pre-existing chansons. The re-use of individual voices (discantus or tenor) of well-known songs predominates, often with added technical twists such as dual-speed rhythms and ostinatos as in Le serviteur, Tart ara and J’ay pris amours. Helas, que devera is a reworking of the entire polyphonic texture of Caron's rondeau. The anonymous Fortuna desperata, which although it has an Italian text is analogous in status to a French rondeau, was employed by Isaac five or six times as a basis for experimentation with modal transposition or combination with other tunes (e.g. the litany formula Sancte Petre). Other chansons derive from the repertoire of popularizing monophonic songs known as chansons rustiques. The original chansons may have ABA or refrain forms, though these may be obscured by the counterpoint of the polyphonic setting. Isaac followed Busnoys and Caron in blending the repetitive patter characteristic of the chanson rustique with ostinato accompaniment. In Je suys malcontent (= Serviteur suis) he used a tune also set by Martini in O intemerata (= Der newe pawir schwantcz), which was probably French in origin. En l’ombre d’ung buissonet/Une musque de Biscaye/Sustinuimus pacem is a tour de force of combination. En lo'ombre and Maudit soyt had their chanson rustique tunes broken into two parts in the manner of motets, and in the latter case the sections are presented in revese order.

In Florence, where many of Isaac’s French songs originated, he also contributed to local song traditions. A la battaglia, a mildly pictorial battle-piece, was sung in 1487 with a political text referring to Florentine military campaigns, but it may also have been played in a Sacra rappresentazione of 1489. Nè più bella is a canto carnascialesco performed by three goddesses riding a float in the Carnival pageants (other such songs by Isaac are lost). Civic, theatrical or processional use is possible for Hor'e di maggio, La morra and various textless pieces; the quodlibet setting of Florentine popular songs, Donna, di dentro, is only implicitly theatrical. Morte che fai (if authentic), on a strambotto by Serafino dall’Aquila, would be Isaac’s only contribution to a Neapolitan courtly idiom. Isaac’s other Italian songs are more intimate, some using the barzelletta poetry of Lorenzo de’ Medici’s circle. They are simpler in style than the French songs, often homophonic but not always observing Italian word-accents. These pieces inhabit an artistic world somewhere between the Florentine civic songs, the North Italian courtly (frottola) repertories and the earliest madrigals.

Isaac’s German songs are conventionally categorized as ‘Tenorlieder’, although the use of a pre-existent melody in the tenor was widespread throughout Europe. They fall roughly into two groups. The popular song arrangements are comparable to their French counterparts, using more artifice than any of the Italian-texted songs. The kaleidoscopic ostinato textures, pervasive imitations and complex forms of Es wolt ein Meydlein, Greiner, Zancker or Mein Müterlein revive the spirit of Busnoys’ chansons rustiques. The cantus-firmus settings In meinem Sinn and Ain frewlich Wesen (really Flemish songs with Germanized titles) also belong in this group, as do the Leise settings Christ ist erstanden and In Gottes Namen; an autograph copy of the latter survives (in D-Bsb 40021). Simpler approaches characterize the devotional hymns Süsser Vater and Maria Junckfrow (stylistically related to the famous Maria zart).

The second group comprises settings of courtly love songs (Hofweisen), a genre that was rapidly becoming fashionable around 1500. The only contemporary with a similar formative influence on it was Paul Hofhaimer. Isaac’s settings are usually in four voices; they have dense textures with few rests and brief strettos rather than stretched-out imitation. All the voices may be texted; melismatic passages alternate with chordal (although not always simultaneous) declamation. The songs are usually in the old refrain form AA'B (ballade, Kanzonenstrophe, ‘bar form’), unlike French or Italian courtly songs of the time. The elegiac tone of the poems, their predictable scansion and the musical phrase structures rather resemble the style of the earliest Italian madrigals. Some pieces have detachable melodies in the tenor, which may also have been used by other composers (e.g. Ich stund an einem Morgen).

Probably Isaac’s best-known German songs, the two settings of Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen, have problematic aspects. The poetic form AABCCB, which so memorably determines the shape of the melody, is neither a popular scheme nor a Kanzonenstrophe. Staehelin (1989) suggests that a pre-existent Hofweise – perhaps beginning ‘Zurück muss ich dich lassen’ – was used, but no copy of the melody from before Isaac’s time is known. Isaac’s setting (i), with the melody in the discantus and an expressive but rhythmically simple harmonization, resembles his Italian songs and many mass sections; its earliest sources date from the 1530s. In the second setting (ii), first found in the 1520s, tenor and altus sing the melody in canon, as is more usual in German songs. The bassus of a four-voice setting, of uncertain authorship, survives as well from about 1510. Who composed the melody itself? Stylistic analogies connect it with the Italian lauda or frottola idioms, with some Hofweisen, and with certain French songs such as Helas que devera or Comment poit avoir joye. The opening rhythm is a familiar cliché in Franco-Italian songs from Florence, some of them by Isaac himself. For these reasons, Isaac seems to be the composer of the melody and at least of its Italianate setting (i), whereas the canonic setting (ii) and the anonymous bassus fragment might be Germanized, more contrapuntal adaptations.

Isaac’s manner of handling pre-existing melodies was much imitated by the next generation of German composers, and a number of his lieder, motets and mass sections circulated widely and were intabulated by German organists and lutenists throughout the 16th century. For these reasons, as well as on account of delayed transmission (e.g. the Nuremberg anthologies, RISM 1539²⁷ and 1544²⁰, with suspiciously many new ascriptions to Isaac), there are graver problems of authenticity among Isaac’s German songs than in any other genre he cultivated. There are also problems of national genre, such as occur when German sources give songs without complete texts, implying the ad hoc underlay of German poetry to an originally foreign song. For example, Ach, hertzigs K., Zart liepste Frucht (incipits only), Al mein Mut (text formally irregular) and Erst weis ich (whose text may have been added by Hofhaimer) may all have been originally French rondeaux.

Many Italian and German sources transmit music of all kinds without text, allowing for the substitution of local verse in this way. Songs, motets and mass sections might also be performed without words, either by voices (vocalizing or solmizing) or instruments. Travelling instrumentalists were widely involved in the transmission of vocal pieces by Isaac, trading them as ‘songs without words’ (Edwards, 1981). Generic titling also occurs: that is, the use of well-worn or generic title such as ‘Helas’, ‘Serviteur’, ‘Martinella’ or simply ‘Carmen’ to denote a ‘piece without ’.Isaac also seems to have conceived a number of works as textless compositions from the start, usually abandoning the characteristic song forms. En l’ombre and Maudit soyt had their chanson rustique tunes broken into two parts in the manner of motets, and in the latter case the sections are presented in reverse order. La morra (named after a popular game) and Martinella (whose name comes from an analogous composition by Johannes Martini) are independent works in chanson style with Italian names. Der Hundt, which also quotes a German popular song, is linked with a group of pieces bearing animal names, collected for instrumental performance, in the Glogauer Liederbook. Some pieces circulated without title in Italian manuscripts and in German sources were given the generic designation Carmen (‘song’). Undoubtedly the strangest of Isaac’s wordless songs is La la hö hö, with its motet-like two-section form and enigmatic title. It turns out to be based on a dervish song (see Staehelin, 1991), perhaps heard in Vienna during a Turkish diplomatic visit. Isaac elaborated the brief tune as a migrating ostinato, similarly to his procedure with many a Western popular tune, for instance the pilgrims’ song In Gottes Namen faren wir; indeed, the two songs share a comparable religious imagery, connecting bodily motion (dancing in La la hö hö, marching in In Gottes Namen) with the praise of the Almighty.

3. Significance and reception.

In the group of North European composers who were his contemporaries – Josquin des Prez, Jacob Obrecht, Alexander Agricola, Pierre de la Rue, Gaspar van Weerbeke – Isaac’s reputation is second only to that of Josquin, a modern ranking seemingly confirmed by the dissemination of his works in surviving manuscript copies. His astonishing productivity and creative flexibility have already been mentioned; he is consistently documented in the role of a ‘composer’ and must have projected himself as such, showing the opinion that all musicians of his time were essentially performers to be exaggerated. Isaac is the earliest composer by whom we have ascertained musical autographs. His success in setting a dervish song in four-part polyphony does not necessarily mean that he had intercultural interests, but suggests that he had a perceptive ear for unusual performances and rituals. In his music, episodic form and engaging spontaneity contrast with the grand gestures of full-voiced ceremony. His attachment to ecclesiastical plainchant seems incongruous with the fact that he, unusually, was a married layman who did not have to sing the offices in church. His career is more memorable than those of many contemporaries; his personal association with two of the greatest Renaissance patrons, his music on humanist texts and his voluntary choice of Florence as his permanent home place him at the centre of the so-called musical Renaissance. Isaac is unique, furthermore, in that he influenced not only the Franco-Flemish and Italian musical traditions, but also the Central European one (thus anticipating Lassus). As if in gratitude, German-speaking musicians of several centuries (particularly the 19th) have cherished him as the composer of Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen (which, contrafacted as O Welt, ich muss dich lassen, was naturalized as a Lutheran chorale and set by J.S. Bach); at the same time, they searched feverishly for the presumed German folksong behind the famous setting. A few Latin-texted works, and the name rather than the music of the Choralis Constantinus, have been the only other tokens of the composer’s almost mythical image among Germans.

The historical foundation for this reception was the 16th-century acceptance of the Catholic polyphonic repertories that Isaac dominated in his lifetime by the German-speaking courts (Catholic and Protestant) and by the churches and schools of the Lutheran Reformation, a process in which Isaac’s followers (such as Ludwig Senfl) and admirers (such as Henrich Glarean) were instrumental. The Romantics were able to regard Isaac almost as a ‘national’ forerunner of Bach. Romanticism and Austro-German nationalism motivated his critical appraisal by Guido Adler’s Viennese circle in the 1890s, resulting, for example, in Anton von Webern’s critical edition of the second volume of the Choralis Constantinus (Vienna, 1909), which he prefaced with a remarkable essay on Isaac’s counterpoint. After the Nazis had exploited Isaac’s music (and banished Webern’s), he has not yet found his proper place again in the international circuit, although Anglo-American as well as Swiss, German and Austrian musicologists and performers have knit together some of the threads. Isaac’s Missa ‘La mi la sol’ was copied in (together with much Spanish music) Guatemala in the 16th century (US-BLl Guatemala music 4), which highlights not only the breadth of his fame but also his link with Habsburg colonialism. The fact that the manusript is now in the possession of a library in the USA continues this historical pattern.

cyclic settings of the proper of the mass

WORKS

source information in Picker (1991)

Editions: Henrici Isaac Opera omnia, ed. E.R. Lerner, CMM, lxv/1– (1974–) [L]Heinrich Isaac: Weltliche Werke, ed. J. Wolf, DTÖ, xxviii, Jg.xiv/1 (1907/R); xxxii, Jg.xvi/1, suppl. (1909/R) [W]Georg Rhau: Musikdrucke aus den Jahren 1538–1545 in praktischer Neuausgabe, ed. H. Albrecht and others (Kassel and St Louis, 1955–) [RhauM]

masses and mass sections

other settings of the proper of the mass

motets

songs and textless works

doubtful works

misattributed works

masses and mass sections

Editions: Heinrich Isaac: Five Polyphonic Masses, ed. L. Cuyler (Ann Arbor, 1956) [C]Henricus Isaac: Messe, ed. F. Fano, AMMM, x (1962) [F]Heinrich Isaac: Messen, ed. M. Staehelin, Musikalische Denkmäler, vii–viii (Mainz, 1970–73) [S]

cycles and movements based on Mass Ordinary chants

Missa ‘Argentum et aurum’, 4vv, S ii

Missa carminum, 4vv, ed. in Cw, vii (1930)

Missa ‘Chargé de deul’, 4vv, L vi, F

Missa ‘Comme femme desconfortee’, 4vv, L vi

Missa ‘Comment poit avoir joie’ [= ‘Wohlauf Gesell, von hinnen’], 4vv, F

Missa ‘Een vrolic wesen’, 4vv, L vi

Missa ‘Et trop penser’, 4vv, L vi; ed. in EDM, 1st ser., lxxvi (1990)

Missa ‘J’ay pris amours’, lost, cited in 1490

Missa ‘Je ne fays’, lost

Missa ‘La mi la sol’ [= ‘O praeclara’], 4vv, S ii

Missa ‘La Spagna’, 4vv, L vii, F

Missa ‘Misericordias Domini’, 4vv, San ed. in Reese (1974)

Missa ‘Pange lingua’, lost

Missa ‘Quant j’ay au cueur’, 4vv, L vii, F

Missa ‘Salva nos’, 4vv, S ii; ed. W. Pass (Vienna, 1972)

Missa ‘T’meiskin was jonck’, 4vv, L vii

Missa ‘Une musque de Biscaye’, 4vv, L vii; ed. in EDM, 1st ser., lxxvi (1990)

Missa ‘Virgo prudentissima’, 6vv, S ii

Missa ‘Wolauff Gesell, von hinnen [= ‘Comment peut avoir joie’], 6vv, ed. in EDM, 1st ser., lxxxi (1990)

Sanctus ‘Fortuna desperata’, 4vv, see songs, Fortuna desperata

cycles and movements based on Mass Ordinary chants

Missa de apostolis [=‘Magne Deus’], 4vv, L iv, C

Missa de apostolis, 5vv, L iii

Missa de apostolis, 6vv, L i

Missa de Beata Virgine, 4vv (i), L iv, S i

Missa de Beata Virgine, 5vv (i), L ii, S i

Missa de Beata Virgine, 5vv (ii), L ii, S i

Missa de Beata Virgine, 6vv, L i, S i

Missa de Beata Virgine, lost

Missa de confessoribus, 4vv, L iv, C

Missa de confessoribus, 5vv, L iii

Missa ferialis, 4vv, (Ky, San, Ag only), L iv

Missa de martyribus, 4vv, L iv, C

Missa de martyribus, 5vv, L iii

Missa paschalis, 4vv (i), L iv, C

Missa paschalis, 4vv (ii), [‘ad organum’], L iv

Missa paschalis, 5vv, L ii

Missa paschalis, 6vv, L i

Missa solemnis, 4vv, L iv, C

Missa solemnis, 5vv, L ii

Missa solemnis, 6vv, L i

Missa de virginibus, 5vv, L iii

13 Credos, 4vv, L v

Gloria, 4vv, ed. in CMM, xxv (1962) [incorporated into a mass by C. Festa]

cyclic settings of the proper of the mass

Choralis Constantinus, i (Nuremberg, 1550), cycles 1–48; ed. E. Bezecny and W. Rabl, DTÖ, x, Jg.v/1 (1989/R); facs. (Peer, 1990) with introduction by E.R. Lerner
Choralis Constantinus, ii (Nuremberg, 1555), cycles 49–73; ed. A. von Webern, DTÖ, xxxii, Jg.xvi/1 (1909/R); facs. (Peer, 1990) with introduction by E.R. Lerner
Choralis Constantinus, iii (Nuremberg, 1555), cycles 74–99; ed. L. Cuyler (Ann Arbor, 1950); facs. (Peer, 1990) with introduction by E.R. Lerner
All for 4vv; oblique strokes separate plainchant intonations from the beginning of the polyphony.

1	Asperges me/Domine hysopo
2	De Sanctissima Trinitate: Benedicta sit Sancta Trinitas, int; Benedictus es Domine, all; Pater Filius Sanctus Spiritus, seq; Benedicite/Deum coeli, comm
3	Dominica I. post Pentecosten: Domine/in tua misericordia, int; Domine Deus, all; Narrabo omnia/mirabilia, comm
4	Dom. II. post Pent.: Factus est/Dominus protector, int; Deus iudex iustus, all; Cantabo Domino/qui bona tribuit, comm
5	Dom. III. post Pent.: Respice in me/et miserere, int; Diligam te Domine, all; Ego clamavi/quoniam exaudisti me, comm
6	Dom. IV. post Pent.: Dominus illuminatio mea/et salus mea, int; Domine in virtute tua, all; Dominus/firmamentum meum, comm
7	Dom. V. post Pent.: Exaudi Domine vocem meam/qua clamavi, int; In te Domine speravi, all; Unam petii/a Domino hanc requiram, comm
8	Dom. VI. post Pent.: Dominus fortitudo plebis suae/et protector, int; Omnes gentes, all; Circuibo/et immolabo, comm
9	Dom. VII. post Pent.: Omnes gentes/plaudite, int; Eripe me, all; Inclina/aurem tuam, comm
10	Dom. VIII. post Pent.: Suscepimus/Deus misericordiam tuam, int; Te decet hymnus, all; Gustate/et videte, comm
11	Dom. IX. post Pent.: Ecce Deus adiuvat me/et Dominus, int; Attendite popule, all; Primum quaerite/regnum Dei, comm
12	Dom. X. post Pent.: Dum clamarem ad Dominum/exaudivit vocem, int; Exultate Deo, all; Acceptabis/sacrificium, comm
13	Dom. XI. post Pent.: Deus in loco/sancto suo, int; Domine Deus salutis, all [ = setting for Dom. I. post Pent.]; Honora Dominum/de tua substantia, comm
14	Dom. XII. post Pent.: Deus in adjutorium/meum, int; Domine refugium, all; De fructu operum tuorum Domine/satiabitur, comm
15	Dom. XIII. post Pent.: Respice Domine/in testamentum tuum, int; Venite exultemus, all; Panem de coelo/dedisti nobis, comm
16	Dom. XIV. post Pent.: Protector noster aspice Deus/et respice, int; Quoniam Deus magnus, all; Panis/quem ego dedero, comm
17	Dom. XV. post Pent.: Inclina/Domine aurem tuam, int; Paratum cor meum, all; Qui manducat carnem meam/et bibit, comm
18	Dom. XVI. post Pent.: Miserere nostri Domine/quoniam, int; In exitu Israel, all; Domine/memorabor, comm
19	Dom. XVII. post Pent.: Iustus es Domine/et rectum, int; Dilexi quoniam exaudivit, all; Vovete et reddite/Domino Deo, comm
20	Dom. XVIII. post Pent.: Da pacem/Domine, int; Laudate Dominum, all; Tollite hostias/et introite, comm
21	Dom. XIX. post Pent.: Salus populi/ego sum, int; Dextera Dei fecit, all; Tu mandasti/mandata tua, comm
22	Dom. XX. post Pent.: Omnia quae fecisti nobis Domine/in vero, int; Deus iudex iustus, all; Memento verbi tui/servo tuo, comm
23	Dom. XXI. post Pent.: In voluntate tua Domine/universa sunt, int; De profundis clamavi, all; In salutari tuo/anima mea, comm
24	Dom. XXII. post Pent.: Si iniquitates/observaveris Domine, int; Confitebor tibi Domine, all; Dico vobis/gaudium est, comm
25	Dom. XXIII. post Pent.: Dixit Dominus/ego cogite, int; Qui posuit fines, all; Amen dico vobis/quidquid orantes, comm
26	Dom. I. Adv.: Ad te levavi/animam meam, int; Ostende nobis Domine, all; Dominus/dabit benignitatem, comm
27	Dom. II. Adv.: Populus Sion/ecce Dominus, int; Laetatus sum in his, all; Jerusalem/surge et sta, comm
28	Dom. III. Adv.: Gaudete/in Domino semper, int; Excita Domine potentiam, all; Dicite pusillanimes/confortamini, comm
29	Dom. IV. Adv.: Memento nostri Domine/in beneplacito, int; Veni Domine et noli tardare, all; Ecce virgo concipiet/et pariet, comm
30	Dom. infra oct. Epiph.: In excelso throno /vidi sedere, int; Jubilate Deo omnis terra, all; Fili quid fecisti nobis sic/ego et pater, comm
31	Dom. I. post oct. Epiph.: Omnis terra/adoret te, int; Laudate Deum omnes angeli, all; Dicit Dominus/implete hydrias, comm
32	Dom. II. post oct. Epiph.: Adorate Deum/omnes angeli eius, int; Dominus regnavit exultet, all; Mirabantur omnes/de his, comm
33	Dom. in Septuagesima: Circumdederunt me gemitus mortis/dolores, int; De profundis clamavi, tr; Illumina/faciem tuam, comm
34	Dom. in Sexagesima: Exurge/quare obdormis, int; Commovisti Domine, tr; Introibo/ad altare, comm
35	Dom. in Quinquagesima: Esto mihi/in Deum protectorem, int; Jubilate Domino, tr; Manducaverunt/et saturati sunt, comm
36	In die Cinerum: Misereris/omnium Domine, int; Domine non secundum peccata, tr; Qui meditabitur/in lege Domini, comm
37	Dom. Invocavit: Invocavit me/et ego exaudiam, int; Qui habitat in adiutorio, tr; Scapulis suis/obumbrabit, comm
38	Dom. Reminiscere: Reminiscere/miserationum tuarum, int; Dixit Dominus mulieri, tr; Intelligite clamorem meum/intende, comm
39	Dom. Oculi: Oculi mei/semper ad Dominum, int; Ad te levavi oculos meos, tr; Passer invenit sibi domum/et turtur, comm
40	Dom. Laetare: Laetare/Jerusalem et conventum, int; Qui confidunt in Domino, tr; Jerusalem/quae aedificatur, comm
41	Dom. Judica: Judica me Deus/et discerne, int; Saepe expugnaverunt, tr; Hoc corpus/quod pro vobis, comm
42	Dom. Palmarum: Domine/ne longe facias, int; Deus meus respice in me, tr; Pater/si non potest, comm
43	Dom. Quasimodo geniti: Quasimodo geniti/infantes alleluia, int; Mitte manum tuam/et cognosce loca, comm
44	Dom. Misericordia Domini: Misericordia/Domini plena est, int; Surrexit pastor bonus, all; Ego sum pastor bonus/alleluia, comm
45	Dom. Jubilate: Jubilate Deo/omnis terra, int; Surrexit Christus et illuxit, all; Modicum/et non videbitis, comm
46	Dom. Cantate: Cantate Domino/canticum novum, int; Cum venerit Paracletus/spiritus, comm
47	Dom. Vocem iucunditatis: Vocem iucunditatis/annuntiate, int; Benedictus es Dei filius, all; Cantate Domino/alleluia, comm
48	Dom. Exaudi: Exaudi Domine/vocem meam, int; Pater cum essem cum eis/ego servabam, comm
49	Nat. Domini: Puer natus est nobis/et filius, int; Dies sanctificatus illuxit, all; Per quem fit machina, seq; Viderunt/omnes fines, comm
50	Circumcis. Domini: Vultum tuum/deprecabuntur, int; Post partum virgo, all; Regem regum intacte profudit, seq; Simile est regnum coelorum/homini negotiatori, comm
51	Epiph. Domini: Ecce advenit/dominator Dominus, int; Vidimus stellam eius, all; Quae miris sunt modis, seq; Vidimus stellam eius, comm
52	Purific. Mariae: Suscepimus/Deus misericordiam, int; Post partum virgo, all; Generosi Abrahae tu filia, seq; Responsum accepit/Simeon, comm; Gaude Maria virgo, tr
53	Annunt. Mariae: Rorate/coeli desuper, int; Ave Maria gratia plena, tr; Ecce virgo concipiet/et pariet, comm
54	Resurrect. Domini: Resurrexi/et adhuc tecum sum, int; Haec dies/quam fecit, grad; Pascha nostrum immolatus est, all; Et devotis melodiis coelisti, seq; Pascha nostrum/immolatus est, comm
55	Ascens. Domini: Viri Galilaei/quid admiramini, int; Dominus in Sina ascendens, all; Qui coeli qui terrae regit, seq; Psallite Domino/qui ascendit, comm
56	Sancti Spiritus: Spiritus Domini/replevit orbem, int; Veni Sancte Spiritus, all; Quae corda nostra sibi faciat, seq; Factus est repente de coelo sonus/advenientis, comm
57	Corporis Christi: Cibavit eos/ex adipe frumenti, int; Caro mea vere est cibus, all; Quantum potes tantum gaude, seq; Qui manducat carnem meam/et bibit, comm
58	Joannis Bapt.: De ventre matris meae/vocavit me, int; Inter natos mulierum, all; Sollemnia celebrantes moribus, seq; Tu puer/propheta altissimi, comm
59	Joannis et Pauli: Multae tribulationes iustorum/et de his, int; Isti sunt duae olivae, all; Quam velut praeclaro lumine, seq; Et si coram hominibus/tormenta passi sunt, comm
60	Petri et Pauli: Nunc scio vere/quia misit, int; Tu es Petrus et super hanc, all; Ecclesiam vestris doctrinis illuminatam, seq; Tu es Petrus/et super hanc, comm
61	Visitat. Mariae: Gaudeamus/omnes in Domino, int; Magnificat anima mea, all; Piae vocis laudes canta, seq; Beata viscera/Mariae virginis, comm
62	Mariae Magdalenae: Gaudemus/omnes in Domino, int; Mariae haec est illa, all; Coeli terrae maris angelorum, seq; Dico vobis/gaudium est, comm
63	Assumpt. Mariae: Gaudeamus/omnes in Domino, int; Assumpta est Maria, all; Quae sine virili conmixtione, seq; Dilexisti iustitiam/et odisti, comm
64	Sancti Geberhardi: Sacerdotes tui/Domine induant, int; O Geberharde de sublimis, all; Quae sanctos semper tuos, seq; Beatus servus/quem cum venerit, comm
65	Sancti Pelagii: Laetabitur iustus/in Domino, int; O Pelagi martyr Christi, all; Immensa Domini sacramenta mirandis, seq; Qui vult venire post me/abneget, comm
66	Nat. Mariae: Gaudemus/omnes in Domino, int; Nativitas gloriosae virginis, all; Laude digna angelorum, seq; Diffusa est/gratia in labiis, comm
67	Dedicat. templi: Terribilis est/locus iste, int; Vox exultationis et salutis, all; Haec quae sibi desponsavit, seq; Domus mea/domus orationes, comm
68	Sancta cruc.: Nos autem/gloriari oportet, int; Dulce lignum dulces clavos, all; Dulce melos pulset coelos, seq; Nos autem/gloriari oportet, comm
69	Omn. sanctorum: Gaudeamus omnes in Domino, int; Vox exultationis et salutis, all; Principatus potestates virtutes, seq; Amen dico vobis/quod vos, comm
70	Sancti Martini: Sacerdotes tui Domini/induant, int; Martinus episcopus migravit, all; Atque illius nomen, seq; Beatus servus/quem cum venerit, comm
71	Praesentat. Mariae: Gaudeamus/omnes in Domino, int; Felix virgo quae nondum, all; Uno nexu coniugatis, seq; Beata viscera/Mariae virginis, comm
72	Sancti Conradi: Sacerdotes tui Domine/induant, int; Ecce sacerdos magnus, all; Invitans ad praesulis Christum, seq; Beatus servus/quem cum venerit, comm
73	Concept. Mariae: Gaudeamus/omnes in Domino, int; Conceptio gloriosae, all; De radice Jesse propaginis, seq; Diffusa est/gratia in labiis, comm
74	In vigilia unius apostoli; Ego autem/sicut oliva fructificavi, int; Iustus/ut palma florebit, grad; Dorsa eorum plena sunt, all; Voce quorum salus fluxit, seq; Ego vos elegi/de mundo, comm
75	Commune apostolorum: Mihi autem nimis/honorati sunt amici, int; Non vos me elegistis, all; Per manus autem, all; Iam non estis hospites, all; Clare sanctorum senatus, seq; Vos qui secuti estis me/sedebitis, comm; Amen dico vobis/quod vos qui reliquistis, comm
76	Commune martyrum: Multae tribulationes iustorum/et de his, int; Induant sancti tui/et dominantur, int; Iusti epulentur/et exultent, int; Sancti tui Domine/benedicent, int; Sapientiam sanctorum/narrant, int; Salus autem iustorum/a Domino, int; Intret in conspectu tuo Domine/gemitus, int; Corpora sanctorum in pace sepulta sunt, all; Iusti autem in perpetuum, all; Iusti epulentur, all; Te martyrum candidatus, all; Stabunt iusti in magna constantia, all; Gaudete iusti in Domino, all; Laetamini in Domino, all; Sancti tui Domine, all; Gaudete et exultate, all; O devote recolenda, seq; Agone triumphali, seq; Multitudo languentium/et qui vexabantur, comm; Iustorum animae/in manu Dei sunt, comm; Et si coram hominibus/tormenta passi sunt, comm; Posuerunt mortalia servorum tuorum Domine/escas, comm; Anima mea/sicut passer, comm; Amen dico vobis/amicis meis, comm; Gaudete iusti/in Domino, comm
77	Commune unius martyris: Laetabitur iustus/in Domino, int; In virtute tua/Domine laetabitur, int; Gloria et honore/coronasti eum, int; Protexisti me Deus/a conventu, int; Iustus non conturbabitur/quia Dominus firmat, int; Iustus ut palma florebit/sicut cedrus, int; Laetabitur iustus in Domino, all; Beatus vir qui timet Dominum, all; Iustus germinabit sicut lilium, all; Iustus ut palma florebit, all; Morte Christum imitatus, seq; Haec est sancta sollemnitas, seq; Laetabitur iustus/in Domino, comm; Qui mihi ministrat/me sequatur, comm; Posuisti Domine/in capite, comm; Qui vult venire post me/abneget, comm; Magna est gloria eius/in salutari, comm
78	Commune confessoris: Statuit/ei Dominus testamentum, int; Os iusti/meditabitur sapientiam, int; Sacerdotes Dei/benedicite, int; Sacerdotes eius/induant, int; Iuravit Dominus et non poenitebit, all; Elegit te Dominus sibi, all; Inveni David servum, all; Iste est qui ante Deum, all; Amavit eum, all; Fulgebunt iusti, all; Dilectus Deo et hominibus, seq; Ad laudes Salvatoris ut mens incitetur, seq; Beatus servus/quem cum venerit, comm; Domine/quinque talenta tradidisti, comm; Fidelis servus et prudens/quem constituit, comm
79	Commune virginum: Gaudeamus/omnes in Domino, int; Me expectaverunt/peccatores, int; Loquebar/de testimoniis, int; Dilexisti iustitiam/et odisti, int; Diffusa est gratia, all; Specie tua et pulchritudine, all; Omnis gloria eius filiae, all; Exultent filiae Sion, seq; Simile est regnum coelorum/homini negotiatori, comm; Quinque prudentes virgines/acceperunt, comm; Diffusa est/gratia, comm; Dilexisti iustitiam/et odisti, comm
80	Tractus: Qui seminant in lachrimis, tr; Desiderium animae eius, tr; Beatus vir qui timet, tr; Audi filia et vide, tr; Audi filia et vide, tr
81	Annunt. Mariae: Rorate/coeli desuper et nubes pluant, int; Prophetae sancti praedicaverunt, all; Fortem expediat pro nobis, seq
82	De Sancta Maria, a Nativitate usque ad Purificationem: Vultum tuum/deprecabuntur, int; Post partum virgo inviolata, all; Regem regum intactae profundit, seq
83	Commune Festorum BMV: Salve/sancta parens enixa, int; Sancta Dei genitrix, all; Per quod ave salutata, seq; Beata viscera/Mariae virginis, comm
84	Sanctorum apostolorum Philippi et Jacobi: Exclamaverunt/ad te Domine, int; Tanto tempore vobiscum sum/et non cognovisti, comm
85	Invent. sanctae crucis: Nos autem/gloriari oportet, int; Dulce lignum dulces clavos, all; Laudes crucis attolamus, seq; Nos autem/gloriari oportet, comm
86	In vigilia Sancti Joannis Bapt.: Ne timeas Zacharia/exaudita est oratio, int
87	Nat. Sancti Joannis Bapt.: De ventre matris meae/vocavit me, int; Erat Joannes praedicans, all; Sancti baptistae Christi, seq; Tu puer/propheta altissimi, comm
88	In vigilia sanctorum apostolorum Petri et Pauli: Dicit Dominus Petro/cum esses iunior, int; Simon Joannis/diligis me plus, comm
89	Sanctorum apostolorum Petri et Pauli: Nunc scio vere/quia misit Dominus, int; Tu es Petrus, all; Tu es Petrus/et super hanc petram aedificabo, comm
90	Commem. Sancti Pauli apostoli: Scio cui credidi/et certus sum, int; Tu es vas electionis, all
91	Visitat. BMV: In Maria benignitas per saecula commendatur, all; Veni praecelsa Domina, seq
92	In divisione apostolorum: Coeli enarrant gloriam Dei, seq
93	Mariae Magdalenae paenitentis: Laus tibi Christe qui es creator, seq; Dico vobis/gaudium est angelis, comm
94	In vigilia Sancti Laurentii martyris: Dispersit/dedit pauperibus, int
95	Sancti Laurentii martyris: Confessio/et pulchritudo, int; Levita Laurentius bonum, all; Laurenti David magni martyr, seq
96	Assumpt. BMV: Assumpta est Maria, all; Congaudent angelorum chori, seq
97	Nat. BMV: Nativitas gloriosae virginis, all; Stirpe Maria regia procreata, seq
98	In dedicatione Sancti Michaelis archangeli: Benedicite omnes angeli eius/potentes, int; Concussum est mare et contremuit, all; Ad celebres Rex coelice laudes, seq; Benedicite/omnes angeli Domini, comm
99	Sanctarum Ursulae ac sociarum virginum et martyrum: Virginalis turma sexus, seq [completed by L. Senfl]

alphabetical index

alphabetical index

Acceptabis, 12; Ad celebres, 98; Ad laudes, 78; Adorate, 32; Ad te levavi, 26, 39; Agone, 76; Amavit, 78; Amen dico vobis amicis, 76; Amen dico vobis quidquid, 25; Amen dico vobis quod, 69, 75; Anima mea, 76; Asperges me, 1; Assumpta est Maria, 63, 96; Atque illius nomen, 70; Attendite popule, 11; Audi filia, 80; Ave Maria, 53

Beata viscera, 61, 71, 83; Beatus servus, 64, 70, 72, 78; Beatus vir, 77, 80; Benedicite Deum, 2; Benedicite omnes angeli Domini, 98; Benedicite omnes angeli eius, 98; Benedicta sit Sancta Trinitas, 2; Benedictus es Dei, 47; Benedictus es Domine, 2

Cantabo Domino, 4; Cantate Domino alleluia, 47; Cantate Domino canticum, 46; Caro mea, 57; Cibavit eos, 57; Circuibo, 8; Circumdederunt, 33; Clare sanctorum, 75; Coeli enarrant, 92; Coeli terrae, 62; Commovisti, 34; Conceptio gloriosae, 73; Concussum, 98; Confessio, 95; Confitebor, 24; Congaudent, 96; Corpora sanctorum, 76; Cum venerit, 46

Da pacem, 20; De fructu, 14; De profundis, 23, 33; De radice, 73; Desiderium, 80; Deus in adjutorium, 14; Deus in loco, 13; Deus iudex, 4, 22; Deus meus, 42; De ventre matris, 58, 87; Dextera Dei, 21; Dicit Dominus implete, 31; Dicit Dominus Petro, 88; Dicite pusillanimes, 28; Dico vobis gaudium est, 24, 62, 93; Dies sanctificatus, 49; Diffusa est, 66, 73, 79; Dilectus Deo, 78; Dilexi quoniam, 19; Dilexisti iustitiam, 63, 79; Diligam te, 5; Dispersit, 94; Dixit Dominus ego, 25; Dixit Dominus mulieri, 38; Domine Deus, 3, 13; Domine in tua misericordia, 3; Domine in virtute, 6; Domine memorabor, 18; Domine ne longe, 42; Domine non secundum, 36; Domine quinque talenta, 78; Domine refugium, 14; Dominus dabit, 26; Dominus firmamentum, 6; Dominus fortitudo, 8; Dominus illuminatio, 6; Dominus in Sina, 55; Dominus regnavit, 32; Domus mea, 67; Dorsa eorum, 74; Dulce lignum, 68, 85; Dulce melos, 68; Dum clamarem, 12

Ecce advenit, 51; Ecce Deus, 11; Ecce sacerdos, 72; Ecce virgo, 29, 53; Ecclesiam vestris, 60; Ego autem, 74; Ego clamavi, 5; Ego sum pastor, 44; Ego vos, 74; Elegit te, 78; Erat Joannes, 87; Eripe me, 9; Et devotis, 54; Et si coram, 59, 76; Esto mihi, 35; Exaudi Domine, 7, 48; Excita Domine, 28; Exclamaverunt, 84; Exultate Deo, 12; Exultant filiae, 79; Exurge quare, 34

Factus est Dominus, 4; Factus est repente, 56; Felix virgo, 71; Fidelis servus, 78; Fili quid, 30; Fortum expediat, 81; Fulgebant iusti, 78

Gaudeamus omnes in Domino, 61, 62, 63, 66, 69, 71, 73, 79; Gaude Maria, 52; Gaudete et exultate, 76; Gaudete in Domino, 28; Gaudete iusti, 76; Generosi Abrahae, 52; Gloria et honore, 77; Gustate et videte, 10

Haec dies, 54; Haec est sancta, 77; Haec quae sibi, 67; Hoc corpus, 41; Honora Dominum, 13

Iam non estis, 75; Illumina faciem tuam, 33; Immensa Domini, 65; Inclina aurem, 9; Inclina Domine, 17; Induant sancti, 76; In excelso, 30; In exitu, 18; In Maria, 91; In salutari, 23; In te Domine, 7; Intelligite clamorem, 38; Inter natos, 58; Intret in conspectu, 76; Introibo ad altare, 34; Inveni David, 78; In virtute, 77; Invitans ad praesulis, 72; Invocavit me, 37; In voluntate, 23; Iste est, 78; Isti sunt, 59; Iuravit Dominus, 78; Iusti autem, 76; Iusti epulentur, 76; Iustorum animae, 76; Iustus es, 19; Iustus germinabit, 77; Iustus non conturbabitur, 77; Iustus et palma, 74, 77; Jerusalem que aedificatur, 40; Jerusalem surge, 27; Jubilate Deo, 30, 45; Jubilate Domino, 35; Judica me, 41

Laetabitur iustus, 65, 77; Laetamini, 76; Laetare Jerusalem, 40; Laetatus sum, 27; Laudate Deum, 31; Laudate Dominum, 20; Laude digna, 66; Laudes crucis, 85; Laurenti David, 95; Laus tibi, 93; Levita Laurentius, 95; Loquebar de testimoniis, 79

Magna est, 77; Magnificat, 61; Manducaverunt, 35; Mariae haec, 62; Martinus episcopus, 70; Me exspectaverunt, 79; Memento nostri, 29; Memento verbi, 22; Mihi autem, 75; Mirabantur, 32; Miserere, 18; Misericordia, 44; Misereris omnium, 36; Mitte manum, 43; Modicum et non, 45; Morte Christum, 77; Multae tribulationes, 59, 76; Multitudo languentium, 76

Narrabo, 3; Nativitas gloriosae, 66, 97; Ne timeas, 86; Non vos, 75; Nos autem, 68, 85; Nunc scio, 60, 89

Oculi mei, 39; O devote, 76; O Geberharde, 64; Omnes gentes, 8, 9; Omnia quae, 22; Omnis gloria, 79; Omnis terra, 31; O Pelagi, 65; Os iusti, 78; Ostende nobis, 26

Panem de coelo, 15; Panis quem ego, 16; Paratum cor, 17; Pascha nostrum, 54; Passer invenit, 39; Pater cum, 48; Pater Filius, 2; Pater si non, 42; Per manus autem, 75; Per quem, 49; Per quod ave, 83; Piae vocis, 61; Populus Sion, 2; Post partum, 50, 52, 82; Posuerunt, 76; Posuisti 77; Primum quaerite, 11; Principatus, 69; Prophetae, 81; Protector noster, 16; Protexisti, 77; Psallite, 55; Puer natus, 49

Quae corda, 56; Quae miris, 51; Quae sanctos, 64; Quae sine, 63; Quam velut, 59; Quantum potes, 57; Quasimodo geniti, 43; Qui coeli, 55; Qui confidunt, 40; Qui habitat, 37; Qui manducat, 17, 57; Qui meditabitur, 36; Qui mihi, 77; Quinque prudentes, 79; Qui posuit, 25; Qui seminant, 80; Qui vult, 65, 77; Quoniam Deus, 16

Regem regum, 50, 82; Reminiscere, 38; Respice Domine, 15; Respice in me, 5; Responsum accepit, 52; Resurrexi, 54; Rorate coeli, 53, 81

Sacerdotes Dei, 78; Sacerdotes eius, 78; Sacerdotes tui, 64, 70, 72; Saepe expugnaverunt, 41; Salus autem, 76; Salus populi, 21; Salve sancta, 83; Sancta Dei, 83; Sancti baptistae, 87; Sancti tui, 76; Sapientiam, 76; Scapulis, 37; Scio cui, 90; Si iniquitates, 24; Simile est, 50, 79; Simon Joannis, 88; Sollemnia, 58; Specie tua, 79; Spiritus Domini, 56; Stabunt iusti, 76; Statuit ei, 78; Stirpe Maria, 97; Surrexit Christus, 45; Surrexit pastor, 44; Suscepimus Deus, 10, 52

Tanto tempore, 84; Te decet, 10; Te martyrum, 76; Terribilis est, 67; Tollite hostias, 20; Tu es Petrus, 60, 89; Tu es vas, 90; Tu mandasti, 21; Tu puer, 58, 87

Unam petii, 7; Uno nexu, 71; Veni Domine, 29; Veni praecelsa, 91; Veni Sancte Spiritus, 56; Venite exultemus, 15; Viderunt omnes, 49; Vidimus stellam, 51; Virginalis turma, 99; Viri Galilaei, 55; Vocem iucunditatis, 47; Voce quorum, 74; Vos qui secuti, 75; Vovete et reddite, 19; Vox exultationis, 67, 69; Vultum tuum, 50, 82

other settings of the proper of the mass

Oblique strokes separate plainchant intonations from the beginning of the polyphony.

Edition: Heinrich Isaac: Introiten, ed. M. Just, Cw, lxxi (1960), cxix (1973) [J]

Benedicta semper/Pater filius, seq, 6vv; Benedicta sit/sancta Trinitas, int, 6vv, J; Cibavit eos/ex adipe, int, 6vv, J; Ecce/advenit dominator, int, 6vv, J; Puer natus est nobis/et filius, int, 6vv, J; Resurrexi et adhuc/tecum sum, int, 6vv, J; Rorate/coeli desuper, int, 6vv, J; Salve/sancta parens, int, 6vv, J; Spiritus Domini/replevit orbem, int, 6vv, J; Suscepimus/Deus misericordiam, int, 6vv, J; Victimae paschali/Agnus redemit, seq, 6vv; Viri Galilaei/quid admiramini, int, 6vv, J; Vultum tuum/deprecabuntur, int, 6vv, J

Beatus vir qui timet, tr, 4vv; Benedicta sit/sancta Trinitas, int, 4vv; Botrus Cypri reflorescit, seq, 4vv; Christus resurgens, all, 4vv; Gaude Maria Virgo, tr, 2vv; Gaude Maria Virgo, tr, 4vv; Psallat Ecclesia/Haec domus, seq, 5vv; Hic est discipulus, all, 4vv; Johannes Jesu Christo/Tu eius amore, seq, 4vv; Laetabitur iustus/in Domino, comm, 4vv; Loquebar/de testimoniis, int, 4vv, ed. in PÄMw, xvi (1888/R); O Narcisse fons eloquio, seq, 4vv; O Narcisse promisisse/Sed nunc urbem Augustinam, seq, 4vv; Pascha nostrum/immolatus est, comm, ?4vv, inc.; Sanctissimae virginis/Venerantes hac diem, seq, 4vv, ed. in Owens (1994); Suscepimus/Deus misericordiam, int, 4vv; Udalrici benedici Christi regis, seq, 4vv; Venite ad me omnes, all, 4vv; Venite/benedicti Patris mei, int, 4vv; Viri Galilaei/quid admiramini, int, 4vv, ed. in RhauM, viii (1988); Vultum tuum/deprecabuntur, int, 4vv

motets

Oblique strokes separate upper-voice texts from cantus firmus texts.

Accessit ad pedes Jesu, 4vv, ed. in Just (1991); Alma Redemptoris mater, 4vv, ed. in Just (1963); Angeli archangeli/Comme femme [= O regina nobilissima], 6vv, ed. in EDM, 1st ser., xxxiv (1975); Anima mea liquefacta est, 4vv, ed. in PÄMw, xvi (1888/R); Argentum et aurum, 4vv, ed. in EDM, 1st ser., xxxiii (1960), lxxx (1987); Ave ancilla Trinitatis, 3vv; Ave ancilla Trinitatis, 4vv, ed. in SMd, viii (1992); Ave regina caelorum, 4vv, ed. in SMd, viii (1992); Ave sanctissima Maria, 4vv, ed. in Cw, c (1965)

Christus surrexit, 6vv, ed. in RRMR, xxxv (1980); Cum esset desponsata mater, 4vv, ed. in Kempson; Defensor noster aspice, 4vv, ed. in EDM, 1st ser., xxi (1942/R); Ecce sacerdos magnus, 4vv, ed. in EDM, 1st ser., xxxiii (1960), lxxx (1987); Gaude Dei genitrix virgo, 4vv, ed. in Kempson; Gentile spiritus, 3vv (?textless song); Gratias refero tibi Domine, 3vv; Hodie Deus homo factus, 4vv, inc., ed. in Staehelin (1977); Hodie scietis quia veniet, 5vv, inc.

Illumina oculos meos, 3vv, ed. in RhauM, ix (1989); Imperii proceres (2p. of Sancti Spiritus); In convertendo Dominus, 4vv; Inviolata integra et casta, 5vv, inc., ed. in EDM, 1st ser., lxxx (1987); La mi la sol, la sol la mi [= Rogamus te, piissima Virgo], 4vv, W i; Nil prosunt lacrimae, 4vv, ed. in RhauM, iii (1959); O decus ecclesiae, 5vv, ed. in EDM, 1st ser., xxxiii (1960); O Maria mater Christi, 4vv, ed. in Cw, c (1965); Optime divino/Da pacem/Sacerdos et pontifex, 6vv, ed. in Cw, cxx (1977); Oratio Jeremiae prophetae, 4vv, ed. in RhauM, x (1990)

Palle, palle, 4vv, W i; Parce Domine populo, 4vv, ed. in RhauM, iii (1959); Prophetarum maxime, 4vv, ed. in SMd, viii (1992); Quae est ista quae ascendit, 4vv, ed. in Kempson; Quem tremunt impia, 3vv; Quid retribuam Domino, 4vv; Quid retribuam tibi, O Leo, 3vv, ed. in RhauM, ix (1989); Quis dabit capiti meo aquam? [=Illumina oculos meos], 4vv, W i; Quis dabit pacem populo, 4vv, W i; Recordare Jesu Christe, 5vv; Regina caeli laetare, 5vv, ed. in Cw, c (1965)

Salve regina (i), 4vv, ed. in EDM, 1st ser., lxxvi (1990); Salve regina (ii), 4vv, ed. in EDM, 1st ser., lxxvii (1990); Salve Virgo sanctissima, 4vv; Sancta Maria Virgo, 4vv, ed. in Kempson; Sancti Spiritus assit nobis gratia (2p. Imperii proceres), 4vv, W i; Sive vivamus, sive moriamur [= Ave regina caelorum], 4vv, ed. in Kempson; Sol occasum nesciens, 3vv; Sub tuum praesidium, 4vv, W ii, ed. in SMd, viii (1992); Sustinuimus pacem, see Songs, En l’ombre

Te mane laudum carmine, 4vv, ed. in RhauM, iv (1960); Tota pulchra es, 4vv, ed. in Cw, c (1965); Tristitia vestra, 3vv, ed. in SMd, v (1967), viii (1992); Verbum caro factum est, 4vv, ed. in Kempson; Virgo prudentissima, 4vv; Virgo prudentissima/Virgo prudentissima, 6vv, W ii, ed. in Cuyler (1973)

songs and textless works

Edition: A Florentine Chansonnier from the Time of Lorenzo the Magnificent: Florence, Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale, MS Banco Rari 229, ed. H.M. Brown, MRM, vii (1983) [B]

Adieu fillete de regnon [= Non diva parens], 3vv, W i; A fortune contrent [= Or mauldist soit], 3vv, W i (= ‘Qui tollis’, Missa ‘Chargé de deul’); Amis des que, 3vv, W i, B (= Christe, Missa ‘Chargé de deul’); An buos (?= Au bois), 4vv, W i; Comment poit avoir joye, 3vv (i), W i (= ‘Et incarnatus’, Missa ‘Comment poit’); Comment poit avoir joye, 3vv (ii) (= ‘Pleni’, Missa ‘Comment poit’); De tous biens pleine/Et qui le dira, 2vv; Digau alez donzelles [= Pour vostre amour], 3vv, also attrib. Brumel, W i

En l’ombre [= Nil n’est plaisir], 3–4vv, also attrib. Josquin, W i (unclear whether two sections or two settings); En l’ombre/Une musque/Sustinuimus pacem, 4vv, W i; Et ie boi autant, 4vv, W i, B; Et qui le dira dira, 4vv, W i; Fille, vous avez mal gardé [= Wie sol ich mich; Ave sanctissima], 4vv, W i; Gracieuse plaisante, 3vv, W i (tablature only); Helas que devera, 3vv, W i (after Caron, Helas que pourra); He, logierons nous, 4vv, also attrib. Agricola, W i; J’ay pris amours, 3vv, W i; J’ay pris amours, 4vv (i), W i; J’ay pris amours, 4vv (ii), W i (?section of lost Missa ‘J’ay pris’); Je ne puis vivre a mon aise [= Gaude Virgo], 4vv, W i; Je suys malcontent [= Serviteur suys; Veruntamen universa], 3vv, W i, B

Le serviteur, 3vv, W i, B (after Du Fay); L’ombre, see En l’ombre; Maudit soit cil, 4vv, W i, B; Maudit soyt, 4vv, W i (two sections of popular melody in reverse order); Mon pere m’a donne mari, 4vv, W i, B; Nil n’est plaisir, see En l’ombre; O Venus bant, 3vv, W i; Par ung chies do cure, 4vv, W i (not a Mass excerpt); Par ung jour de matinee [= Hab mich lieb], 4vv, W i; Pour vous plaisiers [= Parcere prostratis], 4vv, W i; Serviteur suis, see Je suys malcontent; Tart ara, 3vv, W i (after Molinet)

A la battaglia, 4vv, W ii, ed. in EDM, 1st ser., xxxiv (1975); Berricuocoli, donne, 3vv, lost; Che fai tu, Eco, lost; Corri fortuna, 4vv, W i; Donna, di dentro/Fortuna d’un gran tempo, 4vv, W i, B; Fammi una gratia, Amore, 3vv, W i; Fortuna/[Bruder Conrat], 4vv, W i; Fortuna desperata, 3vv, W i (Fortuna tenor in discantus); Fortuna desperata (‘Sanctus’), 4vv (canonic); Fortuna desperata in mi, 3vv (i), W i (tablature only); Fortuna desperata/Sancte Petre, 5vv; Hor’è di maggio, 4vv, inc., W i, W ii; Gracias a vos donzella (= Benedictus, Missa ‘Comme femme’)

La Martinella, 3vv, W i, B (after Martini); La Morra [= Dona gentile; Elaes], 3vv, W i, B; La più vaga et più bella, 3vv, W i; La Spagna, 3vv, ed. in EDM, 1st ser., xxxii (1956) (= Agnus II, Missa ‘La Spagna’); Lasso, quel ch’altri fugge, 2vv (inc.), W i; Lieto et contento amore, 3vv, W i; Nè più bella di queste, 4vv, W i; Palle, palle, see motets; Questo mostrarsi adirata, 3vv, W i; Sempre giro piangendo, 3vv, W i; Un di lieto giammai, 3vv, W i; Vieni a me, peccatore, lost

Ach hertzigs K., 4vv, W i; Ach, was will doch mein Hertz damit, 4vv, W i; Ain frewlich Wesen, 4vv, W i; Al mein Mut [= O sanctissima], 3vv, W i; Bruder Conrat, see Fortuna/[Bruder Conrat], Frater Conradus; Christ ist erstanden, 4vv, W i (also attrib. Stoltzer); Christus surrexit, 6vv, see motets; Der Hundt, 3vv, W ii (inc.), ed. in NM, liii (1965); Der Welte Fundt, 4vv, W i; Die zechen Bot, see Süsser Vater; Dich Mutter Gottes, see Es wolt ein Meydlein; Es het ein Baur ein Töchterlein, 4vv, W i; Es wolt ein Meydlein grasen gan [= Dich Mutter Gottes], 4vv, W i

Frater Conradus, 4vv, W i (tablature; = Ag III, Missa carminum); Greiner, Zancker, Schnöpffitzer, 4vv, W i; Hab mich lieb, see Par ung jour; Ich stund an einem Morgen, 4vv, W i; In Gottes Namen faren wir, 4vv (i), W i; In Gottes Namen [= Dies sind die hei’gen zehn Gebot], 4vv (ii), W ii; In meinem Sinn, 3vv, W i (tablature only); In meinem Sinn, 4vv (i), W i, 81; In meinem Sinn, 4vv (ii), W i, 82; Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen [= Herr got las dich], 4vv (i), W i; Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen, 4vv (ii), W ii (canonic; = Christe II, Missa carminum); Kein Frewd hab ich uff Erd, 4vv, W i

Las rauschen, 4vv, W i; Maria Jungkfrow hochgeborn, 4vv, W ii; Mein Freud allein, 4vv, W i; Mein Müterlein, 4vv, W i; Mich wundert hart, 4vv, W i; O weiblich Art, 4vv, W i; O werdes Glück, 4vv, W i; Süsser Vater, Herre Got (Die zehn Gebot), 3vv, W i; Süsser Vater, Herre Got (Die zehn Gebot), 4vv, W i; Wann ich des Morgens, 4vv, W i; Was frewet mich, 4vv, W i; Wolauff gut Gsell, 3vv, W i (= ‘Qui tollis’, Missa ‘Comment poit’); Zart lipste Frucht, 4vv, W i; Zwischen Perg und tieffe Tal, 4vv, W i

Carmen in Fa, 3vv, W i (= ‘Pleni’, Missa ‘Lalahe’); Carmen in Fa, 4vv, W i; Decem praecepta, see Süsser vater; Gentile spiritus, see motets; Gratias accepistis (= ‘Ad te clamamus’, Salve regina (ii)); La la hö hö [= Allahoy], 4vv, W i (inc.), ed. in EDM, 1st ser., lxxviii (1991); La mi la sol, see motets; My my, 3vv, W i, B; Thysis (=‘Ad te clamamus’, Salve regina (ii))

6 untitled textless works, 3vv, 5 in W i, 4 in B; 2 untitled textless works, 4vv, W i, 1 in B; untitled textless work, 5vv, W i, B; textless fragments, see Picker (1991)

example, 3vv, in Wilfflingseder, Erotemata (1563), W i; example, 4vv, in H. Faber, Introductio (1550), W i

doubtful works

Missa ‘J’ay pris Amours’, 4vv, not the lost mass; Missa ‘Lalahe’, 4vv, incorporates authentic sections of song La la hö hö; Missa ‘Rosina’, ?4vv, inc.; Missa [sine nomine], 4vv, inc.; Missa de Beata Virgine, 3vv, ?by Senfl; Missa de Beata Virgine, 4vv (ii), incorporates authentic sections of (i)

Proper cycle de sancta cruce, 4vv: Nos autem, int; Illuminet vultum, all; Dulce lignum, seq; Nos autem, comm; D-Mbs Mus.ms.3936 (dated 1573)

Benedic anima mea Domino, 4vv, ?by Eustachius de Monte Regali; Credidi propter quod, 4vv, ?by Eustachius de Monte Regali; Discubuit Jesus, ?4vv, inc.; Judaea et Jerusalem, 4vv, attrib. Isaac in LEu Thomaskirche 51, Z 94, attrib. Obrecht in Dlb 1/D/505, ?by neither; Salve regina, 4vv (iii); Si dormiero, 3vv, also attrib. Agricola, Finck, ?Guretzsch, La Rue, ?by La Rue

Die Prunlein, die da vliessen, 3vv, ?by Hofhaimer; Erkennen thu mein traurigs Gmüt, 4vv, W i; Erst weis ich was die Liebe ist [= Carmen], 3vv, W i, ?by Hofhaimer; Fortuna desperata in mi, 3vv (ii), W i; Freundtlich und mild, 4vv, W i; Het es al ghedaen, 3vv, B, ?by Barle; Kein Ding auff Erd, 4vv (i), W i, ?by Grefinger; Les biens d'amore (= Des biens d’Amours), 3vv, W ii, B, ?by Martini

Mich wundert hart, 4vv, W i, ?by Senfl; Morte che fai?, 3vv, attrib. Isaac only in E-SE s.s.; Pour mieux valoir [= Come hier], 3vv, B, ?by Robinet; Pover me mischin dolente, 4vv, W i, attrib. ‘Ic’ ?= Ycart; Questo mostrarsi lieto, 3vv; Se io te ò dato l’anima, 4vv, W i, attrib. ‘Ic’ ?= Ycart; Wolauff, wolauff, jung und alt, 4vv, adapted by Senfl from Isaac’s Ave ancilla Trinitatis, see Cummings (1981); untitled textless work, 4vv, W i, attrib. ‘Ic’ ?= Ycart

misattributed works

Missa ‘O Österreich’‘', 4vv, not by Isaac; Missa paschalis, 3vv, not by Isaac; Missa solemnis, 3vv, not by Isaac; Missa summa, 3vv, not by Isaac

Ave ancilla Trinitatis [= Caecus non iudicat; Gaudent in caelis; etc.], 3vv, by Agricola; Erubescat Judaeus, 4vv, by Senfl; Nisi tu, Domine, 4vv, anon. in sources; O sacrum convivium, 4vv, anon. in sources; Qui Paraclitus diceris, 6vv, by A. Rener; Salve regina, 4vv (iv), attrib. ‘Ar. Fer.’ (?Arnold Fleron); Si dedero, 3vv, by Agricola; Spiritus Domini replevit, 4vv, by Mouton; Spiritus Sanctus in te descendet, 6vv, ed. in Kempson, by Senfl; Tulerunt Dominum meum, 4vv, also attrib. Josquin, ‘Pre Michael de Ver[ona]’ (M. Pesenti), ?by Pesenti; Virgo prudentissima, 4vv, by Josquin

Adieu mes amours, 4vv, W i, by Josquin; Ami souffre, 3vv, W ii, attrib. Isaac in I-Fn Magl.XIX.117, anon. in 1529⁴, attrib. Le Heurteur and Moulu in 1553²², attrib. Sermisy and Moulu in 1578¹⁴, not by Isaac; Beclag dich nit, 4vv, W i, by Hagenbach; Carmen, 4vv, W ii, Busnoys’ Vostre beauté/Vous marchez; Ein frewlich Wesen, 3vv, W i, by Barbireau; Kein Ding auff Erd, 4vv (ii), W i, by Senfl; La Martinella, 3vv (i), B, no.13, by Martini (? Ct in E-SE s.s. by Isaac); La Martinella [= Vive vive], 3vv (ii), B, no.45, by Martini; La stanghetta [= Ortus de caelo], 3vv, by Weerbeke; Que vous madame/In pace, 3vv, by Josquin; T’meiskin was jonck, 4vv, W i, also attrib. Obrecht and Japart, not by Isaac; Vergangen ist mir Glück, 4vv, by Hagenbach22

II. Sufism and popular Islam

BIBLIOGRAPHY

ADB (O. Kade)

Grove6 (M. Staehelin)

MGG1 (H. Albrecht)

PirrottaDO

SennMT

StrohmR

Vander StraetenMPB

H. Glarean: Dodecachordon (Basle, 1547/R; Eng. trans., MSD, vi, 1965)

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A. Thürlings: ‘Heinrich Isaac in Augsburg (?) und Konstanz’, suppl. 1 to DTB, v, Jg.iii/2 (1903/R), p.xcix

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A. Thürlings: ‘Innsbruck ich muss dich lassen (Heinrich Isaac und Cosmas Alder)’, Festschrift zum zweiten Kongress der Internationalen Musik-Gesellschaft (Basle, 1906), 54–86

G. Eisenring: Zur Geschichte des mehrstimmigen Proprium Missaebis um 1560 (Düsseldorf, 1913)

P. Wagner: Geschichte der Messe (Leipzig, 1913/R)

H.J. Moser: Paul Hofhaimer (Stuttgart and Berlin, 1929, enlarged 2/1965)

O. zur Nedden: ‘Zur Musikgeschichte von Konstanz um 1500’, ZMw, xii (1929–30), 449–58

P. Blaschke: ‘Der Choral in Heinrich Isaacs Choralis Constantinus’, KJb, xxvi (1931), 32–50

H. Schweiger: ‘Archivalische Notizen zur Hofkantorei Maximilians I.’, ZMw, xiv (1931–2), 363–74

H. Birtner: ‘Heinrich Isaac und die deutsche Musik’, ZMw, xvii (1935), 61 only

C.W. Fox: ‘Ein fröhlich Wesen: the Career of a German Song in the Sixteenth Century’, PAMS 1937, 56–74

F. Ghisi: I canti carnascialeschi nelle fonti musicali del XV e XVI secolo (Florence, 1937/R)

H. Osthoff: Die Niederländer und das deutsche Lied, 1400–1640 (Berlin, 1938/R)

B. Becherini: ‘Relazioni di musici fiamminghi con la corte dei Medici’, La Rinascita, iv (1941), 84–112

B. Becherini: ‘Rapprentazione di “S. Giovanni e Paolo” del Magnifico Lorenzo de Medici’, Musica d’oggi, xxiv (1942), 155

H. Birtner: ‘Sieben Messen von Ludwig Senfl’, AMf, vii (1942), 40–64

F. Ghisi: ‘Le musiche di Isaac per il “San Giovanni e Paolo” di Lorenzo il Magnifico’, RaM, xvi (1943), 264–73

R. Lunelli: ‘Contributi trentini alle relazioni musicali fra l'Italia e la Germania del Rinascimento’, AcM, xxi (1949), 41–70

L.E. Cuyler: ‘The Sequences of Isaac’s Choralis Constantinus’, JAMS, iii (1950), 3–16

W. Lipphardt: Die Geschichte des mehrstimmigen Proprium Missae (Heidelberg, 1950)

R. Wagner: Die Choralverarbeitung in Heinrich Isaacs Offizienwerk ‘Choralis Constantinus’: eine stilanalytische Untersuchung (diss., U. of Munich, 1950)

W. Heinz: Isaacs und Senfls Propriums-Kompositionen in Handschriften der Bayerischen Staatsbibliothek München (diss., U. of Berlin, 1952)

A. Krings: ‘Zu Heinrich Isaacs Missa Virgo prudentissima 6 voc.’, KJb, xxxvi (1952), 13–21

B. Becherini: ‘La canzone “Alla battaglia” di Henricus Isac’, RBM, vii (1953), 5–25

W. Gerstenberg: Review of Heinrich Isaac: Choralis Constantinus: Book III, ed. L. Cuyler (Ann Arbor, 1950), Mf, vii (1954), 116–19

R. Machold: Heinrich Isaak: Darstellung seiner Kompositionstechnik an Hand der choral-polyphon alternierenden Messen (diss., U. of Munich, 1954)

L. Parigi: Laurentiana: Lorenzo dei Medici, cultore della musica (Florence, 1954)

G.R. Pätzig: Liturgische Grundlagen und handschriftliche Überlieferung von Heinrich Isaacs ‘Choralis Constantinus’ (diss., U. of Tübingen, 1956)

O. Wessely: ‘Archivalische Beiträge zur Musikgeschichte des maximilianischen Hofes’, SMw, xxiii (1956), 79–134

F. Feldmann: ‘Divergierende Überlieferungen in Isaacs “Petrucci-Messen”’, CHM, ii (1956–7), 203–25

H.-J. Rothe: Alte deutsche Volkslieder und ihre Bearbeitungen durch Isaac, Senfl und Othmayr (diss., U. of Leipzig, 1957)

M. Just: Studien zu Heinrich Isaacs Motetten (diss., U. of Tübingen, 1960)

E.R. Lerner: ‘The “German” Works of Alexander Agricola’, MQ, xlvi (1960), 56–66

F.A. D’Accone: ‘The Singers of San Giovanni in Florence during the 15th Century’, JAMS, xiv (1961), 307–58

M. Just: ‘Ysaac de manu sua’, GfMKB: Kassel 1962, 112

H.J. Moser: Missae Carminum (Wolfenbüttel, 1962)

G.-R. Pätzig: ‘Heinrich Isaacs “Choralis Constantinus”: eine posthume Werksammlung’, GfMKB: Kassel 1962, 114–18

B. Becherini: ‘Isaccó Argiropulo ed Henricus Yzac’, RBM, xvii (1963), 11–20

F. D’Accone: ‘Heinrich Isaac in Florence: New and Unpublished Documents’, MQ, xlix (1963), 464–83

M. Just: ‘Heinrich Isaacs Motetten in italienischen Quellen’, AnMc, no.1 (1963), 1–19

C. Sartori: ‘Henricus Isaac o Isaaco Argiropulo?’, CHM, iii (1962–3), 177–86

N. Bridgman: La vie musicale au Quattrocento et jusqu’à la naissance du madrigal (1400–1530) (Paris, 1964)

G.-R. Pätzig: ‘Das Chorbuch Mus.ms.40024 der Deutschen Staatsbibliothek Berlin: eine wichtige Quelle zum Schaffen Isaacs aus der Hand Leonhard Pämingers’, Festschrift Walter Gerstenberg, ed. G. von Dadelsen and A. Holschneider (Wolfenbüttel, 1964), 122–42

F. Ghisi: ‘Alcune note in margine alle fonti italiane profane intonate da Arrigo il Tedesco (Isaac)’, AnMc, no.2 (1965), 1

F. D’Accone: ‘Alessandro Coppini and Bartolomeo degli Organi: Two Florentine Composers of the Renaissance’, AnMc, no.4 (1967), 38–76

M. Bente: Neue Wege der Quellenkritik und die Biographie Ludwig Senfls (Wiesbaden, 1968)

W. Elders: Studien zur Symbolik in der Musik der alten Niederländer (Bilthoven, 1968)

L.E. Cuyler: ‘Georg Rhaw’s Opus decem missarum, 1541’, Renaissance-muziek 1400–1600: donum natalicium René Bernard Lenaerts, ed. J. Robijns and others (Leuven, 1969), 71–81

W.P. Mahrt: The ‘Missae ad Organum’ of Heinrich Isaac (diss., Stanford U., 1969)

W. Osthoff: Theatergesang und darstellende Musik in der italienischen Renaissance (15. und 16. Jahrhundert) (Tutzing, 1969)

L. Cuyler: ‘“Une Mousse [Musque or Musicque] de Biscaye”; Mass Model for Isaac and Josquin’, Abstracts of Papers, AMS XXXVI: Toronto 1970, 24

D. Kämper: Studien zur instrumentalen Ensemblemusik des 16. Jahrhunderts in Italien, AnMc, no.10 (1970)

W.P. Mahrt: ‘Alternatim Performance in Heinrich Isaac’s Masses’, Abstracts of Papers, AMS XXXVI: Toronto 1970, 40 only

S. Novack: ‘Fusion of Design and Tonal Order in Mass and Motet: Josquin Desprez and Heinrich Isaac’, Music Forum, ii (1970), 187–263

F. Ghisi: Studi e testi di musica italiana dall’Ars Nova a Carissimi (Bologna, 1971)

L. Cuyler: The Emperor Maximilian I and Music (London, 1973)

A.W. Atlas: ‘Heinrich Isaac's Palle, palle: a New Interpretation’, AnMc, no.11 (1974), 17–25

A. Atlas: ‘A Note on Isaac's Quis dabit capiti meo aquam’, JAMS, xxvii (1974), 103–10 [see M. Staehelin, JAMS, xxviii (1975), 160 only; A. Atlas, JAMS, xxviii (1975), 565–6]

P. Gossett: ‘The Mensural System and the Choralis Constantinus’, Studies in Renaissance and Baroque Music in Honor of Arthur Mendel, ed. R.L. Marshall (Kassel and Hackensack, NJ, 1974), 71–107

T. Noblitt: ‘Contrafacta in Isaac’s Missae Wohlauf, Gesell, von hinnen’, AcM, xlvi (1974), 208–16

T. Noblitt: ‘Die Datierung der Handschrift Mus.ms.3154 der Staatsbibliothek München’, Mf, xxvii (1974), 36–56

G. Reese: ‘An Editorial Problem in a Mass by Heinrich Isaac (c.1450–1517): Sanctus and Benedictus from Missa Misericordias Domini’, Notations and Editions: a Book in Honor of Louise Cuyler, ed. E. Borroff (Dubuque, IA, 1974), 33–42

M. Just: Der Mensuralkodex Mus.ms.40021 der Staatsbibliothek Preussischer Kulturbesitz Berlin (Tutzing, 1975)

R. Murányi: ‘Die Isaac-Offizien der Bartfelder Sammlung’, SMH, xvii (1975), 315–46

P. Cavanaugh: ‘Early Sixteenth Century Cycles of Polyphonic Mass Propers: an Evolutionary Process or the Result of Liturgical Reforms?’, AcM, xlviii (1976), 151–65

Formen und Probleme der Überlieferung mehrstimmiger Musik im Zeitalter Josquins Desprez: Wolfenbüttel 1976

R. Taruskin: ‘Settling an Old Score: a Note on Contrafactum in Isaac's Lorenzo Lament’, CMc, xxi (1976), 83–92

G. Gruber: ‘Beginn der Neuzeit’, Musikgeschichte Österreichs, ed. R. Flotzinger and G. Gruber, i (Graz, 1977–9), 173–227; (Vienna, 2/1995), 169–214

M. Staehelin: Die Messen Heinrich Isaacs (Berne, 1977); see also review by R. Strohm, ML, lx (1979), 458–61

L. Finscher: ‘Zum Verhältnis von Imitationstechnik und Textbehandlung im Zeitalter Josquins’, Renaissance-Studien: Helmuth Osthoff zum 80. Geburtstag, ed. L. Finscher (Tutzing, 1979), 57–72

M. Schuler: ‘Zur Überlieferung des Choralis Constantinus von Heinrich Isaac’, AMw, xxxvi (1979), 68–76, 146–54

H.J. Marx: ‘Neues zur Tabulatur-Handschrift St. Gallen, Stiftsbibliothek, Cod.530’, AMw, xxxvii (1980), 264–91

A.M. Cummings: ‘Bemerkungen zu Isaacs Motette Ave ancilla Trinitatis und Senfls Lied Wohlauf, wohlauf’, Mf, xxxiv (1981), 180–82

I. Fenlon, ed.: Music in Medieval and Early Modern Europe (Cambridge, 1981) [incl. W. Edwards: ‘Songs without Words by Josquin and his Contemporaries’, 79–91; L. Litterick: ‘On Italian Instrumental Ensemble Music in the Late Fifteenth Century’, 117–30]

S.A. Funkhouser: Heinrich Isaac and Number Symbolism: an Exegesis of Commemorative Motets Dedicated to Lorenzo de’ Medici and Maximilian I (diss., U. of Missouri, 1981)

J.J. Gallucci: Introduction to Florentine Festival Music, 1480–1520, RRMR, xl (1981)

H.M. Brown: Introduction to A Florentine Chansonnier from the Time of Lorenzo the Magnificent: Florence, Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale, MS Banco Rari 229, MRM, vii (1983)

T.J. McGee: ‘Vocal Music for a Renaissance Military Ceremony’, American Choral Review, xxv (1983), 3–11

T.J. McGee: ‘Alla battaglia: Music and Ceremony in Fifteenth-Century Florence’, JAMS, xxxvi (1983), 287–302

F. Sternfeld: ‘Poliziano, Isaac, Festa: Rhetorical Repetition’, Firenze e la Toscana dei Medici nell’Europa del ’500, ed. N. Pirrotta (Florence, 1983), 549–64

H. Hell: ‘Doch ein Bildnis Heinrich Isaacs’, SMw, xxxvi (1985), 7–16

Musik und Tanz zur Zeit Kaiser Maximilian I.: Innsbruck 1989

M. Staehelin: ‘Heinrich Isaac und die Frühgeschichte des Liedes Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen’, Liedstudien: Wolfgang Osthoff zum 60. Geburtstag, ed. M. Just and R. Wiesend (Tutzing, 1989), 107–19

L. Finscher, ed.: Die Musik des 15. und 16. Jahrhunderts, Neues Handbuch der Musikwissenschaft, iii (Laaber, 1989–90)

T. Karp: ‘Some Chant Models for Isaac's Choralis Constantinus’, Beyond the Moon: Festschrift Luther Dittmer, ed. B. Gillingham and P. Merkley (Ottawa, 1990), 322–49

F. Heidelberger, W. Osthoff and R. Wiesend, eds.: Von Isaac bis Bach: Festschrift Martin Just (Kassel, 1991) [incl. W. Elders: ‘Zur Frage der Vorlage von Isaacs Messe La mi la sol oder O praeclara’, 9–13; F. Krummacher: ‘Liedweise und Kontrapunkt: Beobachtungen an Isaacs Missa carminum’, 15–25; M. Staehelin and E. Neubauer, ‘Türkische Derwischmusik bei Heinrich Isaac’, 27–39]

M. Just: ‘Anschaulichkeit und Ausdruck in der Motette des späten 15. Jahrhunderts’, Die Motette: Beiträge zu ihrer Gattungsgeschichte, ed. H. Schneider (Mainz, 1991), 75–104

M. Picker: Henricus Isaac: a Guide to Research (New York, 1991)

A.M. Cummings: The Politicized Muse: Music for Medici Festivals, 1512–1537 (Princeton, NJ, 1992)

La musica a Firenze al tempo di Lorenzo il Magnifico: Florence 1992

J. Banks: The Motet as a Formal Type in Northern Italy, ca.1500 (New York, 1993)

J. Heidrich: Die deutschen Chorbücher aus der Hofkapelle Friedrichs des Weisen (Baden-Baden, 1993)

A. Emmerling: Studien zur mehrstimmigen Sequenz des deutschen Sprachraums im 15. und 16. Jahrhundert (Kassel, 1994)

J. Kmetz, ed.: Music in the German Renaissance (Cambridge, 1994) [incl. J.A. Owens: ‘An Isaac Autograph’, 27–53; M. Just: ‘Polyphony based on Chant in a Late Fifteenth-Century German Manuscript’, 129–51; M. Staehelin: ‘The Constitution of the Fifteenth-Century German Tenor Lied: Drafting the History of a Musical Genre’, 174–92]

M. Picker: ‘Isaac in Flanders: the Early Works of Henricus Isaac’, From Ciconia to Sweelinck: donum natalicium Willem Elders, ed. A. Clement and E. Jas (Amsterdam, 1994), 153–65

Literatur, Musik und Kunst im Übergang vom Mittelalter zur Neuzeit: Gottingen 1989–92, ed. H. Boockmann and others (Göttingen, 1995)

B.J. Blackburn: ‘Lorenzo de' Medici, a Lost Isaac Manuscript, and the Venetian Ambassador’, Musica Franca: Essays in Honor of Frank A. D’Accone, ed. I. Alm, A. McLamore and C. Reardon (Stuyvesant, NY, 1996), 19–44

D. Fallows: Introduction to The Songbook of Fridolin Sicher (around 1515): Sankt Gallen, Stiftsbibliothek Cod.Sang.461 (Peer, 1996) [facs.]

M. Steib: ‘A Composer Looks at his Model: Polyphonic Borrowing in Masses from the Late Fifteenth Century’, TVNM, xlvi (1996), 5–41

W. Salmen and R. Gstrein, eds.: Heinrich Isaac und Paul Hofhaimer im Umfeld von Kaiser Maximilian I. (Innsbruck, 1997) [incl. R. Strohm: ‘Heinrich Isaac und die Musik in Deutschland vor 1492’, 21–41; A. Brinzing: ‘Zum Problem textloser Überlieferung in deutschen Quellen aus der ersten Hälfte des 16. Jahrhunderts’, 43–56; D. Crawford: ‘Printed Liturgical Books in Isaac's Circle’, 57–70; M. Schuler: ‘Zur liturgischen Musikpraxis am Konstanzer Dom um 1500’, 71–80; K. Polk: ‘Style and Performance Practice in Ensemble Instrumental Music in Germany c1500’, 143–53; J. Heidrich: ‘Heinrich Isaac in Torgau?’, 155–68; M. Teramoto: ‘Die Psalmmotetten von Heinrich Isaac’, 179–87; V. Ivanoff: ‘Isaac-Bearbeitungen in einer venezianischen Lautentabulatur um 1500’, 189–202; M. Staehelin: ‘Heinrich Isaacs Palle-Satz und die Tradition der Wappenmotette’, 217–26; C. Maas: ‘Isaac und Obrecht: eine Doppelzuschreibung’, 227–34; E. Kubitschek: ‘Die Ornamentik in der Orgelmusik der Umgebung von Paul Hofhaimer und Heinrich Isaak’, 235–44; W. Salmen: ‘Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen: die Wandlungen einer popularen Hofweise vom 16. zum 20. Jahrhundert’, 245–53; A. Lindmayr-Brandl: ‘Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen: eine Rezeptionsgeschichte des Isaakschen Liedsatzes’, 255–79; K. Drexel: ‘Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen: zur nationalsozialistischen Rezeption des “Innsbruckliedes”’, 281–6; M. Fink: ‘Johann Nepomuk Davids Partita Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen als Beispiel der Politisierung einer Hofweise’, 287–91]

E. Kempson: The Motets of Henricus Isaac (c.1450-1517) (diss., U. of London, 1998)

M. Picker: ‘Isaac and Fortuna desperata’, Antoine Busnoys: Method, Meaning and Context in Late Medieval Music, ed. P. Higgins (Oxford, forthcoming)

M. Picker: ‘Liber selectarum cantionum (Augsburg: Grimm & Wirsung, 1520): a Neglected Monument of Renaissance Music and Music Printing’ (forthcoming)

Isaac ben Moses.

See Duran, Profiat.

Isaack [Isaac], Bartholomew

(bap. Windsor, 22 Sept 1661; bur. London, 9 Oct 1709). English singer, organist and composer. He was the son of William Isaack, sexton and later verger of St George's Chapel, Windsor. He was a choirboy in the Chapel Royal from at least 18 May 1674 to autumn 1676, when his voice broke and he was discharged. He was appointed organist of St John's College, Oxford, on 14 July 1682, and became a vicar-choral of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, in 1684. He joined the choir of St Patrick's Cathedral the following year, but was dismissed in 1687 for neglect; he enlisted the support of James II, claiming that he had become a Catholic, but to no avail. Nothing more is known of him for certain until 26 July 1705, when he was appointed organist of St Saviour, Southwark (now Southwark Cathedral), although he was probably the ‘Isaac’ who applied unsuccessfully for posts in other London churches in June 1702 and March 1705. He wrote some songs for the semi-opera The British Enchanters, put on in February 1706 at the Haymarket Theatre. On his death he was succeeded at St Saviour by his nephew William.

Isaack was a minor but competent follower of Purcell. His small surviving output consists of songs, anthems and Anglican chants, as well as a ground in A minor for three violins and continuo, closely modelled on Purcell's Three Parts upon a Ground z731. He was confused until recently with his brother William (1650–1703), a Windsor and Eton choirman who copied the huge collection of Restoration church music in the manuscript GB-Cfm Mu.117 as well as a number of scores of large-scale works by Blow and Purcell. Peter Isaack (d 1694), probably another brother, was a Chapel Royal choirboy who went on to obtain cathedral posts in Dublin (1672 and 1692) and Salisbury (1688). It is not known whether the Windsor Isaacks were related to the London dancer and dancing-master Mr Isaac.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

AshbeeR, i, v

BDA

BDECM

C.L. Day and E.B. Murrie: English Song-Books 1651–1702: a Bibliography (London, 1940)

B. Wood: ‘A Note on Two Cambridge Manuscripts and their Copyists’, ML, lvi (1975), 308–12

D. Dawe: Organists of the City of London 1666–1850 (Padstow, 1983)

P. Holman: ‘Bartholomew Isaack and “Mr Isaack” of Eton’, MT, cxxviii (1987), 381–5

W.H. Grindle: Irish Cathedral Music (Belfast, 1989)

H.W. Shaw: The Succession of Organists of the Chapel Royal and the Cathedrals of England and Wales from c.1538 (Oxford, 1991)

I. Spink: Restoration Cathedral Music (Oxford, 1995)

PETER HOLMAN

Isaaco, Isacchino.

See Massarano, Isacchino.

Isaacs, Gregory [Cool Ruler]

(b Kingston, Jamaica, 1951). Jamaican reggae singer and songwriter. He began his career as part of the Concordes, before making his first solo recording for Edward Seaga’s WIRL Records. In 1973 he formed his own labels Cash and Carry and African Museum but continued to record for producers such as Gussie Clarke, Niney the Observer, Alvin Ranglin, Phil Pratt, Bobby Digital and Stevie and Clevie. While the majority of Isaacs’ original material is in a romantic rock style, sung with his supple croon and studded with suggestively emetic groans, occasionally he has also recorded Rasta- and politically orientated material. His albums from the late 1970s are considered to be among reggae’s finest, particularly In Person (Trojan, 1975), Extra Classic (Conflict, 1977), Mr Isaacs (Cash and Carry, 1977) and Cool Ruler (Virgin, 1978). In 1980 he appeared in the film Rockers which was filmed in Kingston.

His first release for Island Records, Night Nurse (1982), became an international hit and as the 1980s progressed he continued to enjoy success, notably with Rumours, although his widely publicized problems with drugs were taking their toll on his voice. He continued to record with the digitally-produced rhythms of the 1990s but his previously mellifluous voice sounded cracked and gritty. Isaacs is best known as reggae’s most prolific and controversial figure; he has recorded over 300 albums and many singles and served a number of sentences in Jamaica’s General Penitentiary.

ROGER STEFFENS

Isaacs, Mark

(b London, 22 June 1958). Australian composer, pianist and conductor. After studies in classical music and jazz he was awarded the Don Banks Fellowship (1984) and went to the USA for further study. His CD Encounters was recorded in New York with jazz musicians Dave Holland and Roy Haynes on a subsequent trip in 1988 but was not issued until 1995. In 1994 Isaacs played the solo part in the first performance of Litany (1991) with the St Petersburg State SO. In 1996 he won a prize at the Tokyo International Competition for Chamber Music Composition, was awarded a two-year fellowship by the Australia Council and received the MMus from the Eastman School of Music. Isaacs has received commissions from the Australian Chamber Orchestra, Australia Ensemble, the Sydney String Quartet and the Sydney Metropolitan Opera Company, among others. He has conducted major orchestras in Australia and is the founder of Grace Recordings. While his classical works reflect his interest in jazz, his jazz compositions and performances reflect classical influences. His evocative works display a keen sense of lyricism.

WORKS

(selective list)

Op: Beach Dreaming, 1990

Orch: Reverie, pf, orch, 1972; 4 Glimpses, 1982; Moving Pictures, pf, orch, 1982; Ballade, 1985; Litany, pf, orch, 1991; Scherzo, small orch, 1995; Three Excursions, concert band, str, 1999

Chbr and solo inst: Interlude, fl, pf, 1976; Lamente, ob, pf, 1978; Fantasy, vn, pf, 1979; Ha Laitsun, 2 pf, 1981; Str Qt, 1984; So It Does, 6 pfmrs, 1985; Memoirs, perc, pf, 1986; Preludes, pf, 1986; Visitation, pf, 1986; Cantilena, b cl, pf, 1987, version for b cl, str, 1987; Piece, fl, str, 1987; Burlesque Miniatures, str qt, 1988; Variations, fl, cl, vc, 1988; Purple Prayer, jazz qt, str, 1989; Lyric Caprice, vc, pf, 1993; Threnody, vn, vc, 1993; Scherzo, wind qnt, 1998

Choral: I Am, 1984; The Burning Thread, 1997

Big band: Three to Go, 1974; Ballade, 1976; D’Urbeville House, 1976; Sad Girl, 1977

selected recordings

Originals (1981, BAT 2071); Preludes (1987, JHR 2003); For Sure (1993, ABC/EMI 4796102); Encounters (1995), ABC/Polygram 846 220); The Elements (1996, ABC/EMI 4798272); On Reflection (1998, Grace Recordings 002)

RUTH LEE MARTIN

Isabella Leonarda [Leonardi, Anna Isabella]

(b Novara, 6 Sept 1620; d Novara,25 Feb 1704). Italian composer. Christened Anna Isabella Leonardi, she came from a prominent Novarese family. In 1636 she entered the Collegio di S Orsola, an Ursuline convent, where she remained for the rest of her life. A document of 1658 identifies her as music instructor as well as ‘mother and clerk’ for her congregation. By 1676 she had attained the rank of mother superior and by 1693 madre vicaria; in her last years she served as ‘counsellor’. She may have studied with Gasparo Casati (maestro di cappella of Novara Cathedral, 1635–41), who included two of her compositions in his Terzo libro di sacri concenti (RISM 1640³). Cotta called her ‘la Musa novarese’ and printed a sonnet by A. Saminiati Lucchese, comparing her musical talent to the military prowess of Emperor Leopold I.

Leonarda was a skilful, versatile composer whose approximately 200 compositions include examples of nearly every sacred genre. In her concerted masses and psalm settings, sections for full chorus alternate with solo passages and instrumental ritornellos. Her sacred non-liturgical works frequently have intensely emotional Latin texts, some of which may have been written by Leonarda herself. Four-voice compositions in this genre are conservative: imitative writing is pervasive and the organ provides the only instrumental accompaniment. Works for one to three voices are more modern, closely resembling chamber cantatas in form and melodic style. Many employ instrumental ritornellos and vocal refrains. In her numerous solo motets the sensuous lyricism of the arias balances the intense dramatic expression of the recitatives. Some arias are strophic, but most employ forms utilizing varied repetition. The solo motets reveal the composer at her most expressive: word-painting abounds, and occasional Neapolitan 6ths, augmented 6ths and diminished 7ths enrich the harmonic vocabulary. The vocal writing shows occasional flashes of coloratura, particularly in concluding ‘Alleluia’ sections.

Leonarda’s instrumental works (op.16, 1693) are apparently the earliest published sonatas by a woman. Her sonata for solo violin and continuo is one of her most advanced works harmonically, yet it is technically conservative. In five of the ensemble sonatas she varies the texture by giving solo passages to each of the string instruments.

WORKS

Editions:Isabella Leonarda: Selected Compositions, ed. S. Carter, RRMBE, lix (1988)Solo Motets from the Seventeenth Century, iv-v; Novara I-II (New York, 1987–8) [facs. with introduction by A. Schnoebelen] [S i, ii]

all with organ part; published in Bologna unless otherwise stated

Motetti … libro primo, 3vv, op.2 (Milan, 1665), lost [cited in FétisB; possibly repr. from earlier edn]

[18] Sacri concenti, 1–4vv, 2 vn, op.3 (Milan, 1670)

Messa e [10] salmi, concertati, & a cappella con istromenti ad libitum, 4vv, 2 vn, op.4 (Milan, 1674)

[12] Motetti, 1v, 2 vn, op.6 (Venice, 1676)

[12] Mottetti … con le litanie della Beata Vergine, 1–4vv, 2 vn, op.7 (1677)

Vespro a cappella della Beata Vergine e [11] motetti concertati, 1–4vv, op.8 (1678)

[11] Motetti con le litanie della Beata Vergine, 4vv, op.10 (Milan, 1684)

[12] Motetti, 1v, op.11 (1684), S i

[14] Motetti, 1v, op.12 (Milan, 1686), S i

[12] Motetti, 1–3vv, 2 vn, op.13 (1687)

[10] Motetti, 1v, op.14 (1687), S ii

[11] Motetti, 1v, op.15 (1690), S, ii

[12] Sonate, a 1–4, op.16 (1693)

[12] Motetti, 1v, op.17 (1695), S ii

[3] Messe concertate con stromenti, & [3] motetti, 1–4vv, 2 vn, vle/theorbo, op.18 (1696)

[10] Salmi concertati, 4vv, 2 vn, vle/theorbo, op.19 (1698)

[14] Motetti, 1v, 2 vn, ‘bassetto’, op.20 (1700)

2 sacred works, 1640³

BIBLIOGRAPHY

EitnerQ

FétisB

GerberL

SchmidlD

L.A. Cotta: Museo novarese (Milan, 1701), 269–70; pt iv ed. M. Dell’Omo (Turin, 1994)

V. Fedeli: ‘Antichi musicisti novaresi’, Bollettino storico per la provincia di Novara, xviii (1924), 308–12

L. Frati: ‘Donne musiciste bolognesi’, RMI, xxxvii (1930), 387–400

S. Carter: The Music of Isabella Leonarda (1620–1704) (diss., Stanford U., 1982)

E. Dahnk Baroffio: ‘La compositrice Isabella Leonarda’, Novarien, xiii (1983), 75–92

J. Bowers: ‘The Emergence of Women Composers in Italy, 1566–1700’,Women Making Music: the Western Art Tradition, 1150–1950, ed. J. Bowers and J. Tick (Urbana and Chicago, 1986), 116–61

J. Briscoe, ed.: Historical Anthology of Music by Women (Bloomington and Indianapolis, 1987), 39–56

S. Glickman and M.F. Schleifer, eds.: Women Composers: Music Through the Ages, ii: Composers Born 1600–1699 (New York, 1996), 139–94

STEWART CARTER

Isabella of Castile.

Queen of Spain and patron of music, one of the Catholic Monarchs.

Isacco Argiropulo.

See Argyropoulos, Isaac.

Isaiah the Serb

(fl end of the 15th century). Serbian scribe and composer of Byzantine chant. Active at the monastery of Matejče, Macedonia, he is known chiefly from GR-An 928, an akolouthia which he compiled, at least in part, during the latter years of the 15th century. In it he included psalm settings of his own and of other Serbian composers. In addition, he showed himself to be a competent writer of chants with bilingual texts (Slavonic and Greek) and purely Greek hymns. A mode 2 polyeleos Servikos attributed to him appears twice in the manuscript, once with a Church Slavonic text of the Serbian redaction and once with a Greek text. He also composed a Greek Trisagion displaying some novel features of form and style. Isaiah’s settings show that he was highly inventive and capable of introducing new and imaginative elements while conforming to basic traditional principles of Byzantine composition. (D. Stefanović, ed.: Stara srpska muzika [Old Serbian music], Belgrade, 1974–5)

DIMITRI CONOMOS

Isaksson, Madeleine

(b Stockholm, 1956). Swedish composer. She studied the piano (Gunnar Hallhagen) and composition and electro-acoustic music (Gunnar Bucht, Sven-David Sandström and Pär Lindgren) at the Royal College of Music in Stockholm, graduating in 1987. Contact with Xenakis, Ferneyhough and Emmanuel Nunes convinced her to continue her composition studies in France, where she has settled. In addition to Nunes and Ferneyhough, important influences have been Giacinto Scelsi, Helmut Lachenmann, Morton Feldman and John Cage. She is a member of the Swedish Composers’ Guild and has regularly received important commissions.

Isaksson’s music is largely acoustic, with an ascetic sensitivity to unusual sound combinations, reinforced by her use of micro-intervals. She aims at a homogenous body of sound, although she often strives to use the extremities of the vocal and instrumental ranges. Each voice or instrument asserts its individuality, but with balance and restraint. Her forms are carefully designed through sketches that show timespan, register and sound. She speaks of her pieces as naked, vulnerable, empty landscapes where sounds seed themselves, take root and sprout. Creation for her is an organic process, involving the deconstruction then synthesis of elements.

WORKS

(selective list)

Vocal: 3 sånger (S. Hagliden), S, cl, pf, 1982; Löp [Run] (Isaksson), S, A, accdn, 5 perc, 1985; Därimellan [Inbetween] (textless), S, elec gui, 1987; Så [So], Mez, b fl, perc, gui, 1992; å svävare [oh, suspended you], S, Mez, Bar, va, vc, 1993–5

Inst: Tång [Seaweed], ob, bn, b cl, cb cl, hpd, hp, vc, db, 1985; Vindflöjel [Windmill], pic, a fl, 1988; Stråkvåg [Stringwave], str qt, 1990; Tjärnöga – ö blå [Tarn Eye – Blue Island], hn, 1990; Som om [As if], a fl, v cl, perc, va, vc, db, 1991; Färde [Journey], vn, pf, 1991; Tillstånd – avstånd [State/s – Distance/s], 15 insts, 1992; inné, fl, ob, sax, hn, bn, vn, va, vc, db, 1993; Fästen o fall [Strongholds and Falls], str orch, double wind qnt, 1995–6

BIBLIOGRAPHY

K. Frostensson and M. Isaksson: ‘Samtal mellan Katarina Frostensson och Madeleine Isaksson’, Halifax: litterär kalender, vii (1993), 88–107

A. Jallén: ‘Musikalisk tyngdkraft – om Madeleine Isaksson’, Nutida musik, xxxvii/1 (1994), 18–26

J.O. Rudén: Swedish Women Composers (Stockholm, 1996) [pubn of the Swedish Music Information Centre]

MARGARET MYERS

ISAM.

See Institute for Studies in American Music.

Isamitt (Alarcón), Carlos

(b Rengo, 13 March 1887; d Santiago, 6 July 1974). Chilean composer, ethnomusicologist and painter. He studied music at the Escuela Normal in Santiago, where he took a teaching diploma (1904). Subsequently he studied composition with Brescia and Allende at the National Conservatory and the violin with Saint Lo Priore privately. He also studied painting and drawing at the Santiago School of Fine Arts, which he directed in 1927–8. Between 1924 and 1927 he was in Europe, continuing his education and attending conferences. Among the posts he held in later years were those of general director of arts education at the Ministry of Public Education, professor of music education and methodology at the National Conservatory and president of the Association of Chilean Composers. In 1957 he was elected vice-president of the Chilean Instituto Indigenista, and in 1965 he was invited to permanent membership of the Chilean Academy of Fine Arts. Other honours include the Chilean National Arts Prize (1966) and a gold medal and diploma from the Institute of Musical Research at the University of Chile (1967). He received further awards for his compositions and paintings, as well as grants for ethnomusicological research, chiefly among the Araucanian Indians. This work, most of it conducted during the years 1931–7, resulted in a collection of hundreds of transcriptions and recordings. Isamitt’s compositional style reflects to some extent his interest in indigenous music, but from 1939 he also used 12-note methods, the first Chilean to do so. He published many articles on music and the visual arts in Latin American periodicals.

WORKS

(selective list)

Stage: Gato con botas (children’s play), 1941; El pozo de oro (ballet), 1942; Grito de la sangre (ballet), 1968–9

Orch: Sym. Suite, 1932; Mito araucano, 1935; Suite, vc, chbr orch, 1950; 4 Sym. Movts, 1960; Conc., hp, chbr orch, 1962; Vn Conc., 1966; Lautaro, sym. poem, 1970

Vocal: Friso araucano, S, T, orch, 1931; Cantos de paz, 1v, str, 1932; Trawin ül, Bar, cl, bn, 2 D-tpt, timp, vc, 1941; Te küduam mapuche (Isamitt), 1v, bn, kultrun, 1958; Evocaciones huilliches, S, B, orch, 1963–5

Chbr: Str Qt, 1928; Pastorales, vn, pf, 1939; Suite, fl, 1953; Danzas, hp, 1961; Pf Qnt, 1972

Songs: 8 tonadas chilenas, 1918–23; 15 cantos araucanos, 1932; 5 cantos huilliches, 1945

Pf: Sonata ‘Evocación araucana’, 1932; Studies nos.2–7, 1934–9; 2 Leyendas, 1939

Principal publisher: Instituto de Extensión Musical

BIBLIOGRAPHY

V. Salas: La creación musical en Chile, 1900–1951 (Santiago, 1951)

RMC, no.97 (1966) [Isamitt issue]

Compositores de America/Composers of the Americas, ed. Organizacion de los Estados Americanos, xiii (Washington DC, 1967), 60

M. Vicuña: ‘Carlos Isamitt Alarcón 1887–1974’, RMC, nos.126–7 (1974), 161 [obituary]

JUAN A. ORREGO-SALAS/LUIS MERINO

Isbin, Sharon

(b Minneapolis, MN, 7 Aug 1956). American guitarist. She studied the guitar with Jeffrey Van in Minneapolis, and while at Yale University she was coached by Rosalyn Tureck. She also studied with Oscar Ghiglia, Alirio Diaz and Segovia. She won first prizes at the Toronto International Guitar Competition (1975), the Munich International Competition (1976), and the Queen Sofia competition in Madrid (1979). Her New York début was at Alice Tully Hall in 1979, following débuts in London (1977) and Tokyo (1978). She taught at the Manhattan School of Music, 1979–89, and in 1989 founded the guitar department at the Juilliard School; she also teaches at the Aspen Music Festival. Isbin has established an international reputation as a recitalist and concerto soloist, and has toured South America, Japan and Israel as well as the USA and Europe. She has made many recordings, including a significant disc of American guitar concertos by Corigliano, Lukas Foss and Joseph Schwantner, all of which were written for her. She has contributed many articles on the guitar, and together with Rosalyn Tureck has published an edition for guitar of the Bach lute suites.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

L. Koplewitz: ‘An American Guitar Concerto is Born: Interviews with Sharon Isbin and Lukas Foss’, Guitar Review, no.80 (1990), 1–4

J. Lehmann-Haupt: ‘American Tunes: Sharon Isbin and Three Leading Composers Breathe New Life into the Guitar Concerto’, Acoustic Guitar, vi/9 (1995–6), 64–9

THOMAS F. HECK

ISCM.

See International Society for Contemporary Music.

Iseler, Elmer

(b Port Colborne, ON, 14 Oct 1927; d Caledon, ON, 3 April 1998). Canadian conductor, teacher and editor. The founder, in 1955, of the Festival Singers of Canada, he conducted this choir in recitals and workshops throughout Canada and in the USA and Europe, and contributed greatly to Canadian choral singing. His appointment as conductor of the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir in 1963 enabled him to work full time in this field. In 1972 he appeared with his choirs at the BBC Promenade Concerts and elsewhere in Europe. In 1978 he left the Festival Singers of Canada and founded the Elmer Iseler Singers, a group which rose to prominence in Canada. In 1997 he left the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir but continued to lecture extensively on choral music. A staunch supporter of Canadian composers, he also performed a great deal of other 20th-century music.

GILES BRYANT

Iselin, Ludwig

(b Basle, 2 July 1559; d Basle, 20 Dec 1612). Swiss lutenist. He was the son of the Basle lawyer Ulrich Iselin and Faustina Amerbach, daughter of Bonifacius Amerbach. From 1574 he studied at universities in Basle, Geneva, Bourges and Padua. He received the doctorate of law from Basle on 20 May 1589 and was subsequently appointed professor there. During his early student years he copied two songbooks of German lieder, odes and motets (CH-Bu F.X.21 and F.X.25–6) and compiled two lutebooks in German tablature (Bu F.IX.23, dated 24 November 1575; F.X.11), the first with a section of elementary lute instruction and the second with advice on some finer aspects of lute playing, including instructions for tuning two or three lutes of different sizes for simultaneous performance. The books are particularly interesting as they contain pieces popular among students at that time. Apart from a few sacred and secular German songs, they are mostly dances: German and court dances with Nachtänze, passamezzos with saltarellos, galliards, and so on. The titles of many of them indicate vocal origins; others bear such descriptive nicknames as Studenten Tantz, Künigstantz, Des Printzen Tantz and Strasburger Tantz. The songs and dances are both set in chordal fashion with moderate embellishment. Iselin probably copied the pieces from other lutebooks, although he may have intabulated a few himself.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

K. Nef: ‘Die Musik in Basel von den Anfängen im 9. bis zur Mitte des 19. Jahrhunderts’, SIMG, x (1908–9), 532–63, esp. 544

J. Dieckmann: Die in deutscher Lautentabulatur überlieferten Tänze des 16. Jahrhunderts (Kassel, 1931)

A. Pellanda-Weber: Die Lautentabulatur des Ludwig Iselin: eine kritische Übertragung der Lautentabulatur Basel U.B. Ms. F.IX.23 (diss., U. of Fribourg, 1972)

J. Kmetz: Die Handschriften der Universitätsbibliothek Basel: Katalog der Musikhandschriften des 16. Jahrhunderts (Basel, 1988), 84–8, 272–6, 296–310, 317–22

J. Kmetz: The Sixteenth-Century Basel Songbooks: Origins, Contents and Contexts (Bern, 1995), esp. 12

HANS RADKE/JOHN KMETZ

Iselin Liederbuch

(CH-Bu F.X.21). See Sources, MS, §IX, 7.

Isfahānī, al- [Abū’ l-Faraj ‘Alī ibn al-Husayn]

(b Isfahan, 897; d Baghdad, 967). Arab man of letters, historian and poet. He lived in Baghdad and in Aleppo. As a writer on music he belongs to the school of Ishāq al-mawsilī (see Mawsilī, al-, (2)), whose Kitāb al-aghānī al-kabīr (‘Great book of songs’) was the main source for al-Isfahānī’s principal work of the same name, which is said to have taken him 50 years to write. This comprehensive book covers Arab cultural history from pre-Islamic times to the early Abbasids, with emphasis on poetry and music. Its latest published edition comprises 24 volumes. Its arrangement follows that of Al-mi’at al-sawt al-mukhtāra (‘The 100 selected songs’) compiled by Ishāq's father, Ibrāhīm al-Mawsilī (see Mawsilī, al-, (1)) and others, which was accessible to al-Isfahānī in the edition of ‘Alī ibn Yahyā al-Munajjim (d 888), a pupil of Ishāq al-Mawsilī. The texts of the songs are accompanied by notes on the compositions and their melodic (nagham) and metrical modes (īqā‘). Each of the main song texts is followed by the biography of a poet or musician often with an historical excursus; almost 100 musicians and singers from the late 6th century to the 9th are treated in this way (Shiloah, 1979). The detailed biographical data of Ibrāhīm and Ishāq al-Mawsilī alone convey a lively and convincing picture of the status of court musicians in Baghdad between c775 and 850. Soon after its completion the book was so renowned that Caliph al-Hakam II (961–76) of Córdoba sent al-Isfahānī 1000 gold dinars with a request for a copy. It is still the vital source for descriptions of early Arab musical history. His other books on music and musicians are lost. A monograph on slave musicians (Kitāb al-ghilmān al-mughannīn) was still known in Aleppo in the 13th century. Quotations from a book on female slave singers (Kitāb al-imā’) have survived in the section on musicians (volume x) of the encyclopedic Masālik al-absār by Ibn Fadl Allāh al-‘Umarī (d 1349). Abū l-Faraj himself quotes, in the Kitāb al-aghānī (viii, pp.374f), a treatise he wrote to explain the ‘basic rules of notes’ (Risāla fī ‘ilal al-nagham) as understood by Ishāq al-Mawsilī and his school.

WRITINGS

Kitāb al-aghānī al-kabīr [Great book of songs]; pubd (Cairo, 1868–9, suppl., Leiden, 1888, 2/1905–6, 3/1927–74); part Fr. trans. in Quatremère and Caussin de Perceval

BIBLIOGRAPHY

EI2 (M. Nallino)

E.M. Quatremère: ‘Mémoire sur l’ouvrage intitulé Kitab al-agâni, c’est-à-dire “Recueil de chansons”’, Nouveau journal asiatique, 2nd ser., xvi (1835), 385–419, 497–545; Journal asiatique, 3rd ser., vi (1838), 465–526

A.P. Caussin de Perceval: ‘Notices anecdotiques sur les principaux musiciens arabes des trois premiers siècles de l’islamisme’, Journal asiatique, 7th ser., ii (1873), 397–592

H.G. Farmer: ‘The Song Captions in the Kitāb al-aghānī al-kabīr’, Transactions of the Glasgow University Oriental Society, xv (1955), 1–10

M. Stigelbauer: Die Sängerinnen am Abbasidenhof um die Zeit des Kalifen al-Mutawakkil (Vienna, 1975)

Gh.‘A. Khashaba: Kitāb al-mūjaz fī sharh mustalahāt al-Aghānī [Compendium of the musical terms in the Kitāb al-aghānī] (Cairo, 1979)

A. Shiloah: The Theory of Music in Arabic Writings (c.900–1900): Descriptive Catalogue of Manuscripts in the Libraries of Europe and the USA (Munich, 1979), 234–37

Sh. Jabrī: Abū’ l-Faraj al-Isfahānī (Cairo, 4/1980)

G.D. Sawa: ‘Musical Humour in the Kitāb al-Aghānī’, Logos Islamikos: Studia Islamica in honorem G.M. Wickens (Toronto, 1984), 35–50

G.D. Sawa: ‘The Status and Roles of the Secular Musicians in the Kitāb al-Aghānī (Book of Songs) of Abū al-Faraj al-Isbahānī (d. 356 A.H./967 A.D.)’, AsM, xvii (1985), 69–82

Kh. al-‘Atiyya, comp.: al-Qiyān: Abū’ l-Faraj al-Isfahānī (London, 1989)

G.D. Sawa: Music Performance Practice in the Early ‘Abbāsid Era 132–320 AH/750–932 AD (Toronto, 1989)

H. Kilpatrick: ‘Context and the Enhancement of the Meaning of ahbār in the Kitāb al-aġānī’, Arabica, xxxviii (1991), 351–68

ECKHARD NEUBAUER

Isham [Isum], John

(b c1680; d London, bur. 12 June 1726). English organist and composer. He served for some years as deputy organist for William Croft in London, and on 22 January 1711 was elected organist of St Anne’s, Soho, on Croft’s resignation. In July 1713 he graduated BMus at Oxford, and on 3 April 1718, in succession to Maurice Greene, he was elected organist of St Andrew’s, Holborn, with a stipend of £50 per annum, upon which he resigned his place at St Anne’s. Shortly afterwards he was chosen organist of St Margaret’s, Westminster, a post he held in conjunction with that at St Andrew’s until his death. In 1706 he and William Morley (who was also to take an Oxford BMus in 1713) published A Collection of New Songs (six of which are by Isham). One two-part song, Bury delights my roving eye, became so popular it was included by Hawkins in his History. Isham wrote at least ten other songs, which were published singly. The words of two anthems (O sing unto the Lord and Unto thee, O Lord) are included in Divine Harmony (London, 1712), the first Chapel Royal wordbook. His most substantial work is the ode O tuneful God and all ye Sacred Nine, which, though not actually identified as such, must have been his BMus exercise (score and parts in GB-Ob). A recently discovered receipt shows that, while organist of St Margaret's, he also copied music for Westminster Abbey.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

HawkinsH

D. Hunter: English Opera and Song Books 1703–1726: their Contents, Publishing, Printing and Bibliographical Description (diss., U. of Illinois, 1989)

T. Trowles: The Musical Ode in Britain c.1670–1800 (diss., U. of Oxford, 1992)

H. DIACK JOHNSTONE

Issāq al-Mawsilā.

See al-Mawsilā, (2).

Ishchenko, Yury Yakovlevich

(b Kherson, 5 May 1938). Ukrainian composer. He graduated from Shtoharenko's class in the Kiev Conservatory (1960), and also undertook postgraduate work with him (1961–4). From 1964 he taught in the department of composition at the conservatory (from 1981 as senior lecturer and from 1991 as professor), lecturing on orchestration, the study of musical instruments, and taking composition classes. His students include the Ukrainian composers Zagaykevych, Ovcharenko and Runchak in addition to composers from Abkhazia, Lebanon, Mongolia, Russia and Vietnam. In 1969 he was a laureate of the All-Union young composers' competition, then in 1977 he defended his dissertation for the degree of Candidate of Science on the subject of the dramatic use of timbre in the symphonies of Lyatoshyns'ky. In 1991 he was awarded the title of Honoured Representative of the Arts of Ukraine. His work is broad and varied in terms of themes and genres; it leans on the traditions of Lyatoshyns'ky, Revuts'ky and Shostakovich.

WORKS

(selective list)

Ops: Verochka (1, after A.P. Chekhov), 1971; Vodevil' [The Vaudeville] (2, 3 scenes, after A. P. Chekhov), 1990; Mï otdokhnyom [We Shall Rest] (4, after Chekhov: Dyadya Vanya [Uncle Vanya]), 1996

5 syms.: 1963, 1968, 1971, 1976, 1985

Other orch: Vc Conc. no.1, 1968; Vn Conc. no.1, 1970; Conc. Suite, fl, str orch, 1972; Zacharovana Desna [The Enchanted Desna], sym. poem after A. Dovzhenko, 1972; Conc., ob, pf, str orch, 1978; Sinfonietta, 1981; Vn Conc. no.2, 1981; Vc Conc. no.2, 1982; Prelude, Fugue, Chorale and Aria, chbr orch, 1985 [on a theme of DSCH]; Conc., hp, hpd, str orch, 1986; Little Partita no.2, vc, str orch, 1986; Vn Conc. no.3, 1986; Dar Vedelyu [A Gift to Vedel'], sym. poem, 1991; Lento doloroso, pf, str, 1994; Cl Conc., 1996; Topolya [The Poplar], sym. poem after T. Shevchenko, 1999

Vocal: Chbr Cant. (M. Tsvetayeva), S, chbr orch, 1970; Kobzarevi dumy [Kobzar's Players Dumy] (chbr cant., Shevchenko), B, chbr orch, 1984; Sud'ba poėta [The Fate of the Poet] (chbr cant., A.S. Pushkin), T/Bar, chbr ens, 1987; U prosviti khmar [Into the Gaps in the Clouds] (cant., L. Kostenko), S, Mez, chorus, chbr orch, 1987; Chtob vïrvat'mïsl' iz kamennïkh ob' 'yatiy [In Order to Tear Away a Thought From the Embraces of Stone] (cant., Michelangelo), T, orch, 1988; Skorbotna maty [A Sorrowful Mother] (cant., P. Tïchina), S, chorus, children's chorus, orch, 1990; other vocal works incl.: song cycles (A. Akhmatova, A. Blok, J. Keats and K. Vala), romances and unacc. choral works

7 str qts: 1967, 1968, 1973, 1981, 1983, 1988, 1993, 1997, 1997

Other chbr and solo inst: Pf Sonata nos.1 and 2, 1962; Qnt, fl, ob, cl, bn, hn, 1969; Pf Sonata no.3, 1971; Qnt, 2 vn, va, vc, hp, 1974; Pf Sonata no.4, 1975; Pf Trio no.1, 1975; Pf Qt, 1977; Qt, cl, vn, vc, pf, 1981; Qt, fl, ob, bn, hn, 1982; Str Trio, 1982; Trio, 2 vn, va, 1984; Pf Trio no.2, 1986; Qt, ob, cl, bn, a sax, 1989; Pf Qnt, 1991; Sax Qt, 1994; Trio, vn, va, pf, 1994; Trio, 2 vn, vc, 1995; 24 Preludes, pf, 1996; Trio, fl, vc, pf, 1996; Pf Sonata no.5, 1999; 15 sonatas for 2 insts, works for 2 pf, solo org and many inst works for children

WRITINGS

‘Pryntsypy melodiynikh dublyuvan' v orkestrovykh tvorakh B.M. Lyatoshyns'kogo’ [The principles of melodic doubling in the orchestral works of Lyatoshyns'ky], Ukraïns'ke muzykoznavstvo, v (1969), 40–49

‘Traktuvanny disonansu v orkestrovykh tvorakh B. Lyatoshyns'kogo’ [Interpretation of dissonance in the orchestral works of Lyatoshyns'ky], Ukraïns'ke muzykoznavstvo, vii (1972), 144–64

‘Tembrovi ekspozitsii v simfoniyakh B.M. Lyatoshyns'kogo’ [Timbre expositions in the symphonies of Lyatoshyns'ky], Ukraïns'ke muzykoznavstvo, x (1975), 3–11

‘Deyaki osoblyvosti formotvorchoï roli tembru v “Partizans'kikh kartinakh” dlya simfonichnogo orkestru i fortepiano A. Shtogarenka’ [Certain peculiarities in the shape-forming role of timbre in the ‘Partisan Pictures’ for symphony orchestra and piano by Shtoharenko], Tvorchist' A. Shtogarenka, ed. T. Kravtsova (Kiev, 1979), 182–97

‘Tembrove integruvannya v orkestrovykh tvorakh M.I. Glinki’ [Timbre integration in the orchestral works of Glinka], Ukraïns'ke muzykoznavstvo, xviii (1983), 80–93

‘O Borise Nikolayeviche Lyatoshinskom’ [On Lyatoshyns'ky], Boris Lyatoshinskiy: vospominaniya, pis'ma, materialï, ed. L.N. Grisenko and N.I. Matusevich, i (Kiev, 1985), 73–7

BIBLIOGRAPHY

G. Kon'kova: Yury Ishchenko (Kiev, 1975)

Ye. Zin'kevich: ‘Yury Ishchenko’, Kompozitorï soyuznïkh respublik, ed. M.I. Nest'yeva, ii (Moscow, 1977), 117–60

Ye. Zin'kevich: Dinamika obnovleniya [The dynamics of renewal] (Kiev, 1986) [incl. pp.40–55 on the third symphony]

YELENA ZIN'KEVICH

Ishii, Kan

(b Tokyo, 30 March 1921). Japanese composer, brother of Maki Ishii. A son of Bac Ishii, one of the leading Japanese ballet dancers, he was educated to become a composer of ballet music, opera and orchestral works. He studied the piano at the Musashino School of Music (1939–43), served in the navy during the war and then worked as a pianist in his father’s company. His Prelude for orchestra won first prize in the 1949 Mainichi Music Contest and his ballet Kami to bayādere, choreographed by his father, was first performed in Tokyo the next year. After further studies with Orff in Munich (1952–4) he took a professorship at the Tōhō Gakuen School of Music (1954–66). He won a prize at the 1958 government-sponsored Art Festival for the Symphonia Ainu, which embodied his new interest in nationalist primitivism, and his ballet Marimo was in 1966 performed to great acclaim in several cities of the USSR. Also in that year he was appointed professor of composition at the Aichi Prefectural Arts University, Nagoya. He has also served as head of the Japan Composers’ Federation (1964–70) and president of the All-Japan Chorus League. Returning to Tokyo in 1986, he became a professor at Shōwa Music College. His music is highly emotional in quality and shows the strong influence of Orff.

WORKS

(selective list)

Principal publisher: Ongaku-no-Tomo Sha

stage

Operas

Ningyo to akai rōsoku [The Mermaid and the Red Candle] (1, after M. Ogawa), 1961; Tokyo, Asahi Shinbun Hall, Nov 1961

Kaguya-hime [Princess Kaguya] (1, Akaya Sōno), 1963; NHK TV, Nov 1963

En no Gyōja (3, Shikō Tsubouchi, after Shōyō Tsubouchi), 1963; Tokyo, Metropolitan Festival Hall, 20 March 1965

Kesa to Moritō [Kesa and Moritō] (3, Y. Yamanouchi, after Heike monogatari and Genpei seisuiki), 1968; Tokyo, Metropolitan Festival Hall, 20 Nov 1968

Onna wa suteki [Women are Wonderful] (comic op, 1, Yamanouchi); Tokyo, Iino Hall, 27 Oct 1978

Aojishi [Blue Lion] (operetta, 2, K. Hoshino, after a folktale), Komagane, City Hall, 3 Nov 1989

Ballets

Kami to bayādere [The God and the Bayadère], Tokyo, 1950; Ketsueki [Blood], 1951; Ningen tanjō [Birth of a Human Being], 1954; Reijō Jurī [Julie], 1955; Shakuntala, 1961; Marimo, Tokyo, 1962; Biruma no tategoto [The Harp of Burma], 1963; Haniwa, 1963; Hakai [Sin against Buddha], 1965

other works

Orch: Prelude, 1949; Yama [Mountain], 1953; Matsuri no rizumu ni yoru buyō kumikyoku [Dance Suite on Festival Rhythm], 1967

Vocal: Kareki to taiyō no uta [Song of the Withered Tree and the Sun], chorus, 1955; Aoi ashi to rindō no hanashi [The Story of Green Reeds and Autumn Bellflowers], chorus, 1961; Otokonoko ga umareta [A Boy is Born], chorus, 1964; Asu eno ashioto [Footsteps to Tomorrow] (cant), S, 1972; folksong settings, 1958–62; Ōinaru Akita (Great Akita), S, chorus, org, orch, 1974

Chbr and solo inst: Pf Sonata, 1948; Music for 8 Perc, 1970; Music for Hp Ens, 1971

Many other stage works and film scores

MASAKATA KANAZAWA

Ishii, Maki

(b Tokyo, 28 May 1936). Japanese composer, brother of Kan Ishii. During the years 1952–8 he studied composition privately with Ifukube and Ikenouchi and conducting with Watanabe. He attended the Berlin Hochschule für Musik (1958–61) as a pupil of Blacher and Rufer. After his return to Tokyo in 1962 he became active as a composer and as an organizer of concerts of new music; he also worked frequently in the NHK electronic music studios after 1965. He took part in the planning of the Japanisch-deutsches Festival für Neue Musik (1967–72), and was invited to participate in the Berliner Künstlerprogramm (1969) with a grant from the Deutscher Akademischer Austauschdienst. He is active as a composer, conductor and organizer in Japan, Europe, the USA and China. His works have been featured in events including the Festival d'Automne in Paris (1978), the Berliner Festwochen (1981), the Eté Japonais in Geneva (1983) and exhibitions devoted to his music in Tokyo (1989) and The Hague (1992). His works show an awareness of contemporary Western techniques and skilful coordination of sound and silence. In several cases Ishii has synthesised traditional Japanese and Western elements, but in Sō-gū II the interaction is achieved in a more straightforward manner by the simultaneous playing of Dipol for Western orchestra and Shi-kyō: Musik für Gagaku. His prizes include the German Critics' Prize (1988), the Kyoto Music Grand Prix (1990) and an Emmy award (1995).

WORKS

(selective list)

Stage: Szene, dancer, 9 insts, 1962; Samsara (ballet, after F. Kafka: Die Verwandlung), tape, 1968; Yukionna (ballet), tape, 1971; Scene of Violet, dancers, insts, lighting, elecs, 1975; Kaguyahime (Die nachtglänzende Prinzessin) (ballet), 8 Jap. drums, 8 perc, 3 gagaku players, 1985; Bonshō no koe (Die Stimme der Tempelglocken) (ballet, from The Tale of the Heike), orch, 1997

Orch: 7 Pieces, chbr orch, 1960; Komplikation, 4 ens, cond., 1962; Expressionen, str, 1967; Klavierstück, pf, perc, 1968; Kyō-ō, pf, orch, tape, 1968; Kyō-sō, 6 perc, orch, 1969; La-sen I, fl, ob, hp, pf, 3 perc, tape, 1969; Dipol, 1971; Sō-gū II, gagaku ens, orch, 1971; Polaritäten (biwa, hp, orch)/(biwa, hp, shakuhachi, fl, orch)/(shakuhachi, fl, orch), 1973; Jo, 1975; Mono-prism, Jap. perc, orch, 1976; Lost Sounds III, vn conc., 1978; Afro-Conc., perc, orch, 1982; Gioh, sym. poem, yokobue, orch, 1984; Fuyūsuru kaze [Floating Wind], sym. linked works, 1992; Ryūgen no toki e: [Towards Time Dragondeep], sym. ballade, Music for the Imaginary Ballet of Urashimatarō 1994; Hiten shōka (Ode to the Hiten-Hovering of Celestial Forms), niko, orch, 1995

Chbr and solo inst: Prelude and Variations, fl, cl, bn, hn, pf qt, perc, 1959; 4 Bagatelles, vn, pf, 1961; Aphorismen, pf qt, perc, 1963; Charaktere, fl, ob, vn, gui, pf, 1965; Hamon, vn, chbr ens, tape, 1965; Japanische Suite, fl, gui, str trio, perc, 1965; La-sen II, vc, 1970; Shi-kyō: Musik für Gagaku, gagaku ens, 1970; Sō-gū I, shakuhachi, pf, 1970; Sen-ten, perc, tape, 1971; Nucleus, biwa, hp, shakuhachi, fl, 1973; Anime Amare, hp, tape, 1974; Monochrome, perc, 1976; Black Intention I, rec, 1977; 13 drums, 1 perc, 1985; Str Qt ‘West – Gold – Autumn’, 1992; Jinkan yume no gotoshi [Life is but a Dream], recitation, ryūteki, koto, mar, db, 4 perc, 1997

Vocal: Galgenlieder (C. Morgenstern), 1964; Voices – Violet, gidayū ens, sho, perc, 1977; Kaeru no shōmyō (Buddistische Gesänge der Frösche), 1984

Principal publishers: Moeck, Ongaku-no-Tomo Sha

BIBLIOGRAPHY

KdG (W. Burde)

Tokyo Concerts, ed.: Sakkyokuka no koten '89: Ishii Maki [An exhibition of a composer '89: Ishii] (Tokyo, 1989)

C. Ishii-Meinecke, ed.: Nishi no hibiki – higashi no hibiki: Ishii Maki no ognaku/Westlicher Klang – Östlicher Klang: die Musik Maki Ishiis (Celle and Tokyo, 1997)

K. Hori, ed.: Nihon no sakkyoku nijusseiki [Japanese compositions in the 20th century] (Tokyo, 1999)

MASAKATA KANAZAWA/TATSUHIKO ITOH

Ishiketa, Mareo

(b Wakayama, 26 Nov 1916; d Tokyo, 22 Aug 1996). Japanese composer and teacher. He studied composition with Kan'ichi Shimofusa and in 1939 graduated from the Tokyo Music School, where he was appointed lecturer in 1946. The next year he joined the Shinsei Kai, a group of composers led by Shibata and Irino, and in 1952 he was made assistant professor of composition at the Tokyo Music School (renamed the National University of Fine Arts and Music in 1949), then full professor (1968–83). His music, particularly for voices and chamber groups, reveals a personal style of lyricism, influenced both by Impressionism and Japanese traditional music. He published Gakushiki-ron (‘Musical forms’, Tokyo, 1950).

WORKS

(selective list)

Principal publisher: Ongaku-no-Tomo Sha

operas

Sotoba Komachi (1, Y. Mishima, after a nō play); Tokyo, Daiichi Seimei Hall, 12 Nov 1960

Gyofukuki (1, K. Hashimoto, after O. Dazai); Tokyo, NHK Hall, 1 Oct 1963

Koshamain ki [Tale of Koshamain] (T. Tsuruta and H. Takahashi); Tokyo, NHK Hall, Nov 1967

Kakekomi (T. Endō); Tokyo, Municipal Centre Hall, 28 Nov 1968

other works

Orch: Suite, 1952; 2 syms., 1956, 1965; Koto Conc., 1969

Choral: Sen no koe, sen no kokoro [Thousand Voices, Thousand Hearts], 1962; Mofuku [Mourning Dress], 1964, rev. as op, Tokyo, 1973; Senju Kannon [Thousand-Handed Kannon], 1965

Solo vocal: Requiem, 1959; Futasu no hanashi [Twofold Tale], 1963; Onna no inori [Women’s Prayer], female v, pf, Electone, 1968; Tsuki ni hoeru [Bark at Moon], Bar, cl, vn, vc, pf, 5 timp, 1979

Chbr and solo inst: Sonata, vc, pf, 1946; Str Qt, 1947; Koto Suite, 1952; Kyūsūteki enkinhō [Perspective in Progression], perc, 1963, rev. 1967; Sonata, vc, pf, 1964; Mue no uta, Jap. ens, 1969; Mokushi [Revelation], koto, 1971; Mokushi, 2 sax, 1973; Mokushi; vn, pf, 1975; Cantilène méditative, sax, 1978

MASAKATA KANAZAWA

Isicathamiya.

An a cappella choral music performed primarily by Zulu men in South Africa. The word derives from the Zulu root -cathama, which means to stalk like a cat. Isicathamiya refers to the characteristic choreography in isicathamiya performance, which involves very light footwork often executed in a semi-crouched position with the toe of the foot barely skimming the floor. Isicathamiya choirs (ranging from four to over 20 singers, including at least one soprano and one alto, the leader usually singing tenor while the rest sing bass) perform at all-night weekend competitions (ingoma ebusuku) in hostels in and around Durban and Johannesburg. Each choir sings three songs; the entrance starts outside the hall and continues until all singers are in position on the stage. The performance proper consists of one song, usually lasting about 15 minutes, with a recessional that takes the performers back out of the hall. Choir members are formally dressed in exactly the same way, this being one of the criteria with which they are judged.

Isicathamiya began in the area of the coal mines in the KwaZulu-Natal midlands during the 1920s and 30s, but it is clear that some features such as polished uniforms, often with white gloves and spats, are rooted in earlier performing practices, in particular, 19th-century American blackface minstrel shows. But indigenous musical practices cannot be undermined in determining the history of isicathamiya. Choral partsinging is arguably the basis of all music-making among the Nguni peoples (Zulu, Xhosa and Swazi), who historically inhabit this eastern region of South Africa.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

Isicathamiya, Heritage HT313 (1986) [incl. notes]

C. Ndhlovu: ‘Scathamiya: a Zulu Male Vocal Tradition’, Symposium on Ethnomusicology VIII: Durban 1989, 45–8

V. Erlmann: African Stars: Studies in Black South African Performance (Chicago, 1991)

V. Erlmann: Nightsong: Performance, Power and Practice in South Africa (Chicago, 1996)

JANET TOPP FARGION

Isidore of Seville

(b ?Cartagena, c559; d Seville,4 April 636). Spanish archbishop, encyclopedist, theologian saint and doctor of the church. The youngest of Severianus’s four children, Isidore was probably born in Cartagena, Spain, shortly before his family fled to Seville. His early education was overseen by his elder brother Leander, whom he succeeded to the episcopal see at Seville in about 599. As archbishop, Isidore presided over the fourth Council of Toledo, which sought to achieve doctrinal and liturgical uniformity throughout Spain and parts of southern France.

The largest of Isidore’s works is his encyclopedic Etymologiarum sive Originum libri xx, an investigation of the principal terms employed in all branches of knowledge. Chapters 15 to 23 of book 3 deal exclusively with music, which is defined there as ‘the skill [peritia] of modulation consisting of tone and song’. In his discussion of the Quadrivium (bk iii, chap.24), however, Isidore closely followed Cassiodorus in defining music as ‘the discipline which treats of numbers in relation to those numbers which are found in sounds’. He again followed Cassiodorus in discussing ‘the three parts’ of music: harmonics, rhythmics and metrics (iii, 18). He went on, however, to describe ‘the threefold division’ of music (iii, 19), this time following Augustine of Hippo:

Moreover for every sound which forms the material of songs, there is a threefold nature. The first is the harmonic, which consists of singing; the second, the organic, which is produced by blowing; the third, the rhythmic, in which the music is produced by the impulse of the fingers.

Isidore appeared to follow St Augustine again, at least in part, when he wrote (iii, 15) that ‘unless sounds are remembered by man, they perish, for they cannot be written down’. This statement has sometimes been interpreted to mean that musical notation was unknown in the early 7th century, or at least in Isidore’s circle.

The statement most widely quoted by later writers on music is perhaps: ‘Music moves the feelings and changes the emotions’ (iii, 17).

Isidore manifested a different and somewhat more practical concern with music in vi, 9. There, and in closely related passages in his De ecclesiasticis officiis (i, 3–7, 9, 13–15; ii, 12), he dealt with the role of music in the Divine Office. Comparison of these passages with surviving manuscripts for the Mozarabic rite makes it clear that he referred specifically to that rite. His definitions of antiphons and responsories are, however, relevant to other Christian rites as well:

Antiphon, from the Greek, is defined as a reciprocal utterance: namely, two choirs singing alternately or from one to the other. This type of singing, it is said, was invented by the Greeks. Responsories were invented long ago by the Italians and are called by that name because to the singing of one person the choir responds in consonance. Formerly, each one alone sang the responsory. Now sometimes one, sometimes two or three sing together, a choir of many responding.

Jacques Fontaine’s great work on Isidore and his sources shows, however, that this contrast between theoretical and practical concerns is not as pronounced as Gurlitt and others have claimed. Although Isidore paid his respects to the Hellenistic tradition of music theory, as transmitted in an already impoverished form primarily by Cassiodorus and other late writers, he did not hesitate to omit from his writings a complex and detailed mass of inherited theoretical paraphernalia which no longer bore any relevance to his practical experience with music as a churchman. When his sources and his experience clashed, he allowed his experience and his own imagination to prevail, as shown not only in his omissions from the sources but also in his sometimes subtle modifications of them as well. Thus, Isidore may be seen to have borne witness to a further step in the decline of an ancient tradition of music theory and to the very first glimmerings of a new tradition.

Isidore’s writings on numerous subjects influenced a broad range of writers and thinkers throughout the Middle Ages. In addition to the Etymologiae and the De ecclesiasticis officiis, his works include the Differentiarum libri, De natura rerum, Allegoriae, De ortu et obitu patrum, Liber numerorum, Mysticorum expositiones sacramentorum seu quaestiones in vetus Testamentum, De fide catholica, Sententiarum libri tres, Synonyma, Historia Gothorum, Historiae Vandalorum et Sueborum, Laus Spaniae, De viris illustribus, and the Regula monachorum.

EDITIONS

F. Arévalo, ed.: S. Isidori hispalensis episcopi opera omnia (Rome 1797–1803); also ed. in PL, lxxxi–lxxxiv

W.M. Lindsay, ed.: Isidori hispalensis episcopi Etymologiarum sive Originum libri xx (Oxford, 1911/R); Eng trans. of bk iii, chaps. 15–23, in O. Strunk: Source Readings in Music History (New York, 1950/R)

J. Oroz Reta and M.-A. Marcos Casquero, eds.: Etimologías (Madrid, 1982–3, 2/1993–4) [parallel Lat. and Sp. trans.]

P.K. Marshall, ed.: Etymologies, book II (Paris, 1983)

C.M. Lawson, ed.: Sancti Isidori episcopi hispalensis De ecclesiasticis officiis (Turnhout, 1989)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

G. Bareille: ‘Isidore de Séville (Saint)’, Dictionnaire de théologie catholique, viii (1924), 98–111

P. Séjourné: Le dernier père de l’église, Saint Isidore de Séville: son rôle dans l’histoire du droit canonique (Paris, 1929)

B. Altaner: ‘Der Stand der Isidorforschung: ein kritischer Bericht über die seit 1910 erschienene Literatur’, Miscellanea isidoriana(Rome,1936), 1–32

J. Pérez de Urbel: San Isidoro de Sevilla: su vida, su obra y su tiempo(Barcelona, 1945)

W. Gurlitt: ‘Zur Bedeutungsgeschichte von “musicus” und “cantor” bei Isidor von Sevilla’, Abhandlungen der Akademie der Wissenschaften und der Literatur in Mainz, Geistes- und sozialwissenschaftlichen Klasse (1950), no.7, 539–58

H. Hüschen: ‘Der Einfluss Isidors von Sevilla auf die Musikanschauung des Mittelalters’, Miscelánea en homenaje a Monseñor Higinio Anglés (Barcelona, 1958–61), 397–406

J. Fontaine: Isidore de Séville et la culture classique dans l’Espagne wisigothique (Paris, 1959, enlarged 2/1983)

J. Madoz: San Isidoro de Sevilla: semblanza de su personalidad literaria(Madrid, 1960)

J.N. Hillgarth: ‘The Position of Isidorian Studies: a Critical Review of the Literature since 1935’, Isidoriana, ed. M.C. Díaz y Díaz (León, 1961), 11–74

A. Humbert: ‘St Isidore of Seville’, New Catholic Encyclopedia (New York, 1967)

D.M. Randel: ‘Responsorial Psalmody in the Mozarabic Rite’, Etudes grégoriennes, x (1969), 87–116

J.N. Hillgarth: ‘The Position of Isidorian Studies: a Critical Review of the Literature, 1936–1975’, Studi medievali, xxiv (1983), 817–905

J.N. Hillgarth: ‘Isidore of Seville, St’, Dictionary of the Middle Ages, ed. J.R., Strayer, vi (New York, 1985), 563–6

J. Fontaine: Tradition et actualité chez Isidore de Séville(London, 1988)

M. Huglo: ‘Les diagrammes d’harmonique interpolés dans les manuscrits hispaniques de la musica Isidori’, Scriptorium, xlviii (1994), 171–86

DON M. RANDEL (with NILS NADEAU)

Isis.

Ancient Egyptian form of the Mediterranean mother-goddess. Sister and consort of Osiris, she was equated with Demeter by Herodotus (ii.59.2, ii.56.5). Her worship spread to Greece during the Hellenistic period and reached Italy in approximately 100 bce. Roman poets of the time of Augustus made reference to praise (laudes) offered twice daily to Isis (Tibullus, i.3.31) and services held at night (Propertius, ii.33.2). Frescoes at Herculaneum and Pompeii, both buried by the eruption of 79 ce, show scenes of ritual dancing and antiphonal singing in her honour (Witt, pls.23, 26).

The north African rhetorician Apuleius (fl c160 ce) was the first writer to comment in detail on the role of music in the worship of Isis. He described a chorus singing hymns to the accompaniment of the tibia and syrinx, and noted an oblicus (obliquus) calamus which ‘reached to the right ear’ of the piper (Metamorphoses, xi.9). This cannot have been a double aulos of the Phrygian kind, with one bell-shaped mouth, nor is it likely to have been a transverse flute (see Wille, p.65). Apuleius must have been describing a monaulos (see Virgil), with a reed mouthpiece set into the single tube at an angle and a recurved bell. Such an instrument appears on a Roman bas-relief (Witt, pl.30; not identified). Other archaeological evidence indicates that worshippers of Isis at Rome also used drums, cymbals and even trumpets.

Literary sources repeatedly make clear the special importance of the sistrum (a Latin transliteration of the Greek seistron, from seiō, ‘shake’; more properly crepitaculum). Apuleius noted that this was shaken in triple rhythm (Metamorphoses, xi.4). Isis was regularly shown holding a Sistrum (Plutarch, On Isis and Osiris, 376c–e) and her priests carried it, originally as a means of putting to flight Set, the evil twin brother of Osiris. It was the most distinctive token of the worship of Isis.

In the time of Augustus, Tibullus (i.3.24) and perhaps Ovid as well (Amores, iii.9.33–4) credited the sistrum with powers of healing, although in the hand of an angry goddess it could cause blindness (Juvenal, Satires, xiii.93), and Lucan associated it with mourning (Pharsalia, viii.832; c60 ce). Other writers of the Augustan period used it to symbolize Egyptian decadence: so Virgil, in the Aeneid, of Cleopatra summoning her troops with its rattle instead of a trumpet-call (viii.696).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

G.A. Villoteau: Abhandlung über die Musik des alten Aegyptens … aus dem grossen französischen Prachtwerke: Description de l'Egypte (Leipzig, 1821)

R. Helm, ed.: Apulei Platonici Madaurensis Metamorphoseon libri xi (Leipzig, 1913, 3/1931/R)

C. Sachs: Die Musikinstrumente des alten Ägyptens (Berlin, 1921)

F.C. Babbitt, trans.: ‘Isis and Osiris’, Plutarch's Moralia, v (London and Cambridge, MA, 1936/R), 6–191

E. Iversen: The Myth of Egypt and its Hieroglyphs in European Tradition (Copenhagen, 1961, 2/1993), 38–56

V. Tram Tam Tinh: Essai sur le culte d'Isis à Pompéi (Paris, 1964)

G. Wille: Musica romana (Amsterdam, 1967), 38, 63ff, 714–15

R.E. Witt: Isis in the Graeco-Roman World (Ithaca, NY, 1971)

F. Dunand: Le culte d'Isis dans le bassin oriental de la Méditerranée (Leiden, 1973)

J.G. Griffiths, ed. and trans.: The Isis Book of Apuleius (Leiden, 1975)

L. Manniche: Music and Musicians in Ancient Egypt (London, 1991), 57–73

WARREN ANDERSON/THOMAS J. MATHIESEN

Isla, (Diego) Cristóbal de

(b Berlanga de Duero, Soria, bap. 15 Sept 1586; d Palencia, shortly before 1 Dec 1651). Spanish composer. A choirboy at León Cathedral (1594–1602), he later studied at the collegiate church in Berlanga with Juan de Avila (until 1607) and with Sebastián López de Velasco (in 1607) while both were maestros de capilla there. From 19 April 1611 to 26 January 1615 he was maestro de capilla of Huesca Cathedral, from 31 January 1615 to 15 April 1616 of Burgo de Osma Cathedral, and from then until his death of Palencia Cathedral. During his time at Palencia he won constant praise for his education and care of the choristers, and was raised to the rank of canon. In 1645 Mateo de Molina became the cathedral's first salaried harpist. Isla was one of the first in Spain to specify a continuo of organ, harp and (string) bass for polychoral works, and influenced a school of polychoral composers headed by his pupil Tomás Micieres.

WORKS

Laudate Dominum, 9vv, [bc], ed. in TSM, lx/2 (1977), suppl. pp.2–20; Olaláo, desdichada barquilla, 7vv, bc, ed. in TSM, lxi/2 (1978), suppl. pp.26–44; Salve regina, 7vv, bc (lacks bc); Sub tuum praesidium, 5vv, bc (lacks T): E-V; 2 int, 6, 9vv, PAL (inc.)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

JoãoIL

H. Anglès: ‘El archivo musical de la catedral de Valladolid’, AnM, iii (1948), 59–108

J. López-Calo: ‘Corresponsales de Miguel de Irízar’, AnM, xx (1965), 209–33, esp. 223 (letter 115)

L. Siemens Hernández: ‘El maestro de capilla Cristóbal de Isla (1586–1651)’, TSM, lviii/2 (1975), 49–55

L. Siemens Hernández: ‘La obra musical de Cristóbal de Isla’, TSM, lx/2 (1977), 35–9

L. Siemens Hernández: ‘Más datos sobre la vida y obra de Cristóbal de Isla’, TSM, lxi/2 (1978), 53–7

J. López-Carlo: La música en la catedral de Palencia, catálogo musical: actas capitulares (1413–1684), i (Palencia, 1980), 19, 598–641

ROBERT STEVENSON

Island.

Jamaican, later British, record company. It was set up in Kingston in 1959 by Chris Blackwell, the son of a plantation owner and heir to the Crosse & Blackwell fortune. Initially Island concentrated on jazz. Its first release was by the pianist Lance Hollywood. Island moved to Britain in spring 1962 and established itself as one of the most experimental and influential independent record labels. Tapping in to the burgeoning ska scene, Island released a series of seminal records by artists such as the Skatalites and Toots and the Maytals and was instrumental in popularizing these with white mainstream audiences. In 1963 nearly 100 singles were released on the Island label, and in 1964 it had its first international success with the ska hit My Boy Lollipop by Millie.

In 1964 Island diversified into rhythm and blues and signed the Spencer Davis group. It also began licensing releases from the American rhythm and blues label Sue, which in its British form included recordings by James Brown and Etta James. By the late 1960s, having licensed its Jamaican catalogue to Trojan, Island was on the cutting edge of contemporary rock. Through deals with labels such as Chrysalis and EG, its roster included Traffic, Free, Mott the Hoople, Jethro Tull and King Crimson; in 1971 Roxy Music, previously unrecorded, joined their ranks. However, Island's biggest catch was Bob Marley and the Wailers, with Marley becoming the first superstar of reggae in the late 1970s. In the 1980s its biggest successes came with Grace Jones, Robert Palmer, Steve Winwood and U2. In 1989 Blackwell sold his company to A&M records, but the label stayed true to its roots in innovation by capturing artists such as P.J. Harvey, Pulp and Tricky, while continuing its association with U2.

DAVID BUCKLEY

Islamic religious music.

I. General

III. Shi‘a Islam

ECKHARD NEUBAUER/VERONICA DOUBLEDAY

I. General

2. The legal status of music.

3. Qur'anic recitation.

4. The call to prayer

5. Calendrical and weekly observances.

6. Prayers, praises and devotional songs.

1. Introduction.

The consideration of religious singing and instrumental music in the context of Islam is fraught with complexity and ambiguity. Strictly speaking, the words ‘Islamic religious music’ present a contradiction in terms. The practice of orthodox Sunni and Shi‘a Islam does not involve any activity recognized within Muslim cultures as ‘music’. The melodious recitation of the Holy Qur'an and the call to prayer are central to Islam, but generic terms for music have never been applied to them. Instead, specialist designations have been used. However, a wide variety of religious and spiritual genres that use musical instruments exists, usually performed at various public and private assemblies outside the orthodox sphere.

General terms relating to music within Islamic cultures require some clarification. The word samā‘ is used to distinguish between licit (halāl) and illicit (harām) music as understood by the schools of Islamic religious law and in discussions between representatives of the law schools and Sufi orders. The Arabic word ghinā’ (literally ‘song’) has sometimes been used generically for musical practice. The traditional term mūsīqī (which is classical Arabic) has been used in writings dating from the 9th century, is a loan and theoretical concept inherited from the ancient Greeks. In the countries of Islam it was rarely used in the sense of singing and instrumental music: reference to musical practice was made through a series of individual terms. The modern Arabic term mūsīqā is not representative of the traditional Islamic understanding of musical practice, but has connotations more akin to the Western sense of ‘music’. Current usage of the word mūsīqī in modern Persian is similarly general. 20th-century scholars have used some of these terms in attempts to elucidate categories of music that have been accepted or rejected according to Islamic (Shari‘a) law (see Al-Faruqi, 1985; Nasr, 1997). See Table 1.

Since its birth in the 7th century, Islam has spread over a vast geographical area stretching into China, South-east Asia, Russia, many parts of Africa and elsewhere (fig.1). From an early period orthodox jurists expressed hostility to certain kinds of music in principle, and the legal status of music has been continually contested and discussed. Sufism evolved as the mystical branch of Islam and some Sufis actively opposed the extremist puritans. Their musical practice, inspired by the message of Islam and personal religious experience, had a broad influence. Another important development was the music of commemoration and lament specific to the Shi‘a sects (see §III, 1 below).

The many forms of Muslim musical religious expression present considerable diversity, and they are often strongly local in flavour. However, there are significant unifying factors: the consistent presence of Qur'anic recitation and, within that, the influence of Egyptian style; the importance of Arabic as the language of divine inspiration in the Qur'an; and the widespread use (albeit in varied ways) of dhikr, repetitive vocalizations of names of God (see §II, 3 below).

Religious and devotional musics are variously performed by professional, semi-professional, amateur, male and female adults (and occasionally children) in solo or group styles. Some are accompanied by musical instruments or include dancing. With very few exceptions, instrumental music is not performed in mosques, where only certain types of religious recitation and singing are permitted. Other performance settings include shrines, Sufi lodges, Shi‘a religious meeting-places, homes and encampments, streets, concert platforms and recording studios.

Our present knowledge and understanding of religious and devotional music within Muslim cultures is patchy and incomplete. There are many areas where research has not been undertaken; some regions have been closed or inaccessible, and the musical role of women has not been adequately studied. From the 1970s onwards, sweeping changes precipitated by Islamization (also known as ‘fundamentalism’) and globalization have compounded the situation with fresh impulses and reactions. This survey draws upon available material and does not claim to be comprehensive.

2. The legal status of music.

There is no statement in the Holy Qur'an explicitly condemning music. Evidence in the Traditions of the Prophet Muhammad (Hadīth) clearly demonstrates that on occasion he listened to music with pleasure, but these texts are open to many interpretations. From an early period, Islamic jurists felt concern about the perceived dangers of music and began to differentiate between admissible (halāl) and inadmissible (harām) music, both sacred and secular. Between these categories there is an intermediate zone consisting of material not expressly forbidden (see above, ‘controversial’ categories, Table 1). The simple chanting of the Qur'an and the call to prayer have an uncontested lawful status, and certain types of devotional singing have been variously tolerated within the different Islamic law schools.

A rejection of music was expressed immediately after the Prophet's death, and the jurists' condemnation extended to court musicians of the Umayyad dynasty (661–750). Concern about inadmissible music increased in the 9th century, when Sufi communities introduced dance and spiritual audition (samā‘) into their ecstatic rituals. In Islamic thought, the basis of hostility to music lies in its power to stimulate the ‘lower passions’ (nafs). Individuals such as Ibn Abī al-Dunyā (d 894) theoretically condemned almost all instrumental and vocal music, yet Majd al-Dīn Ahmad al-Ghazālī (d 1126) and Abū Hāmid Muhammad al-Ghazālī (1058–1111) defended the practice of listening to music, including its usage by the Sufi orders. Arguments in favour of music have stressed the individual's ability to listen (samā‘), drawing close to the Divine. An extensive literature in Arabic, Turkish and Persian discusses admissible and inadmissible music with constant reference to verses of the Qur'an and the Hadīth. The most exhaustive collection of learned opinions is contained in the Kitāb al-imta bi-ahkām (‘Guide to the application of the rules for listening to music’, c1300) by Kamāl al-Dīn al-Adfuwī.

See also Arab music, §§I, 3(iii) and II, 2.

No universally acceptable agreement about the legal status of music was ever reached, leaving interpretation open. This has led to ambiguities. In Iran at the beginning of the 1979 Revolution, the broadcasting and public performance of music was banned. Yet, shortly before his death in 1989, Ayatollah Khomeini pronounced that music was admissible, except in the case of women singing to men and as long as it did not incite sensual passions.

3. Qur'anic recitation.

The sacred words of the Holy Qur'an pervade the experience and practice of Islam. Great importance is placed upon the proper articulation of its sound patterns in the original Arabic. In all Islamic cultures, Qur'anic recitation is performed by lay people, in a plain style, and by prayer leaders and specialist Qur'an readers, sometimes in a highly embellished form. Islamic education prescribes that children learn to recite the Qur'an by memory, a task requiring concentration upon rhythmic aspects of vocalization.

Qur'anic recitation has many applications. Verses are silently recited within the ritual prayer (Arab. salāt) performed five times daily by pious Muslims. Public recitation precedes congregational prayers and occurs within most religious rituals, and the entire Qur'an (khatm al-qur'ān) is performed during the month of Ramadan and for commemoration of the dead. At the Topkapi Museum in Istanbul, teams of reciters provide continuous recitation of the Qur'an inside the room housing important relics of the Prophet Muhammad. Although usually performed solo, collective recitation occurs; for instance in some Iraqi mosques on the ‘eve’ of Friday, or in Liberia, where collective recitation for the dead is termed fidao.

As a unique and divine text, the Qur'an is set apart from other religious texts and praises. Specialist Arabic terminology is used. Qirā'a designates Qur'anic recitation; qāri' is a trained reciter (both words derived from the same Arabic root as Qur'an). Tilāwa is a general formal term for all Qur'anic; in pre-Islamic Arabia it simply designated recitation of poetry. Tartīl, another term for recitation, especially implies slow deliberate attention to meaning, for contemplation. Tajwīd is the exact science of correct recitation.

For 300 years Egypt has been regarded as the centre of Qur'anic recitation both for accuracy and artistry, and its Qur'an readers are very respected and highly paid. There two styles are distinguished: murattal (ex.1), a plain style used in private devotion and for teaching, and mujawwad (ex.2), an embellished style reserved for public audition, performed by specialists trained in tajwīd (sharing the same Arabic root as mujawwad). Tajwīd, the system of rules regulating the correct oral rendition of the Qur'an, governs many parameters of sound production. These include precise duration of syllable, vocal timbre and pronunciation, with characteristic use of nasality and special techniques of vibration. Echoing silences between text sections add to the dynamic nature of presentation. Public Qur'anic recitation has a distinctive sound which has been profoundly influential as an aesthetic ideal.

Qur'anic recitation has developed considerably since the time of the Prophet Muhammad (570–632), who apparently enjoyed the mellifluous recitation of the holy words. By the mid-7th century, simple chanting was extended into a kind of conventional artistic concert performance. This reached a peak between the 9th and 12th centuries. Verses of the Qur'an were sung like secular poems to existing tunes, including folksongs and dance-songs: the court reciter of the Abbasid caliph Hārūn al-Rashīd (786–809) made the Qur'an sound almost like secular song. Florid styles of recitation spread to many cultural centres in the eastern Caliphate, North Africa and Muslim Spain. Orthodox legists condemned this as qirā'a bi-l-alhān (‘recitation to secular melody’). Such extreme secularization has not recurred, but the artistic limits of Qur'an reading are still discussed.

Today the science of recitation (tajwīd) is taught in specialized schools. These may exist for women as well as men, and in Egypt, Malaysia and Indonesia female Qur'an specialists have attained prominence. Qur'anic recitation has always been orally transmitted; notation is opposed. As a consequence, personal and regional variants developed. A significant aspect of qirā'a is the lack of regulations with regard to melody, except that it must enhance comprehension of the text and not be based on secular material.

The relationship between Qur'anic recitation and local traditional musical idioms is open. In West Africa, South Asia and South-east Asia, lay people generally modify the qirā'a towards the tonal idioms of their local traditions. In many areas Qur'anic chanting takes the form of a recitative mostly independent of the Arab art music tradition (maqām). But some complex and richly ornamented melismatic styles show a pronounced influence of the maqām tradition in their tonality and melodic construction. In countries including Egypt, Turkey, Syria, Iraq and Iran, chanting is taught in the tonal tradition of certain maqāms. Iraqi Qur'anic reciters usually excel as secular maqām singers (also known as qāri'), but when reciting the Qur'an they do not follow the formalized melodic ordering of the Iraqi maqām. Learning the Qur'an is sometimes the first stage of a secular singer's musical education.

International communication networks are strengthening the impact of Egypt and Arabia within global Islamic culture through education, travel and the export of materials including audio-cassettes of Qur'anic recitation. Egyptian reciters visit other Muslim countries to perform during Ramadan, and Arabization in style is evident in parts of Africa, South Asia and elsewhere.

See also Egypt, §II, 1; Iraq, §II, 2; Saudi arabia.

4. The call to prayer

(Arab. adhān/azān). The adhān is performed five times daily, loudly and in public, a prominent aspect of Muslim soundscapes. Its deliberately attractive sound invites Muslims to perform the ritual prayer (salāt), regulating daily life and creating sacred time within it.

The Prophet Muhammad is said to have instituted the vocal call in order to distinguish Islamic practice from those of other religions. The first prayer-caller (muezzin, mu‘adhdhin) was Bilāl, an Abyssinian slave and early convert to Islam. The post of muezzin soon attracted great respect, and important mosques came to employ as many as 20 muezzins at a time; in the Ottoman empire they formed their own guild. The call has not always been exclusively vocal. From the 10th century in some urban areas, military/ceremonial bands, variously called tablakhāna, Naqqārakhāna, mehterhane or naubāt, sounded the prayer times on a daily basis. By the 19th century this practice had mostly died out, but in the shrine of Imām Rezā at Mashhad, Iran, a remnant of this tradition (consisting of drums and horns) sounds out at dawn and dusk (see Iran, §III, 2(iv), fig.15). In West Africa a prayer-drum (tabula) was later replaced by a vocal call.

The vocal call consists of seven or (in Shi‘a areas) eight passages, with repetitions and certain variations according to the time of day and importance of the specific prayer. It is chanted once from the minaret, then again (called iqāma) inside the mosque, directly preceding congregational prayer. Nearly all branches of Islam allow it to be sung. The text must be clearly understandable and its pronunciation impeccable.

The musical form has no rules. Styles vary from calls at a measured pace on a single note, or within a narrow range centred on one note, to richly melismatic chants with a wide range. Regional schools may assert rules based on the choice of certain maqāms; these seldom gain general acceptance, but sometimes melodic structures are related to the maqām. Rhythmic structure is influenced by the length of the syllables in the text. Melismas seem to be associated with particular words and formulaic endings. Textual repetition often leads to repeated musical phrases differing only in their final note. Unusually, the call may be collective (see Syria, §4(i)).

Broadcasting, commerce and international travel have spread the influence of the Egyptian call, considered the model and widely imitated. The use of audiotapes as a substitute for muezzins is causing a decline in variety of the adhān, and loudspeakers often produce harsh distorted sounds. In cities where Muslims are in a minority, amplification of the adhān has caused neighbourhood conflict: use of calls broadcast on the radio creates a non-intrusive abstract communal Islamic context for worship. Western media representations often debase the adhān as a ‘sound-bite’ introducing any aspect of Muslim culture.

5. Calendrical and weekly observances.

The Islamic lunar calendar is punctuated by two major events affecting the entire Muslim community: the annual pilgrimage to Mecca (Makkah) in Saudi Arabia and the holy month of Ramadan. These culminate in two major festivals (‘Īd): ‘Īd al-Adhā (Festival of Sacrifice) and ‘Īd al-Fitr (Festival of Charity) respectively.

Military and ceremonial bands with drums, shawms, trumpets and cymbals previously used to sound out important times of the day and year. Some examples of this tradition remain, especially marking the beginning of festivals. In Morocco, Thursday evenings (the beginning of Friday, the Muslim day of rest and prayer) are announced with trumpets (nafīr) and shawms (ghayta). Similarly, in 1975 an ensemble of four large cylindrical drums (tabl) and a shawm (alghaita) were documented playing in front of the sultan's palace in Dosso, Niger, announcing the beginning of Friday as a weekly musical event attended by the general public. Thursday evening is also the traditional time for weekly Sufi gatherings.

The Friday midday congregational prayer takes place in principal mosques (‘Friday’ mosques). The structure of observances may vary, and it is quite common for supplicatory prayers (du‘ā or munājāt) or praises to Allah (tasbīh) to be sung. At the Ummayad Great Mosque in Damascus, the main Friday prayers include specific types of solo and choral singing (see Syria, §2(iii)(b)).

The month of fasting during Ramadan has a special musical character (see §(ii) below). Within Shi‘a communities the months of Muharram and (to a lesser extent) Safar are devoted to mourning, with specific types of singing and ritual (see §III, 1 below). Joyous celebrations and instrumental music are proscribed, and Shi‘a professional musicians are not normally available.

(i) Pilgrimage to Mecca (hajj).

Islamic treatises state that Mecca pilgrimage songs (tahlīl) are admissible. They may be sung on departure for Mecca, at the various stopping-points in and near Mecca, or they may be used to greet pilgrims on their return home. They are mostly choral, or solo with a choral refrain, sung by women or men according to local tradition. In Egypt they are accompanied by the mizmār baladī consisting of shawms (mizmār) and a drum (tabl baladī). Formerly military bands hailed departing pilgrims and even accompanied prominent individuals to Mecca, using a tabl al-hajj (‘pilgrims’ drum’).

At the Festival of the Sacrifice (‘Īd al-Adhā), a wealth of chanted prayers and festival invocations may be sung in mosques, at private gatherings or during the visits to cemeteries that are customary during the two principal Muslim festivals. In Turkey specifically composed pieces of Sufi origin are still performed: the bayram tekbiri (festival declamation) by Itri (d 1711/12) is used in festival ceremonies, and the bayram salati (festival prayer) by Hatib Zakiri Hasan Efendi (c1600) is sung either from the minaret or inside the mosque. Elsewhere there are festival pieces in other styles: Algerian Tuareg women perform songs for ‘Īd al-Adhā to the rhythm of a mortar drum (tinde).

(ii) Ramadan.

The beginning and end of the fast, the nightly prayer-times and the time for pre-dawn breakfast used to be announced vocally and/or with musical instruments throughout the month. In Anatolia and other areas, ceremonial naqqārakhāna bands were replaced with large cylindrical drums (davul) or by the drum and shawm (davul-zurna). In Morocco pairs of trumpets (nafīr) are blown in the streets or from the minarets.

At night the mosques are ablaze with light, and each evening congregations gather to hear a chapter of the Qur'an recited. Qur'anic recitations are also organized in homes, with invited guests. In Turkey composed songs glorifying God (temcit) are sung from the minaret between the nightly hours of prayer. Many old Turkish compositions (ilahi) are intended for specific nights of the holy month. Children sing Ramadan evening processional songs, questing for sweets and coins (see Arab music, ex.17, from Egypt). In parts of North Africa, families sing religious songs as they gather for their evening or pre-dawn meal. Ramadan music by modern Egyptian composers also exists. Secular theatrical shows and concerts used to be common, but increased religious disapproval and the advent of television and video culture has weakened live evening entertainment traditions.

The beginning of ‘Īd al-Fitr is marked with loud public sounds: ceremonial bands, cannon-fire, gunfire or (today) modern sirens. Celebratory songs are especially found in Muslim parts of Africa.

(iii) Ceremonies for the Prophet.

The anniversary of the Prophet's birthday (mawlid) is celebrated on the 12th of Rabī ‘al-awwal. Observances vary considerably from region to region, and mawlid ceremonies are performed at other times of the year (see §II, 4 below). The Prophet's miraculous ascent to heaven (mi‘rāj), described in the Qur'an, is celebrated in mosques, and especially by members of Sufi and heterodox sects.

6. Prayers, praises and devotional songs.

A restricted range of devotional singing is admissible inside the mosque. The frequency of sung prayers and their position in communal devotions within mosques depends on the authority of the various law schools. Forms include the takbīr chanting of Allāhu akbar (‘God is great’), tasbīh (praise of God) and supplicatory prayers (du‘ā and munājāt). Styles range from plain recitation to highly decorative delivery. Madīh designates sung praises (for God or the Prophet). Tawshīh and ibtihāl are free-rhythm unaccompanied solo vocal improvisations on religious poetic texts performed at festivals, ceremonies or special events such as the opening of a mosque. Ilahi (‘for God’) is a general Turkish term applied to devotional invocations. In Turkey numerous art compositions have gained acceptance in the mosques through the influence of the Sufi orders, for instance the festival pieces mentioned in §5(i) above.

The na‘t is an important form glorifying the Prophet: in Turkey it sometimes precedes daily prayers. When the Timurid theoretician ‘Abd al-Qādir (d 1435) collected song texts for all occasions as an appendix to his treatise Jāmi‘ alhān (‘Compendium of melodies’), his list began with munājāt texts and na‘ts. Serious and devotional, na‘ts and munājāts may be performed unaccompanied or as an art music genre (but in the latter case not in mosques).

Madīh praise-songs are commonly performed by itinerant singers. Northern Sudan has a famous madīh tradition going back to Hajj El-Mahi of Kassinger (c1780–1870), who composed about 330 religious poems of which handwritten copies survive. They are performed by pairs of male singers with the accompaniment of two frame drums (tār), at religious festivities, at markets or outside mosques. (See Sudan and Yemen, §I, 1(v).)

Classical poetic forms common in Muslim devotional music are the ghazal and qasīda. Ghazal, an elevated form of love song treating secular and/or divine love, is used throughout Muslim Asia; within North Indian semi-classical music, it is more romantic than religious in tone (see India, §IV, 3(ii)). The qasīda (classical Arabic ode) is an extended vocal form sometimes applied to religious themes in the Arab world. Muwashshah, the technically complex song of Arab-Andalusian tradition, has sacred connections, but is less frequently performed.

Wedding songs are an important admissible expressive outlet for women; many have religious content, invoking the blessings of God and the Prophet.

3. Dhikr and sufi ritual.

II. Sufism and popular Islam

1. Sufi music.

2. Popular Islam.

4. ‘Mawlid’.

5. The Mevlevi ayin.

6. Chishtī Sufism.

Islamic religious music, §II: Sufism and popular Islam.

1. Sufi music.

Sufism (Arab. tasawwuf) is an umbrella term applied to mystical practices that developed beyond the normal obligatory duties of Islam, both within and outside organized Sufi orders (tarīqa).

As a result of doctrinal controversy about the legal status of music (see §I, 2 above), early Sufi music avoided secular tunes and employed only reed-pipes, flutes and drums. Within many traditions, the frame drum (duff, tār, mizhār, dāire) remains the sole instrument used in communal rituals. From an early period the vocalization of the names of God (dhikr) became important (see §3 below). Ecstatic movements of the body were recognized as expressions of spontaneous emotion caused by experience of the divine, and head and arm movements, sometimes combined with simple steps, became incorporated into Sufi rituals. The Mevlevi order was the first to make dance as important as the dhikr (see §5 below). From the 14th century other orders adopted dance, as depicted in Persian miniature paintings (see fig.2). In Syria the samāh dance accompanied classical mūwashshah metric verses (see Syria, §2(ii)(a)).

From the 16th century the use of musical instruments and dancing was abandoned or forbidden within Shi‘a Sufi orders. Some orders (especially Shi‘a ones) gave up dance and/or musical performance altogether. Sufi music flourished within the Ottoman empire. From the 15th to 17th centuries, the Mevlevi, Rifā‘ī and Qādirī orders gained such strong recognition and political influence that they were able to develop their own music. This was strongly influenced by secular art music, which in turn influenced it (see Ottoman music). The South Asian Chishtī order is significant in its recognition of the use of musical instruments as valid in a devotional context (see §6 below).

Rituals are held at Sufi lodges or saints' shrines, on a weekly and occasional basis, with the aim of attaining union with God. They usually include dhikr (‘recollection of God’) (see §3 below). The various Sufi orders recognize spiritual ‘chains’ of transmission through male leaders; women have been largely excluded, although there are numerous ‘sister’ orders in Egypt. In Uighur Chinese Turkestan in 1989 a closed weekly ritual (zekr) for about a hundred women was documented as taking place without many of the husbands' approval.

Middle Eastern and Central Asian art music traditions are (to varying extents) imbued with Sufi concepts of spiritual audition, as reflected in the use of mystical song texts and reverential audience responses. The ethos and instrumentation of the Sūfiāna kalām of Kashmir also show these connections (see Kashmir, §3(i)). The Tunisian ma’lūf repertory is linked to Arab-Andalusian traditions preserved within Sufi lodges (see Tunisia, §1). The long Sufi poem in Persian, Mathnawī-i ma‘nawī by Jalāl al-Dīn Rūmī, has been spread by specialist mathnawī-singers. Its melody is found within the main vocal part of several modern dastgāhs of Persian art music (in particular the avāz-e Afshārī).

Outside the organized orders, music has an important place in certain groups which split away from Islam. Avoiding orthodox restrictions, they were able to cultivate music-making as an expression of pious emotion, developing and retaining musical forms no longer found elsewhere. The Bektaşi movement founded by Hajji Bektaş (d 1338) was accommodated within the Ottoman empire as a Sufi order, but its beliefs are heterodox, closely related to those of the Alevis and also to the Ahl-e Haqq sect (see §III, 2 below). (For an account of Yezidi sacred music and musical instruments see Kurdish music, §5.)

Islamic religious music, §II: Sufism and popular Islam.

2. Popular Islam.

Devotion to the Prophet Muhammad has popular expression at mawlids (see §4 below). Saints' shrines have provided an informal focus for religious music with strong popular appeal, and in Algeria, Morocco, Egypt and elsewhere saints' festivals (moussem, mawlid) with music attract thousands of pilgrims. In the Pakistani province of Sind, there are numerous musical shrines, those of Lāl Shahbāz Qalandar (d 1262) at Sehwan, and of Shāh Abdul Latīf (1690–1752) at Bhitshah being most notable (see Pakistan, §7(i)). At shrines and outside mosques, religious mendicants (variously known as faqīr, dervish, malang and qalandar) have improvised and disseminated religious folk music.

In Egypt religious singers (munshid) occupy a prominent role in rituals at shrines and in other settings. A leading exponent is Sheikh Yāsīn al-Tuhamī (b 1949), who specializes in the poetry of Ibn al-Fārid (d 1235). A munshid may be privately sponsored to sing at a layla or hafla dīniyya (‘religious night’), which includes dhikr and religious songs with melodic accompaniment (see Egypt, §II, 3).

Islamic and indigenous traditions mingle. In Liberia women sing ‘There is no god but Allah’ in Arabic while pounding rice for consumption at a funeral feast, combining the power of holy words with West African work-song. The use of religious invocations is notable in various traditional forms of therapy that employ music, divination and trance. Baluchistan is a desert area spanning south-eastern Iran and western Pakistan and influenced by African culture along its coast. There male musicians organize musical sessions (leb) to exorcize spirits (guat) believed to cause sickness. Instruments include the sorud (fiddle), with song texts drawn from well-known Persian Sufi poets and local material, including qalandar songs (see Iran, §III, 2(v)). In North Africa, Gnawa male professional musicians descended from African slaves have created musical sessions (lila: ‘night’) designed to induce healing trance states (hadra). These and other examples include pre-Islamic and non-Islamic practices and beliefs incorporated within Islamic mysticism.

In Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore, vocal genres known as zikir or dikir (derived from the Arabic term dhikr) have popular appeal. Various styles use group repetitive singing of religious phrases with accompaniment on small frame drums, performed in a seated position, with coordinated body movements. In Malaysia dikir barat has developed into a form of competitive entertainment. The West Sumatran form (diki) spread from Aceh in the late 16th century, influenced by the Rifā‘ī sect whose Iraqi founder was Ahmad Rifā‘ī (d 1178).

See Indonesia, §VI; Malaysia, §I, 1(v) and (vi); and Singapore.

West Sumatra has other Sufi-derived popular genres. Indang has a lead solo singer with 11–15 musicians sitting cross-legged in a row, providing interlocking drum patterns and swaying movements of the upper body. Salawat dulang uses two singers performing interlocking continuous melodies with accompaniment on brass trays. These enliven weddings, circumcisions, death ceremonies and national and religious holidays. In Indonesia qasidah moderen (‘modern ode’) designates a popular type of religious music typically performed by a lead singer (usually female) and modern instrumentation (see Indonesia, §VIII, 1).

As the language of the Qur'an, Arabic has a special elevated status, greatly appreciated even in areas where it is not understood. The Taussig people of the sourthern Philippines have a tradition of highly melismatic songs in Arabic known as lugu, performed mainly by women (see Philippines, §II, 1(ii) (d)). (See also §III, 2(i) below.)

Islamic religious music, §II: Sufism and popular Islam.

3. Dhikr and sufi ritual.

The remarkable ecstatic rituals of the Sufis usually focus on the communal utterance (dhikr/zikr) of the sacred name of God (Allāh) and phrases such as Allāh hū (‘God is he’). The declaration (tawhīd) in Arabic of ‘There is no god but Allah’ is also commonly used. The term dhikr (or zikr) literally means the ‘remembrance’ of God. It refers both to the act of naming God and to the actual words or phrases used. In many societies it also designates the entire ritual session, but in North Africa this is called hadra (‘in the presence of [God]’) or in Sudan noba.

The Sufi dhikr rituals include recitations from the Qur'an, prayers and, optionally, singing. Group performances, coordinated by a religious leader, usually last several hours. Depending on tradition, the devotees stand, sit or dance in a circle or lines. Rhythmic breathing accompanies the constant repetition of the dhikrs, usually with regular body movements. Performance usually entails several phases, sometimes accelerating in tempo and dynamism. Many orders use frame drums for additional rhythmic effect.

Dhikr can be performed silently (as within the Naqshbandī order) or aloud, spoken or sung to a simple series of notes. Soloists or several singers (in unison or heterophony) often accompany the dhikr, commonly using classical forms such as the ghazal or qasīda. Most Ottoman orders (except the Mevlevi) formerly sang durak songs as solos or in chorus, with free improvisation, in pauses within the ritual. Turkish Sufis sometimes sing a form of mystical poetry (tevhit), which evolved from the tevhit (Arab. tawhīd) declaration ‘There is no god but Allah’. In some orders (e.g. Mevlevi and Rifā‘ī), dhikr and dance are performed side by side, complementing each other. In others dhikr, musical performance and dance-like movement may alternate or occur simultaneously. Among the Dayfī and Shadhilī in Alexandria and ‘Ammārī in Morocco, some participants dance while the rest perform the dhikr.

Outside the Sufi orders, dhikr has quite varied applications. Female dhikr performances have been documented in Transoxania (Central Asia) for many centuries. In the Ferghana valley, Uzbekistan, professional women religious practitioners (otin-oi) sing texts including classical poetry and dhikrs at life-cycle events and for problem-solving sessions (mushgelkushā). In western Afghanistan women use dhikrs as a form of lullaby. In Tajikistan female and male professional experts use them in shamanistic divinatory ceremonies (kōch) to call spirits for diagnostic and healing purposes. In Indonesia dikir maulud is used in contexts such as celebrations on passing a Qur'an-reading examination.

Islamic religious music, §II: Sufism and popular Islam.

4. ‘Mawlid’.

The term mawlid (‘birthday’) refers to celebrations attending the Prophet Muhammad's birthday or other occasions. There are many linguistic variants, the most common being mālid, mawlūd, mevlit, mevlut, milād, mōlid and mūlid. Mawlid designates both the festival and the hymns of praise and epics about the Prophet's life performed there.

The Prophet's birthday has been celebrated since at least the 9th century, and by the end of the 12th century it had become a magnificent festival with various musical and other entertainments. According to region, the mawlid developed in very different ways, offering scope for popular musical expression in local vernacular styles. These observances are particularly important in the Arab world, Turkey and Muslim Africa, being more muted (or absent) in other areas. In South Asia the milād has developed as a women's event, held at home to mark auspicious occasions (see India, §VI, 2).

Performance of the mawlid is not restricted to the Prophet's birthday, but can mark anniversaries of local saints (held at their shrines) and official and private days of commemoration, both joyful and sad. Performances may be held in public or private spaces, including saints' shrines and mosque courtyards, but rarely in the prayer hall itself. At outdoor venues where huge crowds gather, there may be other entertainments, such as fireworks, as in Libya.

In Egypt mawlids resemble vast fairs, with dhikr performances by many different Sufi orders, funfairs and secular entertainments. The mawlid in Cairo honouring the death of Husayn (the Prophet's grandson) draws huge crowds and lasts for several weeks. The October mawlid of Abū Haggāg in Luxor features a procession of boats as in pre-Islamic ceremonies related to the annual flooding of the Nile.

As performed in the Middle East, the mawlid generally begins with an introductory recitation from the Qur'an. There are songs in the qasīda and tawshih forms, and anecdotal sections describing the Prophet's life, performed solo in improvised free rhythm. Interspersed, there may be choral songs which invite audience participation. In Iraq the mawlid is divided into four sections, each comprising three to seven maqāms, marked off by metric songs in colloquial Arabic (see Iraq, §II, 3). In Turkey mevlit compositions began using the makams of art music in the 18th century, developing ‘improvised’ settings with precise rules for the selection of makam to text, as transmitted within schools for professional mevlit singers. In rural areas of Turkey, the mevlit is performed as a recitative with a narrow range but with impressive climaxes. However, styles vary considerably. In Oman and other parts of the Gulf, mālid ceremonies are conducted by two groups of men facing one another under the leadership of a shaykh (fig.3; see also Oman, §3(iv)).

Certain texts are commonly used within the mawlid. A Turkish mevlit, Vasilet ün-nejât (‘Way to salvation’), written by Sülyman Çelebi in 1409, spread throughout the Ottoman empire, known simply as ‘the mevlit’. The Arabic text by Ja‘far al-Barzanjī (d 1765), composed of prose narratives and accompanying invocations and poems, is used in Iraq and elsewhere. In North Africa al-burda (‘the Prophet's cloak’) is the best-known epic about the Prophet, chanted in its entirety once a week at the tomb of Sharaf al-Dīn al-Būsīrī (d 1298) in the centre of Alexandria, and used in mawlids.

Essentially popular, ceremonies for the Prophet's birthday borrow extensively from local musical styles. In the Dagbon area of northern Ghana, the damba festival entails performance on the damba (hourglass drum). In the Atlas mountains of Morocco, women perform highly rhythmic group singing, accompanied by drumming (on bendīrs), hand-clapping and ululation. In Liberia the mahodi festival includes an innovative dramatic enactment by women of the birth; the audience participates with singing, dancing and hand-clapping led by a song-leader (suku-ba) performing in Arabic. There are also reciters in Arabic, and translators work phrase by phrase, directly explaining the Arabic narrative content. The educational aspect of the Prophet's birthday celebrations is evident elsewhere. In Pakistan, schools and colleges present impressive milāds, and in Egypt children participate in group singing of mawlid songs glorifying the Prophet's life and work.

Celebrations for the Prophet's birthday present considerable diversity. Types of music (which may include audience participation) allow the strong expression of emotions ranging from happiness and exhilaration, spiritual ecstasy, and even the pain of separation, as in Iraq, when songs of separation (fragiyyāt) are performed in dialect. Melodic instruments are rarely used, but Java has a sacred type of gamelan (gong/metallophone ensemble) termed gamelan sekati. This provides music for the week of Sekaten, for seven days leading up to the Prophet's birthday, performing throughout the day and most of the night.

Islamic religious music, §II: Sufism and popular Islam.

5. The Mevlevi ayin.

Founded by ‘Mawlānā’ Jalāl al-Dīn Rūmī (1207–1273), the Mevlevi (Arab. Mawlawī) order was the first to develop dance with set forms and strict rules for group performance. Its centre is at Rūmī's tomb in Konya, Turkey.

The ceremonial dance (ayin-i şerif or mukabele) has retained its sacred ethos but now also flourishes as a tourist attraction and concert phenomenon. Its standardized musical form probably originated in the 17th century, the current version being a 19th-century development. Ayin compositions can be traced back to the 16th century. Over 100 reputedly survive (some as fragments), most by well-known composers. From the 18th century some were notated and over 40 are published. With closure of the Sufi orders in Turkey in 1925, Mevlevi rituals continued clandestinely, but in 1946 the ayin became officially permitted at anniversary celebrations of Rūmī's death at Konya.

The ayin is preceded and followed by Qur'anic recitation and prayers and is accompanied by Turkish art music songs and musical instruments. The original instrumentation of end-blown flute (ney) and frame drum (def) or small kettledrums (kudüm) is retained in country districts, but in western Anatolia and Istanbul it was gradually enlarged to include several flutes, a long-necked lute (tanbur), a fiddle (rebab), several pairs of small kettledrums and a pair of cymbals (halile) (fig.4).

Three introductory passages precede the dance: the na‘t (addressing the Prophet) composed by Itri (in makam rast and türkizarb metre); a non-metric taksim on flute, establishing the underlying makam; and the instrumental peşrev in devr-i kebir metre, usually in four sections, each ending with a refrain (teslim). The dance is performed to four vocal compositions known as selams (‘salutations’), usually to texts by Rūmī or his son Sultan Veled, chosen according to the makam of the day, which used to vary from week to week. The first selam has no set metre; the second is usually slow (ağir evfer metre); the third and longest has several vocal and instrumental sections in devr-i kebir metre, ending with an aksak semai, a saz semaisi and a yürük semai; the fourth selam may be a repetition of the second. The ayin closes with an instrumental postlude (son peşrev) and a piece named after its metre, son yürük semai.

The dancers move serenely in a continuous turning motion, the head characteristically tilted and arms raised sideways, right hand turned upwards and left downwards. They move in two rings around the sheikh who slowly gyrates in the centre, breaking the formation after each selam to move around once more.

Islamic religious music, §II: Sufism and popular Islam.

6. Chishtī Sufism.

The Chishtī order was founded by Mu‘īnuddīn Chishtī (d 1236), from the village of Chisht in western Afghanistan. His shrine at Ajmer, North India, is highly venerated by Muslims and non-Muslims as a pilgrimage site. It is an important centre for qawwālī, an ecstatic style performed by hereditary male professional singers with harmoniums supported by drums (dholak or tablā), hand-clapping and other voices (solo and in chorus). Chishtī Sufism is widespread in Pakistan and North India, significant for its ideology supporting the use of instrumental music in spiritual concerts (samā‘). Its major form, qawwālī, employs texts in Persian, Urdu and other local languages such as Punjabi, often by notable poets. Performers such as the Sabri Brothers and Nusrat Fateh Ali Khān have achieved commercial success and brought this music to a globalized and non-Muslim audience.

See also India, §VI, 2(ii) and Afghanistan, §I, 4.

III. Shi‘a Islam

Shi‘a communities are found in an area stretching from East Africa to India and beyond. Shi‘ism originated in the political and religious faction following ‘Alī, the Prophet Muhammad's son-in-law. Political failure and the death of ‘Alī's son Husayn in the battle of Karbala in Iraq (680) led to fervent worship of saints and martyrs, and the development of specific genres of religious recitation, lamentation and drama.

1. Mourning ceremonies.

(i) Gatherings and processions.

The anniversary of Husayn's death on the 10th of Muharram (Arab. ‘āshūrā: ‘tenth’) is the focus of group lamentation observed over many days (10 or 40). Special religious gatherings are held in homes and religious meeting-places (tekie; imāmbara in South Asia). In Iraq, Iran and Afghanistan, male specialist rowze singers sermonize and chant recitations (rowze) about the martyrs’ lives; these may be interspersed with dirges (nowhe). The most important rowze singers are esteemed as virtuosos, and their material may overlap in structure with local art music repertories. Rowze has application at any time of the year and is used in commemorating the death of family members. Folksongs and children's songs with religious content are sung during Muharram and other occasions, including feast days such as Omar-koshūn (‘The slaying of the Caliph Omar’).

In South Asia, the Muharram assembly (majlis) opens with ornate and expressive invocations (sōz and salām) by specialist performers trained in rāga music. Accompanists support the solo melody with a vocal drone. Marsiya is a narrative style, and simple nowhe laments precede the final mātam hymns during which all the participants stand, beat their breasts and fervently call out. (For transcriptions see India, §VI, 2, ex.19 and ex.20.)

Shi‘a women may attend public mourning ceremonies, sitting separately, but they also commemorate Muharram in closed all-female gatherings at home. In Iraq, ten days of consecutive sessions (qirayyāt al-husayniyya) are led by a specialist reciter (mullāya), declaiming from a book in a highly dramatic way. Her assistants clap in rhythm, and she evokes coordinated cries from members of the audience, who also beat their chests rhythmically. Two girls loosen their hair and perform a mourning dance to a rapid rhythm. In a most impressive style (‘Indian women's style’), the women all stand, beating their chests and repeating the syllable ‘Ha’ or ‘sayn’ with accelerating speed and accented off-beats, sometimes attaining trance states.

Outdoor Muharram processions (daste-gardānī) originated in the streets of Baghdad from the 10th century. They became more elaborate after Shi‘ism became the state religion of Iran in 1502. They are performed in Iraq (centring on Karbala), Iran, Afghanistan (prior to Taliban rule), Pakistan and India (especially in Lucknow). Individual processions are organized by district, rehearsed and directed by a leader. Male performers move in rhythm through the alleys of their quarter, singing antiphonal nowhe songs and beating their breasts (sīnezanī) or striking their bare backs with small bundles of chains (zenjīrzanī). The songs are heavily rhythmic; and the blows on the performer's breast and back fall on the downbeat (see Iran, §III, 2(ii), ex.1).

(ii) Ta‘ziye.

Ta‘ziye is remarkable as the only type of indigenous religious drama in the Islamic world. From at least the 18th century, theatrical plays (ta‘ziye or shabih) depicting the martyrdom of Husayn were staged during Muharram and at other times, especially in Iran. They were first performed at crossroads, marketplaces and town squares, then in special buildings (tekie, tekie husayniye). The heyday of ta‘ziye was the second half of the 19th century: plays performed in Tehran's impressive royal Tekie Dawlat (built in the 1870s next to the palace) involved numerous players, a chorus and military ensemble. In Iran royal patronage was withdrawn under Pahlavi rule, and ta‘ziye was banned for a while. The corpus of ta‘ziye plays is very large, and since the 1979 Revolution there is renewed interest in Iran in this popular art. A related tradition exists in the Shi‘a village of Nabawiya in Lebanon, with an impressive presentation of the martyrdom story, an elegy singer and some choral passages by actors.

Ta‘ziye means ‘consolation’, and, like the rowze and qirayyāt al-husayniyya, its purpose is to evoke remembrance and weeping. In Iran and Iraq certain conventions are used: the ‘bad characters’, Husayn's opponents, wear red and declaim in violent shrieking voices, whereas Husayn and his party wear green and sing their parts (see Iran, §III, 2(iii), ex.2). Drums and wind instruments may be used, with different instrumentation allotted to the opposing forces.

See also Iran, §III, 2(ii) and (iii); Iraq, §III, 1(ii); and India, §VI, 2.

2. Heterodox sects.

(i) Alevi and Bektaşi.

The term Alevi refers to Anatolian heterodox communities worshipping ‘Alī, Husayn and the Shi‘a imams; they are closely related to the Bektaşi Sufi sect. Closed ceremonial gatherings (cem) involve poetry, music and dance. They take place on feast days (including the 10th of Muharram and the Persian New Year representing ‘Alī's birthday), initiation ceremonies and private gatherings (muhabbet).

Highly respected within their own communities, Alevi musicians are among the most gifted singers in Turkey. They have considerably influenced aşik singers such as aşik Veysel. Aşik initiation dreams are modelled on Bektaşi and Alevi initiation rites, and the social criticism within aşik songs revives old Bektaşi musical traditions. The Alevi repertory includes deyiş and nefes (‘breath’) poems of mystical love. The latter are always metric (usually with six or nine beats), structurally resembling the main form of aşik poetry, koşma (see Turkey, §II, 3). Texts are by religious poets of the 14th century to 20th. Other genres are düyaz, addressed to the 12 Shi‘a imams, and mersiye laments for Husayn. Alevi musicians are skilled performers on the long-necked lute (saz or Bağlama) to which religious symbolism is attached. Its body represents ‘Alī: the neck is his sword, and the 12 strings of the large saz symbolize the 12 imams.

In Istanbul, Bektaşi music is influenced by Turkish art music. Their early 20th-century nefes songs resemble makam-style ilahi songs of other Sufi orders in tonality and form, and they are accompanied by instrumental ensembles. Emigrant communities maintain their traditions in Germany (see fig.6; see also Turkey, §VI).

(ii) Ahl-e Haqq.

This secret sect is principally Kurdish, with religious poetry performed to music as a prominent feature of its closed gatherings. The concept of music as the way to the Knowledge of God appears in many legends, and in their name, meaning ‘Followers of divine truth’. As with the Alevi, their long-necked lute has religious symbolism (see Iran, fig.14). It is used to play Kurdish folktunes (dastgāh) analogous to the Alevi makam, but dissimilar to the dastgāh of Persian art music.

3. Zūrkhāne.

In Iran ritual athletic training within the zurkhāne (‘house of strength’) has a religious character. The gymnastic exercises were originally primarily intended to train the breath. Pre-Islamic tradition mingles with the influences of medieval Islamic men's leagues and guilds, military training and Shi‘a piety. Music within the zurkhāne includes recitations of Sufi poems by the morshed (leader) to his own accompaniment on a large clay goblet drum (zarb).

a: historical sources in arabic

BIBLIOGRAPHY

and other resources

b: general

c: qur'anic recitation

d: the call to prayer

e: festivals and ceremonies

f: sufi music and mysticism

g: sufi dance

h: music of the shī'a

i: heterodox sects

j: recordings

and other resources

a: historical sources in arabic

K. al-Adfuwi: Kitāb al-imtā‘ bi-ahkām al-samā‘ [Book on applying the rules about listening to music] (MS, Cairo, Dar al Kutub)

A. al Nabulusi: Idāh al-dalālāt fisama al ālāt [Clear exposition of the arguments on listening to musical instruments] (Damascus, 1885)

D.B. Macdonald: ‘Emotional Religion in Islam as affected by Music and Singing, being a Translation of a Book on the Ihyā ‘ulūm ad-dīn of al-Ghazzālī’, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society (1901), 195–252, 705–48; (1902), 1–28

J. Robson, trans.: Tracts on Listening to Music: Being Dhamm al-malāhī by ibn Abī'l Dunyā and Bawāriq al-ilmā‘ by Majd al-Dīn al-Tūsī al-Ghazzālī (London, 1938)

J. Robson: ‘A Maghribi MS: on Listening to Music’, Islamic Culture, xxvi/1 (1952), 113–31 [trans. of Muhammad Ibn Ibrāhīm al-Shalahī: Kitāb al-itmā‘ wa-’ l-intifā‘ fi mas'alat samā‘ al-samā‘]

J.R. Michot, trans.: ‘Musique et danse selon Ibn Taymiyya “Le livre du sama‘ et de la danse (Kitab al-sama‘ wa-l-raqs)” compilé par le shaykh Muhammad al-Manbiji’, Etudes musulmanes, xxxiii (Paris, 1991)

b: general

GEWM, i (‘Islam in Liberia’; L. Monts)

E.W. Lane: An Account of the Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians (London, 1836, 5/1860/R by E.S. Poole 1966)

H.G. Farmer: A History of Arabian Music to the XIIIth Century (London, 1929/R)

G. Pesenti: Canti sacri e profani: danze e ritmi degli arabi, dei somali e dei suaheli (Milan, 1929)

Suphi Ezgi: Nazarî ve amelî Türk musikisi [Theory and practice of Turkish music], iii (Istanbul, c1938)

S.N. Ergun: Türk musikisi antolojisi [Anthology of Turkish music], i (Istanbul, 1942–3)

Türk folklor araştırmaları [Studies on Turkish folklore], i– (Istanbul, 1949–)

H.G. Farmer: ‘The Religious Music of Islam’, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society (1952), 60–65

H.G. Farmer: ‘The Music of Islam’, NOHM, i (1957), 421–77, esp. 438

M.L. Roy Choudhury: ‘Music in Islam’, Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal: Letters, xxiii (1957), 43–102

H. Hickmann and Charles-Grégoire, Duc de Mecklembourg: Catalogue d'enregistrements de musique folklorique égyptienne (Strasbourg, 1958, 2/1979)

M. Schneider: ‘Der Zusammenhang von Melodie und Text im Kultgesang nicht-christlicher Religionen’,Musik und Altar, xv (1962–3), 12–21

J. al-Hanafī: Al-Mughannūn al-Baghdādiyūn wa-al-maqām al-‘irāqī [The musicians of Baghdad and the maqām al-‘irāqī] (Baghdad, 1964)

H. al-Wardī: Al-ghinā al-‘irāqī [Different kinds of Iraqi songs] (Baghdad, 1964)

N. Caron and D. Safvate: Iran: les traditions musicales (Paris, 1966)

H.G. Farmer: Islam, Musikgeschichte in Bildern, iii/2 (Leipzig, 1966, 3/1989)

A. Shiloah: ‘L'Islam et la musique’, Encyclopédie des musiques sacrées, ed. J. Porte, i (Paris, 1968), 414–21

Y. Öztuna: Türk musikisi ansiklopedisi [Encyclopedia of Turkish music], 2 vols (Istanbul, 1969–74)

H. Hickmann: ‘Die Musik des arabisch-islamischen Bereichs’, in H. Hickman and W. Stauder: Orientalische Musik (Leiden, 1970), 1–134

K. Reinhard: ‘Grundlagen und Ergebnisse der Erforschung türkischer Musik’, AcM, xliv (1972), 266–80

S.H. Nasr: ‘Islam and Music: the Views of Rūzbahān Baqli, the Patron Saint of Shiraz’,Studies in Comparative Religion, x (1976), 37–45

L.I. al-Farūqī: ‘The Status of Music in Muslim Nations: Evidence from the Arab World’, AsM, xii (1979), 56–84

L.I. al-Farūqī: ‘Music, Musicians and Muslim Law’, AsM, xvii/1 (1985), 3–36

M. Kartomi: ‘Muslim Music in West Sumatran Culture’, World of Music, xxviii/3 (1986), 13–30

J. Pacholczyk: ‘Music and Islam in Indonesia’, World of Music, xxviii/3 (1986), 3–11

J. During: Musique et mystique dans les traditions de l'Iran (Paris, 1989)

C. Poché: ‘De l'homme parfait a l'expressivité musicale: courants esthétiques arabes au XXe siècle’, Cahiers de musiques traditionelles, vii (1994), 59–74

B. Arps: ‘To Propagate Morals Through Popular Music: the Indonesian Qasida Moderen’,Qasida Poetry in Islamic Asia and Africa, i, ed. S. Sperl and C. Shackle (Leiden, 1996), 389–409

T. Levin: The Hundred Thousand Fools of God: Musical Travels in Central Asia (and Queen's, New York) (Bloomington, IN, 1996)

S.H. Nasr: ‘Islam and Music: the Legal and the Spiritual Dimensions’, Enchanting Powers: Music in the World's Religions, ed. L. Sullivan (Cambridge, MA, 1997), 219–35

R.B. Qureshi: ‘Sounding the Word: Music in the Life of Islam’, Enchanting Powers: Music in the World's Religions, ed. L. Sullivan (Cambridge, MA, 1997), 263–98

c: qur'anic recitation

G. Bergsträsser and K. Huber: ‘Koranlesung in Kairo’, Der Islam, xx (1932), 1–42; xxi (1933), 110–40

P. Boneschi: ‘La qasīda fi’ t-tağwīd attribuée à Mūsā ibn ‘Ubayd Allāh ibn Hāqān’, Rendiconti della Reale Accademia nazionale dei Lincei, xiv (1938), 51–92

J. Cantineau and L. Barbès: ‘La récitation coranique à Damas et à Alger’, Annales de l'Institut d'études orientales, vi (1942–7), 66–107

M. Schneider: ‘Le verset 94 de la sourate VI du Coran, étudié en une version populaire et en trois nagamât de tradition hispano-musulmane’, AnM, ix (1954), 80–96

M. Talbi: ‘La qirā'a bi-l-alhān’ [Reading of the Qur'an in (secular) melodies], Arabica, v (1958), 183

Si Hamza Boubakeur: ‘Psalmodie coranique’, Encyclopédie des musiques sacrées, ed. J. Porte, i (Paris, 1968), 388–403

D. Baibars: Talhīn al-Qur'ān bain ahl al-fann wa-rijāl-dīn [Qur'anic cantillation as a discussion between musicians and religious authorities] (Cairo, c1970)

K. al Najmī: ‘“Uzamā” al-muqarri īn wa-mustaqbal al-taghannī bi-l-Qur'ān’ [The outstanding readers of the Qur'an and the future of Qur'anic cantillation], Al-Hilāl, lxxviii (1970), 48

L. al-Sa‘īd: Al-Taghannī bi-l-Qur'ān [Koranic cantillation] (Cairo, 1970)

J.M. Pacholczyk: Regulative Principles in the Koran Chant of Shaikh ‘Abdu’l-Bāsit ‘Abdu’s-Samad (diss., UCLA, 1970)

J.M. Pacholczyk: ‘Vibrato as a Function of Modal Practice in the Qur'ān Chant of Shaikh ‘Abdu'l-Bāsit ‘Abdu’s-Samad’, Selected Reports in Ethnomusicology, ii/1 (1974), 33–41

H.H. Touma: ‘Die Koranrezitation: eine Form der religiösen Musik der Araber’,Baessler-Archiv, xxiii (1975), 87–120

L. al-Farūqī: ‘Tartil al-Qur'an al-Karim’, Islamic Perspective: Studies in Honour of Sayyid Abul A‘la Mawdudi, ed. K. Ahmad and Z.I. Ansari (Leicester,1979), 105–19

K. Nelson: ‘Reciter and Listener: Some Factors Shaping the Mujawwad Style of Qur'anic Reciting’,EthM, xxvi (1982), 41–8

K. Nelson: The Art of Reciting the Qur'an(Austin, 1985)

U. Wegner: ‘Transmitting the Divine Revelation: Some Aspects of Textualism and Textual Variability in Qur'anic Recitation’, World of Music, xxviii/3 (1986), 57–76

A. Shiloah: ‘La voix et les techniques vocales chez les Arabes’, Cahiers de musiques traditionelles, iv (1991), 85–101

d: the call to prayer

G. Weil: Der Gebetsruf der Mohammedaner (Berlin, 1929)

R.A. Blasdell: ‘The Use of the Drum for Mosque Services’, Moslem World, xxx (1940), 41

B. Mauguin: ‘L'appel à la prière dans l'Islam’, Encyclopédie des musiques sacrées, ed. J. Porte, i (Paris, 1968), 404–8

F. Hoerburger: Volksmusik in Afghanistan, nebst einem Exkurs über Qor'ân-Rezitation und Thora-Kantillation in Kabul (Regensburg, 1969), 95ff, 123

L. al-Sa‘īd: Al-Adhān wa-l-mu'adhdhinūn [Prayer call and the muezzins] (Cairo, 1970)

F. Hoerburger: ‘Gebetsruf und Qor'ān-Rezitation in Kathmandu (Nepal)’, Baessler-Archiv, xxiii (1975), 121

e: festivals and ceremonies

T. Canaan: Mohammedan Saints and Sanctuaries in Palestine (London, 1927/R)

A. Chottin: ‘Note sur le “Nfîr”’ (trompette du Ramadān)’,Hespéris, vii (1927), 376–80

A. Rifat and others, eds.: Türk musikisi klasiklerinden ilâhîler [Ilâhi hymns from classical Turkish music], i–iii (Istanbul, 1931–3)

A. Chottin: ‘Airs populaires marocains’, Le ménestrel, xciv (1932), 351, 359, 367

F.L. MacCallum, ed.: The Mevlidi Sherif by Süleyman Chelebi (London, 1943)

Aboû Châsma: ‘Origine du “Mawlid” ou fête de la naissance du prophète’,Bulletin des études arabes, v (1945), 147

Suphi Ezgi: Temcit-na‘t-salat-durak [Temcit, na‘t, salat and durak hymns and chants] (Istanbul, 1946)

J. Németh: ‘Die Zeremonie des Mevlud in Vidin’, Acta orientalia Academiae scientiarum hungaricae, i (1950–51), 134

E. Littmann, ed.: Islamisch-arabische Heiligenlieder (Mainz, 1951)

A.R. Sağman: Mevlid nasıl okunur ve mevlidhanlar [How to sing the mevlid, the famous mevlid singers] (Istanbul, 1951)

G.E. von Grunebaum: Muhammadan Festivals (New York, 1951/R, 2/1958)

A. Ateş, ed.: Süleyman Çelebi: Vesîletü'n-necât (mevlid) [Süleyman Çelebi: epic poem on the birth of the prophet] (Ankara, 1954)

J. Jomier and J. Corbon: ‘Le Ramadan, au Caire, en 1956’,Mélanges: Institut dominicain d'études orientales du Caire, iii (1956), 1–74

B.S. Rasheed: Egyptian Folk Songs (New York and Cairo, 1958)

E. Bannerth: ‘Une chanson populaire de pèlerinage’, Mélanges: Institut dominicain d'études orientales du Caire, vi (1959–61), 403

A. Türkmenoğlu: Ilâhi mecmuası [Collection of Ilâhi texts] (Istanbul, 1962)

I. Ilgar: Mevlid (Istanbul, 1965)

H.R. Şenses: Bu günün meşhur huffazı kiramı ve mevlithanları [Famous Qur'an and mevlid singers of today] (Istanbul, 1965)

N. Çağtay: ‘The Tradition of Mavlid Recitations in Islam particularly in Turkey’,Studia islamica, xxviii (1968), 127

A. Chottin: ‘Panégyriques et musiques religieuses populaires dans la religion musulmane’, Encyclopédie des musiques sacrées, ed. J. Porte, i (Paris, 1968), 409–13

N.A. Jairazbhoy: ‘L'Islam en Inde et au Pakistan’, ibid., 454–63

S. Kinney: ‘Drummers in Dagbon: the Role of the Drummer in the Damba Festival’, EthM, xiv (1970), 258–65

A. Mursi: Al-Ughniya al-sha‘biyya [The folksong] (Cairo, 1970), 90ff

A. Simon: Studien zur ägyptischen Volksmusik (Hamburg, 1972)

A.K. Belviranlı: Mûsikî rehberi: dînî mûsikî [Guide to music: religious music] (Istanbul, 1975)

L.I. al-Farūqī: ‘The Mawled’, World of Music, xxviii/3 (1986), 79–87

N. and R. Tapper: ‘The Birth of the Prophet: Ritual and Gender in Turkish Islam’, Man, xxii (1987), 69–92

E. Waugh: The Munshidin of Egypt: Their World and Their Song (Columbia, SC, 1989)

f: sufi music and mysticism

D.B. Macdonald: ‘Saints and the Ascetic-Ecstatic Life in Islam’, ‘The Mystery of Man's Body and Mind’, The Religious Attitude and Life in Islam (Chicago, 1909/R), 157–219, 252

A. al-Hujwírí: The Kashf al mahjúb: the Oldest Persian Treatise on Sufism, ed. R.A. Nicholson (London and Leyden, 1911/R, 2/1936/R)

A.N. Tarlan: Divan edebiyatinda tevhidler [Tevhid poems in Turkish art poetry] (Istanbul, 1936)

Sirajul Hag: ‘Samā‘ and Rags of the Darwishes’, Islamic Culture, xviii (1944), 111–30

A. Gölpınarlı: Mevlânâ'dan sonra mevlevîlik [The Mevlevî order after the death of Mevlânâ J. Rūmī] (Istanbul,1953)

V.M. Kocatürk, ed.: Tekke şiiri antolojisi [Anthology of Turkish monastic poetry] (Ankara,1955)

H. Ritter: Das Meer der Seele: Mensch, Welt und Gott in den Geschichten des Farīduddīn ‘Aţţār (Leiden, 1955/R)

H. Hickmann: ‘Un zikr dans le mastaba de Debhen, Guîzah (4ième dynastie)’, JIFMC, ix (1957), 59–62

K.H. Aïssou: ‘Musique et mystique au Maroc’, Encyclopédie des musiques sacrées, ed. J. Porte, i (Paris, 1968), 464–6

N.A. Jairazbhoy: ‘L'Islam en Inde et au Pakistan’, ibid., 454–63

B. Mauguin: ‘Musique de mosquée et musique de confrérie en Turquie’, ibid., 422–40

Ibn al-Qaisarānī: Kitāb al-samā‘ [Book on listening to music], ed. A. al-Wafā' al-Marāghī (Cairo, 1970)

Syed Shah Khusro Hussaini: ‘Bund samā‘ (or Closed Audition)’, Islamic Culture, xliv (1970), 177

A. Simon: ‘Islamische und Afrikanische Elemente in der Musik des Nordsudan am Beispiel des dikr’, HJbMw, i (1975), 249–78

A.L. Troitskaya: ‘Iz proshlogo kalandarov i maddakhov v uzbekistane [From the history of qalandars and maddah singers of Uzbekistan]’, Domusul' manskie verovaniia i obriadi v srednei azii, ed. G.P. Snesarev and V.N. Basilov (Moscow, 1975), 191–223

J. During: ‘Structure du rhythme dans la musique de transe du Baloutchistan’, RdM, lxii (1976), 213–25

D. Safvat: ‘Musique et mystique’, Etudes traditionnelles, no.483 (1984), 42–54, 94–108

R. Burkhardt Qureshi: Sufi Music of India and Pakistan: Sound, Context and Meaning in Qawwali (Cambridge, 1986)

J. During: Musique et extase: l'audition mystique dans la tradition soufie (Paris, 1988)

J. During: Musique et mystique dans les traditions de l'Iran (Paris, 1989)

J. During: ‘L'autre oreille: le pouvoir mystique de la musique au Moyen-Orient’, Cahiers de musiques traditionelles, iii (1990), 57–78

J. During: Baloutchistan: musiques d'extase et de guérison (1992)

J. During: ‘What is Sufi Music?’, The Legacy of Mediaeval Persian Sufism, ed. L. Lewisohn (London, 1992), 277–87

R. Sultanova: ‘Poyutchee slovo uzbekskih obrgadov’ [The singing word of Uzbek incantations], Konjik (1994), 5–105

R. Sultanova: ‘Rituels poétiques et musicaux des femmes de la vallée du Ferghana (Ouzbekistan)’, Musées/Hommes, iv (1994), 58–62

A. Hammarlund, T. Olssen and E. Ozdalga, eds.: Sufism, Music and Society in Turkey and the Middle East (Istanbul, in prep.) [incl. R. Sultanova: ‘Sufi Female Rites in Modern Uzbekistan’]

g: sufi dance

Les voyages du Sieur du Loir (Paris, 1654), 149ff

H. Ritter: ‘Der Reigen der “tanzenden Derwisché”’, Zeitschrift für vergleichende Musikwissenschaft, i (1933), 28

A. Rifat and others, eds.: Mevlevî âyînleri [Âyîn compositions of the Mevlevî] (Istanbul, 1934–9)

E. Dermenghem: Le culte des saints dans l'Islam maghrébin (Paris, 1954/R)

F. Meier: ‘Der Derwischtanz: Versuch eines Überblicks’, Asiatische Studien, viii (1954), 107

M. Rezvani: Le théâtre et la danse en Iran (Paris, 1962)

H. Ritter: ‘Die Mevlânafeier in Konya vom 11.–17. Dezember 1960’, Oriens, xv (1962), 249

M. Molé: ‘La danse extatique en Islam’, Les danses sacrées (Paris, 1963), 147–280

H.Z. Ülken: ‘L'amour divin et la danse mystiqué’, Ilâhiyat fakültesi dergisi [Ankara], xiv (1966), 13

H.Z. Ülken: Mevlânâ ve mevlevâ a âyînleri [Mevlânâ J. Rûmî and the dances of the Mevlevî] (Istanbul, 1969)

K. Reinhard: ‘Strukturanalyse einer Hymne des türkischen Komponisten Itrî (1640–1711)’, Musik als Gestalt und Erlebnis: Festschrift Walter Graf, ed. E. Schenk (Vienna, 1970), 158–77

H.P. Seidel: ‘Studien zum Usul ‘Devri Kebir’ in den Peşrev der Mevlevi’, Mitteilungen der deutschen Gesellschaft für Musik des Orients, xi (1972–3), 7–70

S. Heper and Z. Akyığı, eds.: 43 âyîn külliyati [Collection of 43 âyîn compositions] (Konya,1973)

S. Heper, ed.: Mevlevî âyînleri [Âyîn compositions of the Mevlevî] (Konya, 1974)

h: music of the shī'a

W. Ivanow: ‘Some Persian Darwish Songs’, Journal and Proceedings of the Asiatic Society of Bengal, new ser., xxiii (1927), 237–42

H. Massé: Croyances et coutumes persanes suivies de contes et chansons populaires, i (Paris, 1938)

J. Chelhod: ‘Pèlerinage à Kadzimain, lieu saint de l'Islam’, Objets et mondes, iii (1963), 253

M. Schneider: ‘Religiöser Sport im Islam’, Rhythmus, xxxvi (1963), 4

A. Piemontese: ‘L'organizzazione della “Zurxâne” e la “Futuwwa”’, Annali: Istituto universitario orientale di Napoli, new ser., xiv (1964), 453

N. Caron: ‘La musique shiite en Iran’, Encyclopédie des musiques sacrées, ed. J. Porte, i (Paris, 1968), 430–40

M.T. Massoudieh: ‘Die Melodie Masnawī in der persischen Kunstmusik’, Orbis musicae, i (1971–2), 57–66

E. Neubauer: ‘Muharram-Bräuche im heutigen Persien’, Der Islam, xlix (1972), 249

M.T. Massoudieh: ‘Tradition und Wandel in der persischen Musik des 19. Jahrhunderts’, Musikkulturen Asiens, Afrikas und Ozeaniens im 19. Jahrhundert, ed. R. Günther (Regensburg, 1973), 73–94, esp. 76ff

J. Kuckertz and M.T. Massoudieh: Musik in Būsehr (Süd-Iran), ii (Munich and Salzburg, 1976)

P. Chelkowski, ed.: Ta'ziyeh: Ritual and Drama in Iran (New York, 1979)

M. Riggio, ed.: Ta'ziyeh: Ritual and Popular Beliefs in Iran (Hartford, CT, 1988)

G. van den Berg: Minstrel Poetry from the Pamir Mountains: a Study of the Isma‘ilis of Tajik Badakhshan (diss., U. of Leiden, 1997)

i: heterodox sects

T. Menzel: ‘Das Bektāsi-Kloster Sejjid-i-Ghâzi’, Mitteilungen des Seminars für orientalische Sprachen, xxviii/2 (1925), 92–125

A. Rifat and others, eds.: Bektaşî nefesleri [Nefes songs of the Bektāşi] (Istanbul, 1933)

E. Borrel: ‘Sur la musique secrète des tribus turques Alévi’, Revue des études islamiques, viii (1934), 241

J.K. Birge: The Bektashi Order of Dervishes (London and Hartford, CT, 1937/R)

S.N. Ergun: Bektaşî şairleri ve nefesleri [Poets of the Bektaşî and their nefes poems], i–ii (Istanbul, 1944, 2/1955) [up to the 19th century]

S.N. Ergun: Bektaşî-Kizulbas – Alevî şairleri ve nefesleri [Poets of the Bektaşî, Kizilbas and Alevî and their nefes poems], iii (Istanbul, 1944, 2/1956) [from the 19th century]

S.N. Ergun, ed.: Hatâyî divanı: şah ismail safevî, edebî hyati ve nefesleri [Collection of nefes poems of Hatâyî] (Istanbul, 1946, 2/1956)

E. Borrel: ‘Les poètes Kızıl Bach et leur musique’, Revue des études islamiques, xv (1947), 157–90

A. Gölpınarlı, ed.: Alevî-Bektaşî nefesleri [Nefes songs of the Alevi and Bektaşî] (Istanbul, 1963)

T. Bois: ‘Une secte ésotérique kurde: les Ahl-e Haqq’, Bibliotheca orientalis, xxiii (1966), 250

B. Mauguin: ‘Musique de mosquée et musique de confrérie en Turquie’, Encyclopédie des musiques sacrées, ed. J. Porte, i (Paris, 1968), 422–40, esp. 426

M. Mokri: ‘La musique sacrée des Kurdes “fidèles de vérité” en Iran’, ibid., 441–53

C.J. Edmonds: ‘The Beliefs and Practices of the Ahl-i Haqq in Iraq’, Iran, vii (1969), 89

I. Markoff: ‘The Role of Expressive Culture in the Demystification of a Sect of Islam: the Case of the Alevis of Turkey’, World of Music, xxviii/3 (1986), 42–54

2. Development of the term.

j: recordings

Dikr und Madih: Islamische Gesänge und Zeremonien, rec. 1974, Telefunken 66.28 192-01, 66.28 192-02 (1980) [incl. disc notes]

Syria, Zikr, Islamic Ritual Rifa'iyya Brotherhood of Aleppo, UNESCO/Audivis D 8013 (1989) [incl. disc notes]

Turquie: ceremonie des derviches Kadiri, VDE-GALLO CD 587 (1989) [incl. disc notes]

Baloutchistan: musique d'extase et de guerison, Ocora C580017, C580018 (1992) [incl. disc notes]

Kurdistan: Zikr et chants soufis, Ocora C560071, C560072 (1994) [incl. disc notes]

Isle of Man.

Island located in the Irish Sea, off the north-west coast of England.

1. Cultural and musical origins.

Manx music has been shaped by the Isle of Man's unique political status and its position at the cultural crossroads of the British Isles. Manx Celts had been Christian for nearly 400 years before the arrival in about 800 ce of pagan Scandinavian settlers, who were converted to Christianity and founded the Tynwald (parliament). From the early 15th century onwards English rule was to have a profound effect on cultural life. Manx Gaelic, a dialect of Irish and Scots Gaelic, was still the majority language in the early 1800s; the influx of English-speaking holidaymakers hastened its decline, although it was still spoken in the 20th century. Trading and commercial links with Britain and Ireland as well as further afield helped shape a distinctive musical life.

Little music has survived from before the 18th century, although documentary evidence indicates that there was an active musical life at all levels of Manx society. The English Lords of Man (the earls of Derby and their successors the dukes of Atholl, 1405–1765) employed musicians to sing services and provide domestic entertainment in their castles at Peel and Castletown, and there was music at the cathedral of Peel and the Cistercian abbey of Rushen as at comparable northern British foundations.

2. Church music after 1800.

By the 1800s three distinct styles of church music co-existed. Traditional Gaelic psalm-singing survived in remoter country areas as a reminder of the Byzantine origins of the Celtic church. In most parish churches, clerks raised the hymns, ‘lining out’ the metrical psalms, in the style widely practised throughout most of the British Isles and, on special occasions, West-Gallery musicians led hymn singing, amazing the congregations (but often dismaying the clergy) by providing splendid anthems with instrumental accompaniment in the style of Purcell or Handel. This music was sometimes locally composed, but more often painstakingly copied from published collections into manuscript books, over 20 of which survive to offer an insight into the social lives of West-Gallery musicians, mostly artisans who learnt their musical skills through playing in bands. The third style was provided by the introduction of surpliced choirs accompanied by organ music, a novelty which attracted churchgoers but was often detrimental to the standard of congregational singing, although generating printed collections of hymns specially designed for use in Manx churches. The first collection of hymns in Manx (1799) was printed in Douglas and reprinted in 1830 and 1846. A Selection of Psalms and Hymns Chiefly Designed for the Use of Congregations in the Isle of Man (1835) contained 58 tunes, none of Manx origin. In 1840, 108 tunes (only ten of which duplicated the 1835 collection) appeared in Isaac Dale's Mona Melodist, including the traditional Manx melody ‘Molly Charane’, and featuring island composers such as the Rev. R. Brown, I. Cretney and G.H. Wood.

The language of the old-style Gaelic psalms was predominantly Manx: metrical psalms had been translated from English in 1760, and parish clerks were more likely to use Manx until well into the 19th century, especially in country areas. West-Gallery music was probably bilingual; anthems were generally copied from English-language collections but hymns were likely to have been sung in Manx and were often composed locally. After the Anglicans had adopted the recommendations of the Tractarians, the music-loving Methodists clung to West-Gallery music, and remnants of the tradition survived until the 1950s in tiny country chapels. Other nonconformists continued to use instrumental music in worship, provided by ‘Hallelujah’, Teetotal and Salvation Army bands. In urban areas the use of organs and surpliced choirs became widespread, partly to attract holidaymakers, who filled the new churches and chapels in the seaside towns. Open-air services attracted huge numbers to Braddan; chapel and Sunday school anniversaries were splendid occasions; Moody and Sankey evenings were popular in country districts; and the increasingly English-speaking congregations adopted the new hymnbooks. Some traditional Manx tunes were used in the Methodist Hymn Book, notably W.H. Gill's Manx Fishermen's Evening Hymn to the tune ‘Peel Castle’. The decline of church music in the late 20th century led to few parish churches having regular choirs and many finding it difficult to appoint organists.

3. Social music after 1800.

Secular music was greatly affected by trading and immigration patterns during the 18th and early 19th centuries, and the influx of half-pay officers and debtors fleeing English prisons inevitably resulted in the importing of new styles and repertory. Professional and amateur musicians often seem to have worked together in bands, orchestras and choirs in concerts and festivals. Private teachers offered tuition in piano, singing, harp, guitar and cornet, as well as, anachronistically, figured bass. Many singers and instrumentalists learnt their skills by joining one of the many bands and choirs which flourished in villages and towns. These were often church-based or linked with the many friendly and benevolent societies, which had an important charitable function before the introduction of the welfare state. After playing anthems and psalms on Sundays, musicians provided quadrilles, quicksteps and polkas during the week at functions ranging from barn dances to formal balls at the Assembly Rooms in Douglas. Concerts of sacred and secular music were popular, and often featured singers from Ireland and the north of England, while string bands and formal orchestras began to be active in about the 1870s. A huge amount of sheet music was published, featuring songs, ballads and dance music, much of it aimed at the growing tourist industry. Visitors from northern England and Scotland were richly entertained with indoor concerts, outdoor band music and music hall. Some of the songs lived on, including Ellan Vannin, which many thought was the national anthem.

The tourist industry had a far-reaching effect on popular music in the 20th century, with dance bands led by Joe Loss, Ivy Benson and Ronnie Aldrich and others entertaining holidaymakers and residents alike. The growth of radio and recorded music hastened the decline of vernacular music, which began to be seen as old-fashioned. The 1960s and 70s saw a proliferation of subscription concerts, festivals such as the Mananan Festival, and international competitions for viola, harp and double bass. Amateur music-making is spurred on by the Manx Music Festival (‘the Guild’), which celebrated its centenary in 1992 and is the highlight of the year, particularly for singers. There are several active choirs and the instrumental tradition has strengthened since the 1970s. Youth groups flourish outside the educational system, and the high standards of the Manx Youth Band have developed alongside the revival of town bands and a popular brass band festival.

4. Traditional music.

Increasing international awareness of nationhood was reflected in an interest in ethnic music, which began with Mona Melodies (1820), the first publication of Manx tunes arranged for voice and piano, and peaked in 1896 with W.H. Gill's Manx National Song Book and A.W. Moore's Manx Ballads and Music. The remarkable work of the late 19th-century collectors, such as Gill, Moore and John Clague, rescued over 300 popular songs, ballads, instumental melodies, sacred pieces and dance tunes, which had been transmitted orally and became the basis of the folk revival. Music and dance had survived in the 17th and 18th centuries despite opposition from the established church, which often ‘presented’ musicians to the ecclesiastical courts for breaking the Sabbath.

An early form of non-liturgical sacred music was the carval, a form closely related to medieval and pre-Reformation carols. In the 17th and 18th centuries carvals were the province of educated composers and authors, but by the 19th they could be heard at Oiell Verrees, a form of entertainment which took place after the minister had left the church on Christmas Eve. They were sung to popular Manx tunes by male soloists, who composed their own verses based on biblical texts, including the Nativity; the most popular story was that of the prodigal son. The performance began at the west end of the church, the singer taking a step forwards at the beginning of each verse. The tradition became increasingly associated with rural areas; although the character of the melodies varied, most were exclusively Manx in origin and show little trace of the wider influences that appear in other parts of the repertory.

Musical styles reflecting the island's history – including Celtic laments and lullabies, tunes with Scandinavian features, early English dances and carols, pagan and Christian ritual music (notably the mummers' play The White Boys) and 18th-century ballads – were adapted by Manx musicians, often with some sophistication. Fiddle music dominated the instrumental tradition and old Christmas and wedding customs (many similar to those in Scotland and Scandinavia) were still being observed in Douglas in the mid-19th century, lingering longer in the countryside. By the time the 19th-century collectors were at work, performance styles were only hinted at, and the songtexts were often incomplete or heavily censored. Popular tunes were constantly adapted for contemporary use; new words to commemorate tragic events such as the wreck of the herring fleet in 1787 were fitted to earlier laments and Gill's arrangement of the major version of ‘Mylecharaine’ was to become the Manx national anthem.

Developments in popular music led to changes in the oral tradition. Most musicians in the first 70 years of the 20th century learnt their Manx tunes from The Manx National Song Book, but as Sophia Morrison, Mona Douglas and later collectors were to discover, not all traditional music had died. Local chruinnaghts and eisteddfods continued to be held, even after the demise in the 1930s of the Chruinnaght Ashoonagh Vannin (Manx National Gathering). Choral and orchestral arrangements by Elgar, Vaughan Williams, Arnold Foster and Haydn Wood, as well as Manx composers such as J.E. Quayle, gave opportunities to amateurs to perform traditional music in contemporary styles. Using 19th-century notebooks, traditional dance was recreated by Mona Douglas and Leighton Stowell in the 1930s, and continues strong, with new compositions actively encouraged and performed. Oiell Verrees and hymn-raising also continue to be popular, particularly in country areas. Led by Mona Douglas, the successful revival of Yn Chruinnaght in 1976 gave a new impetus to Manx music, and the festival's links with other major Celtic festivals in Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Cornwall and Brittany fuelled the growth of traditional music and dance. The movement was further stimulated by Colin Jerry's publications of tunes from the notebooks of the early collectors, previously difficult of access, and the appearance of the second volume of the Manx National Song Book (1979), edited by Charles Guard. Tapes and CDs chart stylistic changes from the 1960s through the performances and compositions of groups and individuals including Phynodderee, the Mannin Folk, Charles Guard, Stuart Slack, Bernard Osborne and Peter Lumb, the Mollag Band, MacTullough Vannin, Caarjyn Cooidjagh, Emma Christian and Paitchyn Vannin.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

J.C. Fargher and A.W. Moore: Carvalyn Gailckagh (Isle of Man, 1891)

W.H. Gill: Manx National Song Book (London, 1896)

A.W. Moore, ed.: Manx Ballads and Music (London, 1896)

A.G. Gilchrist: ‘Manx Folk Songs’, Journal of the Folk Song Society, xxviii (1924), 99–193; xxix (1925), 203–76; xxx (1926), 281–327

C.I. Paton: ‘Manx Carvals and Carval Books with Notes on some of the Manuscripts’, Isle of Man Natural History and Antiquarian Society Proceedings, ii/4 (1926), 480–501

P.W. Caine: ‘Manx Carols and their Writers’, Isle of Man Natural History and Antiquarian Society Proceedings, ii/4 (1926), 393–402

M. Douglas and A. Foster: Twelve Manx Folk Songs [3 sets] (London, 1928–57)

A.P. Graves, ed.: ‘Manx Folk Songs’, Celtic Song Book (London, 1928), 151–80

J.E. Quayle: ‘Manx music’, Isle of Man Natural History and Antiquarian Society Proceedings, iv/2 (1938)

M. Douglas: ‘Folk Song and Dance in Mann with some Notes on Collection and Revival of the Dances’, Proceedings of the Scottish Anthropological and Folklore Society, iv/1 (1949), 51–60

P. Kennedy: ‘Songs in Manx Gaelic’, Folksongs of Britain and Ireland (London, 1975), 179–202

I.M. Killip: ‘The White Boys and the Mollag Band’, Journal of the Manx Museum, vii/88 (1976), 201–5

C. Guard: The Manx National Song Book, ii (Isle of Man, 1979)

C. Jerry: Kiaull Vannin (Isle of Man, 1987)

M. Faragher: With Heart, Soul and Voice: 100 Years of the Manx Music Festival (Hawes, 1992)

F.E. Bazin: ‘Music and Society in the Isle of Man 1800–60’, Isle of Man Natural History and Antiquarian Society Proceedings, x/3 (1996), 179–99

F.E. Bazin: ‘From the Midnight Hills’: a Performing Edition of 32 West Gallery Anthems from Edward Quayle's Music Book (Isle of Man, 1999)

FENELLA BAZIN

Isler, Ernst

(b Zürich, 30 Sept 1879; d Zürich, 26 Sept 1944). Swiss organist and music critic. After studying at the Zürich Music School (1895–9) and with Rudorff at the Berlin Hochschule für Musik (1899–1901), he became organist at the Reformed church in Zürich-Enge and, from 1919 to 1942, at the Fraumünster in Zürich. At the same time he taught at the Zürich Conservatory, from 1919 as head of the organ department, and taught music history at the Volkshochschule. From 1910 to 1927 he was the editor of the Schweizerische Musikzeitung and from 1902 to 1944 music critic of the Neue Zürcher Zeitung.

In his many decades as music critic Isler established the paper’s particular approach to music reviewing: considering the composition as paramount, he based his assessment of its interpretation on detailed analysis of the score. This type of criticism had a wide influence on German-speaking parts of Switzerland and was continued by Isler’s successors, Willi Schuh and Andres Briner. Isler’s championship of Swiss composers like Schoeck and Burkhard, as well as Max Reger and his organ music, was equally important. As an organ teacher he had a far-reaching importance in Protestant Switzerland.

WRITINGS

Carl Attenhofer, Neujahrsblatt der Allgemeinen Musikgesellschaft in Zürich, ciii (Zürich, 1915)

Max Reger (Zürich, 1917)

Hans Huber (Zürich, 1923)

Das zürcherische Konzertleben seit der Eröffnung der neuen Tonhalle 1895 (Zürich, 1935–6)

‘Die evangelische Kirche der deutschen Schweiz und die Musik’, Schweizer Musikbuch, ed. W. Schuh, i (Zürich, 1939), 324

‘Vergleichende Charakteristik von c- und d-moll-Werken Bachs und Beethovens’, SMz, lxxxiii (1943), 1–8, 40–44

‘G.F. Händels Orgelkonzerte’, SMz, lxxxiv (1944), 309–18, 351–6

BIBLIOGRAPHY

H. Funk: ‘Ernst Isler, der Organist und Orgellehrer’, SMz, lxxxiv (1944), 422–4

H. Grossmann and others: Ernst Isler: 30. Sept. 1879 – 26 Sept. 1944: zum Gedächtnis (Zürich, 1944)

W. Schuh: ‘Ernst Isler zum Gedächtnis’, SMz, lxxxiv (1944), 389–92

JÜRG STENZL

Isley Brothers.

Black American soul and funk group. The original members, lead singer Ronald Isley (b 21 May 1941), O'Kelly Isley (b 25 Dec 1937; d 31 March 1986) and Rudolph Isley (b 1 April 1939), began singing gospel in their native Cincinnati. In 1958 they moved to New York and recorded a series of singles for the Teenager, Mark X, Cindy and Gone labels before signing to RCA. They achieved success in 1959 and again in 1962 with their composition Shout. Their next hit was a cover of the Top Notes' Twist and Shout (Wand, 1962) using an arrangement which was subsequently copied by the Beatles for their version of the song. After a short-lived attempt at starting their own label, T-Neck records, in the mid-1960s the Isley Brothers recorded for Motown. Here the production team of Holland, Dozier and Holland wrote four hits for the group, including This old heart of mine (is weak for you) (1966).

In 1969 the Isley Brothers reactivated their T-Neck label and added two younger brothers, Ernie on guitar and Marvin on bass, plus cousin Chris Jasper on keyboards. At this point, the group followed the recent development of funk by James Brown and Sly and the Family Stone and, with Ernie Isley's Hendrix-influenced guitar, recorded a series of hit singles that dominated the rhythm and blues charts until 1983, while hardly reaching a white audience. These included original songs such as It's your thing, That Lady, Fight the power and The Pride juxtaposed with covers of pop material such as Steve Stills's Love the One You're With and Seals and Crofts's Summer Breeze.

In 1984 Ernie and Marvin Isley and Jasper left the original trio to form Isley-Jasper-Isley and had a big hit in 1985 with Caravan of Love. Ronald and Rudolph continued as the Isley Brothers after O'Kelly's death in 1986, finally disbanding in 1990. A year later Ernie, Marvin and Ronald Isley reformed the group.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

R. Palmer: ‘Black, Proud and not Ashamed to be Loud: the Isley Brothers keep on Fighting the Power’, Rolling Stone (28 Aug 1975)

A. Peck: ‘The Isley Brothers are Ready for their Next Phase’, Rolling Stone (10 Aug 1978)

A. White: The Isley Brothers Story Volume 1: Rockin' Soul (1959–68), Rhino R2 70908 (1991) [disc notes]

D. Nathan: The Isley Brothers Story Volume 2: the T-Neck Years (1969–85), Rhino R2 70909 (1991) [disc notes]

ROB BOWMAN

ISM.

See Incorporated Society of Musicians.

Ismagilov, Zagir Garipovich

(b Verneye Sermenevo, Bashkiri Autonomous Republic, Russia, 26 Dec 1916/8 Jan 1917). Bashkiri composer. From childhood he was a superb exponent of folk songs and a celebrated kuray player. After completing his studies at the Forestry Technology School (1934 in Inzer, Bashkortostan) he decided to devote his life to the theatre and music. He completed his studies at the studio attached to the Bashkir Academic Theatre of Drama (1935, Ufa), and for two years he worked as a company member and kuray player in this theatre (1935–7). For the next seven years he worked in the Moscow Conservatory (in the studio, the Bashkir department and the department of theory and composition), where he also studied with Viktor Bely, Anatoly Aleksandrov and Vladimir Fere. For the next 24 years (1954–78) he headed the Bashkir Union of Composers; in 1968 he became rector of the new Institute of Arts in Ufa, which he directed until 1988. Through his teaching he is said to have inspired a new generation of composers. He is the holder of the following orders: the Badge of Honour (1949), the Workers’ Red Banner (1967), the Order of Lenin (1971), the Friendship of Nations (1977), the October Revolution (1988); he is a laureate of the Glinka Prize, the Salavat Yulayev Prize, and he is a People’s Artist of the USSR, the RSFSR and of the Bakshir ASSR.

Although Ismagilov works in the most varied of genres, opera occupies the central place in his output. The heroic and dramatic opera Salavat Yulayev – his graduation piece – became the first classic of Bashkir opera. Then followed the tragic opera Shaura based on themes from a folk legend, the lyrical opera Volnï Agideli (‘The Waves of the Agidel’) concerning contemporary life, and two operas devoted to heroic and patriotic themes. These latter works, Poslï Urala (‘Ambassadors from the Urals’) and Akmulla, continued the style he established in Salavat Yulayev. He also composed the first Bashkiri comic opera Kodasa (‘The Sister-in-Law’).

Of his works for chorus and orchestra of particular note are the symphonic poem Bessmertiye (‘Immortality’) and the oratorio Mï pobediteli (‘We are the Victors’) which commemorate respectively the 30th and 40th anniversaries of the defeat of fascism. Among his numerous choral works (which include folk song arrangements) the cycle Slovo materi (‘The Word of a Mother’) is of great significance.

WORKS

stage

Salavat Yulayev (op, 4, B. Bikbay, after M. Karim), 1954, rev. 1986, Bashkir State Theatre of Opera and Ballet, 15 April 1955

Kodasa [The Sister-in-Law] (musical comedy, 4, Bikbay), 1958, rev. 1970, Bashkir State Theatre of Opera and Ballet, 9 Oct 1959

Shaura (op, 3, Bikbay), 1963, Bashkir State Theatre of Opera and Ballet, 21 Dec 1963

Gul'zifa (op, 4, after Karim), 1966, Bashkir State Theatre of Opera and Ballet, 29 Oct 1967

Volnï Agideli [The Waves of the Agidel] (op, 3, after Karim), Bashkir State Theatre of Opera and Ballet, 24 Feb 1972

Poslï Urala [Ambassadors from the Urals] (op, 3, I. Dil'mukhametov), 1981, Bashkir State Theatre of Opera and Ballet, 30 March 1982

Akmulla (op, 3, Dil'mukhametov), 1985, Bashkir State Theatre of Opera and Ballet, 5 Oct 1995

Incid music (for productions at the M. Gafuri Academic Theatre of Drama of Bashkortostan): Bashkirskaya svad'ba [A Bashkiri Wedding] (M. Burangulov), 1940; Vesennyaya pesnya [Song of Spring] (Nadzhmi), 1950; Zimagorï [Winter Mountains] (S. Miftakhov), 1956; Kakhïm-Turė (Bikbay), 1957; Salavat (Karim), 1972; Bakhtigarey (A. Mirzagitov), 1978

vocal

Choral: Kantata o Lenine [Cant. about Lenin] (R. Nigmati) 1v, chorus, orch, 1949, rev. 1987; Slovo materi [The Word of a Mother] (cycle, R. Nazarov), 1972, rev. 1987; Ya rossiyanin [I am a Russian] (cant., M. Karim), chorus, orch, 1972, rev. 1987; Bessmertiye [Immortality] (vocal-sym. poem, Karim), S, chorus, orch, 1975, rev. 1987; Mï pobediteli [We are the Victors] (orat, A. Igebayev), solo vv, chorus, orch, 1985, rev. 1987

Over 300 songs (1v, pf) incl.: Kotelok [The Kettle] (N. Nadzhmi), 1945; Shaymuratov-general (K. Dayan), 1945, rev. 1966; Tï ne vernulsya [You did not Return] (S. Kudash), 1945; Leti, moy gnedoy [Fly, my Bay Horse] (N. Idel'bay), 1955; Slava tebe, Bashkortostan [Glory to You, Bashkortostan] (Nigmati), 1955; Ne zabït' dolin gor ural'skikh [Do not Forget the Valleys and Mountains of the Urals] (G. Zaynasheva), 1956; Zhavoronok [The Lark] (Kh. Tufan), 1960; Bïl bïlïm [It was the Past] (Ya. Kulmïy), 1964; O, moy Ural [O, my Urals] (S. Yulayev), 1965; Rodnaya zemlya [My Native Land] (Karim), song cycle, 1976, rev.1999; song cycle to verse by Salavat Yulayev, 1977; Mednïy kolokol'chik [The Bronze Bell], Materi moyey [To my Mother], Vsem nuzhen mir [Everyone Needs Peace] (A. Igebayev), 1986

instrumental

Orch: Bashkirskiy marsh [Bashkiri March], 1950; Molodyozhnïy marsh [March of Youth], 1950; Uvertyura na 2 bashkirskiye narodnïye pesni [Ov. on 2 Bashkiri Folk Songs], 1950; Suite, 1952; Prazdnichnaya uvertyura [Festival Ov.], 1979; Pf conc., 1986

Chbr and solo inst: Scherzo, fl, pf, 1945; 3 p'yesï [3 Pieces]: Lunnaya noch' [A Moonlit Night], Nocturne, Scherzo, pf, 1947; Poėma i tanets [Poem and Dance], cl, pf, 1948; Variations, fl, pf, 1958; Romans, vn, pf, 1960; Pf Cycle: Legenda, Torzhestvennaya [Solemn], Poėma, Tanets [Dance], 1966; Prelude and Toccata, pf, 1970

BIBLIOGRAPHY

L. Lebedinsky: ‘Z. Ismagilov’, Kompozitorï Bashkiri[The composers of Bashkiriya] (Moscow, 1955)

N. Shumskaya: ‘Zagir Ismagilov’, Sovetskaya muzïka: stat'i i materialï, [Soviet music: articles and materials], i (Moscow, 1956)

Sh. Mesyagutov: Zagir Ismagilov: ot kuraya do operï [Zagir Ismagilov: from the Kuray to opera] (Ufa, 1967)

Ye. Davïdova: ‘Narodno-pesennïye istoki vokal'noy liriki Z. Ismagilova’ [The folk and song sources of Ismagilov’s vocal lyrics], Voprosï bashkirskoy fol'kloristiki, ed. L.G. Barag and N.T. Zaripov, (Ufa, 1978), 101–15

T. Rusanova: ‘Fortepiannïye proizvedeniya Zagira Ismagilova’ [The piano works of Ismagilov], Voprosï istorii bashkirskoy muzïkal'noy kul'turï ed. V. Basenov and T. Ugryumova (Ufa, 1990), 72–80

YEVGENIYA ROMANOVNA SKOURKO

Ismaïl, Aly

(b Cairo, 28 Dec 1924; d Cairo, 16 June 1974). Egyptian composer. He studied the clarinet, saxophone and bassoon at the Institute for Theatre Music in Cairo, graduating in 1949. After a period as an orchestral musician he began to compose songs for the radio, but from 1959 he became closely associated with the Reda Troupe, a folkdance ensemble, eventually serving as its conductor–composer. With them he initiated the movement for folklorism in dance and song, presenting Egyptian material in stylized form. He composed the music for all 26 of their shows, using an orchestra including Arab instruments, and with them he toured through most of the Arab countries, Asia, Europe, the USSR, the USA and Latin America. In addition, he did much arranging for most of the song composers in Egypt, but his most important contribution was in his work for the cinema, in which he showed imagination, humour and skill in the use of local features. His film music won him four first prizes from the Egyptian Ministry of Culture; he also received awards in international festivals of popular song, and in 1973 he was given the Gamal Abdel Nasser Prize. In style, his music is essentially a mixture of folk and classical Arab elements (in melody, rhythm and instrumentation) with Western elements (in instrumentation, harmony and syntax). The result is a light and sometimes jazzy style with a strong oriental flavour; his orchestration tends towards a rather heavy use of the brass. He used folktunes from various parts of the country, treating them with some melodic liberty, though his rhythm shows interesting features (irregular phrases, irregular groups of five and seven) derived from the patterns of classical Arab music. Many of the lyrics for his songs were written by his wife, including those for some popular patriotic pieces. He composed patriotic songs for Hāfez and other singers. In 1975 he was awarded a posthumous state prize.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Z. Nassār: Al-mūsīqā al-Misriyya al-mutatawwira [Egyptian art music] (Cairo, 1990), 100–105

A.T. Zakī: A‘lām al-mūsīqā al-Misriyya‘abr 150 sana [Great figures of Egyptian music through 150 years] (Cairo, 1990), 117–21

SAMHA EL KHOLY

Ismailov, Abduhashim

(b Fergana Basin, 9 June 1952). Uzbek ghidjak player and composer. He came from a family of musicians and played the ghidjak and the rubāb from an early age. He also performed Uzbek traditional music on the violin; in the Fergana area, the ghidjak was sometimes replaced in ensembles by the violin. In 1967 he began to study at the Fergana College of Music, and in 1971 he became a student at the Tashkent State Conservatory. From 1975 to 1996 he performed in the Uzbek State Radio makom ensemble founded by Yunus Rajabi. In 1978 he took part in an international symposium for traditional music held in Samarkand, and two years later he was awarded the title of Honoured Artist of Uzbekistan. The Tashkent division of Melodiya released six recordings of his performances, and in 1987 he received the company’s Golden Gramophone award. In 1990 he was named Artist of the People of Uzbekistan. His repertory includes pieces from the Tashkent-Fergana makom, the Khorezm makom and the Bukhara shashmakom as well as Indian rāgas and western art music.

His importance lies in his contribution to the ghidjak repertory in Uzbekistan. Ismailov introduced rapid and technically demanding solo passages for the ghidjak into well-known Uzbek traditional classical songs. He also developed a new combination of instruments; in 1984 he founded an ensemble including the ghidjak, the nay (played by Abdulahat Abdurashidov) and the kanun (Abdurahman Holtojiev). The ensemble subsequently toured extensively and was noted for its rapid and complex development of musical material within the Uzbek traditional classical style; it performed traditional melodies as well as pieces created specifically for the combination of ghidjak, nay and kanun, including about 20 of Ismailov’s compositions.

RECORDINGS

Music of the Past Uzbek Empires, UNESCO (forthcoming)

RAZIA SULTANOVA

ISME.

See International Society for Music Education.

Isnard.

French family of organ builders. Jean-Esprit (bap. Bédarrides, Vaucluse, 22 Jan 1707; bur. Tarascon, 16 March 1781), a priest at the Dominican convent in Tarascon, except for a period spent with the Jacobin order in Toulouse, was one of the geniuses of French organ building. Among his instruments are those for: Ste Marie-Madeleine, Aix-en-Provence (1743); St Cannat, Marseilles (1747); St Trophime, Arles (1767); and the basilica at Saint Maximin-la-Sainte-Baume (1772–4). This last is Isnard's masterpiece and survives in its entirety. The 16' Grand orgue contains a Gross nazard 51/3', a Grosse tierce 31/5', three chorus mixtures and a second treble Trompette en chamade; the Positif contains three 8' flue stops, both the full separate mutations including a Quart de nasard and a Larigot and also a five-rank Cornet, and three reeds; a three-stop Récit of 32 notes constitutes the fourth manual while the third manual, called La résonance, consists of a 27-note Echo of Flûte à cheminée 8', Cornet V, another Trompette en chamade, and a full-compass manual Bombarde consisting of Flûtes 16', 8' and 4' and reeds 16', 8', 8' and 4', which serves both as a pedal division and as an extra manual with grand jeu effects. The organ is still tuned in an unequal temperament, and its pitch is still about two semitones below present pitch. It remains one of the most remarkable, beautiful-toned organs ever built in France.

Jean-Baptiste Isnard (b Bédarrides, 24 June 1726; d Orléans, 18 Aug 1800), nephew and pupil of Jean-Esprit, worked in Le Puy (1750), Lyons (1756) and Orléans (1756). He also worked in Blois, where he married Gabrielle Mollet. They had a daughter and a son. He built the organ at Pithiviers parish church (1784–9); the church was converted to a hospital after the Revolution, but the organ survives. Joseph (b Bédarrides, 5 April 1740; d Bordeaux, 9 April 1828), Jean-Baptiste's brother, was also a pupil of Jean-Esprit and assisted his uncle with the building of the organ for Saint Maximin-la-Sainte-Baume. He worked with F.-H. Clicquot (1767), then for Adrien L'Epine (1768, Nogent-sur-Seine). He built the organs at the convent of the Minims, Marseilles (1777), and Notre Dame, Lambesc (1788). He took refuge in Spain during the Revolution, then returned to Bordeaux where he restored the organs at Ste Croix and the cathedral.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

F. Raugel: Recherches sur quelques maîtres de l'ancienne facture d'orgues française (Paris, 1924)

F. Raugel: ‘Les Isnard’, Cahiers de l'art sacré, no.6 (Paris, 1946), 29–32

P. Williams: The European Organ 1450–1850 (London, 1966/R)

F. Douglass: The Language of the Classical French Organ (New Haven, CT, 1969)

GUY OLDHAM/PIERRE HARDOUIN

Isnardi, Paolo

(b Ferrara, 1536; d Ferrara, 7 May 1596). Italian composer. He was a pupil of the Ferrarese composer Francesco Manara. The title-pages of his works show that he was maestro di cappella at Ferrara Cathedral from 1573. Although they also claim that he was a ‘ducal musician’, he never appears in the salary rolls of the Ferrarese court; it seems that he was a ducal musician only in the sense that he oversaw the music at the duke’s principal church. He is not to be confused with Paolo Ferrarese, a musician and Cassinensian monk active in Ferrara during the first and second thirds of the 16th century. Superbi maintained that Isnardi had many students, including several sons, who became honoured musicians: Paolo Isnardi, maestro di cappella at the Accademia della morte, Ferrara, from 1604 to 1609 was probably one of these sons; Vincenzo Isnardi, who wrote a madrigal printed in Il giardino dei musici ferraresi (RISM 1591⁹), is probably another. Isnardi was married to Lucrezia Pocaterra, the sister of the Ferrarese poet Annibale Pocaterra. A perusal of several of his madrigals from the 1580s indicates that Isnardi was a skilful, serious, conservative and rather unimaginative madrigal composer.

WORKS

all published in Venice

sacred

Missae, 5vv (1568); ed. in Ansbacher, ii

Psalmi omnes qui ad Vesperas decantantur et compositiones falsi bordoni, 5vv (1569)

Psalmi omnes ad Vesperas una cum 3 Magnificat, 4vv (1571)

Lamentationes, 5vv (1572)

Missae, 4vv (1573); 1 ed. in Ansbacher, ii

Missarum liber secundus, 5vv (1581); 1 ed. in Ansbacher, ii

Magnificat omnitoni, 4–6vv (1582)

Lamentationes et benedictus, 4vv (1584)

Missarum liber primus, 6vv (1590); 1 ed. in Ansbacher, ii

Missa cum motetto pro concertis disjunctis, 8vv (1594)

Laudate pueri, 5vv, 1590⁷

Further sacred works, D-As, I-FZac

secular

Il primo libro de madrigali, 5vv (1568)

Il secondo libro de madrigali, 5vv (1577); 1 previously pubd, 1570¹⁵

Il terzo libro de madrigali, 5vv (1581)

Il primo libro de madrigali, 6vv (1589)

8 madrigals, 5, 6, 8 vv: 1582⁵, 1583¹⁰, 1584⁴, 1586⁷, 1586¹⁰, 1590¹⁵, 1591⁹, 1592¹⁴; 4 madrigals, 5vv, I-MOe

BIBLIOGRAPHY

NewcombMF

A. Superbi: Apparato de gli huomini illustri della città di Ferrara (Ferrara, 1620)

M.A. Guarini: Compendio historico delle chiese … di Ferrara (Ferrara, 1621)

B.K. Ansbacher: The Masses of Paolo Isnardi (diss., U. of Cincinnati, 1972)

ANTHONY NEWCOMB

Iso [Yzo, Yso], Pierre

(fl c1715–c1794). French composer and teacher. In the sources his surname appears as ‘Yzo’ until 1759, after which it becomes ‘Iso’. He was not related to the composer and bassoonist Etienne Ozi, or the bassoonist François Ozi, as has been suggested. He went to Moulins from Nevers and became, in 1736, maître de musique at the Académie de Musique and a director of a music school there: he was required to conduct rehearsals and concerts and teach singing and the violin. He left in 1742 and was probably in Paris by 1748. Between 1753 and 1754 he played a part in the Querelle des Bouffons by publishing under the name of Yzo an answer to Rousseau's Lettre sur la musique française (Paris, 1753) entitled Lettre sur celle de Monsieur Jean-Jacques Rousseau … sur la musique. His op.1, a motet for full chorus and orchestra to words from Psalm xcvii, was published probably shortly before two one-act ballets héroïques of his appeared at the Paris Opéra: Phaëteuse and Zémide, which together with Apollon berger d'Admète (music by Grenet) formed part of the Fragments héroïques produced on 20 July 1759. Zémide was also performed in Lyons in 1764 at the academy there. Both were printed in full score and reveal a rather simplistic and perfunctory approach to the genre.

A court document, Mémoire pour le sieur Iso, maître de musique … contre le sieur Lagarde, aussi maître de musique, défendeur (1759, US-Wc), reveals that Iso attempted to collect payment for composing and revising several works for his fellow composer, Pierre de La Garde. He claimed that La Garde had a reputation for making false promises of shared payment and commissions in exchange for work. The document cites five works which he worked on for La Garde. Iso's witnesses included La Garde's copyist and librettist, as well as other musicians who allegedly observed Iso working on these compositions in La Garde's house. However, Charles-François Clément and Joseph de Laporte reported that the judgment went against Iso at both the Châtelet and the Parlement.

WORKS

stage

La convalescence de Mgr le Dauphin (cantatille), 30 Aug 1752 (Paris, 1752)

L'Amour malheureux (cantatille) (Paris, c1752)

Phaëteuse (ballet héroïque, 1, L. Fuzelier), Paris, Opéra, 20 July 1759 (Paris, 1759)

Zémide (ballet héroïque, 1, Chevalier de Laurès), Paris, Opéra, 20 July 1759 (Paris, 1759)

sacred vocal

Cantate Domino, grand motet, chorus, orch, op.1, perf. Concert Spirituel, July 1752 (Paris, c1759)

Benedic anima mea, Dominum, grand motet, perf. Versailles, chapel, 8 and 9 March 1753, ?lost

Petit motet, perf. Concert Spirituel, 6 April 1773, ?lost

BIBLIOGRAPHY

BrenetC

FétisB

La LaurencieEF

MGG1 (M. Briquet)

Annonces, affiches et avis divers (27 July, 30 Aug 1752), 460

Journal des savants (1754), 451

Mémoires de Trévoux (Feb 1754)

J. de la Porte and J.-M. Clément: Anecdotes dramatiques (Paris, 1775/R), 253

P.-L. Roualle de Boisgelou: Catalogue de la musique pratique (Paris, 1803)

E. Bouchard: L'Académie de musique de Moulins (Moulins, 1888), 596

HAROLD E. GRISWOLD

Isochronic.

A term applied to Text-setting in which new syllables are enunciated at regular intervals, regardless of the number of notes per syllable.

Isoiar, Nicolò.

See Isouard, Nicolò.

Isoir, André

(b Saint Dizier, 20 July 1935). French organist. He studied in Paris with Edouard Souberbielle at the Ecole César Franck, and then with Rolande Falcinelli at the Conservatoire, where in 1960 he won a premier prix for organ and improvisation. He won the St Albans International Organ Competition in 1965 and the Haarlem Competition in three consecutive years, 1966–8. Isoir was organist of the Paris churches of St Médard, 1962–7, and St Séverin, 1967–73, and in 1973 was appointed organist of St Germain-des-Prés. Although he won the composition prize of the Amis de l’Orgue with his Variations sur un psaume huguenot (1974), his career has been as a performer. He has specialized in French music of the 17th and early 18th centuries, and has explored little-known works by such composers as Titelouze, Lebègue, Boyvin, Dandrieu and Séjan. In his approach to the technique and registration of this repertory Isoir has been influenced by his interest in the construction and restoration of old organs. He has made many recordings, including the extensive compilation Le livre d’or de l’orgue français and works by Couperin, Grigny, Franck and Jehan Alain. He has also recorded the complete organ works of Bach. In 1978 he was appointed professor of organ at the Orsay Conservatoire.

FRANÇOIS SABATIER

Isola, Gaetano

(b Genoa, 1754; d Genoa, 17 July 1813). Italian composer. It is known from a letter he wrote to Padre Martini (in I-Bc) that he spent about ten years at the Palermo Conservatory studying for a diploma as maestro di cappella. Returning to Genoa in 1775 he began a career as a composer and music director. From 1777 to 1796 he was maestro di cappella at various churches and from 1789 maestro al cembalo at the Teatro S Agostino, of which he also seems to have been director at least for the last years of his life. In 1800 he was a member of the music section of the Istituto Nazionale della Liguria.

Between 1785 and 1797 six operas and an oratorio by him were performed in Genoa, Turin, Florence and Lisbon to public acclaim. Two in particular were big spectacle pieces. For La conquista del vello d’oro Boggio chose a mythological subject on which to construct an opera in the French style. It incorporates a dance of the infernal spirits and some machine spectacle in the form of a fire-breathing dragon and a temple of the sun appearing in mid-air. The trio that closes Act 2 contains programmatic storm music, generously scored for percussion and wind including solo bassoon, clarinet and trumpet in addition to the usual oboe and horn. In Le danaidi, the innovatory librettist Sertor provided a formally more fluid work including many ensembles, choruses and pantomime. Two of the ensembles involve some action, and several include a chorus.

Besides operas Isola wrote songs and sacred and instrumental music; his works survive only in manuscript. His sacred music includes a Credo and four-voice mass for the coronation of the doge Raffade de Ferrari, dated 25 November 1787. Isola also composed a few cantatas for the Accademia biennale delle Scuole Pie in Genoa. Of his stage works, in most cases only the librettos and a few arias survive. His pupils included the English tenor and composer John Braham.

WORKS

sacred

MSS in I-Gl unless otherwise stated

Sant’Elena al Calvario (orat, P. Metastasio), Lisbon, 1791, music lost

In convertendo, S, insts, Tunc dicent, Venientes, Sicut erat, all 1779; Confitebor, vv, insts, 1780; Tota pulchra, TTB, insts, 1780; Tantum ergo, A, org, 1780; Homo natus, T, insts, 1781; Manus tuae, 1v, insts, 1781; Regina celi, SA, orch, 1784; Parce mihi, B, insts, 1784; Tantum ergo, S, insts, 1784; Gratias, T, insts, 1785; Mass, 3–4vv, insts, 1785; Solus erro, motet, T, insts, 1785; Pellis meae, 3vv, insts, 1785; Tantum ergo, T, insts, 1786; Nunc dimittis e miserere, TB, insts, 1786; Cr, SATB, insts, 1787; Mass, SATB, insts, 1787; Cr, TB, insts, 1793; Off, SATB, insts, 1793; Veni sancte, SATB, insts, 1794; Cr, TB, b, I-Gsl; Laudate, A, insts; Mass, TB, org, Gsl; Qui abitat, 4vv, insts, Quoniam, T, insts

stage

Medonte, Genoa, S Agostino, carn. 1785, scena and rondo I-Gl, MOe

L’isola dei portenti (dg per musica, 2, P. Calvi), Voltri, nr Genoa, Palazzo Brignole Sale, aut. 1788, Gc

Lisandro (dramma serio per musica, 3, F. Ballani), Genoa, S Agostino, carn. 1790, duet I-MOe, scena and rondo Gl

La conquista del vello d’oro (dramma per musica, 3, G. Boggio), Turin, Regio, 26 Dec 1790, excerpts D-Dl, CH-Gc, aria I-Gl, Tn, aria Tf, P-La

Le danaidi (dramma per musica, 3, G. Sertor), Florence, Pergola, aut. 1792

‘Melodramma patriottico’ (G. Sauli), Genoa, S Agostino, 9 July 1797

Arias for insertion in: Artaserse, 1794 [comp. unknown], I-Gl, Rsc; Nasolini: La morte di Cleopatra, 1795, Gl; Virginia, 1798 [various comps.], Gl; Mayr: Lodoiska, 1799, Gl; Mayr: Ginevra di Scozia, 1802, Gl; Cimarosa: Penelope, 1803, Gl; Paisiello: I zingari in fiera, 1806, Gl; others for unspecified ops, CMbc, Gl, PAc, Tci

other works

Other vocal: Cant., STB, insts, I-Gl; 2 other cants., lost; Duettino notturno, S, T, str, 2 hn, op.2, 1790, D-Bsb

Inst: Sym, 1784, I-Gl*; Conc., D, hpd, str, Gl; Conc., C, hpd, str, Gl [inc; vn 1 only]

BIBLIOGRAPHY

C. Gervasoni: Nuova teoria di musica (Parma, 1812), 164

L. Grillo: ‘Gaetano Isola’, Giornale degli studiosi di lettere, scienze, arti e mestieri, i (1869), 209

A. Basso: Storia del Teatro Regio di Torino, v: Cronologie (Turin, 1988), 151

C. Bongiovanni: Il fondo musicale dell’Archivio capitolare del duomo di Genova (Genoa, 1990), 44–54

D. Calcagno: ‘L'opera di Gaetano Isola e gl'interessi musicali dell'Istituto nazionale’, Atti dell'Accademia ligure di scienze e lettere, l (1993), 411–31

C. Bongiovanni: ‘Aspetti di vita musicale settecentesca a genova dall'epistolario di padre G.B. Martini’, La Berio, xxxv/2 (1995), 49–74

CARMELA BONGIOVANNI, MARITA P. McCLYMONDS

Ísólfsson, Páll

(b Stokkseyri, 12 Oct 1893; d Reykjavík, 23 Nov 1974). Icelandic composer, organist, teacher and conductor. The son of an organist-composer, he began his musical studies with Sigfús Einarsson in Reykjavík in 1908. In 1913, with the financial assistance of his uncle, he enrolled at the Leipzig Conservatory; his teachers there included Karl Straube (organ), Robert Teichmüller (piano), Hans Grisch (theory), and Max Reger (analysis). He became Straube's assistant at the Thomaskirche (1917–19), and completed his studies with Bonnet in Paris (1924–5). After his return to Iceland, he gradually assumed a central role in the reshaping of the country's musical life. He was principal of the Reykjavík College of Music from its foundation in 1930 to 1957, and head of the music department of the Icelandic State Radio from 1930 to 1959 (apart from the period 1937–8). He was organist first at the Reykjavík Free Church (1926–39), then at Reykjavík Cathedral (1939–68). He received the Knight's Cross of the Order of the Falcon (1940) and the Grand Cross (1955), and was elected a member of the Royal Swedish Academy in 1956.

The first Icelandic instrumentalist of international renown, Ísólfsson's repertory was centered around the works of J.S. Bach and Reger. He toured Scandinavia, Germany, Great Britain, the United States, and the USSR, made solo recordings for HMV, and appeared with soloists such as Rostropovich and Telmányi. A pioneer in the performance of large-scale choral music in Reykjavík during the second quarter of the 20th century, he conducted works by Brahms (including the Begräbnisgesang and movements from the German Requiem) in 1926 and Haydn's Creation in 1939. His compositions are in a late-Romantic idiom influenced by Bach, Brahms and Reger. Many of his larger works were composed for specific occasions: his first major work, the Althingishátíðarkantata, won a competition for a work to be performed at the millenary of the Icelandic parliament in 1930. Among his other large-scale works are an organ Chaconne on a plainchant antiphon from the Office of St Thorlak, and a set of late-Brahmsian piano variations on a theme by his father, completed when he was in his 80s. A master of small forms, his most successful compositions include the hauntingly beautiful Vögguljóð (‘Lullaby’, op.2) and the ethereal Máríuvers (‘Hymn to the Virgin Mary’) for female voices, from his incidental music to Gullna hliðið (‘The Golden Gate’).

WORKS

(selective list)

Incid music (dates are of stagings in Reykjavík): Gullna hliðið [The Golden Gate] (D. Stefánsson), 26 Dec 1941; The Feast at Solhaug (H. Ibsen), 17 May 1943; Myndabók Jónasar Hallgrímssonar [Jónas Hallgrímsson's Picture Album] (H. Laxness after J. Hallgrímsson), 26 May 1945.

Inst: Humoresques, op. 1, pf, c1918; 3 Pf Pieces, op.5, c1920; Introduction and Passacaglia, org, c1930, orchd 1938; Chaconne, org, c1940, orchd J. Thórarinsson, 1967; Ostinato et fughetta, org, 1963, Variations on a Theme by Ísólfur Pálsson, pf, 1964

Vocal: 4 Songs, op. 2, v, pf, c. 1925; Althingishátíðarkantata [Althing Festival Cantata] (D. Stefánsson), solo vv, SATB, orch, 1929; Skálholtsljóð [Skálholt Cantata] (S. Einarsson), solo vv, SATB, orch, 1956; Songs from the Song of Solomon, 1v, pf, ?1972

Principal publishers: Icelandic Music Information Centre, Viking, Engstrøm & Sødring, Lengnick

BIBLIOGRAPHY

M. Johannessen: Hundathúfan og hafið (Reykjavík, 1961)

J. Thórarinsson: Páll Ísólfsson (Reykjavík, 1963)

M. Johannessen: Í dag skein sól (Reykjavík, 1964)

J. Thórarinsson: ‘Páll Ísólfsson’, Andvari, no.104 (1979), 3–32

G. Bergendal: New Music in Iceland (Reykjavík, 1991)

ÁRNI HEIMIR INGÓLFSSON

Isomelism

(from Gk. isos: ‘identical’ and melos: ‘melody’; Ger. Isomelie).

A term coined by Heinrich Besseler for the melodic resemblances in the upper parts between different sections of certain isorhythmic motets of the first half of the 15th century. Isomelic recurrence may take place at the beginning of successive taleae and may involve transposition, as in the triplum of Du Fay’s Rite maiorem (ex.1). Since color and talea do not normally overlap in 15th-century motets (by contrast with earlier practice), isomelic resemblance may also be found at the beginning of successive colores, as in the triplum of Du Fay’s Fulgens iubar (ex.2). Isomelism of this kind, also found in music of the Old Hall Manuscript (see Bukofzer), is not related to the cantus firmus. (In this special meaning of coloration, the term was used by E. Reeser.)

Isomelism was once regarded as highly significant, but its importance has since been disputed. Scholars at first interpreted it as a product of conscious compositional procedure: either as a means of ‘symbolizing’ isorhythmic structures, and hence clarifying them (Besseler), or simply as a device which could be inserted in order to mark off isorhythmic sections (Bukofzer, Eggebrecht, Reichert). At the other extreme, Sanders regarded it as a mere by-product of motet composition. More recently, an intermediate view has gained acceptance (see Finscher and Laubenthal).

The majority of melodic connections within motets involve variation rather than strict repetition. It does not seem in such cases that a calculated decision has been made; however, the decision has been not for identity, but against it. In other words: the compositional procedure for the upper parts involves working out certain passages a number of times using variational techniques: the basic contrapuntal outline remains the same each time because of the construction of the tenor part. This is particularly clear in the case of panisorhythmic motets, because of their especially narrow pre-compositional constraints. The technique of variational changes at the openings of successive taleae and colores (which originated either in England or in the Ciconia circle) can therefore be seen as a means of avoiding similarity between sections. In this way it is comparable to certain techniques of cantus firmus coloration (in the sense of diminution).

In some exceptional cases (as in the motetus of O proles Hispanie, probably by Ciconia, and in certain works by Du Fay), upper parts do contain precise repetition of melodic material, and here a conscious compositional decision in favour of isomelism may indeed be inferred. Like so many other highly individual techniques used by motet composers between 1400 and 1450, however (including melodic and rhythmic imitation, duet construction etc.), these must be put down to the subtilitas of the composer; the intention is not to create a separate compositional genre.

(2) Although the term ‘isomelic’ normally refers exclusively to upper parts, it has also been used in connection with certain aspects of color construction and hence with the tenor part, notably by Reeser and Reese.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

ReeseMR

H. Besseler: Die Musik des Mittelalters und der Renaissance (Potsdam, 1931), 206

E.Reeser: ‘ Een “iso-melische mis” uit den tijd van Dufay’, TVNM, xvi (1946), 151–2

M.F. Bukofzer: Studies in Medieval and Renaissance Music (New York, 1950)

G. Reichert: ‘ Das Verhältnis zwischen musikalischer und textlicher Struktur in den Motetten Machauts’, AMw, xiii (1956), 197–216

S.E. Brown: ‘ New Evidence of Isomelic Design in Dufay’s Isorhythmic Motets’, JAMS, x (1957), 7–13

H.H. Eggebrecht: ‘Machauts Motette Nr.9’, AMw, xix–xx (1962–3), 281–93; xxv (1968), 173–95; repr. in Sinn und Gehalt: Aufsätze zur musikalischen Analyse (Wilhelmshaven, 1979), 43–105

E.H. Sanders: ‘ The Medieval Motet’, Gattungen der Musik in Einzeldarstellungen: Gedenkschrift Leo Schrade, ed. W. Arlt and others (Berne, 1973), 497–573

L. Finscher and A. Laubenthal: ‘“Cantiones quae vulgo motectae vocantur”: Arten der Motette im 15. und 16. Jahrhundert’, Die Musik des 15. und 16. Jahrhunderts, ed. L. Finscher (Laaber, 1990), ii, 277–370

LAURENZ LÜTTEKEN

Ison

(Gk.).

(1) A Byzantine neume indicating the repetition of a note at the same pitch as the preceding one; see Byzantine chant, §3(ii).

(2) In the performance of Byzantine liturgical music, the drone-like sustaining of the fundamental note of the mode by some members of the choir while the other singers chant the melody; see Byzantine chant, §14.

Isoré, Guillaume.

See Ysoré, Guillaume.

Isorelli, Duritio.

Singer and viola bastarda player, possible collaborator in the Rappresentatione di Anima, e di Corpo of Emilio de’ Cavalieri.

Isorhythm

(from Gk. isos: ‘equal’ and rhythmos: ‘rhythm’).

A modern term applied with varying degrees of strictness to the periodic repetition or recurrence of rhythmic configurations, often with changing melodic content, in tenors and other parts of 14th- and early 15th-century compositions, especially motets. Since its introduction, however, the term has been more widely applied than is warranted, often with conflicting meanings. It belongs to a family of descriptive terms including ‘isomel(od)ic’ (see Isomelism), ‘isochronous’, ‘isosyllabic’ and ‘isometric’; for ‘isoperiodic’ and ‘panisorhythm’ (where all voice-parts of a composition participate in rhythmic repeats) see below.

1. Medieval theory.

3. Isorhythmic motets.

4. England, Italy: isorhythm outside motets.

5. Generic status; limits of the term.

MARGARET BENT

1. Medieval theory.

No equivalent term was used or needed in medieval theory, which instead used the words ‘color’ and ‘talea’; these now designate tenor melodic and rhythmic units respectively, and are more supple analytical instruments than any single concept of ‘isorhythm’, although then they were less clearly distinguished (see Color, (1) and Talea). Johannes de Muris (Libellus cantus mensurabilis, ed. in CoussemakerS, iii, 58, with corrections by U. Michels: Die Musiktraktate des Johannes de Muris, Wiesbaden, 1970, p.49), among others, applied the term ‘color’ to the repetition of a rhythmic pattern to different pitches, but added that musicians commonly distinguished ‘color’ as the repetition of the same pitches to different rhythms and ‘talea’ as the repetition of the same rhythms to different pitches. This accords both with modern usage and with instructions for tenor repetition in several musical sources, including ‘color’ for melody in Du Fay's O gemma, lux and Billart's Salve virgo virginum, and ‘talea’ for rhythm in Alpha vibrans/Cetus (ed. in PMFC, v, 1969, no.25 and CMM, xxxix, 1965), Ciconia's Petrum Marcello and Sarto's Romanorum rex. A similar distinction is made by the anonymous vernacular Florentine treatise (ed. in CSM, v, 1957, p.56) and the Berkeley treatise of 1375 (ed. and trans. O.B. Ellsworth, Lincoln, NE, 1984, pp.180–81). Most other Italian theorists follow de Muris's near equation of color and talea (Prosdocimus de Beldomandis: Tractatus practice … ad modum Ytalicorum, ed. in CoussemakerS, iii, pp.228–48; Ugolino of Orvieto: Declaratio musicae disciplinae, ii, ed. in CSM, vii, 1960).

Johannes Boen (Ars, c.1355; ed. in CSM, xix, 1972), perhaps followed by the late 14th-century author of the Tractatus figurarum (see Egidius de Murino), used ‘color’ (‘colorare’) for the division of the tenor melody chosen to be ordered (‘ordinare’, as in the 13th-century ‘ordo’, ‘ordines’) into the rhythmically identical groups now called ‘taleae’. Boen cited specific examples: in Vitry's Impudenter circuivi/Virtutibus, to what we would call the second color (melody) statement ‘the composer applied the same color [rhythmic disposition, what would now be called talea] as before’. (This 30-note tenor is disposed in five six-note ‘parts’ – we should say ‘taleae’ – then the whole melody is repeated in halved values.) Boen also cited Apta caro/Flos virginum, likewise with a 30-note color, stated twice: ‘but then he split [the whole 60-note tenor] into three [rhythmic] parts, 20 notes each, and by an identical arrangement preserved beautiful color in the succeeding two parts’. A similar overlapping of color and talea is seen in Machaut's motet Fons tocius O livoris/Fera pessima (ex.1); another is exemplified by the late 14th-century Anonymous V (Ars cantus mensurabilis, ed. C.M. Balensuela, Lincoln, NE, 1994, p.258), also from a surviving motet, Rex Karole/Leticie pacis (ed. in PMFC, v, 1986, no.26), whose tenor overlaps color and talea with five 24-note rhythmic statements imposed on two 60-note melodic statements. The same theorist gives Ida capillorum/Portio nature as an example of color: the same sounds are repeated but ‘under different figures’ (p.256); the beginnings of these four statements are shown in ex.2. The same tenor is ‘isorhythmic’ in notation but not in result; it is read successively in perfect and imperfect time (i.e. mensural transformation), then again in diminution at the next note-level down, also with mensural transformation. While theorists discussed color and talea mainly with reference to the tenor, contemporary compositions cultivated isorhythmic repetitions (without diminution) in other voices, most clearly in hockets and where the taleae join, and in some cases consistently in all parts, for which Apel used the term ‘panisorhythm[ic]’ (1955, pp.139–40). None of the theorists' examples, of which this is a virtually complete list, is panisorhythmic; their tenor plans differ, and there was no single isorhythmic paradigm. Theorists and musical repertory alike show more interest in cultivating variety than identity.

2. Development of the term.

The German word Isorhythmie was coined by Friedrich Ludwig in 1904 (SIMG, v, p.223) to describe exact rhythmic repeats, to different melodies, in the 13th-century motetus part of On parole/A Paris/Frese nouvele (F-MOf H196, no.302, 368v–369v; ed. Y. Rokseth: Polyphonies du XIIIe siècle, Paris, 1935–9, and in RRMMA, ii-viii, 1979). He next applied it in 1910 (pp.444–5), still for the 13th century, to successive phrases of equal length but not necessarily the same rhythm, a phenomenon whose 14th-century use Besseler (AMw, 1926, p.201, n.1) called ‘isoperiodic’ (the German noun is Isoperiodik), meaning that ‘the upper voices only follow the plan of the lower voices in a general way or have merely a few bars rhythmically identical in each Tenor period’ (Günther, MD, 1958). Isoperiodicity, unlike isorhythm, cannot survive diminution of the overall length of a phrase. Sanders developed the idea of modular numbers to represent the periodic construction of motet upper voices bounded by rests (Grove6; 1973), sometimes non-coincident, or offset (see also Harrison, PMFC, xv, 1980/R). Ludwig (AdlerHM) extended the term ‘isorhythm’ to 14th-century repertory on the basis of his work on Machaut and the manuscript I-IVc, and it was this sense that Besseler adopted, listing the isorhythmic motet repertory as then known (AMw, 1926, pp.222–4), though including many motets with a very weak claim on the definition. Sanders favours defining ‘“isorhythm” in the sense of such rhythmic occurrences in all voices’ (Grove6).

The more closely panisorhythm was approached, the higher the generic status became: ‘the Tenor (color) is frequently repeated several times and usually made up of a number of rhythmically identical periods (taleae). If the upper voices also follow this scheme, the composition is an isorhythmic motet’ (Günther, MD, 1958, p.29). Thus the term ‘isorhythmic motet’ came to denote a distinct and more exalted genre cultivated from the 1310s to the 1440s, irrespective of scale, text or occasion.

Modern analytic formula notations have been devised to summarize isorhythmic motet structures. The systems of Besseler (1926), Reaney (CMM, xi, 1955–76, xviii), de Van (CMM, i/1, 1947) and Günther (CMM, xxxix, 1965) do not indicate color, color-talea relationships or the extent and nature of diminution. Apel (1955) adopted a simpler system to indicate color-talea relationships in the tenor only, which is likewise incomplete (see Turner, MAn, 1991). Such systems can convey overall proportions but not, or not so readily, the mensural transformations that cause them or new rhythmicization of the second color, let alone the extent of isorhythm in the upper parts. Varying combinations of letters and numerals, sometimes illogical or inconsistent, are used by editors to mark these events in the scores. Principal parallel events can be aligned, as Ludwig did in his Machaut edition; and although such layout still cannot represent overlaps and displacements, it can help the modern reader more effectively than most formulae. The analyst must consult not only editions (with their pitfalls for the unwary) but often also manuscripts. The repertory's resistance to standard formulations belies the widespread modern notion of a strict and uniform ‘isorhythmic’ principle.

3. Isorhythmic motets.

From the start, motets were shaped by tenor repetition. Short repeating rhythmic-modal units (ordines; see Rhythmic modes) in 13th-century pieces are occasionally superimposed on non-coincident melodic units. Despite such repetitions, the status of ‘isorhythmic’ is now usually reserved not for the 13th-century repertory that prompted it (see the exclusions by Sanders, Grove6) but for later motets where such repetition extends to parts other than the tenor (Günther, MD, 1958), or to more ambitious schemes of a kind of ‘developing variation’. Besseler cited Se je chante/Bien dois/Et sperabit (F-MOf H196, no.294) as the earliest instance involving all voices in rhythmic recurrence in the hocket passages, but without regular tenor patterning (see Sanders, Grove6, esp. ex.2). Upper-voice correspondences were hardly present in the 13th century, but rapidly increased in the 14th, first in hocket sections and around talea joins (see ex.1). In the 14th century tenor units often became longer, and repetitions more systematic and more adventurous. The rhythmic innovations of the French Ars Nova enabled upper-voice micro-relationships to mirror the more sustained tenor durations that undergirded the structure, but no single new principle emerged that was neither anticipated in the 13th century nor extended in the 15th.

Of over 100 surviving 14th-century motets, only 15 are panisorhythmic. Many others (including some by Machaut and in I-IVc) have at least tenor isorhythm; many have extensive upper-part isoperiodicity and some exact isorhythmic repetition, especially in hockets, around talea-joins and in diminution sections (see ex.1). Before about 1350, panisorhythm occurs only in Machaut's Amours qui ha le povoir Faus Samblant/Vidi Dominum (no.15) and in four motets in I-IVc. Early datings in the 1310s have recently been suggested for some motets with upper-voice isorhythm and precocious features of notation (Leech-Wilkinson, 1995; Kügle, 1997, chap.3; see Vitry, Philippe de). Günther argued from statistics of survival and characteristics that ‘the [isorhythmic] motet with its long tradition as an art-form of the first rank has had to give way [around 1400] before the more modern polyphonic song’ (MD, 1958, p.47). This view of a declining genre is superseded by Allsen's listing (1992) of 134 mostly panisorhythmic motets (including fragments) from the first half of the 15th century. Among the better-known composers of altogether nearly 250 ‘isorhythmic’ motets are Vitry, Machaut, Ciconia, Dunstaple and Du Fay; many motets are anonymous, including 40 in I-Tn 9 (from Cyprus). Other principal manuscript repositories include the Roman de Fauvel (F-Pn fr.146; 34 motets), I-IVc (37), the Machaut manuscripts (23), F-CH 564, the Old Hall Manuscript (GB-Lbl Add.57950), I-Bc 15 and I-MOe X.I.11. (see Sources, ms, §§V, VII and IX, 1–3). These approximate figures for the repertory need adjustment to take into account different modern understandings of isorhythm; in addition, isorhythmic mass movements and many anomalous or non-isorhythmic motet forms should be considered. It was in the first half of the 15th century, and not in the 14th, as is generally believed, or in the 13th, for which Ludwig first coined the word, that the cultivation of rhythmic identity had its brief and major flowering.

Color and talea can be manipulated in many combinations. Usually there are several taleae within a color. Sometimes melodic and rhythmic units are overlapped (as in Rex Karole and several of Machaut's motets; see ex.1). Some motets present subsequent statements of the color in the same rhythm; others challenge an isorhythmic classification by presenting the repeats in mensural transformation and/or diminution. In ex.2, taleas I and III are read in perfect modus; II and IV interpret the same notation in imperfect modus and therefore do not have the same rhythmic results; the first two statements inex.3 are likewise distinguished from the third; ex.5 achieves the ‘same’ results but counted out in different, accelerating mensurations. In ex.2 taleas III and IV are read in diminution; ex.4 has a written-out diminution to which mensural transformation is also applied. In ex.3, the first statement is in augmentation in relation to the last (notated). The second color is sometimes not even a diminution of the first but independently rhythmicized and with its own separate set of internal repeats (though such distinctions are now rarely made). Occasionally, tenors are presented in retrograde. Machaut's motets with irregularly repeating song tenors have not normally been counted as isorhythmic; nor have extreme cases of mensural transformation (such as Inter densas/Imbribus, see Bent, 1992), though slight deviations due to the same principle have often been overlooked in motets commonly classified as isorhythmic.

4. England, Italy: isorhythm outside motets.

Although the isorhythmic motet has usually been considered mainly a French phenomenon, Sanders draws attention to numerous early English instances, unknown to Ludwig and Besseler, that form an important background to the wide variety of motet styles in 14th-century England (ed. in PMFC, xv, 1980/R); about 25 have some form of tenor isorhythm (Sanders, Grove6; 1973). The Old Hall Manuscript applies French techniques to diversely ‘isorhythmic’ works; its later motets settle to a panisorhythmic English tripartite design (Allsen, 1992, chap.4), best known from Dunstaple (Bent, 1981, chap.4; see ex.3).

The earliest Italian uses of rhythmic repetition are not in motets but in madrigals: Landini's Si dolce non sonò (in praise of Vitry) and Lorenzo da Firenze's Povero zappator, in which short units are immediately followed by their own diminutions and the resulting larger patterns are repeated. Only after 1400 did isorhythm enter the Italian tradition of ceremonial and occasional motets (Bent, 1992; Allsen, 1992, chap.3). In each half of Ciconia's motet Petrum Marcello the tenor follows the undiminished form immediately with its diminution, while in two other motets Ciconia makes the second half an undiminished rhythmic replication, in all voices, of the first. The tenor of his Doctorum principem is read in three different mensurations, and is therefore not isorhythmic in result. In both the Italian and English repertories rhythmic repetition takes its place among a wide range of techniques less well served by the criteria developed largely for French repertory.

Various forms of isorhythm also appear in other French genres, including Machaut's ballade S'Amours ne fait (no.1, before 1350) and in three rondeaux in the late 14th-century Chantilly manuscript (F-CH 564) by Matteo de Sancto Johanne (Je chante ung chan), Haucourt (Se doit il plus) and Vaillant (Pour ce que je ne say), as well as in the 15th-century English goliardic-texted drinking song O potores in GB- Lbl 3307. A few 14th-century mass movements (notably Machaut's) employ some form of isorhythm, and around 1400, especially in England, isorhythmic principles of various kinds and strictness are applied to mass movements, separately or in cyclic combination.

The formal expansion enabled by 14th-century notational advances is paralleled by the 15th-century extension of the principles and spirit of these structuring techniques to the related movements of mass cycles, and to extended motet or antiphon compositions, often in several proportioned sections, articulated by mensural change, vocal scoring and isorhythm. It is hard to establish boundaries for the concept of isorhythm within the evolution of these large forms; there is an ongoing body of music governed by mensurally, proportionally or rhythmically (but not necessarily isorhythmically) structured tenors or sections, representing the evolution rather than the cessation of a tradition (Dammann, AMw, 1953; Brothers, JAMS, 1991). Some of Du Fay's grandest motets of the 1430s have only a single talea per color, which precludes intra-sectional upper-part isorhythm, thus calling their isorhythmic credentials into question.

Indeed, the cyclic mass extends principles of rhythmic unification and proportioned sections defined by mensuration change to Ordinary cycles on a single cantus firmus. The movements of Dunstaple's Jesu Christe Fili Dei are related to each other by tenor isorhythm; in addition, each surviving movement is internally isorhythmic, with two cantus firmus statements, the second in diminution, each with its own proportioned (but not isorhythmic) perfect–imperfect time change. The anonymous ‘Caput’ Mass has tenor identity between all movements, but two differently rhythmicized statements of the cantus firmus in each, respectively in perfect and imperfect time. Dunstaple's Mass Da gaudiorum premia and Power's Alma Redemptoris Mass likewise have tenor identity between but not within movements, with change from perfect to imperfect time; the length of non-tenor duets varies among movements. Rex seculorum presents a differently rhythmicized version of the same chant in each movement, but retains the same chant divisions between perfect and imperfect time sections. The movements of Du Fay's Missa ‘Se la face ay pale’ are unified by single or multiple isorhythmic statements of the cantus-firmus, and by carefully controlled proportions. On the isorhythmic status of such cases, as on the cantus-firmus based sectional motets and antiphons of the later 15th century, opinion remains divided.

5. Generic status; limits of the term.

The emphasis on identity has fostered a view of the isorhythmic motet as a rule-bound monolith, whence it became the prestigious and defining genre of the French Ars Nova, to the detriment of the varied range of motet strategies both covered by and excluded from it: ‘the grandiose manifestation of the speculative medieval view’ (Dammann, AMw, 1953, p.16). It was precisely during the period (1920s to 50s) when serialism was introduced and evolved to total serialization that medievalists rejoiced in uncovering a validating intellectual construct which, in its purest form, could account for every note of compositions. In the 20th century composers including Birtwistle, Maxwell Davies, Wuorinen, Messiaen and Berg used isorhythm (see Kügle, MGG2).

Number and proportion have been stressed as guiding principles of motet construction and isorhythmic diminutions (Sanders, 1973; Trowell, PRMA, 1978–9; Bent, 1990; Bent and Howlett, 1990; Brothers, 1991; Turner, 1991; Bent, 1992; see also Du fay). Combinations of numbers, structural features and allusions remain the basis for identifying linked pairs or groups of motets (whether by the same or, as homage or competition, different composers) and numerous instances of allusion and play in which one motet acknowledges another (such as the series of ‘musician’ motets, mostly ed. in PMFC, v and xv, the Marigny motets, in F-Pn fr.146; see also Leech-Wilkinson, PRMA, 1983; Allsen, 1992, chap.6; Kügle, 1997, chap.3). The combination of mensural transformation and proportional diminution mentioned above in Ida capillorum/Portio nature (see ex.2) is also conspicuous in the Credo Omni tempore (Bent, 1990). But further examination shows that most such diminutions, and any irregularities of result, are due to a mensural strategy with proportional consequences, proportions that may indeed be deliberate and reflected in other quantifiable aspects of the motet, such as textual elements. In the 14th century diminution (see Diminution, §2) was defined not (as is now usual) by numerical proportion, but as the substitution of the next lower note value, which may produce an asymmetrical relationship; the resulting proportion, regular or irregular, is a consequence of this, not the cause. For example, Humane lingue/Supplicum voces (PMFC, xv no.36; see ex.4), presents the tenor color first in normal values (in imperfect modus, perfect tempus) then in written-out diminution (in perfect tempus, minor prolation) at the next level down. This produces different results: the perfect-time notes take a third of their former value, the imperfect (coloured) half.

Recent work challenges the continuing appropriateness of the term ‘isorhythmic motet’ in the face of increasingly refined analyses, new repertories and anomalous forms marginalized as motets mainly because they are not ‘isorhythmic’ (Bent, 1992; Kügle, 1997, chap.3). A more neutral general term, or a repertory of specific terms, would suit a fuller range of structuring techniques. Several procedures commonly subsumed under ‘isorhythm’ do not, or do not necessarily, produce rhythmic identity; these include:

(i) newly rhythmicized second color statements (as in Vos/Gratissima, Firmissime/Adesto, Douce/Garison);

(ii) mensural transformation of a color repeat. Such transformation between perfect and imperfect relationships will not always result in the ‘different’ rhythms of exx.2 and 3, depending on the permutations and note-values actually used. The same notation and the same process may produce either the same or different results; it is therefore wrong to classify all such cases as isorhythmic, and artificial to segregate differing outcomes generated by the same procedure. Some such transformations have been loosely classified as diminutions because the tenor notes become progressively shorter; but as in Sub Arturo plebs (ex.5), an imperfect long whose breves successively contain nine, six and four minims is still an undiminished but mensurally transformed long in each statement. The resulting proportions are contrived by mensuration signs and named in the motetus text as ‘twice by hemiola’. This tenor is strictly isorhythmic, not because of its transformative process, but only because it avoids shorter note values that would have been subject to alteration and imperfection thereby producing different rhythms.

(iii) diminution of a color repeat. This involves the substitution of a note of the next level down, a breve for a long, etc.; such diminution can be applied mentally, or it can be written out. When duple and triple relationships are reflected in the diminution process, the resulting rhythms are indeed the same (isorhythmic), and the result is, for example, ‘by half’, as indeed some theorists say. But if those duple and triple relationships shift, or if successive statements invoke different mensurations with different applications of alteration and imperfection, their relationship can no longer be properly described as isorhythmic.

Mensural transformations and diminution can each produce the same or slightly or extremely different internal rhythmic relationships; on the other hand, apparently slight differences may result from new rhythmicizations of the color, while some deceptively extreme mensural essays (such as Inter densas/Imbribus) derive from the same notation, as can retrograde forms and canons. To create an isorhythmic/non-isorhythmic distinction within the conflated categories of mensural and diminutional transformation obscures fundamental differences between these categories, as does modern notation. Only exact repetitions with no change of mensuration and no diminution can reliably, if trivially, meet isorhythmic criteria; other repetitions may only do so by virtue of constraints such as the avoidance of variable note values. In addition, an isorhythmic classification privileges one particular kind of periodic repetition at the expense of melodic and verbal craft, all of which are interrelated in complex and varied ways; it subordinates the artistic cultivation of variety, difference and displacement, such that these are noted negatively, as absence, irregularity or incompleteness of isorhythm. Composers and theorists throughout the period cultivated variety rather than uniformity: almost every motet of the period is a unique essay in difference not identity. As a descriptive term of limited application, isorhythm is unproblematic; but as an overall validating name for a genre, it is ripe for reconsideration.

See also Discant; Mass, §II; Motet, §I; and Old Hall Manuscript.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

AdlerHM (‘Die geistliche, nichtliturgische, weltliche einstimmige und die mehrstimmige Musik des Mittelalters’)

Grove6 (E.H. Sanders)

MGG2 (K. Kügle)

F. Ludwig: ‘Die 50 Beispiele Coussemaker's aus der Handschrift von Montpellier’, SIMG, v (1903–4), 177–224

F. Ludwig: Repertorium organorum recentioris et motetorum vetustissimi stili (Halle, 1910/R as SMM, vii), 444–5

H. Besseler: ‘Studien zur Musik des Mittelalters’, AMw, vii (1925), 167–252; viii (1926), 137–258

H. Besseler: Die Musik des Mittelalters und der Renaissance (Potsdam, 1931/R)

R. Dammann: ‘Spätformen der isorhythmischen Motette im 16. Jahrhundert’, AMw, x (1953), 16–40

W. Apel: ‘Remarks about the Isorhythmic Motet’, L'Ars Nova: Wégimont II 1955, 139–48

G. Reichert: ‘Das Verhältnis zwischen musikalischer und textlicher Struktur in den Motetten Machauts’, AMw, xiii (1956), 197–216

U. Günther: ‘The 14th-Century Motet and its Development’, MD, xii (1958), 27–58

K. Mixter: ‘Isorhythmic Design in the Motets of Johannes Brassart’, Studies in Musicology: Essays … in Memory of Glen Haydon, ed. J. Pruett (Chapel Hill, NC, 1969), 179–89

W. Dömling: ‘Isorhythmie und Variation’, AMw, xxviii (1971), 24–32

E.H. Sanders: ‘The Medieval Motet’, Gattungen der Musik in Einzeldarstellungen: Gedenkschrift Leo Schrade, ed. W. Arlt and others (Berne, 1973), 497–573

A. Ziino: ‘Isoritmia musicale e tradizione metrica mediolatina nei mottetti di Guillaume de Machaut’, Medioevo Romanzos, v (1978), 438–65

B. Trowell: ‘Proportion in the Music of Dunstable’, PRMA, cv (1978–9), 100–41

M. Bent: Dunstaple (London, 1981)

D. Leech-Wilkinson: Compositional Procedure in the Four-Part Isorhythmic Works of Philippe de Vitry and his Contemporaries (Cambridge, 1983)

D. Leech-Wilkinson: ‘Related Motets from Fourteenth-Century France’, PRMA, cix (1983), 1–22

M. Bent: ‘The Fourteenth-Century Italian Motet’, L'Europa e la musica del Trecento: Congresso IV: Certaldo 1984: L’Ars Nova italiana del Trecento, vi (Certaldo, 1992)], 85–125

P.M. Lefferts: The Motet in England in the Fourteenth Century (Ann Arbor, 1986)

M. Bent: ‘The Yoxford Credo’, Essays in Musicology: a Tribute to Alvin Johnson, ed. L. Lockwood and E. Roesner (1990), 26–51

M. Bent and D. Howlett: ‘Subtiliter alternare: the Yoxford Motet O amicus/Precursoris’, CM, nos.45–7 (1990) [Sanders Fs, issue, ed. P.M. Lefferts and L.L. Perkins], 43–84

T. Brothers: ‘Vestiges of the Isorhythmic Tradition in Mass and Motet, ca. 1450–1475’, JAMS, xliv (1991), 1–56

C. Turner: ‘Proportion and Form in the Continental Isorhythmic Motet c. 1385–1450’, MAn, x (1991), 89–124

J.M. Allsen: Style and Intertextuality in the Isorhythmic Motet 1400–1440 (diss., U. of Wisconsin-Madison, 1992)

M. Bent: ‘The Late-Medieval Motet’, Companion to Medieval and Renaissance Music, ed. T. Knighton and D. Fallows (London, 1992), 114–19

L. Lütteken: Guillaume Dufay und die isorhythmische Motette (Hamburg, 1993)

D. Leech-Wilkinson: ‘The Emergence of Ars nova’, JM, xiii (1995), 285–317

K. Kügle: The Manuscript Ivrea, Biblioteca capitolare 115: Studies in the Transmission and Composition of Ars Nova Polyphony (Ottawa, 1997)

Isouard, Nicolò [Nicholas; Nicolas; Nicolo] [Isoiar, Nicolò; Nicolò de Malt(h)e]

(b Valletta, Malta, 16 May 1773/6 Dec 1775; d Paris, 23 March 1818). French composer of Maltese birth. He was among those who determined a final form for opéra comique.

MARIE BRIQUET/DAVID CHARLTON, HERVÉ LACOMBE (1, work-list), HERVÉ LACOMBE (2)

1. Life.

Isouard was baptized John-Joachim-Edward-Nicholas. As a composer he often used the names Nicolas or Nicolò de Malte. His father, Fortunato Isouard Xuereb, was a merchant and secretary to the government storehouses, married to Elena Maria Lombardo. Constant Campion, Commander of the Maltese Order of Knights, financed Nicolas's first stay in Paris and education at the Pensionnat Berthaud, a preparatory school for the Engineers and Artillery, where he learnt Latin, drawing and mathematics, and the piano with Pin. The Revolution forced him to leave France in 1790, and back in Malta his father placed him in a merchant's office. He played the piano in society with success and studied counterpoint with Michelangelo Vella and Francesco Azzopardi, who were both associated with the Neapolitan school. On 10 November 1791 Vincenzo Anfossi (brother of the composer) became organist at the church of St-Jean-de-Jerusalem in Malta, and Isouard became his assistant. But, soon after, he was sent by his father to Palermo as a merchant's assistant where he studied composition with Giuseppe Amendola; later, in Naples, he worked for the German bankers Cutler and Herzelin, completing his composition studies with Sala and, thanks to Princess Belmonte's recommendation, with P.A. Guglielmi.

Early in 1794 Isouard's début as a composer took place in Florence with the opera L'avviso ai maritati, which was enthusiastically received and later given in Lisbon, Dresden and Madrid. From this time, he abandoned commerce and called himself Nicolò de Malte in order not to compromise his family. His next opera was Artaserse, commissioned by the singer Senesino; it was produced with success in Livorno. The Grand Master of the Maltese Order of Knights, Rohan, commissioned a mass from Isouard (dated January 1795), and in November or December of 1795 Isouard was received as Donatus of the order. On the death of Vincenzo Anfossi in January 1796 he was appointed organist of the church of St-Jean-de-Jerusalem. During this time he wrote his sacred works, but also composed Italian operas (some of them based on French plays) for the Maltese theatre. In July 1797, the impresario Rosario di Majo sent him to Naples, where he persuaded the singer Paolo Febraro to come and work in Malta. Following the French invasion in June 1798, Isouard and his father collaborated with the French; three months later General Vaubois appointed Isouard commissioner of the Théâtre Manoel, and when the surrender was signed in September 1800 he took Isouard with him back to Paris. Le petit page, Isouard's first Parisian opéra comique, was given in the Théâtre Feydeau on 14 February 1800, and was composed in collaboration with Rodolphe Kreutzer. Their second collaboration, the serious opera Flaminius à Corinthe (1801), was a failure, but Isouard had success in the same year with Le tonnelier and the French translation of L'improvisata in campagna. His collaboration with the librettist E.J.B. Delrieu and his friendship with F.B. Hoffman influenced his sense of lyric drama, and he secured his first great success in 1802 with Michel-Ange, to a libretto by Delrieu.

Isouard's easy sociability, together with his membership of the freemasons, probably helped him make his way in Parisian society, and his mercantile experience led to the formation of the publishing concern Le Magasin de Musique (5 August 1802) with Cherubini, Méhul, Rode, Kreutzer and Boieldieu. Intended to further the works of its co-founders, it survived until 1811, although Isouard retired from the association in 1807, and published some of his own works. After his death his widow (under the name Veuve Nicolo) assured the distribution of his compositions and arrangements before ceding the collection to Troupenas in 1825. His collaboration with the librettist C.J. Etienne, editor of the Journal des deux mondes, began with Un jour à Paris (1808). In 1810 they produced the biggest financial success of this period at the Opéra-Comique with the fairy-tale opera Cendrillon, which imitated Grétry's Zémir et Azor with its moral subject based on mistaken appearances, the transformation of Cendrillon (like Azor) and the rose as a symbol of beauty. This success reconciled Isouard with his father, who came from Malta for his son's wedding to Claudine Berthault (b 1785) on 11 January 1812.

Isouard's creativity was stimulated by the return in 1811 of his chief competitor, Boieldieu, from eight years in Russia. In his later works Isouard showed extraordinary power of expression, which the levity and rapid composition of earlier operas had not admitted. When Boieldieu was elected to the Institut de France in 1817, however, Isouard broke off relations with his old friend, and they were still unreconciled when Isouard died the following year. His opera Aladin was completed by Benincori, who himself died before the première on 6 February 1822.

Isouard's daughter Ninette (1814–76), known as Ninette Nicolò, was a pianist and composer, mainly of songs. His brother Joseph-Alexandre-Victor-Antoine-Calcédoine-Jacques-Emmanuel Isoiar (1794–1863) was a tenor in opéra comique in France and elsewhere in Europe, afterwards (1825–33) becoming a director of theatrical companies in Lille, Ghent, Rouen, Nîmes and Toulouse.

2. Works.

Isouard's style is defined by his sense of declamation, the predominance of dance forms, occasional harmonic boldness (always for expressive ends), essentially syllabic ensembles with rapid parlando and repetition of phrases; his finales are in general less well-organized than those of Dalayrac or Boieldieu. From Cendrillon onwards his writing combines vocal virtuosity with a search for greater expression. His most striking trait is the way in which he matches in music the sense and tone of the words, as, for example, in Michel-Ange where an instrumental chromatic descent accompanies Pasquino as he falls asleep (no.7), or in Cimarosa (entr’acte) where the orchestra paints the night calm, snoring and the beginning of a fire.

L'intrigue aux fenêtres, created from a jeu de scène, and L'une pour l'autre, called a ‘comédie d'intrigue’ in the score, recall the origins of opéra comique in spoken theatre and this is further suggested by Isouard's use of melodrama techniques in much of his work. He often draws on situations linked directly with music. For example, Cimarosa depicts the sound of a piano (no.1), the composer searching for a melody and imitating various instruments (no.3), a performance class (no.4) and the bravos of the public and the whims of performers (no.5). Lully et Quinault presents the composer imagining the staging of his work (no.4). In the interests of verisimilitude Isouard also used pre-existing material, for example, an air by Lully (Lully et Quinault, no.4), or Quinault's words (Armide, Act 5). To create a sense of mystery he called on the glass harmonica (Magicien sans magie, no.10) and the celestial playing of the piano (Aladin, no.11); offstage and onstage music were also used to great effect. The musical portrayal of characters or emotions and the adaptation of musical style to situation become crucial: in Cendrillon the coloratura of the coquettish sisters contrasts with the syllabic declamation of the true and simple feelings of Cendrillon and Alidor; Cendrillon's singing of a popular air (‘Il était un p'tit homme’) confirms her simple character. Isouard often used specific styles and instruments to connote the setting, as for example in Joconde, in which, 50 years before Gounod in Mireille, Isouard created a Provençale local colour: a musette, introduced in the overture, is taken up again as a ritornello (no.12) and developed in the finale; a drone effect is created (nos.4, 10, 17); jingles and tambourins are used; the oboe and horn suggest a pastoral setting in the couplets (no.4) where an ‘oboi soli in guisa de Boscaresccia’ is called upon in the minor section. The fête at the end of Act II (no.9) of Jeannot et Colin seems to have been inspired by the onstage music with three orchestras in Mozart's Don Giovanni, and prefigures the vast polychoral constructions of the grands opéras of Rossini and Meyerbeer. The characters of the three quadrilles, les Bergères in 6/8 (A), les Basques in 2/4 (B) and les Troubadours in 2/4 (C), are defined musically and instrumentally as they succeed and combine with each other in the design A B AB C ABC.

Isouard's published scores provide remarkable glimpses of performance: he indicates with diagrams the precise position of the characters on stage and fixes tempos with Maelzel's metronome (see, for example, Les deux maris, L'une pour l'autre). Paradoxically, although criticized at first for his Italian style, his music represents ultimately one of the most important contributions to the determining of a final form for French opéra comique, balancing spoken comedy and opera, grace, spirit, emotion and will. This established him as the successor to Grétry, whose example he actively looked to follow in Jeannot et Colin, and Monsigny.

WORKS

printed works published in Paris unless otherwise stated

stage

first performed in Paris by the Opéra-Comique at the Théâtre Feydeau unless otherwise stated

L'avviso ai maritati (op, 2, F. Gonella), Florence, Pergola, 4 June 1794, F-Pc

Artaserse re di Persia (op, 3, P. Metastasio), Livorno, Avvalorati, Sept 1794

Il barbiere di Siviglia (ob, after P.-A. Beaumarchais), Malta, c1796

Rinaldo d'Asti (op, G. Carpani, after J.-B. Radet and P.-Y. Barré: Renaud d'Ast), Malta, c1796

L'improvvisata in campagna (ob, after E.J.B. Delrieu), Malta, 1797; rev. as L'impromptu de campagne (1, Delrieu), Paris, OC (Favart), 30 June 1801 (1801)

Il tonneliere, Malta, 1797; rev. as Le tonnelier (oc, 1, Delrieu and F.A. Quêtant), Paris, OC (Favart), 19 May 1801

I due avari (ob), Malta, c1797

Il barone d'Alba chiara (op), Malta, c1798

Ginevra di Scozia (op, after L. Ariosto), Malta, c1798

Le petit page, ou La prison d'état (cmda, 1, R.C.G. de Pixérécourt and L.T. Lambert), Paris, Feydeau, 14 Feb 1800 (n.d.), collab. R. Kreutzer

Flaminius à Corinthe (op, 1, Pixérécourt and Lambert), Paris, Opéra, 27 Feb 1801, Po (inc.), collab. Kreutzer

La statue, ou La femme avare (oc, 1, F.-B. Hoffman), 26 April 1802

Michel-Ange (op, 1, Delrieu), 11 Dec 1802 (1802)

Les confidences (comédie mêlée de chants, 2, A.G. Jars), 31 March 1803 (1803)

Le baiser et la quittance, ou Une aventure de garnison (oc, 3, L.B. Picard, M. Dieulafoy and C. de Longchamps), 18 June 1803, B-Bc, F-Pn, collab. E.-N. Méhul, A. Boieldieu and Kreutzer

Le médecin turc (opéra-bouffon, 1, P. Villiers and A. Gouffé), 19 Nov 1803 (1804)

L'intrigue aux fenêtres (opéra bouffon, 1, J.-N. Bouilly and L.E.F.C. Mercier-Dupaty), Paris, OC (Favart), 25 Feb 1805 (1805)

La ruse inutile, ou Les rivaux par convention (op, 2, Hoffman), Paris, OC (Favart), 30 May 1805 (1805)

Léonce, ou Le fils adoptif (comédie mêlée de musique, 2, B.-J. Marsollier), 18 Nov 1805 (1805)

La prise de Passau (oc, 2, Mercier-Dupaty), 8 Feb 1806

Le déjeuner de garçons (cmda, A.-F. Creuzé de Lesser), 24 April 1806 (c1806)

Idala, ou La sultane (oc, 3, Hoffman), 1 Aug 1806

Les rendez-vous bourgeois (opéra-bouffon mêlé d'ariettes, 1, Hoffman), 9 May 1807 (1807)

Les créanciers, ou Le remède à la goutte (oc, 3, J.-B.-C. Vial), 10 Dec 1807

Un jour à Paris, ou La leçon singulière (oc mêlé de musique, 3, C.-G. Etienne), 24 May 1808 (1808)

Cimarosa (oc, 2, Bouilly), 28 June 1808 (1808)

Zélomir, ou L'intrigue au sérail (oc, 3, Etienne), 25 April 1809

Cendrillon (opéra-féerie, 3, Etienne, after C. Perrault: Contes de ma mère l'oye), 22 Feb 1810 (c1810)

La victime des arts, ou La fête de famille (oc, 2, L.-M. d'Estourmel), 27 Feb 1811, collab. H.-M. Berton and J.-P. Solié

La fête de village, ou L'heureux militaire (oc, 1, Etienne), 31 March 1811

Le billet de loterie (cmda, 1, Creuzé de Lesser, J.-F. Roger), 14 Sept 1811 (c1811)

Le magicien sans magie (oc, 2, Creuzé de Lesser and Roger), 4 Nov 1811 (c1811)

Lully et Quinault, ou Le déjeuner impossible (oc, 1, P.C. Gaugiran-Nanteuil), 27 Feb 1812 (?1812)

Le prince de Catane (op, 3, R.R.L. Castel, after Voltaire: L'éducation d'un prince), 4 March 1813 (c1813)

Le français à Venise (oc, 1, M.A.J. Gensoul), 14 June 1813 (1813)

Bayard à Mézières, ou Le siège de Mézières (oc, 1, Mercier-Dupaty and R.A.P. Allisan de Chazet), 12 Feb 1814, vs (1814), collab. Boieldieu, C.-S. Catel and L. Cherubini

Joconde, ou Les coureurs d'aventures (comédie mêlée de chants, 3, Etienne), 28 Feb 1814 (c1814)

Jeannot et Colin (oc, 3, Etienne), 17 Oct 1814 (c1814)

Les deux maris (oc, 1, Etienne), 18 March 1816 (1816)

L'une pour l'autre ou L'enlèvement (oc, 3, Etienne), 11 May 1816 (c1816)

Aladin, ou La lampe merveilleuse (opéra-féerie, 5, Etienne), Paris, Opéra, 6 Feb 1822 (c1822), completed by A.M. Benincori

Une nuit de Gustave Wasa (op, 2), inc. [sketches and chorus for Act 1], completed by F. Gasse, 1825

other works

all unpublished; MSS chiefly in F-Pc, Pn

Sacred (before 1800): 3 Ky, 3 Gla, Cro, Mag, 2 Dixit Dominus, 2 Domine, 5 motets, all mixed vv, orch; Gloria patri, Diffusa est gratia, both 1v, orch; 14 other settings, mostly autograph

Cants.: La paix, solo vv, chorus, orch, 1802, copy, F-Po [on Peace of Amiens]; Hébé (Commandeur de St-Priest); 8 cants (Commandeur de Rohan)

Airs and romances: Duos, in the style of Cari and Steffani; 6 canzoncine, ou Petits airs italiens, pf/hp acc. (n.d.) [Fr. texts]; 6 duettinos, ou Petits duos italiens, pf/hp acc. (n.d.); Je ne sais quoy (F.-A.-E. de Planard), 1809 (n.d.); La romance historique de Marie Louise (J. Lablée), 1811 (n.d.); Dialogue entre Euterpe et Erato (Dupuy des Islets), 1813; Le ménestrel: ronde villageoise, 1814, Journal d’Euterpe (1816), no.3, p. 130; Rosier d’amour (N. Lefebvre), Journal d’Euterpe (1816), no.4, p.106; Les adieux, ou La constance du bon vieux temps (Lefebvre), c1816 (n.d.); numerous other works, 1–2 vv, acc. pf, gui, insts, many in Pn

II. Folk and popular music

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Choron-FayolleD

J.D. Martine: De la musique dramatique en France (Paris, 1813), chap.21

F. Fétis: ‘Nicolo Isouard’, Revue et gazette musicale de Paris, vii (1840), 32–3

Castil-Blaze: ‘Le piano de Grétry’, France musicale (10 Aug 1845)

‘Nicolo’, Le ménestrel (16 Dec 1860)

C. Pierre: Le Magasin de musique à l’usage des fêtes nationales et du Conservatoire (Paris, 1895/R), 105–15

E. Wahl: Nicolo Isouard: sein Leben und sein Schaffen auf dem Gebiet der Opéra Comique (Munich, 1906)

G. Kaiser, ed.: C.M. von Weber: sämtliche Schriften (Leipzig, 1908) [incl. ‘Cendrillon von Isouard’ [1811], 102; ‘Joconde von Isouard’ [1816], 266; ‘Das Lotterielos von Isouard’ [1817], 289]

J. Tiersot: Lettres de musiciens écrites en français du XVe au XXe siècle, i (Turin, 1924), 423–7

H. Gougelot: La romance française sous la Révolution et l’Empire (Melun, 1938–43)

M. Pincherle: Musiciens peints par eux-mêmes: lettres de compositeurs écrites en français (1771–1910) (Paris, 1939), 73–4

G. Favre: Boieldieu, sa vie, son oeuvre (Paris, 1944–5)

A.S. Garlington jr: The Concept of the Marvelous in French and German Opera 1770–1840 (diss., U. of Illinois, 1965)

D.P. Charlton: Orchestration and Orchestral Practice in Paris, 1789 to 1810 (diss., U. of Cambridge, 1973)

C. Nazloglou: Le goût musical en France à travers l'art lyrique, 1815–1840 (diss., U. of Nice, 1975)

K.A. Hagberg: ‘Cendrillon’ by Daniel Steibelt: an Edition with Notes on Steibelt's Life and Operas (diss., Eastman School of Music, 1976)

A. Devriès and F. Lesure: Dictionnaire des éditeurs de musique française (Geneva, 1979)

B.V. Daniels: ‘Cicéri and Daguerre: Set Designers for the Paris Opéra, 1820–1822’, Theater Survey, xxii (1981), 69–90

J. Warrack, ed.: Carl Maria von Weber: Writings on Music (Cambridge, 1981) [incl. reviews of Isouard's operas]

C.J. Robison: One-act Opéra-Comique from 1800 to 1810: Contributions of Henri-Montan Berton and Nicolo Isouard (diss., U. of Cincinnati, 1986)

J. Azzopardi: Nicolò Isouard de Malte (Mdina, 1991)

R. Legrand and P. Taïeb: ‘L'Opéra-comique sous le Consulat et l'Empire’, Le théâtre lyrique en France au XIXe siècle, ed. P. Prévost (Metz, 1995)

Isoz [d’Isoz], Kálmán

(b Budapest, 7 Dec 1878; d Budapest, 6 June 1956). Hungarian musicologist of French descent. After qualifying at the Budapest School of Commerce (1895) he became a bank clerk and started studying music seriously, learning the piano and theory at the Budapest Conservatory (1895–9) and the flute privately. He joined the staff of the Hungarian National Museum (1897), of which he subsequently became general secretary (1920–24), and in 1908 began a course (interrupted by war service, 1914–18) at the arts faculty of Budapest University, where he took the doctorate in 1921 with a dissertation on the notation of the Pray Manuscript. Having served for ten years as principal librarian of the Széchényi Library (1924–34), where he organized the music department, he became secretary of the Hungarian Royal Academy of Music (1934–43) and co-editor, with Bartha, of Musicologia Hungarica. In 1928 he organized the Hungarian section of the International Music Exhibition at Frankfurt, and in 1936 lectured at the Bayreuth Liszt Festival.

Isoz was one of the leading Hungarian musicologists of the early 20th century, producing invaluable studies of early 19th-century Hungarian music and musicians, musical life in Hungarian cities, the history of Hungarian music publishing and instrument making, and of Liszt’s associations with Hungary. As a librarian he established modern methods of music bibliography in Hungary; he also contributed extensively to periodicals and newspapers, and to the Zenei lexikon.

WRITINGS

with I. Mészáros: A Filharmóniai társaság múltja és jelene, 1853–1903 [The Philharmonic Society past and present] (Budapest, 1903; Fr. trans., 1903)

Arnold György (Budapest, 1908)

‘Erkel és a szimfónikus zene’ [Erkel and symphonic music], ‘Erkel emlékek és levelezéz’ [Erkel documents and correspondence], Erkel Ferenc emlékkönyv, ed. B. Fabó (Budapest, 1910), 125–56, 157–72

Erkel Ferenc (Budapest, 1910)

Doppler Ferenc levelei Erkelhez [Letters from Doppler to Erkel] (Budapest, 1911)

‘Lettres inédites ou peu connues de Francis Liszt’, BSIM, vii/7 (1911), 11–34

Latin zenei paleográfia és a Pray-kódex zenei hangjelzései [Latin musical palaeography and the musical notation of the Pray Manuscript] (diss., U. of Budapest, 1921; Budapest, 1922)

‘Le manuscrit original du “Rákóczy” de Berlioz’, Revue des études hongroises et finno-ougriennes, ii (1924), 5–17

Buda és Pest zenei művelődése, i: 1686–1873 [The musical culture of Buda and Pest] (Budapest, 1926)

Magyar zenemüvek könyvészete: Petőfi dalok [Hungarian bibliography of music: Petőfi songs] (Budapest, 1931)

A Pest-Budai Hangászegyesület és nyilvános hangversenyei, 1836–1851 [The musical society of Pest-Buda and its public concerts, 1836–1851] (Budapest, 1934)

Erkel Ferenc ‘Bátori Máriá’-ja (Budapest, 1944)

JOHN S. WEISSMANN

Israel.

Country in the Middle East. The history of the Jewish people was dominated by the traumatic destruction of the Second Temple (70 ce) and the dispersal of the majority of Jews in the Diaspora. Longing for a return to the Holy Land became a basic tenet in Jewish faith. Religious devotion, persecutions and the emergence of a Jewish national movement in the late 19th century triggered successive immigration waves of Jews to Palestine, beginning in 1880. The Jewish community of Palestine, referred to as the Yishuv (‘Settlement’), was culturally autonomous both under Ottoman rule (until 1918) and under the British mandate until the foundation of the independent state of Israel in 1948.

Israeli society has always been dominated by the ideological call to return to the Eastern biblical roots of the nation and to act as a melting pot, contrasted with internal pressures to preserve the heritage of the diverse Jewish ethnic groups, including the performance and study of classical Western repertory. Music played a role in bringing people together, whether for active participation in choirs, bands and folk singing, or as concert audiences. The deliberate revival of Hebrew as a modern language of communication was their most powerful unifying tool, and vocal music was encouraged as a potent device for disseminating the use and the correct accent of the language among immigrants. Lacking a common tradition of folksong, amateur and professional composers turned to inventing a new tradition of Hebrew songs in the hope of their dissemination among the people. Jewish communities of ancient Sephardi, or Middle Eastern, descent comprised expanded families that settled together, leading a mutually supporting cultural and religious life around their synagogue, with daily services and family events providing ample opportunities for music-making. By contrast, most European, or Ashkenazi, Jews immigrated as individuals or in nuclear families, and socialized through the Western institutional model of public concerts. Processes of acculturation ranged from complete compartmentalization to syntheses of traditions.

I. Art music

III. Arab music

JEHOASH HIRSHBERG (I), NATAN SHAHAR (II, 1, 2(i)), EDWIN SEROUSSI (II, 2(ii)), AMNON SHILOAH (III)

Israel

I. Art music

1. Before 1948.

2. East–West encounters.

3. Since 1948.

1. Before 1948.

(i) 1880–1918.

The number of Jews in Palestine under the Ottomans grew from 8000 in 1839 to 80,000 on the eve of World War I. A small, strictly religious community, known as the ‘Old Yishuv’, settled in the ‘holy towns’ of Safed, Tiberias, Jerusalem and Hebron. The first waves of religious immigration of Jews from the Yemen, and of nationally motivated immigration from Europe, mostly from Russia, arrived in the 1880s. Musical activity started with the first amateur communal orchestra in the settlement of Rishon Le-tsiyon (leZion; 1895), soon emulated in most other settlements as well as in Jerusalem and Jaffa under the auspices of Agudat Kinnor Tsiyon (‘The Violin of Zion Society’). Their repertory consisted of light classics, marches and arrangements of Jewish folksongs. The Jews became the largest ethnic group in cosmopolitan Jerusalem, where limited musical activity was conducted within small cultural enclaves such as the private homes of diplomats or among such religious groups as the Templars.

In January 1907 the cantor and scholar A.Z. Idelsohn (1882–1938) settled in Jerusalem and conducted pioneering ethnomusicological research among the numerous local Jewish ethnic groups there, using a cylinder phonograph. His goal was to define the common elements of Jewish liturgy that might reveal the heritage of the Temple. His study of the Yemenites culminated in the first volume of his Thesaurus (1914). He was also active as a teacher and choral conductor.

Tel-Aviv was founded in 1910 as the Jewish suburb of Jaffa, and in the same year the singer Shulamit (Selma) Ruppin (1873–1912) founded the first music school in the country. Basing its curriculum on that of the traditional German conservatory, it served as a model for other music schools, with violin, piano and voice classes, a student orchestra and choir and ear training classes. World War I had disastrous consequences for the small Jewish community, and musical life was halted.

(ii) 1919–30.

With the establishment of British rule, Jewish immigration resumed, mostly from Russia and Poland. Tel-Aviv became a vibrant urban cultural centre, with fine professional musicians settling in the country. But many imaginative initiatives soon ran aground because of the unstable economy. The conductor Mark Golinkin (1875–1963) initiated in 1923 the Palestine Opera, which performed operas by Verdi, Rossini, Meyerbeer, Anton Rubinstein and others in Hebrew translation, strongly supported by the literary Jewish élite. With fine singers but a deficient orchestra, the Opera performed for capacity audiences in dreary cinemas; lack of funds forced its closure in 1927. In 1925 the conductor Max Lampel had started a short-lived monthly series of outdoor symphonic concerts.

In 1924 Joel Engel (1868–1927), who had founded a Society for Jewish Folk Music in St Petersburg in 1908, made Tel-Aviv the centre of his Niggun society, active mostly in the low-cost publication of hundreds of arrangements of Jewish folksongs from eastern Europe. Music societies in Tel-Aviv and Jerusalem cultivated small audiences for chamber music. The Jerusalem Musical Society, founded in 1921 by the British-born cellist Thelma Yellin and her violinist sister Margery, formed the first professional string quartet in the country and sponsored high-standard chamber concerts in Jerusalem for 15 years. Music critics, especially David Rosolio and Menashe Ravina, published detailed reviews in the daily press, insisting on high standards of performance. The European Classical-Romantic canon soon came to dominate concert programmes, delegating the light classics to a secondary position.

Composition was concentrated on the invented folksong, with new art music limited to a handful of works, notably the first Hebrew folk opera, The Pioneers (1924) by Jacob Weinberg (1870–1958). The dominating spirit of socialism spearheaded by the idealistic kibbutz (communal village) movement and the idealization of agricultural pioneer work were the backdrop for the Institute for the Promotion of Music among the People, which sponsored lectures, workers' choruses and courses for choral conductors all over the country. The economic depression of the late 1920s and the deterioration of Arab-Jewish relations in 1929 dealt a heavy blow to these frail initiatives.

(iii) 1931–48.

The rise to power of Nazi and fascist regimes in Europe provoked a large wave of immigration from Europe. The Jewish population more than doubled, to 445,000, with well trained and musically committed immigrants from central Europe immediately taking the lead in musical life, both as professional musicians and as a highly discerning and demanding audience. In October 1933 the violinist Emil Hauser, former first violinist of the Budapest Quartet, settled in Palestine and founded the Palestine Conservatory, which again emulated the German model, with a staff of 33 teachers of most instruments, as well as classes in theory, music history, composition and music education. In March 1936 the British administration established the Palestine Broadcast Service (PBS), transmitting on one channel and shifting daily from Arabic to Hebrew and then to English programmes. The small and under-funded music department was run by British and Jewish musicians, with relatively large slots for live music from the studio. The studio ensemble soon expanded into the radio orchestra and stressed performances of Jewish and locally written new compositions.

The major event of the 1930s was the founding of the Palestine Orchestra. Conceived by the violinist Bronisław Huberman (1882–1947) as a visionary, multi-faceted musical centre situated in the fresh East in response to what he had regarded as the decline of the West, it soon turned into a salvage operation for the finest Jewish musicians who had lost their positions in some of the best orchestras of central Europe. Huberman supervised and financed most of the operation. Inaugurated in December 1936 as a powerful anti-Nazi protest under Toscanini, the Palestine Orchestra maintained high standards from its inception, performing with the finest international conductors and soloists for capacity subscription audiences. Members of the orchestra formed chamber ensembles, such as the Israeli Quartet, that preserved the central European chamber-music tradition with regular series in intimate halls, such as the old Tel-Aviv Museum. The founding of the orchestra completed the stratification of musical life in the Yishuv.

More than 40 well trained composers came to Palestine during this period. They had not known each other before immigration, and did not constitute any cohesive school. Foremost were Stefan Wolpe (1902–72), Paul Ben Haim (1897–1984), Erich Walter Sternberg (1891–1974), Josef Tal (b 1910) and Marc Lavry (1903–67), all trained in Germany, and A.U. Boskovitch (1907–64) and Verdina Shlonsky (1905–90), who had received most of their training in Paris. Menahem Avidom (1908–95) and Mordecai Seter (1916–94) came to Palestine at a young age, but received their advanced training in Paris. Slightly younger composers, such as Haim (Heinz) Alexander (b 1915), halted their studies in Germany and completed them in Palestine. The Palestine Orchestra provided an incentive for symphonic works, such as Lavry's Emek (1936), eulogizing the pioneers through the insertion of the horah folkdance into a symphonic poem, or Sternberg's large-scale Twelve Tribes of Israel (1938), in which he transplanted the high pathos of the late Romantic German style to express his identification with Jewish history. Other important compositions were Ben Haim's Variations on a Hebrew Tune (1938), based on the Arab melody that had been turned into the folksong My Motherland, the Land of Cana‘an, and Wolpe's Dance in a Form of a Chaconne (1938), which boldly combines horah rhythms with a strict chaconne pattern and atonal harmony.

The bold and innovative Wolpe felt alienated in the traditionally inclined local musical community and emigrated to the USA in 1938, but all the other composer immigrants overcame the resettlement trauma and stayed. In 1938 Sally Levi, a dentist and amateur composer, initiated the World Centre for Jewish Music, which started a huge network of correspondence with Jewish musicians, published a single issue of Musica hebraica, and sponsored performances, most notably of Bloch's Sacred Service, until the outbreak of World War II stopped its activities. The intense compositional activity led to the creation of ACUM, the performing rights society, founded in 1936 and officially registered in 1940. The Academy of Music in Tel-Aviv opened in 1944.

During World War II the country was nearly cut off from the outside world, but concert life continued, with local musicians substituting for international conductors and soloists, and with the composition and performance of such key works as Ben Haim's First Symphony (1940), Mordecai Seter's cantata Sabbath (1940), Boskovitch's Oboe Concerto (1943) and Semitic Suite (1945), and Lavry's opera Dan the Guard (1945). Founded by the American singer Addis de Philip in 1948, Israeli opera survived for 30 years, marred by chronic economic and personal difficulties.

2. East–West encounters.

An East–West dichotomy dominated many aspects of musical life. National ideology demanded rejection of the European Diaspora and called for the revival of the ancient roots of the Jews in the East. However, there were few who insisted on a total rejection of the Western musical heritage; the chief argument was between those searching for a West–East synthesis and those upholding the value of individual freedom of expression. Idelsohn's bold endeavour triggered respect and even a romanticization of ethnic traditions, especially that of the Yemenite Jews, among Western musicians. But the lack of training in ethnic interaction, and the economic pressures on the immigrant musicians to make ends meet, hindered most attempts to reach out to the East, and left the core of the problem – the lack of compatibility between the two musical worlds – unresolved. Eastern elements in most early compositions were transplants of Russian orientalism or French exoticism.

Deliberate East–West contacts started in the 1930s almost simultaneously from both directions. A few fine musicians of Middle Eastern origins brought ethnic Jewish and Arab traditions to Western audiences through concerts and radio programmes. The Yemenite singer Brakha Tsefira (Bracha Zefira; 1910–90), raised as an orphan by foster families of different Eastern ethnic groups, from whom she absorbed diverse oral traditions, started an international career in 1930 with the improvising pianist Nahum Nardi, while collecting by memory further traditional songs. In 1939 she turned to most of the immigrant composers and commissioned arrangements, which she performed with members of the Palestine Orchestra on European instruments, as well as with piano, disregarding intonational clashes. The Iraqi-born 'ud player and composer Ezra Aharon (1903–95) was a member of the Iraqi Royal Band. In 1932 he participated in the Cairo conference of Arab music, where he met the ethnomusicologist Robert Lachmann (1892–1939); they continued to collaborate after their settlement in Palestine. Aharon was head of the Arab music ensemble of the PBS, and he also experimented in playing with members of the radio orchestra. The Yemenite Sarah Levi-Tanai was a singer, composer and choreographer who brought Yemenite traditions to the stage, culminating in her dance work ‘Inbal (1948).

The gap left by Idelsohn's emigration was filled by Lachmann, who conducted an intensive recording and research project, continued and much expanded after his early death by the ethnomusicologist Edith Gerson-Kiwi (1908–92).

The composer A.U. Boskovitch presented a well articulated ideology based on the dialectics of time and place. He regarded the Israeli composer as a representative of the collective, one who should strive for a new national style based on what he called ‘static’ and ‘dynamic’ landscapes, referring to the vocal rhetoric of Sephardi Hebrew and of Arabic. Stressing the regional culture rather than Jewish heritage, he expressed his ideology in the second movement of his Oboe Concerto (1943), in which the oboe emulates the sound of the zurna in improvisatory melismas over a three-note string ostinato, and in the Semitic Suite (1945), where he imitates the sound and melody of an Arab takht.

3. Since 1948.

(i) Ensembles and venues.

The young state of Israel acknowledged the role of music as a powerful social, educational and promotional tool, and the Ministry of Education appointed a High Music Council (later the music wing of the Public Council for Culture and the Arts). The Palestine Orchestra, renamed the Israel PO, was sent on frequent concert tours of Europe and the USA, and fine recitalists were dispatched as cultural ambassadors. The first Israel Prize for composition was granted in 1954. The government sponsored large-scale international events, such as the International Harp Contest (from 1960) and the annual Israel Festival (from 1961). The newly built Jerusalem Congress Centre (1953) and Frederic Mann Auditorium (1957) provided spacious concert venues.

Increased immigration to Israel in the 1950s further diversified its culture, with massive waves of Bulgarian Jewry and entire communities from Yemen and North Africa. Urban growth encouraged new performing groups, such as the Haifa and Be’er-Sheba‘ orchestras, the Rinat (Israel National Choir) and the Israel Chamber Orchestra. The immigration of musicians from the Soviet Union in the early 1970s led to the expansion of the small radio orchestra into the Jerusalem SO (1972), housed at the new performing arts centre of the Jerusalem Theatre.

The New Israeli Opera opened in Tel-Aviv in 1985, performing in the original language with Hebrew surtitles; the Tel-Aviv Opera House opened in 1994. Further huge immigration from the Soviet Union (1989–94) trebled the number of musicians in Israel and encouraged the founding of new orchestras, such as the chamber string orchestra Rehovot Camerata (in Jerusalem since 1996) and Rishon Le-tsiyon SO, which has functioned also as the opera orchestra. The Musica Nova and Caprisma ensembles have specialized in contemporary repertory, and the early music movement found fertile soil.

Chamber music has continued to attract audiences, with regular series held at the Israel Museum, Tel-Aviv Art Museum, Tel-Aviv Conservatory, etc. Ensembles such as the Israel and Tel-Aviv string quartets, Yuval Trio, Israel Wind Quintet and Be’er-Sheba‘ Piano Duo have survived for more than two decades.

(ii) Composition.

Tension between individualism and ideological collectivism increased when a new generation of composers (such as Yehezkiel Braun, Ben-Zion Orgad, Tzui Avni, Noam Sheriff, Ami Ma‘yani), born in the 1920s and 30s joined the founders of Israeli music. Most of them composed with a personal commitment and under external pressure to find a new national style. At the same time they were exposed to and attracted by new developments in the West after 1950. No consensus nor a national Israeli school ever emerged, and the search only increased pluralism and polemics. Of special significance was the use of the sound and rhythm of the Hebrew language, whether biblical or modern, in vocal music. Contrasting techniques were at times juxtaposed within a single composition. For example, Josef Tal quoted a simple folktune by Yehudah Sharett as an ostinato bass under atonal progressions in his Piano Sonata. Oedoen Partos quoted two Yemenite melodies, altering their structural 5ths into Bartókian tritones, in Visions. Tzui Avni integrated passages of declamatory heterophony into rich and dissonant orchestral harmony in Meditations on a Drama. Composers frequently alternated techniques according to context and genre: Haim Alexander, for example, used serialism in his Patterns but folk-like modality in his Nature Songs. New immigrant composers who came at the prime of their creative power went through profound artistic transformations. Mark Kopytman, who arrived in 1972 from the Soviet Union, integrated a traditional Yemenite song as sung on stage by the Yemenite folk singer Gila Bashari into dense heterophony in his Memory. In the 1970s the melting-pot ideology disintegrated and postmodern pluralism gained the upper hand. Third- and fourth-generation composers entered the stage, further expanding the stylistic diversity of Israeli music from the iconoclasm of Aric Shapiro to Haim Permont's and Michael Wolpe's nostalgic mementoes of Yishuv times.

(iii) Instruction, research and publication.

The Hebrew University, founded in 1925, became involved in music in 1933. The University National Library is the main repository of manuscripts and prints of Jewish and Israeli music. The Sound Archives house numerous field recordings. The Jewish Music Research Centre has initiated projects such as the RISM catalogues and the periodical Yuval.

The first department of musicology was founded at the Hebrew University in 1965, followed by Tel-Aviv University (1966) and Bar-Ilan University (1969). Their varied research fields and curricula include the theory and history of European music, Jewish music, world music and ethnomusicology in its broadest sense. The laboratory of musicological research at the Hebrew University was among the pioneers in the development of the melograph.

Instruction in performance and composition has been provided by the Rubin Academies in Jerusalem and Tel-Aviv, the latter incorporated into Tel-Aviv University. The Jerusalem Music Centre, founded in 1971, sponsors master classes by distinguished international teachers, as well as specialized concerts and symposia. Until the 1980s institutional instrumental instruction involved European instruments only, with the exception of Erza Aharon's limited activity at the Jerusalem Conservatory. The Hebrew University initiated a workshop in the performing practice of Arab and Javanese music, having acquired a full gamelan. Instrumental instruction in Classical Arab music started in 1996 at the Rubin Academy in Jerusalem and at a school for Eastern music sponsored by Jerusalem City Council.

In 1951 Peter Gradenwitz founded Israeli Music Publications, and in 1961 the Culture and Arts Council founded the Israeli Music Institute as a publicly sponsored publishing house for Israeli music. The Israeli Composers League, founded in 1953, established in 1993 its own publishing house, the Israeli Music Centre.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

A.Z. Idelsohn: Gesänge der jemenischen Juden (Leipzig, 1914)

Musica Hebraica, i–ii (Jerusalem, 1938)

M. Bentwich: Thelma Yellin, Pioneer Musician (Jerusalem, 1964)

I. Ibbeken and Z. Avni, eds.: An Orchestra is Born (Tel-Aviv, 1969)

M. Brod and Y.W. Cohen: Die Music Israels (Kassel, 1976)

A. Shiloah and E. Cohen: ‘The Dynamics of Change in Jewish Oriental Ethnic Music in Israel’, EthM, xxvii (1983), 227–52

I. Adler, B. Bayer and E. Schleifer, eds.: The Abraham Zvi Idelsohn Memorial Volume (Jerusalem, 1986) [with Eng. summaries]

J. Hirshberg: ‘Tel-Aviv: Israel Philharmonic Orchestra’, Symphony Orchestras of the World, ed. R.R. Craven (New York, 1987), 202–7

A. Tischler: A Descriptive Bibliography of Art Music by Israeli Composers (Warren, MI, 1989)

P.V. Bohlman: The Land where Two Streams Flow: Music in the German-Jewish Community of Israel (Urbana, IL, 1989)

J. Hirshberg: Paul Ben-Haim: his Life and Works (Jerusalem, 1990)

A. Shiloah: Jewish Musical Traditions (Detroit, 1992)

P.V. Bohlman: The World Centre for Jewish Music in Palestine, 1936–1940: Jewish Musical Life on the Eve of World War II (Oxford, 1992)

J. Hirshberg: Music in the Jewish Community of Palestine 1880–1948: a Social History (Oxford, 1995)

R. Fleisher: Twenty Israeli Composers: Voices of a Culture (Detroit, 1997)

Israel

II. Folk and popular music

1. Before 1948.

2. After 1948.

Israel, §II: Folk and popular music

1. Before 1948.

An area of musical creativity originating in Erets-Israel (‘land of Israel’) was Erets-Israeli song, which consists of Hebrew texts set to music with a monophonic texture, usually by identifiable Erets-Israeli composers during the period 1882–1948. Erets-Israeli songs developed alongside other Hebrew songs sung in Erets-Israel up to 1948.

The origins of Hebrew songs coincide with the revival of Hebrew culture in Europe and the beginning of the Zionist movement in the latter half of the 19th century. The Hebrew cultural revival included literature and poetry, just as the Zionist movement brought with it waves of immigration to Erets-Israel.

(i) Era of the First Immigration (1882–1903).

The majority of songs in Erets-Israel during the era of the first immigration were brought by immigrants. Songs typically expressed a longing for Erets-Israel along with the hope for rebirth in the homeland. Many of the song lyrics were written in Hebrew by poets who were part of the Hibat Sion (love of Zion) and Hathiyah (revival) movements, but who, for the most part, had never visited Erets-Israel. The majority of song melodies were borrowed from Hasidic and Yiddish sources, and from Russian, Romanian and Polish folk and popular songs.

Most melodies were in minor keys and in duple metre, at times in slow march-like tempos, with typical Hebrew syllabic emphasis on the penultimate syllable. These songs are also referred to as Hibat Tzion, among them Hatiqvah, a song that became the anthem for the Zionist movement, later becoming the Israeli national anthem.

(ii) Eras of the Second and Third Immigrations (1904–14, 1919–23).

Four distinct song types characterize these eras. First, Hibat Tzion songs continued from the previous era, becoming part of the second immigration's repertory. The second category includes songs composed within Erets-Israeli educational institutions. With the establishment of educational institutions in cities and villages and the inclusion of songs in school music curricula, the need for suitable materials became evident. Until this time appropriate pre-school and school songs were almost non-existent, resulting in new musical materials, primarily songs, composed by some of the music teachers. Teacher-composers such as Karchewsky (1873–1926) and Idelsohn (1882–1938) began their activities in the 1910s, and thus were the first Erets-Israeli composers. The third category includes songs with Arab melodies that were widespread in Erets-Israel to which Hebrew texts were fitted, e.g. Hachmisimi, Bein Nehar Prat, Yad ‘Anugah and Ani Re'itiha. These were usually love songs characterized by use of the interval of a 2nd (often an augmented 2nd), slow tempos and rubato. The wide circulation of these songs indicates an integration with a widespread native Eastern culture. The fourth category includes songs with melodies originating in Eastern European Hasidic culture. Such texts include short verses from the Bible or from prayer books. These songs include melodic redundancy, repetition of lyrics, binary structures, ranges of one octave and duple metre. El Yivneh Ha-miqdash, Vetaher Libeinu, El Yivneh Ha-galil and Zivhu Sedeq are examples of songs that also made up the principal component of horah dances. The rise of communal singing and horah dancing became distinguishing characteristics of the Erets-Israeli settlement.

(iii) Eras of the Fourth and Fifth Immigrations (1924–48).

The 1920s was a period of dramatic change for Erets-Israeli song. Composers such as Hanina Karchewsky, Abraham Zvi Idelsohn and Yoel Engel (1868–1927) were ending their active periods, while others, such as Yedidiah Admon (1894–1985), Nahum Nardi (1901–77), Shalom Postolsky (1898-1949), Menashe Ravina (1888–1968), Mattityahu Shelem (1904–75), Mordecai Zeira (1905–68), among others, were beginning careers. Several composers lacked basic formal music education, while others did not know or use musical notation. Their songs were intrinsically different from those of their predecessors; for example, syllabic emphasis, moved to the last syllable of words, brought about changes in musical rhythm. In these and in subsequent years, subjects of songs composed and sung in Erets-Israel concerned work and the homeland, the landscapes of Galilee and the Izrael Valley, construction and creation. Song lyrics written by the best Erets-Israeli poets often used third-person plural verbs to express a national, collective ‘I’.

Many songs later included in the Hebrew song repertory are by identifiable composers who considered their efforts as contributing to the building of a renewed Hebrew culture. As a nation of immigrants, Erets-Israel lacked a long-standing tradition of folksong. The goal of the national movement included a rapid realization of folksong in the revived Hebrew language, and composers wrote hoping to achieve a wide circulation. In their search for musical roots, many composers of Erets-Israeli song adopted the Dorian mode to evoke an older style. The Yemenite trill was also used, as was rhythmic syncopation.

Many country, shepherd, ceremonial, children's and holiday songs were composed in the 1930s and 40s. Eastern influences existed in songs from Eastern composers such as Sarah Levi, Nissan Cohen Melamed and others, or by means of environmental influences on composers such as Yedidiah Admon, Nahum Nardi, Emanuel Amiran and others. Internal and external political events transformed Erets-Israeli song at that time; Arab-Jewish conflicts highlighted ‘Watchmen's Songs’ and ‘Defenders' Songs’. Attempts to create a rural culture encouraged compositions from working settlements, particularly those composers from the Kibbutz movement such as David Zehavi, Mattityahu Shelem, Jehuda Sharet and others. The encouragement for young Israelis to enlist in the British army during World War II inspired Hebrew ‘Army Songs’ composed by Mordecai Zeira, Daniel Sambursky and others. The Holocaust brought the influence of Yiddish village songs, along with political and propagandist Russian tunes.

The War of Independence and the establishment of the State of Israel brought about the conclusion of the era of Erets-Israel. Approximately 4600 Hebrew songs were circulated and sung during this epoch and of these approximately 57% could be considered Eretz-Israeli.

Israel, §II: Folk and popular music

2. After 1948.

(i) Folk music.

Diverse Israeli songs were discernible immediately following statehood, a direct continuation of Eretz-Israeli song. Mourning and bereavement songs, memorials to the Independence War and victory songs were heard along with songs influenced by foreign dances (tango, rumba, paso doble and mamba), and songs, both new and translated, that were products of festivals of European and American popular songs.

Composers continued writing in the period after statehood, and in the 1950s a ‘country song’ or ‘shepherd song’ style emerged that was a continuation of the ‘rural country’ style of the 1940s. Texts drew on pastoral and rural settings, florid language and cries of ‘hey’ and ‘ho’. Melodies were in minor scales and modes with relatively simple structures. Accompanying instruments included the acoustic guitar, which often dictated harmonic accompaniment, accordion and the Arab clay drum. Special dances developed at this time, known as ‘folkdances’.

Representative composers of this period include Emanuel Zamir (1925–62), Gill Aldemah (b 1928), Amitai Ne’eman (b 1926) and Josef Hadar (b 1926), who formed the first generation born in Israel (most were accordion players). Lahaqat Ha-nahal, the first military performing troupe, was created in 1951 for the Israeli army to entertain soldiers with skits and songs portraying Israeli army life. The international recognition of Tsahal (lsraeli army), raised the status of military performing troupes and thus of Israeli song. A large repertory of songs was created by military troupes, who were awarded top honours in song festivals. These troupes performed extensively, providing venues for many who would later become leading artists, composers, arrangers and directors.

Materials for the troupes were commissioned from the best Israeli composers, among them Alexander Argov (1914–96) and Moshe Velensky (1910–97), who were also prolific Erets-Israeli composers. Other Israeli composers who wrote for the troupes include Nurit Hirsh (b 1942), Matti Kaspi (b 1949), Aryeh Lavnon (b 1932), Yair Rosenblum (1944–96), Naomi Shemer (b 1930), Yohanan Zarai (b 1930) and Dov Zeltzer (b 1932). A significant number of Israeli composers took advantage of writing for military troupes.

A transformation of Israeli song took place in the latter half of the 1960s. The accordion was replaced by the electric organ, the Arab clay drum was replaced by a drum set, and electric and bass guitars were added. This transformation stimulated the rise of ‘beat’ and rock groups in peripheral areas. The band, Hahalonot Hagvohim, heralded the introduction of rock-styled Israeli song. Many performers, among them duos (Ran and Nama, Ilka and Aviva, Ha-dudaim, Ha-parvarim), trios (Shloshet Ha-metarim, Gesher Ha-yarqon), and troupes (Batsal Yarok, Ha-tarnegolim) in addition to hundreds of singers, enriched the Israeli song repertory.

The Six-Day War represented a watershed for Israeli song, flooding the country with ‘homeland’ songs resembling Eretz-Israeli homeland songs. Together with ‘countryside’ songs, homeland songs were integrated into the nostalgia that inundated Israel in the 1960s. The blend of old and new homeland songs formed a current of Israeli music that is referred to as ‘Songs of Erets-Israel’. Naomi Shemer (b 1930), composer of the song Yerushalayim Shel Zahav (Jerusalem of Gold), became symbolic of this era.

Television broadcasting began in 1967 in Israel, providing venues and wide exposure for performers. In this era, a number of songwriters also doubled as performers. Shalom Hanoch, Samuel Kraus, Matti Kaspi, Yehudith Ravitz, Schlomo Gronic are composer-singers who were active as independent soloists, while others worked in groups, duos or ensembles (Ha-lul, Ha-churchelim, Ha-keves Ha-shishaasar). The talents of Arik Einstein over the course of 30 years stimulated composers such as Shalom Hanoch (b 1946), Micky Gavrielov (b 1949), Yoni Rechter (b 1951) and others. The group, Kaveret, made its first appearance at the beginning of the 1970s, and despite their brief period of activity, introduced a new sound to Israeli song. A new Hasidic song style developed after the Six-Day War, influenced by annual festivals of Hasidic songs taking place as early as 1969. Hasidic songs employ biblical and prayer book texts, mostly repeated verses with tunes mostly in minor keys, intermediate ranges (an octave to a 10th), simple structure, regular rhythm and basic harmonic progressions (I–IV–V).

The influences of Eastern Jewish communities were felt before the establishment of the State of Israel, owing to the presence of Yemenite and Arab songs. After the Six-Day War, especially since the 1980s, ethnic consciousness grew, and Eastern styles became an important marker, known as the Eastern Mediterranean style. This style includes the use of melisma, the augmented 2nd and melodic ornamentation with the range of quarter- and half-tones. Instrumentation generally consists of electronic instruments, electric and bass guitars and drum sets, and is expanded at times to include, the ‘ūd, qanūn, and darbouka. Among composers associated with this style are Avihu Medina (b 1948), Boaz Sharabi, Shlomo Bar and others.

In the first half of the 1990s, singer-composers who performed their songs with their ensembles gained prominence, such as Yuval Banai with the group Meshina, Arkadi Dukhin with Ha-haverim Shel Natasha, Aviv Gefen (b 1971) with Ha-ta‘uyot, Rami Kleinstein (b 1963) with Hmo'etza, Shlomo Arzi (b 1949), Yehuda Poliker and many others.

(ii) Popular music.

The first signs of a popular music industry are found in the mid-1930s with the setting up of a record company and a radio station. Professional immigrant musicians from Germany and Poland opened venues for music theatre and cabaret in the growing cities of Haifa and Tel Aviv, where contemporary European songs were sung with Hebrew texts. The diversity of styles can be heard on the 1933 recordings Mi-shirei erets Yisra’el (‘Songs from the land of Israel’).

Although these musics continued to be performed after the state of Israel had been established, up until the 1970s popular music was dominated by state-controlled cultural policies and mass media. The Israel Defence Forces (IDF) entertainment groups (lehakot tsva’iyot) were characteristic of this period. They performed songs which combined ‘native’ elements with international popular styles, were arranged as group songs with short solo sections and were initially accompanied by accordion and derbuka (drum). These songs attained wide popularity and were disseminated on LPs and by radio. By the 1970s the distinction between military and civilian artists had become blurred and IDF artists became major stars.

Other songs of this period included the pizmonim or shirei meshorerim (‘songs of the poets’) performed by duos or trios, such as Duda'im, Parvarim and Shlishiyat Gesher Ha-yarqon, and were accompanied by acoustic guitar. Unlike previous genres, these songs stressed individual, urban experiences rather than collective or national topics. During the 1950s popular musics emerged based on Iraqi and Egyptian urban styles. These were performed in bars and at parties by Jewish immigrants from Arab countries. Greek popular songs, performed in Hebrew, became popular during the 1960s, and these and songs derived from Arab styles were perceived as oppositional to musics sanctioned by the cultural establishment.

From the 1970s onwards Israeli popular musics have diversified and have been increasingly influenced by Anglo-American styles, particularly rock. Contemporary popular styles may be divided into four categories. Firstly, pop and rock of foreign origin, particularly from the UK and USA. Secondly, shirei erets Yisra’el, which includes ‘folk’ songs, IDF ensemble songs and popular songs in a folk spirit, particularly those composed by N. Shemer. Thirdly, Hebrew songs in Western popular styles such as disco, rap and middle-of-the-road. Israeli rock was started by a group of artists including Arik Einstein, Shalom Hanokh and Shmulik Kraus, who were influenced by the Beatles. The most influential Israeli rock band continues to be Lahaqat Kaveret (‘The beehive band’) who performed in 1971–3. Many Hebrew pop songs are influenced by Europop and Israel has twice won the Eurovision Song Contest. Fourthly, musiqah mizrahit (‘eastern music’) developed in the early 1970s which combines Greek, Turkish, Arab and Yemenite-Jewish styles and instruments with Western popular forms. Associated with the working class it achieves huge sales and has had a lasting appeal to a wide audience.

Israel, §II: Folk and popular music

BIBLIOGRAPHY

A. Shiloah and E. Cohen: ‘Major Trends of Change in Jewish Oriental Ethnic Music’, Popular Music, v (1985), 199–223

T. Bensky, J. Braun and U. Sharvit: ‘Towards a Study of Israeli Urban Musical Culture: the Case of Kiryan Ono’, AsM, xvii/2 (1986), 168–209

M. Regev: ‘The Musical Soundscape as a Contest Area: “Oriental Music” and Israeli Popular Music’, Media, Culture and Society, vii (1986), 343–55

J. Halper, E. Seroussi and P. Squires-Kidron: ‘Musica Mizrahit: Ethnicity and Class Culture in Israel’, Popular Music, vii (1989), 131–42

M. Regev: ‘The Field of Popular Music in Israel’, World Music, Politics and Social Change, ed. S. Firth (Manchester, 1989), 145–55

M. Regev: ‘Israeli Rock: or a Study in the Politics of “Local Authenticity”’, Popular Music, xi/1 (1992), 1–14

M. Regev: ‘Musica Mizrahit, Israeli Rock and National Culture in Israel’, Popular Music, xv (1996), 275–84

E. Seroussi: Popular Music in Israel: the First Fifty Years (Cambridge, MA, 1996)

A. Horowitz: ‘Performance in Disputed Territory: Israeli Mediterranean Music’, Musical Performance, i/3 (1997), 43–53

Israel

III. Arab music

Before the creation of the state of Israel (1948), the region was mainly inhabited by Arabs, and various genres of Arab music played an important role in religious and secular ceremonies and everyday life. At the end of Ottoman rule (1517–1917), Muslim and Christian Arabs formed over 90% of the population. The vast majority of these Arabs were Sunni Muslim. From 1948 onwards Jewish interests became dominant.

1. Folk music.

The most authentic and pervasive kind of Arab music in Israel has been the rich folk music practised by Bedouins, farmers and (to a certain extent) town-dwellers. A characteristic repertory of songs and dances separately involving women and men enhance the various events of life in Bedouin encampments as well as in small or large agrarian villages inhabited by Muslims, Druzes, Christians or mixed populations. The literary, performative and musical components of the sequence of traditional and improvised songs marking any given event all depend on talented individuals who are able to combine the gifts of poet, musician and performer. Normally not all villages are fortunate enough to have a poet-musician within their midst, so they have to bring the best known of them from afar. A normal performance requires the participation of two poets who alternate in singing the verses of certain genres. These are mainly improvised, like the popular Middle Eastern four-line stanzas, the ‘ataba, or the argumentative dialogue in sung verses, the huwar. On special festive occasions, four poet-musicians participate.

Most ceremonies are held outdoors and an active audience takes part by uttering responses, hand-clapping and dancing the debka (chain dance). This is accompanied by a flute, urghul or mujwiz (two types of a double clarinet), the main instruments used in the villages.

2. Urban music.

From scattered information provided mainly by European travellers, we know that under Ottoman rule Arab art music was occasionally performed in coffee houses and at weddings in urban centres. In style it was essentially similar to that of Turkish, Lebanese, Syrian and Egyptian music of the period: singer, supported by instrumentalists of the takht ensemble (see Arab music, §I, 6).

From 1920, when Palestine was under British Mandate, Christian churches in Jerusalem, Ramalla and Nazareth stimulated and sponsored musical activities through educational work and events outside the regular church services. The repertory consisted of a mixture of Arab and Western music.

In the city of Haifa, Ibrahim Bathish founded a music club which played an important role in the development of local art music. One of its graduates, Selim Hilou, became a prominent Lebanese composer and singer of the prestigious muwashshah vocal genre. Among his other writings he has devoted an important book to this subject. After the creation of the state of Israel, three Haifa club graduates became central promoters of Arab musical activity in the northern part of the country: Sudki Shukri, Michael Dermalkonian (who also studied Western music) and Hikmat Shaheen. Through music education a number of performing groups gradually emerged, sponsored largely by the establishment.

The traditional transmission of Arab art music is through assimilation, listening to the fundamental aspects of the art as performed by great masters, or through private lessons given by renowned musicians to interested individuals. Alongside this, an official and formal method of teaching came into being with the establishment in 1951 of a programme for training Arab music teachers at the Haifa Conservatory. In 1963 Suheil Radwan, one of the first trainees, became head of the department of Arab music at Haifa.

The Haifa Arab music department fostered a musical renaissance in schools, clubs and cultural and community centres throughout the country, including the establishment of orchestral ensembles and choirs. Most ensembles included Jewish musicians who had migrated to Israel from Iraq, Egypt and Syria. Muslims, Christians and Jewish musicians worked side by side in a musical community which created a bridge of fraternity between Arabs and Jews. The foundation in 1965 of an Arab-Jewish centre, Beit ha-Gefen, in Haifa, was crucial in this process, and musical activities took place there.

In 1957 the Radio Broadcasting Authority founded the first professional orchestral ensemble. Its first director was Ezra Aharon, a famous composer and ‘ūd player originally from Iraq. In the 1932 Cairo International Congress of Arabic Music, he had led the official Iraqi ensemble under the name ‘Azzuri Efendi. Gifted Jewish instrumentalists from Iraq, Egypt and Syria formed the radio ensemble, later joined by two Arab violinists. Arab singers were employed to sing on radio programmes, and by the 1970s Arab singers and composers were participating in annual festivals held by the radio stations of major cities. Folk, art and popular music programmes were regularly shown on the Arab section of Israeli television.

Most recently some small Arab-Jewish groups have been established containing fine bi-musical instrumentalists conversant with Arab, Jewish and Western art music styles. Their repertories include interesting arrangements of traditional Arab and Israeli music. The most famous of these ensembles is the Bustan ensemble, using qānūn, guitar, banjo, ‘ūd, violin, flute, bass and Arab percussion. The group combines an eclectic mixture of musical influences and has gained an international reputation.

See also Palestinian music and Arab music, §II.

Israel Festival.

An annual festival of music, dance and theatre, founded in 1961 by Aharon Z. Propes, director of the Ministry of Tourism, with the intent of making the young state, already renowned for its high musical standards, into an international artistic centre catering to local audiences and attracting summer tourists. The first festival hosted Pablo Casals, the Budapest Quartet and Rudolf Serkin, thus establishing the predilection for Western classical music. In 1962 the festival commissioned Stravinsky's Abraham and Isaac, introduced by the Israel PO under Robert Craft, with Stravinsky himself attending and conducting his Symphony of Psalms. At that time festivals were held in July and August, with performances all over the country, including in the Roman theatre at Caesaria, refurbished for outdoor spectacles such as Samson et Dalila. Israeli premières included that of Schoenberg's Moses und Aron. In 1982 the Ministry of Tourism handed the organization of the festival to a publicly controlled society, Hagigat Israel (Israel Festival), which has frequently cooperated with private entepreneurs. Since then the festival has been situated in Jerusalem and held over a period of three weeks in May–June, with some events repeated in other locations. Most performances are given in the four-auditorium complex of the Jerusalem Theatre; other venues include the Ein Karem Music Centre, Dormition Abbey and the Scottish Church (St Andrew's), and there are also firework displays over the walls of the old city and other free outdoor events. The festival has had no clear artistic policy. Nearly every year a large-scale opera production, such as the Arena di Verona's Aida, is imported as an outdoor spectacle. The festival has regularly responded to salient changes in taste, demonstrated in its sponsorship of performances of Japanese and Indian music (1991), Moroccan trance-art (1994) and concerts given by the Consort of Musicke and Academy of Ancient Music (also 1994). Jazz features on programmes as well. While most events involve international artists, leading Israeli ensembles and soloists regularly take part.

JEHOASH HIRSHBERG

Israeli Music Publications.

Israeli firm of music publishers. It was founded in Tel-Aviv in 1949 by Peter Gradenwitz in association with the Israeli Association of Composers. From 1952 Gradenwitz managed the firm independently as a limited company. It was the first Israeli music publishing house of an international standard, and publishes works by Israeli composers of all schools and styles, as well as works by composers of any nationality that are based on biblical subjects or texts or that have a particular association with Israel or the Near East. The firm has published works written specially for Israel by Schoenberg, Milhaud, Villa-Lobos, Martinů, Martinon, Staempfli, Hovhaness, Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Rathaus and many others. The series Early Hebrew Art Music comprises practical scholarly editions of synagogue music from the 12th to the 19th centuries; other first publications include an Allegro barbaro for piano by Alkan, Beatus vir for soprano and alto soloists, chorus and orchestra by Galuppi, the completion of Schubert’s fragmentary setting of Psalm xiii d663, and music by Joseph Achron. By 1982, when the firm was taken over by a British company and transferred to Jerusalem, the catalogue contained about 600 titles in printed editions and an orchestral lending library. Books published by the firm include biographies of composers under its aegis and theoretical works. It has outlets in most countries in Europe and elsewhere, and played a vital role in establishing the Israeli Music Publishers’ Union, a member of the International Union of Publishers. Under the imprint of Illan Melody Press, the firm issued light music from 1949 to 1982.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

MGG1 (P. Gradenwitz)

P. Gradenwitz: Music and Musicians in Israel (Jerusalem, 1959, 3/1978)

PETER GRADENWITZ

Israel Piano Trio.

Israeli ensemble. It was founded in 1972 by the pianist Alexander Volkov, the violinist Menahem Breuer and the cellist Zvi Harell, who was later replaced by Marcel Bergman. Breuer is the leader of the Israel PO and Bergman is its principal cellist; they and Volkov are also active as soloists. The trio's recordings of the complete piano trios of Brahms, Mendelssohn, Schubert and Schumann have been highly praised. The group's repertory also embraces 20th-century works, some by Israeli composers including Oedoen Partos, Yardena Alotin, Yehezkiel Braun and Ebel Erlich, who dedicated his Piano Trio to the ensemble. The trio performs regularly in international festivals, including Edinburgh and Schleswig-Holstein, and has given many recitals for the BBC. Its members give masterclasses at the RAM, London, the Musikhochschule in Munich and elsewhere.

MICHAL BEN-ZUR

Israel Quartet.

Israeli string quartet. It was founded in 1957 as the New Israel Quartet, to distinguish it from an earllier group known as the Israel Quartet. Its original members were Alexander Tal, Mordecai Yuval, Daniel Benyamini and Yaakov Menze, all of whom played in the Israel PO. During the quartet's subsequent history, the membership changed several times. Zeev Steinberg joined as viola in 1959; during the 1970s Tal was replaced by Ilan Gronich and Gronich by Raphael Markus; and in 1978 the word ‘New’ was dropped from its title. In 1999 the ensemble included Yigal Tuneh, Elikum Salzman, Robert Moses and Alexander Kaganowsky. The Israel Quartet has concentrated mainly on 20th-century music, especially by Israeli composers. It has performed more then 50 Israeli works, most of them in premières, by such composers as Oedoen Partos, Mordecai Seter, Artur Gelbrun, Josef Tal, Zeev Steinberg, Abel Ehrlich, Joachim Stutschewsky and others. It has given many concerts abroad, thereby promoting its particular repertory.

MICHAL BEN-ZUR

Israelyan, Martun

(b Leninakan, [now Kumayrï, 25 March 1938). Armenian composer. He began his studies at the Leninakon (now Gyumri) Music College, where he learnt to play the kyamancha, an Armenian folk instrument. In 1964, he moved to Yerevan where he studied composition with Eghiazarian (1964–9) at the Yerevan Conservatory. He then taught harmony at the Babadjanian Music College (1969–81) before returning to teach orchestration and composition at the conservatory, of which he has been a professor since 1997. He joined the Armenian Composers' Union in 1969, the year in which he received a prize in the All-Union Young Composers' Competition for the orchestral work Music.

His early works – such as Contrasts (1967), Ensemble (1968) and the Septet (1973) – combine the contemplative and expressive qualities of post-Webernian pointillism and often display stereophonic spatial structures. The expressive sonority employed in these works intensified during the mid-1970s and resulted in the unique timbral qualities of the two books of Taghs for voice (1972, 1974) and the First Cello Sonata (1975). These sonic qualities acquire conceptual significance in the Symphony (1981), the final sections of which are characterized by the prolonged diminuendo in the chord sustained by the strings and soloists, leading to a cathartic coda in which a solo soprano line is underpinned by an orchestral pedal. This work signals the end of his first period after which his language becomes more universal; aspects of neo-Baroque, folkloristic, impressionist and academic styles appear in works in the 1980s and 90s.

Highly systemized organization is a constant feature in his language; the serial technique of early works is superseded by one in which diatonic modality is built up from the melodic transformation of a sequence of fifths. Intervallic cells are embodied in material ranging from the smallest motif to highly developed pentatonic and whole-tone systems which frequently share similarities with the modal formulae of medieval Armenian music. Armenian musical traditions have also influenced the dynamism of his rhythmic and formal structures which are largely flexible, aperiodic and asymmetrical. The structural properties of the monodic taghs of the 10th-century poet-musician Grigor Narekatsi are echoed in Israelyan's freely developed single-movement forms. His works have been heard in Argentina, France, Germany, Russia, Scotland and Switzerland and are frequently performed in Armenia.

WORKS

(selective list)

Inst: Sonatina, pf, 1965; Str Qt no.1, 1966; Contrasts, orch, 1967; Ensemble, fl, cl, vn, vc, perc, 1968; Music, orch, 1969; 3 Duets, vc, pf, 1972; Septet, ww, str, pf, 1973; Sonata no.1, vc, pf, 1975; Capriccio, 14 insts, 1982; Conc., chbr orch, 1982; Conc., vc, str orch, 1983; Conc., vn, chbr orch, 1985; Sonata no.2, vc, pf, 1987; Hymns: Fiat lux, 15 insts, 1989; Str Qt no.2, 1990; Sonata no.3, vc, pf, 1994; Hymns II, pf, 1995Vocal: First Bk of Taghs (G. Narekatsi), Mez, fl, cl, perc, 1972; Second Bk of Taghs (M. Metsarents), S, pf, 1974; 3 Sonnets (H. Edoian), S, chbr orch, 1980; Sym. (Metsarents), S, orch, 1981; Evening Songs (Metsarents), S, pf, 1982; Hatsin yerg'e [The Song of Bread] (cant., D. Varuzhan), S, Ten, chorus, orch, 1984; Autumn Songs (V. Terian), S, orch, 1985; Rhythmus (T. Aquinas), S, str orch, 1991

MSS in Armenian Composer's Union

Principal publishers: Sovetakan Grokh, Sovetskiy Kompozitor

BIBLIOGRAPHY

CC1 (S. Sarkisyan)

S. Sarkisyan: ‘Novïye puti kamerno-vokal'nogo zhanra’ [New directions in chamber vocal music], Sovetskaya muzïka na sovremennom etape, ed. G. Golovinsky and N. Shakhnazarova (Moscow, 1981), 257–60

M. Berko: ‘Liricheskiye monologi Martuna Israelyana’, SovM (1985), no.6, pp.11–14

H. Gerlach: ‘Martun Israelyan’, Sowietische Musik im Licht der Perestroika, ed. H. Danuser, H. Gerlach and J. Köchel (Duisburg, 1990), 348–9

SVETLANA SARKISYAN

Issandon, Jean.

See Yssandon, Jean.

Isserlis, Steven (John)

(b London, 19 Dec 1958). English cellist. Grandson of the Russian pianist and composer, Julius Isserlis, he studied with Jane Cowan at the International Cello Centre (1969–76) and Richard Kapuscinski at Oberlin College (1976–8). He made his London début in 1977, and has subsequently performed as a soloist with most of the world's leading orchestras and many period-instrument groups. He is also a noted player of chamber music: he gives regular recitals with Melvyn Tan, and in 1991 formed a trio with Joshua Bell and Olli Mustonen. In 1996 he succeeded Sándor Végh as artistic director of the International Musicians Seminar in Cornwall, where he teaches and gives masterclasses. He has given first performances of works by Robert Saxton, Elizabeth Maconchy, Howard Blake and John Tavener, including The Protecting Veil (1989, London), of which his recording won a Gramophone Award. Among his many other recordings are the concertos by Elgar and Barber, Britten's Cello Symphony and much chamber music. He was presented with the Piatigorsky Artist Award (1992) and the Royal Philharmonic Society's Instrumentalist of the Year Award (1993). Isserlis' sensitive, stylish and passionate playing reflects his highly individual personality.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

M. Campbell: ‘Steven Isserlis: a Profile’, The Strad, xcii (1981–2), 815–18

J. Talbot: ‘Doing his own Thing’, The Strad, cvii (1996), 668–75

MARGARET CAMPBELL

Istanpitta

(It.).

See Estampie.

Istel, Edgar

(b Mainz, 23 Feb 1880; d Miami, 17 Dec 1948). German musicologist and composer. He studied the violin at Mainz but soon turned to composition and became a pupil of Volbach. In 1898 he went to Munich, where he completed his studies under Thuille and Sandberger. He took the doctorate in 1900 with a dissertation on Rousseau's music to Pygmalion and worked as a lecturer, music critic and essayist until 1913. He was then appointed lecturer in aesthetics at the Humboldt Academy, a post he held until 1919, when he took a position at the Lessing-Hochschule; he also worked as music critic for several newspapers. In 1920 he moved to Madrid, where he represented the Verband deutscher Bühnenschriftsteller und Bühnenkomponisten and the Vienna Gesellschaft der Autoren, Komponisten und Musikverleger. In 1936 he emigrated to England and in 1938 to the USA. He established his reputation with his work on the history of opera, especially opera librettos; his book on the libretto is one of the best accounts of the outlines and characteristics of opera texts. His major compositions include five operas, incidental music for Goethe’s Satyros and a Hymn to Zeus for chorus and orchestra; he also wrote several choral works and songs.

WRITINGS

Jean-Jacques Rousseau als Komponist seiner lyrischen Scene ‘Pygmalion’ (diss., U. of Munich, 1900; Leipzig, 1901/R)

Das deutsche Weihnachtsspiel und seine Wiedergeburt aus dem Geiste der Musik (Langensalza, 1901)

Richard Wagner im Lichte eines zeitgenössischen Briefwechsels (Berlin, 1902)

‘E.T.A. Hoffmann als Musikschriftsteller’, NZM, xcix (1903), 569–72, 581–3

ed.: P. Cornelius: Literarische Werke, ii: Aufsätze über Musik und Kunst (Leipzig, 1904/R)

Peter Cornelius (Leipzig, 1906)

Die komische Oper: eine historisch-ästhetische Studie (Stuttgart, 1906)

Die Entstehung des deutschen Melodramas (Berlin, 1906)

ed.: E.T.A. Hoffmanns musikalische Schriften (Stuttgart, 1907)

ed.: C. Ditters von Dittersdorf: Lebensbeschreibung (Leipzig, 1909)

Das Kunstwerk Richard Wagners (Leipzig, 1910)

ed.: E.T.A. Hoffmann: Musikalische Novellen (Leipzig, 1910)

ed.: E.T.A. Hoffmann: Der Dichter und der Komponist (Leipzig, 1913)

ed.: E.T.A. Hoffmann: Kreisleriana (Leipzig, 1913)

Das Libretto: Wesen, Aufbau und Wirkung des Opernbuchs (Berlin, 1914, 2/1915)

Die moderne Oper vom Tode Richard Wagners bis zum Weltkrieg (1883–1914) (Leipzig, 1915, enlarged 2/1923)

‘German Opera since Richard Wagner’, MQ, i (1915), 260–90

Das Buch der Oper: die deutschen Meister von Gluck bis Wagner (Berlin, 1919, 2/1920)

Nicolo Paganini (Leipzig, 1919)

Revolution und Oper (Regensburg, 1919)

‘Carmen: Novel and Libretto, a Dramaturgic Analysis’, MQ, vii (1921), 493–510

The Art of Writing Opera-Librettos (New York, 1922) [rev. Eng. version of Das Libretto, 1914]

‘Meyerbeer's Way to Mastership’, MQ, xii (1926), 72–109

Bizet und ‘Carmen’ (Stuttgart, 1927)

‘The Music in “Don Quixote”’, MQ, xiii (1927), 434–50

‘Goethe and Music’, MQ, xiv (1928), 216–54

‘Schubert’s Lyric Style’, MQ, xiv (1928), 575–95

‘Peter Cornelius’, MQ, xx (1934), 334–43

ALFRED GRANT GOODMAN

Istesso tempo, l'

(It.: ‘the same pace’).

A direction to maintain the tempo in spite of apparent disturbances, particularly changes of time signature or note value. Thus in a change from 2/4 to 6/8 time the beat would remain constant: the crotchet of the former would equal the dotted crotchet of the latter. Medesimo tempo was also used. By the later 19th century these directions were increasingly replaced by equivalence equations.

DAVID FALLOWS

Istituto di Studi Verdiani.

Institute established in 1963 in Parma.

Istomin, Eugene (George)

(b New York, 26 Nov 1925). American pianist. He first studied with Kiriena Siloti, and then at the Mannes College. When he was 12 he entered the Curtis Institute, where he studied with Rudolf Serkin and Mieczyslaw Horszowski. In 1943 he won the youth competition sponsored by the Philadelphia Orchestra, with which he made his orchestral début playing Chopin’s F minor Concerto the same year. That year he also won the Leventritt Award, which led to an appearance with the New York PO, playing Brahms’s Second Concerto (1943). Around this time he also played with the Busch Chamber Players; his first recording, which brought him considerable attention, was of Bach’s D minor Concerto with that ensemble. He then appeared regularly as a soloist with leading American orchestras, embarking on major tours abroad from 1956; he has been associated primarily with 19th-century works. In 1961 he formed a trio with Isaac Stern and Leonard Rose; his performances of chamber music represent the delicate end of the expressive spectrum. In 1975 he married Marta Casals, the widow of Pablo Casals; she became artistic director of the Kennedy Center in 1980.

MICHAEL STEINBERG/DENNIS K. McINTIRE

Istrate, Mircea

(b Cluj, 27 Sept 1929). Romanian composer. He began his studies at the Cluj Academy with Elisa Ciolan (piano, 1945–9) and Toduţa (composition, 1950–53), but was expelled on political grounds; he was able to transfer to the Bucharest Academy, where he studied composition with Andricu and the piano with Florica Musicescu (1954–7). He taught the piano in Music School no.3 in Bucharest from 1959 until his retirement. A non-conformist composer, Istrate respects tradition while remaining open to techniques ranging from modalism to serialism. The limited number of his works reveal a meticulous and rigorous approach to composition. Pe o plajă japoneză (‘On a Japanese Beach’, 1961) employs variation and phasing techniques within its integrated serial structure; Evenimente (‘Incidents’, 1966) displays his subtle use of timbre and sonic textures.

WORKS

(selective list)

Sonata, fl, pf, 1954; Burlesca, chbr conc., ob, cl, bn, vn, db, 1955; Muzică stereofonică, 2 orchs, 1957, rev. 1959; Pe o plajă japoneză [On a Japanese Beach], female chorus, orch, tape, 1961; Sonata, ob, pf, 1962; Algoritm, orch, 1964; Interferenţe, amp orch, 1965; Evenimente [Incidents], I–VII, dbn, hn, elec gui, vib, mar, prep pf, pf + perc, 6 tapes, 1966; Împliniri – Pulsatii [Fulfilment – Pulsation], I–II, 1973–4

Film scores, choral works, chbr pieces

BIBLIOGRAPHY

W.G. Berger: Ghid pentru muzica instrumentală de cameră [Guide to instrumental chamber music] (Bucharest, 1965)

V. Cosma: Muzicieni români (Bucharest, 1970)

OCTAVIAN COSMA

Ištvan, Miloslav

(b Olomouc, 2 Sept 1928; d Brno, 26 Jan 1990). Czech composer. He studied composition with Kvapil at the Brno Academy of Music (1948–52) and remained there as a postgraduate student (1953–6), assistant lecturer (1956–66) and lecturer (from 1966). He was also active in the Brno branch of the Czech Composers’ Union (1951–60), a member of the Tvůrčí Skupina A (Composer's Group A) from 1963, and an associate of the Brno electronic music studio from 1966.

The years of Ištvan's studies and first works were marked by an ideological prohibition of much important 20th-century music in Czechoslovakia. However, he quickly found his own direction, gaining stimulus from Moravian folksong and from the music and theory of Janáček. Robust, dramatic and unsentimental qualities, together with a persistent search for new forms of expression, are typical of his early years. The Piano Trio (1958) is the finest work of this period, which culminated in the three symphonic frescoes Balada o Jihu (‘Ballad of the South’, 1960), a protest against racialism and national injustice. Three other works of these years, the Second Piano Sonata, the Violin Concertino and the Rhapsody for cello and piano, show him taking up a Bartókian modal technique; in all of them the themes are elaborated very strictly and consistently. The String Quartet (1962–3) again shows Bartók's influence in the palindromic relation of its five movements, but Ištvan also continued to write works with a topical message: the piano piece Odyssea lidického dítěte (‘Odyssey of a Child of Lidice’, 1963) describes the fate of a child, dragged from his home by the Nazis and returning after years of hardship.

Ištvan's subsequent adoption of serialism is documented in Dodekameron (1964), a composition for 12 instruments in 12 movements, some modal, some 12-note. Derived from his incidental music for Büchner's Woyzeck, the score catches the main phases of the dramatic action in its brief sections. Ištvan then began to show an increased interest in rhythm, notably in Ritmi ed antiritmi for two pianos and percussion (1966), where African patterns in the percussion are confronted by vague, aleatory material in the pianos. The final development of his collage technique came in the first vocal works, Zaklínaní času (‘The Exorcism of Time’, 1967) and Já, Jákob (‘I, Jacob’, 1968). The first is a meditation on the meaning of human existence scored for two speakers and orchestra, the montage of three texts being allied with a musical juxtaposition of archaic and contemporary materials. All this is achieved with Baroque tightness, but Já Jákob is much more free-ranging and colourful in its multiplicity of levels. Ištvan had now established his pluralist technique, and his creative potency increased greatly despite the fact that his works were receiving few performances as he was no longer a member of the Composers' Union. The compositions that followed include the electronic Ostrov hraček (‘Island of Toys’, 1967–8), based on the sounds of toys, Ommagio a J.S. Bach for wind quintet (1971), in which Bach motifs are transformed in a pseudo-electronic manner and through serial progressions, and Psalmus niger for percussion ensemble (1972), an extreme product of his preoccupation with elemental rhythm.

During the second half of the 1970s Ištvan approached the peak of his compositional designs. Not hiding his disagreement with the social and political developments in Czechoslovakia, he withdrew from public life and concentrated exclusively on composition and on teaching at the Academy. In Shakespearovské variace (‘Shakespeare Variations’, 1975) for wind and percussion and in the orchestral Hry (‘Games’, 1977) he was inspired by medieval and Renaissance approaches, the forms of the madrigal and the partita determined the shape of his choruses Horlivá toužení (‘Ardent Longings’, 1974), Cor mio (1979) and Partita (1980) for 16 strings. At the same time, however, he rethought his use of the jazz, pop and minimal music, which he realized in an original way in the diptych Mikrosvěty (‘Microworlds’, 1977), in the chamber cantata Hard Blues (1980) and in the Concertino for Baroque Jazz Quintet (1982). His discontent and anger at social events are encrypted in his string quartet Zatemněná krajina (‘The Darkened Landscape’, 1975) and in the single-movement symphonic piece Tempus irae (1983), the provocative titles of which had to compensate for the missing textual hints (a dedication to the victims of war in the first piece, a reference to John Steinbeck's novel in the second) so that the works could be publicly performed. With its simplified expression and large-scale conception the extensive Vokální symfonie (‘Vocal Symphony’, 1986) bore witness to the composer's love of heterophony.

The last two years of Ištvan's life were marked by the death of his wife Věra (1988). An elegiac tone is heard in the Variace na renesanční téma (‘Variations on a Renaissance Theme’, 1988), in the chamber trio Rotace a návraty (‘Rotations and Returns’, 1988) and especially in Solitudo (1989) for 11 string instruments, which he completed in the disturbed atmosphere of November 1989. The resulting political changes brought him to the fore in the revival of activities by Brno artists; involvement cut short by his sudden death soon after completing Makrosvěty (‘Macroworlds’, 1990).

WORKS

(selective list)

Vocal: Zaklínaní času [The Exorcism of Time] (O. Mikulášek, Baroque, Bible), 2 spkrs, orch, 1967; Já, Jákob [I, Jacob] (chbr cant., Bible), spkr, coloratura S, pop T, 8 insts, tape, 1968; Hlasová vernisáž [Vocal Vernissage], S, B–Bar, 2 spkrs, 6 insts, tape, 1969, collab. J. Berg, A. Parsch, A. Piňos, R. Růžička, M. Štědroň; Smuténka (J. Skácel), song cycle, A, pf, tape, 1970; Horácké balady [Ballads from the Highlands], children's vv, 1971; Horlivá toužení [Ardent Longing] (Cz. Baroque verse), madrigal cycle, chorus, 1974; Kráska a zvíře [Beauty and the Beast] (F. Hrubín), chbr orat, 1974; Jakha kale (Roma love songs), 2 ballads, T, pf, 1976; Cor mio, mixed chorus, 1979; Hard Blues (chbr cant., black poetry), spkr, S, pop Bar, chbr orch, 1980; Uspávanky [Lullabies] (J. Skácel), children's choir, 1980; V rozbřesku přijd' [Come at Daybreak] (Fr. and Sp. folk poetry), Mez, cl, opt. early wind inst, 1982; Láska, vzdor a smrt [Love, Defiance and Death] (after A. and V. Mrstík: Maryša), Mez, chbr ens, 1984; Vokální symfonie [Vocal Symphony], spkr, S, B, orch, 1986

Orch: Conc., hn, pf, str, 1949; Československá suita, orch, 1951; Zimní suita [Winter Suite], str, pf, perc, 1956; Conc.-sym., pf, orch, 1958; Balada o Jihu [Ballad of the South], 3 sym. frescoes after L. Allan, 1960; Concertino, vn, chbr orch, 1961; 6 studies, chbr orch, 1964; In memoriam Josef Berg, 1972 [arr. from Avete morituri]; Shakespearovské variace [Shakespeare Variations], wind, perc, 1975; Hry [Games], 7 pictures, 1977; Partita, 16 str, 1980; Tempus irae, 1983 [after J. Steinbeck: The Grapes of Wrath]: Rytmy a tance pro BBB [Rhythms and Dances for the BBB), brass ens, perc, 1984; Variace na renesanční téma [Variations on a Renaissance Theme], 2 spkrs, chbr orch, 1988

Chbr: 3 rondos, va, pf, 1950; Sonata, cl, pf, 1954; Suite, hn, pf, 1955; Sonata, vn, pf, 1956; Partita, fl, cl, bn, 1957; Pf Trio, 1958; Rhapsody, vc, pf, 1961; Str Qt no.1, 1962–3; Dodekameron, 12 insts, 1964; Refrény [Refrains], str trio, 1965; Ritmi ed antiritmi, 2 pf, perc, 1966; Sonata, vc, pf, 1970; Sonata, vn, ens, 1970; Ommagio a J.S. Bach, wind qnt, 1971; Psalmus niger, perc ens, 1972; Duo, db, perc, 1975; Zatemněná krajina [Darkened Landscape], str qt, 1975; Mikrosvěty [Microworlds], 1977: Letnî mikrosvěty [Summer Microworlds], fl, hp, hpd; Mikrosvěty mého města [Microworlds of my Town], 2 va, ob, cl; Capriccio, vib, mar, perc, 1978; Canti, I–IV, 1979–83: I va, II female v, va, tape, III fl, IV sax, perc; Concertino pro Barock Jazz Quintet, ob, b cl, sax, db, perc, 1982; Canzona, a fl, eng hn, vc, pf, 1985; Str Qt no.2, 1986; Trio, cl, pf, perc, 1987; Rotace a návraty [Rotations and Returns], eng hn, va, vc, 1988; Solitudo, 11 str, 1989; Makrosvěty, ‘4 ročhních’] [Macroworlds ‘4 seasons’], perc, 1990

Kbd: Sonata no.1, pf, 1954; Impromptus, pf, 1956; Sonata no.2, pf, 1959; Odyssea lidického dítěte [Odyssey of a Child of Lidice], pf, 1963; Musica aspera, org, 1964; Variace, d, 2 pf, 1972; Sonata no.3, pf, 1978

Tape: Ostrov hraček [Island of Toys], 1967–8; Avete morituri, 1970 [arr. as In memoriam Josef Berg]; Modravá Země [A bluish Landscape] (S. Yesenin), spkr, tape, 1982; Canto V, 1990

Principal publishers: Český hudební fond, panton, Státní hudební vydavatelství, Státní nakladatelstvi krásné literatury, Hudby a umění, Supraphon

WRITINGS

Metoda montáže izolovaných prvků v hudbě [The method of montage of isolated elements in music] (Prague, 1973)

Poznámky k soudobé hudební formě a rytmu [Comments on contemporary musical form and rhythm] (Brno, 1978)

Struktura a tvar hudebního objektu [The structure and form of a musical object] (Prague, 1978)

Jednohlas v soudobé hudbě [Monophony in contemporary music] (Brno, 1989) Articles in HRo

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Grove6 (A. Němcová) [incl. further bibliography]

KdG (J. Bártova and J. Fukač)

V. Holzknecht: ‘Ištvan-Sokola-Bořkovec’, HRo, xiii (1960), 861 only

J. Beneš: ‘Slibný nástup Miloše Ištvana’ [Ištvan's promising start], HRo, xiv (1961), 677–80

D. Pandula: ‘Tvůrčí východiska Miloše Ištvana’ [Ištvan's creative starting-point], HRo, xx (1967), 260–64

O. Setari: ‘Letní mikrosvěty Miloslava Ištvana’ [Ištvan's summer microworlds], OM xiv (1982), 47–9

A. Němcová: ‘Kompoziční styl Miloslava Ištvana’ [Ištvan's compositional style], OM, xvi (1984), 45–7

J. Bártová: ‘Miloslav Ištvan’, HRo, xxxvii (1985), 321–3

L. Faltus, M. Štědroň: Miloslav Ištvan a jeho komorní oratoria (Ištvan and his chamber oratorios], HV, xxii (1985), 3–33, 155–74

J. Bártová: Miloslav Ištvan (Brno, 1997 [incl. work-list, bibliography, Eng. summary])

ALENA NĚMCOVÁ

Istvánffy, Benedek

(b Szentmárton [now Pannonhalma], 1733; d Győr, 25 Oct 1778). Hungarian composer. Born into a noble family, he probably received his first musical instruction from his father, an organist, and came into contact with G.J. Werner, Kapellmeister at the Esterházy court. He was employed by various members of the Széchényi family from 1757 onwards. In 1766 he became succentor at the cathedral in Győr, and from 1773 to 1775 he was also responsible for leading the choir of the Jesuit church there.

Istvánffy’s works, of which only ten survive, cannot have been known outside his immediate surroundings in his own time. Nevertheless, he may be considered the most talented Hungarian composer of the second half of the 18th century in Hungary: his works are almost faultless in technique and up to date in style, and each one shows some individuality in structure.

WORKS

sources: H-Gk, Sp, VEs

Masses: Missa sanctificabis annum quinquagesimum vel Sanctae Dorotheae, 1774, ed. in Musicalia danubiana, xiii (Budapest, 1995); Messa dedicata al patriarcha Santo Benedetto; Gloria to a mass by Werner

Other sacred: Rorate coeli, Alma redemptoris, 2 hymns, 3 offs, all ed. in Musicalia danubiana, iii (Budapest)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

K. Bárdos: Győr zenéje a 17–18. században [Musical life in Győr in the 17th–18th centuries] (Budapest, 1980), 63–77, 419–20

L. Dobszay: Magyar zenetörténet [A history of Hungarian music] (Budapest, 1984), 205–7

Á. Sas: Preface to Benedek Istvánffy: Missa ‘Sanctificabis annum quinquagesimum, vel Sanctae Dorotheae’, Musicalia danubiana, xiii (Budapest, 1995)

ÁGNES SAS

Isum, John.

See Isham, John.

Italian overture.

A type of Overture to an opera, oratorio or other vocal work, common from the late 17th century to the late 18th. It is usually in three movements, fast–slow–fast. The texture is generally homophonic, and the outer movements are normally in major keys, most often D major. Initially, the first movements tended to be in duple metre; the slow movements were often quite short; and the finales were dance-like, often resembling fast minuets or gigues. As the form developed, the first movements tended to incorporate fanfare elements and came increasingly to follow the pattern of sonata form without a development section; the slow movements became longer and more lyrical.

The Italian overture became established in the works of Alessandro Scarlatti in the 1690s (his earliest use of the form is in the 1687 revision of his opera Tutto il mal non vien per nuocere) and spread throughout Europe until it became the standard operatic overture in the middle decades of the 18th century. Alternatives to the three-movement pattern among multi-sectional italianate overtures include the ‘reprise’ overture and a two-movement design, fast–slow, in which the first number after the curtain serves as the finale of the overture (Mozart, La finta giardiniera, 1775). After 1760 these types gradually gave way to other patterns, particularly the familiar one-movement design, which represents the first movement of the earlier Italian overture.

Italian overtures detached from operas were often used as independent concert pieces and were important in the early history of the symphony (see Sinfonia, §2, and Symphony).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

H. Livingston: The Italian Overture from A. Scarlatti to Mozart (diss., U. of North Carolina, 1952)

H. Hell: Die neapolitanische Opernsinfonie in der ersten Hälfte des 18. Jahrhunderts (Tutzing, 1971)

S.C. Fisher: Haydn’s Overtures and their Adaptations as Concert Orchestral Works (diss., U. of Pennsylvania, 1985)

H. Serizawa: ‘The Overtures to Caldara’s Secular Dramatic Compositions, 1716–1736: a Survey and Thematic Index’, Antonio Caldara: Essays on his Life and Times, ed. B. Pritchard (Aldershot, 1987), 77–113

S. Kunze: Die Sinfonie im 18. Jahrhundert (Laaber, 1993); see also review by E. Wolf, Notes, lii (1995–6), 78–84

STEPHEN C. FISHER

Italian sixth chord.

The common name for the Augmented sixth chord that has only a major 3rd in addition to an augmented 6th above the flattened submediant.

Italy.

Country in Europe.

I. Art music

II. Traditional music

NINO PIRROTTA/PIERLUIGI PETROBELLI (I, 1–4), ANTONIO ROSTAGNO (I, 5, 6(v)), GIORGIO PESTELLI (I, 6(i–iv)), JOHN C.G. WATERHOUSE/RAFFAELE POZZI (I, 7), TULLIA MAGRINI (II)

Italy

I. Art music

1. Plainchant.

2. Early secular music.

1. Plainchant.

The length and mountainous nature of the Italian peninsula, and its historical vicissitudes, have given its regional segments significantly different ethnic and linguistic profiles. Similar differences existed in the local ‘dialects’ of Western plainchant that developed during the early Middle Ages and continued in use until the imposition of Gregorian chant throughout most of Italy by the 11th century. In some areas of the peninsula, the Greek liturgies were followed, notably in the south where the Byzantine rite was celebrated in the old Basilian monasteries; Eastern practices are also known to have existed during the early medieval period in the Greek monasteries in Rome and in cities, such as Ravenna, that were once governed by Byzantium.

Traditionally, the origins of Roman chant were ascribed to Pope Gregory the Great (590–604), who, according to legends dating from the Carolingian era, composed the basic melodic repertory and established the Schola Cantorum as the model for the correct performance of liturgical music in the Western Church. However, there is no contemporary evidence to suggest that Gregory was particularly concerned with chant and it is now thought that the Schola Cantorum was founded in Rome during the second half of the 7th century. The repertory that bears his name – Gregorian chant – probably derives from the late 8th century, when the Carolingian kings attempted to introduce Roman chant into the Frankish lands. Whether Gregorian chant was actually sung in Rome at this time, however, is unclear and it has been suggested that it represents a ‘reworking’ of the genuine Roman repertory by Frankish cantors (see Plainchant, §2(ii)). The earliest extant notated manuscripts from Rome, dating from between the 11th and 13th centuries, present a body of melodies that is clearly related to Gregorian chant but which consistently differs in certain details. The performance of this repertory, known as Old Roman chant, was brought to an end in Rome when Pope Nicholas III (1277–80) officially suppressed it in favour of Gregorian chant.

During the Carolingian era many of the local Italian repertories were replaced by Gregorian chant as part of an attempt to establish liturgical uniformity; by the 11th century only Rome and Milan maintained their indigenous musical traditions. The Aquileian Church, which had formerly followed its own rite, adopted the Gregorian use during the reign of Charlemagne (d 814); almost nothing of its melodic repertory survives. Beneventan chant, however, which developed in southern Italy during the 7th and 8th centuries, was not fully suppressed until 1052 and a significant amount of its music survives in notated sources. The only tradition that successfully resisted the imposition of Gregorian chant was that of Milan. Its survival was undoubtedly helped by the prestige of St Ambrose, Bishop of Milan (374–97), who was traditionally credited with the creation of the chant repertory. Ambrose is known to have introduced the singing of psalms and hymns to strengthen the resolve of his flock when they were beseiged in the Basilica Porziana by Aryan persecutors, and at least four of the many hymn texts attributed to him are genuine. However, there is no evidence to associate him with the composition of ‘Ambrosian’ melodies. The melodies of the Milanese rite were first written down in the 12th century in pitch-specific notation and are still performed today in Milan and in some churches in the diocese of Lugano (see Ambrosian chant and Ambrose).

(i) General observations.

(ii) Musicians' lives.

(iii) Opera.

(iv) Sacred music.

(v) Instrumental music.

(i) General observations.

18th-century Italian music appears to have well-defined chronological limits: at one extremity stand Corelli and Zeno's operatic reforms, at the other the late works of Boccherini. This historical construct contains a measure of truth but is also misleading. The idea that the revolutions at the end of the 18th century released a spirit of artistic renewal was ideologically motivated: during the period of the Risorgimento critics condemned 18th-century music because of its hedonistic functions and as the expression of an élite class, and De Sanctis and Carducci judged Metastasian opera in the same light. Nevertheless, as early as the 19th century the music of Sammartini and 18th-century Venetian composers caught the attention of such theorists as Carpani, Gervasoni, Lichtenthal, Picchianti and Ruta. Asioli (1832) identified the counterpoint of Corelli and Marcello as instructive models of a style that was scholarly but not dry, but in doing so undervalued its purely aesthetic value. This view, a symptom of inadequate historic awareness, was repeated by Verdi's pupil, Emanuele Muzio, when he described Corelli's music as ‘tough food to digest’, but as a useful subject for study because it was ‘full of science’.

The re-evaluation of 18th-century instrumental music was the work of the 20th-century musicologists Torchi, Chilesotti, Vatielli and Torrefranca, followed by the composers Casella and Malipiero. In contrast, the genres of oratorio and cantata, more concerned with a specific function, aroused no interest in an intellectual environment so heavily influenced by Benedetto Croce. In recent decades, however, research into 18th-century Italian opera has afforded greater insight into its codes of communication and its system of production. The definition of 18th-century Italian music as an abstract, stylized art, a hedonistic diversion for a society which the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle (1748) consigned to the margins of history, has thus declined.

Three broad categories of places where music was performed in 18th-century Italy can be identified: the public, private and ecclesiastical, which correspond in general terms to the three genres of opera, instrumental and chamber music (including cantatas) and liturgical music. There was an uninterrupted growth in the number of opera houses, which took on the character of civic institutions and became points of reference in the layout of a city. The old system of court theatres was progressively replaced by one of theatres run by impresarios for profit. Instrumental concerts (‘academies’) were mostly given in private homes; since it did not involve the commercial mechanisms of the theatre, instrumental music was the exclusive province of the upper classes. Cathedrals and their chapels were affected by the opera house: performers often worked both in church and the theatre, and the idiom of liturgical music grew increasingly similar to that of opera.

The three genres have in common a diffused habit of inattentive listening: it was only with considerable effort that the idea of listening to music as a work of art became established in Italy, and for this reason many musical compositions go no higher than the level of ornamental, extemporary and occasional work. The ephemeral nature of musical expression entailed a high degree of improvisation in all three genres: from the opera house (where the singer improvised in the da capo sections of arias, and, as Giardini and Galeazzi document, orchestral players sometimes did likewise) to the church, where the organist had carte blanche to improvise, and private entertainments (in 1787 Hadrava describes an improvisation on ‘composed’ music, such as that by Mozart).

As the century progressed, music, without distinctions between genres, became the prevailing artistic expression in the daily life of the upper middle class: ‘the Italians may, perhaps, be accused of cultivating music to excess’ (Burney). The high rate of consumption led to greater conventionalism and periodic changes in taste: ‘musical taste in Italy changes at least every ten years’ (De Brosses, 256). With the spread of ‘profit-making’ opera houses, and the increased tendency to celebrate public occasions with music, the social range of consumers widened. This broadening of the social base of the ‘leaders of taste’ guided the choice of musical genres: the only really classless genre was opera, particularly comic opera after 1750. Although Stendhal, writing in 1817, still saw Italy as the land of music par excellence, this supremacy had diminished in the last decades of the 18th century, as can be seen in the exodus of players abroad and opera composers' search for success in the great capitals outside Italy.

In the middle of the century music started to be reconsidered aesthetically, no longer viewed as something ephemeral and occasional, but an art form with its own expressive worth. Algarotti, Tartini and Muratori, and later Baretti, Galeazzi and Carpani document the passage from a scientific concept of musical composition to an aesthetic one; from music as one of the liberal arts to music as one of the fine arts; no longer a craft (as Saverio Mattei was still maintaining in 1785), but an expression of character and affetti, a direct imitation of nature (Tartini/Algarotti).

(ii) Musicians' lives.

Musicians were educated within the family circle, in the case of the professional musical families, or in the few institutional schools in Italy: these were the conservatories in Naples and Palermo (the famous ospedali for girls in Venice did not, with a few exceptions, prepare their pupils for a profession), the chapels of the great cathedrals like S Petronio in Bologna or, for 16th-century counterpoint, the Roman chapels and the Santuario della Santa Casa in Loreto. Lastly there was private teaching, the greatest example of which is provided by Tartini, ‘teacher to all the nations’, as well as the instances of Hasse with Scarlatti and Galuppi with Lotti. According to De Brosses (p.598), ‘the best seminaries of maestri di cappella are in Naples. … For voices, the best school is in Bologna; Lombardy excels in instrumental music’, and this is confirmed by Josse de Villeneuve (1756). Naples, where the majority of Italian composers were educated, had four conservatories: the Poveri di Gesù Cristo (closed in 1743), S Maria di Loreto and S Onofrio (which merged in 1797), and S Maria della Pietà dei Turchini. It is estimated that each conservatory had an average of about 100 pupils in a city of about 250,000 inhabitants. The subjects taught were counterpoint and figured bass (partimenti), while operatic and instrumental composition were learned orally and by imitation, a distinction between the educational and the professional (theory and practice) that remained unchanged until Verdi's day.

After completing his education, the young composer could make his début with short comic operas, liturgical pieces, or by writing arias for insertion into operas by others. After he made himself known, he could aspire to opera seria and the great theatres: the determining factors at this stage were the family ties and contacts of his own teacher. However, it was difficult to guarantee an income and regular work in writing for the theatre. Instrumental composition offered the composer two lucrative possibilities: a dedication to a member of the nobility, rewarded with a one-off gift, or in private sales of an independently printed work. Another possible employment was as maestro al cembalo (harpsichordist) in a theatre, as was probably the case with the young Galuppi at the Teatro S Angelo in Venice. As well as these personal sources of income a composer usually also held a permanent post in service to the nobility, in the church, or as a teacher. In these cases, too, the remuneration was modest. A composer in the mid-18th century being thus active in all genres meant that there was a continual stylistic cross-fertilization between them, a situation criticized by Tartini.

There are various examples of singers being born into professional musical families, such as the Mingotti, Ristorini, Baglioni and Laschi families. The greatest number of singing teachers is recorded in Bologna, although no institutional school of singing with a local stylistic identity was ever established there. In Rome the Collegio Germanico and the Seminario Romano, both Jesuit foundations, exported their pupils all over Europe. Because of the papal ban on women performing either in church or in the opera house, many castratos, often from humble backgrounds, began their careers in Rome.

Singers who did not succeed in entering the extensive operatic scene, which had its centre in Bologna, contented themselves with posts in the cathedrals. The first performers to reap the benefits of the nascent star system were singers, on whom every category of musical performance depended; they were thus the first element operatic administrators had to consider, and they were the highest paid, commanding up to ten times the fee of the composer. Later on, the composer also entered the open market: for example, Piccinni in 1770 could choose where to work according to the pay on offer. This was the point at which the composer became a cornerstone in the mechanism of opera production, and began his social ascent.

(iii) Opera.

Opera was the most widespread artistic form; no other cultural expression had the same capacity to reflect social life, the same cultural prestige or comparable turnover. Opera as a whole had a double social and cultural function: its social function was as an instrument of moral and civil education (Zeno), the vehicle of the dominant ideology (Metastasio), and as social critique (comic opera); its cultural function was to disseminate ‘high’ culture and language and to convey classical subjects or, later on, otherwise unknown ones from fiction. Hence Strohm's assertion (1991, p.19) that ‘Italian opera, good and bad, was a school for the nation, precisely as cinema and television are today’. At the beginning of the century opera divided into two genres: opera seria (dramma per musica) and comic opera (intermezzo, commedia per musica, dramma giocoso per musica, opera buffa). This division made it possible for opera to be widely disseminated and carry out multiple functions. The two genres constituted two alternative systems with mechanisms of production, performance and reception that rarely intersected, but which influenced each other to a great extent in dramaturgy, versification, musical language and structure.

Max Fehr and Hermann Abert were the first to recognize that the men of letters rather than the composers played the leading role in the ‘reform’ of 17th-century Venetian opera into the rational dramma per musica. The first reformers, besides Zeno, were Silvio Stampiglia, Girolamo Frigimelica Roberti, Antonio Salvi and Pietro Pariati, who all shared the same Arcadian ideals. Another member of the Accademia dell'Arcadia was the poet Metastasio, the most pervasive figure in the history of 18th-century opera.

The first Arcadian operas were created in Venice: La forza della virtù by Domenico David to a libretto by Zeno (1693), and Gli inganni felici (1695) and Lucio Vero (1700) by C.F. Pollarolo, also to librettos by Zeno. At first literary reform had little influence on the music: Alessandro Scarlatti, Giovanni and Antonio Bononcini and Gasparini continued the 17th-century legacy of contrapuntal writing, concertante instrumental parts, and arias accompanied only by basso continuo. The spread of Arcadian and rationalist opera coincided with Metastasio's first libretto (Didone abbandonata, 1724, Naples) and the first operas by the composers of his generation: the Neapolitans Porpora, Feo, Pergolesi, Leo, Hasse and Vinci (the first ‘classical’ composer, according to De Brosses, Algarotti, Burney and Grétry), and the Venetians Albinoni, Orlandini, Caldara and Vivaldi. The anti-Baroque reforms of Zeno and Metastasio covered a number of elements: the revival of the Aristotelian unities, the elimination of comic elements, marginal episodes and spectacular stage effects, and a reduction of the number of scenes from 60 or 70 to between 20 and 30. The composition followed the dramatic form, divided into repeated sequences of recitative (or multiple recitatives) and da capo aria. The recitatives, generally dialogues for up to five characters, set up the motivation for the subsequent aria, in which the character stepped outside the real time of the action for a personal, reflective reaction. At the end of the aria, the character left the stage. This recitative and aria structure remained dominant until 1770 and suited the ‘tyranny of the text’ over the music. Such a word-centred concept was in line with the classical idea of tragedy in which events did not take place on stage but were referred to by characters who brought their personal reactions on stage instead. The 19th century's charges against Metastasian opera derived in large part from an inability to understand these assumptions, which have their roots in the Enlightenment.

During the Metastasian period (by extension, from 1700 to 1770) only the drama was a work of art, the music having a simple auxiliary value. The ‘author’ was thus the dramatist, while it was the responsibility of the singer to create the performance; the composer had a subordinate role, vaguely comparable to that of the modern-day director. This is the reason why in 18th-century Italy it was the libretto, not the score, that was printed, and on the title-page, as on the theatre poster, the name of the composer was not given (in 1842 the title-page of the libretto of Nabucco still gave only Solera's name, not Verdi's). This also explains the practice of continual resetting of the same Metastasio librettos: Didone abbandonata was set to music about 60 times; Olimpiade about 50, Achille in Sciro about 30. Opera seria, at least until the last quarter of the century, was an established genre and the tendency was for each musical and dramatic realization to be a one-off, a costly undertaking incompatible with the emerging commercial nature of opera.

During the 1750s even faithful supporters of Metastasio such as Hasse and Jommelli reacted against the ‘tyranny of the text’. At this time the text had a conservative function and a high prestige stemming from tradition, while the music had a contrasting evolutive function: arias broke free from the da capo form, the overture acquired greater interest (as in Piccinni's Catone in Utica), and accompanied recitative became predominant (Traetta, Ifigenia in Tauride). Sacchini, Traetta (Antigona) and Salieri (L'Europa riconosciuta) show in different ways the influence of French tragédie lyrique in the increasingly spectacular nature of opera and the greater use of chorus and orchestra. Another evolutionary impulse came from opera buffa, especially in the use of ensembles: in Artaserse (1749) Galuppi brings together in a final quartet what the Metastasio original had as a sequence of five separate arias. Dance became a source of new subjects: with Noverre and Angiolini in Milan from the 1770s onwards, the ‘ballo pantomimo’ proved more popular than opera, prompting lamentations from Metastasio. Of all the 18th-century trends in opera, only the reform of Gluck and Calzabigi had no great effect in Italy, except in those states with Habsburg connections.

In the last third of the century many new librettists (no longer autonomous playwrights like Metastasio) came to the fore, including Calzabigi, Da Ponte, Coltellini, De Gamerra, Sografi and Verazi. During this phase it was the composers who made operatic history: Anfossi, Sacchini, Paisiello, Cimarosa, Tritto, Zingarelli (the ‘late Neapolitans’), Sarti, Salieri, Paer and Mayr. Metastasian opera was based on a range of conventions which were utterly clear to his contemporaries: the post-Metastasian phase (1770–1800) was multiform, sometimes experimental, but the tendency was towards an acceleration of the dramatic rhythm. New subjects and a new vocabulary implied new metres, with frequent breaks and a preference for lines with an even number of syllables. New types of scene were introduced (dungeons, oracles, executions, cemeteries, eerie forests, ghosts and skeletons), and there was greater dependence on spectacular effects and the use of the chorus even during arias (Traetta's Ifigenia in Tauride, Paisiello's Elfrida and Cimarosa's Gli Orazi ed i Curiazi). The orchestra acquired greater importance: in his Nitteti (1756) Metastasio had already imagined the ‘din of tumultuous symphonies’ in the battle scene. The number of arias was reduced and the scenes were extended: sequences of solo scenes were transformed into ensembles (like the final sextet of Cimarosa's L'olimpiade): this brought about a reduction of exit arias, and Paisiello, for example, wrote only four exit arias in Elfrida and none at all in Elvira. The same composer reached a new level in Pirro in 1787; contemporary periodicals (Gazzetta Universale and Gazzetta Toscana) and direct documentation (G.G. Ferrari, Hadrava) reveal how much the dramatization of the solo scenes and the elaborate ensemble finales were admired. Singers were asked to interpret with greater realism and fidelity, as Burney documented when he praised the Florentine Guarducci for his expressivity and because he ‘adds but few notes’ to the melody.

Comedy, which had been banished from opera by Zeno's reform, began a history of its own. The first comic operatic forms were the commedia per musica and the intermezzo, neither of them popular art forms – indeed, in some cases, they were quite erudite – and they shared in the same anti-Baroque reaction as Zeno's reforms. The intermezzo, which grew out of the comic scenes in 17th-century opera, sprang from collaborations between the librettist Pariati and Gasparini and Albinoni and the buffo bass G.B. Cavana in Venice (the first printed librettos date from 1707). Cavana is responsible for the intermezzo being exported from Venice to Naples, where it was taken up by Scarlatti, Leo, Sarro, Vinci, Hasse and Pergolesi. The most frequently performed intermezzo of the century was Bacocco e Serpilla by G.M. Orlandini (1715, Verona). But posterity remembers the intermezzo (suppressed in Naples by royal decree in 1736) only by Pergolesi's La serva padrona (1733, Naples), which sparked the Querelle des Bouffons when it was performed at the Académie Royale de Musique in Paris in 1752. There were some forward-looking elements in the style of a typical intermezzo: music which stays close to the text, short, unadorned vocal phrases, a simple plot with two or three characters, a recognition scene set as a duet, and middle-class, popular subject matter.

The commedia per musica had a more complex genesis: in Naples, after the private experiment of La Cilla (1706), the Teatro dei Fiorentini organized the first public season of commedeje pe' museca, all in Neapolitan dialect, in 1709. There were companies active in Rome performing Neapolitan commedie, and in 1717 Florence saw a scholarly attempt to revive the 17th-century ‘civili e rusticali’ operas of Moniglia and Villifranchi, while the librettist, impresario and composer G.M. Buini had a company working in Bologna and Venice. Only Neapolitan comedy, translated into Italian, went on to long-lasting success; the buffo bass Francesco Baglioni was responsible for the genre's decisive step forward in popularity, in Rome. Here in 1729 there were performances of La costanza (from Vinci's Li zite 'ngalera) and La somiglianza (from Leo's Lo simmele) at the Teatro Capranica; in 1738 La finta cameriera (Latilla) and La commedia in commedia (Rinaldo di Capua) were given at the Teatro Valle. La finta cameriera had been performed more than 20 times in northern Italy by 1750. Neapolitan opera buffa continued on its way in Florence, where it was performed by the singers Pertici, Laschi, Brogi and Querzoli. Goldoni was living in Florence until 1748; when he returned to Venice his collaboration with Galuppi produced the two examples of dramma giocoso per musica, L'Arcadia in Brenta (1749; see fig.11) and Il filosofo di campagna (1754), the first pan-Italian comic operas.

The golden age of opera buffa lasted from 1770 until about 1820, significantly, from Piccinni to Rossini. Although more ambitious in scope, the genre has similarities with the intermezzo: the various characters are stylized in music that has a new, imitative quality; each text was set only once, and operas were frequently revived, but the text was not printed, as yet; ensembles are used and secco recitative retained in response to the need to present the action as succinctly as possible; multiple musical forms and linguistic registers are employed, from dialect to Latinate Italian for parody purposes, and a range of vocal writing from parlando to the decorative melismas of opera seria; many more voice types are used, and the leading role is always taken by a buffo bass (the famous performers were G.B. Cavana, Gioacchino Corrado, Filippo Laschi, Pietro Pertici, Francesco Baglioni and Antonio Lottini) while the higher voices are expected to be more actors than virtuoso singers. In 1760 La buona figliuola by Piccinni, to a libretto by Goldoni, marked the change to a pathetic, sentimental genre; the success of this work can be measured both in the influence it had on opera seria and in the dissemination of some of its techniques, such as the rondo finale.

Venice was the centre of the operatic market both for its high rate of consumption and because it provided the link to posts in northern Europe; Bologna was where the agencies that looked after the engagements of singers, composers and designers were concentrated, and Naples was the centre for the training of operatic composers. This division, already clear to De Brosses (1799) and Archenholz (1787), reflects the system of Italian opera production, based not on permanent service, as in the courts of northern Europe, but on itinerant singers, composers, designers and choreographers. The mobile work force was coordinated by the impresarios, who belonged to the urban middle class, and who directed the theatres with public and private money. The great cities had many theatres: usually the political authority controlled and financed the leading theatre, devoted to opera seria for celebrations and during the Carnival seasons (averaging two new operas a year), and occasionally a minor theatre, giving commedie or opera buffa; these two organizations had the characteristics of civic institutions. For example, in Naples the leading theatre of S Bartolomeo (S Carlo from 1737) was linked to the Fondo; in Milan the Ducale (La Scala from 1778) was associated with the Cannobiana; in Turin the connected theatres were the Regio and the Carignano, and other financed theatres were found in Rome, Genoa, Bologna, Florence, Parma and Reggio nell'Emilia. Many smaller theatres were not subsidized and were in competition with one another: the Fiorentini and Nuovo theatres in Naples, for example, and many others in Venice, Rome, Bologna and Florence; smaller cities, finally, were connected to the dominant centres by the impresario network (in 1785 about 80 cities had a theatre). The private minor theatres favoured comic opera, which meant that impresarios could economize on the production and choose operas with a wider audience appeal. In these cases it was more economical to revive tried and tested scores. The smaller business corresponded to more moderate payment to the singers; opera buffa was performed by more or less stable companies when the market in opera seria was already operating on an individual basis (this could be a practical reason why there are more ensembles in comic opera). The business of the leading opera seria theatres involved greater outlay, but survival was guaranteed by government support: the business of the minor theatres was subject to the risks of the free market: this contrast reveals another aspect of the bourgeois nature of opera buffa.

In opera seria the long survival of castratos (Guadagni, Farinelli, Senesino, Caffariello and Gizziello) and the stardom of the great virtuosos (Bordoni, Gabrielli, Cuzzoni, Raaf and Carlani) meant that the profession never became one transmitted from generation to generation (in fact, singing was considered extremely specialized); in comic opera, in contrast, skills were passed down through entire family trees (descendants of the Laschi and Baglioni families appeared in the first performances of Mozart's Le nozze di Figaro and Don Giovanni). The abstract, idealized tone of opera seria allowed unnatural voice types to survive for quite some time; the realistic, middle-class tone of opera buffa required only natural voices and the entire range of voice types to differentiate between the characters.

When it first appeared, comic opera was musically and dramatically progressive, but the financial basis on which the opera house was organized meant that within 30 years the situation was reversed. Being less exposed to market forces, opera seria had greater freedom to experiment and develop, while opera buffa, subject to public approval, maintained its original features up to the 19th century; for this reason, the eclecticism of opera seria from the 1780s onwards (in the work of Paisiello, Sarti, Paer and Mayr) enabled it to develop continually, while the growing success of opera buffa meant that it became a conservative genre.

(iv) Sacred music.

Foreign travellers such as De Brosses, Burney, Coyer, Lalande and Hadrava were struck by the amount of music performed in Italian churches. Burney, in particular, paints a picture of much sacred music, often of poor quality, being composed and performed for a non-class-specific audience. The principal causes for its weakness were the quasi-operatic character of the music, and the demands of composing quickly to order. Besides this ‘consumer’ output, the visitors also noted a rigorous ‘Palestrina’ style of strict counterpoint with or without instrumental accompaniment, unconnected with consumption or changing taste. Burney in 1770 indicates its use not only in Rome in the famous Cappella Sistina and Cappella Giulia and at the Chiesa Nuova, but also in Florence and Venice.

The stylistic colonization of sacred music, in particular of oratorio, by opera reflects the latter's economic dominance. The connection between the two is suggested by the title of Arcangelo Spagna's essay Oratorii overo melodrammi sacri (1706), in which he proposes that the lessons of contemporary opera should be taken on board to alleviate the monotony of oratorios. The oratorio of the early 18th century was divided into two sections with a total of 400 lines, split into recitatives and da capo arias. The most active librettists in Italian oratorio, apart from those who were also patrons, Benedetto Pamphili and Pietro Ottoboni, were Stampiglia, Zeno (from 1718) and Metastasio (from 1730).

Rome was the centre of oratorio: the Oratorio del Crocifisso, where Alessandro Scarlatti worked and Corelli was leader of the violins, was the home of oratorio in Latin until 1710; other locations were S Girolamo della Carità, S Maria in Vallicella, Chiesa Nuova, Seminario Romano Gesuita, Collegio Clementino, the Confraternita della Morte and the Confraternita della Pietà dei Fiorentini, and the many noble homes which hosted performances of oratorios and cantatas in Italian by Alessandro Scarlatti, Handel and Caldara. From 1720 Durante, Leo, Porpora, Jommelli, Piccinni, Cimarosa, Paisiello, Anfossi and Zingarelli worked at the Oratorio dei Girolamini, Naples; here a debate on sacred music saw the supporters of Durante (‘durantisti’), who wanted to distinguish between modern composition and the style of Palestrina, line up against Leo's supporters (‘leisti’) who looked instead for a fusion between the two. In Venice oratorio continued to be in Latin, cultivated first by Lotti, Gasparini and Vivaldi, then by Bertoni, Sacchini and Galuppi. In Bologna, the second papal city, Vitali, the Predieri family, Perti and his pupil Giovanni Battista Martini provided works for the cathedral of S Petronio and the academies: degli Unanimi, degli Anziani and delle Belle Lettere. Sammartini and Marchi worked for Milan Cathedral, where in 1724 there was a performance of the composite oratorio La calunnia delusa by ten local composers, in the manner of the operatic pasticcio. There is documentation of the fashion for such composite oratorios in Florence as well.

In the mid-century the papacy also made concessions to the prevailing operatic style: Pope Benedict XIV's encyclical Occasione imminenti Anni Sacri (1749) hopes for a middle way ‘inter cantum ecclesiasticum et scaenicas modulationes’. Teachers like Durante and scholars like Padre Martini safeguarded the strict Palestrina style. In his polemic with Eximeno, Martini takes Pergolesi's Stabat mater to task for paying little attention to sacred style, and in so doing Martini demonstrates an abstract idea of strict counterpoint that is at a remove from the actual music, and thus anachronistic.

(iii) Instrumental music.

(v) Instrumental music.

For a long time instrumental music was also held to be a functional adornment which could be altered according to the occasion. The composer did not yet consider his own work to be an absolute ‘text’. The evidence for this lies in the details of for whom, and for what occasions, sonatas or concertos were composed: Corelli for private celebrations of Roman patrons, Vivaldi to provide music for teaching, Tartini for the solemn functions at the basilica of S Antonio in Padua, Sammartini ‘for the entertainment of those citizens who for amusement come to the ramparts [of the Castello Sforzesco in Milan] on summer evenings’ (Carpani). In the middle of the century there was a reaction against the predominantly lightweight nature of instrumental music in the period: Algarotti heard ‘motives’ and ‘subjects’ derived from Petrarch in Tartini's works; Tartini himself attributed to instrumental musical expression the natural imitation of ‘characters’ and ‘affects’, often clarified in short Metastasian verses placed at the head of the piece of music. Despite their differences, the two attitudes indicate the movement from a scientific concept of music (applied science) to the aesthetic idea (expressive fine art).

At the beginning of the century Rome and Venice were the leading centres: Burney saw in the Venetian school around Vivaldi (Albinoni, Alberti and Tessarini) ‘a light and irregular troop’; on the other hand, the Roman school formed by Corelli (Locatelli, Geminiani and Valentini) provided ‘the greatest performers and composers for the violin which Italy could boast during the first 50 years of the present century’. Historical distance, however, shows a proximity between the two, encouraged by the Borghese and Ottoboni families. In 1905 Schering established Corelli's thematic influence on Vivaldi; he saw Vivaldi's op.3, L'estro armonico, as an eclectic collection embracing both conventional Venetian elements and contemporary Roman elements taken from Corelli's pupil Valentini. There were two responses to Corelli's position as the archetype: for some his work was a model from which to develop according to the composer's own sensibilities: these include Vivaldi, Veracini and Tartini. Others took a more conservative approach and followed the Corellian forms of sonata and concerto to the letter; examples of this are his pupil Geminiani, Locatelli and Handel.

The basic compositional element for Corelli is variety, the juxtaposition of contrasting elements. The op.6 collection of concerti grossi brings together paratactic elements written at different times and on different occasions, assembled as constructional building-blocks according to the basic criterion of contrast (counterpoint–harmony, tutti–concertino, cantabile–virtuosity, slow–fast, sonata da chiesa–sonata da camera).

While the form of the Corelli sonata with a prelude and two or three movements spread quickly to the Venetian school (Caldara, op.2, 1699; Albinoni, op.3, 1701), there are some differences between the two schools when it comes to concerto writing: the make up of the ensembles is different and Vivaldi tended to establish a uniform style of writing in five parts (principal violin, first and second violin, viola and cello/basso continuo). The concerto for one or more soloists was developed much more in Venice, and the Venetians reduced the formal variety of the Roman concerto to the form Allegro–Adagio–Allegro.

The Corelli model was disseminated not only through his influence in Venice but also by his pupils: Locatelli and Geminiani brought the Italian concerto grosso to the Netherlands and England, Somis (in Rome from 1703) began the Turin school of violin playing which led to Giardini, Pugnani and Viotti, and lastly, for Tartini the starting-point was a Roman source in a Venetian manner.

It was Tartini, with his work after 1735, who exceeded the bounds of the Corelli tradition. In his concertos for violin and strings the three movements are planned tonally and have four tutti sections alternating with three solo interventions. Tartini's sonatas, on the other hand, follow a scheme of increasingly fast tempos (Lento, Allegro, Vivace), and are in a two-part form – tonic-dominant–retransition. The slow movements demonstrate the ‘instrumental cantabile which constitutes the real achievement of Tartini's art’ (Petrobelli).

De Brosses (1799), while recognizing Tartini's eminence, had a high opinion of the Lombard instrumental school, which benefited from the region's political links with Vienna. There were many composers active in Milan, with G.B. Sammartini at their head, who wrote ‘sinfonie’ (works for four-part strings, also known as ‘ouverture’ or ‘sonate’): Brioschi, Scaccia, Giulini and Lampugnani (who also composed operas). Sammartini's sinfonie, from the 1740s, constitute a model which J.C. Bach, Boccherini, Haydn and Mozart must have looked to. The key to Sammartini's mature symphonic style is rhythmic organization and his ability to maintain an intense musical flow giving rise to continuity of structure: this gives his style an eminently logical and dynamic structure which is also to be found in Tartini, distinct from the static-architectural conception of the late-Baroque concerto. In his Dictionnaire de musique (1768) Rousseau signals Tartini as an exemplary composer of Adagios, Sammartini of Andantes and Locatelli of Allegros.

With Boccherini the diaspora of Italian instrumentalists became evident. Boccherini sums up the history of Italian instrumental music: from the neo-classical composure of Corelli assimilated during his student year in Rome (1757), to the Tartini style which he came to know through his teacher G.B. Costanzi and his collaborators Nardini and Manfredi, all pupils of Tartini, and the symphonic style of Sammartini, with whom he collaborated in person in 1765. Boccherini unites this Italian legacy with an eclectic international experience that ranges from Gluck to Gossec to the Mannheim school. But his assimilation of such elements was consciously directed towards a ‘stylistic originality’ (Degrada) that would support his authoritative role and individual creativity (‘I would not be Boccherini if I had written as you advised’).

Keyboard composition shows less vitality. The harpsichord was used principally to realize basso continuo, as can be read in the treatise L'armonico pratico al cimbalo by Gasparini (1708) and in Burney's documentation (1771). While Zipoli, organist of the church of the Gesù in Rome in 1716, and Durante introduced a distinction of timbre and idiom between organ and harpsichord, this came to fruition only in Domenico Scarlatti's sonatas, a personal development which has few connections with the Italian experience.

In 1711 in the Giornale de' Letterati d'Italia Scipione Maffei announced the construction of the first pianoforte by Bartolomeo Cristofori, harpsichord builder to the grand ducal court of Tuscany; but the new instrument was slow to become established. Sonata composers in the Venice area, Pescetti, Platti, Alberti, Galuppi, Paganelli, remained tied to harpsichord thinking. Some melodic ideas, however, and a broad use of functional dynamic accompaniments to suit the new melodic manner (the ‘Alberti bass’) show some evidence of interest in the new instrument. Here we can see a model for that ‘singing Allegro’ which became widespread in Europe for several decades. The Neapolitan school shows individual features in keyboard music too: Rutini, Paradies and Vento became famous abroad in particular (in England especially) more as harpsichordists than as opera composers. One of the flood of Italian composers who travelled to London was Clementi, and it was due to him that the piano became completely independent from earlier instruments. His sonatas op.2 (1773) display a modern, independent thematic style while introducing a whole range of pianistic techniques which remained in use up until the time of Schubert.

Italy, §I: Art music

6. 19th century.

(i) Opera.

(ii) Church music.

(iv) Musicology.

(v) Cultural systems and aesthetics.

(i) Opera.

The multifarious activities of the previous century slackened at the beginning of the 19th and concentrated on musical theatre, where a code of communication between the composer and the Italian audience was firmly established. Whereas in the rest of Europe Romantic aspirations were expressed through instrumental music, in Italy this spirit was entirely manifested in opera; in fact the melodramma mirrored the behaviour of Italian society, in the manner of the novel in France, England and Russia. The middle classes began to rule the country even at the level of musical life, and publishers (such as Ricordi in Milan) and impresarios (such as Barbaia, Jacovacci, Lanari and Merelli) were the arbiters of operatic life. There was no place in the new century for a learned scholar like Padre Martini; his heirs, Padre Mattei at Bologna, Bonifazio Asioli at Milan and G.B. Baini at Rome, were restricted to a narrower sphere of activity. Men of culture were less important, while the clever impresario (often of humble origins) and the efficient publishers grew in power as they began to employ the medium of newspapers or new industrial techniques. Revolutionary opera, with its contemporary social implications, had little following in Italy. In his preface to the libretto of La congiura pisoniana (1797, Milan), F.S. Salfi presented an opera that aimed at ‘instruction’, at ‘the heart’ as well as ‘the ear’; but such purposes would have required a freer form like the opéra comique or the Singspiel, foreign to taste in Italy where opera sung from beginning to end was a deep-rooted tradition. The revolutionary storm shipwrecked many composers of the old school. Cimarosa and Paisiello led turbulent lives under revolutionary and Bourbon governments, and the peaceful life of the second half of the 18th century ended in a period of great confusion. Significantly, after starting conventional careers in Italy, the two greatest Italian composers of the age, Cherubini and Spontini, worked abroad and wrote operas in foreign languages. At the same time, at least in northern Italy, the scene was dominated by a foreigner, Simon Mayr, who introduced a type of serious, carefully orchestrated opera influenced by Gluck.

The Restoration period was brightly illuminated by Rossini, whose star rose in 1813 just as that of Napoleon was about to set. Rossini’s comic operas perfectly mirror the ‘average Italian’, with his disillusioned view of existence and his refusal to accept extreme solutions; similarly, the distinction between the Neapolitan and Venetian schools, between south and north, ended after 1815, when Barbaia summoned Rossini to Naples for Elisabetta, regina d’Inghilterra. As his operas were produced throughout Italy, many composers such as Mayr, Pietro Generali and Nicola Vaccai, who a few decades earlier would have scored a deserved success in their respective centres, were eclipsed by Rossini; those who, like Pacini and Mercadante, competed with Rossini, Bellini and Donizetti on the one hand, and Verdi on the other, suffered even more from the comparison.

The musical unification of the country achieved by Rossini soon bore fruit; Bellini, a Sicilian, triumphed in Milan, while Donizetti, a Lombard, conquered Naples and Rome. Italy seemed smaller and more united, its boundaries increasingly connected by modern means of transport, its roads travelled by political exiles from one end of the country to the other. The number of major theatres was smaller than in the 18th century, but their prestige grew in inverse proportion, and La Fenice at Venice, La Scala at Milan, the Pergola at Florence, the Apollo and Argentina at Rome and the S Carlo at Naples were renowned throughout Italy. The export of Italian music, checked by the flourishing Romantic movement at the beginning of the century, was revived by Rossini; connections with Paris were renewed, and Bellini, Donizetti and Verdi followed in Rossini’s footsteps, while for nearly the whole of the century France acted as the channel through which English and German literature reached Italy.

Italian opera, though still based on the supremacy of the voice, was no longer a self-sufficient and united world. It had to adapt itself to Romantic ideals. One of the first results was the waning popularity of comic opera after the peak reached by Rossini. Works in the style continued to be written (for instance by Valentino and Vincenzo Fioravanti at Rome and Naples), but after Donizetti’s L’elisir d’amore (1832) the next comic masterpiece in Italy was Verdi’s Falstaff (1893). Meanwhile new sources were discovered in European fiction and literature and particularly in English history (after the downfall of Napoleon such subjects became very popular); they were treated with a modified form of Romanticism, as for instance in the librettos of Felice Romani, who remained faithful to classical rules of plot construction. However, a new feeling for specific environment and a new interest in the development of the emotions produced new forces in opera, directed essentially towards the creation of dramatic tensions by musical means. Principally in pursuance of this aim, the plots drawn from novels were reduced to stock situations, allowing the music to come into its own. Significantly, no major composer set Manzoni’s I promessi sposi, the greatest Italian novel, whose complexity of events and non-tragic dénouement found no echo in operatic forms.

Though intrinsically less perfect than his comic works, Rossini’s serious operas contained greater potential for development. A fine thread connects Piccinni’s Cecchina and Paisiello’s Nina to the Desdemona of Rossini’s Otello and through her to the heroines of Bellini and Donizetti, in whose operas love – a love thwarted by outside circumstances – forms the nucleus of the plot. Rossini also pointed the way to action through music, by the regular transference of the ensemble from comic into tragic opera. All these composers aimed, in different ways, at dramatic consistency. Bellini’s dramatic sense, particularly strong in Norma, was not allowed to prejudice the supremacy of bel canto but permeated and combined with the great voices of the epoch, Pasta, Malibran and above all Rubini, for whom Bellini wrote the first typical Romantic tenor roles (e.g. Gualtiero in Il pirata, 1827). Donizetti and Mercadante, from 1835 onwards, reflected their concern for action and consistency in trenchant and pithy thematic material and in a melodic line immediately responsive to expressive demands; they, rather than Bellini, were the direct precursors of early Verdi.

The literary polemics between classical and romantic conceptions were also applied to music, dissolving into a series of artificial antitheses long current in Italian musical circles: melody (exclusively the heritage of Italy) and harmony (an oltremontana, i.e. German, quality), voice and orchestra, bel canto and canto declamato, idealized history and everyday reality. The debate between the traditionalists (who included men of letters such as Carlo Botta, Giuseppe Carpani and Felice Romani) and the innovators was still going on in 1836, when Giuseppe Mazzini published his Filosofia della musica, which proclaimed the ‘emancipation from Rossini’, the birth of a music-drama based on stronger moral principles, with greater chorus participation, and the decline of the typical situation drama with its soprano and tenor lovers separated by the baritone. The debate was echoed in 1847 by the poet Giuseppe Giusti, who advised Verdi, after the production of Macbeth at Florence (where the first Italian performances of Robert le diable and Der Freischütz had been given in 1840 and 1843 respectively) to leave such fantastic plots to northern artists.

The renewal of musical theatre advocated by Mazzini was achieved in the art of Verdi, who perfectly expressed the ideals of the second half of the century. Verdi triumphed in Milan at a time when La Scala was dominated by Bartolomeo Merelli and the power of Ricordi was increasing through the absorption of smaller firms and the foundation (in 1842, the year of Nabucco) of the Gazzetta musicale di Milano. Verdi learnt from Rossini, in particular from the choral grandeur of Mosè, which in hastier style and with more pressing rhythms he transferred to the Risorgimento operas Nabucco, I lombardi alla prima crociata and La battaglia di Legnano (the last named was performed in 1849 at Rome, which had been abandoned by the pope and was governed by the republicans Mazzini, Armellini and Saffi).

The years 1848–9 were a watershed in 19th-century Italian music, and not only because of the death of Donizetti. The war against Austria produced a crisis in theatrical life; fewer people attended, the number of performances decreased, and celebrated singers like Erminia Frezzolini and Eugenia Tadolini either worked abroad or lost confidence in the managements. The failure of the national revolution led to a neglect of heroic themes in favour of individual dramas in which conflict raged in the soul and not on the battlefield. This tendency achieved perfection in Verdi’s operas Rigoletto, Il trovatore and La traviata, produced at Venice and Rome between 1851 and 1853. The primacy of the individual seemed to herald a revival of the stories about individual characters such as had been treated by Bellini and Donizetti, but the ordering of events was no longer in the hands of a librettist such as Romani. The learned Salvadore Cammarano, librettist of Lucia di Lammermoor, could not understand the characterization of Azucena conceived by Verdi in Il trovatore; a librettist like F.M. Piave, willing to follow the composer’s wishes in supplanting the aria with the scena, was more useful. This broadened conception is realized in all three operas, but the subject of La traviata, with its contemporary setting, best illustrates the spirit of the 1850s, although it was considered a bad influence by the leaders of the Risorgimento, who preferred high-minded subjects and saw a dangerously complacent sentimentality in the choice of a fashionably consumptive courtesan as heroine.

Verdi’s ascendancy over Italy throughout the second half of the century is significantly based entirely on public acclaim; intellectual and cultural circles were not won over until much later (through the influence of Toscanini around 1920). The ‘classicists’ considered Verdi’s early operas ‘noisy’ because of their abuse of the chorus and of martial rhythms. In the middle years of his career, the writers Giuseppe Rovani and Carlo Dossi, from the Milanese milieu that formed the cradle of Verdi’s art, continued to prefer the operas of Rossini. The critic Basevi, who found Rigoletto’s physical deformity unacceptable, showed that strong classicist prejudice remained even in 1859. After about 1860 Verdi aroused opposition less in the traditionalists than in the younger generation, interested in the novelties of European music and attracted to the cultural and technical ambitions of Meyerbeer, the elegant precision of Gounod and the dramatic ideals of Wagner (whose music was still little known in Italy, apart from the overtures to Der fliegende Holländer and Tannhäuser).

During its early years (1861–70), the newly formed kingdom of Italy had naturally to stand comparison with other European countries and to discover by how much it lagged behind in the cultural and artistic fields. In spite of Verdi, there was much talk of decadence in opera and of the reforms needed in the management of theatres and schools. Musical education became a national responsibility, developing from seeds planted in northern Italy by the short-lived Napoleonic governments at the beginning of the century. The Milan Conservatory, which maintained high standards, was instituted in 1807 and set the pattern for conservatories founded in mid-century in Florence, Turin, Rome, Palermo, Venice and Bologna. It was a difficult time financially; in 1867 theatrical subventions were curtailed and taxes imposed on contracts and profits; the following year Broglio, the minister for education, drew up a scheme for an association to administer and direct the conservatories, with Rossini, then in the last year of his life, in Paris, as president. A similar commission, with Verdi as president, was set up in 1871 to reform the musical institutions. Even so, many young people felt that Italy could not satisfy their thirst for knowledge, and in 1861 Arrigo Boito and Franco Faccio went abroad with scholarships – a significant reversal of the trend that since the Renaissance had led students and scholars towards Italy.

As the music schools multiplied, there was a growing interest in chamber and symphonic music, mostly German; Germany, the country of technical excellence, was much admired by Italy in the 1870s, while political events caused a growing coldness towards France. In 1870 the critic Filippo Filippi published six reports in La perseveranza on the Wagner operas he had seen at Weimar; the following year at Bologna Angelo Mariani conducted Lohengrin, the first Wagner opera heard in Italy, which immediately aroused enthusiastic and polemical reactions throughout the country. A long-standing rivalry between Verdi and Wagner ensued. Essentially it was an extension of the traditional rivalry between opera and music drama, between voice and orchestra, between Italian and German music; unlike the otherwise similar dispute between Piccinni and Gluck, it was not carried on with 18th-century chivalry but, especially in the case of the rivalry between the two publishing houses Ricordi (Verdi’s publisher) and Lucca, with the insensitive hostility of modern business methods. The firm of Francesco Lucca, established in 1825, benefited greatly from the energies of Giovannina Strazza, wife of the founder. In opposition to Ricordi she too started (in 1847) a newspaper, L’Italia musicale; in an attempt to find an alternative to Verdi, she supported Mercadante, Pacini and other minor figures, including Salvi, Ricci and Petrella, and also zealously introduced into Italy the works of foreign composers, from Gounod, Halévy and Meyerbeer to Wagner.

Meanwhile, the more progressive of the generation of composers that followed Verdi and considered him outdated (though without specifically saying so), began to appear. The manifesto of this new movement, outlined by Boito in two articles that appeared in La perseveranza (1863–4), was summarized in four points: ‘the complete elimination of formula; the creation of form; the realization of the largest possible tonal and rhythmic development; the total embodiment of drama’. The practical realization of these aims was more tame, as was exemplified by Faccio’s Amleto (1865) and Boito’s Mefistofele (1868). Boito was a man of wide culture, the first Italian composer who was also an intellectual, and an adherent of the ‘Scapigliatura’, a forward-looking literary movement active in Milan. But in musical matters the ‘Scapigliati’ were Rossinians, while Boito’s modernism was largely intellectual; his covert antagonism to Verdi, therefore, changed quite naturally to sympathy and from 1881 to collaboration. Verdi, faced after 1860 with a transformation in Italian musical life, adopted two different attitudes – one a public resistance to innovation, the other a secret absorption of new ideas into his own operas, written at increasingly long intervals. After La traviata his choice of subjects, no longer confined to love, became much wider. Don Carlos, composed for Paris in 1867, is a more progressive work than either Amleto or Mefistofele, and its protagonist reflects more clearly than either of theirs the hectic excitement of the ‘Scapigliati’. Later the Messa da Requiem won over the Wagnerians, through Bülow. In his final operas, Otello and Falstaff, both on texts by Boito, Verdi banished all traces of closed form; in them he again confronted the basic myth of Romanticism, Shakespeare.

Verdi had no pupils and no real imitators. The opera composers who attempted, during the first years of Italian unity, to establish themselves in the small area left free by Verdi, all achieved one dazzling success that had no sequel. Filippo Marchetti’s Ruy Blas (1869) was produced at 60 theatres within two years; Il Guarany (1870), by the Brazilian composer Carlos Gomes, was admired by Verdi himself; after I goti (1873), Stefano Gobatti was for a short time hailed as ‘the new Verdi’; and Ponchielli’s La Gioconda (1876) was received, more justifiably, with exceptional enthusiasm that lasted longer. But none of these inaugurated a successful career for its composer, and all of them, despite a superficial similarity of dramatic content, differed from Verdi’s works in their ostentatious, neo-Romantic style or in their insistently picturesque detail. Even further from Verdi’s realism were those operas based on a different kind of plot: Antonio Bazzini’s Turanda (1867), coloured by the fairy-tale surrealism of Carlo Gozzi; Luigi Mancinelli’s Isora di Provenza (1884), produced at Bologna, the Wagnerian stronghold; and Loreley (1890) and La Wally (1892) by Alfredo Catalani, Bazzini’s pupil at Milan. In all these, and particularly Catalani’s, the spirit of northern fantasy crossed the Alps, and under the auspices of Wagnerian harmony it at last established a precarious foothold in Italian opera.

Wagner himself came to be better known; in 1883 the touring company managed by Angelo Neumann brought the Ring to Venice, Florence, Rome, Turin, Milan and Trieste. In 1888 the publishing house of Ricordi took over that of Lucca, and little by little the taste for novelty diminished. During the 1876–7 season Italian theatres still put on about 40 new operas, but public interest increasingly centred on successful works of the recent past, which were now the basis of the repertory. Innovation was regarded with scepticism, a sign of the decline of opera, at least in the sense of a common language uniting the musician and society, such as had prevailed at the beginning of the century. In the years immediately before the appearance of Puccini, the true face of the Italy of the time can be seen not in large-scale operas on historical subjects (which continued to appear, however) but in the salon song, a genre cultivated by refined singing teachers like Gaetano Palloni and Filippo Marchetti at Rome, Gaetano Braga at Milan, and the greatest of them all, Paolo Tosti, the darling of Roman aristocratic society until he settled in London in 1880. In his songs Tosti caught the flexible intimacy, the sentimental sheen characteristic of the age of King Umberto I behind its façade of pomp and grandeur (which inspired, for instance, the building of the Teatro Costanzi at Rome in 1880).

(ii) Church music.

Church music was the least popular genre for the 19th-century Italian composer. Certainly a large quantity was written, not only by minor composers, for use in worship, but also, less prolifically, by most of the major figures; but its prestige in Italian society reached a low level during the century, and began to rise again only with Perosi. The explanation lies partly in the ‘religiosity’ of Romanticism, hostile to codified systems and more sympathetic to secular forms such as opera, where monasteries, convents and religious choruses are frequent elements; and partly in the particular circumstances of Italy, where political and cultural progress, inspired by the laity, found an obstacle in the Church of Rome, no longer the symbol of a universal religion but a state within a state. This accentuated the growth of two different styles, both already apparent in the previous century: the academic and the theatrical. The stronghold of the academic style was still the Cappella Sistina, where first Baini and then Alfieri maintained the tradition. It continued in current practice for even longer, although increasingly as a means of learning composition, or as a student’s exercise useful for winning a scholarship (as Catalani and Puccini did) to Milan, the capital of opera. Above this didactic level, the adoption of operatic language and vocal style was customary. The most prolific writers of church music were often opera composers who had withdrawn from the theatrical battlefield, like Generali, Vaccai or Carlo Coccia, who produced mainly masses with orchestral or organ accompaniment; while the sacred masterpieces of the century, including Cherubini’s masses (in particular the two Requiem masses written in Paris), Rossini’s Stabat mater and Petite messe solennelle and Verdi’s Requiem, were all written by the leading opera composers.

It is symptomatic that in 1838 Pope Gregory XVI invited Spontini, rather than Baini or any other member of the Cappella Sistina, to compile a report on the decline of sacred music in Italy. The pervasive influence of the operatic style even penetrated the field most firmly closed to outside interference, organ music, as the works of Giacomo Davide of Bergamo and V.A. Petrali show. No consciousness of a need for reform or for the preservation of early church music was apparent until the last decades of the century, when in 1877 G. Amelli, inspired by the Cecilian movement, founded the periodical Musica sacra and the Associazione Italiana di S Cecilia.

(iii) Instrumental music.

Instrumental music, although to a lesser degree, also served primarily as a training ground for those composers aspiring to operatic success, while the instrument typifying 19th-century Romanticism, the piano, was the chief medium through which opera reached a large section of the public, in transcriptions, fantasias, variations and arrangements of the most popular numbers. The influence of operatic style was paramount here as well. Until 1850 aspects of the 18th-century situation persisted to some extent, with the greatest composers working outside Italy. Milan was still a centre for instrumental music, but the only figure of international repute based in Italy was Paganini, who was self-taught and was a native of the north, where the traditions of violin-playing were strongest. While Paganini’s activity led him all over Europe between 1828 and 1834, other violinists returned to work in Italy after the Napoleonic era; they were second-rate composers, who had benefited from an exposure to European culture during long periods abroad, and it was due also to F.A. Radicati (in Bologna), Ferdinando Giorgetti (in Florence) and G.B. Polledro (in Turin) that the taste for chamber music did not die out altogether.

The decade from 1850 was the emptiest as regards instrumental music, the revival of which from about 1860 thus seemed to start from nothing. The various Italian court cappelle, whose activity was already much reduced, were swept away soon after the proclamation of the Kingdom of Italy (1861). They were succeeded by the philharmonic societies and other private associations founded by members of the aristocracy or the middle class, which became the centres of an instrumental culture. As if aware that a great deal of lost territory needed recovering, this culture began with the works of Beethoven, which did not become generally known throughout the country until the 1860s, a delay of 50 years that had far-reaching consequences. To meet the new demand, Ricordi published several major collections, including La biblioteca del pianista and L’arte antica e moderna. Meanwhile a network of quartet societies rapidly spread over Italy, reaching Florence in 1861 (after the Beethoven concerts promoted by Basevi), Milan and Turin in the 1860s, Palermo in 1871 and Bologna in 1879. The growing interest in symphonic music (at Florence the publisher Guidi printed early pocket scores) led to the foundation of the Società Filarmonica at Naples in 1867, the Concerti Popolari at Turin in 1872 and the Società Orchestrale Romana in 1874. It was a natural, although over-simplified, consequence to ally this ferment of activity to the Wagnerian and progressive schools and to see it as an alternative to the Italian operatic tradition; so another rigid barrier, supported by the authoritative voice of Verdi, for whom Italian music was naturally ‘vocal’, was erected between operatic music, favoured by the vast majority, and instrumental (or ‘classical’) music, preferred only by a minority but associated with the qualities of culture and progress.

Celebrated soloists, including the violinist Camillo Sivori, the cellist Alfredo Piatti and the double bass player Giovanni Bottesini wrote chamber music or concertos for their own instruments in the intervals between concert tours abroad. Bazzini, after many years in Leipzig and Paris, settled in Milan; although he too chiefly composed music for the violin, or chamber music, he also attempted the symphonic style in the overtures Saul and Re Lear. Stefano Golinelli (at Bologna, from 1840), whose Studi op.15 were praised by Schumann, and the brothers Disma and Adolfo Fumagalli (at Milan), composers of many small pieces, studies and operatic fantasies, all concentrated on the piano; the two leading instrumental composers of the period, Giovanni Sgambati (in Rome) and Giuseppe Martucci (at Bologna and Naples), were also trained as pianists. Probably the first 19th-century Italians to eschew opera without exhibiting an inferiority complex, they attempted all forms of chamber and symphonic music, as well as songs; their works for solo piano in particular include, especially in the case of Martucci, pieces that surpass the dimensions of ‘album leaves’ and attempt extended forms. In spite of frequent references to the early Romantics (more than to Wagner and Brahms, whom they knew personally and intended to imitate), Sgambati and Martucci undoubtedly mark an important stage in the renascence of Italian instrumental music.

(iv) Musicology.

The attempts to re-establish ties with European musical culture were also fruitful in historical studies. Basevi’s critical activities at Florence; Angelo Catelani’s research into Renaissance and Baroque music in the archives at Modena; the historical compilations by Francesco Florimo on the Neapolitan and by Francesco Caffi on the Venetian schools; the foundation, in 1894, of the Rivista musicale italiana; Oscar Chilesotti’s editions of lute and guitar tablatures; Amintore Galli’s Estetica della musica, an ambitious attempt to realize an Italian history of music through analyses of works; and the output of Gaetano Cesari, whose research on the origin of the madrigal was the first of a series of basic studies on Italian music and who was the leading figure behind Ricordi’s publication of Istituzioni e Monumenti dell’Arte Musicale Italiana: all are signs that Italian culture had begun to observe its musical past in a new, historically conscious perspective.

4. Other vocal repertories.

(v) Cultural systems and aesthetics.

In the age of Rossini the dominant musical aesthetic was neo-classicism, informing the writings of Gervasoni, Majer, Carpani, Asioli and Leopardi, and encapsulated by Rossini himself in 1868. At the root of this lay the concept of the bello ideale, the ‘beautiful ideal’, which embraced a number of ideas: the predominance of melody (‘cantilena’); aesthetic pleasure, with the composer’s goal being to ‘please in music’ (Carpani); music as a ‘moral atmosphere’ in which the characters represented the action (Rossini) or as a generic expression of emotions, but not as a concrete expression of the drama; and ‘symmetries’ of forms (Asioli): the melodic line did not have the power to adapt to ‘characteristics’, ‘moods’, ‘action’ or ‘concepts’, but had an architectural value, serving as the principle that justified formal conventions.

The Romanticism of the Risorgimento and the era of Mazzini shattered this aesthetic edifice: from the 1830s onwards Victor Hugo’s Cromwell, Hernani and Le roi s’amuse were interpreted as spurs to political redemption. In his La filosofia della musica (1836) Mazzini put forward a series of statements which summed up the historical moment: the ‘committed’ composer cannot restrict himself to writing ‘notes and chords’, but must ‘understand the vast influence which [opera] could exercise on society … not renounce the idea in favour of the form’; ‘progressive’ operatic music must abandon the rigid rules of the classicists, to take on characteristic tinte and ‘historical reality’; the idea of opera as entertainment must change to one of opera as a mission; the chorus, which portrays the people, must be used more. Mazzini’s Filosofia reflected the state of Italian opera in the 1830s: new subjects taken from Schiller, Hugo, Shakespeare, Byron and Dumas père; the expansion of formal conventions, replacing ‘ideal singing’ with ‘declaimed singing’; and the contrast between the individual and the chorus.

According to Mazzini, Donizetti’s Maria Stuarda, Marin Faliero and Lucrezia Borgia were the greatest examples of ‘social opera’. In his preface to Lucrezia Borgia, the librettist Felice Romani provided a snapshot of the cultural conditions of the years before the appearance of Verdi: extremes (‘physical [and] moral deformity … dark subject matter’), violation of the Artistotelian unities, mixed genres, characteristic verbal (but not yet musical) language (‘the Poet must conceal himself and let the characters speak their own language’), distortions of form and of versification in accordance with the musico-dramatic ‘metre and outline’.

In the revised edition of his Filosofia (1861) Mazzini substituted Meyerbeer for Donizetti as the representative of ‘social opera’. During the same period Basevi recognized in Meyerbeer ‘the living expression of the new requirements’. In his Studio sulle opere di Giuseppe Verdi (1859) Basevi defined the new trend in Italian musical aesthetics as ‘eclecticism’: the fusion of foreign influences and national tradition, of which Verdi was the greatest exponent, despite his proclamations of self-sufficiency. In the years around 1860 musical criticism received a boost, with the trenchant writings of Boito, Basevi, Filippi, Biaggi, Mazzucato, D’Arcais and Depanis actively influencing composers in their search for a ‘new ideal’.

After the 1860s this eclecticism was linked to the desire for a greater knowledge of musical history and of music from abroad: the effect was a multiplication of styles and techniques in opera, from the comic to the tragic, great public scenes to the intimate display of private passions, from Meyerbeer’s technique of recurring themes to Berlioz’s réunion des thèmes and techniques derived from Wagner and Massenet. Linked to this diversity of styles were plots with an all-embracing, epic sweep: the greatest example is La forza del destino, but the same tendencies can be seen in Mefistofele, La Gioconda and Carlos Gomes’s Il Guarany. The inclusion of scenes incidental to the main plot has suggested a parallel with the discursiveness characteristic of the 19th-century novel.

A contemporary of Italian grand opera in the 1860s and 70s was the Scapigliatura movement in Milan, to which Boito, Faccio, Ghislanzoni and Giulio Ricordi were all linked. To Boito goes the credit for having established an openness to European culture and a new historical awareness, but one can also see in him the reaction of a cultivated man to the popularizing trends typical of the new Italy. In this phase new artistic and intellectual currents did not always run in parallel with the tastes of the broader public, dedicated to the consumption of repertory opera. Cultural exclusivity, the distance from an audience to which the artist no longer feels instinctively bound, gave rise to the idea of the ‘avant garde’; this is the source of Boito’s denial of traditional ‘formulas’.

In the last three decades of the century musical taste seems to have been led by the increasingly affluent middle class. But those who really set new trends belonged to a small professional élite, in particular the ‘Milanese monopoly’ of the publisher Ricordi who in 1888 took over his rival publisher Lucca. Newspapers of the day contrasted the ‘mass success’ of Meyerbeer against the ‘élite success’ of Wagner; Verdi’s operas from Ernani to Aida were popular successes, while Otello did not escape the charge of intellectualism (which in part reflects Verdi’s own desire). Works of value were not directly subject to public judgment, as Verdi, with false ingenuousness, wished, but were now selected by a new professional class made up of intellectuals (Boita, Filippi and others) and businessmen (Ricordi, Sonzogno).

Popularization and specialization: this aesthetic duality was seen, on the one hand, in the growth of bands, of amateur choirs, the advent of operetta (after 1870) and grandiose stage productions; and, on the other, in the increase in concert-giving and the aestheticism of cultural fashions. The difficulty of bridging this dichotomy has condemned many works created in the last 30 years of the century to oblivion: it is not surprising that between Aida and Otello the only two operas to have remained in the repertory are Mefistofele and La Gioconda, representing the outer limits of the symbiosis between the two; the first tending towards intellectualism, the second towards popular appeal. The Giovane Scuola and so-called verismo opera were a success because of this aesthetic eclecticism and not as a popular reaction against it: while its components can still be identified as symbols of an Italian musical nature, their success rests on an intensive assimilation of foreign influences. The ‘international’ Puccini is the interpreter of the profound weakness of the Italian educated classes, who unconsciously found themselves dependent on foreign cultures. The reconstruction of an Italian cultural and musical identity, never before really questioned, was the principal goal of the earliest musicologists (Torchi, Chilesotti, Torrefranca) and the composers of the Generazione dell’Ottanta – the generation of the 1880s.

Italy, §I: Art music

7. 20th century.

The development of Italian opera around the turn of the century was affected by continued rivalries between influential publishers. After the absorption of Lucca in 1888, Sonzogno quickly became the new rival of Ricordi, especially after Mascagni’s spectacular success with Cavalleria rusticana (1890). Other young Italian composers taken up by Sonzogno included Leoncavallo, Giordano and Cilea, and the firm also brought important new foreign operas to Italy, starting with the Italian première of Carmen (1879). Ricordi responded not only by competing for the works of Sonzogno’s ‘discoveries’ (publishing, for example, Mascagni’s Iris) but above all by launching and supporting Puccini. All these composers were influenced by their publishers’ rivalries, and there were others less fortunate who, by failing to win adequate support from either firm, were deprived of the opportunity for operatic success in Italy: victims of such ostracism included Smareglia (a gifted Wagnerian) and Wolf-Ferrari, whose vivacious comic operas became far better known in Germany.

The opera composers supported at this time by Ricordi and Sonzogno are often referred to as the veristi. But relatively few of their works in fact followed the fashion for verismo subjects set by Cavalleria rusticana: even Mascagni’s own subsequent output, in its search for variety of subject matter at all costs, typifies, instead, that ‘poetica del diverso’ reflected also in the strong contrasts between successive Puccini operas. In Luigi Baldacci’s words, ‘for Donizetti and the young Verdi the idea of opera corresponded to a precise and direct demand from society. In Mascagni’s time, however, the demand no longer came directly from society but from the publicity business, which had to astound the public with a continuous series of theatrical ‘sensations’ – thus combating audiences’ tendency to rest content with successful operas from the recent past. Puccini, alone among the Italian opera composers who became prominent in the 1890s, had enough imagination and personality to turn the situation to his advantage: the others did not adequately follow up their early successes, but he continued to develop creatively and receptively until his death.

There were no unifying features in Italian opera in the decade before World War I. While naturalism and verismo were in decline, there emerged a spirit of pluralism that embraced the later works of Puccini (La fanciulla del West, 1910; Il trittico, 1918), Giordarno’s Mese Mariano (1910) and Madame Sans-Gêne (1915), the restless eclecticism of Mascagni (Le maschere, 1901; Lodoletta, 1917) and the Goldoni-based regionalism of Wolf-Ferrari (Le donne curiose, 1903; I quatro rusteghi, 1906). Through the pervasive influence of Gabriele D’Annunzio, elements of French decadence (sensualism, aestheticism, exoticism and archaism) gained broad currency in Italian opera of the period. The D’Annunzian taste for archaism influenced the revival of pre-19th-century Italian instrumental music and stimulated the growth of Italian musicology. The first Italian chair in the history of music was created at Rome University in 1913. The nationalist ideology underpinning the view of Italy’s musical past was also revealed in Torrefranca’s anti-Puccini pamphlet Giacomo Puccini e l’opera internazionale (1912) and in the series Classica della musica italiana (1917), established with the participation of G.F. Malipiero and D’Annunzio.

Meanwhile Italian instrumental music was still gaining in importance after being marginalized in the 19th century, and was relatively free from the commercialization that affected opera, since it addressed mainly the select audiences of the orchestral and chamber music societies. By 1900 the composing careers of Sgambati and Martucci were almost over, culminating in Martucci’s Second Symphony (1904), which G.F. Malipiero called ‘the starting point of the renascence of non-operatic Italian music’. Before the composers of the ‘generazione dell’ottanta’ (the generation born around 1880) became established, various other instrumental composers were active. Marco Enrico Bossi drew on both the contrapuntal traditions of his native Bologna and the 19th-century German symphonic tradition, while Leone Sinigaglia wrote the earliest significant Italian works systematically based on folk music. Notable, too, are the orchestral and chamber works of Giacomo Orefice, Amilcare Zanella, Francesco Paolo Neglia and Alessandro Longo. The most widely successful non-operatic compositions during these years were, however, Perosi’s naive and eclectic oratorios. More progressive trends usually met with apathy or open hostility in Italy, and few Italian musicians born before 1875 shared Puccini’s receptivity to new ideas. Symptomatic of the situation was the predicament of Busoni, by far the most adventurous Italian composer of the time: in 1913, after many years abroad, he became director of the Bologna Liceo Musicale, hoping to lead a revolution in Italian music; but he found himself surrounded by indifference and obstructive bureaucracy and soon gave up the struggle, resigning himself to permanent exile.

By then, however, a new generation of Italian artists was already groping towards new ideals, some of which were foreshadowed in the many-sided activities and interests of D’Annunzio. The most aggressive and notorious of these newcomers were the futurists, who achieved more in literature and (especially) the visual arts than in music, though Luigi Russolo’s ‘noise machines’ have a notable place in the prehistory of musique concrète. The innovatory trends centring on the Florentine cultural periodical La voce (1908–16), with which Pizzetti and Giannotto Bastianelli were associated, were less barren where music is concerned. But the main sparking-point for new musical developments came in 1915, with the return to Italy from France of Alfredo Casella, who then for over two decades remained the leading figure (though not the most important composer) in the modernization of Italian music. Casella’s Società Italiana di Musica Moderna (1917–19) provided a platform for young composers of widely varying aims, including most of the main members of the ‘generazione dell’ottanta’: Pizzetti, Respighi, G.F. Malipiero, Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Gui and even the seemingly traditional Zandonai (regarded by Ricordi as Puccini’s heir-apparent), were all members of the society, although they never in the full sense formed a ‘school’. Later, indeed, they tended to drift apart until, on 17 December 1932, Pizzetti, Respighi and Zandonai joined with various lesser composers in signing the notorious ‘Manifesto dei dieci’ attacking the progressive trends of the time. Meanwhile, undeterred by the break-up of his first circle of collaborators, Casella (together with Malipiero and Labroca, with enthusiastic encouragement from D’Annunzio) founded the Corporazione delle Nuove Musiche (1923–8), which aimed to bring to Italy ‘the latest expressions and the most recent researches of contemporary musical art’ – promoting performances of, for example, Pierrot lunaire (conducted by Schoenberg) and Stravinsky’s The Wedding in many Italian cities. It was appropriate that the organization soon became closely bound up with the ISCM.

The creative results of this ferment of new developments range from the archaic nobility of Pizzetti’s choral pieces and the picturesque orchestration of Respighi’s tone poems to Casella’s aggressively dissonant ‘second manner’ and Malipiero’s hauntingly idiosyncratic theatrical experiments. It becomes increasingly clear, with historical perspective, that Malipiero was the most original of these composers, for all his unevenness (Dallapiccola even called him ‘the most important personality that Italy has had since the death of Verdi’). Moreover, his close involvement with early Italian music, which bore musicological fruit in his complete edition of Monteverdi (1926–42) as well as influencing his style, is the most conspicuous example of that preoccupation with the remoter past which also affected other composers of the time. This growing awareness, thanks to the recent research of musicologists, that Italian music had once been far more versatile, and less dominated by a frankly popular opera tradition, than it had become by the 19th century, was an important stimulus to the ‘generazione dell’ottanta’ in reacting against their immediate predecessors.

Under fascism the modernization of Italian music was to some extent held back by political pressures. But there was never a systematic censorship of the arts on Nazi lines (apart from the banning of works by Jews when Mussolini adopted Hitler’s race policies in 1938); and the press was as likely to attack music for being insufficiently Italian as for being radical in idiom. More new organizations were created to promote new works and to revive early music; notable among these were the Teatro di Torino (1925–31; established by G.M. Gatti), the Venice Festival Internazionale di Musica Contemporanea (1930), the Maggio Musicale Fiorentino (1933) and the Teatro delle Novità in Bergamo (1937). Italy’s relative cultural freedom, even in the very year of the Pact of Steel, is well illustrated by the fact that Casella, though a naively convinced fascist himself, could prominently feature Schoenberg’s music at the 1937 Venice Festival. Moreover, an exceptionally open-minded and informative periodical, founded in 1920 by Gatti as Il pianoforte and renamed La rassegna musicale in 1928, provided a crucially important antidote to narrow-minded provincialism. Nevertheless, a recognizably mussoliniano spirit of assertive, rather bombastic optimism, which represents a retrograde step after the promising developments of a few years earlier, undeniably found expression in certain works of the time, including Casella’s Concerto romano (1926) and Malipiero’s Inni (1932). In the 1920s a strain of petit-bourgeois sentimentality contributed to the popularity of operettas by such composers as Mario Costa, Giuseppe Petri and Virgilio Ranzato.

Public responses to this rapidly changing scene were variable: as in most countries, the mass of the musical population turned its back on modern developments and continued to support established favourites. In the 1930s opera declined in popularity as audiences turned to the cinema for entertainment. The progressive musical idiom and dramaturgy of works such as Malipiero’s Torneo notturno (1929) and Casella’s La donna serpente (1932) had no lasting influence, and the majority of operas, including Respighi’s La fiamma (1934) and works by Franco Alfano, Giuseppe Mulé, Adriano Lualdi, Luigi Ferrari Trecate, Felice Lattuada, Licinio Refice and Ludovico Rocca, adhered to traditional styles and techniques. But a new, more cultivated and receptive audience was growing up, and the extreme hostility which had surrounded the activities of the Società Italiana di Musica Moderna gradually subsided, though the audience for modern music, and for serious music of any kind other than opera, remains smaller in Italy than in some other countries. (Here a persistent reluctance, by the devisers of school and even university curricula, to give music an adequate place in a normal education outside the conservatories has much to answer for.) Among music publishers, Ricordi has retained a dominating position in Italian musical life; but the firm’s former overwhelming preoccupation with popular operatic success had by the 1930s given place to a more open-minded policy. Meanwhile relatively new publishing houses like Carisch and (especially) Suvini Zerboni became increasingly associated with contemporary music; and the growing importance of the radio as an outlet for music of all kinds helped to put Italian composers into a situation very different from that of their predecessors at the turn of the century. However, a great disadvantage, impeding their progress on the international scene, has been the limited resources and extreme caution of Italian record companies: the exceptional paucity of Italian commercial recordings of modern music, and a seemingly incurable dilatoriness in their distribution (even at home, let alone abroad), has been one of the most important reasons why so many recent Italian composers have failed to win world reputations commensurate with their stature.

The generation of composers who appeared in the 1930s reaped many benefits from the achievements (both creative and practical) of the ‘generazione dell’ottanta’. Composers who made their mark at this period included Vittorio Rieti, Antonio Veretti, Virgilio Mortari, Mario Pilati and Sandro Fuga. Much the most important of these newcomers were Dallapiccola and Petrassi, though Salviucci might have risen to comparable eminence but for his early death, and the rather older Ghedini reached a belated, highly individual maturity in his best music of the 1940s. Dallapiccola has won greater international renown than Petrassi, thanks partly to the powerful human appeal of ‘protest’ works like the Canti di prigionia (1941) and Il prigioniero (1948) and partly to his outstandingly sensitive adaptation of 12-note technique in terms of Italian sensibility. Petrassi, however, has in the long run proved the more adventurous composer: after 1955 drastic stylistic developments brought him unexpectedly close to the post-war avant garde.

As the 1940s progressed, several slightly younger composers, including Riccardo Nielsen, Riccardo Malipiero, Roman Vlad, Gino Contilli and the former disciple of Zandonai, Mario Peragallo, turned with varying strictness to 12-note technique, as did other, still younger men (Togni, Nono, Maderna) who were to become prominent post-war radicals. In turning to dodecaphony, these composers were inspired partly by Dallapiccola’s example and partly by a need to reject the more parochial aspects of the music of the fascist period. An important milestone in Italy’s reception of 12-note technique was the first Congresso Internazionale per la Musica Dodecafonica, held in Milan in 1949. From this time thoroughgoing post-Webern and other avant-garde trends attracted growing followings among Italian musicians. Encouraged by an exhilarating sense of release, after the constrictions of the fascist and war years, many young composers visited, or drew inspiration from, such centres of new musical enterprise as Cologne and Darmstadt, and before long comparable ventures were launched in Italy. In 1955 Berio and Maderna founded the Studio di Fonologia Musicale attached to the Milan branch of RAI, and Maderna in particular played a major part (as teacher and conductor as well as composer) in making new methods and creative attitudes known south of the Alps. The development of electronic music in Italy began with the work of the RAI Studio di Fonologia Musicale in Milan. In 1960 the composer Pietro Grossi founded the S2FN sound studio in Florence; and computer music centres, generally within universities, subsequently appeared in Pisa (CNUCE, 1969), Milan (IJM, 1975), Padua (Centro di Sonologia Computazionale, 1979), where the composer Alvise Vidolin, among others, has worked, and Naples (ACEL, 1979), where the physicist Giuseppe di Giugno, who has worked at IRCAM in Paris, and the composer Fausto Razzi have been active. Berio founded the Tempo Reale centre in Florence in 1987, while the AGON laboratory was established by Luca Francesconi in Milan in 1990. A new festival (the Settimana Internazionale di Nuova Musica), which specialized more specifically in avant-garde music than Venice did, was held at irregular intervals at Palermo from 1960 to 1968; and the Nuova Consonanza performances at Rome, presided over by Evangelisti from 1961, were another important platform for adventurous composers, both Italian and foreign.

Only a very small number of works of the new Italian avant garde of the 1950s and 60s has entered the repertory of the concert-giving institutions, which remain rooted in the music of the past. Those that have done so include Berio’s Folksongs (1964), Sinfonia (1969) and some of his Sequenzas (from 1958). Scores like Nono’s Il canto sospeso (1956), Maderna’s Serenata no.2 (1957), Clementi’s Informels (1961–3), Donatoni’s Puppenspiel (1961) and theatrical works such as Berio’s Passaggio (1962), Nono’s Intolleranza 1960, Manzoni’s Atontod (1965), Bussotti’s La passion selon Sade (1965–6), Evangelisti’s Die Schachtel (1966) and Guaccero’s Rappresentazione et esercizio (1968) remain important examples of a phase in Italian music that has been largely neglected by the country’s muscial institutions.

Like their predecessors, the leading members of this new generation are individualists, who have never in any full sense formed a ‘school’, despite certain shared techniques and attitudes. Their total achievement ranges wide, from the colourful, very Italian lyricism of Maderna and the restless, dynamic textures of Franco Donatoni to the kaleidoscopic capriciousness of Niccolò Castiglioni, the provocative, idiosyncratic extravaganzas of Bussotti and the outwardly static yet subtly shifting ‘continuum’ techniques of Aldo Clementi.

The new musical avant garde has required new performers. From this point of view Italian composers have benefited from the work done by performers interested in and sensitive to new music such as Pietro Scarpini, Sergio Panazzi, Cathy Berberian, Severino Gazzelloni, Bruno Canino, Antonio Ballista, Maurizio Pollini and Giancarlo Cardini. After the student revolts and social protests of 1968, the 1970s saw the encouragement of the new avant garde, linked to the growth of the PCI (Italian Communist Party), which supported its development.

New ventures and festivals dedicated to contemporary music were founded in the 1970s and 80s, among them Musica nel Nostro Tempo in Milan (1975), the Settembre Musica and Festival Antidogma in Turin, the Festival Pontino in Latina (1977), the Festival Nuovi Spazi Musicali in Rome (1978), the Festival G.A.M.O. in Florence (1980) and the Festival Spaziomusica in Cagliari (1982). The RAI supported the output of new music through its four symphony orchestras (Turin, Milan, Rome, Naples) and the Third Programme on the radio. Composers who emerged at this period include Francesco Pennisi (La lune offensée, 1971–2; Carteggio, 1976), Armando Gentilucci (Canti di Majakovskij, 1970; Trama, 1977), Salvatore Sciarrinio (… da un divertimento, 1970; Amore e Psiche, 1973) and Adriano Guarnieri (Mystère, 1978; Poesia in forma di rosa, 1979).

The 1980s saw a renewed interest in opera and the creation of theatrical works by leading figures such as Aldo Clementi (Es, 1981), Berio (Un re in ascolto, 1984) and Nono (Prometeo, 1984), in addition to operas by composers born in the 1950s such as Lorenzo Ferrero (Mare nostro, 1985) and Marco Tutino (Cirano, 1987). The latter represented a postmodern neo-Romantic outlook, violently opposed to the values of the avant garde and committed to re-establishing communication between composer and audience and to the fertilization of art music by popular music.

In the 1980s and 90s the public sector in Italy progressively retreated from involvement in contemporary music, with the closure of the RAI choirs and orchestras in Naples, Rome and Milan, a reduced amount of new music in RAI programming and the closure of many local ventures. After Casa Ricordi was taken over by BMG (1994) and reorganized, the company’s commitment to contemporary music was much diminished. Despite this negative picture, however, Italian music at the start of the 21st century is represented by a lively group of composers with an international reputation, foremost among them Giorgio Battistelli, Mauro Cardi, Marco Di Bari, Stefano Gervasoni, Ivan Fedele, Luca Francesconi, Giuseppe Soccio, Alessandro Solbiati and Marco Stroppa.

Italy, §I: Art music

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Italy

II. Traditional music

1. General features.

2. Narrative singing.

3. Lyrical singing.

5. Music in ritual.

6. Dances and instruments.

1. General features.

Oral musical traditions were first studied in Italy in the 19th century. The earliest scholars to approach this repertory were folklorists (including Costantino Nigra, Alessandro D'Ancona, Antonio Casetti, Vittorio Imbriani and Giuseppe Ferraro) who made extensive collections of song-texts, suggested the first classifications of genres and prevalent metrical forms and occasionally provided some musical examples. The first half of the 20th century saw the appearance of some noteworthy studies of specific musical repertories by Alberto Favara, Giulio Fara, Luigi Colacicchi, Giorgio Nataletti and Alfredo Bonaccorsi, among others, but it was only after World War II that comprehensive documentation of the oral musical tradition got under way. Fieldwork initiated in 1954 by Alan Lomax and Diego Carpitella and carried out throughout the entire country by several scholars during the following decades has led to the production of about 200 LPs and CDs since 1954. In the 1950s Ernesto De Martino undertook important research into the rituals of funeral mourning in Lucania and tarantism in Puglia, which marked the establishment of musical anthropology in Italy. But it was only from the 1970s that a body of scientific literature developed in Italy exploring various aspects of the traditional repertory and musical life.

It goes without saying that while the research was being undertaken, profound changes in musical life were taking place in tandem with fundamental changes in the country’s social and economic conditions. Growing industrialization led to the abandoning of many traditional farming and pastoral activities and an increase in urbanization; more recently immigration from other European countries, North Africa and Asia has occurred. Many traditional music practices became obsolete, entire repertories fell into disuse, and where music was preserved, it was often associated with the shoring up of cultural identity in individual communities and the need to hold on to alternatives to mass-produced music. Unlike other European countries, Italy saw the appearance of no broad initiatives, either in the mass media or under state auspices, to promote oral musical traditions, nor is there any folk music genre or idiom that is felt to express national identity. The musical picture is one of great diversity and creative independence; there is a rich variety of types of expression, which generally highlight specific regional quality. In summarizing these conditions it is worth examining the main elements of the various musical practices, keeping in mind that under discussion here are the principal repertories for which there is documentation, regardless of their current state of survival.

First of all, vocal repertories are differentiated in linguistic terms by their texts. Three different linguistic levels are used in songs: Italian (a highly literary, courtly version, far removed from the current spoken language, as evidenced in printed publications from the end of the 15th century), and generally reserved for public repertories, such as canto in ottava rima or the Maggio drammatico; dialect (generally not the local dialect, but an artificial language which draws elements of the regional dialect into the local version), and mainly used for private pieces such as lullabies and dirges; and a mixed Italian-dialect language, used in many repertories. Still on a textual level, many types of metre are in use, with lines of 11 syllables prevalent in central-southern Italy, and the epic-lyric metre (with a variable number of syllables organized in two hemistiches, one plain, and the other truncated) in the northern ballad repertory. Poetic forms are generally strophic, and display a wide variety of different ways of elaborating the text, many of them highly sophisticated, with the occasional inclusion of added elements (refrains, nonsense syllables).

As to the relationship between the verbal and musical text and the processes of production and performance, two different systems can be observed. The first is based on the composition, transmission and performance of poetic-musical entities which can be defined as ‘songs’ in the strictest sense, possessing an identity and completeness that is both verbal and melodic. These ‘songs’ are not tied to a place and a distinct group of performers, but can be found in different areas and among different communities; performers who absorb them into their own repertory can elaborate them and create variant forms. In contrast, the second system does not recognize identifiable poetic-musical entities that can be circulated as such; instead it is based on creative actions that make an impromptu union of text and music, using a ‘way of singing’ specific to a social group or geographical zone, or both, whose realization is based on principles shared by the whole community. A wide variety of texts can be performed according to such ‘ways of singing’, which are improvisatory in character. Neither system is specific to a single song genre, and each can be employed alternately by the same performers, but in general the first is prevalent in the north, the second in the south. As to instrumental music, a further division can be observed between a musical idiom based on closed forms and organized into more or less regular harmonic and melodic phrases (typical of northern Italian violin music, for example), and one based on open, improvisatory forms, where the musical discourse uses a series of processes including repetition, variation and the connection of elements which may have no phrase-like character (as can often be found in southern instrumental music and, in particular, in the repertory of the launneddas).

Several scholars have attempted to classify Italian folk music by area, from the point of view of vocal style and musical idiom (Lomax 1955–6; Leydi 1973, 1980, 1990), but as knowledge has increased of the many vocal styles, instrumental traditions, musical idioms and vocal polyphonic practices to be found in the country, it has become more and more difficult to define areas of substantially similar characteristics. For this reason material is treated here according to genre, stressing the content, use and function of musical practices, with some indications of musical characteristics and geographical location. The distinctive music of Sardinia, however, is treated separately.

2. Narrative singing.

Several principal narrative repertories can be identified: the ballad in the oral tradition, traditionally a major presence in the north, becoming increasingly rare towards the south; the broadside ballad (found in the north and centre); the narrative song in ottava rima (in central Italy); and the southern storia. Some types of religious songs, like the orazioni and Sicilian orbi songs, are also narrative pieces.

The repertory which has received the most attention, starting with Nigra's classic Canti popolari del Piemonte (1888) is that of the ballad, whose links to the great European repertory extend even to the inclusion of some examples in variant forms. The Italian ballad is cast in epic-lyric metre (unusually, in central to southern Italy, in lines of 11 syllables), it is strophic (using many different forms), specific texts and melodies are closely linked, and there are variant versions. Ballad narratives have the following main features: the action is stripped to its essentials, concentrating only on the most salient episodes with details omitted, the approach is emotionally detached, there is a non-linear presentation of time, action is dramatized (sometimes giving rise to theatrical presentation, in the Pavia Apennines, Canavese and Loranzè), much use is made of dialogue and the focus is on a number of principal themes, dealing with relationships between men and women.

In Italy ballads have been documented as an essentially female repertory, and the very circulation of ballads and creation of variants can be linked to the mobility of women under the virilocal system found in the north, the fact that women lived together within multiple family households in the old peasant society, and the practice of singing during women's collective work. Ballads can thus be considered the product of a totally female way of representing and interpreting reality, expressing women's perceptions of themselves and how they relate to the world. In peasant society in the past, ballads both had a strong educational role in transmitting models of values and behaviour, and helped to develop imaginative activity. Italian ballads essentially present women's stories, and through these symbolic tales they represent the woman's world view in past peasant society, which stresses female weakness in the face of strength, violence and authority of men, honour as the main socially recognized value of women, death as the likely consequence of legal and moral transgressions. The narratives concentrate on a small number of principal themes: 1. Violence done by a man to a woman (e.g. Gli anelli, Nigra 6); 2. Women betrayed by men (e.g. Cecilia, Nigra 3); 3. Forbidden love (e.g. Fior di tomba, Nigra 19); 4. Virtuous girls (e.g. La prova, Nigra 54); 5. Women who break the law (e.g. Donna lombarda, Nigra 1, the most famous of all Italian ballads).

Musical analysis suggests that in the past the ballad repertory was dominated by the practice of two-voice singing; the music examples given by Nigra in 1888 suggest that this was already commonplace in the 19th century. Not only have ballads sung by two voices in parallel 3rds been documented (ex.1), but a large repertory exists of melodies that derive from singing in 3rds where only the lower part, ending on the tonic, or the upper part, ending on the third degree of a major scale, has been retained. As well as this repertory, linked to collective performing practice, there are also ballads that are clearly monodic, often based on a minor scale, or, in rare cases, on a different mode (ex.2). Monodic and polyphonic ballads also differ in vocal style. Monodic ballads use a contained delivery in the central register and a declamatory style of singing that focusses on communicating the text; in polyphonic ballads the voice is louder, the melody often moves in a higher register, and the performers are clearly more interested in singing in itself. In both cases, however, the ballad retains its character as an identifiable poetic and musical entity, belonging to the first system of music production and transmission outlined above.

From the 1950s, women's ballads saw a progressive decline in the wake of massive migration from the countryside into cities and the disintegration of multiple families into scattered families; this marked the end of collective occasions for singing and exchanges among women. Moreover, from the end of the 19th century, peasant women in the north became increasingly involved in the new form of seasonal work as rice-weeders. This brought profound changes as much to their lives and the imagery they commanded – they were living apart from their families for the first time, had freer relations with men and could earn an income of their own – as to their repertory of songs and style of singing (linked to choral performance, tense and high-pitched). A repertory of rice-weeders' songs came into existence, preserving only a few of the old ballads (sometimes in altered versions), but giving rise to new songs that bore directly on the women's work experience.

A male song practice, which shares points of contact and exchange with the female practice of ballad singing, has also been documented. Men's songs are predominantly choral and associated with musical entertainment in the classic male gathering-places, chiefly the inn. The male choral repertory is mixed, and may include social, Alpine, comic and risqué songs, as well as some ballads. The unifying element of this repertory is the style of singing, a two-voice, parallel third structure, enriched by octave doublings, drones or additional harmony notes. Generally there is a solo opening before the entry of the chorus, which is loud, emphatic and slow (ex.3). Since this style is very taxing, men often tend to shorten ballad texts, preferring to focus on the cohesion of the group and the musical activity itself rather than the narrative. This may be related to the different function that singing has for a male chorus: as an event it has a looser connection with the textual content of the songs and is more directed towards emphasizing the social and cohesive value of the simple act of singing together. There are interesting examples of this type of male choral singing in the Po valley and the Ligurian hinterland.

Broadside ballads are quite different from the ballads of the oral tradition, both in terms of the way they are produced and their content. They are the creation of folk-music professionals, cantastorie (street singers), active in northern and central Italy, and form part of the performances they give in town piazzas, where instrumental pieces and other types of songs are also heard. The songs are a part of the show which is sold to the audience and paid for by the acquisition of various objects, including broadsheets with the song texts (in the past) or pre-recorded cassettes (today). The narrative songs that ballad singers produce are quite different in character from ballads belonging to the oral tradition: they use a variety of poetic metres, different from epic-lyric verse, employ recurrent musical motifs (as in ex.4) and often have an instrumental accompaniment. With topics drawn mainly from recent crime stories, dealt with in a sensationalist manner, their highly detailed narrative style is directed towards the emotional involvement of the spectators. These songs have also entered the repertory of the oral tradition, but they are easy to distinguish from traditional ballads. The exchange has not been one way: ballad singers have also taken over traditional ballads, re-elaborated in the style of broadside ballads, like Donna lombarda or Cecilia.

As well as the broadside ballads, the storie of southern cantastorie are worthy of note. Traditionally, the storia is quite a long piece, with a particularly elaborate narrative and a wealth of detail, employing a strict strophic form, with a preference for 11-syllable lines. Lengthy storie, concerned with matters of honour and blood, have been documented by folklorists in the past, the most famous being La baronessa di Carini, but there are also storie concerned with political events, such as La storia di Muratti (ex.5), which recounts the historical tale of Gioacchino Murat, the former King of Naples who was shot dead in 1815. In the 20th century Sicilian ballad singers have often collaborated with poets (including Ignazio Buttitta) for their texts. Their performances in town piazzas, accompanied by guitar, use the traditional visual aid of the cartellone, a placard depicting the key events of the tale.

The long storie in ottava rima found in central Italy are also narrative in content, and are traditionally sung at veglie, social gatherings with music; a famous example is the storia of Pia de' Tolomei, which exists in different popular printed versions. More typical of the work of poets in ottava rima, who, in contrast to the cantastorie, are not professionals, but specialist interpreters of a song tradition, are re-elaborations of narratives mainly drawn from published classical and Renaissance epic literature. These are heard at competitions in which two performers confront one another, improvising verses according to a specific musical practice, which allows for subjective elaboration of the melodies (as happens in lyrical singing).

Lastly, mention should be made of religious narrative compositions, the orazioni that recount Christ's Passion or the lives of saints. Often performed in the past by mendicants, the religious narrative song in Sicily has been the prerogative of the orbi, a congregation of blind musicians in existence since 1600 in Palermo, who are the trustees of a wealth of novene and triunfi, songs commissioned by a believer in honour of a saint who has bestowed a grace.

3. Lyrical singing.

This term refers to a system of improvised music-making prevalent in southern and central Italy, but also to be found in the north. The basis of lyrical singing is a creative act, whereby words and music are combined extemporarily. A variety of musical practices are used, by men and women, individually or together. They form an essential part of local culture, often being taken as a potent symbol of local identity. The texts do not recount stories, but express feelings (in most cases addressed to an imaginary female figure), and are subjective in character. They are widely circulated and have given rise to innumerable variants, but are not tied to specific melodies. The principal metre is the 11-syllable line, organized into different poetic forms, and variously elaborated in the course of the song, even with fragmentations and the insertion of verses in contrasting metres. The singing practices are normally local in character and adopt a ‘way of singing’ peculiar to the community which each interpreter is free to elaborate on individually. There are also specific ways of elaborating the text and organizing a group of performers to participate in the singing and the various forms of accompaniment. Since these singing practices are highly diversified, this overview is limited to the observation of some of the elements that differentiate them.

In some traditions the performance is based on a single, consistent text, a ‘continuous discourse’ performed as a solo (such as Sicilian carters' songs) or by a group of performers who follow strict rules of alternation. For example, the first performer may sing a couplet, repeated by the others in turn, and elaborated in a particular manner, as in songs alla verbicarese or alla lonnuvucchisa, or else the singers will alternate, taking single verses and using a technique of fragmentation and repetition which has echoes in 14th-century Italian music. An example of this type is provided by songs ‘alla mageraiota’ (ex.6). In other traditions, the performance will use several song texts (either complete or in part) in sequence, possibly adding verses of contrasting character or nonsense. Such pieces are generally performed by several singers in turn, and the performance is characterized by the notion of ‘interrupted discourse’, in that texts on different themes follow on from each other. Lastly, the performance can be organized as a dialogue between two singers alternately using a precise musico-poetic form for each entry (contrasti, stornelli, dispetti, etc.).

The types of lyrical singing discussed so far are all monodic and are performed employing either purely vocal melodies or dance tunes. In the former case, the rhythm is free, the vocal style is often very tense, the singer uses a high register, and the melody is organized in descending segments, frequently moving by step; there is a great deal of melismatic decoration, the melody is often modal, sometimes characterized by modal mobility, and there may be instrumental accompaniment. When a song is performed to an instrumental dance-tune, the singers can still use the same ‘gestural’ style, or they may adopt less articulated melodies, with a fixed rhythm and a less emphatic vocal style more concerned with communicating the often very dense text. They may even mix the two singing styles as in ex.7. At any rate, making music within the system of lyrical singing provides ways for participants to test their own creative skill and degree of competence in giving a musical performance, within shared guidelines that determine the possibility of reciprocal communication, interaction and exchange between performers.

Lyrical singing serves many functions. One practice of great interest which has now disappeared is the serenata which a man addresses to his beloved; this fulfilled the social function of monitoring pre-marital relations, and in some parts of southern Italy could take the forms of a ‘song of love’ and ‘song of contempt’. The performance of ‘songs of love’ publicly announced the relationship, while ‘songs of contempt’ either informed the community that an engagement had been broken off, or else provoked the break by directing highly offensive comments to the woman. The same repertory can be sung today as a form of entertainment within a male group; the function here is to socialize certain subject-matter of an emotional nature, and realize particular models of interpersonal interaction. In some traditions, the performance of lyrical songs may be part of devotional behaviour during religious festivals. In the past there was also frequent recourse to lyrical singing during agricultural work, at social occasions or competitions, where verbal communication and competitive improvisation predominated.

Agricultural work and entertainment are also associated with polyphonic renditions of lyrical songs, and while these are to be found in many regions of Italy, different regional traditions generally display no connections. In the north, the villotta (a type of lyrical song in verses of 8 or 11 syllables, now rare in either monodic or polyphonic performance) can be sung in parallel 3rds, while in the Italian communities of Istria it gives way to various types of two-voice, non-parallel discant known as canto a pera or a la longa in Gallesano, basso in Dignano, mantignada in Sissano and butunada in Rovigno. In central Italy the most significant form is the vatoccu, found in Umbria, the Marches and the Abruzzi. This type of discant performed by two voices (either both male or mixed), used to perform lyrical satirical songs with verses of 11-syllable lines, whose chief point of interest lies in the non-parallel movement of the lines(ex.8). Other forms of two-part singing in central Italy, in many respects similar to the vatoccu, are known locally by names such as canto a coppia, a recchia, alla metitora, alla pennese.

There are also traditions of polyphonic singing in the extreme south accompanied by a drone (ex.9). In Sardinia forms of lyrical singing show individual aspects when compared to those on mainland Italy, including the monodic ‘song with guitar’, and the polyphonic tenore singing. Mention should lastly be made of the vjersh of the Albanian communities in Calabria, a form of great contrapuntal interest, where a brief sequence of verses is interpreted by two and three voices according to a variety of polyphonic models.

4. Other vocal repertories.

(i) Children's songs.

The best-known songs for children are lullabies, an enormous repertory with great variations throughout Italy. This repertory is identified not by form or poetic metre nor by a given musical idiom, but uniquely by the occasion for the song – an important moment in the relationship between mother and child. Different functions can be expressed inside this relationship, beyond the mere inducement to sleep through repeated, rocking melodies. Lullabies display a wide range of imagery, with references to everyday life or religion, and as some of them derive from lyrical songs, they make up a repertory in which women create a world of fantasy that goes beyond the dimension of the relationship with the baby. The very melodic articulation of the song and the loud nature of the vocal style are evidence that the lullaby has often been the instrument for women to express themselves musically, and that has developed beyond the traits generally associated with the occasion of its use.

There is also a rich repertory of rhymes and counting songs for children, often using simple melodies and linked to games which, together with tongue-twisters and riddles, traditionally constitute instruments of the child's physical and mental training. Less well known are the songs that children use for their own games, and which may include pieces from adult repertories, like ballads, or, as in Brianza, the medieval Visitatio Sepulchri, reworked as children's games.

(ii) Work songs.

It has already been observed that there are multiple song traditions, many of them lyrical, that performers relate to agricultural work. They take on a variety of names in different locations: canti alla mietitora (harvesting songs), boare, canti alla falciatora (scything songs), carters' or waggoners' songs, canto alla monnarella, vatoccu, canto a pennese, etc. In most cases the singing style is quite taxing, both in terms of vocal production and, for polyphony, in the coordination of voices, a style traditionally sung not while working but during breaks or after the work was done. Other repertories more closely related to work have now generally disappeared, like that of tuna fishers in Sicily, who used sound to coordinate various points in the work of fishing. For salt-workers the principal element lay in counting the boxes of salt transported, while pedlars sang to attract clients and advertise their wares(ex.10). The piledrivers of the Venetian lagoon had work songs, and work was also the context of the repertory of rice-weeders (songs recounting moments of life in the rice-fields or expressing social protest), spinners (working in silk mills) and with other songs of social protest associated, among other things, with labouring and emigration.

(iii) Other polyphonic practices.

Besides the polyphonic practices described above, which are associated with specific occasions (such as work or ritual) or repertories (ballads, lyrical singing), the main function of some other singing practices is collective entertainment. Such practices are characterized more by style than by repertory. Among these are several styles of male polyphony in the north of Italy (including that of the Alpine chorus, which is partly connected to folk repertories), which vary in their particular musical choices. In urban Genoa a complex type of five-voice polyphony has developed, known as trallalero: its characteristics are the use of a falsetto voice (cuntrètu), and a voice that imitates a guitar and takes that name (chitarra), with the addition of a tenor voice (the soloist who begins the song), a baritone and a bass, the last part being taken by at least three singers (ex.11). Trallalero was already documented in the 19th century, but it started to develop from the 1920s particularly. Its musical structure is solidly tonal, most of the texts are very short, it offers no particular message and often resembles nonsense. A singing practice that is similar in many respects is the bei-bei of Monte Amiata in Tuscany. This is characterized by a solo voice (tenor), who sings the song text to the accompaniment of the bei (a voice that performs a kind of yodel moving in intervals of a 3rd or 6th) and the corda (a bass who sings the fundamental notes of the harmony), and sometimes an intermediate voice which fills out the harmonic texture or provides a rhythmic support (ex.12).

A further form of polyphonic song in which voices imitate an instrumental accompaniment (like the trallalero and the bei) is found in Rovigno in Istria. This is the bitinada, a singing style for three male voices: the upper voice takes the melody and sings the text, while the two lower voices perform an accompaniment of nonsense syllables (lulu, tin tin, etc.), based respectively on an arpeggio and a rhythmic motif on a repeated pitch. Another category of polyphonic song in Rovigno is the aria da nuoto, night song. This is for three voices in choral style (ex.13); as in the other examples, the texts are of varied provenance and are no more than a pretext for collective singing. A further style is the tiir of Premana in the province of Como, which aims for maximum socialization during the singing, with no distinction between singers and audience. Men and women together create a complex musical texture where there are no predetermined roles and great harmonic richness is achieved spontaneously.

5. Music in ritual.

Of the principal life-cycle events, birth is not connected in Italy to any specific musical repertory, but marriage was often accompanied by songs and music for the bridal pair. Among the different traditions is the sonata per la sposa performed in the pastoral communities of Alta Sabina. This includes three pieces played on the ciaramella (here a bagpipe with two chanters and no drone): the piagnereccia, played while waiting for the bride outside her father's house, and expressing in music the bride's grief at leaving her family (ex.14), the camminareccia, which accompanies the bride's journey to the church, and the crellareccia, a dance performed by the newly-weds as they leave the church. Death has traditionally been an occasion of ritual mourning (ex.15) in the south and in Sardinia. Ernesto De Martino devoted one of his greatest works to this practice (D1958), examining the rites connected with death in Lucania and, for comparison, in other Mediterranean areas of Europe. He describes ritual mourning as ‘protected speech’ (D1958, pp.89–103), that is, a cultural model that offers the protection of organized behaviour for the expression of grief. He thus interprets the lament as a technique for weeping (including particular verbal, musical and gestural behaviour) established in order to control and overcome the psychological risks connected to the experience of death, undergone by individuals and the community as a whole.

De Martino devoted his most famous work (D1961) to another rite, therapeutic in character, which is found in Puglia. His analysis again concerns a situation of physical and psychological crisis, called tarantism. Traditional culture in Puglia considered tarantism to be poisoning caused by a tarantula bite, which could be cured only through a symbolic rite, featuring music, dance and colour. According to De Martino's interpretation, tarantism aims at symbolically representing and acting out a critical situation (a psychological struggle that cannot be remembered, thus leading to neurosis) that affects all women during the age of sexual development. His study (including an article by the ethnomusicologist Diego Carpitella) reveals the large part played by music during the therapy of tarantism, since music represents the only instrument that can provoke a reaction to the state of complete apathy of those affected, inviting them to dance and thus to represent and overcome the conflict. Towards the end of his life De Martino began studying a phenomenon parallel to tarantism, the Sardinian argia.

Music plays an important role in a large number of rites that may be either religious or seasonal, or both, varying by region. The cycle of festivals of the winter solstice is the occasion for instrumental performances (the pastorale performed on the bagpipe is common in the south), narrative songs relating to Christmas, lullabies for the baby Jesus, songs for Epiphany (such as the Pasquella in Romagna and the Stella in the eastern Alps) and Christmas novenas. Strictly speaking, the term novena signifies a narrative song in nine sections, corresponding to the nine days preceding the feast day: a widely known piece in Sicily is the Viaggiu dulurusu, a narration in nine parts traditionally performed by the orbi, that begins at the point where Joseph learns of the imperial decree ordering the census and ends with the Nativity. Carnival was traditionally the period for veglie (when songs would be sung and stories told), dances (Bagolino in the province of Brescia has a particularly famous repertory) and rites which are widely found in many parts of Italy. Often the subject is the death and resurrection of a symbolic figure (the Carnevale, the Vecchia) or the representation of ‘the world turned upside-down’, and there may be an element of dressing-up (a famous example being the masked mamutones of Mamoiada in Sardinia, who form a procession, playing cow-bells and rattles). Sometimes the rites take on an explicitly theatrical dimension (for example, the Zeza and the representation of the months in Campania, and the Befanate in Tuscany).

In many parts of the country Easter is the occasion for ritual and representational events which culminate in the rites of Good Friday, and many important song traditions are connected to these. In addition to the numerous songs narrating the Passion found in many regions, mention should also be made of polyphonic songs, often liturgical in character and sung in Latin, traditionally sung by groups of men (although recently women's voices have been introduced in some cases) who belong to lay confraternities. There are particularly interesting examples in Emilia, Liguria, Umbria, Campania (ex.16), Sicily and Sardinia. Particularly in the south, spring and summer see numerous festivals dedicated to the Virgin Mary or to saints, each of which calls for ritual behaviour and involves much singing and dancing. Roberto De Simone's recordings of religious festivals in Campania, issued in 1977, are an important piece of documentation.

In many central and northern regions the arrival of summer is celebrated in the May (Maggio) festival, which, in Emilia and Tuscany takes the form of a proper music-theatre performance, whose origins seem to be traceable to the late 18th century. The Maggio drammatico is one of the most important expressions of folk music-theatre in Europe, and while it retains an explicit connection with a seasonal theme (the triumph of summer over winter), it has developed into a complex piece of work, all of it sung. The subject matter is freely drawn from medieval and Renaissance literature, the Bible and other sources, and elaborated by local writers who adapt the material to a recurring dramatic scheme: through a series of adventures a group of heroes (generally Christians) is formed, and they fight an enemy group (generally pagans), until the eventual triumph of the heroes. The dramatic composition is framed by the procession of the maggerini (or maggianti) followed by a prologue (a series of opening verses often referring to the seasonal theme and introducing the subject-matter), and the final chorus (ex.17), the only polyphonic piece in the presentation, which signals the return to the stage of all the characters who have appeared in the action, representing a communal concluding rite. The drama presented between the prologue and final chorus often has a cyclical structure and is frequently characterized by a number of synchronized actions. The acting style is ‘alienated’ and in some traditions gestures are used to explain particular words of the text. The musical and poetic structures are closely linked: four lines (or sometimes five in Tuscany) of eight syllables – the dominant metre, related to the flowing action – are intoned on a fluid melodic pattern, articulated in four sections, similar to local forms of lyrical singing. An eight-line stanza (ottava) of 11 syllables, intoned on a melody repeated with variations at every couplet, is reserved for the key moments in the drama (death, imprisonment, separation); the sonetto (four lines of seven syllables) is used mainly for lyrical scenes and for the final chorus. As well as the singing there are short instrumental episodes (fragments of liscio dance tunes performed by violin, guitar and accordion) whose principal role is to divide the scenes and underline dramatic moments. The Maggio drammatico is still found in local variants in the Emilian Apennines and in Tuscany.

6. Dances and instruments.

The principal instrumental music traditions found in Italy are mostly of dance music. Both in terms of dance and of music, the repertories are often profoundly different in the northern and central-southern regions. In northern Italy, the most important dance repertories, prominent in Emilia, Bagolino and Resia, are played by a small instrumental group, based around the violin (whose playing technique retains many elements from Baroque practice). In Emilia these concertini have often changed in composition depending on the availability of players, but the classic formation in the early 20th century was two violins (the first having a solo function while the second provided a rhythmic-harmonic accompaniment), guitar (accompanying), a bowed bass instrument (such as a violone, three-string bassett, cello or bass) and whatever other instruments might be available to double the melody and in some cases perform a counter-melody (such as another violin or a viola). The repertory consisted of skipping dances (ruggero, saltarello, ballo di Mantova, roncastalda, monferrina, etc.), dances with ritual aspects (ballo di baraben) and waltzes, polkas and mazurkas, known as liscio (‘smooth’) to differentiate them from skipping dances.

In contrast, the repertory of instrumental groups in Bagolino is tied exclusively to Carnival. These groups consist of two violins, playing the main melody and a doubling or a counter-melody, two guitars (for accompaniment), a bass and a mandolin. The dances (ariosa, bal frances, bas de tach, muleta, pas in amur, rose e fiori, etc.), reserved for the last Monday and Tuesday of Carnival, are complex and sophisticated, and are performed by specially trained dancers from the village. Instrumental groups of the Val di Resia in Istria are made up of a violin (citira) which performs the melody alternately in two keys a fifth apart, an optional second violin doubling the melody in 3rds, a cello (bunkula) which holds the alternating tonics as a drone, and the stamping of the players, providing rhythmic support (ex.18). The dance repertory (such as the ta palacowa, ta matianowa, ta panawa, rezianka zagatina) is performed for the departure of conscripts (young conscripted soldiers), at Carnival or for festivals, and sometimes has vocal accompaniment.

Although the violin is predominant in the north, it is also used in Puglia in the context of tarantism rites: accompanied by a tambourine (taking the rhythmic function essential to the rite), guitar and sometimes accordion, the violin plays an essential role in the music and dance therapy of tarantism. Still in the north, in the Oltrepò pavese region around Pavia a further repertory of skipping dances can be found; examples are alessandrina, monferrina, piana, giga, perigurdino, sposina (dance for a bride), and povera donna, a Carnival dance that represents a rite of death and resurrection. The latter repertory is played by a piffero, a double-reed instrument belonging to the oboe family, and formerly accompanied by the müsa (a bagpipe with a single chanter for the melody and a one single-reed drone), now replaced by the accordion. Today besides the traditional dances many such groups perform a more recent repertory of liscio dances, also used by band groups (the Concerto Cantoni band in Emilia is famous for its repertory).

Many instruments are used in folk traditions, often deriving from art music. Idiophones include castanets, bells and cow-bells, crotales, cymbals, rattles, Jew's harps, setaccio, traccola and triangle. Of the membranophones, tambourines of different sizes are played (which may incorporate various types of idiophones, like small cymbals or bells), as well as double-sided drums and friction drums. Aerophones include end-blown, transverse or vessel flutes, panpipes, clarinets, oboes with or without pirouettes, shells, mouth organs, accordions and band instruments. Apart from the chordophones already mentioned, guitar and mandolin are common, and in the past the harp was found in Viggiano, Basilicata, and the zither in the Tyrol.

Formerly one of the most widely found instruments in various forms throughout Italy was the zampogna or Bagpipe. In the north, where apart from the müsa mentioned above, types such as the Alpine and Apennine piva were formerly played, today it has completely died out except for the Istrian piva, which has two single-reed chanters and no drone. The piva was once used to accompany singing as well as to play dance tunes (furlana, balùn, liscio dances) to the accompaniment of a tambourine, simbalo. The zampogna is now most widely found in central-southern Italy and Sicily. The instruments found in this area share a common structural characteristic: they have two chanters played with separate hands, and the drone pipes are mounted together with the chanters in a single block of wood, placed in a goatskin bag. In other respects, the central-southern bagpipes display profound differences. Some have chanters of equal length (the surdulina of Basilicata and northern Calabria, the Calabrian and Sicilian zampogna a paro, which generally has single reeds and two or three drone pipes), some have chanters of unequal length (zampogna zoppa with one, two or no drone pipes, mainly with double reeds, found in central Italy). Some have a key mechanism for the longest pipe to facilitate access to the complete system, presumably taken from the Renaissance Shawm, such as the zampogna a chiave found from Lazio down to Sicily, generally with two drone pipes and double reeds. There is also the Calabrian ‘a’moderna’ bagpipe, with chanters of unequal length, three drone pipes and single reeds.

Given the widespread presence of the bagpipe in Italy, its repertories are naturally diverse, using different musical idioms which have yet to be examined in depth. The instrument is used in ritual performance (processions, music for a saint, novenas), for dance (in southern Italy and Sicily the tarantella predominates, displaying a variety of choreographic and musical aspects) and to accompany singing. In many cases the bagpipe is accompanied by other instruments, especially the tambourine, different forms of which are found wherever the bagpipe appears in central-southern Italy, and the ciaramella (shawm; fig.22). The bagpipe is absent from Sardinia, but a triple clarinet of reed pipes called launeddas (played using circular breathing) is found throughout the southern area of the island.

The music played by the launeddas is the most refined example of the open, improvisatory forms mentioned earlier and is widespread in the instrumental music of southern Italy. The general structure of the dances (ballo tondo) played by professional musicians is completely dominated by the aesthetic notion of thematic continuity (sonai a iskala). In practice, the dance is made up of a series of nodas or pikkiades (short elements endowed with a characteristic tripartite form), each of which is developed in a series of variants that together form a group. The passage from a group based on one noda to a new noda has to be effected without a perceptible modification in the musical discourse, something that is achieved through a sophisticated variation technique. Similarly, techniques of improvisation based on the connection and variation of short musical elements may be found, for instance in the repertory of the southern bagpipes and diatonic accordion.

The instruments mentioned above are the most important to be found in the panorama of Italian music, both in terms of diffusion and size of repertory. But the country also has many other instrumental traditions, often limited but nevertheless of great interest, such as that of the chitarra battente (in Puglia, Campania and Calabria), the lyra (found almost uniquely among the Greek-descended communities of southern Calabria), the double flute (in Campania, Calabria and Sicily: ex.19), and simple, double and triple clarinets (such as the Sardinian benas).

a: bibliographies, reviews, surveys

BIBLIOGRAPHY

See also Sardinia

b: general studies

c: regional and local studies

d: anthropological studies

e: vocal music, general

f: vocal repertories

g: instruments and instrumental music

h: dance and theatre

i: folk and art music

j: historical sources

k: minority groups

l: discographies

a: bibliographies, reviews, surveys

D. Carpitella: ‘Rassegna bibliografica degli studi di etnomusicologia in Italia dal 1945 ad oggi’, AcM, xxxii (1960), 109–113

T. Magrini: ‘Vent'anni di musicologia in Italia: IV. Etnomusicologia’, AcM, liv (1982), 80–83

S. Biagiola, G. Giuriati and M. Macedonio: ‘Primo contributo ad una bibliografia etnomusicologica italiana con esempi musicali’, Culture musicali, iii (1983), 121–80; ix (1988), 103–34

L. Colombo, P. Staro and A. Zanon: ‘Bibliografia sulla danza popolare italiana’, Culture musicali, vii–viii (1985), 147–94

F. Giannattasio: ‘Pour une musicologie unitaire: l'ethnomusicologie en Italie’, Ethnologie Française, xxiv (1994), 587–600

G. Giuriati: ‘Country report: Italian Ethnomusicology’, YTM, xxvii (1995), 104–31

See also the website of Music & Anthropology 〈http://www.muspe.unibo.it/M&A〉.

b: general studies

MGG1 (‘Italien’, §C; T. Magrini)

F.B. Pratella: Saggio di gridi, canzoni, cori e danze del popolo italiano (Bologna, 1919/R)

C. Caravaglios: Il folklore musicale in Italia (Naples, 1936)

F.B. Pratella: Primo documentario per la storia dell'etnofonia in Italia (Udine, 1941)

D. Carpitella and G. Nataletti: Studi e ricerche del Centro nazionale studi di musica popolare: dal 1948 al 1960 (Rome, n.d.)

R. Leydi and S. Mantovani: Dizionario della musica popolare europea (Milan, 1970)

D. Carpitella, ed.: Musica e tradizione orale (Palermo, 1973)

D. Carpitella, ed.: L'etnomusicologia in Italia (Palermo, 1975)

D. Carpitella: Folklore e analisi differenziale di cultura: materiali per lo studio delle tradizioni popolari (Rome, 1976)

L. Fayet and others: Ethnomusicologie: l'expérience italienne (Paris, 1981)

B. Pianta: Cultura popolare (Milan, 1982)

G. Giuriati, ed.: Forme e comportamenti della musica folklorica italiana: etnomusicologia e didattica (Milan, 1985)

S. Biagiola, ed.: Etnomusica: catalogo della musica di tradizione orale nelle registrazioni dell' Archivio etnico linguistico musicale della Discoteca di stato (Rome, 1986)

M. Agamennone: ‘I suoni della tradizione’, Storia sociale e culturale d'Italia, vi: La cultura folklorica, ed. F. Cardini (Varese, 1988), 437–522

P.G. Arcangeli, ed.: Musica e liturgia nella cultura mediterranea (Florence, 1988)

D. Carpitella: Etnomusicologica: seminari internazionali di etnomusicologia 1977–1989 (Siena, 1989)

Le polifonie primitive in Cividale: Cividale del Friuli 1980

R. Leydi, ed.: Le tradizioni popolari in Italia: canti e musiche popolari (Milan, 1990)

M. Agamennone and others: Grammatica della musica etnica (Rome, 1991)

R. Leydi: L'altra musica (Milan, 1991)

D. Carpitella: Conversazioni sulla musica (1955–1990) lezioni, conferenze, trasmissioni radiofoniche, ed. Società italiana di etnomusicologia (Florence, 1992)

F. Giannattasio: Il concetto di musica: contributi e prospettive della ricerca etnomusicologica (Rome, 1992)

Ethnomusicologica II: Siena 1989

T. Magrini, ed.: Antropologia della musica e culture mediterranee (Bologna, 1993)

R. Leydi, ed.: La musica popolare in Italia (Lucca, 1996)

I. Macchiarella: Voix d'Italie (Paris, 1999) [with CD]

c: regional and local studies

F.B. Pratella: Etnofonia di Romagna (Udine, 1938)

A. Favara: Corpus di musiche popolari siciliane, ed. O. Tiby (Palermo, 1957)

A. Cornoldi: Ande, bali e cante del Veneto (Padua, 1968)

R. Leydi, ed.: Le trasformazioni socio-economiche e la cultura tradizionale in Lombardia (Milan, 1972)

M. Conati: Canti popolari della Val d'Enza e della Val Cedra (Parma, 1973–5)

E. Guggino: ‘Canti di lavoro in Sicilia’, Demologia e folklore: studi in memoria di Giuseppe Cochiara (Palermo, 1974), 317–36

A. Vigliermo: Cantie tradizioni popolari: indagine sul Canavese (Ivrea, 1974)

M. Conati: ‘La musica di tradizione orale nella provincia di Verona’, La musica a Verona, ed. P. Brugnoli (Verona, 1976), 573–648

R. Leydi: ‘Appunti per lo studio della ballata popolare in Piemonte’, Ricerche musicali, i (1977), 82–118

P.E. Carapezza: ‘Canzoni popolari alla siciliana cioè alla catanese e alla palermitana’, RIM, xiii (1978), 118–41

E. Guggino: I carrettieri (Palermo, 1978)

R. De Simone: Canti e tradizioni popolari in Campania (Rome, 1979)

P. Collaer: Musique traditionelle sicilienne (Tervuren, 1980)

E. Guggino: I canti degli orbi (Palermo, 1980–88)

R. Leydi and T. Magrini, eds.: Guida allo studio della cultura del mondo popolare in Emilia e in Romagna (Bologna, 1982–6)

G. Adamo: ‘Sullo studio di un repertorio monodico della Basilicata’, Culture musicali, ii (1982), 95–154

P. Collaer: ‘I modi della musica tradizionale siciliana’, Culture musicali, ii (1982), 3–18

T. Magrini and G. Bellosi: Vi do la buonasera: studi sul canto popolare in Romagna: il repertorio lirico (Bologna, 1982)

R. Morelli and others: Cantie cultura tradizionale nel Tesino (Milan, 1983)

A. Sparagna: La tradizione musicale a Maranola: materiali di ricerca etnomusicologica nel Basso Lazio (Rome, 1983)

M. Agamennone: Due laudate meridionali: le ‘carresi’ di Larino e San Martino in Pensilis (Campobasso, 1984)

E. Lagnier: Enquête sur le chant populaire en Vallée d'Aoste (Aosta, 1984)

M. Sorce Keller: ‘Folk Music in Trentino: Oral Transmission and the Use of Vernacular Languages’, EthM, xxviii (1984), 75–89

A. Colzani, ed.: Musica, dialetti e tradizioni popolari nell'arco alpino (Lugano, 1987)

N. Iannone: Ballate della raccolta Nigra note nella provincia di Piacenza (Bologna, 1989)

A. Sparagna and R. Tucci: La musica popolare nel Lazio (Rome, 1990)

A. Ricci: ‘Polivocalità tradizionale di Torano Castello e Sartano (Cosenza)’, Studi Musicali, xx (1991), 3–38

P. Sassu, ed.: Romagna, le voci: ricerca sul folklore di Sant'Alberto di Ravenna (Ravenna, 1991)

M. Sorce Keller: Tradizione orale e canto corale: ricerca musicologica in Trentino (Bologna, 1991)

R. Starec: Il repertorio etnomusicale istro-veneto: catalogo delle registrazioni 1983–91(Trieste, 1991)

A. Ricci and R. Tucci: I ‘canti’ di Raffaele Lombardi Satriani: la poesia cantata nella tradizione popolare calabrese (Lamezia Terme, 1997) [CDs enclosed]

S. Villani: Canti e strumenti tradizionali di Carpino (Rignano Garganico, 1997)

R. Leydi, ed.: Canzoni popolari del Piemonte: la raccolta inedita di Leone Sinigaglia (Vigevano, 1998)

d: anthropological studies

E. De Martino: Morte e pianto rituale (Turin, 1958)

E. De Martino: La terra del rimorso: contributo a una storia religiosa del sud (Milan, 1961)

R. De Simone: Chi è devoto: feste popolari in Campania (Naples, 1974)

A. Rossi and R. De Simone: Carnevale si chiamava Vincenzo: rituali di Carnevale in Campania (Rome, 1977)

T. Magrini: Canti d'amore e di sdegno: funzioni e dinamiche psichiche della cultura orale (Milan, 1986)

T. Magrini: ‘The Group Dimension in Traditional Music’, The World of Music, xxxi (1989), 52–79

T. Magrini: ‘The Contribution of Ernesto De Martino to the Anthropology of Italian Music’, YTM, xxvi (1994), 66–80

L. Del Giudice: ‘Ninna-nanna Nonsense?: Fears, Dreams, and Falling in the Italian Lullaby’, Oral Tradition, iii (1988), 270–93

S. Bonanzinga: Forme sonore e spazio simbolico: tradizioni musicali in Sicilia (Palermo, 1992)

T. Magrini: ‘Ballad and Gender: Reconsidering Italian Narrative Singing’, Ethnomusicology Online, i (1995)

T. Magrini: ‘Music and Function: an Open Question’, Musica oral del Sur, iii (1998), 85–92

T. Magrini: ‘Improvisation and Group Interaction in Italian Lyrical Singing’, In the Course of Performance: Studies in the World of Musical Improvisation, ed. B. Nettl and M. Russell (Chicago, 1998), 169–98

T. Magrini: ‘Women's “Work of Pain” in Christian Mediterranean Europe’, Music & Anthropology, iii (1998)

e: vocal music, general

C. Nigra: Canti popolari del Piemonte (Turin, 1888)

P. Toschi: Fenomenologia del canto popolare (Rome, 1947–9)

A. Lomax: ‘Nuova ipotesi sul canto folkloristico italiano’, Nuovi Argomenti, xvii–xviii (1955–6), 109–35

G.B. Bronzini: La canzone epico-lirica nell'Italia centro-meridionale (Rome, 1956–61)

Le polifonie primitive in Cividale: Cividale del Friuli 1980

G. Sanga: Il linguaggio del canto popolare (Milan-Florence, 1979)

M. Agamennone and S. Facci: ‘La trascrizione delle durate nella polivocalità popolare a due parti in Italia’, Culture musicali, i (1982), 89–106

T. Magrini: ‘Lo studio del comportamento musicale come fondamento del processo analitico: riflessioni sulla musica vocale di tradizione orale’, Analisi, viii (1992), 6–20

Il verso cantato: Rome 1988 (Rome, 1994)

M. Agamennone: Polifonie, procedimenti, tassonomie e forme: una riflessione ‘a più voci’ (Venice, 1996)

f: vocal repertories

C. Caravaglios: ‘Gridi di venditori napoletani trascritti musicalmente’, Il Folklore Italiano, i (1925), 87–115

R. Leydi: Canti sociali italiani (Milan, 1963)

R. Leydi and A. Rossi: Osservazioni sui canti religiosi nonliturgici, con esempi di ricerca nella Valle Padana (Milan, 1965)

A. Uccello: Carcere e mafia nei canti popolari siciliani (Bari, 1965)

R. Leydi: ‘Spettacolo in piazza oggi: i cantastorie’, Il contributo dei giullari alla drammaturgia italiana delle origini: Viterbo 1977 (Rome, 1978), 295–338

S. Biagiola: ‘Modelli di ninne nanne molisane’, NRMI, xv (1981), 66–94

E. Neill and M. Balma: ‘Il trallalero genovese’, Culture musicali, v–vi (1984), 43–122

C. Oltolina: I salmi di tradizione orale delle Valli Ossolane (Milan, 1984)

A. Ricci and R. Tucci: ‘Il canto “alla lonnuvicchisa”: analisi del testo verbale’, Culture musicali, v–vi (1984), 199–268

G. Pennino: Due repertori musicali tradizionali (Palermo, 1985)

R. Champrétavy and others: Les chansons de Napoléon (Aosta, 1986)

V. Consolo: La pesca del tonno in Sicilia (Palermo, 1986)

G. Kezich: I poeti contadini (Rome, 1986)

L. del Giudice: Cecilia: testi e contesti di un canto narrativo tradizionale (Brescia, 1987/R)

P.G. Arcangeli: ‘Il canto paraliturgico femminile e “volgare” di Tessennano’, Culture musicali, xii–xiv (1987–8), 159–68

M. Balma: ‘Il canto delle lezioni nella musica di tradizione orale in Liguria’, Culture musicali, xii–xiv (1987–8), 169–79

G. Garofalo: ‘I canti dei carrettieri della provincia di Palermo: per un'analisi formalizzata del repertorio’, Culture musicali, xii–xiv (1987–8), 80–105

I. Macchiarella: ‘L'ornamentazione melismatica della canzuna alla carrittera del palermitano’, Culture musicali, xii–xiv (1987–8), 106–15

G. Palombini: ‘Il lamento funebre in Alta Sabina’, Culture musicali, xii–xiv (1987–8), 116–38

G. Borghi and G. Vezzani: C'era una volta un ‘treppo’: cantastorie e poeti popolari in Italia settentrionale dalla fine dell'Ottocento agli anni ottanta (Sala Bolognese, 1988)

G. Fugazzotto: ‘Analisi della Visilla di Barcellona e di Pozzo di Gotto’, Culture musicali, xv–xvi (1989), 69–89

F. Maltempi: I canti della liturgia funebre ossolana (Bologna and Rome, 1990)

P. Wassermann: I canti popolari narrativi del Friuli (Udine, 1991)

Liturgie e paraliturgia nella tradizione orale: Santu Lussurigu 1991 (Cagliari, 1992)

S. Biagiola: ‘Canti di venditori ambulanti a Roma: la raccolta 9 degli Archivi di etnomusicologia’, EM: Annuario degli Archivi di etnomusicologia dell'Accademia nazionale di Santa Cecilia, ii (1994), 7–26

S. Bonanzinga: ‘Reaping and Threshing Rhythms in Calamònaci (Agrigento-Sicily)’, Música oral del Sur, i (1995), 90–102

G. Garofalo: ‘Traditional Rural Songs in Sicily’, Música oral del Sur, i (1995), 65–89

S. Biagiola: ‘Per uno studio sul lamento funebre in Italia’, EM: Annuario degli Archivi di etnomusicologia dell'Accademia nazionale di Santa Cecilia, iv (1996), 7–26

S. Villani: La serenata a San Giovanni Rotondo: studi sul canto lirico (Bologna, 1997)

g: instruments and instrumental music

A. Baines: Bagpipes (Oxford, 1960/R)

D. Carpitella: ‘Der Diaulos des Celestino’, Mf, xxviii (1975), 422–8

F. Giannattasio: L'organetto, uno strumento musicale contadino dell'era industriale (Rome, 1979)

M. Bröcker: ‘Il Piffero: ein Spieler und sein Instrument’, Studia instrumentorum musicae popularis, vii (1981), 134–48

G. Giuriati: ‘Un procedimento compositivo caleidoscopico: la tarantella di Montemarano’, Culture musicali, ii (1982), 19–72

S. Cammelli, ed.: Musiche da ballo, balli da festa: musiche, balli e suonatori tradizionali della montagna bolognese (Bologna, 1983)

J.P. De Bousquier and M. Padovan: ‘Il violino della Val Varaita’, Culture musicali, ii (1983), 71–8

F. Guizzi and R. Leydi: Strumenti musicali popolari in Sicilia (Palermo, 1983)

P. Staro: ‘Musica per danzare: congruenza fra cultura musicale e cultura coreutica nella prassi esecutiva del violinista Melchiade Benni di Monghidoro’, Culture musicali, iv (1983), 57–69

P. Arcangeli and G. Palombini: ‘Sulle ciaramelle dell'Alta Sabina’, Culture musicali, v–vi (1984), 169–98

F. Guizzi and R. Leydi: Le zampogne in Italia (Milan, 1985)

R. Leydi and F. Guizzi, eds.: Strumenti musicali e tradizioni popolari in Italia (Rome, 1985)

A. Ricci and R. Tucci: ‘The Chitarra Battente in Calabria’, GSJ, xxxviii (1985), 78–105

N. Staiti: ‘Iconografia e bibliografia della zampogna a paro in Sicilia’, Lares, lii (1986), 197–240

F. Giannattasio: ‘Les recherches italiennes: systèmes d'improvisation dans les musiques d'Italie du sud’, L'improvisation dans les musiques de tradition orale, ed. B. Lortat-Jacob (Paris, 1987), 235–51

G. Plastino: ‘I tamburi di San Rocco’, Culture musicali, xii–xiv (1987–8), 139–58

J. Strajnar: Citira: la musica strumentale in Val di Resia (Udine and Trieste, 1988)

F. Guizzi and N. Staiti: Le forme dei suoni: l'iconografia del tamburello in Italia (Florence, 1989)

E. Stockmann, ed.: Studia instrumentorum musicae popularis, ix (Stockholm, 1989)

R. Starec: Strumenti e suonatori in Istria (Udine, 1990)

M. Sarica: Strumenti musicali popolari in Sicilia (Messina, 1994)

R. Leydi and F. Guizzi, eds.: Gli strumenti musicali e l'etnografia italiana 1881–1911 (Lucca, 1995)

G. Plastino: Lira: uno strumento musicale tradizionale calabrese (Vibo Valentia, 1995)

C. Caliendo: La chitarra battente (Salerno, 1998)

h: dance and theatre

G. Ungarelli: Le vecchie danze italiane ancora in uso nella provincia bolognese (Rome, 1894)

B.M. Galanti: La danza della spada in Italia (Rome, 1942)

D. Carpitella: Ritmi e melodie di danze popolari in Italia (Rome, 1956)

S. Fontana: Il maggio (Florence, 1964)

G. Bosio and others: I Maggi della Bismantova (Milan, 1966)

P. Toschi: Le origini del teatro italiano (Turin, 1969)

P. Staro: ‘Metodo di analisi per un repertorio di danze tradizionali’, Culture musicali, i (1982), 73–94

D. Carbone: ‘Trascrizione del movimento e danze tradizionali: analisi di un saltarello di Amatrice’, Culture musicali, vii-viii (1985), 3–55

G. Gala: ‘Primo contributo per una filmografia sulla danza tradizionale in Italia’, Culture musicali, vii–viii (1985), 195–238

P. Staro: ‘Analisi del repertorio di danza della valle del Po’, Culture musicali, vii–viii (1985), 57–89

P. Staro: ‘Documento letterario e danza etnica’, Culture musicali, vii–viii (1985), 127–46

J. Strajnar: ‘Le danze di Resia’, Culture musicali, vii–viii (1985), 91–100

E. Castagna, ed.: Danza tradizionale in Calabria (Catanzaro, 1988)

T. Magrini, ed.: Il Maggio drammatico: una tradizione di teatro in musica (Bologna, 1992)

i: folk and art music

P.E. Carapezza: ‘Perennità del folklore: tre esempi nella tradizione musicale siciliana’, Culture musicali, iv (1983), 41–6

T. Magrini: ‘Dolce lo mio drudo: la prospettiva etnomusicologica’, RIM, xxi (1986), 215–35

L. Rovighi: ‘Violino popolare e violino barocco’, Culture musicali, iv (1983), 31–55

N. Staiti: ‘La formula di discanto di “Ruggiero”’, Culture musicali, xii–xiv (1987–8), 47–79

R. Starec: ‘Scritto e orale, colto e popolare, sacro e profano nella tradizione cantata: due esempi dall'Italia nordorientale’, Culture musicali, xii–xiv (1987–8), 180–93

G. Merizzi: ‘La fonte popolare nell'opera di Adriano Banchieri: indagine sul repertorio poetico-musicale profano’, Culture musicali, new ser., i–ii (1990), 17–74

R. Morelli: ‘Otto canti della Stella fra Riforma e Controriforma’, Culture musicali, new ser., i–ii (1990), 75–107

I. Macchiarella: Il falsobordone fra tradizione orale e scritta (Lucca, 1995)

j: historical sources

P.E. Carapezza: Antichità etnomusicali siciliane (Palermo, 1977)

A. Carlini: Una raccolta inedita di musiche popolari trentine (1819): 21 balli popolari trentini per violino raccolti nel 1819 da Joseph Sonnleithner (Bologna, 1985)

G. Plastino: Suoni di carta: un'antologia sulla musica tradizionale in Calabria 1571–1957 (Lamezia Terme, 1997)

k: minority groups

L. Levi: ‘Canti tradizionali e tradizioni liturgiche giudeo-italiane’, La Rassegna mensile di Israele, xxiii (1957), 403–11, 434–45

C. Ahrens: ‘Die Musik der griechischen Bevölkerungsgruppen in Italien’, Neue Ethnomusikologische Forschungen: Festschrift Felix Hoerburger zum 60 Geburtstag, ed. P. Baumann, R.M. Brandl and K. Reinhard (Laaber, 1977), 129–39

I. De Gaudio: ‘Analisi delle tecniche polifoniche in un repertorio polivocale di tradizione orale: i “vjersh” delle comunità albanofone della Calabria’, Quaderni di M/R, xxx (Modena, 1993)

L. Del Giudice, ed.: Studies in Italian American Folklore (Logan, Utah, 1993)

N. Scaldaferri: Musica arbëreshe in Basilicata: la tradizione musicale di San Costantino Albanese con riferimenti a quella di San Paolo Albanese (Lecce, 1994)

1. Unusual aspects of Ives’s career.

l: discographies

R. Tucci: ‘Discografia del folklore musicale italiano in microsolco (1955–1980)’, Culture musicali, i (1982), 125–48

M. Gualerzi: ‘Discografia della musica popolare sarda a 78 rem (1922–1959)’, Culture musicali, ii (1982), 167–92

F. Giannattasio and R. Tucci: ‘Discografia della danza tradizionale in Italia’, Culture musicali, vii–viii (1985), 239–304

T. Magrini: ‘The Documentation of Italian Traditional Music in Records: 1955–1990’, YTM, xxii (1990), 172–84

For updated discography see the database of the website of Music & Anthropology 〈www.muspe.unibo.it/M&A〉

Ite missa est.

The formal dismissal of the Mass consisting of the words ‘Ite missa est’ (‘Go, you are dismissed’) answered by ‘Deo gratias’ (‘Thanks be to God’). The use of ‘missa’ in the sense of dismissal is quite ancient: by the early Middle Ages this meaning had been lost. Jungmann was thus of the opinion that ‘this formula is as old as the Latin Mass itself’; it certainly dates from at least the 4th century. In fact the very term ‘Mass’ (missa), which replaced the earlier ‘eucharistia’, is taken from this phrase. The Ite missa est is an element of the Ordinary and was originally sung or chanted at the end of every Mass. In the 11th century, however, a change took place that resulted in the inclusion of the Ite only in masses with a Gloria; on other occasions the Benedicamus Domino replaced it.

A number of melodies have survived (see Robertson for those in the service books of the abbey of St Denis), and there are 28 troped forms of the Ite in manuscripts from St Gallen and St Martial. The first source in which the Ite missa est is grouped with the other Ordinary chants is the 14th-century manuscript F-TLm 94, containing a collection of cyclic mass Ordinaries as well as a polyphonic mass, the so-called Mass of Toulouse; of the nine cycles, seven include the Ite missa est and two the Benedicamus Domino. With regard to the cycles of the Edition vaticana, Apel remarked that most of the Ite chants are identical to the Kyries in each cycle ‘thus bestowing upon the cycle a noteworthy trait of musical unity’. Apparently, there was a tradition of adopting Kyrie melodies for the Ite, although other chants were also used, both for the Ite missa est and for the Benedicamus Domino (see Hiley). There is, however, no evidence of an older tradition of such unified cycles; only two of the Ite chants in TLm 94 are like their associated Kyries. An interesting observation concerning Ite melodies was offered by Fischer who showed that the ‘Ite missa est V. toni’ is in fact a contrafactum of the Abgesang of the Minnesang Meie hât wünnechlîche entsproszen formerly ascribed to Neidhart von Reuental.

There are very few polyphonic settings, possibly because composers considered the Ite missa est a postlude and not really part of the Ordinary. The extant settings are all 14th-century, the most famous being that of Machaut’s Messe de Nostre Dame. Two other settings, in the Mass of Tournai and the Mass of Toulouse, are in fact motets with an ‘Ite missa est’ as tenor.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

J.A. Jungmann: Missarum sollemnia: eine genetische Erklärung der römischen Messe (Vienna1948, 5/1962; Eng. trans., 1951–5, abridged 2/1961)

W. Apel: Gregorian Chant (Bloomington, IN, 1958, 3/1966)

W. Fischer: ‘Die Herkunft des “Ite missa est” V. toni’, Festschrift Alfred Orel zum 70. Geburtstag, ed. H. Federhofer (Vienna, 1960), 67–72

H. Stäblein-Harder, ed.: Fourteenth-Century Mass Music in France, MSD, vii (1962)

R. Stephan: ‘Das Schlussstück der “Messe von Toulouse”’, Analysen: Beiträge zu einer Problemgeschichte des Komponierens: Festschrift für Hans Heinrich Eggebrecht, ed. W. Breig, R. Brinkmann and E. Budde (Wiesbaden, 1984), 40–45

A.W. Robertson: ‘The Transmission of Music and Liturgy from Saint-Denis to Saint-Corneille of Compiègne’, IMSCR XIV: Bologna 1987, iii, 505–14

C. Hospenthal: ‘Beobachtungen zu den Ite missa est im Tropenbestand der Handschriften aus dem Kloster Rheinau’, Schweizerisches Jb für Musikwissenschaft, new ser., x (1990), 11–18

A.W. Robertson: The Service-Books of the Royal Abbey of Saint-Denis: Images of Ritual and Music in the Middle Ages (Oxford, 1991)

D. Hiley: Western Plainchant: a Handbook (Oxford, 1993)

RICHARD SHERR

Iten [Itten], Wolfgang [Vital]

(b Unter-Ägeri, nr Zug, 18 Dec 1712; d Auw, Aargau, 2 Jan 1769). Swiss composer. He entered the school of the Benedictine monastery at Engelberg in 1725 and took his monastic vows on 20 February 1729. He was probably taught music by Ildephons Straumeyer, phonascus and choir director at Engelberg, and by the composer Benedikt Deuring between 1733 and 1736. Deuring’s sacred works were almost entirely lost in a fire at the monastery on 29 August 1729, together with works by Italian and south German composers (including Corelli, Steffani and J.V. Rathgeber), and after the fire Iten composed a new repertory. His first dated works are from December 1735. In 1737 he was made principal Kapellmeister at the monastery; he also played the trumpet.

The majority of Iten’s 149 extant works (most in CH-EN; some in E) are motets, offertories and Marian antiphons for soloists and choir, usually with two violins and organ; two works include parts for the Trumpet marine: Pastorella, 1738, and Aria de S.P.N. Benedicto, 1751. A Missa brevis solemnis (CH-E Eis.Mb.Th.199,36), dated 2 February 1739, has also been ascribed to him; it is for four voices and instruments (including two trumpets and timpani). Iten’s music exemplifies the prevailing, Neapolitan-influenced concertante style, including recitatives and arias. It is not without a certain elegance, though marred by the occasional clumsiness. He also provided Latin contrafacta for the 40 Italian arias op.1 by his friend Franz Joseph Leonti Meyer von Schauensee (1720–89) and wrote two German Passion plays. For one of these, intended for use on Good Friday 1757 by his congregation in Auw, where he had become parish priest in 1754, he also supplied songs (CH-EN Cod.294).

For a full account of Iten’s life and activities see J. Willimann: ‘Pater Wolfgang Iten (1712–1769), Mönch und Komponist des Klosters Engelberg’, Zuger Neujahrsblatt 1987, 83–111.

JOSEPH WILLIMANN

Itiberê, Brasílio (da Cunha Luz)

(b Curitiba, 17 May 1896; d Rio de Janeiro, 10 Dec 1967). Brazilian composer. Although he had had music lessons with Leo Kessler in his native city, he studied engineering in Rio de Janeiro and was self-taught in composition. In 1934 he settled in Rio, where he became intimately acquainted with popular music, studying the samba schools and using popular material in such works as O cravo tropical for two pianos (1944), some of whose rhythmic figures recall Nazareth’s tangos. His investigations of folk music were stimulated by his friendship with Villa-Lobos, who appointed him to teach folk music at the Conservatorio Nacional de Canto Orfeônico in 1942 (he had occupied a similar position at the Universidade do Distrito Federal from 1938). Itiberê’s small output was produced between 1934 and 1954. In the early works the characteristics of folk and popular music are clearly evident, but later they were transformed. His best music is in the choral works and the piano pieces, of which the Estudos have a high place in the Brazilian keyboard literature. The first is a study in syncopation, the fifth has the typical accompaniment figures of the popular chôro, and the sixth is in embolada style, with its repeated notes and octaves. Another major piano work is the Suite litúrgica negra, based on the ritual macumba music.

WORKS

(selective list)

Orch: Momento eufórico, 1951; Prelúdio vivaz, 1951

Choral: A infinita vigília, 3vv, 1941; A dor, meu senhor, 3vv, 1942: Rito do Irmão Pequeno, 3vv, 1942; Contemplação, chorus/female vv, orch, 1942; Canção, 3vv, 1943; I Couldn’t Hear Nobody Pray, 1943; Oração da noite, 3vv, 1945; O canto absoluto, 1947; Estâncias (C. Drummond de Andrade), 1947; Epigrama, 3vv, 1948; Ps cl, chorus, orch, 1954

Chbr: Pf Trio no.1, 1939; Introdução e allegro, fl, pf, str, 1945; Str Qt no.1, 1946; Duplo quinteto, wind qnt, str qt, db, 1946

Pf: Invocação, canto e dança, 1934; Poema, 1936; Toccata, 1937; Invençãono.1, pf/hpd, 1938; 6 estudos, 1939; Suite litúrgica negra, 1940; Rito do Irmão Pequeno [after chorus], 1942; O cravo tropical, 2 pf, 1944

Songs for 1v, pf: Ponteio para São João, 1938; Cordão de prata, 1939

Principal publisher: Associação Artística Brasileira

BIBLIOGRAPHY

V. Mariz: História da música no Brasil (Rio de Janeiro, 1981, 4/1994)

J.M. Neves: Música brasiliera contemporânea (São Paulo, 1981)

GERARD BÉHAGUE

Itier, Bernardus

(b 1163; d 27 Jan 1225). French chronicler of St Martial of Limoges and monk. Received as a boy scholar at St Martial in 1177, Itier held a succession of important offices, culminating in appointments as librarian (1204) and precentor (by 1211), posts he evidently held concurrently. Annotations in Itier's hand, scattered through surviving remnants of the St Martial library, testify to his interest in preserving the monastery books. One manuscript that he had bound includes a collection of early polyphonic music. Other musical manuscripts from the St Martial collection very probably owe their survival to his care.

Although not himself a professional scribe, Itier had charge of the monastery scriptorium and knew how to notate music. One composition in his hand, a Parisian motet based on the duplum of Perotinus's four-voice organum Sederunt (F-Pn lat.2208 f.1), shows a musical connection between Paris and St Martial in Itier’s lifetime. The chronicle written by Itier is a central source of information on the monastery.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

H. Duplès-Agier: Chroniques de Saint-Martial de Limoges (Paris, 1874)

M.-T. d’Alverny: ‘L'écriture de Bernard Itier et son évolution’, Medievalia et humanistica, xiv (1962), 47–54

M. Fassler: ‘The Office of the Cantor in Early Western Monastic Rules and Customaries: a Preliminary Investigation’, EMH, v (1985) 29–51

M. Fassler: Gothic Song (Cambridge, 1993), 110–13

SARAH FULLER

Iturbi, José

(b Valencia, 28 Nov 1895; d Hollywood, CA, 28 June 1980). Spanish pianist and conductor. He studied at the Valencia Conservatory and then with Victor Staub at the Paris Conservatoire, where he gained a premier prix in piano in 1913. During World War I he played in Swiss cafés, then taught at the Geneva Conservatoire, 1919–23. Extensive tours followed. He first played in the USA (where he settled) in 1928; in 1930 he gave 77 concerts on one American tour. In 1936 he was appointed conductor of the Rochester PO, a post he held for several seasons. His connection with films began when his fingers impersonated Chopin’s in A Song to Remember; he then appeared in several more films. He was the most famous Spanish pianist of his day, with a large popular following; in 1950 he became the first classical musician whose sales of a single record exceeded a million copies. Some critics held reservations about his Beethoven and Chopin, but his playing of the music of his native land was idiomatic, ebullient and vital. Iturbi composed a number of pieces in a Spanish idiom, including the Pequeña danza española for piano and a Seguidillas for orchestra. His sister Amparo (1898–1969), with whom he often performed, was also a pianist.

FRANK DAWES

Iturriaga, Enrique

(b Lima, 3 April 1918). Peruvian composer and teacher. He studied the piano with Lily Rosa and harmony with Sas (1934–9), and then composition with Holzmann at the National Conservatory of Music (1946–50); his studies were completed in Paris (1950–51) with Simone Plé-Caussade and Honegger. He was awarded the Duncker-Lavalle prize twice, the first time in 1947 for Canción y muerte de Rolando, the second for Homenaje a Stravinsky, and, in 1957, the Landaeta prize in Caracas for his Suite no.1 for orchestra. Appointed professor of composition and harmony at the National Conservatory in 1957, he also taught at the San Marcos University (1964–82), later becoming emeritus professor there, and at the Catholic University (1970–82). In addition, he has collaborated with UNESCO on many regional projects to train music teachers.

Each work in Iturriaga's relatively small output addresses anew the problem of finding a personal style which at the same time expresses the multi-culturalism of Peru. In the early Pequeña suite, Preludio y danza and Obertura para una comedia, he stylizes popular genres, occasionally resorting to irony. In the Suite (1957) the references are more fragmented and dramatic, the rhythm more pronounced and the orchestration characterized by sudden shifts and contrasts. The Homenaje a Stravinsky for orchestra without upper strings and cajón (1971) is an example of Iturriaga's interest in building textures out of multiple instrumental planes; while the later Llamada y fuga para un santiago (1990) shows him still employing popular materials in an individual fashion, using an objective and analytical fugal form to arrive at a traditional three-part melody. Iturriaga's musical language has remained, for the most part, one of extended tonality – displaying the use of ‘Arequipa 3rds’, major and minor 3rds superimposed or juxtaposed to produce bimodal passages – or polytonality. The sober Webern-like serialism of Vivencias I–IV (1965), notable for its invention and expressivity, is an isolated example. Throughout his career his vocal writing has remained an important element, in particular in the Ejercicios poéticos (1951) and the Cuatro poemas de Javier Heraud (1977).

WORKS

(selective list)

Ballets: Estudio; La muerte del Inti

Orch: Preludio y danza, 1954; Suite no.1, 1957; Obertura para una comedia, 1964, arr. as Tango, 2 pf, 1966; Vivencias I–IV, 1965; Homenaje a Stravinsky, cajón, orch, 1971; Sinfonía Junín-Ayacucho, 1974

Vocal: Canción y muerte de Rolando (J. Eielson), S, orch, 1947; 4 canciones sobre temas tradicionales infantiles (trad.), chorus, 1950; 2 ejercicios poéticos (Eielson), S, pf, 1951; 3 canciones (trad., trans. J.M. Arguedas), chorus, orch, 1956, rev. 1971; Las cumbres (S. Salazar Bondy), chorus, 1960; 4 poemas de Javier Heraud, Mez, pf, 1977; 3 adivinanzas (trad.), chorus (Lima, 1989); De la lírica campesina (trad.), Mez, orch, 1994; Disiertos (Hopkins), chorus, 1996

Chbr and solo inst: Pequeña suite, vn, vc, 1947; Pregón y danza, pf, 1953; 4 expresiones, vn, 1970; Llamada y fuga para un santiago, brass qt, 1990

Incid music: Dos viejas van por la calle (Salazar Bondy); Ifigenia en el mercado (Salazar Bondy); Santiago, el pajarero (Ribeyro)

Film scores: La ciudad y los perros (dir. F.J. Lombardi), 1985; Atusparia (dir. J.L. Rouillón); Las botellas y los hombres (dir. J. Huayhuaca); El Ichikolo; José Maria Eguren, pintor (dir. Rouillón)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

G. Béhague: Music in Latin America: an Introduction (Englewood Cliffs, NJ, 1979)

E. Pinilla: ‘Informe sobre la música en el Perú’, Historia del Perú, ix, ed. J. Mejía Baca (Lima, 1980), 363–677

E. Iturriaga: Método de composición melódica (Lima, 1985)

E. Pinilla: ‘La música en el siglo XX’, La música en el Perú (Lima, 1985), 125–213

J. CARLOS ESTENSSORO

Ivanoff [Ivanov], Nicola [Nikolay] (Kuz'mich)

(b Poltava, 10/22 Oct 1810; d Bologna, 7 July 1880). Russian tenor. A singer in the imperial chapel, St Petersburg, he was given leave of absence to accompany Glinka to Italy in 1830, and never returned to Russia. He studied with Eliodorn Bianchi, Andrea Nozzari and Panofka, making his début at the S Carlo on 6 July 1832 as Percy in Anna Bolena. He first sang in Paris at the Théâtre Italien in 1833 as Gianetto in La gazza ladra and made his London début on 15 April 1834 as Percy at the King's Theatre.

Ivanoff passed the remaining years of his career mainly in Italy. In 1840 he sang in Guillaume Tell (given as Rodolfo di Sterlinga) at Bologna, where on 19 March 1841 he took part in a performance of Rossini's Stabat mater conducted by Donizetti. Engaged at Palermo, he sang Riccardo in the première of Pacini's Maria, regina d'Inghilterra (11 February 1843), and made his début at La Scala in the same opera (26 December). In the summer of 1844 he appeared at the Kärntnertortheater, Vienna, in two Donizetti operas, Maria di Rohan and Roberto Devereux. At Parma the same year he sang the title role of Ernani, with an extra aria, commissioned from Verdi and paid for by Rossini, who had adopted the tenor as his protégé. He repeated Ernani at the Teatro Apollo, Rome, in 1845. In 1846 at Trieste he sang Foresto in Attila, again with an extra aria commissioned from Verdi by Rossini. He returned to Rome (1847–8), Paris (1850) and to Palermo (1852), but by then his voice had nearly gone, and he had to be replaced after two performances.

At the beginning of his career Ivanoff had, to quote Chorley, ‘the sweetest voice, as a gentle tenor, that ever sang in Italian or Muscovite throat. Nothing could be more delicious as to tone – more neat as to execution: nothing, assuredly, ever so closely approached an automaton not wound up, as did he, on the stage, by his insignificance of aspect, and his nullity of demeanour’. When later he attempted heavier roles, his voice lost its bloom, but he gained in stage experience and dramatic conviction.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

H.F. Chorley: Thirty Years' Musical Recollections (London, 1862/R, abridged 2/1926/R by E. Newman)

H. Panofka: Voix et chanteurs (Paris, c1870)

F. de Filippis and R. Arnese: Cronache del Teatro di S Carlo 1737–1960 (Naples, 1961–3)

J. Budden: The Operas of Verdi, i: from Oberto to Rigoletto (London, 1973, 3/1992)

D. Brown: Mikhail Glinka (London, 1974/R)

ELIZABETH FORBES

Ivanov, Georgi.

See Tutev, Georgi.

Ivanov, Lev Ivanovich

(b St Petersburg, 18 Feb/2 March 1834; d St Petersburg, 11/24 Dec 1901). Russian choreographer. See Ballet, §2(iv).

Ivanov, Mikhail Mikhaylovich (i)

(b Moscow, 23 Sept 1849; d Rome, 20 Oct 1927). Russian critic and composer. He graduated from the Institute of Technology in St Petersburg in 1869 and then studied for a year at the Moscow Conservatory, where he attended Tchaikovsky’s composition classes and took piano lessons from Dubuque. From 1870 to 1875 he studied with Sgambati in Rome; during these years he associated with Liszt and his circle of pupils and admirers. On his return to St Petersburg, he began to submit articles on musical topics to the St Petersburg press. In 1879 he edited the musical journal Voskresnïy listok muzïki i ob’yavieniy, but the following year he was engaged as permanent music critic on the Novoye vremya. His lively and informed articles appeared regularly in that paper until 1918. Conservative in his outlook on music, he adopted a hostile attitude towards the so-called National School. His often ironic and scathing reviews of new music earned him the dislike of many composers.

Ivanov wrote four operas (three of which were performed with some success), several competent if uninspired orchestral works, some choral pieces and some songs. His compositional style has been described as a pale imitation of that of Tchaikovsky. He wrote a history of music in Russia, Istoriya muzïkal’novo razvitiya v Rossii (St Petersburg, 1910–12), and articles on Italian literature, and translated into Russian Hanslick’s Vom Musikallsch-Schönen (a work which had a profound influence on him as a critic) and Nohl’s Die geschichtliche Entwickiung der Kammermusik. After the Revolution he emigrated to Italy, where he lived quietly until his death.

WRITINGS

selective list

Istoricheskoye razvitiye kamernoy muzïki i eyo znacheniye dlya muzïkanta [The historical development of chamber music and its importance for the musician] (St Petersburg, 1885) [trans. of K. Nohl: Die geschichtliche Entwicklung der Kammermusik, Brunswick, 1885]

O muzïkal’no-prekrasnom (St Petersburg, 1885) [trans. of E. Hanslick: Vom Musikalisch-Schönen, Leipzig, 1870]

with P.D. Perepelitsïn: Muzïkal’naya pamyatnaya i zapisnaya knizhka [A book of musical recollections and notes] (St Petersburg, 1887)

Istoricheskiy ocherk pyatidesyatiletney deyatel’nosti muzïkal’novo zhurnala ‘Nuvellist’ [Historical survey of 50 years’ activity of the music journal Nouvelliste] (St Petersburg, 1889)

Pushkin v muzïke [Pushkin in music] (St Petersburg, 1889)

Pamyati Friderika Shopena [In memory of Chopin] (St Petersburg, 1908)

Istoriya muzïkal’novo razvitiya v Rossii [The history of the development of music in Russia] (St Petersburg, 1910–12)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

G.B. Bernandt and I.M. Yampol’sky: Kto pisal o muzïke [Writers on music], i (Moscow, 1971) [contains a complete list of writings]

JENNIFER SPENCER

Ivanov, Mikhail Mikbaylovich (ii).

See Ippolitov–ivanov, mikhail mikhaylovich.

Ivanov-Boretsky, Mikhail Vladimirovich

(b Moscow, 4/16 June 1874; d Moscow, 1 April 1936). Russian music historian and composer. He studied law at St Petersburg University, graduating in 1896, and music at the St Petersburg Conservatory, where his teachers included Rimsky-Korsakov. In 1901 he went to Italy to study at the Florence Conservatory; this fired in him an interest in Italian music and inspired him to write his first book, a short monograph on Palestrina. In 1905 he returned to Russia, where he undertook teaching commitments in Moscow and was a council member of the music theory department at the Institute for the History of the Arts in Petrograd. At about the same time he produced a number of compositions; almost all have remained in manuscript, and include a Symphonic Suite (1893), the operas Adol'fina (1908) and Koldun'ya (‘The Sorceress’, 1913; performed St Petersburg, 1918), chamber music, piano pieces, choral works and songs. In 1922 he was appointed dean of the faculty of theory and composition at the Moscow Conservatory, and under his supervision the research department was founded (1923).

Ivanov-Boretsky is considered to be the founder of the Moscow school of music historians; he taught many well-known Russian musicologists, including Livanova and Tumanina, who later became professors at the conservatory. He was the first Russian musicologist to write extensively on Western music, and early in his career produced a number of popular pamphlets on Mendelssohn, Schumann, Josquin and others. He followed these with more generalized studies of music history, which formed the foundation of the teaching courses he established at the conservatory.

WRITINGS

‘Zabïtïy muzïkant: Ė.T.A. Gofman’ [A forgotten musician: Hoffmann], RMG, xv (1908), 737–45, 773–8, 873–7, 903–7; repr. in Muzïkal'noye obozrenye, i–ii (1926)

Palestrina (Moscow, 1909)

Gendel' [Handel] (Moscow, 1910)

Mendel'son (Moscow, 1910)

Ocherki istorii messï [An essay on the history of the mass] (Moscow, 1910)

Shuman (Moscow, 1910)

Zhoskin de Pre (Moscow, 1910)

‘Muzïkal'naya nauka v Germanii za vremya s nachala voynï do 1921g.’ [Music research in Germany from the beginning of the war until 1921], K novïm beregam, no.2 (1923), 48–52

Karmen: opera Bize (Moscow, 1924)

‘Russie’, Bulletin de la Société ‘Union musicologique’, iv (1924), 162–72

Tablitsï po obshchey istorii muzïki [Tables on the general history of music], i (Moscow, 1924)

Pervobïtnoye muzïkal'noye iskusstvo [Primitive music] (Moscow, 1925, 2/1929)

Pyat' let nauchnoy rabotï Gosudarstvennogo Instituta Muzïkal'noy Nauki 1921–6 [Five years of research in the State Institute for Musical Research] (Moscow, 1926)

Betkhoven: k 100-letiyu so dnya smerti 1827–1927 [Beethoven: on the centenary of his death] (Moscow, 1927)

‘Ein Moskauer Skizzenbuch von Beethoven’, Muzikal'noye obrazovanige (1927), nos.1–2, pp.7–58 [facs.], 59–91 [commentary in Russ. and Ger.]

‘Val'sï Shuberta: opït stilisticheskogo issledovaniya’ [Schubert’s waltzes: an attempt at stylistic analysis], Venok Shubertu 1828–1928: ėtyudï i materialï, ed. K. Kuznetsov (Moscow, 1928), 34–51

Choix de morceaux de musique des siècles passés (Moscow, 1929)

Muzïkal'no-istoricheskaya khrestomatiya [The history of music: a reader] (Moscow, 1929, enlarged 2/1933–6)

Materialï i dokumentï po istorii muzïki,, ii: XVIII vek, Italiya, Frantsiya, Germaniya, Angliya [Documents and other material on the history of music, ii: the 18th century in Italy, France, Germany and England] (Moscow, 1934)

‘Ot operï k oratorii: k 200-letiyu so dnya rozhdeniya Georga Friderika Gendelya’ [From opera to oratorio: on the 250th anniversary of Handel’s birth], SovM (1935), no.3, pp.30–38

ed. T. Livanova: Stat'i i issledovaniya: vospominaniya o nyom [Articles and research: reminiscences about him] (Moscow, 1972)

(b Moscow, 26 Aug 1912; d Minsk, 11 April 1973). Russian guitarist and composer. He studied the guitar with Agafoshin, a student of Segovia, composition with Rechmensky and conducting with Saradzhev. His concert career began in 1933, but he toured very little outside the USSR. He made several recordings and composed over 500 works, including two concertos and other works for the guitar, which reveal him as an excellent musician and an accomplished technician. He was a leading figure in the establishment of the classical guitar in Russia, and his self-study method (1948) is still used there. His daughter, Nataliya Ivanova-Kramskaya, described his life in Zhizn' posvyatil gitare: Vospominaniya ob otse [A life dedicated to the guitar: memories of my father] (Moscow, 1995).

JOHN W. DUARTE

Ivanovs, Jānis

(b Preiļi, nr Daugavpils, 9 Oct 1906; d Riga, 27 March 1983). Latvian composer. He graduated in 1931 from Vītols’s composition class and Schnéevoigt’s orchestral conducting class at the Latvian State Conservatory, where he remained until 1933 in Vītols’s practical composition class. From 1931 he worked for Latvian radio, and from 1945 to 1963 he was artistic director of the Latvian radio committee. He was appointed to teach composition at the conservatory in 1944, was made professor in 1955 and continued to teach there until 1983. He was president of the committee of the Soviet Latvian Composers’ Union, 1950–51.

Ivanovs worked primarily in symphonic genres, the 21 symphonies standing at the core of his oeuvre. Deeply humanistic thought is evident in his orchestral works, where the language is characterized by broad melodies frequently rooted in the old scales of Latvian folk music, a lyrically dramatic expressiveness and rich textures. In his early works, those of the 1930s, he was to a certain extent subject to Impressionist influences and wrote programme works on the natural features and people of his native province of Latgale, occasionally using folksong melodies. His first three symphonies are also from this period, though the first two were lost in the war years. With his Fourth Symphony ‘Atlantīda’ (1941), he arrived at an innovatory monumental concept of symphonism which marked a new stage in the development of Latvian symphonic music. His Fifth Symphony (1945) reflects the experiences of the war years. As a result of the communist party's decree against formalistic music in 1948, performances of Ivanovs's fourth and fifth symphonies were for many years prohibited. The Sixth, ‘Latgales’ (1949), illustrates scenes of the sufferings and final freedom of his native land; for this he was awarded the USSR State Prize in 1950. Power, energy and lyricism characterize the Seventh (1953) and Eighth (1956). In the Ninth, Tenth and Eleventh, Ivanovs became more deeply involved with psychological and philosophical concepts, and his musical language evolved towards a more complex harmony, making use of polytonality and linear polyphony. His next symphonies deal with wider social themes, the Thirteenth, Symphonia humana (1969), being dedicated to Lenin. Nos.14–16, however, reveal a tendency towards simpler forms and are in more of a chamber style. The music of the final symphonies synthesizes dramatic style with sophisticated, lyrical scenes and reminiscences transformed from his early works. Ivanovs's chamber music is characterized by weighty musical ideas, a vivid dramatic quality and laconic form.

WORKS

(selective list)

Syms.: nos.1–2, lost; no.3, c1938; no.4 ‘Atlantīda’, 1941; no.5, 1945; no.6 ‘Latgales’, 1949; no.7, 1953; no.8, 1956; no.9, c1960; no.10, c1963; no.11, c1965; no.12 (Sinfonia energica), 1967; no.13 (Symphonia humana), 1969; no.14 (Sinfonia da camera), 1971; no.15 (Symphonia ipsa), 1972; no.16, 1974; no.17, 1976; no.18, 1977; no.19, 1979; no.20, 1981; no.21, 1983, inc., orchd 1984 J. Karlsons

Other orch works: Zilie ezeri [The Blue Lakes], suite, 1935; Padebešu kalns [Hill above the Clouds], sym. poem, 1938; Vc Conc., 1938; Varavīksne [Rainbow], 1939; Rāzna, brass band, 1940; Svinīgā prelūdija [Solemn Prelude], 1940; Vn Conc., 1951; Salna pavasarī [Frost in Spring], suite, 1955 [from film score]; Lāčplēsis, sym. poem, 1957; Pf Conc., 1959; Poema luttuoso, str, 1966

Chbr and solo inst: 3 str qts, 1933, 1946, 1961; Variations, e, pf, 1948; Variations-études, pf, 1959; Sonata brevis, pf, 1962; 24 Sketches, pf, 1967–72; Pf Trio, 1976

Vocal: choral and solo songs

Principal publishers: Liesma, Muzgiz, Muzyka, Sovetskij kompozitor

BIBLIOGRAPHY

N. Gryunfel'd: Yanis Ivanov (Moscow, 1959)

V. Bērziņa: Dzīves simfonija [A symphony of life] (Riga, 1964)

L. Kārkliņš: Jāņa Ivanova simfonisms [The symphonic music of J. Ivanovs] (Riga, 1990)

JĒKABS VĪTOLIŅŠ

Ivanschiz [Ivanschitz, Ivanschütz, Ivanscics, Ivančić, Ivančič], Amandus

(fl mid-18th century). Austrian composer of south Slav extraction. Only fragmentary information about his life is available. A Pauline monk, he was a member of the Maria Trost monastery near Graz by 1755. He was evidently a prolific and popular composer: there survive about 100 works by him in manuscripts, dating mostly from 1762 to 1772 and scattered throughout the Habsburg Empire and in south Germany. His music is characteristic of the transition from late Baroque to early Classical style, and his best works are his masses and symphonies. The masses are mostly scored for four soloists, four-part choir, two violins and bass and a pair of trumpets; some are of considerable dimensions, and they show distinct Neapolitan traits. The symphonies, many of which have four movements, are scored for strings, sometimes with a pair of trumpets or horns. The trios, entitled variously ‘Divertimento’, ‘Nocturno’, ‘Sinfonia’, ‘Sonata’ and ‘Parthia’, are mostly in three movements in the same key; Ivanschiz’s frequent use of the viola as the second solo instrument is a forward-looking trait.

WORKS

(selective list)

principal sources: A-Gd, KR; CZ-Bm, Pnm; D-KA; H-Bn, PH; SQ-BRnm, J

Sacred 21 masses, incl. Missa solemnis S Caeciliae, Missa festiva S Antonii de Padua, Missa solemnissima S Otttiliae, Missa S Vivinae, Missa pastorita; 19 Litaniae Lauretanae; 7 orats de S Aloysio, S Ignatio, S Xaverio; TeD; Motetto de Beata Virgine Maria; Gemitus crucifixi Jesu Nazareni (cant.)

Inst: 23 syms., 12 ed. in Spomenici hrvatske glazbene prošlosti, ii, vi, vii (Zagreb, 1971–6), 2 ed. in The Symphony 1720–1840, ser. B, xiv (New York, 1985); 16 trios, 8 ed. in MAMS, i, iii (1983–4) [2 actually by Franz Asplmayr, 3 entitled syms.], 7 listed in Breitkopf catalogue, 1767

BIBLIOGRAPHY

MGG1 (H. Federhofer) [incl. fuller list of works]

T. Straková: ‘O neznámém skladateli předklasického údobí (P. Amandus Ivanschitz a jeho vztah k otázce vývoje sonátové formy na naší pudě)’ [About an unknown composer of the pre-Classical era (Ivanschiz and his contribution to the development of sonata form on our soil)], ČMm, xxxiv (1949), 218–29

D. Pokorn: Amandus Ivančič in njegovo posvetno skladateljsko delo [Ivanschiz and his secular output] (diss., U. of Ljubljana, 1977)

D. Pokorn: ‘Amandus Ivančič (Ivanschiz): prispevek k poznavanju glasbe zgodnjega klasicizma’ [Ivanschiz: a contribution to our knowledge of early Classical music], Evropski glasbeni klasicizem in njegov odmev na Slovenskem/Der eruopäische Musikklassizismus und sein Widerhall in Slowenien: Ljubljana 1988, 63–73 [with Ger. summary]

DANILO POKORN

Iversen, Henri.

See Schultze, Norbert.

Ives, Charles (Edward)

(b Danbury, CT, 20 Oct 1874; d New York, 19 May 1954). American composer. His music is marked by an integration of American and European musical traditions, innovations in rhythm, harmony and form, and an unparalleled ability to evoke the sounds and feelings of American life. He is regarded as the leading American composer of art music of the 20th century.

2. Youth, 1874–94.

3. Apprenticeship, 1894–1902.

4. Innovation and synthesis, 1902–8.

5. Maturity, 1908–18.

6. Last works, 1918–1927.

7. Revisions and premières, 1927–54.

WORKS

WRITINGS

J. PETER BURKHOLDER (work-list with JAMES B. SINCLAIR and GAYLE SHERWOOD)

1. Unusual aspects of Ives’s career.

Ives had an extraordinary working life. After professional training as an organist and composer, he worked in insurance for 30 years, composing in his free time. He used a wide variety of styles, from tonal Romanticism to radical experimentation, even in pieces written during the same period. His major works often took years from first sketch to final revisions, and most pieces lay unperformed for decades. His self-publications in the early 1920s brought a small group of admirers who worked to promote his music. He soon ceased to compose new works, focussing instead on revising and preparing for performance the works he had already drafted. By his death he had received many performances and honours, and much of his music had been published. His reputation continued to grow posthumously, and by his centenary in 1974 he was recognized worldwide as the first composer to create a distinctively American art music. Since then his music has been frequently performed and recorded and his reputation has broadened further, resting less on his innovations and nationality and more on the intrinsic merits of his music.

The unique circumstances of Ives’s career have bred misunderstandings. His work in insurance, combined with the diversity of his output and the small number of performances during his composing years, led to an image of Ives as an amateur. Yet he had a 14-year career as a professional organist and thorough formal training in composition. Since he developed as a composer out of the public eye, his mature works seemed radical and unconnected to the past when they were first published and performed. However, as his earlier music has become known, his deep roots in 19th-century European Romanticism and his gradual development of a highly personal modern idiom have become clear. The first of Ives’s major works to appear in performance and publication, such as Orchestral Set no.1: Three Places in New England, the Concord Sonata, and movements of the Symphony no.4 and A Symphony: New England Holidays, were highly complex, incorporated diverse musical styles and made frequent use of musical borrowing. These characteristics led some to conclude that Ives’s music could be understood only through the programmatic explanations he offered and was not organized on specifically musical principles. Yet by tracing the evolution of his techniques through his earlier works, scholars have demonstrated the craft that underlies even seemingly chaotic scores and have shown the close relationship of his procedures to those of his European predecessors and contemporaries.

One result of Ives’s unusual path is that the chronology of his music is difficult to establish beyond general outlines. His practice of composing and reworking pieces over many years often makes it impossible to assign a piece a single date. That he worked on many compositions and in many idioms simultaneously makes the chronological relationships between works still more complex. There is often no independent verification of the dates Ives assigned to his works, which can be years or decades before the first performance or publication. It has been suggested, too, that he dated many pieces too early and concealed significant revisions in order to claim priority over European composers who used similar techniques (Solomon, C1987) or to hide from his business associates how much time he was spending on music in the 1920s (Swafford, C1996). Recent scholarship, however, has established firmer dates for the types of music paper Ives used and refined estimated dates for various forms of his handwriting, allowing most manuscripts to be placed within a brief span of years (Sherwood, C1994 and E1995, building on Kirkpatrick, A1960, and Baron, C1990). These methods have often come to support Ives’s dates, confirming that he did indeed develop numerous innovative techniques before his European counterparts, including polytonality, tone-clusters, chords based on 4ths or 5ths, atonality and polyrhythm. Where a discrepancy exists – in the case of several longer works for example – this may well result from his practice of dating pieces by their initial conception, the first ideas worked out at the keyboard or in sketches now lost. The dates provided here are, then, estimates based on the manuscripts when extant, supplemented by contemporary documents and Ives’s testimony.

2. Youth, 1874–94.

The Iveses were one of Danbury’s leading families, prominent in business and civic improvement and active in social causes, such as the abolition of slavery. Ives’s father George E. Ives (1845–94) was exceptional in making music a career. He took lessons in the flute, violin, piano and cornet, following which, during 1860–62, he studied harmony, counterpoint and orchestration with the German-born musician Carl Foeppl in New York. After Civil War service as the youngest bandmaster in the Union Army and two more years in New York, he returned to Danbury and pursued a variety of musical activities, performing, teaching and leading bands, orchestras and choirs in and near Danbury, and sometimes touring with travelling shows. He also worked in businesses connected to the Ives family. He married Mary (‘Mollie’) Elizabeth Parmalee (1849–1929) on 1 January 1874, and Charles was born late the same year, followed by J. Moss (1876–1939), who became a lawyer and judge in Danbury.

Through his father, Ives was exposed to the entire range of music-making in Danbury. He studied the piano and organ from a young age with a series of teachers and was playing in recitals by his early teens. He became an accomplished performer and composer in two musical traditions, American vernacular music and Protestant church music, and gained his first exposure to a third, European classical music. Additionally, he was an avid athlete and was captain of several baseball and football teams. Ives played the drums with his father’s band, and the spirit of band performance echoes in many works of his maturity. He wrote marches for piano, band and theatre orchestra, several of which adopt the then common practice of setting a popular song in one section of the march. His first publicly performed piece may have been the march Holiday Quickstep, written when he was 13; the review in the Danbury Evening News of the January 1888 première called him ‘certainly a musical genius’ and declared ‘we shall expect more from this talented youngster in the future’.

At the age of 14 he became the youngest salaried church organist in the state, and he worked regularly as one until 1902. He wrote anthems and sacred songs for church services, at first using hymn texts and a hymn-like style (as in Psalm 42), and then from about 1893 (in works such as Crossing the Bar) adopting the more elaborate and chromatic style of Dudley Buck, with whom he briefly studied the organ around 1895. The hymns he knew from church and from camp-meeting revivals, where his father sometimes led the singing with his cornet, he later regularly borrowed or reworked as themes in sonatas, quartets and symphonies. He heard some classical music in concert performances in both Danbury and New York and learnt rather more through his own study and performance of works by Bach, Handel, Beethoven, Rossini, Schubert, Mendelssohn, Wagner, John Knowles Paine and others on the piano or organ, including many transcriptions. His virtuoso Variations on ‘America’ (1891–2) shows just how skilled an organist Ives was while still in his late teens.

Although he had many teachers for performance, his father taught him harmony and counterpoint and guided his first compositions. Several of these take existing works as models, following the traditional practice of learning through imitation, such as the Polonaise for two cornets and piano (c1887–9), modelled on the sextet from Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor. At the same time, Ives’s father had an open mind about musical theory and practice and encouraged his son’s experimentation. Bitonal harmonizations of London Bridge, polytonal canons and fugues, and experiments with whole-tone pieces, triads in parallel motion and chromatic lines moving in contrary motion to create expanding or contracting wedges, all dating from the early 1890s, show Ives’s interest in testing the rules of traditional music by trying out alternative systems. At the time, however, Ives apparently conceived of this merely as playing with music theory, a private activity shared primarily with his father, rather than regarding these new systems as a serious basis for composing concert music. On still another musical plane, it was his father whom he credited with teaching him the songs of Stephen Foster, whose tunes he would later borrow and whose simple diatonic lyricism informs many of Ives’s own melodies.

Ives moved to New Haven in early 1893 to attend Hopkins Grammar School and prepare for entrance examinations at Yale (fig.1). He was the organist at St Thomas’s Episcopal Church for a year, and then moved to Center Church on the Green in September 1894, the same month he matriculated at Yale. Just six weeks later, on 4 November, his father died suddenly of a stroke. Leaving home, starting university, and especially the death of his principal teacher and supporter marked a sharp break from the past and the end of his youth.

3. Apprenticeship, 1894–1902.

Ives began his time at Yale as a virtuoso organist and an experienced composer of popular and church music but with limited exposure to classical music. He continued to compose vernacular works including songs, marches, and glee club and fraternity-show numbers. Several works were published, including an 1896 campaign song for William McKinley. His church music also grew in maturity, as he gradually adopted the elevated choral style of his teacher at Yale, Horatio Parker, in works such as All-Forgiving, look on me. The choirmaster at Center Church, John Cornelius Griggs, became a supportive colleague and lifelong friend. But it was in classical music that he learnt the most. For the first time, he had regular access to chamber and orchestral concerts. He apparently audited Parker’s courses in harmony and music history during his first two years, and then studied counterpoint, strict composition and instrumentation, sometimes as the only registered student. Comparison of his earlier exercises with the works of his last term shows how much he learnt from Parker. Like Ives’s father, Parker encouraged mastering styles and genres through imitation. Ives assimilated the German lied by resetting texts from well-known examples, typically incorporating some aspects of the model’s structure or contour while seeking a different figuration and mood. He later recalled that his Feldeinsamkeit (c1897–8) earned the praise of Parker’s teacher George Chadwick for taking ‘a more difficult and almost opposite approach’ that was ‘in its way almost as good as Brahms’ and ‘as good a song as [Parker] could write’.

Ives began his Symphony no.1 under Parker, and later recalled that the second and fourth movements were accepted as his final thesis. In this work there are strong echoes of the symphonic masterpieces he used as models, especially Schubert’s ‘Unfinished’ in the first movement, Dvořák’s ‘New World’ in the slow movement and the work as a whole, Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony in the scherzo, and Tchaikovsky’s ‘Pathétique’ in the finale, yet even the most direct references are reworked in fresh and interesting ways. Ives owed to Parker his new-found skills in counterpoint, thematic development, orchestration and composing large forms, along with the concept, foreign to the utilitarian music of Danbury, of music as an experience to be savoured for its own sake. The simultaneous citation of the familiar and assertion of an individual personality is a distinguishing Ives trait, evident even in the music he wrote in a late-Romantic style. This work also set the pattern for Ives’s later symphonies and for many of his sonatas in linking movements through the cyclic repetition of themes.

Although he studied music diligently, Ives may not have intended to make music his career. He took the usual round of Greek, Latin, German, French, mathematics, history and political science, and remembered especially fondly his English and American literature courses with William Lyon Phelps, who helped to form Ives’s taste in poetry. A Yale education was seen as a preparation for success in business, and much of the social life on the all-male campus was organized around groups through which one could develop friendships and potentially useful connections. Ives was no great scholar outside his music courses, but he was well-regarded and socially successful, chosen as a member of the Delta Kappa Epsilon fraternity and of Wolf’s Head, one of the most prestigious of Yale’s secret senior societies. Songs of both groups figure in later works recalling his college days, such as in Calcium Light Night and the middle movement of the Trio for Violin, Violoncello and Piano. One of his best friends was David Twichell, who invited him to Keene Valley in the Adirondacks for a family vacation in August 1896; there Ives met his future wife, David’s sister Harmony (1876–1969). After graduation in 1898, he moved to New York, living for the next decade in a series of apartments, all wryly dubbed Poverty Flat, with other bachelors with Yale connections. Through his father’s cousin, Ives gained a position in the actuarial department of the Mutual Insurance Company. In early 1899 he moved to Charles H. Raymond and Co., agents for Mutual, where he worked with sales agents and developed ways to present the idea of insurance. There he met Julian Myrick (1880–1969), who would later become his partner.

While working in insurance, Ives did not give up all hope of a musical career. He continued to serve as an organist, first in Bloomfield, New Jersey (where for the first time he was also choirmaster), and then from 1900 at the Central Presbyterian Church in New York, a prestigious post. After university, he ceased writing vernacular music and sought to consolidate his training as a composer of art music in the Parker mould. He continued to write lieder to established texts and composed a seven-movement cantata, The Celestial Country, modelled on Parker’s oratorio Hora novissima, whose 1893 première had established Parker’s reputation.

He also pursued some new avenues. Parker had focussed on German music; now Ives wrote French chansons, modelled on those of composers such as Massenet. He reworked some of the German songs with new English texts; it would become characteristic of him to reshape older pieces into newer ones, often in different media. In similar fashion, he developed what may have been church service music from his Yale years into a string quartet that used paraphrased hymn tunes as themes. The opening theme of the First Symphony had used elements of two hymns, but the String Quartet no.1 established the pattern for many later works in that it grew completely out of music he had written for the church, and derived virtually every one of its themes from a hymn tune source. Unaltered hymn tunes were too predictable and repetitive in rhythm, melody and harmony to serve well as themes for movements in classical forms, so Ives ingeniously reshaped them into irregular, Brahmsian themes ripe for development, while preserving a hymn-like, American character. Ex.1 shows the derivation of the opening theme of the third movement from its source, the hymn-tune Nettleton (‘Come, Thou Fount of Ev’ry Blessing’). With this work Ives began to integrate the different traditions he had learnt, bringing the spirit and sound of Protestant hymnody into the realm of art music.

Most remarkably, Ives’s experimentation took on a new seriousness. Armed with techniques learnt from Parker and perhaps inspired by the compositional systems of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance that Parker described in his music history lectures, such as organum, counterpoint and rhythmic stratification (Scott, 1994), Ives began to produce, not mere sketches or improvised ‘stunts’, but finished pieces that explore new procedures. Most significant is a series of sacred choral works, mainly psalm-settings, that Ives may have tried out with singers where he was organist, although no performances are registered. Psalm 67 uses transformations of a five-note chord (arranged to create the impression of bitonality) to harmonize a simple melody in a style resembling Anglican chant. Psalm 150 features parallel triads that are dissonant against sustained triads. Psalm 25 deploys angular, dissonant two-voice canons over pedal points and includes a whole-tone passage that expands from a unison to a whole-tone cluster spanning almost three octaves. In Psalm 24 the outer voices move in contrary motion, expanding from a unison in each successive phrase and moving first by semitones (often displaced by octaves), then by whole tones, 3rds, 4ths, 4ths and tritones, and finally 5ths; after the golden section of the work, there is a contraction, phrase by phrase, using the same intervals in reverse order, to make an approximate palindrome.

Each piece finds new ways to establish a tonal centre, create harmonic motion and resolution, and regulate counterpoint. The technique chosen often responds to the text; for example, the central image of Processional: Let There Be Light is perfectly conveyed by the procession of chords formed of 2nds, 3rds, 4ths and 5ths, through increasingly dissonant chords of 6ths and 7ths, to pure octaves. In these systematic experiments in compositional method, Ives established what was to become a 20th-century tradition of experimental composition, one that included the work of Cowell, Charles Seeger, Ruth Crawford Seeger, Cage, and many later composers. These experimental works remained distinct from his concert music, which continued to use the language of European Romanticism.

The climax of Ives’s apprenticeship was the première of The Celestial Country at the Central Presbyterian Church in April 1902, his most ambitious piece to be performed up to that point. It received pleasant, if mild, reviews from the New York Times and Musical Courier. Yet soon after, Ives resigned as organist, the last professional position in music he was to hold. He left behind much of his church music, later discarded by the church, so that what survives of his anthems, songs and organ music for services is only part of what may have been a much larger body of work. Ives apparently concluded that he did not want or would not achieve a career like that of Parker, who survived as a composer by serving as a church organist and teaching at Yale. He would later ironically describe this as the time he ‘resigned as a nice organist and gave up music’.

4. Innovation and synthesis, 1902–8.

Leaving his church position freed evenings and weekends for composition, and forgoing regular performance allowed Ives freedom to explore without having to please anyone but himself. No longer a Parker apprentice, nor a composer of popular or sacred music, Ives entered a period of innovation and synthesis.

He continued experimenting, especially now in chamber music, whose greater range of sonorities allowed him to extend traditional counterpoint and increase the independence between the parts to create an effect of separate layers. Works such as the Fugue in Four Keys on ‘The Shining Shore’, From the Steeples and the Mountains, Largo risoluto nos.1 and 2, and The Unanswered Question display polytonal and atonal canons, multiple layers distinguished by rhythm, pitch content and sonority, and the combination of atonal and tonal planes, often with a programme to explain the unusual musical procedures. For example, Scherzo: All the Way Around and Back gradually builds up six distinct layers, subdividing each bar into 1, 2, 3, 5, 7, and 11 equal divisions respectively, over which a bugle plays fanfares in common time (ex.2); the piece is palindromic, swelling to a climax and returning in an exact retrograde, a musical analogue to ‘a foul ball [in baseball] – and the base runner on 3rd has to go all the way back to 1st’.

Ives now sought increasingly to integrate vernacular and church style into his concert music. In his Second Symphony, the major work of this period, he introduced for the first time both hymn tunes and American popular songs into a piece in the classical tradition. The framework is still European, a cyclic five-movement symphony in late Romantic style with direct borrowings from Bach, Brahms, Wagner, Dvořák and Tchaikovsky; the final two movements are modelled on the finale of Brahms’s First Symphony. But the themes are all paraphrased from American melodies, including hymns, fiddle tunes and Stephen Foster songs, reshaped to suit sonata and ternary forms. Like many symphonies which employ national material, the work celebrates the nation’s music while conforming to an international style. In other pieces, such as the improvisations and sketches that became the Ragtime Dances, Ives began to evolve a more modern and individual idiom that drew on American melodic and rhythmic characteristics, including ragtime, the currently popular style. The many guises the Ragtime Dances would eventually assume – from a set of dances for theatre orchestra to movements in his Piano Sonata no.1, Set for Theatre Orchestra and Orchestral Set no.2, and passages in his second Quarter-Tone Piece for two pianos – illustrate again his penchant for reworking his own music into new forms.

Having abandoned music as a career, Ives cast his lot with insurance. However, in 1905 the New York state legislature launched an investigation of scandals in the insurance business, with Mutual and the Raymond agency as particular targets. Although Ives was not implicated, higher executives were, and the agency was ultimately dissolved. The investigation coincided with two bouts of illness or exhaustion for Ives, in the summer of 1905 and late 1906, possibly the first signs of the diabetes that would later afflict him. While recuperating over Christmas 1906 at Old Point Comfort, Virginia, he finalized plans with Myrick to launch an agency affiliated with Washington Life, which had begun as a Mutual subsidiary; it appears that Mutual’s management helped with the arrangements. The ideals Ives stated and pursued as a businessman were, ironically, those articulated at the hearings by the president of Mutual: that life insurance was not a scheme for profit, but a way for each policyholder to provide for his family while ‘participating in a great movement for the benefit of humanity at large’ through mutual assistance. Ives & Co. opened on 1 January 1907, with Myrick as Ives’s assistant.

The year 1905 also began changes in Ives’s personal life, as he renewed his acquaintance with Harmony Twichell, now a registered nurse. Their courtship was slow, hindered by long absences, infrequent times together, and Ives’s shyness. She wrote poems, some of which he set to music in a tonal, Romantic style meant to please her and her family, and they planned an opera that never materialized. Their friendship grew in intensity until they professed their love for each other on 22 October 1907. They were married on 9 June 1908 by Harmony’s father, the Rev. Joseph Twichell, at his Congregational church in Hartford, and settled in New York.

5. Maturity, 1908–18.

Harmony played a crucial role in Ives’s development. As he noted in his Memos, her unwavering faith in him gave him confidence to be himself, although she did not claim to understand all of his music. Moreover, she helped him to find the purpose and the subject matter for his mature work. She wrote to him in early 1908 stating that

inspiration ought to come fullest at one’s happiest moments – I think it would be so satisfying to crystallize one of those moments at the time in some beautiful expression – but I don’t believe it’s often done – I think inspiration – in art – seems to be almost a consolation in hours of sadness or loneliness & that most happy moments are put into expression after they have been memories & made doubly precious because they are gone.

This upholds the Romantic idea of music as an embodiment of individual emotional experience, but adds two elements that were to become characteristic of Ives’s mature music: capturing specific moments that are individual and irreplaceable, and doing so through memory. Her interest in Ives’s father and family revived his own, and several pieces over the next decade recall the town band (Decoration Day, The Fourth of July, Putnam’s Camp), the American Civil War (The ‘St Gaudens’ in Boston Common), camp meetings (Symphony no.3, Violin Sonata no.4, The Rockstrewn Hills Join in the People’s Outdoor Meeting), and other memories Ives connected to his father. Harmony’s interest in literature rekindled his, which had apparently lain dormant since college, and he produced a series of works on Emerson, Browning, Hawthorne, Thoreau and others. Her sense of idealism about America echoed in him, stimulating a rush of pieces on American subjects. The socially committed Christianity of the Twichells reinforced that of the Ives family, as Ives took up subjects from Matthew Arnold’s West London to the movement to abolish slavery (Study no.9: the Anti-Abolitionist Riots in the 1830s and 40s).

Ives’s successes in insurance must also have bolstered his self-confidence. After Washington Life was sold in 1908, he took Myrick into full partnership in an agency with Mutual, launched on 1 January 1909. Within a few years, they were selling more insurance than any agency in the country, during a time of dramatic expansion in the industry. Their secret lay in recruiting a wide network of agents to sell policies for them and in preparing detailed guidelines for selling insurance, summarizing the best arguments to be made. Ives established the first classes for insurance agents at Mutual and helped to devise and promote ‘estate planning’, a method still used to calculate the amount of life insurance one should carry based on expected income and expenses. His pamphlet The Amount to Carry became a classic of its kind. He composed in the evenings, at weekends and on vacations, finding particular inspiration at a weekend cabin on Pine Mountain in Connecticut and during family vacations in the Adirondacks.

Ives continued to use American melodies as themes, but turned from the traditional ternary and sonata forms of the First Quartet and Second Symphony to a new pattern that may be called cumulative form. In the outer movements of the Symphony no.3, most movements of the four violin sonatas and the Piano Sonata no.1, and several other works from c1908–17, the borrowed hymn tune used as a theme appears complete only near the end, usually accompanied by a countermelody (often paraphrased from another hymn). This is preceded by development of both melodies, including a statement of the countermelody alone. The harmony may be dissonant, and the key is often ambiguous until the theme appears, but the music remains essentially tonal. Cumulative form drew on traditional sources, including thematic development and recapitulation; the 19th-century conventions of a large work culminating with a hymn-like theme and of combining themes in counterpoint; and the church organist practice of preceding a hymn with an improvised prelude on motives from the hymn. Indeed, Ives commented that many of these movements developed from organ preludes he had played or improvised in church, all now lost. However, Ives’s synthesis was new. The avoidance of large-scale repetitions, inherent in older forms, allowed him to use hymns essentially unaltered as themes, for the rhythmic and melodic plainness and lack of harmonic contrast that made them unsuitable for the opening theme of a sonata form were perfect for the end of a movement. The process of developing motives and gradually bringing them together in a hymn paralleled, on a purely musical level, the experience Ives remembered of hymn-singing at the camp-meetings of his youth, as individuals joined in a common expression of feeling.

In other works, Ives sought to capture American life, especially American experiences with music, in a more directly programmatic way. The Housatonic at Stockbridge (ex.3) evokes a walk by the river Ives and his wife shared soon after their marriage. The main melody (given to second violas, horn and English horn), harmonized with simple tonal triads (in the lower strings and brass, notated enharmonically), suggests a hymn wafting from the church across the river, while repeating figures in distant tonal and rhythmic regions (upper strings), subtly changing over time, convey a sense of the mists and rippling water. Like this work, most of Ives’s music about life experiences is composed in layers, distinguished by timbre, register, rhythm, pitch content and dynamic level, to create a sense of three-dimensional space and multiple planes of activity; here the earlier experiments in layering bear rich fruit. Central Park in the Dark pictures the noises and music of the city against the background sounds of nature, rendered as a soft series of atonal chords in parallel motion. In From Hanover Square North, background ostinatos represent city noises in New York, over which commuters on a train platform gradually come together to sing a hymn for those lost in the sinking of the Lusitania that morning. When suggesting a memory of his youth, as in Putnam’s Camp, The Fourth of July and Washington’s Birthday, Ives often infused the background with a collage of tunes related by motif or genre to his main theme, evoking the way one memory will summon up others in a stream of consciousness. Songs such as The Last Reader and The Things Our Fathers Loved suggest a similar fount of memory through a patchwork of fragments from songs of the past.

These programmatic pieces and songs mix tonality with atonality, traditional with experimental procedures, direct quotation with paraphrases and original melodies. Having developed an impressive range of tools, Ives used them all in his mature works, choosing whatever was appropriate to fit the image, event or feeling he was attempting to convey. Ives wrote in 1925, ‘why tonality as such should be thrown out for good, I can’t see. Why it should be always present, I can’t see. It depends, it seems to me, a good deal – as clothes depend on the thermometer – on what one is trying to do’. Ives’s willingness to break rules, even his own, for expressive ends places him with the likes of Monteverdi, Mahler, Beethoven, Strauss and Berg as an essentially dramatic and rhetorical composer. Like them he often coordinated diverse styles within a single movement, using the contrasts to delineate sections and create form as well as for emotional effect. Though this eclecticism has been criticized by those who value systems, refinement, and homogeneity more than rhetorical power, many others have found the mix of elements in Ives’s music an apt expression of the heterogeneity of modern, especially American, life.

In 1912 Ives and his wife bought farmland in West Redding, near Danbury, and built a house, soon settling into a pattern of spending May to November in West Redding and the rest of the year in New York. Unable to have children after Harmony miscarried in April 1909 and underwent an emergency hysterectomy, they found a partial outlet for their parental energies in Moss’s six children, often hosting one or two of them for extended periods. They opened a cottage on their property to poor families from the city through the Fresh Air Fund; the second family to visit had a sickly infant daughter, whom they cared for and eventually adopted as Edith Osborne Ives (1914–56).

From time to time Ives sought out performances or at least readings of his music, and this encouraged him to have clean scores and parts copied by a series of professional copyists. Walter Damrosch conducted an informal reading of movements from the First Symphony in March 1910; attempts to interest him in the Second and Third had no result. Periodically, Ives invited professional musicians to his home to try out some of his music; the reactions he recorded in his Memos ranged from incomprehension to apoplectic criticism of its dissonance and complexity. The USA’s entrance into World War I in April 1917 inspired him to write the song In Flanders Fields to a text by a Mutual medical examiner, and Myrick arranged for a performance at a meeting of insurance executives. Later the same month David Talmadge (violin teacher to Ives’s nephew Moss White Ives) and Stuart Ross performed the Third Violin Sonata for an invited audience at Carnegie Chamber Music Hall.

6. Last works, 1918–1927.

The war pulled Ives away from composition into work for the Red Cross and Liberty Loan appeals. He even tried to enlist as an ambulance driver in 1918 but he was turned down for health reasons. At a meeting on 1 October 1918, he argued for Liberty bonds in small denominations to allow the public at large to participate; he won his point, but the same night suffered a heart attack, which kept him from work for a year.

Mindful of his mortality, Ives set about finishing and making available the music he had been composing. Two months in early 1919 were spent at Asheville, North Carolina, where he worked on his second piano sonata, subtitled Concord, Mass., 1840–60, with musical impressions of Emerson, Hawthorne, the Alcotts, and Thoreau, and an accompanying book of Essays before a Sonata, his most detailed statement of his aesthetics. The importance of transcendentalism in the sonata and essays has obscured other influences, including that of Beethoven, Debussy, Liszt and perhaps Skryabin on the sonata (and on much of Ives’s other music) and that of Romantic aesthetics and liberal Christianity on his philosophy. The famous distinction Ives makes in the essays between ‘substance’ (more-or-less, the spiritual content of a work) and ‘manner’ (the means of its expression) derives largely from a 1912 essay on Debussy by Ives’s friend John C. Griggs. The sonata and the essays were privately printed in 1920–21 and sent free to musicians and critics whom he hoped to interest in his music. Most reviews were mocking, but a perceptive notice by Henry Bellamann praised the sonata’s ‘loftiness of purpose’ and its ‘elevating and greatly beautiful’ moments. Bellamann became Ives’s first advocate, lecturing and writing on his music, and Ives later set two of Bellamann’s poems.

Between 1919 and 1921 Ives gathered most of his songs, including 20 new ones, 20 adapted to new texts, and 36 newly arranged from works for chorus or instruments, into a book of 114 Songs, privately printed in 1922. Many of the songs use words by Ives or by Harmony, while others set a wide range of texts, from the great English and American poets Ives studied with Phelps at Yale to hymns and poems he found in newspapers, or other such sources. The volume encompasses the diversity of Ives’s output, from the vast clusters that open Majority and the quartal chords and whole-tone melody of The Cage to his German lieder and parlour songs from the 1890s. The late songs include a new style for Ives: more restrained, simpler, and with less overt quotation, although still often dissonant and full of contrasts used to delineate phrases and highlight the text. This is illustrated in the song Resolution (ex.4), which features four distinctive figurations in its brief eight measures, each using a different collection of pitches and each subtly linked to images in the text: in a, a pentatonic melody with dotted rhythms recalls American folksong style, associated with rugged strength and the outdoors, while the wide spacing in voice and piano evokes the spaciousness of ‘distant skies’; in b, tonal harmonies and secondary dominants suggest hymnody, representing faith; c mimics the style Ives associated with sentimental parlour songs, with an undulating melody in dotted rhythm over harmonies tinged with chromaticism, while the reiterated chords and emphasis on G create a sense of marking place; d is again diatonic, suggesting Romantic song through a leap and descent; and a returns at the close, as ‘journey’ harks back to ‘walking’.

Once again Ives distributed his publication to musicians and critics, hoping to attract some interest, with little initial success; Sousa found some songs ‘most startling to a man educated by the harmonic methods of our forefathers’, and the Musical Courier called Ives ‘the American Satie, joker par excellence’. Nevertheless, several of the songs were given their premières in recitals in Danbury, New York and New Orleans, between 1922 and 1924. Ives also completed or revised many other works between 1919 and the early 1920s, including the First Piano Sonata, the second violin sonata, and most movements of A Symphony: New England Holidays, Orchestral Set no.1: Three Places in New England, Orchestral Set no.2 and the Symphony no.4 (fig.2). Many of these multi-movement cycles brought together movements first conceived separately, sometimes at different times. The Second Violin Sonata was first performed in 1924 to respectful reviews, but the others had to wait.

In 1923 Ives met E. Robert Schmitz, pianist and head of the Franco-American Musical Society, later renamed Pro-Musica. Schmitz arranged performances of the Three Quarter-Tone Pieces for two pianos in 1925 and of the first two movements of the Fourth Symphony in 1927. The symphony was a summation of all Ives had done, drawing on more than a dozen earlier works and encompassing the range of his techniques from pure tonality to the most rhythmically complex textures any conductor had ever seen. It traces a mystical inner journey: the brief opening movement poses ‘the searching questions of What? and Why? which the spirit of man asks of life’ (in the words of Bellamann’s programme note) by means of a choral setting of the hymn tune ‘Watchman, Tell Us of the Night’; the second movement is a dream-like collage based on Hawthorne’s tale The Celestial Railroad, a satire of the search for an easy way to heaven; the third movement, based on the first movement of the First Quartet, depicts religious ‘formalism and ritualism’ through a tonal fugue on hymn tunes; and after these two false answers to the questioning prelude the finale suggests the truer path through a meditation on Bethany (‘Nearer, My God, to Thee’) in cumulative form. Despite the work’s novelty and complexity, it won encouraging reviews from Olin Downes of the New York Times and Lawrence Gilman of the Herald Tribune, two of the leading critics of the day.

Ives stopped composing by early 1927; as Harmony later told John Kirkpatrick, ‘he came downstairs one day with tears in his eyes and said he couldn’t seem to compose any more – nothing went well – nothing sounded right’. Theories abound for his cessation, from the psychological effects of his double life in business and music to the physical illnesses he continued to endure. He may have exhausted himself from the push to complete the Fourth Symphony and other major works. He had started no new large compositions since an attempt at a third orchestral set in 1919, which remained unfinished. The early 1920s had produced a few songs and his choral masterpiece Psalm 90, essentially rewritten from scratch around 1923. Around the same time he returned to his ambitious Universe Symphony (begun c1915), the capstone of his exploration of systematic methods of composition, which features over 20 wholly independent musical strands, each moving in its own subdivision of a metric unit eight seconds in length. This too would remain unfinished, finally appearing in three separate realizations in the 1990s. His last new work was the song Sunrise in August 1926. He had still received very few performances, and no professional publications since the 1890s. Ives may have followed the same steps as most composers – first conceiving a piece, then drafting, revising, completing and copying it, and seeing it through to performance and publication – but instead of doing this for each piece in a short span of time, he did it for dozens of pieces at once, stretched over decades.

7. Revisions and premières, 1927–54.

After years of health problems, eventually diagnosed as diabetes, Ives retired from business on 1 January 1930. His music was written, but its public career was just beginning. After Bellamann and Schmitz, Ives found an ever-increasing series of advocates who promoted and performed his music. Most important was Cowell, whose quarterly New Music printed several Ives works, starting with the second movement of the Fourth Symphony in 1929, and who wrote a series of appreciations of Ives’s music emphasizing its pioneering use of innovative techniques. Cowell’s New Music Society sponsored the première of the First Violin Sonata in San Francisco in 1928. Also at Cowell’s urging, Nicolas Slonimsky approached Ives for a piece for his Boston Chamber Orchestra, and Ives responded by rescoring Three Places in New England, which Slonimsky performed in New York, Boston, Havana and Paris in 1931 to generally favourable reviews. In September, Slonimsky conducted the première of Washington’s Birthday at a New Music Society concert in San Francisco, and the following year he conducted The Fourth of July in Paris, Berlin and Budapest. In May 1932 Hubert Linscott and Aaron Copland presented seven of Ives’s songs at the first Yaddo Festival of Contemporary American Music, and Ives began to be seen as a forerunner of the current generation of American modernists. These seven songs, The Fourth of July, and the Set for Theatre Orchestra were published in 1932, followed by more songs in 1933 and 1935, Three Places in New England in 1935, Washington’s Birthday in 1936 and Psalm 67 in 1939. Numerous songs were given premières in recitals during the 1930s in New York, San Francisco, Boston, Dresden, Vienna, Paris (with Messiaen at the piano) and elsewhere. The January 1939 New York première of the Concord Sonata by John Kirkpatrick (who had played the world première the previous November in Cos Cob, Connecticut) drew high praise from Gilman in the Herald Tribune, who called it ‘exceptionally great music … the greatest music composed by an American, and the most deeply and essentially American in impulse and implication’. More premières followed, including the Fourth Violin Sonata in 1940, the Symphony no.3 and the String Quartet no.2 in 1946, and the Piano Sonata no.1 in 1949, each more than a quarter of a century after its completion. Ives was elected to the National Institute of Arts and Letters in 1945, and the Symphony no.3 won the Pulitzer Prize in 1947. Bernstein conducted the New York PO in the première of the Symphony no.2 in 1951, over 40 years after its completion, and the Symphony no.1 was finally performed for the first time in 1953, half a century after it was finished.

Throughout this time, Ives continued to work on his music, copying the full score for Thanksgiving during a year in Europe with Harmony in 1932–3, recording his own piano performances and improvisations in London and New York, adding a new ending to the Second Symphony, and pulling old pieces out of his piles of manuscripts. He had photocopies made of his manuscripts and sent them to those who expressed interest in a work. In the early 1930s he dictated reminiscences about his life and his music, intended only to provide information for those writing about him, but published four decades later as Memos. Although in Essays before a Sonata he had seemed a follower of Beethoven, in Memos he emphasized his experimental works and his invention of novel techniques, presenting himself as the pioneer Cowell and others seemed to want him to be, and credited so much influence to his father that he obscured for decades his deep debts to Parker, to the 19th-century Romantic tradition, and to older contemporaries such as Debussy. He worked for years on a revised edition of the Concord Sonata, finally published in 1947. His health gradually weakened, and in May 1954 he died of a stroke while recovering from an operation.

Music continued to appear after his death, and his reputation continued to grow. Harmony Ives gave his manuscripts to the Library of the Yale School of Music in 1955, and John Kirkpatrick published a meticulous catalogue in 1960. The first biography, by Henry and Sidney Cowell in 1955, was followed by a steady stream of theses and articles. The Fourth Symphony was finally played in its entirety in 1965. Memos and other writings appeared in 1972. The Charles Ives Society, which became active in 1973, has sponsored a series of critical editions of individual works with Kirkpatrick and James B. Sinclair the most prominent editors. The 1974 centennial brought the first festivals devoted to Ives’s music, and there have been several since. Extensive interviews with those who knew Ives were published in an abridged form (Perlis, C1974), an extremely valuable resource. A second biography appeared during the centennial (Wooldridge, C1974), and a third (Rossiter, C1975) began a current of reconsidering the legends that had grown up around the composer. The first survey of his music (Hitchcock, D1977) provided a succinct overview of his entire output. Since the mid-1980s, studies have appeared that clarify our picture of Ives’s life, family, career, and psychology (Burkholder, C1985; Moore, C1985; Feder, C1992; Swafford, C1996); demonstrate his strong links to European composers (Gibbens, C1985; Hertz, D1993; Block and Burkholder, B1996); reveal his use of interval cycles, pitch class sets, and other organizing principles (Winters, D1986; Baron, D1987; Lambert, D1987 and D1997; Roller, E1995); trace the American experimental tradition that began with Ives (Nicholls, D1990); treat major works in depth (Meyer, E1991; Rathert, D1991; Block, E1996); describe Ives’s use of stylistic heterogeneity as a formal device (Starr, D1992); and examine his methods of musical borrowing (Burkholder, D1995). He is now regarded more highly for the beauty and power of his music than for his pioneering innovations, which is as it should be, and the meaning and structure of his music are more deeply and widely understood than ever before. His appeal to audiences worldwide continues to broaden, and his place among the leading composers of his time is secure.

See Borrowing, §12

WORKS

A chronological listing of Ives’s works is neither possible nor appropriate as dates for many works are uncertain, and Ives tended to work on a number of pieces simultaneously, often taking years from first sketch to final revision.

This work-list follows the ordering, numbering and title style in James B. Sinclair, A Descriptive Catalogue of the Music of Charles Ives (New Haven, 1999), grouping works by genre and numerically or alphabetically within each genre. Most incomplete works, exercises, arrangements of works by others, unidentified fragments, and lost or projected works are omitted. Dates are of manuscripts when extant; these are based on Gayle Sherwood’s datings of the manuscripts by paper type and handwriting, and they may not reflect the entire period of composition if the earliest sketches or final revisions do not survive. Dates in square brackets are from Ives’s own hand but represent pieces or stages of composition for which no manuscripts are extant. Printed works are published in New York unless otherwise stated (reprints are not listed). For full details of publication and first performances, see Sinclair.

MSS in US-NH, photocopies in US-NYp, Wcg

corr. edn	corrected edition
crit. edn	critical edition sponsored by The Charles Ives Society
real.	realized by
rej.	rejected
>	derived from
<	developed into

Principal publishers: Arrow, Associated, Mercury, Merion, New Music, Peer, Peters, Presser, G. Schirmer

orchestral

symphonies



No.	Title and instrumentation	Dates

1	Symphony no.1	c1898–c1901, c1907–8
First known performance : Washington, DC, 26 April 1953
Remarks and publication : ed. R. Cordero (1971); crit. edn J. Sinclair (1999)
	i. Allegro	c1898–c1901, c1908
Remarks and publication : first theme <339)
	rej. ii. Largo	c1898–9
Remarks and publication : inc.;
	ii. Adagio molto	c1898–9, c1907–8
	iii. Scherzo: Vivace	c1898–9, c1907–8
	iv. Allegro molto	[1898], c1907–8
Remarks and publication : part of coda
2	Symphony no.2	[1899–1902], c1907–9
First known performance : New York, 22 Feb 1951
Remarks and publication : ed. H. Cowell and L. Harrison (1951); corr. edns (1988, 1991)
	i. Andante moderato	c1907–8
Remarks and publication : ?>lost org sonata, lost ov.
	ii. Allegro	c1908–9
Remarks and publication : ?>lost ovs.
	iii. Adagio cantabile	c1908–9
Remarks and publication : >1/rej. ii; portion
	iv. Lento (maestoso)	c1908
Remarks and publication : ?>lost ov. or lost org sonata
	v. Allegro molto vivace	c1907–9, new ending c1950
Remarks and publication : ?>lost ov./ovs.; portions
3	Symphony no.3: The Camp Meeting, small orch	[1904], c1908–11
First known performance : New York, 5 April 1946
Remarks and publication : ed. L. Harrison (1947); rev. and corr. edn H. Cowell (1964); crit. edn K. Singleton (1990)
	i. Old Folks Gatherin’	c1909–10
Remarks and publication : >lost org prelude
	ii. Children’s Day	c1908–10
Remarks and publication : >lost org postlude
	iii. Communion	c1909–11
Remarks and publication : >lost org communion piece; <222
	rej. iv. Allegro	c1910
Remarks and publication : inc.;
4	Symphony no.4, pf, orch, opt. SATBB	c1912–18, c1921–5
First known performance : New York, 26 April 1965 [complete work]
Remarks and publication : (1965)
	i. Prelude	c1916–17, c1923–4
First known performance : New York, 29 Jan 1927
Remarks and publication : portion >386 or part of 60/iii
	ii. Allegretto	c1916–18, c1923–5
First known performance : New York, 29 Jan 1927
Remarks and publication : >116 (itself >88/ii, which borrows from 36); ?>lost Hawthorne Concerto; (San Francisco, 1929)
	iii. Fugue	c1912–13, c1923–4
First known performance : New York, 10 May 1933
Remarks and publication : >57/i
	iv. Largo	c1915–16, c1921–4
Remarks and publication : ?>lost slow march; ending >ending of 58/iii
5	A Symphony: New England Holidays	assembled ?c1917–19
First known performance : Minneapolis, 9 April 1954 [complete work]
	i. Washington’s Birthday, small orch	[1909–13], c1915–17
First known performance : San Francisco, 3 Sept 1931
Remarks and publication : (San Francisco, 1936); crit. edn J. Sinclair (1991)
	ii. Decoration Day	[1912–13], c1915–20, rev. c1923–4
First known performance : Havana, 27 Dec 1931
Remarks and publication : early version
	iii. The Fourth of July	[1912], c1914–18, rev. c1930–31
First known performance : Paris, 21 Feb 1932
Remarks and publication : portions > or trio of 24; (San Francisco and Berlin, 1932); crit. edn W. Shirley (1992)
	iv. Thanksgiving and Forefathers’ Day, orch, opt. SSATTB	c1911–16, rev. 1933
Remarks and publication : ?>lost 1904 version; >lost 1897 org prelude and postlude; crit. edn J. Elkus (1991)
6	Universe Symphony	1915–28
First known performance : Greeley, CO, 29 Oct 1993 [i and iv, ed. D. Porter]; Cincinnati, 28 Jan 1994 [real. L. Austin]; New York, 6 June 1996 [real. J. Reinhard]
Remarks and publication : portions >part of 49/1; chord structures used in 319
	i. Prelude no.1	c1923
	ii. Prelude no.2	c1923
Remarks and publication : inc.
	iii. Prelude no.3, lost
	iv. Section A	1915–28
	v. Section B	1923–8
Remarks and publication : inc.
	vi. Section C	1923–8
Remarks and publication : inc.

orchestral sets

7	Orchestral Set no.1: Three Places in New England	c1912–17, c1919–21	New York, 10 Jan 1931 [small orch version]	version for small orch 1929, rev. 1933–5, ed. N. Slonimsky (Boston, 1935); crit. edn J. Sinclair, with full orch (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1976)

	i. The ‘St Gaudens’ in Boston Common (Col. Shaw and his Colored Regiment)	c1916–17		>version for piano (Black March)
	ii. Putnam’s Camp, Redding, Connecticut	c1914–15, c1919–20		>36 and 24
	iii. The Housatonic at Stockbridge	[1908], c1912–17, rev. c1921		>early song version; <266

8	Orchestral Set no.2	assembled c1919	Chicago, 11 Feb 1967	crit. edn J. Sinclair (2000)
	i. An Elegy to Our Forefathers	c1915–19, c1924–5
	ii. The Rockstrewn Hills Join in the People’s Outdoor Meeting	c1915–16, c1920–22		>43/iii, borrows from 43/i and ii
	iii. From Hanover Square North, at the End of a Tragic Day, the Voice of the People Again Arose, orch, opt. unison vv	1915–c1916, c1918–19, c1926, c1929
9	Orchestral Set no.3	assembled c1921		transcr. of MSS in Porter, 1980
	i.	c1921–2, c1925–6	Fullerton, CA, 16 March 1978 [real. D. Porter]	>3/rej. iv
	ii. An Afternoon/During Camp Meetin’ Week – One Secular Afternoon (In Bethel)	c1912–14, c1921–2		inc.; partly >24; portion >part of 51; borrows from 104
	iii.	c1921		inc.; borrows from 27

sets for chamber orchestra

10	Set no.1	assembled c1915–16
	i. Scherzo: The See’r	[1913], c1915–16		=18/ii;
	ii. A Lecture	[1909], c1915–16		<377
	iii. The Ruined River	[1912], c1915–16		>or
	iv. Like a Sick Eagle	[1909], c1915–16		=19/i; <288
	v. Calcium Light Night	[1907], c1915–16	New Haven, 22 Feb 1956 [ed. and arr. H. Cowell]	portion borrowed from 70, reused in 117/i
	vi. Allegretto sombreoso	c1915–16	New York, 10 May 1951
11	Set no.2	assembled c1916–17	New Haven, 3 March 1974 [ed. K. Singleton]
	i. Largo: The Indians	[1912], c1916–17
	ii. ‘Gyp the Blood’ or Hearst!? Which is Worst?!	?1912, c1916–17		?inc.; crit. edn real. K. Singleton (1978)
	iii. Andante: The Last Reader	[1911], c1916–17
12	Set no.3	assembled c1919	New York, 6 Dec 1962 [arr. G. Schuller]
	i. Adagio sostenuto: At Sea	c1918–19
	ii. Luck and Work	c1919	New York, 10 May 1951	< or>293;
	iii. Premonitions	c1918–19		<328
13	Set no.4: Three Poets and Human Nature	?c1925–30		not fully orchestrated
	i. Robert Browning			>324; arr. D. Porter
	ii. Walt Whitman			>384; arr. G. Smith
	iii. Matthew Arnold		New Haven, 20 Oct 1974 [real. J. Kirkpatrick]	>388
14	Set no.5: The Other Side of Pioneering, or Side Lights on American Enterprise	?after c1925		<17
	i. The New River			=17/i; >308 (itself > or
	ii. The Indians			=17/ii; >283 (itself >11/i)
	iii. Charlie Rutlage		New Haven, 3 Mar 1974	>226; crit. edn K. Singleton (1983)
	iv. Ann Street			=17/iii; >211; not fully orchd
15	Set no.6: From the Side Hill	?c1925–30
	i. Mists		New Haven, 3 Mar 1974	>301 version 2; crit. edn real. K. Singleton (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1976)
	ii. The Rainbow			>330 (itself >45)
	iii. Afterglow			>207
	iv. Evening		New Haven, 3 Mar 1974	>244; crit. edn real. K. Singleton (1983)
16	Set no.7: Water Colors	?c1925–30
	i. At Sea			>213, ?>12/i; not fully orchd
	ii. Swimmers		New Haven, 3 Mar 1974 [real. J. Sinclair]	>366
	iii. The Pond		New Haven, 3 Mar 1974	>332; crit. edn real. K. Singleton (1977)
	iv. Full Fathom Five			>324; orchestration lost
17	Set no.8: Songs without Voices	?c1930	New York, 21 Apr 1930 [in a version for tpt, pf]	>14
	i. The New River			=14/i
	ii. The Indians			=14/ii
	iii. Ann Street			=14/iv
18	Set no.9 of Three Pieces	assembled ?1934
	i. Andante con moto: The Last Reader			>11/iii (itself <286)
	ii. Scherzo: The See’r			=10/i
	iii. Largo to Presto: The Unanswered Question			=50 rev. version
19	Set no.10 of Three Pieces	assembled ?1934
	i. Largo molto: Like a Sick Eagle			=10/iv (itself <288)
	ii. Allegro-Andante: Luck and Work			>12/ii (itself >293)
	iii. Adagio: The Indians			>11/i (itself
20	Set for Theatre Orchestra	assembled c1915	New York, 16 Feb 1932 [complete work]	(San Francisco, 1932)
	i. In the Cage	[1906], c1907–8, rev. c1911–12		221
	ii. In the Inn	[1904–11], c1915–16, rev. c1929–30		>43/i and 87/iib; portions reworked in 128/ii
	iii. In the Night	[1906], c1915–16, rev. c1929–30	St. Paul, MN, 7 Dec 1931	>80 and lost choral hymn-anthem

overtures

22	Emerson Overture for Piano and Orchestra	c1910–14, rev. c1920–21	Cleveland, 1 Oct 1998 [real. D. Porter]	inc.; portions >90, 91, 97; portion < or >99; portion
24	Overture and March ‘1776’, small orch	[1903–4]; c1909–10	New Haven, 3 March 1974	outer sections
25	Overture in G Minor	c1899		inc.
27	Robert Browning Overture	c1912–14, rev. c1936–42	New York, 14 Oct 1956	portions

marches

28	Holiday Quickstep, pic, 2 cornets, pf, 2 vn	1887	Danbury, 16 Jan 1888	> or
29	March no.2, with ‘Son of a Gambolier’, small orch	1892, c1895	New Haven, 3 March 1974	110; crit. edn K. Singleton (1977)
31	March no.3, with ‘My Old Kentucky Home’, small orch	c1895	New Haven, 19 Oct 1973	portion
33	March: The Circus Band, chbr orch, opt. SSATTBB	c1898–9, arr. c1932–3		early version >115; final version >229 (itself >115); arr. G. Roberts (1969)

other orchestral

	Adagio sostenuto: see 12/i
	Allegretto sombreoso: see 10/vi
	Ann Street: see 14/iv
	Calcium Light Night: see 10/v
34	Central Park in the Dark, small orch	[1906], c1909, rev. c1936	New York, 11 May 1946	crit. edn J.-L. Monod and J. Kirkpatrick (Hillsdale, NY, 1973)
	Charlie Rutlage: see 14/iii
35	Chromâtimelôdtune, small orch	c1923	New York, 6 Dec 1962 [real. G. Schuller]; New Haven, 3 March 1974 [real. K. Singleton]	real. and arr. G. Schuller (1963)
36	‘Country Band’ March, small orch	[1905], c1910–11, c1914	New Haven, 3 March 1974	inc.; borrows from 43/i;
	Decoration Day: see 5/ii
	Evening: see 15/iv
	The Fourth of July: see 5/iii
37	The General Slocum	[1904], c1909–10	New York, 29 Nov 1970 [real. G. Schuller]	inc.
38	The Gong on the Hook and Ladder/Firemen’s Parade on Main Street, small orch	arr. c1934	New York, 22 April 1934	>70; (San Francisco, 1953); (1960); corr. edn J. Sinclair (1979)
	‘Gyp the Blood’ or Hearst?! Which is Worst?!: see 11/ii
	Holidays Symphony: see 5
	Mists: see 15/i
40	The Pond, small orch	[1906], c1912–13	New York, 22 April 1934
41	Postlude in F	c1898–9	New Haven, 6 June 1971	>lost org postlude; crit. edn K. Singleton (1991)
43	Four Ragtime Dances, small orch	[1902–11], c1915–16, c1920–21		crit. edn J. Sinclair (1990)
	i. no.1		New Haven, 22 April 1976	partly >46; < 87/iib, 20/ii; portions reworked in 8/ii, 36, 128/ii
	ii. no.2		New Haven, 21 Oct 1974	partly >46;
	iii. no.3		New Haven, 25 Feb 1976
	iv. no.4		New Haven, 21 Oct 1974
45	The Rainbow, small orch	1914	Danbury, 11 April 1969
46	Skit for Danbury Fair	[1902], c1909	West Redding, CT, 17 Aug 1974 [real. K. Singleton]	inc.; portions <87iia)
47	Take-Off no.7: Mike Donlin – Johnny Evers	1907	West Redding, CT, 17 Aug 1974 [real. K. Singleton]	inc.
48	Take-Off no.8: Willy Keeler at Bat	c1907	West Redding, CT, 17 Aug 1974 [real. K. Singleton]	inc.
	Thanksgiving and Forefathers’ Day: see 5/iv
	Three Places in New England: see 7
49	Tone Roads et al.
	i. Tone Roads no.1	c1913–14	San Francisco, 10 Aug 1950	portion
	ii. Tone Roads no.2			lost
	iii. Tone Roads no.3	c1911, c1913–14	New York, 20 Dec 1963	(1952)
50	The Unanswered Question, 4 fl/(2 fl, ob, cl), tpt/(ob/eng hn/cl), str orch/str qt	1908, rev. c1930–35	New York, 11 May 1946 [rev. version]; New York, 17 March 1984 [first version]	rev. version=18/iii; (Montevideo, 1941); (1953); both versions, crit. edn P. Echols and N. Zahler (1985)
	Washington’s Birthday: see 5/i
51	Yale-Princeton Football Game	[1899], c1910–11	New York, 29 Nov 1970 [real. G. Schuller]; New Haven, 2 Oct 1976 [real. J. Sinclair]	?inc.; portion

band

52	Fantasia on ‘Jerusalem the Golden’	[1888]	West Caldwell, NJ, 5 Feb 1972 [arr. K. Brion]	only short score extant; arr. K. Brion (1974)
53	March in F and C, with ‘Omega Lambda Chi’	1895–6		>111; ed. and arr. K. Brion (1974)
54	March ‘Intercollegiate’, with ‘Annie Lisle’	c1895	Washington, DC, 4 March 1897	>112; (Philadelphia, 1896); ed. and arr. K. Brion (Hackensack, NJ, 1973)
55	Runaway Horse on Main Street	c1907–8	New Haven, 18 Nov 1977 [real. J. Sinclair]	inc.; partly

chamber ensemble

string quartets

57	String Quartet no.1: From the Salvation Army	c1897–c1900, c1909	New York, 17 March 1943 [movts ii–iv only]; New York, 24 April 1957 [complete work]	(1961 and 1963)
	i. Chorale	c1897–8
	ii. Prelude	c1900, c1909		?
	iii. Offertory	c1897–8, c1909		>lost org prelude
	iv. Postlude	c1900, c1909		>lost org postlude
58	String Quartet no.2	c1913–15	New York, 11 May 1946	(1954); corr. edn J. Kirkpatrick (1970)
	i. Discussions	[1911], c1913–14
	ii. Arguments	[1907], c1913–14
	iii. The Call of the Mountains	[1911–13], c1914–15		ending

sonatas for violin and piano

59	Pre-First Sonata for Violin and Piano	[1901–3], c1908–13		inc.; mostly <61
	i. Allegretto moderato	[1902–3], c1909–10, rev. c1911–12		>lost org postlude; portion
	rej. ii. Largo	[1901], c1909–10
	ii. Largo	[1902, 1908], c1911–12
	rej. iii. Scherzo	c1908–9		inc.;
	iii. Largo–Allegro	[1908–10], c1911–13		inc.;
60	Sonata no.1 for Violin and Piano	assembled c1914 or c1917	San Francisco, 27 Nov 1928	(1953)
	i. Andante–Allegro vivace	[1906], c1910–12, c1914, rev. c1917
	ii. Largo cantabile	c1914, rev. c1917		>59/ii
	iii. Allegro	[1909], c1911–12, rev. c1917–18, c1924–5		portion >lost song ‘Watchman’;
61	Sonata no.2 for Violin and Piano	assembled c1914–17	New York, 18 March 1924	mostly >59; ed. J. Kirkpatrick (1951)
	i. Autumn	c1914, rev. c1920–21		>59/iii; ending <265
	ii. In the Barn	c1914, rev. c1920–21		>59/rej. iii, part of 59/i
	iii. The Revival	c1915–17, rev. c1920–21		>63/rej. iv
62	Sonata no.3 for Violin and Piano	1914	New York, 22 April 1917	ed. S. Babitz and I. Dahl (1951)
	i. Adagio			>lost org prelude
	ii. Allegro			>lost org toccata, lost ragtime piece
	iii. Adagio cantabile			>lost org prelude
63	Sonata no.4 for Violin and Piano: Children’s Day at the Camp Meeting	assembled c1914–16	New York, 14 Jan 1940	(1942)
	i. Allegro	c1911–12		>lost sonata for tpt and org
	ii. Largo–Allegro (conslugarocko)–Andante con spirito–Adagio cantabile–Largo cantabile	c1914–15
	iii. Allegro	c1916		>lost piece for cornet and str; portion <214
	rej. iv. Adagio–Faster	[1906, 1909–10], c1915–17

other chamber

	Adagio cantabile: The Innate: see 84/iii
64	Decoration Day for Violin and Piano	arr. c1919	New Haven, 19 Oct 1973	>early version of 5/ii
65	From the Steeples and the Mountains, tpt, trbn, 4 sets of bells	[1901], c1905–6	Waltham, MA, 26 April 1963	(1965)
69	Fugue in Four Keys on ‘The Shining Shore’, fl, cornet, str	c1903	New Haven, 3 March 1974	crit. edn real. J. Kirkpatrick (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1975)
70	The Gong on the Hook and Ladder/Firemen’s Parade on Main Street, str qt/str qnt, pf	c1912
71	Hallowe’en, str qt, pf, opt. b drum/timp/any drum	[1911], c1914	New York, 22 April 1934	(1949)
72	In Re Con Moto et al., str qt, pf	[1913], c1915–16, rev. c1923–4	New York, 11 Feb 1970	(1968)
	Largo for Violin and Piano: see 59/rej. ii
73	Largo for Violin, Clarinet and Piano	arr. ?1934	New York, 10 May 1951	>59/rej. ii; (1953)
	Largo cantabile: Hymn: see 84/i
74	Largo risoluto no.1, str qt, pf	c1908–9	Washington, DC, 4 May 1958	portions < or >parts of 24, 82; (1961)
75	Largo risoluto no.2, str qt, pf	c1909–10	Washington, DC, 4 May 1958	(1961)
76	An Old Song Deranged, cl/eng hn/1v, hp/gui, vn/va, va, 2 vc	arr. c1903	New Haven, 3 March 1974	>361
78	Polonaise, 2 ?cornets, pf	c1887–9		?inc.
79	Practice for String Quartet in Holding Your Own!, str qt	1903
80	Prelude on ‘Eventide’, Bar/trbn, 2 vn/echo org, org	[by 1902], c1907–8	New Haven, 21 Oct 1974
81	Scherzo: All the Way Around and Back, cl/fl, bugle/tpt, bells/hn, vn, 2 pf/pf 4 hands	c1907–8		(1971)
82	Scherzo: Over the Pavements, pic, cl, bn/bar sax, tpt, 3 trbn, cymbal, b drum, pf	c1910, rev. c1926–7	New York, 20 Dec 1963	portions >parts of 85 (also used in 87/iva, 107, 321); portions > or
83	Scherzo for String Quartet	1904
84	A Set of Three Short Pieces	assembled ?c1935	Syracuse, NY, 8 Feb 1965
	i. Largo cantabile: Hymn, (str qt, db)/str orch	[1904], c1907–8
	ii. Scherzo: Holding Your Own!, str qt	assembled c1935		combines 83 and 79; (1958)
	iii. Adagio cantabile: The Innate, str qt, pf, opt. db	c1908–9
85	Take-Off no.3: Rube Trying to Walk 2 to 3!!, cl, bn, tpt, pf	c1909		portions
86	Trio for Violin, Violoncello and Piano	c1909–10, rev. c1914–15	Berea, OH, 24 May 1948	(1955); crit. edn J. Kirkpatrick (1987)
	i. Moderato	c1909–10
	ii. Presto (‘TSIAJ’ or Medley on the Fence or on the Campus!)	c1909–10		‘TSIAJ’ stands for ‘This Scherzo Is A Joke’
	iii. Moderato con moto	c1909–10, rev. c1914–15		portions >209

piano

sonatas

87	Sonata no.1 for Piano	assembled c1915–16, c1921	New York, 17 Feb 1949	ed. L. Harrison and W. Masselos (1954); corr. edn (1979); 2nd corr. edn (1990)
	i. Adagio con moto–Allegro con moto–Allegro risoluto–Adagio cantabile	c1909–10, c1915–16, rev. c1921, c1926–7		>lost organ piece
	iia. Allegro moderato– Andante	c1915–16, c1920–21		>43/ii
	iib. Allegro–Meno mosso con moto (In the Inn)	c1915–16, c1920–22		>43/i;
	iii. Largo–Allegro–Largo	c1915–16, rev. c1921–2
	iva.	c1921		portion >part of 85 or 82 (also used in 107)
	ivb. Allegro– Presto–Slow	c1921	>43/iv; portion reworked in 128/ii
	v. Andante maestoso–Adagio cantabile–Allegro–Andante	c1920–22, rev. c1926–7		portion >part of 122/iv; borrows from 106
88	Sonata no.2 for Piano: Concord, Mass., 1840–60	c1916–19; rev. 1920s–40s	Cos Cob, CT, 28 Nov 1938 [complete work]	(Redding, CT, 1920); edn (1947)
	i. Emerson	c1916–19	Paris, 5 March 1928	>22; uses portions of 90, 91, 97, 99; portion used in 107; <123
	ii. Hawthorne	c1916–17		>lost Hawthorne Concerto; borrows from 36, 85, 262;
	iii. The Alcotts	c1916–17	3 Aug 1921	>lost Alcott Overture
	iv. Thoreau	c1918–19	Hartford, CT, 12 Dec 1928	portions
89	Three-Page Sonata	[1905], c1910–11, rev. c1925–6	New York, 25 April 1949	ed. H. Cowell (1949); crit. edn J. Kirkpatrick (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1975); other edns in Joyce (E1970), Baron (D1987)

studies

90	Study no.1: Allegro	c 1910–11	New York, 23 March 1968	inc.; portion < or >part of 82; portions used in 22, 88/i, 91, 123/i
91	Study no.2: Andante moderato–Allegro molto	c1910–11, rev. c1925	New York, 23 March 1968	borrows part of 90;
93	Study no.5: Moderato con anima	c1912–13	New York, 23 March 1968	crit. edn A. Mandel (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1988)
94	Study no.6: Andante	c1912–13	New York, 23 March 1968
95	Study no.7: Andante cantabile	c1912–13	New York, 23 March 1968
96	Study no.8: Trio (Allegro moderato–Presto)	c1912–13	New Haven, 21 Nov 1966	borrows from 125
97	Study no.9: The Anti-Abolitionist Riots in the 1830’s and 1840’s	c1912–13	New York, 3 April 1950
99	Study no.11: Andante	c1915–16		inc.; > or
100	Study no.15: Allegro moderato	c1917–18	New York, 23 March 1968	inc.
101	Study no.16: Andante cantabile	c1917–18	Middletown, CT, 19 April 1991	inc.; real. J. Kirkpatrick and D. Berman (with 103)
103	Study no.19: Andante cantabile	c1914	Middletown, CT, 19 April 1991	inc.; real. J. Kirkpatrick and D. Berman (with 101)
104	Study no.20: March (Slow Allegro or Fast Andante)	c1917–19	New York, 23 March 1968	portion borrowed in 9/ii; crit. edn J. Kirkpatrick (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1981)
105	Study no.21: Some Southpaw Pitching	c1918–19	New York, 3 April 1950	>parts of 2/iii and 2/v; ed. H. Cowell (1949); crit. edn J. Kirkpatrick (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1975)
106	Study no.22: Andante maestoso–Allegro vivace	c1918–19, c1922–3		portion borrowed in 87/v; ed. H. Cowell (San Francisco, 1947); crit. edn J. Kirkpatrick (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1973)
107	Study no.23: Allegro	c1920–22	New York, 23 March 1968	portion >part of 85 or 82 (also used in 87/iva); portions >part of 22, part of 88/i; portion used in 123/ii; crit. edn J. Kirkpatrick (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1990)

marches

109	March no.1 for Piano, with ‘Year of Jubilee’	[1890], c1894–5
110	March no.2 for Piano, with ‘Son of a Gambolier’	1895		inc.; > or <353
111	March no.3 for Piano, with ‘Omega Lambda Chi’	c1895–6		<53
112	March no.5 for Piano, with ‘Annie Lisle’	c1895		<54
113	March no.6 for Piano, with ‘Here’s to Good Old Yale’	c1895–6	New York, 16 Feb 1975	three versions, first and third inc., third without borrowed tune; second
114	March in G and C for Piano, with ‘See the Conquering Hero Comes’	c1896–7
115	March for Piano: The Circus Band	c1898–9

other works

116	The Celestial Railroad	c1922–5	Albany, NY, 30 Oct 1928	>88/ii (which borrows from 36), ?>lost Hawthorne Concerto;
117	Three Improvisations	1938	recorded New York, 11 May 1938	transcr. from recording and ed. G. and J. Dapogny (1983)
	i. Improvisation I			borrows from 10/v or 70
	ii. Improvisation II			=part of 91
	iii. Improvisation III			borrows from 96 or 125
118	Invention in D	c1898	New York, 16 Feb 1975
119	Minuetto, op.4	1886
120	New Year’s Dance	1887		?inc.
	Three Protests: see 124
122	Set of Five Take-Offs	c1909	New York, 23 March 1968	crit. edn J. Kirkpatrick (1991)
	i. The Seen and Unseen?
	ii. Rough and Ready et al.			borrows part of 1/iv coda
	iii. Song without (good) Words/The Good & the Bad (new & old)
	iv. Scene Episode			portion
	v. Bad Resolutions and Good WAN!
123	Four Transcriptions from ‘Emerson’	c1923–4, c1926–7	New York, 12 March 1948 [complete work]
	i. Slowly	c1923–4, c1926–7	New York, 6 Jan 1931	>part of 88/i, part of 22; borrows from 90, 91, 97
	ii. Moderato	c1926–7		>part of 88/i, part of 22; borrows from 107
	iii. Largo	c1926–7		>part of 88/i, part of 22
	iv. Allegro agitato– Broadly	c1926–7		>part of 88/i, part of 22; borrows from 99
124	Varied Air and Variations	c1920–22	New Haven, 18 May 1967	portions ed. as Three Protests (San Francisco, 1947); ed. J. Kirkpatrick and G. Clarke (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1971)
125	Waltz-Rondo	1911	Syracuse, NY, 8 Feb 1965	crit. edn J. Kirkpatrick and J. Cox (1978); portions borrowed in 96, 117/iii

two pianos

128	Three Quarter-Tone Pieces	1923–4		ed. G. Pappastavrou (1968)
	i. Largo		New York, 14 Feb 1925 or 9 April 1929
	ii. Allegro		New York, 14 Feb 1925	reworks parts of 308 [or 10/iii or 186], 283 [or 11/i], 344 [or 10/i], 43/i [or 87/iib or 20/ii], 43/iv [or 87/ivb]
	iii. Chorale		New York, 8 Feb 1925	>lost quarter-tone chorale for str, reconstructed by A. Stout (1974)

organ

131	‘Adeste Fideles’ in an Organ Prelude	[1898], c1903		ed. E.P. Biggs (1949)
134	Canzonetta in F	c1893–4	New Haven, 21 Oct 1974
135	Fugue in C Minor	c1898	New Haven, 21 Oct 1974	?inc.
136	Fugue in E	c1898	New Haven, 21 Oct 1974
137	Interludes for Hymns	c1898–1901	New Haven, 21 Oct 1974
140	Variations on ‘America’	1891–2, additions c1909–10, rev. c1949	Brewster, NY, 17 Feb 1892	polytonal interludes added c1909–10; ed. E.P. Biggs (1949)

choral

sacred (more than one movement)

143	The Celestial Country (H. Alford), T, Bar, 2 vocal qts (both S, A, T, B), SATB, tpt, euphonium, timp, org, str qt/str orch	1898–1902, additions c1912–13	New York, 18 April 1902	org part lost; ed. J. Kirkpatrick (1973) [org part reconstructed]
	Introduction before no.1	added c1912–13
	i. Prelude, Trio, and Chorus			>inc. or lost anthem
	Prelude before no.2	added c1912–13
	ii. Aria for Baritone			<307
	iii. Quartet
	Interlude before no.4	added c1912–13
	iv. Intermezzo for String Quartet
	Interlude after no.4	added c1912–13
	v. Double Quartet, a cappella
	vi. Aria for Tenor			<252
	Introduction to no.7	added c1912–13
	vii. Chorale and Finale
144	Communion Service, SATB, org	c1894
	i. Kyrie			three settings, the first inc.
	ii. Gratias agimus
	iii. Gloria tibi
	iv. Sursum corda
	v. Credo			inc.
	vi. Sanctus			two settings
	vii. Benedictus
	viii. Agnus Dei
145	Three Harvest Home Chorales, SATB divisi, 4 tpt, 3 trbn, tuba, org	c1902, c1912–15	New York, 3 March 1948	ed. H. Cowell (1949)
	i. Harvest Home (G. Burgess)	c1902, c1915
	ii. Lord of the Harvest (J.H. Gurney)	c1915
	iii. Harvest Home (Alford)	c1912–15

psalms

146	Psalm 14, SATB, SATB	c1902, rev. c1912–13		crit. edn J. Kirkpatrick (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1995)
147	Psalm 24, SSAATTBB	c1901, rev. c1912–13		(1955)
148	Psalm 25, SSAATTBB, org	c1901, rev. c1912–13	Washington, DC, 24 Oct 1967	org part inc.; crit. edn J. Kirkpatrick and G. Smith (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1979) [org part reconstructed]
149	Psalm 42, T, SATB, org	c1891–2		org part inc.
150	Psalm 54, SSATBB	c1902	Los Angeles, 18 April 1966	ed. J. Kirkpatrick and G. Smith (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1973)
151	Psalm 67, SSAATTBB	c1898–9	New York, 6 May 1937	(1939)
152	Psalm 90, SSAATTBB, bells (4 players), org	1923–4	Los Angeles, 18 April 1966	ed. J. Kirkpatrick and G. Smith (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1970)
153	Psalm 100, SSAATTBB, boys’ choir (TrTrAA), opt. bells, opt. vns/org	c1902	Los Angeles, 18 April 1966	ed. J. Kirkpatrick and G. Smith (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1975)
154	Psalm 135, SSAATTBB, tpt, trbn, timp, drums, org	c1902, rev. c1912–13		crit. edn J. Kirkpatrick and G. Smith (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1981)
155	Psalm 150, SSAATTBB, boys’ choir (TrTrAA), opt. org	c1898–9	Los Angeles, 18 April 1966	ed. J. Kirkpatrick and G. Smith (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1972) [org part added by ed.]

other sacred

156	All-Forgiving, look on me (R. Palmer), SATB,	c1898–9		?org part lost
159	Benedictus in E, T/S, SATB, org	c1894
161	Bread of the World (R. Heber), unison vv, org	c1896–7		inc.
164	Crossing the Bar (A. Tennyson), SATB, org	c1894		org part inc.; ed. J. Kirkpatrick (1974) [org part reconstructed]
165	Easter Anthem, SATB, org	c1890–91		inc.
166	Easter Carol, S, A, T, B, SATB, org	c1896, rev. c1901	New York, 7 April 1901	crit. edn of rev. version J. Kirkpatrick (1973)
167	Gloria in Excelsis, A, unison vv, org	c1893–4		inc.
169	I Come to Thee (C. Elliott), SATB, ?org	c1896–7		no org in sources; opening figure reused in 219; crit. edn J. Kirkpatrick (1983) [org part added by ed.]
170	I Think of Thee, My God (J.S.B. Monsell), SATB	c1895–6		inc.; <375
173	The Light That Is Felt (J. Whittier), B, SATB, org	c1898		inc.; <287
174	Lord God, Thy Sea Is Mighty, SATB, org	c1900–01		org part mostly missing; crit. edn J. Kirkpatrick (1983) [org part reconstructed]
176	Processional: Let There Be Light (J. Ellerton), (TTBB and/or 4 trbn)/SSAATTBB, org/str orch, org/4 vn	c1902–3, rev. c1912–13, late 1930s	Danbury, 25 March 1966	choral/kbd reduction (1955); full score (1967); first version for SATB, org
178	Turn Ye, Turn Ye (J. Hopkins), SATB, org	c1896		org part inc.; (1952); crit. edn J. Kirkpatrick (Bryn Mawr, PA, 1973) [org part reconstructed]

secular works for chorus and ensemble

179	December (D.G. Rossetti, after Folgore), unison male vv, pic, 2 cl, 2 hn, 3 tpt, 3 trbn, tuba	c1914, rev. 1934	New York, 15 April 1934	> or
180	An Election (Ives), unison male vv divisi, orch	[1920], c1923	New York, 16 Oct 1967	< or >313; borrows part of 184 or 289
181	General William Booth Enters Into Heaven (V. Lindsay), unison vv divisi, chbr orch	arr. 1934	Los Angeles, 18 April 1966	arr. of 255 by J.J. Becker under Ives’s supervision
182	He Is There! (Ives), unison vv, orch	c1918–21	Norwalk, CT, 19 Oct 1959	>262 (itself partly >187 and borrowing from 36);
183	Johnny Poe (B. Low), TTBB, orch	c1927–9	Miami, 20 Oct 1974	inc.; crit. edn real. J. Kirkpatrick (1978)
184	Lincoln, the Great Commoner (E. Markham), unison vv divisi, orch	c1922–3	New York, 16 Oct 1967	>289; (San Francisco, 1932)
185	The Masses (Majority) (Ives), unison vv divisi, orch	c1916, rev. c1920–21	New York, 16 Oct 1967	<294
186	The New River (Ives), unison vv divisi, orch	c1915	New York, 15 April 1934	> or
187	Sneak Thief (Ives), unison vv divisi, tpt, pf	1914	New Haven, 21 Oct 1974	inc.; portion reworked in 262
188	They Are There! (A War Song March) (Ives), unison vv, orch	adapted 1942	Danbury, 25 March 1966 [with pf]; New York, 16 Oct 1967 [with orch]	>182 and 371 (themselves >262); ed. L. Harrison (1961)
189	Two Slants (Christian and Pagan)	c1912–14, c1916–17	Los Angeles, 18 April 1966	<380
	i. Duty (R.W. Emerson), unison male vv, orch
	ii. Vita (Manilius), unison vv, org
190	Walt Whitman (W. Whitman), SATB, chbr orch	c1914–15, rev. c1920–21	Los Angeles, 18 April 1966	inc.; >384 and lost earlier version

secular partsongs

192	The Bells of Yale (H. Mason), Bar, unison male vv, pf, vn	c1897, rev. c1900–01	South Norwalk, CT, 1 Dec 1897	three versions, first two for Bar, TTBB, vc [one adds bells, pf]; third version (1903)
193	The Boys in Blue, TTBB	c1895–6	New Haven, 21 Oct 1974
194	For You and Me!, TTBB/SATB	?1895–6		(1896); ed. and arr. C.G. Richter (Hackensack, NJ, 1973)
195	My Sweet Jeanette, TTBB	c1900		?inc.
196	O Maiden Fair, Bar, TTBB, pf	c1900		inc.
200	Serenade (H. Longfellow), SATB	c1895–6	New Haven, 14 Oct 1973
201	A Song of Mory’s (C.E. Merrill jr), TTBB	c1896	New Haven, 21 Oct 1974	(New Haven, 1897)
202	The Year’s at the Spring (R. Browning), SATB	c1892

songs

Editions: A 114 Songs (Redding, CT, 1922, 2/1975)A* in A and also in 50 Songs (Redding, CT, 1923, from plates of A)B Seven Songs (1932)C Thirty-Four Songs (San Francisco, 1933)D Nineteen Songs (San Francisco, 1935, also as Eighteen [sic] Songs)E Four Songs (1950)F Ten Songs (1953)G Twelve Songs (1954)H Fourteen Songs (1955)J Nine Songs (1956)K Thirteen Songs (1958)L [12] Sacred Songs (1961)M Eleven Songs and Two Harmonizations, ed. J. Kirkpatrick (1968)N Three Songs (1968)P Forty Earlier Songs, crit. edn J. Kirkpatrick (1993)



No.	Title and instrumentation	Dates

205	Abide with me (H.F. Lyte)	c1890–91, rev. c1921
First known performance : New York, 11 April 1962
Remarks and editions : new acc. added c1921; K, L
206	Aeschylus and Sophocles (W.S. Landor), 1v, pf, str qt/str orch	1922–c1924
First known performance : Los Angeles, 2 April 1951
Remarks and editions : >inc. Fugue in Four Greek Modes; D
207	Afterglow (J.F. Cooper jr)	1919
First known performance : New York, 6 Feb 1933
Remarks and editions :
208	Allegro (Ives)	adapted after c1902–3
First known performance : Danbury, 25 March 1966
Remarks and editions : >345; A, K
209	The All-Enduring	c1898–c1900
Remarks and editions : ?>lost TTBB version;
210	Amphion (Tennyson)	adapted after c1896–7
Remarks and editions : >275; A*, F
211	Ann Street (M. Morris)	1921
First known performance : New York, 6 Feb 1933
Remarks and editions : < 14/iv, 17/iii; A, C
212	At Parting (F. Peterson)	c1897–c1900
First known performance : Milwaukee, 28 March 1950
Remarks and editions : ?>lost earlier version; C
213	At Sea (R.U. Johnson)	arr. 1921
First known performance : New York, 17 Nov 1936
Remarks and editions : >12/i;
214	At the River (R. Lowry)	arr. [1916]
First known performance : Vienna, 15 Feb 1935
Remarks and editions : >part of 63/iii; A, C
216	August (D.G. Rossetti, after Folgore)	1920
Remarks and editions : A, G
217	Autumn (H. Twichell)	c1907–8
First known performance : New York, 24 Feb 1939
Remarks and editions : A, J
	Ballad from Rosamunde: see 337 (1st version)
218	Because of You	1898
Remarks and editions : P
219	Because Thou Art	c1901–2
Remarks and editions : opening figure >169; P
220	Berceuse (Ives)	adapted c1920
First known performance : New York, 24 Feb 1939
Remarks and editions : >395; A*, K
221	The Cage (Ives)	[1906]
First known performance : Philadelphia, 1 Nov 1962
Remarks and editions : > or
222	The Camp Meeting (Ives, C. Elliott)	arr. [1912]
Remarks and editions : >3/iii; A, K, L
223	Canon [I]	[1893], c1895–6
Remarks and editions :
224	Canon [II] (T. Moore)	adapted after c1895–6
First known performance : New York, 19 April 1942
Remarks and editions : >223; A, D
225	Chanson de Florian (J.P.C. de Florian)	c1898
First known performance : New York, 27 Dec 1949
Remarks and editions : A (1950)
226	Charlie Rutlage (D.J. O’Malley, as collected by J.A. Lomax)	1920/1921
First known performance : New Orleans, 17 Jan 1924
Remarks and editions : partly >portion of 55;
227	The Children’s Hour (Longfellow)	c1912–13
First known performance : Vienna, 15 Feb 1935
Remarks and editions : A*, C
228	A Christmas Carol (Ives)	before 1898
First known performance : Los Angeles, 1 Feb 1942
Remarks and editions : A*, D
229	The Circus Band (Ives)	adapted ?c1899 or ?c1920–21
First known performance : New Haven, 5 Nov 1966
Remarks and editions : >115;
230	The Collection	1920
Remarks and editions : A, K, L
232	Country Celestial (J.M. Neale, after Bernard of Cluny)	c1895–8
Remarks and editions : >or
233	Cradle Song (A.L. Ives)	1919
First known performance : New York, 5 Feb 1965
Remarks and editions : A*, D
234	December (D.G. Rossetti, after Folgore)	c1913–14
Remarks and editions : 179; A, C
235	Disclosure (Ives)	1921
Remarks and editions : A*, G, L
236	Down East (Ives)	1919
First known performance : New York, 24 Feb 1939
Remarks and editions : A, K, L
238	Dreams (after Baroness Porteous)	[1897]
Remarks and editions : A, J
239	Du alte Mutter (A.O. Vinje, Ger. trans. E. Lobedanz) [Eng. version My dear old mother (trans. F. Corder)]	[1900], c1902
First known performance : New York, 28 Nov 1922
Remarks and editions : second setting of Eng. version [see 316]; A, K
240	Du bist wie eine Blume (H. Heine)	c1896–7
Remarks and editions : >or
	Duty: see 380/a
241	Ein Ton (P. Cornelius) [Eng. version I hear a tone (trans. C.H. Laubach)]	c1900
Remarks and editions :
	An Election: see 313
242	Elégie (L. Gallet)	c1901–2
First known performance : Danbury, 17 March 1967
Remarks and editions : A*, J
243	The Ending Year	1902
Remarks and editions : ?>lost song, arr. J. Kirkpatrick as 357;
244	Evening (J. Milton)	1921
First known performance : Saratoga Springs, NY, 1 May 1932
Remarks and editions :
245	Evidence (Ives)	adapted [1910]
Remarks and editions : >394; A, J
	Eyes so dark: see 387
246	Far from my heav’nly home (Lyte)	c1893–4
Remarks and editions : M
247	Far in the wood	c1900
Remarks and editions :
248	A Farewell to Land (Byron)	c1909–10
First known performance : Minneapolis, 18 Jan 1944
Remarks and editions : D
249	La Fede (Ariosto)	1920
Remarks and editions : A*, D
250	Feldeinsamkeit (H. Allmers) [Eng. version In Summer Fields (trans. H.C. Chapman)]	c1897–8
First known performance : Los Angeles, 12 Nov 1946
Remarks and editions : A*, D
251	Flag Song (H.S. Durand)	[1898], c1900
Remarks and editions : (1968)
252	Forward into Light (Alford)	1902
Remarks and editions : >143/vi; A, F, L
253	Friendship	c1898–9
Remarks and editions : P
254	Frühlingslied (Heine)	c1898
Remarks and editions :
255	General William Booth Enters into Heaven (Lindsay)	1914, rev. c1933
First known performance : San Francisco, 26 Sept 1933
Remarks and editions : ?>lost version for unison male vv, band;
256	God Bless and Keep Thee	c1898, c1901–2
Remarks and editions : M
257	Grace	c1900–03
Remarks and editions :
258	Grantchester (R. Brooke)	1920
First known performance : New York, 13 Nov 1933
Remarks and editions : A*, J
259	The Greatest Man (A. Collins)	1921
First known performance : New York, 28 Feb 1924
Remarks and editions : A*, C, N
260	Gruss (Heine)	c1898–9, c1902–3
Remarks and editions :
261	Harpalus (anon., coll. T. Percy)	adapted [1902] or c1920
First known performance : Houston, 3 May 1943
Remarks and editions : >323; A, C
262	He Is There! (Ives), 1v/vv, pf, opt. vn/fl/fife	1917
First known performance : Danbury, 18 Jan 1940
Remarks and editions : portion >part of 187; borrows from 36;
	Hear My Prayer, O Lord: see 355c
263	Her Eyes	c1898
Remarks and editions :
264	Her gown was of vermilion silk	1897
Remarks and editions : P
265	His Exaltation (R. Robinson)	arr. [1913]
Remarks and editions : >ending of 61/i; A, J, L
266	The Housatonic at Stockbridge (R.U. Johnson)	arr. 1921
First known performance : New York, 11 May 1946
Remarks and editions : >7/iii, early song version; A, G
267	Hymn (J. Wesley, after G. Tersteegen)	arr. 1921
First known performance : San Francisco, 26 Sept 1933
Remarks and editions : >84/i; A*, C
268	Hymn of Trust (O.W. Holmes sr), 1v, org/pf	adapted c1899–c1900
Remarks and editions : inc.; >312; P [org part added by ed. J. Kirkpatrick]
	I hear a tone: see 241
269	I knew and loved a maid	c1898–9, c1901–2
Remarks and editions : P
270	I travelled among unknown men (W. Wordsworth)	adapted [1901]
Remarks and editions : >254; A*, F
271	Ich grolle nicht (Heine) [Eng. version I’ll not complain (trans. J.S. Dwight)]	c1898–9, rev. c1900–01
First known performance : Milwaukee, 28 March 1950
Remarks and editions : A, C [latter incl. Eng. version]
272	Ilmenau (J.W. von Goethe) [Eng. version Over all the treetops (trans. H. Twichell)]	c1903
First known performance : Danbury, 8 June 1922
Remarks and editions : A*, (1952)
273	Immortality (Ives)	1921
First known performance : Vienna, 15 Feb 1935
Remarks and editions : A*, C
275	In April-tide (C. Scollard)	c1896–7
Remarks and editions :
276	In Autumn	c1896
Remarks and editions : P
277	In Flanders Fields (J. McCrae)	1917, rev. 1919
First known performance : New York, 15 April 1917
Remarks and editions : A, H
278	In My Beloved’s Eyes (W.M. Chauvenet)	c1899
Remarks and editions :
	In Summer Fields: see 250
279	In the Alley (Ives)	[1896]
First known performance : Danbury, 18 Jan 1940
Remarks and editions : A, K
280	The ‘Incantation’ (Byron)	arr. 1921
Remarks and editions : >10/vi; A, C
283	The Indians (C. Sprague)	arr. 1921
First known performance : Saratoga Springs, NY, 1 May 1932
Remarks and editions : >11/i (itself
284	The Innate (Ives)	arr. [1916]
First known performance : Paris, 5 March 1936
Remarks and editions : >84/iii; A, D
285	Kären (P.K. Ploug, trans. C. Kappey)	c1900, c1905–6
First known performance : New Haven, 1 March 1968
Remarks and editions : A*, G
286	The Last Reader (Holmes)	arr. 1921
First known performance : New York, 2 Nov 1942
Remarks and editions : >11/iii, 18/i; A*, C
287	The Light That Is Felt (Whittier)	adapted c1899–1900, [1903–4], c1919–20
First known performance : New Haven, 7 Sept 1961
Remarks and editions : >173; A* (1950)
288	Like a Sick Eagle (J. Keats)	arr. 1920
First known performance : New York, 6 Feb 1933
Remarks and editions : >10/iv (itself
289	Lincoln, the Great Commoner (Markham)	c1919–20
First known performance : New York, 27 Dec 1949
Remarks and editions :
291	Die Lotosblume (Heine) [Eng. version The Lotus Flower]	c1897–8, rev. c1900–01 and c1908–9
Remarks and editions :
292	The Love Song of Har Dyal (R. Kipling)	c1899–c1900, c1902–3
Remarks and editions : P
293	Luck and Work (R.U. Johnson)	c1919–20
First known performance : Dallas, 7 Feb 1965
Remarks and editions : > or
294	Majority (Ives)	arr. 1921
First known performance : Paris, 5 March 1936
Remarks and editions : >185; A, D
295	Maple Leaves (T.B. Aldrich)	1920
First known performance : Saratoga Springs, NY, 1 May 1932
Remarks and editions : A, B
296	Marie (R. Gottschall) [Eng. version trans. E. Rücker]	[1896], c1901–2, second version c1903–4
Remarks and editions : first version in P; second version A*, H
297	Memories: a. Very Pleasant, b. Rather Sad (Ives)	[1897]
First known performance : Pittsburgh, 29 April 1949
Remarks and editions : A, F
298	Minnelied (L.H.C. Hölty)	c1901
Remarks and editions :
299	Mirage (C. Rossetti)	adapted [1902]
First known performance : Minneapolis, 29 May 1955
Remarks and editions : >263; A*, F
300	Mists [I] (H.T. Ives)	1910, c1912–13
Remarks and editions : <301
301	Mists [II] (H.T. Ives)	c1912–13, rev. c1920
First known performance : Vienna, 15 Feb 1935
Remarks and editions : >300;
	My dear old mother: see 239, 316
302	My Lou Jennine	c1894
Remarks and editions : P
303	My Native Land [I] (after Heine)	c1897–c1900
Remarks and editions : ?first setting; A, G
304	My Native Land [II] (after Heine)	c1900–01
Remarks and editions : ?second setting; P
306	Nature’s Way (Ives)	adapted [1908], c1909–10
Remarks and editions : >298; A*, H
307	Naught that country needeth (Alford)	c1898–9, rev. 1902
Remarks and editions : >143/ii; A*, H, L
308	The New River (Ives)	1914–15, ?rev. 1921
First known performance : Dresden, 11 March 1932
Remarks and editions : > or
309	Night of Frost in May (G. Meredith)	adapted [1899] or c1920
First known performance : New York, 30 March 1940
Remarks and editions : >241; A*, D
310	A Night Song (T. Moore)	adapted ?c1920
First known performance : New York, 10 Feb 1950
Remarks and editions : >247; A (1952), later printings of K
311	A Night Thought (Moore)	adapted c1916
First known performance : New York, 28 Nov 1922
Remarks and editions : >278; A*, C
312	No More (W. Winter)	1897
First known performance : New Haven, 22 Feb 1956
Remarks and editions :
313	Nov. 2, 1920 (An Election) (Ives)	c1921
First known performance : Bennington, VT, 17 June 1959
Remarks and editions : > or
314	An Old Flame (Ives)	c1898, c1901
First known performance : New York, 15 May 1901
Remarks and editions : A, K
315	Old Home Day (Ives), 1v, pf, opt. vn/fl/fife	c1920
First known performance : London, 17 June 1965
Remarks and editions : portions > or
316	The Old Mother (Vinje, trans. Corder)	?1898, c1902
Remarks and editions : first setting: see also 239; P
317	Omens and Oracles	[1899], c1902
First known performance : Danbury, 17 March 1967
Remarks and editions : A, F
318	On Judges’ Walk (A. Symons)	c1901–2
First known performance : New Haven, 7 Sept 1961
Remarks and editions : >first theme of 1/i;
319	On the Antipodes (Ives), 1v, pf 4 hands	c1922–3
First known performance : New York, 11 May 1963
Remarks and editions : chords derived in part from 6; D
320	On the Counter (Ives)	1920
Remarks and editions : modelled on 355; A, H
321	‘1, 2, 3’ (Ives)	1921
First known performance : Philadelphia, 23 April 1940
Remarks and editions : portion >part of 85 or 82; A, E
322	The One Way (Ives)	c1922–3
Remarks and editions : M
323	The Only Son (Kipling)	c1898–9
Remarks and editions :
	Over all the treetops: see 272
324	Paracelsus (Browning)	1921
First known performance : Paris, 5 March 1936
Remarks and editions : portions >parts of 27;
325	Peaks (H. Bellamann)	c1923–4
Remarks and editions : M
326	A Perfect Day	1902
Remarks and editions : P
327	Pictures (M.P. Turnbull)	1906
First known performance : Germantown, PA, 11 Oct 1963
Remarks and editions : M
328	Premonitions (R.U. Johnson)	arr. 1921
First known performance : San Francisco, 15 Feb 1934
Remarks and editions : >12/iii; A, C
329	Qu’il m’irait bien	c1897–9
Remarks and editions : A, G
330	The Rainbow (So May It Be!) (Wordsworth)	arr. 1921
First known performance : New York, 27 Dec 1949
Remarks and editions : >45;
331	Religion (L.Y. Case)	arr. c1910–11
Remarks and editions : >lost anthem; A*, G, L
332	Remembrance (Ives)	arr. 1921
Remarks and editions : >40;
333	Requiem (R.L. Stevenson)	1911
First known performance : Paris, 5 March 1936
Remarks and editions : D
334	Resolution (Ives)	1921
First known performance : Paris, 5 March 1936
Remarks and editions : A*, D
335	Rock of Ages (A.M. Toplady), 1v, pf/org	c1892
First known performance : ? Danbury, 30 April 1893
Remarks and editions : M
336	Romanzo (di Central Park) (L. Hunt)	[1900], c1911
First known performance : Bennington, VT, 17 June 1959
Remarks and editions : A, H
337	Rosamunde (H. von Chézy, Fr. paraphrase by Bélanger)	c1898–9, c1901–2
Remarks and editions : first version (Ger. only) in P; Fr. text substituted in second version in A, H
338	Rosenzweige (K. Stieler)	c1902–3
Remarks and editions : >345;
339	Rough Wind (P.B. Shelley)	adapted [1902]
First known performance : New York, 1 March 1932
Remarks and editions : >318 (itself >first theme of 1/i); A, C
341	A Scotch Lullaby (Merrill)	1896
Remarks and editions : (New Haven, 1896), M
342	A Sea Dirge (W. Shakespeare)	1925
First known performance : New Haven, 22 Feb 1956
Remarks and editions :
343	The Sea of Sleep	1903
Remarks and editions :
344	The See’r (Ives)	c1914–15, arr. 1920
First known performance : Saratoga Springs, NY, 1 May 1932
Remarks and editions : >10/i; portions reworked in 128/ii; A, B
345	Sehnsucht (C. Winther, Ger. trans. E. Lobedanz)	c1902–3
Remarks and editions :
346	September (D.G. Rossetti, after Folgore)	c1919–20
First known performance : New York, 11 May 1963
Remarks and editions : A, C
347	Serenity (Whittier)	arr. [1919]
First known performance : New York, 15 March 1929
Remarks and editions : >inc. or lost choral version; A, B
348	The Side Show (Ives)	adapted 1921
First known performance : New York, 24 Feb 1939
Remarks and editions : >lost piece for 1896 college show; A, G
349	Slow March (L. Brewster, Ives family)	c1887, rev. 1921
Remarks and editions : A, F
350	Slugging a Vampire (Ives)	adapted [1902] or c1920
First known performance : New York, 21 Feb 1947
Remarks and editions : >367; D
	So May It Be!: see 330
352	Soliloquy (Ives)	c1916–17
First known performance : Philadelphia, 1 Nov 1962
Remarks and editions : C
353	A Son of a Gambolier, 1v, pf, opt. fls/vns/other insts	arr. c1919–21
Remarks and editions : >110; A, J
354	Song (H. Coleridge)	c1897
Remarks and editions : P
355	A Song – For Anything	c1921
Remarks and editions : A, H; 355c reused for 355a and 355b; in assembling 114 Songs Ives combined all three texts to make 355; used as model for 320
	a. When the waves softly sigh (?Ives)	[1892]
	b. Yale, Farewell! (?Ives)	c1898–9
	c. Hear My Prayer, O Lord (N. Tate, N. Brady)	c1889–90
356	Song for Harvest Season (G. Phillimore), 1v (cornet/tpt, trbn, b trbn/tuba)/org	1894, rev. c1932–3
First known performance : Minneapolis, 18 Jan 1944
Remarks and editions : C
357	The Song of the Dead (Kipling)	?1898
Remarks and editions : conjectured first text for music of 243 (itself
361	Songs my mother taught me (A. Heyduk, Eng. trans. N. Macfarran)	[1895], c1899–c1901
First known performance : Danbury, 17 March 1967
Remarks and editions :
362	The South Wind (H. Twichell)	adapted 1908
Remarks and editions : >291; A*, C
363	Spring Song (Twichell)	1907
First known performance : Danbury, 8 June 1922
Remarks and editions : ?>lost song; A*, G
365	Sunrise (Ives), 1v, pf, vn	1926
First known performance : New Haven, 7 Sept 1961
Remarks and editions : crit. edn J. Kirkpatrick (1977)
366	Swimmers (L. Untermeyer)	[1915], ?rev. 1921
First known performance : San Francisco, 26 Sept 1933
Remarks and editions :
367	Tarrant Moss (Kipling)	c1902–3
First known performance : New Haven, 2 June 1960
Remarks and editions :
369	There is a certain garden	[1893], c1896–8
First known performance : New Haven, 22 Feb 1956
Remarks and editions : M
370	There is a lane (Ives)	adapted [1902] or c1920
Remarks and editions : >393; A*, J
371	They Are There! (Ives), 1v/vv, pf, opt. vn/fl/fife, opt. 2nd pf	adapted 1942
First known performance : New Haven, 19 Oct 1973
Remarks and editions : >182, 262 (which borrows from 187 and 36);
372	The Things Our Fathers Loved (Ives)	1917
First known performance : New York, 15 March 1929
Remarks and editions : >inc. or lost orch work; A, H
373	Thoreau (Ives, after H. Thoreau)	arr. c1920
First known performance : Poughkeepsie, NY, 19 April 1934
Remarks and editions : portions >parts of 88/iv; A, C
374	Those Evening Bells (T. Moore)	adapted [1907]
Remarks and editions : >343; A, H
375	Through Night and Day (after J.S.B. Monsell)	adapted c1897–8
Remarks and editions : >170; P
376	To Edith (H.T. Ives)	1919
Remarks and editions : ?>lost song; A*, F
377	Tolerance (Kipling)	arr. 1921
First known performance : Minneapolis, 18 Jan 1944
Remarks and editions : >10/ii; A, C
378	Tom Sails Away (Ives)	1917
First known performance : New York, 11 May 1963
Remarks and editions : A, D
	Ein Ton: see 241
379	Two Little Flowers (C. Ives, H.T. Ives)	1921
First known performance : New York, 24 Feb 1939
Remarks and editions : A*, D, N
380	Two Slants (Christian and Pagan)
First known performance : Dallas, 7 Feb 1965 [complete work]
Remarks and editions : >189; A*, C, E
	a. Duty (Emerson)	arr. 1921
First known performance : Dallas, 7 Feb 1965
	b. Vita (Manilius)	arr. 1921
First known performance : Boston, 22 April 1934
381	Vote for Names! Names! Names! (Ives), 1v, 3 pf	1912
Remarks and editions : inc.; (1968); ed. N. Schoffman, CMc, no.23 (1977)
382	The Waiting Soul (J. Newton)	adapted [1908]
Remarks and editions : >243; A*, G, L
383	Walking (Ives)	c1912
First known performance : Saratoga Springs, NY, 1 May 1932
Remarks and editions : >inc. or lost anthem; A*, B
384	Walt Whitman (Whitman)	c1920–21
First known performance : Poughkeepsie, NY, 19 April 1934
Remarks and editions : >lost early version of 190;
385	Waltz (Ives)	c1894–5, rev. 1921
Remarks and editions : A, G
386	Watchman! (J. Bowring)	adapted [1913]
Remarks and editions : >lost early song version or part of 60/iii;
387	Weil’ auf mir (N. Lenau) [Eng. version Eyes so dark (trans. after E. Rücker and W.J. Westbrook)]	[1902]
Remarks and editions : A, H
388	West London (M. Arnold)	1921
First known performance : Colorado Springs, CO, 28 April 1939
Remarks and editions : >inc. Matthew Arnold Overture;
389	When stars are in the quiet skies (E.R. Bulwer-Lytton)	adapted c1899–c1900
First known performance : Oxford, OH, 14 May 1950
Remarks and editions : >240 or 232; A*, C
	When the waves softly sigh: see 355a
390	Where the eagle cannot see (M.P. Turnbull)	adapted c1906
First known performance : Saratoga Springs, NY, 1 Oct 1933
Remarks and editions : >257; A, (1935), early printings of K, L, N
391	The White Gulls (M. Morris, after Russian poem)	c1920–21
First known performance : Danbury, 8 June 1922
Remarks and editions : A*, C
393	Widmung (W.M. von Königswinter)	?1898
Remarks and editions :
394	Wie Melodien zieht es mir (K. Groth)	c1898–1900
Remarks and editions :
395	Wiegenlied (Des Knaben Wunderhorn)	c1906
First known performance : Germantown, PA, 11 Oct 1963
Remarks and editions :
396	William Will (S.B. Hill)	1896
Remarks and editions : portion >part of 31; (1896), P
397	The World’s Highway (H. Twichell)	1906/1907
Remarks and editions : A, K
398	The World’s Wanderers (Shelley)	adapted after c1898–9
First known performance : Danbury, 17 March 1967
Remarks and editions : >260; A*, F
	Yale, Farewell!: see 355b
399	Yellow Leaves (Bellamann)	1923
First known performance : New Haven, 22 Feb 1956
Remarks and editions : M

arrangements

439	Beethoven: Adagio in F from Piano Sonata op.2 no.1, str qt	c1898	New Haven, 21 Oct 1974
440	E. Ives: Christmas Carol, 1v, pf, opt. bells	1924/1925	New York, Dec 1925	M
441	In the Mornin’, 1v, pf	1929		M

WRITINGS

Essays Before a Sonata (New York, 1920/R)

‘Some “Quarter-tone” Impressions’, Franco-American Music Society Bulletin (25 March 1925)

‘Music and its Future’, American Composers on American Music, ed. H. Cowell (Stanford, CA, 1933/R)

Essays Before a Sonata and Other Writings, ed. H. Boatwright (New York, 1962, rev. 2/1970 as Essays Before a Sonata, The Majority, and Other Writings)

Memos, ed. J. Kirkpatrick (New York, 1972)

a: catalogues, bibliographies and reference works

BIBLIOGRAPHY

b: collections of articles

c: life and works

d: studies of the music

e: studies of individual works or genres

a: catalogues, bibliographies and reference works

J. Kirkpatrick: A Temporary Mimeographed Catalogue of the Music Manuscripts and Related Materials of Charles Edward Ives 1874–1954 (New Haven, CT, 1960)

D. Hall: ‘Charles Ives: a Discography’, Hi Fi/Stereo Review, xiii (1964), no.4, pp.142–5; no.5, pp.102–6; no.6, pp.92–6

R. Warren: Charles E. Ives: Discography (New Haven, CT, 1972)

H. Henck: ‘Literatur zu Charles Ives’, Neuland, i (1980), 25–7, 46, 52; ii (1981–2), 208, 268–9; iii (1983–4), 243–6

C.J. Oja, ed.: ‘Charles Ives’, American Music Recordings: a Discography of 20th-Century U.S. Composers (New York, 1982), 171–80 [covers 1972–9]

V. Perlis, ed.: Charles Ives Papers (New Haven, CT, 1983)

G. Block: Charles Ives: a Bio-Bibliography (New York, 1988)

W. Rathert: Charles Ives (Darmstadt, 1989, 2/1996)

C.W. Henderson: The Charles Ives Tunebook (Warren, MI, 1990)

J.B. Sinclair: A Descriptive Catalogue of the Music of Charles Ives (New Haven, CT, 1999)

b: collections of articles

An Ives Celebration: Brooklyn, NY, and New Haven, CT, 1974 [incl. articles by R.M. Crunden, F.R. Rossiter, N. Bruce, R.P. Morgan, A. Forte, W. Brooks]

CMc, no.18 (1974) [incl. articles by H. Perison, J. Tick, C.W. Ward]

Musical Educators Journal, lxi/2 (1974) [incl. articles by P. Echols, E. Gratovich, C.W. Henderson, W.C. Kumlien]

P. Garland, ed.: Soundings: Ives, Ruggles, Varèse (Santa Fe, 1974) [incl. articles on Ives by L. Harrison, P. Corner, J. Tenney, M. Goldstein]

CMc, no.19 (1975) [incl. articles by H. Helms, L. Wallach]

Parnassus, iii/2 (1975) [incl. articles by E. Carter, L. Harrison, A. Koppenhaver, D. Walker, P. Yates]

Student Musicologists at Minnesota, vi (1975–6) [incl. articles by D. Argento, C. Hansen, H. Helms, J. Kirkpatrick, A. Mandel, P. Parthun, J. Riedel]

F.W. O’Reilly, ed.: South Florida’s Historic Ives Festival 1974–1976 (Coral Gables, FL, 1976) [incl. articles by R.A. Barr, M. Ellison, J. Moross, W. Shirley, E. Siegmeister, N. Slonimsky, F. Wickstrom, D. Wooldridge]

H. Danuser, D. Kämper and P. Terse, ed.: Amerikanische Musik seit Charles Ives: Interpretationen, Quellentexte, Komponistenmonographien (Laaber, 1987) [incl. articles by H.W. Hitchcock, D. Kämper, C. Ives, F. Meyer]

Charles Ives und die amerikanische Musiktradition bis zur Gegenwart: Cologne 1988 [incl. articles by J.P. Burkholder, D. Kämper, R.P. Morgan, W. Rathert]

G. Block and J.P. Burkholder, eds.: Charles Ives and the Classical Tradition (New Haven, CT, 1996) [incl. articles by G. Block, A. Buchman, J.P. Burkholder, P. Lambert, R.P. Morgan, N.E. Tawa, K.C. Ward]

J.P. Burkholder, ed.: Charles Ives and his World (Princeton, NJ, 1996) [incl. articles by L. Botstein, M. Broyles, J.P. Burkholder, D.M. Hertz, and M. Tucker, with selected correspondence 1881–1954, reviews 1888–1951, profiles 1932–55]

P. Lambert, ed.: Ives Studies (Cambridge, 1998) [incl. articles by L. Austin, G. Block, J.P. Burkholder, S. Feder, H.W. Hitchcock, P. Lambert, R.P. Morgan, W. Rathert, G. Sherwood, J. Tick]

c: life and works

GroveA (J. Kirkpatrick)

H. Cowell: ‘Charles Ives’, MM, x (1932–3), 24–33

H. Bellamann: ‘Charles Ives: the Man and his Music’, MQ, xix (1933), 45–58

H. Cowell: American Composers on American Music (Stanford, CA, 1933/R), 128–45

R.J. Moore: The Background and the Symbol: Charles Ives (thesis, Yale U., 1954)

L. Schrade: ‘Charles E. Ives: 1874–1954’, Yale Review, 2nd ser., xliv (1954–5), 535–45; repr. in Charles Ives and his World, ed. J.P. Burkholder (Princeton, NJ, 1996), 433–42

H. and S. Cowell: Charles Ives and his Music (New York, 1955, 2/1969)

J. Bernlef and R. de Leeuw: Charles Ives (Amsterdam, 1969); partial Eng. trans. in Student Musicologists at Minnesota, vi (1975–6), 128–91

W.W. Austin: ‘Ives and Histories’, GfMKB: Bonn 1970, 299–303

L. Wallach: The New England Education of Charles Ives (diss., Columbia U., 1973)

V. Perlis: Charles Ives Remembered: an Oral History (New Haven, CT, 1974/R)

R.S. Perry: Charles Ives and the American Mind (Kent, OH, 1974)

J. Tick: ‘Ragtime and the Music of Charles Ives’, CMc, no.18 (1974), 105–13

G. Vinay: L’America musicale di Charles Ives (Turin, 1974)

D. Wooldridge: From the Steeples and Mountains: a Study of Charles Ives (New York, 1974); repr. as Charles Ives: a Portrait (London, 1975)

R. Crunden: ‘Charles Ives’ Innovative Nostalgia’, Choral Journal, xv/4 (1974–5), 5–12

F.R. Rossiter: Charles Ives and his America (New York, 1975)

D. Eiseman: ‘George Ives as Theorist: some Unpublished Documents’, PNM, xiv/1 (1975–6), 139–47

S. Blum: ‘Ives’s Position in Social and Musical History’, MQ, lxiii (1977), 459–82

G.E. Clarke: Essays on American Music (Westport, CT, 1977), 105–31

H. Lück: ‘Provokation und Utopie: ein Porträt des amerikanischen Komponisten Charles Edward Ives’, Neuland, i (1980), 3–15

R.H. Mead: ‘Cowell, Ives and New Music’, MQ, lxvi (1980), 538–59

R. DiYanni: ‘In the American Grain: Charles Ives and the Transcendentalists’, Journal of American Culture, iv/4 (1981), 139–51

S. Feder: ‘Charles and George Ives: the Veneration of Boyhood’, Annual of Psychoanalysis, ix (1981), 265–316; repr. in Psychoanalytic Explorations in Music, ed. S. Feder, R.L. Karmel and G.H. Pollock (Madison, CT, 1990), 115–76

F.R. Rossiter: ‘The “Genteel Tradition” in American Music’, Journal of American Culture, iv/4 (1981), 107–15

S. Feder: ‘The Nostalgia of Charles Ives: an Essay in Affects and Music’, Annual of Psychoanalysis, x (1982), 301–32; repr. in Psychoanalytic Explorations in Music, ed. S. Feder, R.L. Karmel and G.H. Pollock (Madison, CT, 1990), 233–66

P.J. Conn: ‘Innovation and Nostalgia: Charles Ives’, The Divided Mind: Ideology and Imagination in America, 1898–1917 (Cambridge, 1983), 230–50

M.S. Harvey: Charles Ives: Prophet of American Civil Religion (diss., Boston U., 1983)

S. Feder: ‘Charles Ives and the Unanswered Question’, The Psychoanalytic Study of Society, x, ed. W. Münsterberger, L.B. Boyer, and S.A. Grolnick (Hillsdale, NJ, 1984), 321–51

J.W. Reed: Three American Originals: John Ford, William Faulkner and Charles Ives (Middletown, CT, 1984)

J.P. Burkholder: Charles Ives: the Ideas Behind the Music (New Haven, 1985)

J.J. Gibbens: Debussy’s Impact on Ives: an Assessment (diss., U. of Illinois, 1985)

M.S. Moore: Yankee Blues: Musical Culture and American Identity (Bloomington, IN, 1985)

K.C. Ward: Musical Idealism: a Study of the Aesthetics of Arnold Schoenberg and Charles Ives (diss., Northwestern U., 1985)

J. Maderuelo: Charles Ives (Madrid, 1986)

D. Rostkowski: Ives (Gdańsk, 1987)

M. Solomon: ‘Charles Ives: some Questions of Veracity’, JAMS, xl (1987), 443–70 [response: J.P. Lambert, JAMS, xlii (1989), 204–9; counter-response: M. Solomon, JAMS, xliii (1989), 209–18]

R.N. Bukoff: Charles Ives: a History and Bibliography of Criticism (1920–1939), and Ives’ Influence (to 1947) on Bernard Herrmann, Elie Siegmeister, and Robert Palmer (diss., Cornell U., 1988)

J.P. Burkholder: ‘Charles Ives and his Fathers: a Response to Maynard Solomon’, Institute for Studies in American Music Newsletter, xviii/1 (1988), 8–11

C.K. Baron: ‘Dating Charles Ives’s Music: Facts and Fictions’, PNM, xxviii/1 (1990), 20–56

W. Osborne: ‘Charles Ives the Organist’, The American Organist, xxiv/7 (1990), 58–64

A. Ivashkin: Charlz Aivz i muzïka XX veka (Moscow, 1991)

C.K. Baron: ‘Georges Ives’s Essay in Music Theory: an Introduction and Annotated Edition’, American Music, x (1992), 239–88

S. Feder: Charles Ives, ‘My Father’s Song’: a Psychoanalytic Biography (New Haven, CT, 1992)

R.V. Wiecki: ‘Two Musical Idealists, Charles Ives and E. Robert Schmitz: a Friendship Reconsidered’, American Music, x (1992), 1–19

J. Tick: ‘Charles Ives and Gender Ideology’, Musicology and Difference: Gender and Sexuality in Music Scholarship, ed. R.A. Solie (Berkeley, 1993), 83–106

G. Sherwood: ‘Questions and Veracities: Reassessing the Chronology of Ives’s Choral Works’, MQ, lxxviii (1994), 429–47

L. Starr: ‘Ives, Gershwin, and Copland: Reflections on the Strange History of American Art Music’, American Music, xii (1994), 167–87

D.V.G. Cooney: Reconciliation: Time, Space and the American Place in the Music of Charles Ives (diss., U. of Washington, 1995)

L. Kramer: ‘Cultural Politics and Musical Form: the Case of Charles Ives’, Classical Music and Postmodern Knowledge (Berkeley, 1995), 174–200

A. Rich: American Pioneers: Ives to Cage and Beyond (London, 1995)

J. Swafford: Charles Ives: a Life with Music (New York, 1996)

J.P. Burkholder: ‘Ives and Yale: the Enduring Influence of a College Experience’, College Music Symposium, xxxix (1999), 27–42

S. Feder: The Life of Charles Ives (Cambridge, 1999)

T.C. Owens: Charles Ives and His American Context: Images of ‘Americanness’ in the Arts (diss., Yale U., 1999)

d: studies of the music

H. Bellamann: ‘The Music of Charles Ives’, Pro-Musica Quarterly, v/1 (1927), 16–22

P. Rosenfeld: ‘Charles E. Ives, Pioneer Atonalist’, New Republic (20 July 1932)

P. Rosenfeld: Discoveries of a Music Critic (New York, 1936/R), 315–24

W. Mellers: ‘Music in the Melting Pot: Charles Ives and the Music of the Americas’, Scrutiny, vii (1938–9), 390–403

E. Carter: ‘An American Destiny’, Listen, ix/1 (1946), 4–7

L. Harrison: ‘The Music of Charles Ives’, Listen, ix/1 (1946), 7–9

L. Harrison: ‘On Quotation’, MM, xxiii (1946), 166–9

W. Mellers: ‘Realism and Transcendentalism: Charles Ives as American Hero’, Music in a New Found Land: Themes and Developments in the History of American Music (London, 1964/R), 38–64

D. Marshall: ‘Charles Ives’s Quotations: Manner or Substance?’, PNM, vi/2 (1967–8), 45–56; repr. in Perspectives on American Composers, ed. B. Boretz and E.T. Cone (New York, 1971), 13–24

C.W. Henderson: Quotation as a Style Element in the Music of Charles Ives (diss., Washington U., 1969)

C. Ward: The Use of Hymn Tunes as an Expression of ‘Substance’ and ‘Manner’ in the Music of Charles E. Ives, 1874–1954 (thesis, U. of Texas, 1969)

A. Davidson: ‘Transcendental Unity in the Works of Charles Ives’, American Quarterly, xxii (1970), 35–44

J.M. Rinehart: Ives’ Compositional Idioms: an Investigation of Selected Short Compositions as Microcosms of his Musical Language (diss., Ohio State U., 1970)

D. Dujmić: ‘The Musical Transcendentalism of Charles Ives’, IRASM, ii (1971), 89–94

V. Thomson: ‘The Ives Case’, American Music Since 1910 (New York, 1971), 22–30; repr. in A Virgil Thomson Reader (Boston, 1981), 460–67

C.W. Henderson: ‘Structural Importance of Borrowed Music in the Works of Charles Ives: a Preliminary Assessment’, IMSCR XI: Copenhagen 1972, 437–46

H. Isham: ‘The Musical Thinking of Charles Ives’, Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, xxxi (1973), 395–404

R.P. Morgan: ‘Rewriting Music History: Second Thoughts on Ives and Varèse’, Musical Newsletter, iii (1973), no.1, pp.3–12; no.2, pp.15–23, 28

P. Dickinson: ‘A New Perspective for Ives’, MT, cxv (1974), 836–8

R. Middleton: ‘Ives and Schoenberg: an English View’, Saturday Review [New York] (21 Sept 1974)

C. Ward: Charles Ives: the Relationship Between Aesthetic Theories and Compositional Processes (diss., U. of Texas, 1974)

H.W. Hitchcock: Ives (London, 1977/R)

L. Starr: ‘Charles Ives: the Next Hundred Years: Towards a Method of Analyzing the Music’, MR, xxxviii (1977), 101–11

N.S. Josephson: ‘Charles Ives: intervallische Permutationen im Spätwerk’, Zeitschrift für Musiktheorie, ix/2 (1978), 27–33

R.P. Morgan: ‘Ives and Mahler: Mutual Responses at the End of an Era’, 19CM, ii (1978–9), 72–81; repr. in Charles Ives and the Classical Tradition, ed. G. Block and J.P. Burkholder (New Haven, CT, 1996), 75–86

C. Ballantine: ‘Charles Ives and the Meaning of Quotation in Music’, MQ, lxv (1979), 167–84

S.S. Pavlyshyn: Charlz Aivz (Moscow, 1979)

N. Schoffman: ‘Serialism in the Works of Charles Ives’, Tempo, no.138 (1981), 21–32

J.P. Burkholder: The Evolution of Charles Ives’s Music: Aesthetics, Quotation, Technique (diss., U. of Chicago, 1983)

L.L. Gingerich: Processes of Motivic Transformation in the Keyboard and Chamber Music of Charles E. Ives (diss., Yale U., 1983)

L. Starr: ‘The Early Styles of Charles Ives’, 19CM, vii (1983–4), 71–80

G. Danner: ‘Ives’ Harmonic Language’, JMR, v (1984), 237–49

C. Schorske: ‘Mahler et Ives: archaïsme populiste et innovation musicale’, Gustav Mahler: Paris 1985, 87–97

L.L. Gingerich: ‘A Technique for Melodic Motivic Analysis in the Music of Charles Ives’, Music Theory Spectrum, viii (1986), 75–93

D. Lambourn: ‘Grainger and Ives’, SMA, xx (1986), 46–61

T.D. Winters: Additive and Repetitive Techniques in the Experimental Works of Charles Ives (diss., U. of Pennsylvania, 1986)

C.K. Baron: Ives on his Own Terms: an Explication, a Theory of Pitch Organization, and a New Critical Edition for the ‘3-Page Sonata’ (diss., CUNY, 1987)

H.W. Davies: The Correlation Between Source and Style in the Music of Ives (diss., U. of Wales, Cardiff, 1987)

A. Ivashkin: ‘Das Paradoxon des Traditionellen in der Musik von Charles Ives’, Kunst und Literatur, xxxv (1987), 822–31

J.P. Lambert: Compositional Procedures in the Experimental Works of Charles E. Ives (diss., Eastman School, 1987)

Y. Sakae: ‘Charles Ives no ongakukozo ni okeru de-composition’ [De-composition in the structure of Ives’s music], Ongaku-gaku, xxxiv/2 (1988), 97–111

J.P. Lambert: ‘Ives’s “Piano-Drum” Chords’, Intégral, iii (1989), 1–36

J.P. Burkholder: ‘The Critique of Tonality in the Early Experimental Music of Charles Ives’, Music Theory Spectrum, xii (1990), 203–23

J.P. Lambert: ‘Aggregate Structures in Music of Charles Ives’, JMT, xxxiv (1990), 29–55

J.P. Lambert: ‘Interval Cycles as Compositional Resources in the Music of Charles Ives’, Music Theory Spectrum, xii (1990), 43–82

D. Nicholls: American Experimental Music, 1890–1940 (Cambridge, 1990)

C.K. Baron: ‘Meaning in the Music of Charles Ives’, Metaphor: a Musical Dimension, ed. J.C. Kassler (Sydney, 1991), 37–50

J.P. Lambert: ‘Ives and Counterpoint’, American Music, ix (1991), 119–48

W. Rathert: The Seen and Unseen: Studien zum Werk von Charles Ives (Munich, 1991)

L. Starr: A Union of Diversities: Style in the Music of Charles Ives (New York, 1992)

T. Giebisch: Take-Off als Kompositionsprinzip bei Charles Ives (Kassel, 1993)

D.M. Hertz: Angels of Reality: Emersonian Unfoldings in Wright, Stevens, and Ives (Carbondale, IL, 1993)

J.P. Lambert: ‘Toward a Theory of Chord Structure for the Music of Ives’, JMT, xxxvii (1993), 55–83

T.M. Brodhead: ‘Ives’s Celestial Railroad and his Fourth Symphony’, American Music, xii (1994), 389–424

J. Hepokoski: ‘Temps Perdu’, MT, cxxxv (1994), 746–51

A.B. Scott: ‘Medieval and Renaissance Techniques in the Music of Charles Ives: Horatio at the Bridge?’, MQ, lxxviii (1994), 448–78

J.P. Burkholder: All Made of Tunes: Charles Ives and the Uses of Musical Borrowing (New Haven, CT, 1995)

P. Lambert: The Music of Charles Ives (New Haven, CT, 1997)

D. Metzer: ‘“We Boys”: Childhood in the Music of Charles Ives’, 19CM, xxi (1997–8), 77–95