This is WIAA Interlochen 88.7 FM and WICV East Jordan Charlevoix 100.9 FM.
Yes, I'm ready. Or, to put it another way, I am not unprepared. Here's the theme.
Hello there, I'm Peter Shickely, and this is Shickely Mix, a program dedicated to the proposition that all musics are created equal.
Or, as Duke Ellington put it, if it sounds good, it is good.
And once again, I have the good fortune to report that our bills are paid by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, by the National Endowment for the Arts,
and by this, I've said it before and I'll say it again, excellent radio station within whose walls I concoct these hearty oral delicacies,
consisting of a good solid filling of education topped with a light, fluffy meringue of entertainment.
Once out of the digital oven, the tart but tasty pedagogical pies are loaded into a delivery truck that floats thousands of miles above the earth.
Once they are distributed to the culturally starved public by PRI, Public Radio International.
In 1764, when Mozart was eight years old, he and his sister and their father were in London, and Leopold got sick, so they moved to a house in the country.
Since TV and Legos and goop and video games, in fact anything that was any fun at all, hadn't been invented yet, there wasn't much for the kids to do.
So little Wolfie said to himself, I think I'll sit down and write the first of my 41 symphonies.
Naturally, he wrote in the style that was the happenin' thing in those days, a style that is now called Rococo.
One of the characteristics of that style is frequent and literal repetition.
Here's the beginning of Mozart's 11th Symphony, written at the ripe old age of 14.
Charles McCarris conducting the opening of Mozart's 11th Symphony, in which everything you hear, you hear twice, and the second verse is the same as the first.
On another edition of this program, we looked into the uses of literal repetition, and today we're going to consider a related technique called sneaky repetition.
That's where you endeavor to take advantage of some of the attractions of repetition, the comfort of the familiar and the enlightenment that results from hearing the same thing in different contexts,
without risking the tedium that would inevitably descend upon anyone who had to sit still and listen to 99 bottles of beer on the wall.
Composers have developed several ways of repeating some aspects of musical material while the very others.
In heavy duty intellectual hands, this can get pretty arcane.
A lot of music written in the 20th century follows the principle of so-called 12-tone composition, in which a whole piece is based on a single ordering of the 12 pitches of the octave.
This 12-tone row is constantly repeated, but often backwards, upside down, vertically, different rhythms, you name it, to a point where, in most such pieces, even a trained musician cannot follow the progress of the row.
And that's nothing new. In the 14th century, composers distinguished between color, a set of melodic pitches, and talia, a fixed rhythmic pattern.
Now, if the color and the talia have a different number of units, but you keep repeating both, they don't come out together.
Even though the color is repeating and the talia is repeating, what comes out when they're combined is constantly changing.
Let me illustrate by using two of the biggest hits of the last two millennia, Dies Irae and Shave in a Haircut.
As our color, we'll use the first eight pitches of Dies Irae.
Our talia, however, has only seven notes.
Now, if you keep feeding those eight pitches to that seven-note rhythm, here's what you get.
And I had to write this out. I wasn't sure I could really keep track of it in my head.
And I wouldn't want to, you know, mess up the color or the talia right here on the air with everybody listening.
Boy, that would be the worst. Angry letters, membership cancellations.
Anyway, here's how it works out.
And here's how it works out.
You have to go through the rhythm eight times to make it come out even with the pitches.
Okay, here's a motet by the middle-aged composer. Well, actually, I don't know how old he was, but he lived in the middle ages.
Philippe de Vitry. The two top voices are free, but the bottom voice, which is doubled by an instrument,
is singing a line that is based on a 12-note talia and a color, as far as I can tell from the printed music, with 19 pitches.
And if you can follow that while you're listening to it for the first time, please drop a self-addressed stamped envelope to me in the mail,
and I'll send you a Ph.D. in Musicology with minors in ear training and chutzpah. Here's the motet.
The two top voices are free, but the bottom voice, which is doubled by an instrument, is singing a line that is doubled by an instrument,
and I'll send you a Ph.D. in Musicology with minors in ear training and chutzpah.
The two top voices are free, but the bottom voice, which is doubled by an instrument, is singing a line that is doubled by an instrument,
and I'll send you a Ph.D. in Musicology with minors in ear training and chutzpah.
And I'll send you a Ph.D. in Musicology with minors in ear training and chutzpah.
The motet in Garret Gallus, which is Latin for the Frenchman in the apartment on the top floor, by Philippe de Vitry,
performed by members of the Early Music Studio in Munich under the direction of Thomas Brinkley.
Talia by Shire, color by Eastman Kodak.
The term applied to the talia in a situation like that is isorhythmic.
The prefix iso means, well, you weather buffs know that an isobar is a place you can go and get a drink when it's really cold outside.
But there's no reason that the term isorhythmic has to be restricted to discussions of medieval music.
As far as I'm concerned, it can be used any time the rhythm stays the same, but the contour of the pitches varies.
Here's an isorhythmic melody. I'll clap out the talia first, and I'll do it twice, otherwise you don't know how long the last note is.
Orhythmic melody.
Beethoven's Seventh Symphony, Roger Norrington and the London Classical Players.
Here's another beautiful example of an isorhythmic melody.
There are a couple of slight variations, but basically the same seven-note rhythm is used for this entire one-and-a-half-minute melody.
I'll clap out the talia first.
Here's an isorhythmic melody.
Here's another beautiful example of an isorhythmic melody.
The Grumio Trio, playing a theme from Mozart's Divertamento in E-flat, K.563 for string trio.
The Talia of an Isorhythmic Theme. And you know, by the way, I should mention, I don't want you folks, you know, getting into trouble on your music exams because of me.
Some of these terms are not usually applied to post-Renaissance music. But I figure, as the monks used to say, quo d'inferno. What the heck?
As I was saying, the talia or rhythmic pattern of an isorhythmic melody is not necessarily unique to that melody.
Another well-known isorhythmic theme uses exactly the same talia as that Mozart melody.
Here, I'm going to swing around here. Okay, let me check out the authentic instrument here. I've got it set on good piano.
Okay, now, let me clap out the rhythm. It's exactly the same as it was for the Mozart.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star How I wonder what you are Way up in the sky so blue I don't know the lyrics to This little song, no siree And now we know our ABC
You know, there's certain songs like the Star-Spangled Banner and Auld Lang Syne that everybody thinks they know the words to until they actually try to sing it.
Well, let me swing back to Control Central here.
Okay, I was just thinking that the slow movement of Haydn's Surprise Symphony starts out with the same pattern.
But it doesn't stick to that pattern throughout the theme.
You know, I needn't have bothered to work out a piano accompaniment to Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.
I mean, not that it was any big deal, but it just occurred to me that Brahms already wrote one.
I could sing that puppy to an orchestral accompaniment. I think I have it here, too.
I'm not using it on this show, but I had it for some stuff I'm getting ready here. Yep, here it is.
Let me get this thing in here. Okay, let's do Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star again.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are.
Just fooling around there, I couldn't resist. How often do I get to sing nursery rhymes with a symphony orchestra?
Okay, back to business. Now, I'd like to make a few distinctions here.
The term isorhythmic is not productively employed to describe situations in which a phrase or a pair of phrases simply repeats.
Do the honk-a-bock, do the honk-a-bock, do the honk-a-bock, do the honk-a-bock, do the honk-a-bock, do the honk-a-bock, do the honk-a-bock.
I'm not very good on lyrics, you know. That's just simple repetition, period. Both pitches and rhythm.
As a matter of fact, that is one of the simplest repetitions I've ever heard.
Nor is it useful to use isorhythmic to describe this.
Do a deer, a female deer, ray a drop of golden sun, me a name I call myself, fa a long, long way to run.
See, in that case, the contour of the second pair of phrases is exactly the same as that of the first pair.
The second pair simply starts on a higher note. That's called a sequence, and we'll talk more about that later.
Isorhythmic really means that the rhythm repeats while not only the actual pitches but also the shape of the phrases change.
There was a song that was popular when I was a kid, when I was in sixth grade.
I'm sure I won't remember all the words, but it goes, give me five minutes more, only five minutes more.
Give me five minutes more in your arms.
Give me five minutes more of your charms.
Now, for that, the talia was simply this.
That whole melody is based on that rhythm.
Now, I sang that very straight to emphasize the basic isorhythmic structure of the tune, and it's probably noted that way on the sheet music, too.
But a pop singer would feel free to vary the rhythm somewhat in performance.
Give me five minutes more, only five minutes more.
Give me five minutes more in your arms, or whatever the words are.
Here's a beautiful song that is mostly isorhythmic, with ten notes in each of its six phrases.
But there's a slight variation in the third phrase, one note instead of two.
And then the fifth phrase just opens up. It makes a couple of the notes even longer.
It's a beautifully expansive touch.
O come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lowly exile here,
Until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel,
Is come to thee, O Israel.
An angelically beautiful song, sung by an extremely earthbound singer named Peter Shickley, who is also, as it turns out, host of Shickley Mix, from PRI, Public Radio International.
Today's show is called, And Now for Something Not Really So Very Different at All.
We're talking about techniques that simultaneously employ repetition and change, and isorhythm is one of them.
But composers, of course, are not out to illustrate descriptive terms. They're out to move us with their music.
They use the techniques we're discussing, but they don't feel it necessary to use them consistently.
Here's a suite of three pieces that use isorhythmic phrases to varying degrees.
The rhythms of the phrases in the first selection are very similar, but not identical.
If they were, maybe the poor musicians who, as good as they are, are hanging on for dear life,
maybe they would have been able to stay together, even with the very little rehearsal I suspect they had.
The middle excerpt is consistent, except at the end of each section.
And the third number uses one slightly varied pattern in the body of the verses, but the ending refrain breaks the pattern.
And remember, we're only talking about the melody here, not the accompaniment.
The more-or-less isorhythmic suite lasts about seven minutes. I'll see you then.
The more-or-less isorhythmic suite lasts about seven minutes.
["Pomp and Circumstance"]
["The Cash Song"]
The more-or-less isorhythmic suite began with Miles Davis, the Porgy and Bess album, and that was gone.
And of course, only the main part of the tune is more or less isorhythmic.
When it gets to the improvising and the sort of other part of the tune there, that's completely different.
Then the second number was one of the variations from the sixth movement of Mozart's Serenade No. 10,
also called the Gran Partita, for 13 wind instruments.
That was the Sabine Meyer wind ensemble.
And then finally the coasters with Yakety Yak.
Now let's talk about sex.
No, I mean, let's talk about sequences.
Sequences are not what sexy nightclub singers have on their gowns.
No, in modern musical parlance, sequences occur when both the rhythm and the shape of the phrase are repeated,
but each phrase starts on a different note.
Listen to the bass instruments here.
The contour of the phrases remains exactly the same, but each time the phrases start on a lower degree of the scale.
.
Mozart No. 38, MacHarris and the Prague Chamber Orchestra again.
Here's a sequence that I'll bet many of you have played.
.
Now that sequence was just in the right hand.
It too moved down a step each time.
This one involves both hands, and once again, each measure is a step lower than the previous one.
.
Okay, now let's hear the whole brief section.
The first two phrases are virtually isorhythmic.
Then we have that first sequence and a transition involving very little repetition.
The second theme begins with a simple straightforward repetition.
Then comes the second sequence and a little coda with a one-bar repeat.
Got that?
Take it away, Walt.
.
Walter Gieseking, playing the first section of Mozart's Piano Sonata in C.K. 545.
A lovely little work, in spite of the fact that to many kids it's the musical equivalent of spinach.
Which brings us to what is perhaps the most outrageous, the most egregious sequence of all time.
One whole minute spent on four notes.
.
The favorite passage of pathologically obsessive people around the world.
It's from Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture, and we heard Placido Domingo conducting the Philharmonia.
And here's another classic example of sequencing.
Just as in the two Mozart pieces, each phrase in this aria is a step lower than the previous one.
.
But wait a minute, wait a minute, hold it, hold it, hold it, hold it, that's not all, wait a minute.
This piece, this piece has sequencing within sequencing.
Not only are the second and third phrases sequences of the first phrase, but the second group of three phrases is a sequence of the first group.
The second group is exactly the same as the first group, but a step higher.
Isn't that something?
.
Now, the next one, the third phrase group, is not a sequence, but it is pretty darn isorhythmic.
Now, do you respect this song?
.
Frank Sinatra, singing Strangers in the Night.
That song has the least modulating modulation in it I've ever heard.
It just stops and then starts again, one key higher.
It's also one of the most isorhythmically repetitious songs of all time, which is undoubtedly why some people love it and others hate it with such undying passion.
Oh, hey, hey, no way, that's for me to know and you to find out.
No, sir, people feel very strongly about that song.
Name and serial number, that's all you get from me.
Peter Shickley, Shickley Mix from PRI, Public Radio International.
And now for something not really so very different at all is the name of today's show, Nifty Ways to Combine Repetition and Variation.
One of the niftiest is a very 20th century idea that nevertheless harkens back to that uneven color and talia thing we began today's show with.
This is where you take a short repeated figure called an ostinato and combine it with another short repeated figure of a different length.
Now, any radio program could throw on a CD of Bartok or Stravinsky at this point, illustrating the technique of overlapping ostinato.
But only on Shickley Mix can you have a piece composed especially for you.
This will be a world premiere, folks.
I've got the authentic instrument set up for recording directly into the sampling system here.
I don't even have to turn around. I'm just going to play one line at a time.
Okay, now first I'm going to lay down a three note repeating figure. Here we go.
You know, I don't even have to worry about being quiet because it's going on directly into the sampler.
It doesn't even involve the microphone. I can play this in my sleep.
Okay, now I'm going to, let me get this thing set for the top again.
Now I'm going to add at the same speed a figure with four notes in it.
Oh, I'm afraid you can't hear it while I'm adding it in. I can in my earphones, but sorry about that.
Okay, moving right along, ladies and gentlemen. For your listening pleasure, I will now add a figure with five notes in it.
And here we go.
I worked this out while I was taking my shower this morning, so you and I will both be hearing it for the first time together.
Okay, now I think I'll add a one note part, half as fast, just to define the beat. And we're off.
You know, we've got groups of three, four and five notes going already. This pulse will organize them into beats.
Must be pretty boring for you.
Okay, now, let's hear what we've got so far. In addition to the pulse, we've got a three note figure, a four note figure, and a five note figure going.
Which means that even though those very short ostinati are repeating relentlessly, the whole thing, the way they combine, only repeats every sixty notes.
Here it is. Unless you're driving, close your eyes.
That's nice. Not bad. But I think I'd like to not only have a beat, but organize the beats into measures.
I'll add one more line here, which will put the piece into three, four time. Like this.
Actually, actually, wait a minute. You know, I can let you hear the whole thing while I add a part. I forgot about this button here, which will feed it into the console before...
Okay, here we go. Here's the... what should we name this thing? Let's call it the Dream of Overlapping Ostinati Waltz.
Now, I have to admit that I'm a sucker for that kind of texture. At least up to a point I can really trance out on it.
But if it's a bit too repetitious for your taste, well, there's another great use for this kind of thing.
We can make our whole little piece an accompaniment for a song. We can add a vocal line that is completely independent, that has nothing to do with Ostinati.
Let me get the mic going in here, and might as well get ready to add some echo.
Okay, folks, here it is. The absolutely latest version of one of the world's most beloved songs.
And remember, you heard it first on Shickly Mix.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are. How I wonder what you are. How I wonder what you are.
There you have it, folks. The world premiere of the Twinkling Star Dream of Overlapping Ostinati Waltz.
Exclusive on Shickly Mix. What a scoop.
Well, folks, our last suite is a bit of an antidote to the systematic systems of partial repetition we've been looking at.
Here are three pieces that are either unusually non-repetitive compared to other examples of their genres, or repetitive in very irregular, hard to predict ways.
In either case, you don't know what to expect.
The first piece is by Mozart, and as you listen, think back to the beginning of that 11th symphony, in which every four bars was repeated.
Here there is repeated material, but you're never sure when it's going to happen.
The second number is a song you've probably heard a million times.
But listen to how sprawling the melody is, how little repetition there is in the first 16 bars.
Even the lyrics are unusual, formally. There are rhymes, but they don't come where you expect at regular places.
Then we'll go out on the third piece, which is a hoot and a half.
Lots of repetition, but so irregular that you're always on your toes.
Okay, here's the Expect the Unexpected Suite.
Okay, here we go.
Here we go.
The lonely night
Dreaming of a song
The melody
Haunts my reverie
And I am once again with you
When our love was new
And each kiss an inspiration
But that was long ago
And now my consolation
Is in the stardust of a song
Beside a garden wall
When the stars are bright
You are in my arms
The nightingale
Tells his fairy tale
Of paradise where roses grew
Though I dream in vain
In my heart
It will remain
My stardust melody
The memory of love's refrain
Oh, I dream in vain
In my heart
It always will remain
My stardust melody
The memory of love's refrain
My stardust melody
The memory of love's refrain
My stardust melody
The memory of love's refrain
My stardust melody
The memory of love's refrain
My stardust melody
The memory of love's refrain
My stardust melody
The expect, the unexpected suite began with the first movement
of Mozart's Divertimento K136, that was the Academy of St. Martin
in the Fields chamber ensemble.
Then we heard Joe Stafford singing Hoagy Carmichael's Stardust,
and what we're hearing right now is Short Ride in a Fast Machine
by John Adams being played by the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra
under the direction of Simon Rattle.
And that's Sickly Mix for this week.
Our program is made possible with funds provided
by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting,
by the National Endowment for the Arts,
and by this radio station and its members.
Thank you, members.
Our program is distributed by PRI, Public Radio International.
We'll tell you in a moment how you can get an official playlist
of all the music on today's program with album numbers and everything.
Just refer to the program number.
This is program number 115.
And this is Peter Shickley saying goodbye
and reminding you that it don't mean a thing
if it ain't got that certain je ne sais quoi.
You're looking good.
See you next week.
Thank you.
If you'd like a copy of that playlist I mentioned,
send a stamped self-addressed envelope to Shickley Mix.
PRI, Public Radio International.