Once upon a time, music was music. There was no distinction between art music and popular music. Some people liked novelty and got tired of pieces after hearing them a few times. Others liked to listen over and over to discover the clever things composers did with melody, harmony, and form. But everyone pretty much listened to the same music. They really listened, too.
Not everyone listens to music these days, even though many people carry radios and iPods and what not everywhere they go. Having something on as background doesn’t count. I”m not sure watching music videos does, either.
Nowadays, I suppose, most people who actually listen to music pretty much just let the sound wash over them. They respond to the emotion or the beat, or whatever suits their fancy. Some people like various kinds of popular music. Some people like classical music. Some people even like both. For people who like classical music, they find that if they can actually hear the form of the music as they listen, it gives them a whole new level of enjoyment.
Forms in music
As you listen carefully to music, you will notice that you will hear repetitions of some of the same “licks” over and over. You will also notice that, however a piece starts out, it will eventually come to something completely different. You might notice other parts of the music that sound something like what you have heard before, but not exactly the same. In other words, you will always hear repetition and contrast. You will often hear variation.
Repetition, contrast, and variation are the basis of all musical form. The time I mentioned, when everyone enjoyed the same music in different ways, was the last half of the eighteenth century. We have come to call it the Classical Period.
If everyone listened to the same music, then clearly the composers cared about making it easy to listen to. They had a few basic patterns that they used all the time. All music has form, but we refer to these basic patterns as forms. Sonata form is the most characteristic of the period. The others, rondo, theme and variations, and minuet are all at least a couple of generations older.
The minuet was one of a number of old dance forms, the only one still common in the Classical Period. Hardly anyone still danced it, but composers usually included one in their multi-movement works. They made it a little bit longer by actually writing two minuets. Originally, the second minuet had a lighter texture–only three parts instead of four or more, so it became known as the trio.
Both parts were repeated. Dances differed from one another in their rhythm and associated steps, but not in form. All of the old dance forms were simple two-part (or binary) forms. Both parts were repeated. In other words, dance forms were very predictable for the dancers. We can call the first part A and the second one B and diagram a simple binary form like this:
||: A |: B |
Harmonically, a dance started in the home key, or tonic and modulated to a related key. In a major key, we designate the tonic as “I” and the related key is five steps higher, or “V,” also known as the dominant. In a minor key, we designate the tonic as “i” and the related key is three steps higher, or “III,” the relative major. (Capital roman numerals indicate major chords or keys; lower case roman numerals indicate minor chords or keys.)
I won’t try to diagram the key changes. Sometimes A simply ended on the tonic and B began on the dominant. Sometimes A changed keys and ended up on the dominant (or relative major). In either case, B changed keys so the entire two-part form ended on the tonic.
Minuets or other dances in major keys always modulated to the dominant. Minuets in minor keys always modulated to the relative major. Those key changes are very easy to hear–another bit of nice predictability for dancers.
Notice therefore, that the repetition and contrast are matters of harmony or key. Dance forms start in one key, move to a contrasting key, and return to the beginning key. The melodic material in A and B could be completely different. By the Classical Period, though, in practice the melody that opened A recurred at the end of B. We can call that a rounded binary and diagram it like this:
||: A |: B |
||: a |: b a |
The A section begins with a melody that we mark as “a,” but it probably starts out with a phrase that ends on the tonic and continues with another that may or may not modulate to the new key that begins the B section. The B section begins with a contrasting melody that modulates back to the tonic.
Now let’s add the trio. As I said, it is simply another rounded binary, but when it finishes, the first minuet is played again, but without repeats. It can be diagramed like this: notice that there are no colons (repeat marks) for the reprise of the minuet.
A (Minuet) B (Trio) A (Minuet)
||: a |: b a | ||: c |: d c | || a || b a ||
And here’s where things become less predictable harmonically. The trio might be in the same key as the minuet. Or it might be in the same key as the “B” section of the minuet starts in. Or it might in another key entirely, maybe even in a distant key. Such unpredictability is exactly what interested the more discerning members of the audience who wanted to listen carefully for all of the subtle, artistic touches the composer brought to bear.
Listening to minuets
If you listen to the music of Mozart, Haydn, or any of their lesser-known contemporaries whose music still occasionally appears on concerts and recordings, expect all of the joints between different parts of the form to be easy to hear. They made the end of one section and the beginning of the next very clear and obvious. That’s one reason why their music appealed to nearly everyone.
Beethoven started out writing music equally easy for audiences to detect the structure, but by the middle of his career he began to hide the joints. Romantic composers rarely placed high value on writing forms that audiences could follow easily. Not all of them even used classical forms at all. Those who did often deliberately disguised the transitions from one section to the next.
That is undoubtedly why it takes some effort for modern audiences to learn to hear formal structures that anyone who wasn’t tone deaf could notice right away during the Classical period.
Of the four forms I mentioned, the minuet and trio is the simplest for modern audiences to hear. If you want to learn to listen for form, you will find the sonata and rondo forms much easier once you learn the minuet. In fact, you can think of both of these forms, as well as the theme and variations, as ways of making simple dance forms longer and providing more opportunity for contrast and variation.
Image is in the public domain.