portions by a metronome; and, last but not least, one can begin by transcribing the simpler passages, and gradually get accustomed to the foreign musical diction, compare one part of the record with any other, interrupt the work when tired and come back to it with renewed strength-and all this in the peaceful atmosphere of a study. Even so, a great amount of practice and constant revision are required to avoid mistaking what has really been sung or played for intervals and rhythms prevailing in our own music. Talented and conscientious hearers can, indeed, succeed in noting down music without the help of the phonograph (we have examples of this from older periods), but what difficulties do they not have to surmount? A native singer who is intelligent enough to understand what one is aiming at may be willing to repeat a tune over and over again. But although he may have the best of intentions he will, in most cases, be unable to repeat it without varying it in some way or other; and even less will he be able to recite separate passages without losing the thread which connects them. A good way of becoming familiar with foreign musical expression is to learn the melodies oneself vocally or on an instrument. But it is never possible to be certain of having reproduced them correctly, even when a native instructor has declared himself satisfied, for either he may be very polite or merely tired of teaching. To grasp a dance tune during the turmoil of a performance will be still more difficult and generally impossible. The reconstruction of music from memory, with the help perhaps of stray notes, has also been undertaken; we have glaring examples of the degree to which melodies have been transformed and disfigured by this process.1 Phonograms alone therefore offer reliable material. No musical talent, no special instruction, no technical skill, and but very little effort is required to obtain the records. They are required by the person who works them out (who, of course, need not be the collector himself). The transcriptions can be revised at any time as it is possible to save the records permanently from destruction by an electrotype process and to obtain any number of copies desired. I 2 1 C. Stumpf, Anfänge der Musik, Leipzig, 1911, S. 69 ff. ''Phonogr. Methoden', Abderhaldens Handb. d. biolog. Arbeitsmethoden, 1923. D II. GENERAL CHARACTER OF NON-EUROPEAN MUSIC. MELODY VERSUS HARMONY The opportunities of hearing the music of different nations side by side and of comparing them, provided by the existing collections of phonograms, have suddenly immensely widened and deepened our knowledge. Many prejudices had to be overcome. In the first place, of course, the general distinctions between native and European music became evident. The main difference is this: our music (since about A.D. 1600) is built on harmony, all other music on pure melody. In fact it is non-European music which has made us remember what pure melody really is. The consonance of thirds and triads, the stereotyped cadence, the contrast between major and minor-mostly held to be identical with the contrast between cheerful and mournful -the exact intonation of certain intervals called for by harmony and necessitated by instruments with fixed tuning-all this has grown upon us so much that we are inclined to think of it as the natural basis of all music. But pure melody-unlike ours-is not conceived harmonically; and as long as we cannot divest ourselves of the idea— so natural to our way of thinking-that it is based on harmony and interpret it in this sense, we arbitrarily change its meaning and cannot arrive at a proper understanding of it. In purely melodic songs certain natural traits have maintained themselves which in our harmonic music have been superimposed upon or supplanted by other traits. They are 'natural', i.e. rooted in the psycho-physical constitution of man, and can therefore be found all over the world. The natural motion of melody is downward; like breathing or striking, from tension to rest. Typically melodic steps are comparatively small, amounting, at most, to a major third or so. But within this group of small intervals no distinctions are made: a 'third' is not different in its function from a 'second', and the width of an interval can vary time after time within wide margins. What we call 'out of tune' entirely loses its sense here, for there is no v norm and consequently no deviation from a norm. Nor can we, with regard to vocal melody, speak of 'scale', this term implying a suc cession of fixed degrees. The singer does not possess in his mind a store of notes or intervals from which he selects and combines those which may please his ear. What he really aims at more or less consciously is melody forming an undivided unity which he performs at one stroke as an athlete does an exercise. This melodic unity determines the parts which we afterwards dissect in the course of our analysis. Recent experimental investigations have shown how, and in what way, the size of intervals in unaccompanied song depends, even with our singers on the 'form' (Gestalt) of a melody: 2 owing to natural (psycho-physical) agents a wide leap overshoots its mark, the step to the centre of gravity from the leading note is narrowed down; intervals grow wider when a melody descends from high to low notes; steps following each other in one direction tend to become equal in size, an inserted note divides intervals of any size in certain simple (interval) proportions. It should be noticed that all these principles pay no attention to the consonance, but to the distance between notes (the size of steps)3 which is the more primitive and more important element in melody rather in the same way that in pictures the relative degrees of light are more important than those of colour. This point—which cannot be too much emphasized— constitutes a chief distinction between purely melodic and harmonic music. We cannot comprehend pure melody really and adequately unless we keep this in mind, and disregard the harmonic relations which we are disposed to hear (just as a painter disregards colour in favour of values). On the other hand, pure melody does contain elements related probably to those which, in our music, have contributed to form harmony. Certain tones can be said to 'fit together' more than others. This mutual relation makes them sound 'consonant' when they are struck simultaneously; and it is likely that the same kind of relation is also felt in succession. But as the relation in this case is certainly 1 B. F. Gilman, Journ. of Amer. Archaeol., v, 1908; Jahrb. d. Musikbibl. Peters, 19, 1913. * O. Abraham, Psycholog. Forschung, 4, 1, 1923; Handb. d. Physik, hrsg. v. Geiger u. Scheel, Bd. 8, Kap. 9. 3 O. Abraham u. E. M. v. Hornbostel, Ztschr. f. Psychol., 98, 233, 1925. • Handbuch d. Physiol., hrsg. v. Bethe u. a., Bd. II, 714, 1926. II. GENERAL CHARACTER OF NON-EUROPEAN MUSIC. MELODY VERSUS HARMONY The opportunities of hearing the music of different nations side by side and of comparing them, provided by the existing collections of phonograms, have suddenly immensely widened and deepened our knowledge. Many prejudices had to be overcome. In the first place, of course, the general distinctions between native and European music became evident. The main difference is this: our music (since about A.D. 1600) is built on harmony, all other music on pure melody. In fact it is non-European music which has made us remember what pure melody really is. The consonance of thirds and triads, the stereotyped cadence, the contrast between major and minor-mostly held to be identical with the contrast between cheerful and mournful -the exact intonation of certain intervals called for by harmony and necessitated by instruments with fixed tuning-all this has grown upon us so much that we are inclined to think of it as the natural basis of all music. But pure melody-unlike ours-is not conceived harmonically; and as long as we cannot divest ourselves of the idea— so natural to our way of thinking-that it is based on harmony and interpret it in this sense, we arbitrarily change its meaning and cannot arrive at a proper understanding of it. In purely melodic songs certain natural traits have maintained themselves which in our harmonic music have been superimposed upon or supplanted by other traits. They are 'natural', i.e. rooted in the psycho-physical constitution of man, and can therefore be found all over the world. The natural motion of melody is downward; like breathing or striking, from tension to rest. Typically melodic steps are comparatively small, amounting, at most, to a major third or so. But within this group of small intervals no distinctions are made: a 'third' is not different in its function from a 'second', and the width of an interval can vary time after time within wide margins. What we call 'out of tune' entirely loses its sense here, for there is no norm and consequently no deviation from a norm. Nor can we, with regard to vocal melody, speak of 'scale', this term implying a suc cession of fixed degrees. The singer does not possess in his mind a store of notes or intervals from which he selects and combines those which may please his ear. What he really aims at more or less consciously is melody forming an undivided unity which he performs at one stroke as an athlete does an exercise. This melodic unity determines the parts which we afterwards dissect in the course of our analysis. Recent experimental investigations have shown how, and in what way, the size of intervals in unaccompanied song depends, even with our singers on the 'form' (Gestalt) of a melody: 2 owing to natural (psycho-physical) agents a wide leap overshoots its mark, the step to the centre of gravity from the leading note is narrowed down; intervals grow wider when a melody descends from high to low notes; steps following each other in one direction tend to become equal in size, an inserted note divides intervals of any size in certain simple (interval) proportions. It should be noticed that all these principles pay no attention to the consonance, but to the distance between notes (the size of steps) 3 which is the more primitive and more important element in melody rather in the same way that in pictures the relative degrees of light are more important than those of colour. This point-which cannot be too much emphasized— constitutes a chief distinction between purely melodic and harmonic music. We cannot comprehend pure melody really and adequately unless we keep this in mind, and disregard the harmonic relations which we are disposed to hear (just as a painter disregards colour in favour of values). On the other hand, pure melody does contain elements related probably to those which, in our music, have contributed to form harmony. Certain tones can be said to 'fit together' more than others. This mutual relation makes them sound 'consonant' when they are struck simultaneously; and it is likely that the same kind of relation is also felt in succession. But as the relation in this case is certainly 1 B. F. Gilman, Journ. of Amer. Archaeol., v, 1908; Jahrb. d. Musikbibl. Peters, 19, 1913. 2O. Abraham, Psycholog. Forschung, 4, 1, 1923; Handb. d. Physik, hrsg. v. Geiger u. Scheel, Bd. 8, Kap. 9. 3 O. Abraham u. E. M. v. Hornbostel, Ztschr. f. Psychol., 98, 233, 1925. 4 Handbuch d. Physiol., hrsg. v. Bethe u. a., Bd. II, 714, 1926. |