DocArtes
In 2005 I started my doctoral studies through the DocArtes programme, a collaborative effort between Leiden University, the Conservatory of Amsterdam, the Royal Conservatory in The Hague and the Orpheus Instituut, Gent. My co-advisors are Dr. Frans de Ruiter (artistic advisor) and Professor Rebecca Harris-Warrick (academic advisor), my tutor is Javier Lopez Pinon. My research proposal is as follows:
Research Portfolio Docartes Jed Wentz
1. title and subject: Flexibility of Tempo and the Expression of Emotion in French Baroque Music (working title)
2. type of study: practice-based research
The topic of my study, freedom of tempo as an expressive device in French music of the later 17th and 18th centuries (referred to hereafter as the 'extended 18th-century', ca. 1660-1789), can only properly be approached in a multi-disciplinary fashion: according to French writers on musical performance of the period, the richness of the harmony (see, for example, Rameau, Code de la Musique, Paris, 1760, pg. 170, Rousseau, Dictionnaire de musique, Paris, 1768, article: chronomètre), the content of a vocal text and richness of the ornamentation (see de Bacilly, L'art de bien chanter, Paris, 1679, pgs. 107-108) and the acting and expressive gestures of the singer (see de Grimarest, Traité du récitatif dans la lecture, dans l'oration publique, dans la déclamation, et dans le chant, nouvelle edition, Rotterdam, 1707, pg. 121) could all serve as an impetus to changing the musical tempo, either by speeding it up or slowing it down, depending on the intended affect. I shall therefore only be able to draw conclusions from my research if I have an adequate grasp not only of the science of music, but also of the laws of rhetoric and the principles of Baroque acting and dance. This multi-disciplinary aspect to my study recommends itself to a practice-based research project, one which includes experimental work with dancers and singers (for example, in order to discover what influence expressive gestures can have on the mouvement of instrumental and vocal music such as a danced chaconne or a scene from a French cantata). This experimental phase will then be superseded by one of public performance, in which my hypotheses will be put to the test (one could, for example, perform the same work in two different ways, one strict and the other free). A final phase of the work will be to see how the gained insights into timing and expression work in a production in which authentic gesture and dance play no role: can the conductor keep the "free" style meaningful without the influence of the gestures and dances themselves? Thus as flutist, ensemble leader and conductor I would busy myself with the influence my research could have in the fields of music, dance and theatre.
3. aim of the study, research questions and hypotheses: My main hypothesis is that certain types of French instrumental and theatrical music were composed expressly to be performed with an extreme freedom of tempo, and that the intensity of the harmony, the ornamentation and the time needed for Baroque acting styles can all determine the "stretching" or hastening of the beats. A secondary hypothesis follows from the main, namely that French music, from chamber pieces to the tragédie lyrique, loses much of its emotional power when performed in too rigid a manner.
The following quote places my argumentation within an 18th-century context:
"A chronomètre is a device which measures time. Some claim that a good device of this sort would be desirable, because it would enable one to preserve the proper tempo of an air; for the words that musicians use, such as allegro, vivace, presto, affetuoso, soavement, etc. must needs be vague, since they are not related to any generally accepted standard of quickness or slowness. That's why we see people complaining now-a-days that the tempo of some of Lully's airs has been lost. If only, they say, someone had thought to use a pendulum to determine the duration of a measure of an air, and to write at the top of these pieces, instead of the usual presto, prestissimo, andante, etc., 1, 2 or 3 seconds per measure, or 5 seconds for 1, 2, 3 or 4 measures, or m seconds for n measures, one would have avoided this inconvenience, and a thousand years hence one would have the pleasure of hearing the admirable airs of M. Rameau just as the composer performs them today.
Those who are satisfied with appearances may perhaps find theses observations solid; but not those who are connoisseurs of music.
The latter would object, against all chronometers in general, that there are perhaps not even four bars in an air which have exactly the same duration. Two things make it necessary to slow down some and to speed up others, being ornamentation and the harmony in ensemble music, and ornamentation and the implied harmony in solos. A musician who understands his art seizes the character of an air after playing only four bars and abandons himself to it. The pleasure of the harmony alone enthralls him: here he wants to bring out the chords, there he wants to hide them, which means that he sings or plays more or less slowly from one measure to another, and from one beat, even from one quarter beat to the next.
The only good chronometer possible is a skillful musician who has taste, who understands thoroughly the piece he is to perform and who knows how to beat time accordingly." (Diderot, Mémoires sur Diffèrens Sujets de Mathematique, Paris, 1748, pgs. 193-194.)
The above quote is not an isolated example; there are numerous references from the extended 18th-century to the practice of metrical freedom in performing French music (see, for example: de Grimarest, op. cit. pg 121, de la Chapelle, Les vrais principes de musique, 2e Livre, Paris, 1737, pg. 6, Rousseau Lettre sur la musique françoise, Paris, 1753, pg. 11, anonymous, Lettre écrite de l'autre monde, Paris, 1753, pg. 29, Bonneval, Apologie de la Musique Françoise, contre M. Rousseau, Paris, 1754, pg. 66, Framéry, Encyclopédie methodic, Paris, 1791, pg. 281). From intimate airs de cour to grand scenes from the tragédie lyrique, the inspiration and subjectivity of the performer are called upon to make more of the music than the notes on the page alone can imply. As de Bacilly puts it (op. cit., Paris, 1679, pg 105), the merit of much seemingly simple French music consists entirely in the "ornaments which one adds to them, and the charm of the performance, which is why one says of them they are little nothings which appear to be marvelous in the mouth of the singer". We have seen in the Diderot quoted above, and de Bacilly himself makes this clear in his text (ibid, pg. 199-200), that the charm, the je-ne-sais-quoi of a good performance, often required, indeed consisted of, flexibility of tempo on the part of the performer, even when it was not specifically indicated in the score.
The inability of music notation to accurately express all the subtleties of a proper performance, a truism of modern musicological research, was already remarked upon in the 18th century: de Grimarest used a recitative from the works of Lully to illustrate the point, writing:
"Since the composer, as I have already remarked, is often forced by the rules of his art to distort the length of the syllables, it is the skillful performer's task to make up for this by making those syllables long which ought to be long, and those short which ought to be short without paying attention to the length or shortness of the note value to which they are subjected. For example, in the scene from Atys where Zangaride sings "et vous me laisserez mourir", the "et", according to the notation of the first two syllables, would be much longer than "vous", which would be against the most basic syllable length. Thus the singer takes from the first syllable and gives it to the second in order to make his expression more correct." (de Grimarest, op.cit. pg 134-135)
While not making the complex relationship between "objective" notation and "subjective" performance the main thrust of my study, I shall certainly try to place this aspect of my work in the broader context of current argumentation on this topic.
However, the freedoms which I propose to research are greater than those mentioned by de Grimarest above, and pertain not only to rhythm, but to the meter itself. That freedom of tempo formed a starting point, a stylistic given, for French music of the grand siècle and beyond is made clear by the heated argumentation of the pamphlets published in the mid-18th century during the famous Querelle des Bouffons, particularly Rousseau's abrasive Lettre sur la musique françoise. In it, for instance, the enfant terrible in Rousseau insists that Italian composers can write music to be performed in time, but that
"...the nature of French melody forbids our composers this resource; for if the performer were forced to keep the beat he could no longer display his voice and his acting, nor could he drag out the melody and swell, stretch and scream the notes out an the top of his lungs, and as a result, he would no longer be applauded." (Rousseau, Lettre sur la musique françoise, Paris, 1753, pg. 67)
This kind of argumentation drew from the talented composer Charles-Henri de Blainville a bitter retort:
"Has it been said that our songs do not correspond exactly to the rhythm? To tell the truth, there are situations in which the singer, for the sake of gesture or ornamentation, accelerates or slows down the beat, but only those who have taste can truly appreciate them." (de Blainville, L'esprit de l'art musical, ou réflexions sur la musique et ses différentes parties, Geneva, 1754, pg. 21)
Later in the century, when controversy raged around the new-fangled music of Gluck, this Lullian (and thus "old-fashioned") French approach to musical theatre appeared unbearable to some:
"Since the music of Lulli, like that of almost all the French school, did nothing to help the actors, the actor had to help the music; that is the reason for those movements of head, arm and eyebrow, for those sluggish ports de voix, listless cadential trills, inhuman screams wrenched from the guts and accompanied by lengthy gurgling, and for all that immense heap of affectation and coquetry that the audience was good-natured enough to mistake for expression...." (Anonymous, La soirée perdue a l'opera, in Mémoires pour servir à l'histoire de la révolution opérée dans la musique par M. le Chevalier Gluck, pg 49)
Not only gesture and expressive ornamentation ("sluggish" appogiaturas, "listless" trills and "lengthy gurgling" -as well as the "inhuman" filer le son "wrenched from the guts" on notes stretched expressly for that purpose) were the causes of fluctuations of tempo; the intensity of the harmony could also require extra time be taken in order to express forcefully a musical affect. After Rousseau had re-enlivened the Querelle with his Lettre, Rameau entered the fray and came down firmly on the side of harmony against Rousseau's preferred Italian melodies:
"It is none other than the harmony, the mother of melody, which directly causes those various affects which music makes us feel: not that its accessories, melody and beat, don't contribute to it; but without the harmony these accessories would have no effect..." (Rameau, Erreurs sur la musique dans l'Encyclopédie, Paris, 1755, pg 46)
And he draws the conclusion:
"Let us go further and remark that, if one wishes to paint a moment of emotional conflict in a melody whose liveliness must correspond with a sprightly, gay or unbridled character, the effect will be lost if one does not slow down the tempo, or
if one does not at least give the note on which the expression must be felt two, three, four or more times the length demanded by the flow of the melody; one recognizes this in all those pieces which contain perceptible moments of marked feeling" (ibid, pgs. 49-50)
These quotes serve to define the perimeters and form the hypotheses of my project.
4. argumentation situating the study in the current discourse on the discipline and linking it to related research
The relationship between music and emotion is fundamental to my work; or more specifically, the ability of the performer to move his audience. How does this actually happen? What makes people experience music in an emotional way? Much of my research will be based on a premise contemporary with my topic, one which served as the extended 18th-century framework within which these questions were answered: namely, the theory of the passions as put forth in the works of Descartes. I am however aware that there is a larger, 21st-century framework for this discussion from which my topic can benefit, and to which, in some small part, it may contribute. Classic works on the subject, such as Malcom Budd's Music and the Emotions (London, 1985) or Peter Kivy's Sound Sentiment (Temple, 1989) will serve as a starting point from which I can pursue this aspect of my topic as far as it may be relevant.
Much of the material surrounding my essential premise (that French music should be performed with a freedom of tempo for expressive purposes) has already been thoroughly researched; yet the essence of what I wish to study remains virgin territory. For instance, though much research has been done about tempi in French music of the 17th an 18th centuries, little attention has been paid to the need for freedom of tempo, possibly because of a prejudice against "rubato" as a typically 19th-century expressive device. For example, one finds that a great deal was published on historical performance speeds in the 1980's and 90's during the "half-tempo" controversy, which was sparked by the works of Willem Talsma (Wiedergeburt der Klassiker, Innsbruk, 1980), Clemens von Gleich (among many others: Die Theorie des variablen Metronomgebrauchs, in: Mf 1988/1 46-49) and their sympathizers. However, neither they, nor their opponent Klaus Miehling (Das Tempo in der Musik von Barok und Vorklassik, Wilhelmshaven, 1993) have spent any significant amount of attention to the desirability of continuity of tempo within this context.
So too a great deal has been written on the Querelle des Bouffons, particularly its political context (recently, for instance, a discussion was published in T. C. W. Blanning, The Culture of Power and the Power of Culture, Oxford, 2002, pgs. 357-374) but as yet the question What can we extract from this pamphlet-war to improve our performances of French music? has remained unaddressed, indeed, even unasked.
Historical dance and gesture have largely been seen as decorative arts applied on top of a steady musical pulse, rather than as co-influential factors which could in some cases determine the length of certain beats in the score, purely for expressive purposes. Yet, here too there is scholarly work to be consulted: for instance, Regine Astier has looked at the Chaconne de Phaëton, comparing a version danced 'straight' with one full of rhetorical gestures appropriate to the context (Dance Research, XV #2, Winter 1997, pgs. 150-169). And, to give another example, a discussion of dance, gesture and tempo can be found in Raphaëlle Legrand's Chaconnes et Passacailles Dansées dans l'Opera Français; des airs de mouvement (Le Mouvement en Musique à l'Époque Baroque, Metz, 1996, pgs. 157-170).
As this brief summary makes clear, I shall have a great reservoir of scholarly material to draw upon in my study, while the core of my research remains fresh.
5. theoretical and artistic assumptions: Understanding the underlying contemporary theories of the physical basis of the passions is the key to emotionally interpreting music of the extended 18th-century.
It is clear that Descartes' theory of the passions (as put forward in his Les passions de l'âme) formed a basis for 18th-century theories of the expression of the passions through sound (music) and sight (painting, sculpture, gesture and dance). Descartes' descriptions of the physiological manifestations of the passions in the human body, notably the alterations they cause in the speed of the heartbeat and digestive system, were used by artists and musicians to explain the power of their sister arts. As far as music is concerned, the only irrefutably clear links with Les passion de l'âme are to be found in the works of the German composer Mattheson; the most useful of his remarks on the subject can be found in his preface to Veritophili and in Der Vollkommene Capellmeister. It is, however, most probable that the conservative composer and theorist Kirnberger is making a general reference to this philosophical system in his Die Kunst des reinen Satzes in der Musik (1774/6) when he advises composers to study the physical "tempo" of their emotions so that they can find an appropriate musical tempo to convey the affect of a given piece:
"The composer must not forget that every melody should be a naturalistic and realistic depiction of an emotional state or feeling...the word Gemüthsbewegung, which we Germans use meaning passion or affekt, shows that emotion is related to tempo. Indeed, each passion and each feeling, both when felt internally and expressed through speech, has its own particular movement or tempo, some swift, others slow, some violent, others moderate...I would first like to advise all aspirant composers to industriously study the nature of each individual passion, particularly in regards to the tempo of the physical reaction which accompanies it..." (for a complete discussion of this topic see Kirnberger, op. cit., Von der Bewegung, dem Takt und dem Rhthmus, pg. 105-153)
The logical, though startling, conclusion to draw from this is that if indeed each passion has a distinct tempo, which the composer must be able to distinguish before he even begins to write music, then any strong changes in affect must be reflected by changes in the tempo. Rameau corroborates this idea in the above cited quote from the Erreurs in which he advocates slowing down the tempo or radically stretching the harmony in order to allow the change in affect to become perceptible. He goes even further in his Code de la musique when he says:
"We must not forget that the expression of emotion, especially of strong emotions, has no effect without changing the beat." (see op. cit., pg 170)
It would be very satisfying for me if I could find a direct link between French compositional theory and Descartes, to compliment that which exists between Les Passions de l'âme and German writers. However, there is at any rate a clear link between Descartes and the French theatrical and visual arts: Charles Le Brun, court painter to Louis XIV, used the Passions as a basis for his Conferences, a work which was to strongly influence painters and actors well into the next century. I believe that it is possible, in the case of the tragédie lyrique, that all the artists involved, dancers, actors, singers and composer, would have shared a common, quasi-Cartesian philosophical premise about their work and how it "worked". It follows, then, that a judicious application of these philosophical principles in modern performances (whether purely musical or musical-theatrical) can not only help us to reconstruct the performances of the past, but also to re-assess the emotional impact of French music both then and now. The ultimate aim is to see if the resulting performance style can be retained, even when specific non-musical 18th-century aspects (such as historic gesture and staging) are suppressed.. Perhaps such a redefinition of the emotional-aesthetic perimeters of French music, far from alienating the audiences of today, could even engage them more thoroughly, not through the intellect so much as the heart?
6. intended research methods
Before starting any new research I would like to re-invigorate two specific skills acquired in the past, but which currently are in need of an update: harmony and the French language. In order to fully grasp the harmonic implications of my subject, including Rameau's notoriously obscure writings, I would like to take advantage of the fascinating work on harmony and basso continuo which is being done at the moment by my colleague Thérèse de Goede, thus refreshing my knowledge of Baroque harmony with the latest work being done in the area. This could be achieved by following her lectures at the Amsterdam Conservatory, as well as investing in some hours of private tuition. I will also apply myself practically by studying basso continuo, though real proficiency as an accompanist is not my goal.
In order to facilitate my contact, not so much with the sources, but rather with modern Frenchmen, I need to refresh my language skills. I had a good deal of French at university and my passive French skills are more than adequate to the task of reading and digesting the sources, but more than twenty years in Holland have done little to improve my accent or revitalize my vocabulary. Recent trips to France to work in the Bibliothèque Nationale have reminded me that fluent French opens doors in that country, and that the language of Quinault and Racine, though exalted, is not the spoken language of today. I would therefore propose to do a French course suitable to my level and goals, preferably through the University of Amsterdam.
Besides refreshing the old, new subjects will be tackled, particularly Baroque gesture and dance. I hope that by studying the treatises on gesture, as well as engravings of 18th-century French actors (and their attitudes), and by working with a specialist in the field (for example, Javier López Piñón, who works with De Nieuwe Opera Academie) I will be able to grasp the essentials of the subject. I shall then apply gestures to French vocal music, starting with pieces mentioned specifically in the sources, for instance Que l'incertitude est un rigoureux tourment from Lully's Phaëton (interpretation according to de Grimarest, op. cit pg. 135-136), Enfin il est en ma puissance from Armide (interpretation according to Rameau, Observations sur notre instinct pour la musique, Paris, 1754, pgs. 55-114) and the opening scene J'ai perdu tout mon bonheur from Rousseau's Le Devin du Village (interpretation following the many and various affects notated in the score). Jill Feldman (Koninklijk Conservatorium Den Haag), who created the title role of Charpentier's Médée in William Christie's historic revival, has also generously offered to help me at this stage, giving a performer's insight into this aspect of my study. From this point onward I will tackle larger scenes from French opera, including Cruelle Mère des Amours from Rameau's Hippolyte et Aricie. The final stage will be to see how much of the freedom of tempo associated with these baroque stagings could be retained in a performance with a modern stage director, in the Nationale Reisopera production of Hippolyte which I will conduct in 2009.
As far as Baroque dance is concerned, my approach will be twofold. A thorough study of the history of dance in the period, and the acquisition of the ability to read Baroque dance notation will prepare my intellectual examinations of the appropriate dance sources, but in order to understand how dancing, dance music (in general described by contemporaries as bien cadencé) and flexibility of tempo could work together, I will have to "feel" the steps in my body: in short, I will need to be able to dance a bit myself. Learning the rudiments of Baroque dance will take some effort, and I would propose starting lessons immediately. There are, however, teachers in Holland to whom I can address myself. Moreover, as gesture is essential to the dance master's art, these two studies would complement one another. I therefore propose to undertake them together.
For aid with the research of the written dance sources, there are several experts in the field with whom I can consult. For instance, I am in contact with Jennifer Thorp, of New College, Oxford, who has generously offered to help me. In order to learn Baroque dance notation I propose consulting Feuillet's Choréographie (1700), Pierre Rameau's Le Maître à Danser (1725) and Kellom Tomlinson's The Art of Dancing Explain'd (1724). Of course, I shall also be able to discuss notation (and the problems in interpreting it) with my Baroque dance teacher. Having mastered the written language, I will examine 18th-century dance notations themselves, comparing them to the music that accompanies them, looking for places where musically or harmonically one might wish to stretch the beat. I will then see if these places in the score coincided with steps or movements in the dance notation which one might wish to elongate for expressive purposes. I shall also work with gesture within the dance, a thorny topic in the Baroque dance community, to see what possible influence it could have on the musical performance as a whole.
And of course, more classical forms of study will be essential to my work as well: the sources will be (re)examined from de Bacilly to Framéry, and manuscripts and printed scores will be consulted. There are 18th-century scores containing written indications of flexibility of tempo, such as La Guirlande by Rameau, the 9ième suite, Deuxiéme Œuvre of Pierre Danican Philidor for traverso and bc, Les Nations by François Couperin and some of the Cantates françoises of Colin de Blamont.
The final phases of my efforts will be to put the results of this interdisciplinary study to the test in performance. Concerts of French chamber music (to see what the link to larger forms might be), cantata repertoire, and opera (Rameau) would enable me to present my findings to the public.
7. phased work plan and timetable for completion, including final presentation
2005-2006 course work (French, harmony, methodology if needed) and study of Baroque dance and gesture, all to be undertaken in Holland.
2006-2007 intensive research into manuscript sources, to be undertaken mainly in France. Written sources re-examined. Dance and gesture work continued.
2007-2008 continued study, re-reading of sources in light of dance/gesture studies. Presentation of smaller-scale concerts.
2008-2009: conducting a production Rameau's Hippolyte et Aricie for the Nationale Reisopera. These performances will not be with Baroque staging, but will allow me to test the relevance of my research for modern performances of tragédie lyrique.
Writing, presentation and defense of dissertation.
Last update: Wednesday, October 04, 2006