Rhythm in Jazz

On Phrase Rhythm in Jazz by Stefan Love

Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree Doctor of Philosophy Supervised by Professor Robert Wason Department of Music Theory Eastman School of Music University of Rochester Rochester, New York 2011

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Curriculum Vitae

Stefan Love was born in Newport, Rhode Island on April 23, 1984. He attended Brown University from 2002 to 2006, where he was awarded the Buxtehude Premium, given to exceptional music students, and the Mitch Baker award, given to noteworthy jazz pianists. He graduated Magna cum laude with a Bachelor of Arts degree in music, conferred with Honors. Upon graduation, he was admitted into the Phi Beta Kappa honors society. He began his graduate studies in music theory (MA/PhD) at the Eastman School of Music in 2007, and was awarded the Sproull Fellowship for his study there. Working with advisor Robert Wason, in 2010, he earned the Master of Arts degree in music theory.

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Acknowledgments

This project would not have been possible without the help of my committee of readers. First, I thank Bob Wason, my advisor. The concept for this dissertation emerged from an independent study I undertook with him in the fall of 2009. His steadfast encouragement and keen eye for the dissertation’s final shape guided its development. His expertise in jazz, as both a theorist and a musician, made him an invaluable resource. I also thank Davy Temperley, my second reader and phrase rhythm specialist. He immersed himself in my approach and critiqued it from within, greatly improving the final product. Finally, Dariusz Terefenko brought an unparalleled knowledge of jazz repertoire and performance practice to the project. I knew that if the dissertation resonated with him, I must be on the right track. I also thank Babe O. for her constant love and support.

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Abstract

Phrase rhythm is the interaction of grouping structure and metrical structure. In jazz improvisation, these structures behave in ways that theories of phrase rhythm designed for classical music cannot accommodate. Specifically, jazz improvisation involves the superimposition of a highly flexible grouping structure on a pre-determined and predictable metrical-harmonic scheme. In this context, theories of phrase rhythm that depend on voiceleading or harmony neglect the subtleties of grouping structure. In this dissertation, I present a new method for the analysis of jazz phrase rhythm. I classify each phrase based on its relationship to the metrical hierarchy, as manifested in two characteristics: 1) the pattern of metrical accents it overlaps (prosody), and 2) its occupation of metrical units, from one to eight measures in length. For example, a 4-phrase occupies a four-bar hypermeasure, and may be beginning-, end-, un-, or double-accented. The basic phrase-types may be combined and altered in various ways. I include detailed analyses of fifteen solos on several different forms, including AABA, ABAC, and twelve-bar blues. Throughout an improvised solo, phrase rhythm fluctuates between states of consonance and dissonance, as the grouping structure variously supports or contradicts the metrical structure. Phrase rhythm thus contributes immensely to this music’s aesthetic value.

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Table of Contents Part I: Theory Introduction: What is Jazz? What is Phrase Rhythm?

p. 1

Chapter 1: Meter and Grouping in Jazz

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Chapter 2: The Analytical Method

36

Part II: Applications Introduction to Part II

80

Chapter 3: Thirty-Two-Bar Schemes in AABA Form

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Chapter 4: Thirty-Two-Bar Schemes in ABAC Form

109

Chapter 5: The Twelve-Bar Blues

143

Chapter 6: Metrically Atypical Schemes

165

Chapter 7: Some Pedagogical and Analytical Extensions

192

Works Cited

214

Index of Recordings and Transcriptions

220

Appendix A: Glossary of Terms and Notations

222

Appendix B: Complete Transcriptions and Analyses

226

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List of Figures Introduction I–1. Parker, “Dewey Square”: Grouping structure of mm. 1–16.

p. 8

Chapter 1 1–1. A metrical grid in 4/4.

13

1–2. Metrical projection.

16

1–3. A projective hierarchy.

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1–4. Hypermetrical analysis of Haydn's Symphony no. 104/I.

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1–5. A metrical mistake.

22

1–6. Motive vs. hypermeter.

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1–7. One phrase or two?

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1–8. What are the second level groups?

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1–9. Voice-leading vs. grouping.

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Chapter 2 2–1. Segmentation factor 1: IOI.

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2–2. Segmentation factor 2: strong beat.

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2–3. Segmentation factor 4: motive.

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2–4. A formula, not a motive.

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2–5. A formula becomes a motive through repetition.

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2–6. Conflicts among grouping factors.

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2–7. The short form of prosodic notation.

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2–8. Accent borrowing.

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2–9. Effects characteristic of swing articulation of 8 th-notes.

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2–10. No borrowed accent.

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2–11. Metrical time-spans and associated phrase-types.

49

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2–12. The beginning-accented 4-phrase.

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2–13. The end-accented 4-phrase.

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2–14. Not a 4-phrase.

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2–15. Where to place 4-phrase brackets: solid v. dotted.

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2–16. Some un-accented 4-phrases.

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2–17. The double-accented 4-phrase.

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2–18. Comparison of 4-phrase types.

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2–19. The 2-phrase.

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2–20. Where to place 2-phrase brackets: solid v. dotted.

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2–21. Asymmetrical 2-phrase division.

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2–22. A challenging case.

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2–23. The 1-phrase.

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2–24. Sentence-structure, 1/1/2.

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2–25. No overlapped downbeats.

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2–26. The beginning-accented 8-phrase.

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2–27. An 8-phrase made from four 2-phrases

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2–28. Davis, “Oleo,” mm. 1–32.

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2–29. A prefix.

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2–30. Phrase overlap.

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2–31. Grouping structure in a phrase overlap.

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2–32. A 2+4 combined phrase.

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2–33. Grouping structure, figure 2–34.

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2–34. Rhyme.

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2–35. A common source of ambiguity.

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2–36. Combination or end-accentuation?

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2–37. End-accentuation that resembles combination.

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2–38. Ambiguous phrase rhythm.

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2–39. Phrase division without pause.

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Chapter 3 3–1. An idealized AABA form.

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3–2 through 3–6. Davis, “Oleo”

87–90

3–7, 3–8. Parker, “Moose the Mooche.”

92–93

3–9 through 3–12. Parker, “Yardbird Suite.”

96–99

3–13, 3–14. Parker, “Dewey Square.”

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3–15 through 3–19. Powell, “Wail.”

101–107

Chapter 4 4–1. “Pennies From Heaven” (Johnston): Metrical-harmonic scheme.

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4–2 through 4–12. Getz, “Pennies From Heaven.”

112–122

4–13. “Ornithology” (Parker): Metrical-harmonic scheme.

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4–14 through 4–25. Parker, “Ornithology.”

124–131

4–26 through 4–35. Evans, “My Romance.”

133–141

Chapter 5 5–1. Metrical-harmonic scheme of twelve-bar blues in C.

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5–2 through 5–6. Parker, “Chi Chi.”

146–148

5–7. 6/6 chorus-level phrase rhythm.

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5–8, 5–9. Parker, “Chi Chi.”

150–151

5–10 through 5–14. Adderley, “Freddie Freeloader.”

153–157

5–15 through 5–20. Rollins, “Tenor Madness.”

159–163

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Chapter 6 6–1. “Airegin” (Rollins): Metrical-harmonic scheme.

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6–2 through 6–9. Rollins, “Airegin.”

168–174

6–10. Midpoint of “The Touch of Your Lips” (Noble)

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6–11. Recomposition of “Airegin,” section B.

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6–12. Rollins, “Airegin.”

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6–13. “Witchcraft” (Coleman): Metrical-harmonic scheme.

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6–14 through 6–20. Evans, “Witchcraft.”

180–184

6–21. “I’ll Remember April” (Johnston): Metrical-harmonic scheme.

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6–22 through 6–25. Brown, “I’ll Remember April.”

186–191

Chapter 7 7–1. Eight graduated exercises for practicing phrase rhythm.

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7–2. The pedagogical program.

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7–3. Exercise 1: 2-phrases.

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7–4. Exercise 2: 1-phrases.

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7–5. 4-phrases, switching types at every phrase.

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7–6. A twelve-measure phrase plan, repeated cyclically.

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7–7. A sentence structure, to introduce the 8-phrase level (exercise 5). 201 7–8. Phrase overlap, in 2/2O2/2 structure (exercise 6).

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7–9. Phrase combination, in 2/2+2/2 structure (exercise 7).

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7–10. Imitation of noteworthy solos (exercise 8).

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7–11. Tactus shifting.

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7–12 through 7–16. Coltrane, “My Favorite Things.”

208–212

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A Note on the Transcriptions and Recordings

Excerpts from transcribed jazz performances appear throughout this dissertation. Many of these are based on published sources, while I transcribed several others myself. Rather than cite these sources throughout the text, I provide a complete “Index of Recordings and Transcriptions” on page 221. Each recording/transcription pair has a unique number. In the caption of all musical excerpts, a recording/transcription index number appears in curly brackets (e.g., {14}). I edited the published sources for accuracy and readability, typeset them with four measures per line, and, when necessary, transposed them to concert pitch. I omitted many ornaments—grace notes, “scoops” into notes, and so forth—as these had no affect on my analyses. I advise the reader to consult the recordings if possible: these are the only authoritative sources for this music. For simplicity, I depart from conventional lead-sheet harmonic notation in two ways: 1) I do not list chordal extensions beyond the chordal seventh; 2) for tonic-function harmonies, I list only the root: “C” replaces “Cmaj7”, “C6/9”, and so forth; “C-” replaces “C-maj7”, “C-6”, and so forth.

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PART I: THEORY Introduction: What is Jazz? What is Phrase Rhythm? What is Jazz? Since its origins in the early 20th century, the term “jazz” has been applied to an incredible range of music. No definition could capture the myriad uses of the term, nor satisfy all of jazz’s devotees. I focus on a significant subset of jazz, roughly coextensive with bebop and its close descendants. This style predominated in the ‘40s and ‘50s, and centered on small ensembles and improvised solos. In this dissertation, “jazz” refers to this subset only. The characteristics enumerated in this section limit my theory’s domain: any music that does not possess these characteristics is not within my purview. An important and distinctive aspect of jazz is its formal structure. The form of the jazz performance has been compared to a “theme and variations,” with the themes drawn from a collection of well-known pieces or “standards.” Paul Berliner (1994) describes the typical performance: “It has become the convention for musicians to perform the melody and its accompaniment at the opening and closing of a piece’s performance. In between, they take turns improvising solos within the piece’s cyclical rhythmic form” (63). The repetitions of the theme, or choruses, follow one another without pause. Frank Tirro (1967) explicitly compares this procedure to continuous variation in classical music: after the opening chorus, musicians maintain the “structure of the piece…in chaconne fashion” during the middle choruses (317). Similarly, Steve Larson (1993) says that both “modern jazz variations” and “classical variation sets” are “based on…the ‘structure’ of a theme,” which has “rhythmic, harmonic, melodic, and contrapuntal aspects. Variations may preserve any of these aspects at any level” (300). I understand jazz variation procedure to consist of two elements: a scheme and a realization. (“Scheme” is my word for Larson’s and Tirro’s “structure.”) The scheme outlines the elements of a single chorus. In isolation, it is an abstract entity, existing most vividly in the mind of the

Introduction: What is Jazz? What is Phrase Rhythm?

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player or listener. (In geometry, the “perfect circle” is also such an entity.) The realization is one concrete performance of the scheme. The arrangement of a jazz performance comprises the discrete parts of the realization and their ordering. I use the following terms for the parts of a typical arrangement: 1. The opening theme: one cycle of the scheme, including the composed melody (if present); 2. The variations: a number of choruses that adhere less closely to the scheme: the schematic melody may be varied or ignored and the schematic harmony may be altered slightly, but the highest levels of the meter will be strictly maintained; 3. The closing theme: A closing cycle of the scheme, including the composed melody. Arrangements sometimes include an introduction, coda, or interludes between choruses. These sections make themselves known through texture and harmony, and are easily distinguished from the familiar portions of the scheme.1

The Scheme and Realization in Jazz

In the words of Charles Mingus, “You can’t improvise on nothin’…you gotta improvise on somethin’.”2 The scheme is the “something” on which one improvises. It is a sequence of harmonies occupying a fixed number of measures, which often includes a melody. The most familiar depiction of the scheme is a lead sheet, showing a melody and chord symbols within a metrical framework. In this section, I discuss the nature of the jazz scheme and its relationship with the realization. Many schemes are from a repertory known informally as the “Great American Songbook,” a collection of popular songs written for the stage, screen, or home from roughly 1920 to 1960. This collection has been the subject of at least two detailed theoretical studies (Forte 1995, Terefenko 2004). While a scheme can be made concrete through notation (a lead sheet or original score) and performance, in the absence of these, a scheme is best understood as a

These elements—introduction, coda, etc.—can themselves become schematic through repetition in multiple performances. Consider, for example, the introduction to “Take the A Train” (Strayhorn), which has become an expected part of the performance. 2 Quoted in Kernfeld 1995 (119). 1


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mental representation of abstract features like meter and voice-leading. A listener or performer arrives at an understanding of the scheme through the experience of many different realizations. Knowledge of the scheme generates expectations and provides a basis for comparison. Each realization is measured against the scheme while simultaneously modifying it. As Henry Martin describes it, the scheme provides an anchor for musical expression: “Since the progression of the changes can be easily internalized, and the symmetry and regularity of the strophes [choruses] ‘felt’ without too much conscious attention, the player can focus on developing the melodic and expressive essence of a solo with these ‘built-in’ features taken for granted” (1996: 13). The scheme is what the player has “internalized,” the “built-in” features. The interaction between scheme and realization is jazz’s defining feature. (Arguably, it is the defining feature of all variation procedure.) The focus of this dissertation is the interaction between the schematic meter, which is rigidly maintained, and the realization’s flexible phrase structure. While realization often entails improvisation, I downplay this feature, because the process of analysis works in the same way, regardless of whether the realization is improvised or entirely composed in advance.3 The opening theme, the first instantiation of the scheme in a particular performance, can establish certain modifications that are retained in subsequent choruses. These can include reharmonization or metric modulation at fixed points in the scheme—for example, the bridge of each chorus might be in 3/4, the remainder in 4/4. In this way, certain modifications to the scheme become schematic for a particular performance. In total, then, realization consists of three distinct layers: the unmodified scheme (present only in the mind), the version of the scheme presented in the opening theme (whose modifications to the original may be retained throughout the performance), and the one-off elements appearing in any chorus.4 I distinguish these three layers here only for the sake of precision. My theory’s focus on meter, the most rigid feature of the scheme, allows me to downplay these subtleties when analyzing phrase-rhythm. The variation choruses may modify the scheme in many ways. Typically, the melody undergoes the greatest modification, the harmony undergoes subtler changes, and the meter is Larson (1998 and 2005) similarly argues that the line between improvisation and composition is blurry, and of little practical consequence. 4 Complicating matters further, sometimes the variations follow a slightly different scheme from the opening and closing themes—usually, a simplified harmonic progression. In that case, the first variation chorus can establish a modified scheme for subsequent variation choruses. 3


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strictly maintained.5 The melody in the variation choruses may relate to the scheme in many different ways. In “paraphrase improvisation,” the realized melody more or less follows the schematic melody, adding elaborations, inserting “fills” between phrases, or omitting notes (Kernfeld 1995: 131–151). But in other cases, the realized melody may bear no obvious relation to the schematic melody, and follows only the schematic harmony. For example, “formulaic improvisation” is the combination of pre-learned melodic fragments into longer phrases based only on harmonic context, and “motivic improvisation” is the systematic development of short motives, which may have no relation to the scheme (ibid.).6 All of these types can appear within a single solo, but only in the case of paraphrase improvisation does the improvised melody refer to the theme. In jazz pedagogy, perhaps the most common method of teaching melodic improvisation is “chord-scale theory.” The improviser draws melodic material from scales that are appropriate for each type of chord.7 For example, one might employ a minor scale with flat seventh and natural sixth (“Dorian”) over a minor-seventh chord. Melodies constructed through this process need not have any connection to the schematic melody, only the schematic harmony. To counteract this tendency, students may be told to imagine the schematic melody as they play; but it is certainly possible to produce satisfying jazz melodies that relate only to the schematic harmony, not the melody. Schenkerian analysis presents a richer picture of jazz melody. Analyses peel away surface diminutions to reveal how the improvised melody preserves both melodic and harmonic aspects of the scheme, especially the underlying voice-leading.8 The intricacy of this analytical method highlights the distance between the realized melody and the schematic melody: if the melody always related to the scheme’s original melody in an obvious way, such methods would not be necessary. And the resulting connections between the improvised melody and the theme are sometimes obscure (not to say dubious); the clearest consistent relationship remains that

Chapter 3 of Berliner 1994 discusses in depth the many methods by which musicians alter the scheme, from subtle variation of the schematic melody to the invention of entirely new melodies. 6 Owens 1974 and Kenny 1999 exemplify formulaic analysis, while Schuller 1958 includes paraphrase and motivic analysis. 7 Two examples of this approach are Mehegan 1959 and Reeves 1989. 8 See, for example, Martin (1996), or anything by Larson. 5


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between the improvised melody and the schematic harmony, specifically, the voice-leading strands implied by the harmony. Therefore, it appears that the variation choruses are under no obligation to preserve the scheme’s melody. Schematic harmony may be modified in the realization (“reharmonization”) but is seldom disregarded altogether. There are two common types of modification: substitution and interpolation.9 In substitution, one harmony replaces another of the same function. For example, in tritone substitution, a chord, usually a dominant-seventh chord, is replaced with the chord whose root is a tritone away.10(E.g., D-7—G7—C becomes D-7—Db7—C.) In interpolation, an extra chord or group of chords increases the harmonic rhythm without changing the harmonic middleground. For example, one can precede any dominant-seventh chord with its ii7 chord, “borrowing” metrical time from the dominant chord (so that there are no extra beats). The bridge of “I Got Rhythm” (Gershwin) normally features two measures each of D7, G7, C7, and F7. By the preceding method, the following progression may be substituted, with one chord per measure: A-7—D7—D-7—G7—G-7—C7—C-7—F7. Such modifications may be planned in advance, or applied spontaneously by the soloist or rhythm section. (Both of these examples involve modification of unstable harmonies, not functional tonics. This is typical.) In contrast with melody and harmony, the realization must strictly follow the schematic meter. Descriptions of the scheme-realization relationship tend to focus on melody and harmony and ignore meter. Berliner (1994) observes that “composed pieces or tunes, consisting of a melody and an accompanying harmonic progression, have provided the structure of improvisations throughout most of the history of jazz” (63). Similarly, Tirro (1974) describes improvisation as the “simultaneous acts of composition and performance of a new work based on a traditionally established schema—a chordal framework known as the ‘changes’” (286–287). These authors ignore meter not because it is unimportant, but because it is rigid and taken for granted.

Strunk (1979) and Terefenko (2008) describe many modifications in detail. Tritone substitution is based on the “functional” tritone held in common between tritonerelated dominant chords (in equal temperament). For example, the tritone in both G7 and Db7 is between B/Cb and F. 9

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I refine this description in chapter 1. For now, to illustrate the profound rigidity of jazz meter, I offer a hypothetical example. Assume a thirty-two-bar scheme: after a 96–measure (three-chorus) drum solo, in which the drummer employs wild syncopations and cross-rhythms, the remainder of the ensemble, tacet for the duration of the solo, will enter in unison on the downbeat of the 97th measure. If someone enters a beat or bar early or late, a savvy listener recognizes this as a mistake. According to David Temperley (2001), “Relative freedom in one [musical] rule…tends to be balanced by relative strictness in another” (296). Jazz’s melodic freedom and metrical strictness help define the style. Jazz musicians have great freedom to modify or replace the schematic melody and harmony, but they must maintain the meter. This serves a practical purpose. As Tirro puts it, “The educated and sensitive listener is at all times oriented with regard to the temporal progress of the piece” (1974: 287). It similarly aids the performer: according to Martin, “Since the two-, four-, and eight-bar subdivisions are easily internalized, the soloist is free to create complexities that play off against the large-scale regularity of the form” (1996: 41). The meter’s consistency allows the musicians and listeners to stay together in an environment of unplanned melodies and harmonies.

What is Phrase Rhythm?

Phrase rhythm is the interaction of two musical structures: grouping and meter. Temperley describes these structures’ conceptual independence: “Meter is a hierarchical framework of beats…which in itself implies no segmentation. Grouping is a hierarchical structure of segments, which in itself implies no accentuation. In principle…meter and grouping are independent structures, which may be aligned with one another in a variety of different ways” (2003: 125). In the next two chapters, I explain that although these structures are conceptually independent, they are not independent in practice. Grouping structure is the hierarchical organization of melody into motives, sub-phrases, phrases, and sections on the basis of such features as rests, rhythm, harmony, and repetition. A complete solo consists of many groups, in which still smaller groups are embedded. Fred Lerdahl and Ray Jackendoff call grouping structure “the most basic component of musical understanding” (1983: 13). According to one view, grouping structure arises in the listener’s


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mind through the unconscious application of rules to the musical surface, rules based on the features listed above (see especially Lerdahl and Jackendoff 1983 and Temperley 2001). Maury Yeston (1974) lists several criteria by which musical events may be grouped together. These include temporal proximity of attack point, timbre, dynamics, event density, and pattern recurrence (pp. 52–68). Yeston views the grouping process as pre-metrical. That is, if the analyst begins with as few assumptions as possible, grouping criteria are the best means for immediately organizing the musical surface, before determining metrical structure. Meter is a regular pattern of strong and weak beats, superimposed on the musical surface by the listener on the basis of informed expectation. It is often depicted as a hierarchy of beats at various levels. Hypermeter refers to metrical levels above the notated measure; a hypermeasure contains some whole number of measures, usually between two and four.11 (I allow larger hypermeasures as well.) “Meter” refers to the entire metrical hierarchy, including any hypermetrical levels. In jazz, the contrast between meter’s inflexibility and grouping structure’s freedom makes it easy to perceive their relationship. Figure I–1 shows the first sixteen measures of Charlie Parker’s solo on “Dewey Square.” At one level, the grouping structure is clear. Rests in measures 3, 7, 9–10, and 13–14 suggest division into the segments A, B, C, D, and E. But other levels of grouping structure are not so obvious. Do these segments combine to form larger groups? B and C might be grouped together because of their temporal proximity. The small melodic interval between the end of C and the beginning of D might suggest a connection between these segments. It is even harder to determine sub-groups within each segment. Within segment A, the tied eighth notes in measure 2 might suggest an internal division, but there is a clear voice-leading strand across this point from the Cb to the Bb on beat 4. Indeed, clear points of division are hard to find within any of the segments. On the other hand, the metrical structure of figure I–1 is entirely obvious. Measures 1 and 9 begin eight-bar hypermeasures, 5 and 13 begin four-bar hypermeasures, and 3, 7, 11, and 15 begin two-bar hypermeasures. Notice how the five segments relate to the downbeats. Segments C and D both end a little after strong downbeats—they are end-accented. Segment E has a metrically weak ending in the fourth bar of a hypermeasure, the only such phrase in the

11

The term first appears in Cone 1968: 79.


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example. At the one-measure level, every segment begins during the first two beats of a measure. Only segment A ends on a downbeat. Figure I–1. Parker, “Dewey Square”: Grouping structure of mm. 1–16 {21}

B

A

C

D

E

It should be clear from figure I–1 that melodic groups can stand in many relationships to the schematic meter and to each other. Other jazz theorists seem aware of these issues, but have never tackled them directly. For example, Martin (1996), who applies Schenkerian techniques to the music of Charlie Parker, offers some suggestive generalizations, but no analytical method: Parker’s [melodic] line is further enhanced through irregular phrasing and through its large-scale syncopation with respect to the eight-bar symmetries and customary harmonic rhythms of the song forms. His phrasing and accents will sometimes cut across these symmetries, but as often as not, he is content to conform to the song form by generally not phrasing across sectional divisions. (112) This description appears in the final chapter, on non-Schenkerian aspects of Parker’s style. No doubt Martin makes this assessment based on deep knowledge of Parker’s work, but the lack of empirical support contrasts with the rest of the book’s rigor. Keith Waters also appreciates these issues (1996). He even invokes the concept of hypermeter and its unconscious


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internalization by performers: “The notion [of hypermeter] represents clearly the larger formal divisions within the thirty-two-bar standard tune form and the twelve-bar blues. It is also a principle intuited by improvisers who articulate longer musical spans by providing a release point which gives stronger metrical weight to the larger divisions of the formal structure” (23). Even more suggestively, he observes, “While jazz pedagogy and the critical literature normally focus upon the harmonic dimension—often harmonic substitution—perhaps equally crucial for extended improvisations are the rhythmic techniques that obscure the barline, as well as fourbar, eight-bar, and other formal divisions” (19). The striking contrast between metrical rigidity and melodic freedom—especially the freedom to create diverse grouping structures—invites deeper exploration.

Why Phrase Rhythm Matters

By definition, phrase rhythm is a part of every jazz solo, whether or not the performer or audience is aware of it. This is because every solo necessarily involves the superimposition of a grouping structure on a metrical structure. One goal of this dissertation is to shed light on this under-recognized aspect of jazz. Phrase rhythm also contributes a great deal to the aesthetic value of many jazz solos. In the following chapters, I explain how grouping structure can support or contradict meter, creating a state of phrase rhythm consonance or dissonance. Pure consonance and dissonance occupy opposing ends of a spectrum, within which the two components of phrase rhythm may agree or disagree in various ways. For the sensitive listener, the fluctuation of these states throughout a solo creates powerful sensations of tension and resolution. Phrase rhythm shares this power with every other aspect of music to which theorists devote attention. Therefore, the other goal of this dissertation is to awaken our sensitivity to these fluctuations. In chapter 1, I describe the two components of phrase rhythm in more detail, with special attention to their behavior in jazz. In chapter 2, I present my method of phrase-rhythm analysis. In Part II, I apply the method to performances by a variety of musicians, in schemes of various types. Performances in chapter 3 follow thirty-two-bar AABA form; in chapter 4, thirty-two-bar ABAC form; in chapter 5, twelve-bar blues; chapter 6 covers some schemes that depart from these norms.

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Chapter 1: Meter and Grouping in Jazz In jazz, even more so than in classical music, meter and grouping coexist in a state of “creative tension” (Rothstein 1989: 28). The meter presents a predictable background on which diverse grouping structures may be superimposed. Meter consists of a hierarchy of temporal units—the choruses and their constituent hypermeasures—that the grouping structure can never alter. Grouping structure is free to imply its own hierarchy, whose units may or may not be coextensive with metrical units. In this chapter, I explore meter and grouping in detail.

Meter

I approach meter from two angles. Chiefly, I consider it as an abstract hierarchy, based on a view of meter that dominated until the 1990s. Secondarily, I consider how recent theories of meter grounded in perception temper the hierarchical perspective. The metrical hierarchy is a collection of embedded layers or levels of regular rhythmic activity. Clear antecedents of this modern concept emerged in the late 18th century.12 Johann Kirnberger’s starting point for meter is a stream of “undifferentiated tones” (Mirka 2009: 4). From this stream, “for meter to arise, a second-order regularity must be superimposed on the otherwise undifferentiated beats,” in the form of accents (ibid.). Heinrich Christoph Koch espouses a similar view. Kirnberger is equivocal with regard to whether or not the meterdefining accents are phenomenal—dependent on features of the music—or generated in the mind of the listener—the modern concept of the “metrical accent” (Mirka 2009: 5). In fact, both phenomenal and metrical accent are involved in metrical perception, as I explain below. Koch extends the hierarchy in both directions. Taktteile (beats) group together into Takte (measures), and may be divided into Taktglieder (beat divisions), which may be further divided into Taktnoten (subdivisions) (Mirka 2009: 8). Koch considers all layers in relation to the stream of pulses: “The eighteenth-century metrical hierarchy is centered around the level of Taktteile” (ibid.). The level of Taktteile is thus similar to the modern concept of the tactus, discussed below. Kirnberger anticipates modern theory by positing three classes of accent, which roughly 12

In the following summary I rely on Caplin 2002 and chapter 1 of Mirka 2009.

Chapter 1: Meter and Grouping in Jazz 11

correspond to the modern concepts of metrical accent, phenomenal accent, and dynamic stress (Caplin 2002: 670). So-called Akzenttheorie became somewhat jumbled in the 19th century, with Marx notoriously suggesting that the performer apply stress to notes falling on the strong beats of the measure (1854). Nevertheless, two components of late 18th-century metrical theory—a hierarchy based on the Taktteil and distinct types of accent—anticipate modern views. Almost two hundred years later, Grosvenor Cooper and Leonard Meyer presented a “new” theory of meter (1960). Though they do not refer to 18th-century theory, their description of meter as “architectonic” resembles earlier views: meter is the “measurement of pulses between more or less regularly occurring accents” (4). 18th-century theorists emphasize notation, especially bar lines and the time signature. Cooper and Meyer recognize that these markings depict only two or three levels of the metrical hierarchy, observing that architectonic organization continues above and below these levels. Their theory falls short in its description of accent: they apply accents not only to events but also entire groups, and they do not classify accents into distinct types, although they do offer the memorable (but vague) definition of accent as a “stimulus which is marked for consciousness in some way” (8). Edward Cone’s Musical Form and Musical Performance (1968) discusses the metrical aspects of the Baroque, Classical, and Romantic styles, and vividly juxtaposes each style’s treatment of the metrical hierarchy (chapter 3). According to Cone, each style-period focuses on a different level: in the Baroque, the beat is primary, in the Classical, the measure, and in the Romantic, the four-bar “hypermeasure” (79). This demonstrates his awareness that meter, understood broadly, goes beyond notation. His description of Baroque meter also points towards the concept of the metrical accent: “The beats seem to form a pre-existing framework that is independent of the musical events that it controls” (70). This should sound familiar based on my preliminary description of the schematic meter in jazz. In jazz, the “pre-existing framework” goes much deeper than in Baroque music. Arthur Komar (1971) describes the metrical hierarchy in more precise terms. To him, each level of the hierarchy has the same properties, further minimizing the role of notation. He writes, “‘Strong’ beats at a given metrical level are those that coincide with beats at a higher metrical level” (53). In other words, the property of strength within a level is nothing more than the presence of a beat at the next highest level. While Koch formulated the hierarchy in terms of accents on the level of Taktteile, Komar argues that the very existence of regular accents


within a metrical level depends on the presence of a higher level. The difference is in causal orientation: for Koch, the accents on the level of Taktteile create the level of Takte; for Komar, one level of beats creates the accents in the level below, a top-down view heavily influenced by the late work of Heinrich Schenker. He believes the entire metrical hierarchy flows from its highest level: “The interrelations of strong and weak beats at higher metrical levels carry down into lower metrical levels, so that in the foreground, beats are typically both strong and weak relative to different time-spans” (53). Though Komar’s top-down perspective on meter has not been taken up by others, his conception of the metrical hierarchy has been influential. Maury Yeston (1974) approaches the hierarchy from the other end—the lowest levels—but arrives at a similar formalism to Komar. He writes, “The fundamental logical requirement for meter is…that there be a constant rate within a constant rate—at least two rates of events of which one is faster and another is slower” (90). In other words, like Komar, he explains regular accents within a level as originating in a higher level. He says that meter “appears” on neither the faster nor the slower level alone: “There is apparently, then, no such thing as a level of meter or a level on which meter may appear; but rather, meter is an outgrowth of the interaction of two levels” (90). Like Komar, Yeston develops his metrical theory on Schenkerian lines, equating the different levels of the metrical hierarchy with different levels of tonal events. He also uses his theory of rhythmic strata to model metrical consonance and dissonance, in a manner adapted by Harald Krebs (1999). Building on Yeston, Fred Lerdahl and Ray Jackendoff present the clearest picture of the metrical hierarchy (1983). For them, it is the “interaction of different levels of beats (or the regular alternation of strong and weak beats) that produces the sensation of meter” (68). In other words, they equate regular accents on a single level with the presence of multiple levels: these are simply two ways of looking at the same thing. Following Yeston, they note that all strong beats at one level carry over to the next-higher level, and that beats at any given level are strong beats at all smaller levels (19–20). They also develop the familiar “dot” notation for the metrical hierarchy. Figure 1–1 shows a hypothetical “metrical grid” using dots. Metrical levels are labeled on the left, and a dot indicates the presence and location of a beat on that level.


Figure 1–1. A metrical grid in 4/4.















2–Bar



4–Bar





 



  



 



 



 

 

Lerdahl and Jackendoff’s greatest innovation is in their presentation of the metrical hierarchy as a perceptual entity: a model of how listeners comprehend meter. They distinguish three types of accent: 1) phenomenal, resulting from “any event at the musical surface that gives emphasis or stress to a moment in the musical flow” (something “marked for consciousness”); 2) structural, “caused by the melodic/harmonic points of gravity”; and 3) metrical, “any beat that is relatively strong in its metrical context” (17). Of these types, the first, phenomenal accent, acts as a “perceptual input” to meter (ibid.). The listener unconsciously applies a series of rules to determine the most logical meter based on the music’s attributes (72–101). These rules capture our intuitions about meter. For example, their fifth Metrical Preference Rule (MPR5) expresses the intuition that relatively long rhythmic values tend to occur on relatively strong beats (80–87). “Beats” in the hierarchy represent “metrical accents,” which are inferred from the unconscious processing of phenomenal accents. Their theory represents the “final state” of listeners’ understanding. Though their explanation of the metrical hierarchy moves beyond previous theories, Danuta Mirka observes that it is unrepresentative of real-time metrical processing (2009: 16 ff). Below, I present her refinement of their theory. For now, I pursue the concept of the metrical hierarchy a bit more deeply. Justin London writes, “One may characterize meters in terms of their hierarchic depth” (2004: 25). Jazz’s metrical hierarchy is extremely deep. In a medium-tempo thirty-two-bar scheme, it includes a quarter-note, half-note, measure, two-measure, four-measure, eight-


measure, sixteen-measure, and thirty-two-measure level. Carl Schachter provides a vivid account of metrical accent, germane to this account of jazz’s metrical hierarchy: Once the listener becomes aware of recurrent durational units—beats, measures, and larger periodicities—that awareness, in and of itself, adds another layer of accentuation to the musical image. The accents thus produced are true metrical accents—metrical because they arise directly out of the listener’s awareness of the equal divisions of time that measure the music’s flow. (1987: 5) In jazz, these “recurrent durational units” are determined by the scheme and known in advance by the performer, and by any listener familiar with the particular scheme. When hearing a performance, a listener sensitive to the metrical hierarchy has an entirely different experience from a naïve listener. The savvy listener anticipates each passing beat, from the lowest to the highest levels. Performance conventions also highlight the scheme’s largest metrical units. Transitions between soloists nearly always occur within a measure or two of the boundary between choruses—the chorus being the largest metrical unit. This transition can also occur at the midpoint of each chorus, highlighting the second-largest metrical unit. Consider also the common practice of “trading fours,” in which soloists take turns improvising during four-bar hypermeasures, and the related practices of “trading eights” and “trading twos.” (No one ever “trades threes,” only metrical time-spans.) Jazz’s treatment of the lowest metrical level is also distinctive. The tactus is a primary metrical level, the “level of beats that is conducted and with which one most naturally coordinates foot-tapping and dance steps” (Lerdahl and Jackendoff 1983: 71). The standard jazz tactus is the quarter-note; at very fast tempos, the half-note takes over. While the tactus is often almost metronomic, establishing a groove, division of the tactus is characteristically loose. (Consider the incredible variety in “swing” articulation of eighth-notes.) Duple, triple, and even quadruple division of the tactus are all common, and may be freely mixed and inflected. London (2004) details the perceptual limitations on the tactus. He claims that the range of ideal tacti—those judged by a listener to be neither too long nor too short—is between 80 and 120 beats per minute (bpm). Beat frequencies below 30 bpm or above 240 bpm are too slow or fast to be heard as tacti (29–30). Jazz’s characteristic treatment of the tactus as the fastest regular level of beats combines with this wide perceptual range to explain the phenomenon of tactus-


shifting, commonly called “double-time” or “double-time feel.” This occurs at tempos in the lower end of London’s range, at which the tactus’s frequency can double without exceeding the possible range. (For example, a tactus-tempo of 60 bpm can double to 120 bpm while remaining within the ideal range.) In this situation, the perceived tactus shifts from the quarternote to the eighth-note. Kernfeld describes the effect: “Double-time involves a doubling of tempo in the rhythm section, a doubling of the general speed of the melody line, or both" (1995: 8). This description (and the term “double-time”) is misleading, however, because the tempo only seems to double as a result of a shift in tactus. Under such a shift, the number of tacti per chorus doubles; each chorus contains twice as many tactus-beats, but the same amount of quarter-note beats as before. Because the listener is inclined to interpret the lowest regular level as the tactus, musicians bring about the tactus-shift simply by playing the eighth-note level strictly, and “swinging” the eighth-note divisions in the same way that eighth-notes are normally swung. At times, one member of an ensemble may imply a shifted tactus while others do not, creating tension between competing interpretations.

Refining this View: Metrical Projection and Perception

Christopher Hasty (1997) challenges the hierarchical view of meter described above. His theory attempts to model the real-time experience of meter. It is based on the notion of projection in time. According to Hasty, “Projective potential is the potential for a present event’s duration to be reproduced for a successor. This potential is realized if and when there is a new beginning whose durational potential is determined by the now past first event” (84). Example 1–2 shows the projective process. The labels A and B respectively designate an “event”—a sounding note, for example—and the silence that follows. The onset of a second event, A´, demarcates the end of the first “duration,” C, comprising the event A and silence B. At the onset of A´, the “actual duration” C creates the “potential duration” C´, which is not yet past. The solid arrow indicates a completed duration, while the dotted line indicates only a “potential duration,” yet to be realized. In simple terms, the experience of the duration C creates an expectation of parallelism for the duration of C'.


Figure 1–2. Metrical projection. (Hasty 1997: fig. 7.1, p. 84)

C A

C´ B

A´

B´

Hasty’s theory influences the recent work of Danuta Mirka (2009), which combines projective theory with Lerdahl and Jackendoff’s hierarchical view. Echoing London (2004), Mirka divides the act of metrical perception into “finding” and “monitoring” meter. She uses projection to depict the initial determination of meter and the negotiation of metrically challenging passages, and uses the metrical grid to depict an established meter. On this basis, she claims, “All of the analyses presented in [Hasty 1997] are designed to reveal intermediary stages of [metrical] processing by bringing to light the projections of which it consists” (29; my emphasis).13 In other words, Hasty shows only one portion of the act of metrical processing: finding, not monitoring meter. Based on a synthesis of research into metrical cognition, London also argues for dividing metrical processing into two stages (2004). He depicts the perception of meter as a process of “entrainment.” Meter is the “anticipatory schema that is the result of our inherent abilities to entrain to periodic stimuli in our environment” (12). Listeners have an innate sensitivity to regularity, and learn to anticipate future events on the basis of past regularity. The second phase of metrical processing, monitoring meter, is marked by the perception of metrical accents, a consequence of entrained anticipation: “A metrical accent occurs when a metrically entrained listener projects a sense of both temporal location and relatively greater salience onto a musical event” (London: 23). The expectation of accent creates an accent in the listener’s mind, no matter the event that ultimately coincides with the accent—a self-fulfilling prophecy. This is why metrical accents can fall on rests. Metrical accents arise only in the phase of monitoring meter, the phase that London, like Mirka, thinks Hasty overlooks. This view accounts for the perception of metrical accent even on the first hearing of a piece, going beyond Lerdahl and Jackendoff’s claims (1983). This echoes an earlier critique in London 1999: “Hasty’s analyses…can be readily understood as fine-grained explanations of metric recognition,” i.e. the early part of processing meter (265– 266). 13


According to Mirka, the initial events of a piece enter a “parallel multiple-choice processor,” which unconsciously compares possible interpretations of the meter.14 A potential metrical analysis enters consciousness only after it has passed a certain threshold of regularity, which varies depending on the context (19). The end result is a “projective hierarchy,” as reproduced in figure 1–3, and the comparatively easy task of monitoring meter, in which metrical accents arise from the expectation of continued confirmation of projections (ibid.). Figure 1–3 combines aspects of figures 1–1 and 1–2. When meter departs from expectations, the parallel processor “wake[s] up” and compares possible analyses once again (23). Figure 1–3. A projective hierarchy. (Mirka 2009: fig. 1.12, p. 19)

The experienced jazz listener assumes a priori that a fixed metrical hierarchy, up to the level of the chorus, will persist throughout a performance. The first chorus establishes this structure. Metrical processing then involves the weighing of perceptual input against prior knowledge of jazz metrical convention.15 This knowledge operates at two levels: familiarity with specific schemes and scheme-types, and familiarity with the broader demand of metrical regularity. All performances will fall into one of the following categories (listed in order of increasing cognitive demand): 1. A familiar scheme, realized… a.

…without additions (intro, interludes, etc.) or revisions;

b. …with additions, but no revisions; c.

…with revisions, which are introduced in the opening theme and retained in the variations;

Mirka 17–18; the “parallel multiple-analysis model” is first posited in Jackendoff 1991. Knowledge of metrical convention informs the perception of many styles besides jazz; but the conventions of jazz meter are unusually powerful. 14 15


d. …with two metrical schemes, one for the theme and one for the variations, requiring that the listener use the first variation chorus as a metrical scheme for the others; 2. An unfamiliar scheme… a.

…with the same scheme in theme and variations, and no additions;

b. …with the same scheme in theme and variations, and additions; c.

…with a different scheme in theme and variations (see 1d).

The cognitive demands of an unfamiliar scheme are significantly lower if it conforms to a common form, like thirty-two-bar AABA or ABAC (or its common variants), or twelve-bar blues. Experienced listeners recognize these easily. Consideration of metrical perception refines the account of jazz’s highest metrical levels. I have grouped the chorus-level in the same category as other metrical levels: the chorus is a recurring temporal unit, as are the sixteen- and eight-bar hypermeasures of thirty-two-bar schemes. But cognitive limits on beat perception suggest that meter is not perceived in the same way at all levels: as metrical units grow larger, meter blurs into form. According to London, “Metric entrainment can only occur with respect to periodicities in a range from about 100 ms to about 5 or 6 seconds” (2004: 46). At a tempo of 120 beats per minute, a fourbar hypermeasure lasts eight seconds. I speculate that one perceives the regularity of large timespans through the unconscious accumulation of smaller spans, a learned skill.16 Metrical accents at higher levels still feel stronger than those at lower levels; however, the eight-bar downbeat (the first quarter-note beat of an eight-bar unit) receives its metrical accent not via a projection originating from the previous eight-bar downbeat, but from the aggregation of lowerlevel beats and foreknowledge of the scheme.

Gridley (2006) writes, “Each musician is silently counting the beats and thinking of the chords that are progressing while he is not playing” (14). This may describe the experience of beginning players, but experienced musicians only bother to count consciously when realizing a scheme with an unusual meter; for most schemes one simply feels the hypermetrical units. 16


Challenges to the Meter

I divide meter-disturbing events into three categories: expressive variation, dissonance, and alteration. London defines expressive variation as “subtle nuances involving compressions and extensions of otherwise deadpan rhythms” (2004: 28); it is as much a part of jazz as classical music. Benadon (2009) interprets jazz soloists’ microrhythmic accelerations, decelerations, and fluctuations as “transformations” of underlying rhythms, by tracking how certain passages depart from regularity. These variations challenge the metrical hierarchy “from the outside”: they involve clock time and could not be shown on a conventional metrical grid (see fig. 1–1 above). Yeston 1974 contains the first detailed discussion of metrical dissonance (chapter 4), which arises from a conflict among metrical levels. Harald Krebs (1999) divides dissonances into “grouping” and “displacement.” Hemiola exemplifies the former, persistent syncopation the latter. In a jazz context, metrical dissonance might be considered the superimposition on the schematic meter of any conflicting, regular layer of accents. For example, in a 4/4 scheme, a pianist might play accompanying chords on every third quarter-note beat, creating a layer of regular rhythmic activity that contradicts the scheme. The schematic meter need not be literally present in the realization for metrical dissonance to take place. “Subliminal dissonance” describes a dissonance that takes place against an implied metrical layer (Krebs 1999: 46). Subliminal dissonance is very common in jazz, aided by the power of metrical convention to bolster the memory of the schematic meter during extended digressions. The prevalence of metrical dissonance in jazz has made it a popular topic of theoretical research (recently, Downs 2000/2001, Folio 1995, Hodson & Buehrer 2004, Larson 1997 & 2006, and Waters 1996). Each author uses a slightly different set of terms, but their collective focus is on dissonances at or near the tactus-level. Steve Larson and Keith Waters devote some attention to hypermeter. Larson suggests that episodes of grouping dissonance often begin and end on hypermetrical downbeats (2006: 117). Waters (1996) defines a dissonant effect called a “2-shift”: a phrase that begins in the second measure of a four-bar hypermeasure. Hodson and Buehrer (2004) even apply Krebs’s methodology to jazz. In general, these articles adapt classical theory to the jazz repertoire, rather than introducing approaches uniquely suited to jazz.


Metrical alteration is the replacement of one metrical level with another. I already mentioned that a realization can incorporate into every chorus certain pre-planned alterations to a familiar scheme. For example, there might be metrical modulations at certain points in each chorus, or the addition of beats or measures. Such alterations become part of the scheme for that performance, even if known in advance only to the performers. I distinguish these cases from spontaneous metrical alterations, those that occur with no prior planning or discussion, and that require only non-verbal communication to coordinate.17 All spontaneous metrical alterations must be comprehensible as subliminal grouping dissonances that preserve some higher metrical level. Typical examples involve the replacement of duple with triple division at some level, with the next-highest level held constant.18 Consider a measure-preserving metrical modulation from 4/4 to 6/8 ( = .).19 This replaces duple division of the half-measure with triple division. But the flow of half-measures and measures continues uninterrupted through the modulation, as do all higher levels; no matter how long the modulation persists, it could be understood and heard as a subliminal dissonance against the schematic 4/4.20 To suggest this alteration to the rhythm section, a soloist only need persistently employ triple division of the half-measure; a skilled rhythm section will quickly recognize the change. Even if they do not acknowledge the change, or if several measures pass before they perceive it, the ensemble will continue their parallel progress through the scheme, due to the synchronization of higher metrical levels between the original and altered meter. Compare this with an invalid alternative, tactus-preserving modulation from 4/4 to 3/4 ( = ). After this modulation, each chorus will last 96 quarter-notes, not 128, but each quarter

Dunn (2009) discusses how musicians suggest metrical dissonances and alterations to one another through musical cues alone. 18 Mirka (2009) discusses how all grouping dissonances can all be understood relative to both a lower and a higher level (156 ff). The latter orientation is more useful here. 19 Waters (1996) distinguishes measure-preserving from tactus-preserving polymeter, based on whether the downbeat-level or the tactus-level is common to both of the dissonant metrical layers. The same distinction may be made between metrical modulations, based on the note value that is held constant. 20 Fred Hersch oscillates between 4/4 and 6/8 in just this manner throughout his performance of “Con Alma” from the album Songs Without Words (2001). 17


note will last the same amount of time. This cannot be understood as the re-division of a metrical level, and it would be absurd to treat this as subliminal grouping dissonance at some higher level.21 Furthermore, if a soloist attempted to make this alteration unilaterally, without prior planning, the rhythm section would probably mistake the alteration for a superimposed polymeter, and retain the 4/4 scheme. Unless the rhythm section instantaneously responded to the soloist, the two parts would “decouple,” drifting further and further apart in their progress through the scheme. For this reason, though hypermetrical alteration is ubiquitous in common-practice music, it is impossible in jazz, since it cannot be understood as re-division of a higher metrical level. Figure 1–4 shows a “metrical reinterpretation.” In measure 16, the regular alternation of strong and weak downbeats is interrupted by an unexpected strong downbeat, arising from the forte entrance of the orchestra on a new phrase and tonic harmony. The two-measure level and any potential four-measure level are disrupted by the unexpected strong downbeat in measure 16. There is consistency only at the next-lowest metrical level, the downbeat-level. Alterations that violate this rule may safely be interpreted as mistakes. Consider figure 1– 5. Here, the Bill Evans Trio inserts an extra beat in a 3/4 context, resulting in a measure of 4/4. Just before measure 7, as marked with an “X,” Evans continues the harmony D7, implying that D7 continues through the downbeat of bar 7. This is a distortion of a rhythmic cliché in which the left-hand anticipates downbeat harmonies by an eighth-note. The late arrival of Ebmaj7, on beat one-and of measure 7, implies that beat two is a downbeat (since the pianist would typically play a new harmony just before the downbeat). In consequence, the rhythm section inserts an extra beat in the following measure. The bassist and drummer erroneously believed that Evans had (accidentally) inserted an extra beat, and they attempted to compensate.22

The 3/4 scheme and the 4/4 scheme will only align every 384 beats: three choruses of 4/4 and four choruses of 3/4. 22 A skilled rhythm section is highly sensitive to potential errors on the part of the soloist, in order to minimize the audible consequences. In this case, they were too sensitive. Errors can and do occur at every metrical level: the addition or subtraction of a beat is perhaps most common, but measures and even sections may be accidentally added or subtracted. 21


Figure 1–4. Hypermetrical analysis of Haydn's Symphony no. 104/I, Allegro. (Temperley 2008: fig. 1, p. 307)

Figure 1–5: A metrical mistake. (Evans, "Someday My Prince Will Come,” beginning of 2nd chorus) {9}

How do I know figure 1–5 shows a mistake and not an intentional alteration of the scheme? Because the additional beat does not appear at any other point in the performance. Its appearance in other choruses, especially an appearance at the same place in each, would suggest that the performance followed model 1c above—a familiar scheme with revisions in the realization. It is inconceivable that the group would deliberately insert a single extra beat only once in the performance.


The top-down rigidity of jazz meter has a precedent in classical variation procedure. Variations, except in the freer variation style of the late nineteenth century, preserve the metrical scheme established by the theme (Nelson 1949: 6). Jazz develops this procedure in two ways. First, it combines the metrical continuity of ostinato variations with the greater thematic length of discrete variations (those performed with an intervening pause). (Consider Tirro’s comparison of jazz variation procedure with a “chaconne,” quoted in the introduction.) Second, it liberates grouping structure from the scheme, which is maintained through meter and harmony alone.

Grouping

Meter in jazz is not only rigid, it is also highly independent, requiring a minimum of reinforcement from other musical features once it has been established. This is true not only of lower metrical levels, but also of the highest metrical levels. In contrast, hypermeter in classical music remains closely tied to phrase-level grouping structure and tonal structure. Specifically, hypermeter, when present, depends on tonal structure and phrase structure. (The distinction between “phrase structure” and “grouping structure” is vague. I use the terms more or less interchangeably. The term “phrase” has received a range of definitions—based on length, motivic content, essential voice-leading, and so forth—but all imply that a phrase is a kind of group, and so it seems appropriate to mix the two.) The conceptual separation of grouping and meter clarifies thought; but in practice, the two structures are mutually dependent, and theorists recognize this. Of course, grouping and meter are often in a state of slight misalignment—“out of phase,” in Lerdahl and Jackendoff’s terms—but this is a long way from true independence. I quoted David Temperley in chapter 1, writing that “in principle…meter and grouping are independent” (2003: 125). But elsewhere, he acknowledges: “It appears that grouping and meter both affect one another” (2001: 70–71). Indeed, it is impossible for a composer to establish hypermeter without the help of grouping structure or tonal structure. Given the close link between hypermeter and phrase structure in musical practice, it is unsurprising that 18th-century theorists treated them as a single concept. Joseph Riepel’s midcentury treatise on composition defines the units of phrasing in terms of their metrical length,


a practice continued sometimes even to this day (as in Caplin 1998, quoted below, and in my analytical method, presented in chapter 2). Melodic and harmonic features delineate Riepel’s Zweyer, Dreyer, and Vierer—phrases two, three, and four measures in length (Eckert 2000: 106– 110). Riepel writes that minuets employ only Zweyer and Vierer, reflecting a preference for duple hypermeter derived from dance practice (Eckert 2000: 108). Heinrich Koch’s “mechanical rules of melody,” written in the 1780s, develops Riepel’s ideas into a more systematic study. Koch defines the basic phrase (enger Satz) in terms of metrical length—four measures of duple or triple meter, or two compound-duple (4/4) measures. A melodic segment of this length “is complete when it can be understood or felt as a self-sufficient section of the whole, without a preceding or succeeding incomplete segment fortuitously connected to it” (Koch 1983: 6–7). Phrases of other lengths arise through extension or combination of basic phrases (41 ff). Koch also classifies these modified phrases by their metrical length. Koch recognizes the phenomenon of phrase overlap, in which the ending of a phrase coincides with the beginning of the next phrase. Modern theorists believe that this happens in two distinct ways. Sometimes, it results in a “missing” measure, as in figure 1–4, measure 16. But sometimes, phrases can overlap without disturbing the hypermeter (Rothstein 1989: 44).23 This distinction depends on the conceptual separation of grouping and meter, so Koch cannot make it. He thinks all phrase overlaps result from the “stifling or suppression of a measure” (1983: 54–65). Koch shares Riepel’s preference for duple and quadruple hypermeter. His Einschnitt, or sub-phrase, is typically two measures long. Not only is the four-bar phrase “basic,” it is also ideal: “Most common, and also, on the whole, most useful and most pleasing for our feelings are those basic phrases which are completed in the fourth measure of simple meters” (11). Anton Reicha extends this duple preference to the next metrical level (1818). He bases his theory of melody on the eight-measure period, divided into four-measure “rhythms” or “members,” which are further divided into two-measure “figures” (Reicha 2000). Like Koch, Reicha permits various modifications to these units of phrasing, including “supposition,” his term for overlap (26–27). These modifications can change the metrical length of the basic units

23

For a critique of this view of phrase overlaps, see Lester 1986: 187–192.


but not their underlying status. Going beyond his predecessors, Reicha observes the effect of tempo on the units of phrasing: “The slower the movement [tempo], the shorter the members should be [in metrical length]” (36). Shortening the metrical length of phrases at slower tempos has the effect of equalizing the “clock length” of phrases at all tempos. Reicha’s advice demonstrates his intuitive awareness of the cognitive limits on perceiving periodicity. For these three theorists, hypermeter does not exist as a concept outside of grouping structure. They all express a preference for melodic periodicity, which inevitably creates hypermetrical periodicity. Reicha even insists that the three-measure sub-phrase “always requires a companion” (2000: 29). Thus, Reicha associates three-measure sub-phrases with three-bar hypermeter, which would require repetition of this unit. Over a century after Reicha, Cone (1968) similarly blends hypermeter and phrase structure in his belief that the “four-bar phrase” does not need to be four bars long (75, quoted above). The characteristic “rhythm” of these phrases arises through patterns of harmonic and melodic tension rather than metrical length. Though Lerdahl and Jackendoff separate grouping and meter conceptually, they also recognize their close links in musical practice. For them, meter exerts its organizational power at a local level, while grouping takes care of the highest levels—entire sections and movements. But “in between lies a transitional zone in which grouping gradually takes over responsibility from metrical structure. It is in this zone…that metrical ambiguities occur in tonal music” (99 ff). This zone corresponds to the units of phrasing classified by Riepel, Koch, and Reicha. In classical music, meter does not exist beyond this zone. Though meter and grouping are intermixed, meter depends on grouping in a way that grouping does not depend on meter. Lerdahl and Jackendoff’s second “metrical preference rule” explicitly accounts for the influence of grouping on meter.24 Elsewhere, they write: “Parallelism among groups of irregular length often forces metrical structures into irregularity above the measure level” (99). It is irregular groups that cause irregular metrical structures, not the other way around. Example 1–4, discussed earlier, showed how harmony and grouping structure can override an established hypermetrical level. Rothstein (1989) also endorses the “MPR 2 (Strong Beat Early) Weakly prefer a metrical structure in which the strongest beat in a group appears relatively early in the group” (1983: 76). This rule takes grouping structure as a given, and assumes the listener uses it to help determine metrical structure. 24


conceptual separation of grouping and meter, while deriving hypermeter from grouping structure: “If two or more non-duple phrases, each of the same length, follow each other in direct succession, a feeling of regularly recurring accents is likely to be created, and with it a feeling of hypermeter” (37). William Caplin (1998) defines phrases through melodic content and metrical length. He echoes 18th-century thought in his definition of the phrase as “minimally, a four-measure unit, often, but not, necessarily, containing two ideas” (256). Caplin’s phrases are of many types, and need not end with a cadence: for example, the “presentation phrase” is a four-measure unit that prolongs tonic harmony, as might begin a larger group (45, 256). Thus, Caplin explicitly defines the “phrase” through a combination of meter, thematic structure, and tonal structure. Historically, other theorists have also linked grouping structure to tonal structure as well as hypermeter. Riepel and Koch define the phrase through its degree of tonal closure. Both theorists recognize half and full cadences, and cadences “on different degrees” (modulations), as means of ending a phrase. Lerdahl and Jackendoff believe tonally self-contained groups are most easily perceived (1983: 52). Rothstein’s theory of phrase rhythm augments the historic view of the phrase with the insight of Schenkerian analysis. Rothstein defines the phrase as “directed motion from one tonal entity to another” (1989: 5). This definition places a lower limit on phrase length, but not an upper limit: Rothstein claims that “large phrases may contain smaller ones” (10). To determine phrase structure, Rothstein believes that “the best available means…is the Schenkerian method, because that approach reveals underlying tonal motions most precisely” (13). Schachter also uses Schenkerian analysis to clarify hypermeter (1980, 1987). Like Rothstein, he believes that some phrases of irregular length derive from regular prototypes, and that tonal structure reveals phrase structure. His process of “durational reduction,” a combination of Schenkerian and metrical reduction, “shows a ‘higher-level’ metrical organization of measures” (1980: 198). Theories of classical music assume a close relationship between phrase structure, hypermeter, and tonal structure. To wit: at the phrase level, tonal structure determines grouping structure, and both structures work together to create hypermeter. Jazz upsets these relationships. In jazz, the scheme determines both metrical structure and middleground tonal structure; grouping structure has been emancipated.


Distinctive Features of Jazz Phrase Structure

Although the grouping structure of improvised jazz melodies is unencumbered by the scheme, jazz themes, by and large, preserve the conventional alignment of phrase structure, meter, and tonal structure that is found in common-practice music. Allen Forte (1995) analyzes schemes by the “big six” composers of the Great American Songbook: Harold Arlen, Irving Berlin, Jerome Kern, George Gershwin, Cole Porter, and Richard Rodgers. Their work may be taken as representative of the style. Forte writes, In the American popular song the four-bar length of the phrase is canonical, so much so that “phrase” used with respect to form means “four-bar phrase.” The musical markers that delimit the phrase engage melody, rhythm, harmony, and often, but not always, the lyric. (37) Forte says that phrases are often divided into two-bar “groups,” and combined into eightmeasure “periods.” Periods combine into songs, so that all of these units “manifest a hierarchical arrangement” (37). While Reicha and company also describe the units of phrasing as duple and hierarchical, they acknowledge that composers modify these units; but in jazz standards, non-duple groups are almost unheard of.25 Forte’s approach is Schenkerian. He highlights some instances in which tonal structure cuts across melodic grouping structure: In general, it is important to recognize that the components of the template form—in particular, the two-bar group and the four-bar phrase—do not delimit motions of larger span, such as long lines and harmonic progressions. In fact, more often than not, harmonic progressions override those surface groupings. (41) In many examples, tonal resolution only occurs at the ends of periods, pairs of periods, or even entire songs (see especially Forte’s chapter 8 on Jerome Kern). But these large tonal motions still tend to coincide with large metrical groups—eight- and sixteen-measures hypermeasures. One might speculate that this regularity arose from the practical needs of accompanying social dancing, as in the metrical conventions of Baroque dance movements. But popular dance steps of the day, such as the foxtrot or various styles of swing dancing, only required predictibility at the measure level or below—certainly not through four- and eight-bar levels. (Indeed, the “basic” step in West-coast swing lasts six beats, which is consonant at the half-note level, but creates metrical dissonance with the measure-level!) 25


Smaller groups, indicated by rests and longer notes, more or less follow the two- and four-bar levels of the meter. Terefenko (2004) also examines a large repertoire of standards from a Schenkerian perspective. He concludes, “In the case of standard tunes, there appear to be a finite number of typical phrase models, each with its own distinctive melodic structure, essential jazz counterpoint, and supporting harmonies” (3). At no point does Terefenko discuss hypermeter— perhaps because it is so consistent as to be taken for granted—but his conclusion reflects the formulaic quality of phrasing in the standard repertoire. The formulaic quality of standard schemes alters the relationship between grouping, tonal structure, and hypermeter. No longer can grouping and tonal structure be said to determine hypermeter, as they do in classical music. Rather, a composer might set out from the start to write a thirty-two-bar song in eight-bar sections, or intuitively follow this model, and then craft the tonal and grouping structure to fit the hypermeter.26 There are many examples in classical music where tonal structure overrides any “preference” for duple groups, demonstrating its primacy (indeed, the “preference” for duple hypermeter is not uncontroversial); such is seldom the case in jazz. After the opening thematic statement, the melody in the variation choruses freely departs from the grouping structure of the theme. Many authors have recognized the resulting tension between schematic meter and melodic grouping, but their work does not go far enough. Owens 1974 is the first large-scale formulaic analysis of improvised melody, devoted entirely to Charlie Parker. Like Henry Martin, quoted in the Introduction, Owens mentions Parker’s phrase rhythm in an aside. He describes Parker’s varied phrase lengths and their relationship to the hypermeter: Larger aspects of [Parker’s] phrasing are observable in any of the transcriptions. A glance through these solos reveals a great variety of phrase lengths, from two- or threenote groups lasting only one or two beats, to single sustained notes, to elaborate musical sentences of ten or twelve measures. Parker tended to construct his phrases

There are certainly schemes that deviate from the thirty-two-bar models, and these deviations are brought about by tonal and grouping structure. But the most common modifications take the form of two- or four-bar extensions, which preserve the flow of two-bar downbeats. In chapter 6 I discuss several solos on metrically atypical schemes. 26


to coincide with the phrase structure of the piece being performed. Thus, his solos in 32-measure, *aaba* pieces generally show endings in the seventh or eighth measures of each section of each chorus. But deviations from this procedure abound, adding to the unpredictability and freshness of his performances. (14) Owens does not elaborate on Parker’s “deviations from this procedure,” nor how these contribute to the performances. The imprecision of his claims is typical of writing on this subject. Keith Waters (1996) analyzes rhythmic displacement in a solo by Herbie Hancock. He notes that in two places in Hancock’s solo, “Pitch and motive connections cut across the twelve-bar formal divisions and serve to blur the largest hypermetric divisions” (30). Figure 1–6 shows one instance of this. The motive in question is shown with brackets. Figure 1–6. Motive vs. hypermeter. (Hancock, “The Eye of the Hurricane,” mm. 69–76, from Waters 1996)

It is certainly true that at this point in the solo, a motive cuts across the hypermetrical division on the downbeat of measure 73, and that this connection unifies the solo. But I think Waters overstates the case by saying the hypermetrical division is “blurred.” The grouping structure of the solo reinforces the hypermetrical division: the final measure of the chorus (72) is entirely empty, and Hancock begins his next chorus on the chorus-level downbeat. As I explain in the next chapter, both motive and rests play a role in determining grouping structure; but here, the long rest trumps the motivic continuity and prevents any real conflict between grouping structure and hypermeter that the motive might create. In later chapters, I present several examples in which grouping structure and motive contradict hypermetrical divisions, and for which “blurring” seems a more appropriate description.


Of all jazz theorists, Steve Larson confronts the subject of phrase rhythm most directly (1996A, 1999). He recognizes the misalignment between schematic meter and melodic grouping structure: “Since [Charlie] Parker’s ‘phrases’ do not coincide with the 8-measure phrases of the original melody, I call these 8-measure units ‘sections’ rather than ‘phrases’” (1996A: 154). Larson describes a 4+2+2 grouping structure as a “reverse sentence,” saying that after the longer unit, “the two shorter units press forward” (ibid.). (This sort of description of grouping structure through measure counting appears as early as Reicha 1818 and Marx 1854.) Larson refers to sentential structure twice more in the article (158, 159). He describes phrase rhythm’s interaction with listener expectations: “The bridge begins as if its first half will be a 1+1+2 sentence”; when the third phrase is three measures instead of two, it surprises the listener (158). Elsewhere, Larson says that progressively lengthening phrases in an Oscar Peterson solo increase energy, and he even presents a chart of the phrase rhythm (1999: 298– 99). But these discussions play a supporting role to the main point of these articles, Schenkerian analysis. Larson’s treatment of phrase rhythm does not go much beyond what I have quoted here. One obstacle to developing a theory of jazz phrase rhythm is the lack of a definition for “phrase.” Clive Downs also notes this problem: “Phrasing is a term that tends to be used loosely by critics, and musical dictionaries often fail to give a precise definition” (2001: 42). He attempts to correct this situation with his own definition, supposedly “precise enough that a computer program could be written to automatically detect the start and end of each phrase” (ibid.). According to Downs, a phrase: •

Contains no rests “of an eighth note or greater,” except when o

The rest “has the effect of syncopation” or

o

The rest divides a segment from another segment of three beats or less in duration, in which case the short segment is united with the larger segment into a single phrase. (42–43)

While I sympathize with Downs’ goal of precision, I find his definition inadequate— although it succeeds in many cases. First of all, he places too much stock in rests, and ignores the closely-related factor of inter-onset interval (IOI), the temporal gap between successive attacks, whether or not rests are present. Consider figure 1–7, from Charlie Parker’s “Cosmic Rays.” This excerpt contains two segments; the second begins on the Eb at the end of the


second measure. (One might call it a single phrase divided into two sub-phrases.) Between these segments is an IOI of 3.5 beats, quite long in the context. With respect to phrasing, the divisive effect of IOI almost equals a rest of equivalent duration (in the absence of other factors, like a crescendo on the long note). But Downs’ definition would classify this as a single unit, ignoring the long IOI. Figure 1–7. One phrase or two? (Parker, “Cosmic Rays,” mm. 1–4) {25}

Downs’ definition also fails to explain whether or how small segments might be grouped together into larger segments. Consider figure 1–8, from Rollins’s “Valse Hot.” As defined by rests alone, this excerpt has four phrases, labeled A through D. Motivic parallelism and meter suggest the following grouping: AB / CD. Segments A and C end with the same motive: a descending third on a downbeat. Segments B and D provide parallel answers to A and C: a set of eighth-notes initiated with a downward skip across a barline. There are two levels of grouping structure: the lettered segments, and the pairs of segments. The hypermetrical structure also supports this interpretation: each pair of phrases occupies a two-bar hypermeasure. (Four-bar hypermeasures are shown with double-bars; measure 6 is the first measure of a four-bar hypermeasure.) Figure 1–8. What are the second-level groups? (Rollins, “Valse Hot,” mm. 5–10) {34}

A

B

C

D

The naïve application of Downs’ definition does not adequately reflect these phrases’ relationships. (Naïve application is appropriate, since the definition is intended for a computer.) Segment A is 2.5 beats long, so Downs would correctly group it with segment B. But Downs does not describe phrase structure as hierarchical, so once segment B is grouped with A, it loses its identity altogether. Segment C, like segment A, is too short to stand alone; but which adjacent segment should it be grouped with? Downs does not explain how to deal with such situations.


As these examples show, no theorist has yet tackled jazz phrase rhythm in depth, though many appear aware of the issue. On the other hand, pedagogical works purporting to teach jazz improvisation neglect all discussion of phrase rhythm (beyond the trivial advice that phrase length be varied). Instead, these works are pitch-obsessed: catalogs of scales, chord voicings, substitutions, intervallic motives, and so forth. The simple question of when to begin and end one’s phrases is left unaddressed. Budding improvisers must develop an intuitive sense for this aspect of jazz. Schenkerian analysis has proven very effective at analyzing improvised melodies. It can point out a melody’s internal connections, as well as connections between the melody and the scheme. Jazz performance practice—specifically, the cyclic repetition of a relatively short harmonic scheme—requires many modifications to the Schenkerian method. Martin (1996) writes, “In jazz the background as a concept is best applied, usually, to a single strophe or chorus” (31). Analyses tend to focus on the foreground and shallow middleground. Despite this limitation, according to Larson, “The clearest view of the nature of jazz improvisation seems to flow from an essentially Schenkerian approach” (1999: 286). Larson believes that Schenkerian analysis reveals how improvised melodies are “based on the underlying voiceleading strands of the theme” (ibid.). He denies the distinction between improvisation based on schematic melody and schematic harmony: underlying voice-leading determines both. Elsewhere, Larson emphasizes the hidden resemblances between melody and scheme: “I now understand improvisation as the real-time yet pre-heard…choice among possible paths that elaborate a pre-existing structure, using familiar patterns and their familiar combinations and embellishments” (2005: 272). The goal of this approach is clear: show how the melody derives from the scheme’s underlying voice-leading. In classical music, Rothstein, Schachter, and others have used Schenker to analyze phrase rhythm. This approach is effective because in classical music, tonal structure and grouping structure control hypermeter. Thus, Schenkerian insights into tonal structure clarify grouping structure and hypermeter. But in jazz, since grouping structure is no longer tied to tonal structure or hypermeter, Schenkerian analysis is less effective as a tool for analyzing phrase rhythm: this method must, by definition, give more weight to tonal structure than to surface


grouping structure. Within a Schenkerian graph, there is no notation for rests or groups.27 The linear continuity depicted in a Schenkerian graph overrules grouping structure. Larson admits as much: “The unity of linear progressions is not broken by the silence that intervenes [between phrases]” (1996A: 152). Schenkerian analyses make no distinction between connections across groups and those within groups. I agree that audible linear connections can persist across rests, hypermetrical downbeats, and even passages of unrelated melodic material. But in order to highlight these connections, the Schenkerian approach is necessarily insensitive to the grouping structure suggested by rests, hypermetrical downbeats, and other features. The grouping structure of an example might subtly influence the Schenkerian analysis; but if such an analysis is forced to choose between showing a linear connection and showing grouping structure, it will surely show the former. The voice-leading structure in a Schenkerian analysis does not imply any particular grouping structure: the same voice-leading structure can derive from melodies with radically different surface grouping structures. In other words, a voice-leading analysis erases an important component of these melodies. I repeat: this problem is not nearly so significant in classical music, where tonal structure and grouping structure are intertwined. But in jazz, where they are not, the choice between depicting one or the other has much more consequence. Figure 1–9, adapted from Larson 1996A, will clarify my meaning. Based on rests, I have divided the passage into five segments, labeled A through F. Larson says that there is a descending “fifth-progression” in measures 1 to 2, made of the constituent thirds D–C–B (m. 1) and Bb–A–G (m. 2) (141). He points out a similar fifth-progression in measures 10 to 13: Db and C in measure 10, B and A in measure 11, and G on the downbeat of 13. (Larson realizes that normally, a descending fifth-progression prolongs tonic, but this one ends on the harmony ii7. He says, “The fifth-progression of measures 10–13 belongs to the tonic prolongation of measures 9–12, but the last note of this progression is delayed until measure 13 with a pattern that is common in Parker’s improvisations” (154).) I am not disputing these claims, but I think this provides an incomplete account of improvised melody. I have laid out the figure to make the schematic metrical structure more apparent. The excerpt as a whole comprises two eight-bar hypermeasures, each occupying two Larson’s own “strict use” Schenkerian analyses include no indication for rests or grouping boundaries (1996B). 27


systems. There is one four-bar hypermeasure in each system; the four-bar downbeats are therefore in measures 1, 5, 9, and 13. Two-bar downbeats occur halfway through each system. As I mention above, Larson describes the phrase rhythm of the opening eight measures as “4+2+2,” saying that the two shorter segments “press forward” (154). To build on Larson’s description, I would say that segment A occupies the first hypermeasure without overlapping its downbeat. Instead, the strongest metrical accent that it overlaps is the two-bar downbeat of measure 3. The first fifth-progression identified by Larson takes place entirely within segment A. Segments B and C each occupy a two-bar hypermeasure. In parallel with segment A, these segments do not overlap the downbeats of the hypermeasures they occupy (the downbeats of measures 5 and 7). Figure 1–9. Voice-leading vs. grouping. (Parker, “Oh, Lady Be Good,” mm. 1–16, A

adapted from Larson 1996A: ex. 1, p. 142)

B

C

D

E

F

Segment D is the first segment in the solo that overlaps a four-bar downbeat; it occupies a two-bar hypermeasure. Such a segment demands a two-bar answer, resulting in a pair of segments. Segment E is this answer; but it goes on slightly longer than necessary, overlapping


the downbeat of the next hypermeasure. It is “end-accented.” Together, segments D and E form the arrangement “2+2.” Larson “hear[s] [segment F] as rhetorically parenthetical” (154). I would counter that segment F balances segment A, and is necessary to fill the remainder of the sixteen-bar unit. Segments A and F both occupy a four-bar hypermeasure without overlapping a four-bar downbeat. Overall, measures 9 to 16 reverse the 4+2+2 structure that Larson identified in the first eight measures, instead forming the structure 2+2+4. The structure is somewhat obscured by the end-accentuation of segment E, but I believe it remains intact. The second fifth-progression observed by Larson (mm. 10–13) stretches from the end of segment D until the end of segment E. In terms of both grouping structure and hypermeter, it is very different from the fifth-progression he identifies in segment A: it terminates on a fourbar downbeat, and the rest between the segments delays the motion from scale degree 4, an unstable tone, to scale degree 3; no such delay occurs in the fifth-progression within segment A. As I wrote above, “The same voice-leading structure can derive from melodies with radically different surface grouping structures.” It is not merely that I like to point out differences while Larson likes to point out similarities. We are examining different aspects of the music. Consider that the converse is self-evidently true: two passages with the same grouping structure can derive from radically different voice-leading structures. In this way, I am equally insensitive to a key aspect of the music. In the next chapter, I develop this approach into a systematic theory. I believe my theory and the Schenkerian approach are complementary. The fullest understanding of jazz melody comes from consideration of both. Having said that, I must acknowledge that in the following chapters, I spend little time on voice-leading and linear connections such as those observed in figure 1–9. This is not because I think such features are unimportant, but because I have chosen to devote my full attention to phrase rhythm. At times, I will explicitly invoke voiceleading to support a phrase rhythm analysis. However, I find that other factors, especially rests, are far more important in establishing grouping structure (just as Larson would probably acknowledge that tonal connections trump rests in a Schenkerian analysis). As Yeston puts it, “A theory written today need not absolutely refute its predecessors if it asks questions that others have not considered or if it is applicable to a style of music that others could not have known” (1974: 4).

36

Chapter 2: The Analytical Method It is impossible to discuss any musical domain, including phrase rhythm, without a shared vocabulary of concepts for that domain. Theorists today would find it extremely difficult to discuss harmony without a shared understanding of the triad, diatonic scale, and tonality. I have criticized previous authors’ discussions of phrase rhythm as imprecise and unsystematic. These faults stem from the general lack of a conceptual vocabulary for jazz phrase rhythm, beyond perhaps an intuitive notion of a “phrase” as a self-contained unit of melody. The primary goal of this chapter is to furnish such a conceptual vocabulary. The counterpart to this conceptual foundation is its application to actual music, demonstrated in Part II. While I define the concepts as precisely as possible, they are flexible in their application. Ambiguous cases inevitably arise, and often provide the greatest analytical (and aural) interest. Phrase-rhythm analyses falls into two categories: descriptions of the unique aspects of a single performance, chorus, or phrase; and conclusions about phrase rhythm within the works of a single musician, style, or period. Part II offers samples of both, with an emphasis on the former. The analyses are not intended as claims about how an experienced listener or performer understands phrase rhythm (consciously or unconsciously), or about the “right” way to hear phrase rhythm. While I draw on theories grounded in cognition, especially metrical theories and theories of segmentation, I posit my method as one approach to phrase rhythm among many possible approaches (albeit an approach that I find especially edifying as a listener and performer).28 Each analysis represents a way of hearing the phrase rhythm that I find both aurally and logically defensible.

Temperley (1999A) contrasts two theoretical approaches, descriptive and suggestive, where the former attempts to describe unconscious listener processes and the latter offers possible ways of hearing music. Music cognition fits most comfortably in the former category, while 12-tone theory fits squarely in the latter. My approach is suggestive, but influenced by descriptive theories. 28

Chapter 2: The Analytical Method 37

Preliminaries

Jazz analysis often makes use of notated transcriptions. I employ transcriptions only as a shorthand for recordings, never a replacement. Therefore, it is best to consider each analysis alongside the corresponding recording. Sometimes the transcription alone does not provide enough information to understand the analysis. Subtleties of articulation can affect the analyses, particularly in cases of ambiguous grouping structure. When necessary, I refer to such effects in the accompanying prose. I use a simple numerical code to designate metrical locations. When referring to a location within a four-bar hypermeasure—the unit to which “hypermeasure” refers, unless otherwise noted—Roman numerals designate the measure, Arabic numerals the beat, with eighth-note beats shown by “.5”. For example: II.3 refers to bar two of a hypermeasure, beat three; IV.1.5 refers to bar four, beat one-and; and so forth. Arabic numerals designate metrical locations in a longer transcription: 41.3 means measure 41, beat three; 22.2.5 means measure 22, beat twoand; and so forth. In excerpts, when practical, I show one hypermeasure per line, such that the first downbeat of a line is the downbeat of a four-bar hypermeasure (a “four-bar downbeat”) and the third downbeat is the downbeat of a two-bar hypermeasure (a “two-bar downbeat”). When the hypermeter is potentially unclear, I use double-bars to indicate the beginnings and ends of hypermeasures. The analytical method has three components: segmentation, prosody, and phrase classification.

Segmentation: Four Factors

Segmentation is the division of the melody into discrete segments. Prior to segmentation, the melodic surface may be considered as an uninterrupted stream of notes and rests. Four main factors govern the process of segmentation; the analyst must balance their influence. As I mention above, the enumeration of these factors should not be construed as a claim that they operate unconsciously in the experienced listener (though they might). They are best viewed as strategies to shape the listener’s understanding of grouping structure. In this section, I discuss how the factors determine the lowest level of grouping structure: the shortest discrete segments


of the melody. Later in the chapter, I explain how these low-level segments form larger segments in a hierarchical grouping structure. I list the factors in order of importance. Factor 1: Inter-onset interval (IOI). Inter-onset interval is the metrical distance between consecutive attacks. Relatively long IOI suggests a grouping boundary. This factor is significantly stronger than all other factors. IOI is contextual: in a phrase constructed of halfnotes, an IOI greater than a half-note is necessary to suggest a grouping boundary, while a quarter-note IOI might signal a boundary in an environment of eighth-notes. In figure 2–1, long IOIs, with and without rests, divide the first eight measures of “Cosmic Rays” into four segments, labeled A through D. Rests strengthen the divisive effect of a relatively long IOI, but are not strictly necessary. Figure 2–1. Segmentation factor 1: IOI. (Parker, “Cosmic Rays,” mm. 1–8) {25} A

C

B

D

Factor 2: Strong downbeat. A strong (hypermetrical) downbeat encourages the placement of a grouping boundary at the latest plausible point before the beat (typically a relatively long IOI within the measure before the strong beat); the closer the plausible boundary is to the strong downbeat, and the stronger the downbeat, the greater the influence. In figure 2–2, factor 2 strengthens the grouping boundary in measure 12. The four-bar downbeat (beat 13.1) encourages the placement of a boundary somewhere in the preceding music—here, after beat 12.2. This boundary is further supported by the large melodic interval between the notes on either side (see factor 3 below). The influence of a strong beat extends backwards from the moment of the beat; at the very latest, a strong beat encourages placement of a boundary just before the strong beat, so that a new phrase begins at the moment of the strong beat. The influence of strong beats is backwards in time only—strong beats do not encourage hearing grouping boundaries in locations after the strong beat. This is for two reasons. First, I understand meter as essentially forward-looking, based on the anticipatory model described in the previous chapter. As soon as a strong beat arrives, one begins expecting the arrival of the


next strong beat. Therefore, if a plausible point of phrase-division occurs after a strong beat, one will not look back to the strong beat for further support. Second, the normative phrase in jazz is beginning-accented. The notion that strong beats imply phrase divisions at or just before the strong beat encourages the hearing of beginning-accented phrases, phrases that overlap a strong beat early on. Figure 2–2. Segmentation factor 2: strong beat. (Brown, “Joy Spring,” mm. 9–16) {2}

The accentual orientation of the normative phrase in classical music is a point of contention. On the side of normative beginning-accentuation are Lerdahl and Jackendoff (1983: 76), Rothstein (1989: 28–29), and Schachter (1980: 205). Cooper and Meyer (1960: 61) and Komar (1971: 151, 155) take the opposite view: they believe the weight of the cadence, the structural goal of the tonal phrase, makes the normative phrase end-accented. Meanwhile, Cone believes phrase beginnings and endings have accentual strength, while one or the other can be stronger in an individual case (1968: 27). Lester similarly argues that “cadences are by nature neither metrically accented nor metrically unaccented [if a phrase is beginning-accented its cadence is unaccented]…Their accentual status is created by context” (1986: 177). In general, I think each author’s point of view depends on how much independence he grants to hypermeter. Authors who favor the norm of beginning-accentuation always acknowledge the importance of the cadence, but treat it as an aspect of the music that is not bound to hypermeter: Lerdahl and Jackendoff assign the cadence a “structural accent,” which need not align with a metrical accent; Schachter and Rothstein take a Schenkerian approach, which naturally assigns the cadence great importance, as the terminus of a linear progression. On the other hand, Cone and Cooper/Meyer lump together several types of “accent,” and it is not clear that they are referring to metrical accents when they claim the normative phrase has an accent at the cadence. To them, hypermeter does not seem to be an independent attribute of


the phrase. Lester (1986) appears unwilling to tolerate much dissonance between phenomenal accents and hypermetrical accents (consider pp. 177–181), so his hypermeter never possesses much independence from the musical surface. Only Komar is unequivocal about the metrical end-accentedness of the normative phrase, in direct opposition to Lerdahl et al. I have argued that hypermeter in jazz, once established, has complete independence from grouping structure, and is dictated only by the scheme. It is thus not surprising that I favor the norm of beginning-accentuation, in alignment with others who believe in hypermeter’s independence. This is not to say that beginning-accented phrases are the most common, statistically (although I believe they are). I am only arguing that beginning-accented phrases line up with the meter more closely than other types. I consider the metrical structure itself to be beginning-accented, because I hear each metrical time-span as extending from a given beat to just before the next beat at that level.29 Below, I introduce the concepts of metrical consonance and dissonance to describe the relationship of grouping and meter. Because of this norm, endaccentuation is more dissonant than beginning-accentuation. Factor 3: Large melodic interval. A relatively large melodic interval encourages the placement of a grouping boundary, as mentioned in connection with the boundary in figure 2–2 above. Factor 4: Change in motive. A change in motive encourages the placement of a grouping boundary; conversely, continuity of motive has the opposite effect. This factor is weak in isolation, but can augment other factors. Three factors contribute to the grouping boundary indicated in figure 2–3: IOI, strong beat, and motive. Considering IOI alone, segment B might plausibly be grouped with segment C: the IOI before segment B is much greater than that which follows. Beat 25.1, however, encourages a boundary after segment B rather than before, to place the boundary closer to the four-bar downbeat. Evans’s abandonment of the ascendingthird motive after segment B further suggests a grouping boundary. (An increase in dynamic level at segment C, not shown in the transcription, also strengthens the boundary.) The term “motive” is subject to many possible definitions.30 I adopt a relatively narrow one. Motives must be:

The impression of beginning-accented phrases as normative is further reinforced by the grouping structure of most jazz themes, which tend to employ beginning-accented phrases. 30 Gunther Schuller (1958) was the first to use the term “motive” in jazz analysis. He does not define the term precisely, but many of the motives he identifies fit my definition. 29


1. Short, generally three beats or less in length; 2. Contextually distinct, because of rhythm, intervallic content, or surrounding rests; 3. Repeated at least once (that is, appear at least twice). The motive in figure 2–3 is a clear example: it is quite short, it has a distinct profile (ascending third in triplet rhythm), it is isolated by rests, and it appears six times in succession (including the motion from Bb to Db in measure 23, a transposition of the same motive). Figure 2–3. Segmentation factor 5: motive. (Evans, “How Deep Is the Ocean?” mm. 21–29) {11}

A

B

C

D How Deep Is The Ocean (How High Is The Sky) Words and Music by Irving Berlin Copyright © 1932 Irving Berlin Copyright Renewed International Copyright Secured All Rights Reserved

On the other hand, I would say the circled figure in figure 2–4 is not a motive at all. While it is relatively short, and appears three times, it is not sufficiently distinct from its context to qualify. Clifford Brown’s entire solo is dominated by eighth-notes, so the figure’s rhythm is indistinct. The figure appears in three different places relative to the grouping boundaries: once at the end of a phrase, once in the middle, and once at the beginning; consistent placement within each phrase would have created a greater impression of parallelism between appearances of the figure. Melodically, it is made up of an ascending scale followed by a double-neighbor approach to a goal tone. But these basic figures—ascending scales and double-neighbor approaches—are ubiquitous in the solo (and in the melodic language of bebopderived jazz). They do not distinguish the motive. Furthermore, to preserve the motive’s exact melodic profile requires an unintuitive segmentation of the melodic surface: in its second appearance, the “motive” begins in the middle of a long scalar ascent, and its first note does


not stand out in any way. Thus, I would argue that the “motive” is just an accidental consequence of Brown’s reliance on several basic fragments of melodic vocabulary, including scales, neighbor tones, and arpeggios.31 In the language of jazz scholarship, these are formulas.32 Figure 2–4. A formula, not a motive. (Brown, “I’ll Remember April,” mm. 90–98) {4}

A formula can become a motive through repetition or unusual prominence. Figure 2–5 shows one such case. An ascending arpeggio appears as a formula in many improvised melodies. But because it occurs so regularly in measures 59 to 62, it attains the prominence of a motive, and helps to create unity across the brief rest in measure 60. (This passage is discussed more fully in chapter 3.) As is usual with fuzzy categories like “motive,” there are cases that straddle the line between formula and motive. In general, I have a high threshold for motive identification, and I tend to discount ambiguous cases. As befits the metrical focus of this dissertation, I favor motives that are repeated in metrically similar ways—for example, each instance of a motive might begin on beat 3—as I think this contributes a great deal to their salience.

This is not to say that it is impossible to hear a connection between the three circled areas of figure 2–4. Rather, I do not believe the similarities between these passages are sufficient to make them relevant for phrase-rhythm or motivic analysis. 32 Owens (1974) and Smith (1983) were the first to present extensive lists of melodic formulas, for Charlie Parker and Bill Evans respectively, advancing the thesis that a vocabulary of stock melodic figures is one means by which jazz improvisers produce original melodies at great speed with little apparent effort. 31


Figure 2–5. A formula becomes a motive through repetition. (Powell, “Wail,” mm. 57-64) {28}33

This list of four segmentation factors is not comprehensive. Even in the course of presenting them, I have referred to other factors like dynamics. I will invoke less-common factors where necessary in the analyses that follow. David Temperley generalizes grouping factors across many categories: “An interval value in some parameter tends to be a grouping boundary if it is a local maximum, that is, if it is larger than the values of intervals on either side” (2001: 61). A change in any musical variable can affect how grouping structure is heard. The grouping factors variously support or contradict one another. Several examples will illustrate their interaction. In figure 2–6A, IOI and strong beat support the highlighted grouping division, while continuity of motive and a small melodic interval contradict it. The former factors outweigh the latter. The same factors weigh into figure 2–6B, with the same outcome: IOI and strong beat support the division, while a single figuration unites the melody on either side (ascending thirds). This connection does not outweigh the divisive factors. In figure 2–6C, however, strong beat alone is not enough to create a boundary at the highlighted location. Continuity of motive and relatively uniform IOI combine to unify the segment across beat 53.1. Such conflicts do not figure into my analytical markings, but I mention them in the accompanying prose when significant.

33

Copyright information accompanies the complete transcription, in Appendix B.


Figure 2–6. Conflicts among grouping factors. 2–6A. Brown, “Joy Spring,” mm. 33–40. {2}

2–6B. Evans, “Solar,” mm. 41–48. {13}

Solar By Miles Davis Copyright © 1963 Prestige Music Copyright Renewed International Copyright Secured All Rights Reserved

2–6C. Evans, “How Deep Is the Ocean?” mm. 49–56. {11}

How Deep Is The Ocean (How High Is The Sky) Words and Music by Irving Berlin Copyright © 1932 Irving Berlin Copyright Renewed International Copyright Secured All Rights Reserved


Dora Hanninen (2001) presents a “general theory of segmentation” based on the influence of three “domains”: “sonic,” the “psychoacoustic attributes of individual soundevents”; “contextual,” entailing attention to “similarities among groups of sound-events”; and “structural,” the domain concerned strictly with the relationship between music and abstract systems like twelve-tone theory or Schenkerian theory (353–355). (Her concern is with posttonal music, a style in which segmentation is generally far more difficult than in jazz.) Hanninen’s view has many intersections with my own: IOI and melodic interval are evidently sonic factors, while motive is contextual. “Strong beat” is harder to pinpoint, however. It might appear to be structural: an assessment of the relationship between the improvised melody and the abstract, theoretical meter. But inasmuch as meter is intuitively perceptible, “strong beat” might instead be considered a feature of the sonic domain: the listener can directly perceive the proximity of a possible point of division to an upcoming strong beat. Within Hanninen’s theory, attention to each domain “presumes a distinct orientation to music analysis” (355). Sonic factors tend to be “disjunctive,” encouraging one to hear events as members of distinct groups. This fits with my assessment of IOI, strong beat, and melodic interval as disjunctive factors: they all have the potential to create boundaries. The contextual factors of motive and length, on the other hand, unite musical events: sets of events containing the same motive tend to be single groups. This matches Hanninen’s view that the contextual domain implies an “associative” orientation. Structural factors, which imply a top-down “analytical” orientation, come into play later in the chapter, after I introduce the hierarchical system of segments.

Prosody

After segmentation has taken place, the identification of a segment’s metrical-accentual pattern (prosody) is relatively straightforward. Melodic segments overlap downbeats of varying accentual strength, which I indicate with the numbers [1] (downbeat), [2] (two-bar downbeat), and [4] (four-bar downbeat). In figure 2–6B above, the segment in measures 45 to 47 overlaps a downbeat (beat 46.1) and a two-bar downbeat (beat 47.1): the prosody is therefore [12] (pronounced “one-two”). In 2–6A, the segment in measures 36 (after the arrow) to 38 overlaps a four-bar downbeat and a one-bar downbeat: prosody [41] (“four-one”). The first of these


segments is end-accented, the second, beginning-accented. The pattern of metrical accents that a segment overlaps depends entirely on the segment’s placement within the scheme. If the segment in figure 2–6B occurred one measure later in the scheme, it would have the prosody [21]; under the same shift, the prosody of the segment in figure 2–6A would be [12]. Each pattern of accentuation uniquely colors a segment, such that the same segment in a different metrical context would sound differently. At the most basic level, the segment’s strongest metrical accent acts as a center of gravity, defining the phrase as end-, beginning-, or middle-accented.34 There does not need to be an attack on the overlapped downbeats; the segment only needs to surround them with an attack on both sides. Crucially, downbeats overlapped by a held final note do not count towards its prosody. For example, in figure 2–3 above, the prosody of segment C is only [4], not [41], even though the final Eb is held to overlap beat 26.1. In all schemes with consistent four-bar hypermeasures, the downbeat accents form the repeated pattern [4121]. Even though some four-bar downbeats are also eight- or sixteen-bar downbeats, I ignore these levels, for several reasons: to simplify the theory, to highlight the four-bar level, and because of the qualitative difference between a four-bar and eight-bar downbeat (the latter tends to sound formal rather than metrical). Therefore, every phrase of sufficient length overlaps some segment of the continuous pattern […41214121…].35

The pattern of metrical accents within a segment is similar to phrase prosody as described by Cooper and Meyer (1960). Cooper and Meyer define segments as beginning-, middle-, or endaccented and name these patterns after poetic feet. They have been criticized for confusing different types of accent in their analyses and for attributing accents to time-spans rather than beats. The accents shown by my theory’s patterns are strictly metrical, eliminating this problem. 35 Given a duple metrical hierarchy at all levels, as in the common thirty-two-bar scheme, the recurring pattern [4121] also characterizes the accents at any metrical level, where the [4] indicates a beat at the level two levels higher. One can shift one’s perspective depending on the analytical goals. For example, in figure 2–3, the prosody of segment A, [2], can be specified further by shifting perspective from the measure-level—the level at which the pattern [4121] characterizes the relative strength of successive downbeats—to the half-note level, at which the pattern characterizes successive half-note accents (and at which [4] represents a two-bar downbeat). At this level, the prosody of segment A is [41]: it overlaps a two-bar downbeat and then a half-note beat. As a consequence of this shift, one loses the distinction between two-bar and four-bar downbeats: both count as [4]. In parallel fashion, the downbeat-level prosody is insensitive to the distinction between four-bar and eight-bar downbeats. Throughout this dissertation, I focus on downbeat-level prosody, but there is nothing unique about this level. 34


It is not necessary to list every downbeat that a phrase overlaps. Prosodic notation may be shortened without ambiguity, and in a way that highlights the segment’s accentual center of gravity. The shorthand is simple: omit any downbeats that have stronger downbeats on both sides. Figure 2–7 illustrates the shorthand by example. Figure 2–7. The short form of prosodic notation. The pattern…

[4(1)21]

[4(1)2]

[12(1)4]

[2(1)41]

[4(121)4]

[4(121)41]

[121]

Becomes…

[421]

[42]

[124]

[241]

[44]

[441]

[121]

Dashes appearing before or after the full set of numbers indicate material before or after the downbeat, overlapping an additional half-note beat or more. In figure 2–1, segment A begins three beats before beat 2.1, so its complete prosodic notation would be [-1], with the initial dash representing the initial half-note beat. Segment B extends more than two beats beyond its last downbeat, so its complete prosody would be shown as [2-]. Figure 2–8 contains two phrases whose final attacks come just before downbeats. By the above description, the prosody of segment A would be [-], since it does not overlap any downbeats. The prosody of segment B would be [-1-], since the only downbeat it overlaps is beat 8.1. However, both of the phrases end on beat 4.5 of the measure. In the case of phrase B, the final note even anticipates the harmonic resolution of the following measure. Phrase-endings on beat 4.5 are incredibly common in jazz, and lead to a question about prosody: does the anticipated downbeat contribute to the prosody, even though it is not strictly overlapped by the segment? Do segments A and B sound end-accented, in a way their prosody ought to reflect? Figure 2–8. Accent borrowing. (Brown, “Joy Spring,” mm. 5–12) {2}

A

B

Discussing a similar phenomenon in rock music, Temperley argues that the “logical explanation is that the syncopated [anticipatory] beats are understood as occurring on the


following beat” (1999B: 33).36 I believe that in most cases, the final note of such phrases in jazz “borrows” the accent of following downbeat, and as far as prosody goes, they should be treated as though they overlap the downbeat that they anticipate.37 When the final note anticipates the following harmony, as in phrase B, this effect is quite pronounced. Therefore, in figure 2–8, the prosody of phrase A is [-2], and the prosody of phrase B is [-14]. These notations indicate that these phrases do indeed sound end-accented, even though they do not literally overlap the downbeats indicated by their prosody. (One might argue that the final accent of these phrases is phenomenal, not metrical, and that I am conflating accent-types by incorporating these accents into the prosody; I would counter that the phenomenal accent at the end of such phrases borrows the weight of the metrical accent that follows.) The “swing” articulation typical of jazz eighth-notes heightens the accent-borrowing effect. Eighth-note “swing” depends on several factors: the second of each pair of eighth notes is often shorter and louder than the first, separated from the first, and slurred into the following note.38 These effects are shown in figure 2–9. They encourage an attack on beat 4.5 to be heard as an anticipation of the following downbeat, rather than as a tail to beat 4.0. Figure 2–9. Effects characteristic of swing articulation of 8th-notes.

= The final judgment of whether a particular phrase-ending borrows the following metrical accent depends on the balancing of several factors. Figure 2–10 shows a phrase in which the final attack does not borrow the accent of the following downbeat, though it occurs on beat 4.5 (mm. 17–19). This is because final G is a registral low point, does not imply a harmonic change, and receives no dynamic stress.

Temperley’s analyses are further informed by poetic stress, as he is analyzing music with lyrics. 37 A view supported by Temperley in personal correspondence. 38 Figure 2–9 presents a simplistic picture of an incredibly rich phenomenon: “swing” eighthnotes may be played in countless ways. Benadon 2006 provides a fuller treatment. 36


Figure 2–10. No borrowed accent. (Evans, “How Deep Is the Ocean?” mm. 17–20) {11}


Phrase Types

The picture of jazz melody becomes a great deal more interesting when the segments at the lowest level are grouped into larger segments, forming a hierarchic grouping structure. I envision this structure in parallel with the metrical structure. The scheme presents the improviser with a hierarchy of metrical time-spans, which it is the function of the melody to occupy. Figure 2–11 presents an abstract diagram of the time-spans relevant to my theory, from the one-measure to the eight-measure level, and the phrase-type associated with each. Across the top of the figure, bracketed numbers indicate the locations of beats at various metrical levels, which are dictated in advance by the scheme. The figure assumes consistent eight-bar hypermeasures, as are typical of thirty-two-bar schemes. (The eight-bar level is also the highest level that I routinely discuss.) Figure 2–11. Metrical time-spans and associated phrase-types. [8] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [8] [ [

8-phrase 4 - p h r a s e ][

]

4-phrase ]

[ 2-phr. ][ 2-phr. ][ 2-phr. ][ 2-phr. ] [ 1 ][ 1 ][ 1 ][ 1 ][ 1 ][ 1 ][ 1 ][ 1 ] The 4-phrase level is primary. A 4-phrase is any discrete segment or collection of segments that occupies—that is, fills and “belongs to”—a four-bar hypermeasure. Similarly, a 2-phrase occupies a two-bar hypermeasure, a 1-phrase occupies one measure, and an 8-phrase occupies an eight-bar hypermeasure. The system is hierarchical: a series of eight one-measure phrases, within a single eight-bar hypermeasure, are not only a set of eight 1-phrases, but also four 2-


phrases, two 4-phrases, and a single 8-phrase. This is because each pair of 1-phrases occupies a two-bar hypermeasure, and so can be understood at a larger level as a 2-phrase; each pair of 2phrases in turn occupies a four-bar hypermeasure, and so can be understood as a 4-phrase; and so forth. I must emphasize that these labels do not strictly correspond to a phrase’s metrical length. Though a 4-phrase occupies a four-bar hypermeasure, it can span anywhere from two to six measures. Conversely, not every segment four measures in length is a 4-phrase. The occupation of a time-span is a functional designation, a description of the phrase’s job relative to the schematic meter. In general, a phrase of a given type must be more or less coextensive with the metrical time-span designated by its name. So a 4-phrase must begin at or near the beginning of a hypermeasure and end at or near the ending of the same hypermeasure. A discrete segment four measures long, but which is significantly offset from the hypermeter, is not a 4-phrase. An undivided 4-phrase occupies a single hypermeasure without any internal points of division. In beginning-accented form, the 4-phrase overlaps one four-bar downbeat at or near its beginning. Figure 2–12A shows a prototypical beginning-accented 4-phrase (prosody [421-]), and its square brackets. Figure 2–12B shows another beginning-accented 4-phrase. Despite its anacrusis and truncated ending, this phrase serves to occupy a hypermeasure, just like the one in figure 2–12A. (I use the term “anacrusis” for any portion of a beginning-accented 4-phrase before the hypermetrical downbeat.) Compare the notation accompanying these two phrases: the brackets show their common type, while the prosody, shown in boxes above each segment, reflects their difference. Figure 2–12. The beginning-accented 4-phrase. 2–12A. Parker, “Now’s the Time,” mm. 1–4. {27} 421-


2–12B. Parker, “Moose the Mooche,” mm. 17–24. {18}

-42-

An end-accented 4-phrase overlaps one four-bar downbeat at or near its end. Figure 2–13A shows a typical example (prosody [-124]), along with its characteristic dotted square brackets. In general, square brackets indicate 4-phrase beginnings and endings. Solid or dotted lines indicate the location within the hypermeasure where the 4-phrase begins and ends. Like beginning-accented 4-phrases, end-accented 4-phrases can take a variety of forms without losing their identity. Figure 2–13B shows an end-accented phrase with a truncated beginning and a short tail—modifications analogous to those illustrated in figure 2–12B, relative to 2–12A. (I use the term “tail” for any portion of an end-accented phrase after the final hypermetrical downbeat.) Just as in figure 2–12, the brackets in figure 2–13 show common type while the prosody reveals differences. Notice that the phrase in 2–13B follows another phrase that has ended in the first bar of a hypermeasure—another end-accented phrase. It is common for endaccented phrases to occur successively: the end-accentuation of one phrase forces the following phrase to begin late, which makes it prone to end late.39 At a minimum, beginning- and end-accented 4-phrases must also overlap a two-bar downbeat, or else the hypermeasure is insufficiently filled. (In other words, they must have at least the prosody [42] or [24].) In figure 2–14, the phrase in measures 100 to 102 is not a beginning-accented 4-phrase: its prosody is only [41]. (It is actually a beginning-accented 2phrase, as discussed below.) If the hypermeasure contained no other material, it would be incompletely occupied.

39

Temperley (2003) discusses a similar phenomenon in classical music, common in codas.


Figure 2–13. The end-accented 4-phrase 2–13A. Rollins, “St. Thomas,” mm. 82–109. {33} -124

St. Thomas By Sonny Rollins Copyright © 1963 Prestige Music Copyright Renewed International Copyright Secured All Rights Reserved

2–13B. Rollins, “Moritat,” mm. 57–64. {32} -24-

Figure 2–14. Not a 4-phrase. (Rollins, “Airegin,” mm. 97–104 {29})

The solid-square brackets do not strictly mean “beginning-accented 4-phrase,” nor do the dotted square brackets mean “end-accented 4-phrase.” Rather, their precise meanings may be summarized as follows:


•

Square bracket: boundary of a 4-phrase o

o

Beginning bracket: 

Solid: before beat I.1 of the four-bar hypermeasure in question.



Dotted: after beat I.1.

Ending bracket: 

Solid: before beat I.1 of the next hypermeasure.



Dotted: after beat I.1 of the next hypermeasure.

Figure 2–15 shows a hypermeasure, set off by double-bars, and one measure before and after. Based on these rules, I have plotted a (non-exhaustive) range of possible locations where the different brackets could appear. Figure 2–15. Where to place 4-phrase brackets: solid v. dotted.

Figure 2–15 aids the interpretation of 4-phrases that depart from the two types introduced so far. These departures fall into two categories. Figure 2–16 shows three instances of a 4phrase that begins after beat I.1, as though end-accented, but ends before the following hypermeasure, as though beginning-accented. I call such phrases un-accented, since they overlap no four-bar downbeat. (They overlap some metrical accents, but none at the four-bar level.) Such phrases are still 4-phrases because they serve to occupy a complete hypermeasure. The brackets of these phrases reflect the location of their beginnings and endings, as described above. Since the beginning of such a phrase occurs after a four-bar downbeat, it is marked with a dotted bracket; since the end occurs before a four-bar downbeat, it takes a solid bracket. This example should make it clear that a brackets do not necessarily show the accentuation of a phrase, only the metrical location of the beginning or ending. The phrase in figure 2–16A resembles a beginning-accented 4-phrase whose beginning has been cut off. (The first note shown in the figure is the end of the previous phrase.) The phrase in figure 2–16B is quite short, but the long rest on either side, and its placement in the middle of the hypermeasure, grant it 4-phrase status. 2–16C shows an un-accented phrase placed slightly later in the hypermeasure. Notice that all of these examples overlap, at the minimum,


the two-bar downbeat in the middle of the hypermeasure. This is essential to their identity as 4phrases. Figure 2–16. Some un-accented 4-phrases. 2–16A. Parker, “Kim No. 2,” mm. 13–16. {26} -12-

2–16B. Rollins, “Airegin,” mm. 25–28. {29} 12-

2–16C. Rollins, “Airegin,” mm. 73–76. {29} -21-

I mentioned that end-accented phrases commonly come in a series. Un-accented phrases often follow end-accented phrases, because they are necessary to mediate between end-accented and beginning-accented 4-phrases. Consider: an end-accented 4-phrase cannot be followed immediately by a beginning-accented 4-phrase, since the first phrase already overlaps the hypermetrical downbeat with which the beginning-accented 4-phrase would have to begin. An un-accented phrase must come between such phrases. Less often, 4-phrases begin and end by overlapping a four-bar downbeat. Such phrases must, at a minimum, overlap a complete hypermeasure plus the downbeat of the next hypermeasure, with prosody [44]. I call these phrases double-accented. Figure 2–17 shows a textbook double-accented 4-phrase. In measure 13, Evans seems to extend a beginning-accented 4-phrase beyond its natural ending and carries it into the next hypermeasure. The phrase begins and ends with an overlapped four-bar downbeat, and has no clear center of accentual gravity. The solid beginning-bracket shows the placement of the beginning before a four-bar downbeat, and the dotted ending-bracket shows the placement of the ending shortly after a four-bar downbeat—the opposite of the un-accented phrase.


Figure 2–17. The double-accented 4-phrase. (Evans, “Night and Day,” mm. 5–16) {8}

44

Meter and grouping superimpose two different structures on the musical surface, which may or may not agree. When grouping boundaries match metrical boundaries, phrase rhythm is in a state of consonance. Therefore, the most consonant 4-phrase begins exactly on a hypermetrical downbeat and continues until just before the next hypermetrical downbeat. This is the quintessential beginning-accented phrase (see fig. 2–12A above, and the top phrase of fig. 2–18 below). All 4-phrases that depart from this norm are dissonant with the meter, to varying degrees. Figure 2–18 lists the 4-phrase types, from consonant to dissonant, and shows their placement against the meter. An anacrusis to a 4-phrase (a portion before the hypermetrical downbeat) creates very slight dissonance. Un-accented 4-phrases are more dissonant, since they do not reinforce the hypermetrical downbeat’s role as a point of departure. But because they are confined entirely within a hypermeasure, they do not really challenge the meter either. Endaccented phrases are the most dissonant of all, because they superimpose a phrase-ending on a location of metrical beginning.40 A tail (a portion after the hypermetrical downbeat) makes an end-accented phrase more dissonant, by intruding further into the next hypermeasure. While beginning-accented phrases tend to sound like they proceed from a hypermetrical downbeat forward, end-accented phrases sound like they proceed to a hypermetrical downbeat.

40

Combined phrases, introduced below, are even more dissonant.


Figure 2–18. Comparison of 4-phrase types. [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [4–phrase

]

Ideal:

D

Beg.-acc., with anacrusis:

i

Un-accented:

s

Double-accented:

s.

End-accented:

4-phrases often contain an internal point of division. The result is a pair of 2-phrases. Figure 2–19A shows a beginning-accented 4-phrase divided into two beginning-accented 2phrases. Figure 2–19B shows an end-accented 4-phrase divided into two end-accented 2phrases. In each case, square brackets show the boundaries of the 4-phrase; angled brackets show the interior boundaries. Because the phrases are hierarchically nested, the square brackets serve double duty: the first square bracket indicates the beginning of the 4-phrase and the beginning of the first 2-phrase; the second square bracket similarly indicates the end of the 4phrase and the end of the second 2-phrase. This is made clearer in figure 2-19C, which shows the abstract grouping structure for a pair of 2-phrases. Since every phrase-beginning or ending at one level is also a beginning or ending at every lower level, it is unnecessary to show both functions explicitly. Figure 2–19. The 2-phrase. 2–19A. Parker, “Now’s the Time,” mm. 26–29 (beginning-accented 2-phrases). {27} 41-

21


2–19B. Rollins, “Airegin,” mm. 53–60 (end-accented 2-phrases). {29} -12

-14

2–19C. Grouping structure. m. 53 54 55 56 57 [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] 4:

[

2:

[

4 2

][

] 2

]

As in the case of the 4-phrase, whether a 2-phrase (angled) bracket is solid or dotted depends on its metrical location. Just as 4-phrase brackets were measured in relation to the nearest four-bar downbeat, 2-phrase brackets are measured in relation to the nearest two-bar downbeat, generally beat III.1 of the hypermeasure. The rules are analogous to those for 4phrase (square) brackets: •

Angled bracket: boundary of a 2-phrase o

o

Beginning bracket: 

Solid: before beat III.1.



Dotted: after beat III.1.

Ending bracket: 

Solid: before beat III.1.



Dotted: after beat III.1.

Figure 2–20A modifies figure 2–15, showing a (non-exhaustive) range of possible locations for the brackets demarcating the different 2-phrases. The relationship of the 2-phrase brackets to beat III.1 is identical to the relationship of the 4-phrase brackets to beat I.1. Figure 2–20. Where to place 2-phrase brackets: solid v. dotted. 2–20A. Some possible brackets for the first 2-phrase.


2–20B. Some possible brackets for the second 2-phrase.

These rules suggest the following procedure for bracketing divided 4-phrases: 1. Identify the 4-phrase and bracket accordingly, ignoring the division. 2. Compare the ending of the first 2-phrase to beat III.1 and bracket accordingly. 3. Compare the beginning of the second 2-phrase to beat III.1 and bracket accordingly. Figure 2–21 shows some divided 4-phrases that do not exactly match the prototypes in figure 2–20. In figure 2–21A, the 4-phrase in measures 29 to 34 is double-accented. Since its first 2-phrase ends before beat III.1, it has a solid angled ending. In this case, its beginningaccented prosody, [41], agrees with its solid brackets, which also suggest beginningaccentuation. The second 2-phrase begins before beat III.1, and so it has a solid angled beginning. But it ends after beat 34.1, so it is a double-accented 2-phrase, just as the overall phrase is a double-accented 4-phrase: it overlaps a two-bar downbeat at its beginning and at its end. Notice how the brackets around the second 2-phrase resemble those around the entire 4phrase: solid-dotted. Figure 2–21. Asymmetrical 2-phrase division. 2–21A. Parker, “Now’s the Time,” mm. 26–37. {27}

41

24-


2–21B. Evans, “Night and Day,” mm. 33–36. {8} -1

21-

Figure 2–21B presents the inverse situation. The 4-phrase is un-accented. The ending of its first 2-phrase comes before beat III.1, and so its bracket is solid. In this way, the construction of the first 2-phrase mirrors the 4-phrase: it overlaps no two-bar downbeats, just as the 4-phrase overlaps no four-bar downbeats. Un-accented 4-phrases, when divided into 2-phrases, always contain at least one un-accented 2-phrase.41 Figure 2–22 is a challenging case. As an exercise for the reader, I first present it without any brackets or prosody markings. I invite the reader to determine the appropriate brackets and prosody for the two segments in measures 12 to 15 (a divided 4-phrase). Figure 2–22B, on the next page, presents the same example with the brackets and prosody filled in. Figure 2–22A: A challenging case. (Rollins, “Blue Seven,” mm. 9–15) {31}

Blue Seven By Sonny Rollins Copyright © 1965 Prestige Music Copyright Renewed International Copyright Secured All Rights Reserved

Double-accented 4-phrases do not have the parallel requirement: they need not contain a double-accented 2-phrase. They could begin with a beginning-accented 2-phrase and end with an end-accented 2-phrase, without overlapping beat III.1. Charlie Parker often employs this phrase rhythm. 41


Figure 2–22B. The solution to fig. 2–23A.

4

-2

The 4-phrase begins before beat 13.1 and ends before beat 17.1 (not shown), so it takes solid square brackets. The 2-phrase division occurs before beat 15.1, so it is shown with solid angled brackets. 2-phrases are sometimes divided into pairs of 1-phrases. These are shown with curved brackets. (In these cases, I usually label the prosody of the 2-phrase rather than its constituent 1-phrases.) Figure 2–23A shows a typical instance. The procedure for notating this situation logically extends the bracket notation to the next level. First, bracket the 4-phrase as though it were undivided. Then bracket the 2-phrases as though they were undivided. Finally, show divisions of the 2-phrases with solid round brackets. (For 1-phrases, I do not bother with solid and dotted brackets.) In this case, the square brackets serve triple duty: the first one shows the beginning of the 4-phrase, the first 2-phrase, and the first 1-phrase; the second one shows the ending of the 4-phrase, the second 2-phrase, and the fourth 1-phrase. Similarly, now the 2phrase brackets serve double-duty, indicating divisions at the 2-phrase and 1-phrase levels. Figure 2–23B illustrates the grouping structure. Notice how the 4-phrase brackets extend down through two additional levels, and the 2-phrase brackets extend through one additional level. Figure 2–23. The 1-phrase. 2–23A. Brown, “Valse Hot,” mm. 6–13. {5}

41

21


2–23B. Grouping structure. m. 10 11 12 13 14 [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] 4:

[

4

2:

[

1:

[ 1 ][ 1 ][ 1 ][ 1 ]

2

][

] 2

]

Often, only one of a pair of 2-phrases is divided (usually the first: a sentential structure, short-short-long). Figure 2–24 presents this situation. Figure 2–24. Sentence-structure, 1/1/2. (Rollins, “Blue Seven,” mm. 82–109) {31}

21

41


The division of a 4-phrase into four 1-phrases can have some unusual consequences for prosody. Figure 2–25 shows an un-accented 4-phrase, a type favored by Bill Evans. Its constituent 2-phrases are themselves un-accented: the first begins after beat I.1 but ends before III.1, the second begins after III.1 but ends before the subsequent I.1. Even the 1-phrases are un-accented, so there are no overlapped downbeats at all.


Fig. 2–25. No overlapped downbeats. (Evans, “How Deep Is the Ocean?” mm. 13–16) {11}


The phrase-types described above are valid for all schemes that maintain consistent fourbar hypermeter. They relate melodic segments to metrical units of various length. Whenever a scheme has eight-bar hypermeasures, 8-phrases may also appear. (Eight-bar hypermeasures are coextensive with sections in thirty-two-bar AABA and ABAC form.) An 8-phrase is a discrete phrase or set of smaller phrases that occupies an eight-bar hypermeasure. Like the other types, 8-phrases can be beginning-, end-, un-, or double-accented. Figure 2–26 presents a beginningaccented 8-phrase, divided into 4-phrases, and illustrates the notation: double square brackets at the beginning and end. As with other phrase types, the different types of 8-phrase are consonant or dissonant to varying degrees, ranging from beginning-accented (most consonant) to end-accented (most dissonant). Figure 2–26. The beginning-accented 8-phrase. (Parker, “Ornithology,” mm. 1–8) {19} 42-

42-

The constituent phrases of an 8-phrase may be further divided. In figure 2–27A, four 2phrases form a beginning-accented 8-phrase. The 2-phrases all have similar prosody. Like 4phrase and 2-phrase brackets, 8-phrase brackets frequently serve double- or triple-duty: the bracket in measure 16 indicates the beginning of the 8-phrase, the first 4-phrase, and the first 2phrase. Figure 2–27B shows the grouping structure of 2–27A.


Figure 2–27. An 8-phrase made from four 2-phrases. 2–27A. Evans, “Nardis,” mm. 13–24. {12}

-4-

-2

-4

-2-

Nardis By Miles Davis Copyright © 1959 JAZZ HORN MUSIC CORP. Copyright Renewed All Rights Controlled and Administered by SONGS OF UNIVERSAL, INC. All Rights Reserved Used by Permission

2–27B. Grouping structure. m. 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 [8] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [8] 8:

[

4:

[

2:

[

8 4 2

][

]

][ 2

][

4 2

][

] 2

]

I conclude this section with a tutorial analysis of the first chorus from Miles Davis’s twochorus solo on “Oleo.” I selected this solo specifically for the clarity of its phrase rhythm, which is more consonant than that of any other solo in this dissertation. (The solo is analyzed in full in chapter 3.) For the reader’s benefit, figure 2–28A presents the entire first chorus, without annotations. Figure 2–28B fills in the brackets and prosody.


Figure 2–28A. Davis, “Oleo,” mm. 1–32.42 {7}

42



Figure 2–28B. Davis, “Oleo,” with brackets and prosody shown. 41-

-1-

-12-

-2-

-1

1-

21

-1-

-1-

-1-

-14

-2

421

The solo opens with a beginning-accented 4-phrase and an un-accented 4-phrase, which form a beginning-accented 8-phrase. The first 4-phrase is divided into parallel 2-phrases.


Relatively speaking, the second 2-phrase (mm. 3–4) begins an eighth-note later than the first, on beat 1.5 of the measure rather than beat 1. This causes its beginning-bracket to be dotted, rather than solid. It would have been solid if the phrase had begun before measure 3, beat 1. Davis also fills measures 9 to 16 with an 8-phrase (this time, un-accented), but one whose constituent 4-phrases are more unusual. The first 4-phrase is end-accented, extending into measure 13. (The two-note segment in measure 13, motivically connected with the previous segment by its descending third, is a suffix, defined below.) The second 4-phrase (mm. 14–15) is quite short. It is also an excellent example of accent-borrowing: its final note, on beat 15.4.5, anticipates the harmony of measure 16 and borrows the accent of beat 16.1, giving the 4-phrase a prosody of [21] rather than [2-]. In the third section (mm. 17–24), Davis sets up the expectation for another consonant 8phrase but departs at the last moment, turning an un-accented 8-phrase into an end-accented 8phrase by overlapping beat 25.1. The section opens with three repetitions of the same 2-phrase. Since the first 2-phrase ends before beat III.1 (19.1), and the second begins after beat III.1, the 2-phrases are un-accented. Though these segments are highly dissonant with the harmony, after three repetitions of the same 2-phrase, the phrase rhythm appears predictable, even banal. Parallelism would suggest that the fourth appearance (begun in m. 23) will resemble the others. But the fourth 2-phrase begins an eighth-note later than expected and ends a quarter-note later than expected. This small deviation has a significant consequence: the 8-phrase in measures 17 to 24 becomes end-accented, creating deep dissonance between grouping and meter, and suppressing the scheme’s half-cadence in measure 24. The final eight measures (25–32) contain an un-accented 4-phrase followed by a beginning-accented 4-phrase, which reverses the order of the 4-phrases in measures 1 to 8. The final 4-phrase is highly consonant with the meter, following the prototypical 4-phrase prosody of [421] and ending within the hypermeasure. (It is conceivable to put a 2-phrase division in measure 30, after the high Bb. This division is supported chiefly by strong beat (the backwards influence of beat 31.1) and contour (the reversal of direction). For me, this moment does not quite cross the threshold into 2-phrase division, but for another analyst, it might.) For this tutorial analysis, I have not discussed any deeper issues of phrase rhythm, such as the relationship of the solo to the scheme at higher levels, the similarities and differences


between sections, or the long-term progression of consonance and dissonance. I save these subjects for later chapters.

Prefixes and Suffixes; Phrase Overlap; Combined Phrases; Rhyme

There are three means of modifying these basic phrases: the addition of prefixes and suffixes; phrase overlap; and phrase combination. 4-phrases may contain a short prefix or suffix separated from most of the phrase by a rest. This divides the complete phrase into two discrete units, with the prefix or suffix substantially shorter than the main part of the phrase. A prefix seems to set up the longer segment that follows, while a suffix seems like an afterthought to the preceding segment. (I have already introduced the suffix, in figure 2–28, measure 13.) A vertical line separates a prefix or suffix from the remainder of the phrase. Square brackets encompass the entire 4-phrase, including the prefix or suffix. Figure 2–29 has a prefix in measures 12 to 13. This prefix initiates a 4-phrase, the bulk of which falls in measures 13 to 15. If the prefix were left out, the 4-phrase would transform from beginning-accented to un-accented, since it would begin after beat I.1 of the hypermeasure. The prefix highlights the hypermetrical downbeat (beat 13.1 in the figure), and makes the overall 4phrase beginning-accented. Figure 2–29. A prefix. (Parker, “Scrapple From the Apple,” mm. 9–16) {22} -12-

-42-

If the prefix in figure 2–29 fell one beat earlier, such that it ended within measure 12, I might have analyzed it instead as a suffix to the previous phrase. The phrase rhythm of figure 2–29—two 4-phrases separated by a short segment that overlaps beat I.1—is common. In this arrangement, the short segment links the two larger segments together. But the designation “prefix” or “suffix” requires that the short segment be understood as connected to either the


preceding or following longer segment, as part of the same 4-phrase. The forward-looking quality of meter suggests that short segments that end at or after beat I.1 should usually be attached to the 4-phrase that follows. (The example from “Oleo,” fig. 2–28, is an exception.) A series of discrete 4-phrases, even of varying type, can become monotonous. Phrase overlap, a notion familiar from theories of classical music, is one way of escaping this monotony. In this case, a pivot note overlapping beat I.1 of a hypermeasure seems simultaneously to end a segment and begin the following segment. It links two segments together, while maintaining their essential independence. On classical music, William Rothstein writes, “A phrase overlap is most likely to occur when the first of two phrases ends either at (or just after) a hypermetrical downbeat” (1989: 48). The same is true in jazz: as I define it, a pivot note always overlaps a hypermetrical downbeat. Segmentation factor 3 (strong beat) is relevant here. In a phrase overlap, the metrical accent on the pivot note encourages the hearing of a grouping boundary, when plausible. A pivot note also stands out from the surrounding melody in some other way, most often through relative duration or contour. Figure 2–30 present two phrase overlaps, where the end of a 4-phrase overlaps with the beginning of a 2-phrase. In figure A, on beat 89.1, a pivot note joins an end-accented 4-phrase with a 2-phrase. The 4-phrase ends when the 2-phrase begins. The brackets surrounding the pivot note reflect its dual role. (An underlined “4” in the prosody notation shows a phrase overlap.) In figure A, the pivot note is marked by its relatively long duration and the different rhythmic divisions on either side; in figure B, the pivot note is a melodic low point. Low points make especially good pivots: a descent leads into the pivot and an ascent leads from the pivot, contours often associated with ending and beginning, respectively. Figure 2–31 plots the grouping structure of figure 2–30 (examples A and B have the same grouping structure), with the overlap shown with an “O.” The first 4-phrase overlaps with the following 2-phrase. By extension through the phrase hierarchy, it also overlaps with the following 4-phrase. Phrase overlap creates some dissonance, since it requires an end-accented phrase. But a phrase overlap is less dissonant than an isolated end-accented phrase, since the second phrase of the overlapping pair reinforces the role of the hypermetrical downbeat as a point of departure.


Figure 2–30. Phrase overlap. 2–30A. Evans, “Solar,” mm. 85–91. {13} 1241-

Solar By Miles Davis Copyright © 1963 Prestige Music Copyright Renewed International Copyright Secured All Rights Reserved

2–30B. Rollins, “St. Thomas,” mm. 110–117. {33} 441-


Figure 2–31. Grouping structure in a phrase overlap. (“O” indicates the point of overlap.) [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] 4: 2:

[

4

O O

4 2

][

] 2

]

As I have defined them, 8-phrases, 4-phrases, 2-phrases, and 1-phrases must be roughly coextensive with metrical time-spans. Consider now the second phrase in figure 2–32. Though it is roughly four measures long, it is not a 4-phrase, because it does not occupy a single four-bar


hypermeasure of the scheme. It is not a pair of overlapping phrases, because the Eb on beat 89.1 does not stand out as a pivot note. Instead, this phrase occupies two distinct metrical timespans: a two-bar hypermeasure in measures 87 and 88, and a four-bar hypermeasure in measures 89 to 92. It is a combined phrase. Because it fills the roles of both a 2-phrase and a 4phrase, it is a “2+4” combined phrase. The “+” symbols below the phrase’s brackets show this type. Just as other phrases are defined by their occupation of metrical time-spans, combined phrases cross four-bar downbeats and occupy two different metrical time-spans. This does not merely demand that a combined phrase have parts in two hypermeasures: beginning-accented 4-phrases often begin in measure IV of the previous hypermeasure, and end-accented 4-phrases always fall within two different hypermeasures, since they end at or after beat I.1, but these are not combined phrases. Rather, melodic characteristics of the combined phrase must make it sound as though it contributes to both hypermeasures. In the next section, I elucidate the difference between these interpretations with several examples. Figure 2–32. A 2+4 combined phrase. (Evans, “All the Things You Are,” mm. 85–92) {15} 41 242

All The Things You Are From VERY WARM FOR MAY Lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II Music by Jerome Kern Copyright © 1939 UNIVERSAL–POLYGRAM INTERNATIONAL PUB., INC. Copyright Renewed All Rights Reserved Used by Permission

Figure 2–33. Grouping structure, figure 2–32 (phrase combination). [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] 8:

[

8

]

4: 2:

[

2

][

2+4

]


Figure 2–33 shows the grouping structure of figure 2–32. The two phrases constitute an 8phrase: they occupy an eight-measure hypermeasure. But there is no 4-phrase level in the passage, because no single segment serves to occupy a four-bar hypermeasure. The 2+4 phrase is shown at the 2-phrase level, rather than the 4-phrase level, because it is only consonant with the meter at this level (as a set of three two-bar hypermeasures). Because they suppress the 4-phrase level, combined phrases are extremely dissonant—much more so even than end-accented 4phrases. But when they take place within an eight-bar hypermeasure, as they do here, combined phrases create highly unified 8-phrases, by shifting attention from the four-bar to the eight-bar level. In subsequent chapters, I will present some examples of combined phrases that run across an eight-bar downbeat, disrupting the 4-phrase and 8-phrase levels. With these concepts in place, I can discuss a final factor of phrase rhythm: rhyme. Rhyme is often casually invoked in discussions of music, but I use it in a very specific way. Two segments rhyme when they begin or end at the same point within a measure, two-bar hypermeasure, or four-bar hypermeasure. Two segments that begin at (or near) the same relative metrical location have beginning-rhyme, while two segments that end at (or near) the same relative metrical location have end-rhyme. End-rhyme is generally more conspicuous than beginning-rhyme, as in poetic verse. Figure 2–34 presents some rhyming phrases. In 2–34A, the 4-phrases begin at the same hypermetrical location. This creates beginning-rhyme at the four-bar level, since the interval between the rhymes is four measures. Figure 2–34B illustrates beginning-rhyme and end-rhyme at the two-bar level, in the 2-phrases in measures 60 to 63. Figure 2–34C shows two instances of end-rhyme. Its first two 1-phrases (mm. 33-34) end on beat 4, a rhyme at the one-bar level. A long combined phrase follows, the end of which also rhymes with these 1-phrases by ending on beat 4. This rhyme occurs at an interval of five and six measures from the 1-phrases. It helps unify the 8-phrase as a whole but it does not create a correspondence between rhyme and the schematic meter, the way the other rhymes do.


Figure 2–34. Rhyme. 2–34A. Beginning-rhyme. (Evans, “Nardis,” mm. 1–8) {12} 121-

12-


2–34B. Beginning- and end-rhyme. (Rollins, “St. Thomas,” mm. 57–64) {33}

4-

2-



2–34C. End-rhyme. (Evans, “Nardis,” mm. 33–40) {12} 41-

-142-


As I have defined it, rhyme does not require melodic or even rhythmic parallelism between different segments, only parallelism in metrical location. When present, melodic and rhythmic parallelism intensify rhyme. The rhyming 2-phrases in figure 2–34B have parallel melodies and rhythms, as do the 1-phrases in figure 2–34C. But rhymes lacking these reinforcements remain audible and affect phrase rhythm. Rhyme helps resolve ambiguities in the phrase rhythm hierarchy, by suggesting how smaller segments should be grouped into larger segments. Specifically, when possible, rhyming segments should be grouped together as part of the same larger phrase.

Resolving Ambiguities

I have hand-picked the preceding examples to illustrate the theory’s concepts. They may have created the impression that the identification of phrase types depends entirely on the metrical location of a phrase’s beginning and ending; it does not. Ambiguous situations arise, usually involving phrases that end just after beat I.1. It is often unclear whether to treat these phrases as combined—occupying two different time-spans—or merely end-accented—crossing into the next hypermeasure without really occupying any part of it. Figure 2–35 shows the difference between these two interpretations, in the abstract grouping structure.


Figure 2–35. A common source of ambiguity. [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] Ambig. segment: As end-acc. 4-phrase: 4:

[

4

][

4

2:

[

4+2

][

1:

[

4+1

][ 1 ]

]

As 4+1 comb. phrase: 4: 2

]

The passage in figure 2–36A will illustrate this difference further. The segment in measures 65 to 69 might be a 4+1 combined phrase (figure 2–36B) or, alternatively, an endaccented phrase (figure 2–36C). As analyzed in figure B, the segment contributes a 4-phrase to measures 65 to 68, and a 1-phrase to measures 69 to 72. The eighth-rest on beat 69.1 punctuates a three-note motive (C-B-A), repeated exactly one measure later as G-F-E and extended by two notes. Figure 2–36B accounts for this motivic connection by placing both instances of the motive within the same 2-phrase, which combines with the preceding 4-phrase. (Because of the hierarchical nature of grouping structure, there is a 4+1 and a 4+2 combined phrase.) In ambiguous situations, motivically connected segments should belong to the same larger phrase when possible, as suggested by grouping factor 4. Figure 2–36: Combination or end-accentuation? 2–36A. Rollins, “St. Thomas,” mm. 65–72. {33}



2–36B. As combination. -1241-

2…

2–36C. As end-accentuation.

In terms of hearing, I prefer figure 2–36B because I hear the last portion of the segment in measures 65 to 69 as initiating something new, which continues in the next segment. On the opposing hearing, shown in figure 2–36C, the phrase-ending in measure 69 is much more final, and the next segment initiates a new group at a deep level. I find it very difficult to hear the passage in this way. Figure 2–36 presented a combined phrase that might be mistaken for an end-accented 4phrase. The opposite can also occur: an end-accented 4-phrase might mistaken for a combined phrase.43 Figure 2–37 shows two instances of such a 4-phrase, both by Charlie Parker. In both, the end-accented 4-phrase lasts until beat I.3 of the following hypermeasure, but a long IOI deepens the division between the phrase-ending and the next segment. In terms of hearing, in Ambiguity between end-accented and overlapped phrases also arises in classical music. Rothstein writes, “The juxtaposition of phrases in an afterbeat [end-accented] pattern can easily take on the appearance of a series of phrase overlaps” (1989: 48). Just as jazz musicians and classical composers draw from the same well of harmonic and melodic devices, they also explore similar subtleties of phrase rhythm. 43


figure 2–37A, I do not hear the last portion of the segment ending in measure 6 as initiating a new melodic idea or segment. It sounds like a “beginning” only because of its metrical strength. The same goes for figure 2–37B, measure 9. There is also no motivic connection comparable to that in figure 2–36. This is not to suggest that phrase rhythm should always be analyzed to show motivic connection above other factors; I believe one can hear motivic connections across significant phrase divisions, and between segments occurring quite far apart in the music. Motive plays a decisive role in determining phrase rhythm only when other factors, such as IOI and strong beat, are insufficient or ambiguous, especially when it comes to the hierarchical organization of segments. Figure 2–37. End-accentuation that resembles combination. 2–37A. Parker, “Yardbird Suite,” mm. 1–9. {20} -44-

2…

2–37B. Parker, “Dewey Square,” mm. 5–12. {21} -14-

…41-

-2…

When introducing the prefix and suffix, I claimed that short segments ending at or after beat I.1 should usually be attached to the following hypermeasure. It turns out that even short segments ending before beat I.1 can be attached to the following hypermeasure, due to rhyme or a motivic connection. In figure 2–38, Sonny Rollins uses melodic parallelism and contour to suggest this phrase rhythm. The segment in measure 36, considering only its metrical


placement, would most naturally be interpreted as a suffix to the preceding 4-phrase. But I prefer to interpret it as the first 1-phrase of the following 4-phrase. Rollins’s immediate repetition of F#-G in measure 37 creates a link between measure 36 and the following hypermeasure. Measures 38 and 39 echo measures 36 and 37: I hear the G on beat 36.4 as an anticipation of beat 37.1, corresponding to the A on beat 39.1; the subsequent motion to F# on beat 37.3 corresponds with the move from A to G on beat 39.3. Finally, the ending on beat 37.4.5 rhymes with that on beat 39.4.5, creating parallelism between successive 2-phrases. The first 1-phrase, in measure 36, is entirely contained in the preceding hypermeasure, creating remarkable dissonance between meter and grouping structure. Figure 2–38. Ambiguous phrase rhythm. (Rollins, “St. Thomas,” mm. 33–40) {33} …4-

-41

-2

21


Figure 2–39 shows two instances of phrase division without pause, where a grouping boundary is not supported by IOI. In 2–39A, the voice-leading and contour suggest a grouping boundary after beat 58.1. The note on this beat resolves a double-chromatic approach from the previous measure, a conclusive gesture. The Bb on beat 58.1.5 initiates new melodic motion upwards. There is no pivot note, nor melodic continuity, nor slur between the F and Bb, so neither a phrase overlap nor a combined phrase is indicated.


Figure 2–39. Phrase division without pause. 2–39A. Brown, “Valse Hot,” mm. 54-71. {5}

2–39B. Rollins, “Blue Seven,” mm. 143-160. {31}


My reading of figure 2–39B is perhaps unintuitive, but I believe it is supported by the music. The questionable grouping boundary comes between beat 146.1 and 146.1.5. On the recording, Rollins inserts a lift between the Bb and Ab, which supports hearing Bb as the termination of a phrase. In terms of voice-leading, the Db on beat 145.1 travels up an octave during measure 145 before resolving through C to Bb on beat 146.1. The arrival on scale degree 1 highlights this moment as an end-point. The strong downbeat of measure 147 exerts its backwards influence to the nearest plausible boundary, which is just after this Bb. Therefore, articulation, strong beat, and voice-leading all support my interpretation.


Earlier, I downplayed motive and voice-leading as factors of segmentation. But as these analyses show, they play a role in two situations: the resolution of ambiguity, and the determination of higher-level phrase rhythm. Often, determining the smallest segments of a solo is easy, while determining how best to group those segments into 2- and 4-phrases is difficult. Factors that do not play a role in initial segmentation come to the fore during this process.

80

PART II: APPLICATIONS Introduction Each chapter of Part II focuses on schemes of a particular type: thirty-two-bar AABA, thirty-twobar ABAC, twelve-bar blues, and a selection of metrically atypical schemes. I discuss the general properties of each type and then discuss the phrase rhythm of several solos in detail. In the appendix, all of the solos discussed in chapters 3 through 7 appear in full, with analytical annotations. The works I examine span the fifteen years from 1946 to 1961, and all might be said to fit into the bebop tradition. (“Bebop tradition” includes all bebop’s immediate descendants: hard bop, cool jazz, etc.) Bebop and its descendants are perhaps the most widely-played style of jazz today. Gary Giddins and Scott Deveaux write: If the present era is not dominated by a single jazz school, it does offer something akin to a universal lingua franca…Today’s jazz musicians can all speak the same language…: a musical patois grounded in bebop, with respect for previous jazz schools and knowledge of later ones.44 (2009: 607) Given this status, I hope readers will recognize many familiar techniques in the solos that follow—and even some of the solos themselves. My choice of solos was motivated by a desire to showcase a variety of approaches to each scheme-type, and by the availability of transcriptions. I include the most important melodic instruments of bebop: tenor and alto saxophone, trumpet, and piano. I represent many significant figures from this period: Cannonball Adderley, Clifford Brown, Miles Davis, Bill Evans, Stan Getz, Charlie Parker, Bud Powell, and Sonny Rollins. With an eye towards brevity, I offer only cursory biographies of the performers. I advise the curious reader to peruse the New Grove Dictionary of Jazz or any historical survey.45 The primary goal of this dissertation is to present a new analytical method. From this follow two caveats. First, I make no claim of comprehensiveness in my choice of repertoire. Thomas Owens also calls bebop the lingua franca of jazz (1995: 4). For example, Giddins & Deveaux 2009, Gioia 1997, Gridley 2006, Martin & Waters 2002, Owens 1995 44 45

Part II: Applications—Introduction 81

Limitations of space and time prevent me from tackling any individual’s style in depth, or from offering anything approaching a survey of jazz in a certain time period. The generalizations I make are speculative, the conclusions, tentative. Second, I make no attempt at comprehensiveness in my analyses; indeed, by a strict definition, they are not analyses at all. According to David Lewin, what I present here is theory, not analysis: I am attempting to “validate my ideas” by “point[ing] out passages from the literature as support for the putative pertinence of [my] notions”; I am trying to “focus [my] readers ears on what I am interested in” (1969: 63). Analysis begins with a piece; I began with a method, and selected the solos in this section to demonstrate its applicability. Therefore, I ignore many aspects of these solos altogether, not because they are unimportant or make no contribution to the solo’s value, but because they are outside the scope of this dissertation.

Chorus-level Phrase Rhythm

I frequently invoke the concept of chorus-level phrase rhythm. Both AABA and ABAC forms divide four eight-bar hypermeasures (or “sections”). I believe one does not perceive meter at the eight- and sixteen-bar levels in the same way as at lower levels: the eight-bar and sixteen-bar “beats” are too far apart in real time to be experienced as temporal periodicities, and arise through unconscious accumulation of lower-level beats. Nevertheless, the ubiquity of the division into eight-bar hypermeasures allows experienced listeners and players to “feel” these beats in a manner analogous to metrical beats. Chorus-level phrase rhythm arises through the interaction of grouping structure with sectional downbeats. When a phrase ends before such a beat, and a new phrase begins at or near such a beat, the sectional division is confirmed. When the soloist overlaps a sectional downbeat with an end-accented phrase, the division is disrupted: the downbeat points forward while the ending points backward, heightening the tension intrinsic to the end-accented phrase. The most disruptive situation is a combined phrase that overlaps a sectional downbeat. In one chorus of an AABA scheme, the soloist has four chances to confirm or challenge a sectional beat: one between each section, and one final opportunity at the end of the solo either to conclude within the final A section, or to overlap the downbeat of the next chorus (quite common). A solo in which the performer contradicts sectional downbeats tends to be

Part II: Applications—Introduction 82

much more dissonant than one in which those downbeats are confirmed. In a multi-chorus solo, another level of beats emerges: chorus downbeats. The performer may confirm or contradict these just like any other, with the expected effect. Alongside the lower-level phrase rhythm that was the focus of chapter 2, I discuss these high-level interactions extensively in the analyses that follow. (N.B. When referring to sections of a multi-chorus solo, the number of the chorus comes first, followed by the name of the section. For example, in an AABA form, the sections are labeled “A1,” “A2,” “B,” and “A3”; “2A3” would refer to the second chorus, section A3.)

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Chapter 3: Thirty-Two-Bar Schemes in AABA Form AABA Form

Most thirty-two-bar schemes are cast in AABA or ABAC form, based on melodic recurrences and the occurrence of certain harmonic events at sectional boundaries. The following events characterize an idealized AABA (A1 A2 B A3) form (see figure 3–1):46 1. Recurrence of melody and harmony from section A1 in sections A2 and A3; 2. A new melody and harmonic digression in section B; 3. A half-cadence or evaded cadence at the end of sections A1 and B; 4. A full cadence at the end of sections A2 and A3, which I call the medial and final cadences. Figure 3–1. An idealized AABA form. Section:

|

A1 |

A2 |

B

|

A3 |

Melody:

|

a

a

b

|

a

Harmony:

| IHC |IPAC | ?HC |I PAC|

|

|

|

Terefenko (2004) considers both AABA and ABAC to be two-part forms: “Though each section of these designs is self-contained, the overall structure exhibits binary characteristics with a harmonic interruption occurring in m. 24 of the AABA form and m. 16 of the ABAC form” (vol. 1: 57). His perspective is explicitly Schenkerian: “Two basic tonal motions characterize the two branches of the interruption: 1) I–V, and 2) I–I” (ibid., my emphasis). I prefer to view AABA form as having essentially three parts, A1 A2 / B / A3.47 My view is based on the occurrence of harmonic closure and thematic reprise at metrically significant moments. I agree with Terefenko that the boundary between sections B and A3 is significant: the thematic reprise here, most often preceded by a half cadence, creates a strong formal division just before beat 25.1, the beginning of section A3. But I also believe the medial cadence at the end of section A2, coupled with the melodic and harmonic digression that

Compare Figure 2.1 in Terefenko 2004, vol. 2: 139. I avoid the label “ternary” because this term has too many connotations in theories of classical music. 46 47


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usually initiates section B, create a division of equal significance at beat 17.1. This establishes the three-part form A1 A2 / B / A3. Like beat 25.1, beat 17.1 is marked with significant events immediately both before (a PAC) and after (a melodic/harmonic digression). An analogy might be drawn between thirty-two-bar AABA form and “rounded binary” form in classical music, which I diagram A :||: B A’. The first A section usually ends with a tonicization of V (or bIII in minor), but a PAC in tonic sometimes occurs here.48 Schenkerians make no distinction between these cases in their interpretation of the form’s primary division.49 They always place the form-defining interruption after section B, dividing the form into two parts: A B || A’. (This contradicts the location of the repeat signs.) On the other hand, casual descriptions of the form sometimes stress the off-tonic cadence at the end of the first half as a defining feature, and imply that the form’s primary division is between sections A and B, in agreement with the repeat signs. The Harvard Dictionary of Music says, “The first [half] generally modulates from the tonic to a related key…The second [half] reverses this motion…Binary form is thus an archetypal example of open tonal structure at the large scale, in which motion away from the tonic in one part requires a complementary return to the tonic in a second” (White 2003: 100). Similarly, according to Grove: “Binary form is characterized by an articulated movement to another key followed by an articulated return to tonic. A conclusive arrival on the principal contrasting key (normally the dominant) marks the end of the first section” (Sutcliffe 2010). These descriptions do not account for rounded binary pieces in which the first half remains closes in tonic. They also contradict the Schenkerians. William Caplin (1998) takes a third position of rounded binary form, which accords with my view of AABA form, and which accommodates both modulating and non-modulating first halves. He calls rounded binary form “small ternary,” describing the three sections as “exposition” (corresponding to A1 and A2), “contrasting middle” (B), and “recapitulation” (A3) (71). His description of small ternary form could also apply to AABA form: The exposition is constructed as a tight-knit theme, most often a period…The theme ends with a perfect authentic cadence in either the home key or, in the case of a modulating A section, a closely related, subordinate key…The exposition emphasizes For example, in the trio of Mozart’s Symphony no. 35, third movement, analyzed in both Schachter 1999 and Cadwallader and Gagné 1998. 49 See Cadwallader and Gagné 1998: 224–243 for two analyses along these lines. 48


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tonic harmony (by beginning and ending with this harmonic function)…The harmonic goal of the [middle] section is, with rare exceptions, the dominant of the home key…The [recapitulation] must begin with the basic idea from the exposition and close in the home key with a perfect authentic cadence. (1998: 71) The “exposition” of a typical AABA form (A1 A2) is a parallel interrupted period; but this period is not always constructed according to classical norms, with the first phrase terminating in a half-cadence. Instead of a half-cadence, section A1 often ends with a tonic-evading “turnaround.” In such a turnaround, a cadential dominant proceeds not to tonic, but directly to iii-7, which functions as ii in a ii–V progression to the supertonic. This suppresses the potential tonic arrival at the end of section A1, and postpones the moment of harmonicmetrical closure until the end of section A2. Indeed, this gesture is often substituted into schemes whose A1 sections normally close on tonic. The most important formal events of AABA form are the medial cadence (in the tonic or some other key), a contrasting middle section that ends on a functional dominant, and a recapitulation at the opening of section A3—three parts, rather than two. In the introduction to Part II, I posited the concept of chorus-level phrase rhythm, the soloist’s confirmation or denial of the chorus’s most important divisions. At the very highest level, AABA forms have a threepart structure. Just as a soloist’s low-level phrase rhythm takes place against the scheme’s twoand four-bar hypermeter, a soloist’s chorus-level phrase rhythm takes place against this structure. Miles Davis, “Oleo” (1954)50

I introduced the first chorus of this two-chorus solo in the previous chapter. The clarity of Davis’s phrase rhythm makes it ideal to introduce the analytical method. Davis (1926–1991) is truly a towering figure in the history of jazz. He is perhaps best known for the 1959 album “Kind of Blue,” an early example of modal jazz. According to Henry Martin and Keith Waters, “Davis was consistently on the cutting edge of musical developments” across four decades of

50

The complete transcription appears on page 227.


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jazz history, with an “uncanny ability to explore and develop new styles,” including collaboration with Charlie Parker during bebop’s formative years (2002: 233). “Oleo” was a favorite scheme of Davis’s. He recorded it several times across an eleven-year portion of his career, from this recording (the first) until 1965; there must have been countless unrecorded performances as well. The scheme superimposes a jerky, unpredictable melody over the chord progression of “I Got Rhythm” (“Rhythm changes”). Rhythm changes are the quintessential AABA form, fitting figure 3–1 (above) perfectly.51 The first two A sections present identical eight-bar prolongations of tonic, save for an evaded cadence at the end of section A1; the B section contains a circle-of-fifths sequence terminating on a half-cadence. (Two other solos analyzed in this chapter, Charlie Parker’s “Moose the Mooche” and Bud Powell’s “Wail,” are also based on Rhythm changes.) The phrase rhythm of Davis’s two-chorus solo is extremely consonant. The solo includes no combined phrases, and only three end-accented phrases (including the final phrase of the solo). To hear the richness of the solo’s phrase rhythm requires sensitivity to slight dissonance and manipulation of expectations. In the first chorus, parallelism between sections A1 and A2, and suppression of the halfcadence at the end of the bridge (weakening the division here), suggest a binary structure: A1 A2 / B A3. In the second chorus, recurring tension between diatonicism and blues permeates sections A1 and A2. Clear divisions after sections A2 and B imply a chorus-level three-part structure—A1 A2 / B / A3—in accordance with schematic AABA form. Each section exhibits a characteristic design. The A1 sections of both choruses, shown in figure 3–2, employ the same phrase rhythm: a divided, beginning-accented 4-phrase followed by an un-accented 4-phrase. This is the only 8-phrase design that appears twice in the solo. There are differences between the sections, however. The pair of 2-phrases in measures 1 to 4 are almost identical, except the second begins an eighth-note too late. (This slight alteration moves the second 2-phrase’s strongest metrical accent to the middle of the phrase.) The near-perfect repetition and the implication of dominant harmony in measure 4 leave the 4-phrase open-

It is easily forgotten that “I Got Rhythm,” as originally composed by George Gershwin, is thirty-four measures long, not thirty-two: section A3 features a two-bar extension. Such is the power of metrical convention that most performances of Gershwin’s tune, and schemes based on its harmonic progression, tend to omit this extension and normalize the meter. 51


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ended. The second 4-phrase (mm. 5–8) sounds like an answer to this phrase, and this relationship unifies the 8-phrase as a 2+2+4 sentence. In section 2A1 (mm. 33–40), the first 4phrase sounds more self-contained (its internal division is weak), and the second 4-phrase does not sound like a necessary response or answer to the first. Instead, end-rhyme between measures 35 and 39 unifies the 4-phrases of the 8-phrase. Figure 3–2. Davis, “Oleo,” sections 1A1 and 2A1.52 {7} 3–2A. Section 1A1 (mm. 1–8). 41-

-1-

-12-

-41-

3–2B. Section 2A1 (mm. 32–42). 2-

-12–

Section 1A2 (fig. 3–3), like 1A1, sounds self-contained and complete only at the 8-phrase level. The end-accentuation of the first 4-phrase obscures the metrical midpoint of the section at beat 13.1. Davis constructs its first 4-phrase from a motive in descending skips, varying the rhythm slightly. He progressively alters the motive’s prosody through its three complete appearances (9–12): beginning-, then middle-, then end-accented. The larger segment containing these three appearances is itself middle-accented, an example of remarkable symmetry. The fourth, partial appearance of the motive in measure 13 appends a suffix to the

52



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4-phrase and makes it end-accented. This shifts attention to the 8-phrase level, at which level closure is achieved in measure 15.

Figure 3–3. Davis, “Oleo,” section 1A2 (mm. 9–16). {7} -1

-2-

1-

21

The first two sections of chorus 1 (figs. 3–2A and 3–3) are self-contained 8-phrases, with close internal connections but no dependence on one another (discounting the similarity of their endings in mm. 7 and 15). On the other hand, the blue color of section 2A1 (fig. 3–2B), especially the ending on b3, leaves it more open-ended than 1A1. The melody of 1A1, at the beginning of the solo, being consonant and well-circumscribed, serves an expositional role. The greater tension of 2A1 befits the middle portion of the solo. It also places greater demands on section 2A2 (fig. 3–4), which must resolve or sustain the bluesy tension. Figure 3–4. Davis, “Oleo,” section 2A2 (mm. 41–48). {7} 41-

2-

421

The section’s first 4-phrase continues the blue color of 2A1. The second 4-phrase (mm. 44–47) returns to diatonicism and brings the chorus’s first half to a satisfying close, with the same ending formula as appeared in measures 7 and 15, to close sections 1A1 and 1A2. Though the phrase rhythm of section 2A2 is highly consonant, the tension between blues and diatonicism maintains interest. In the bridge of both choruses, Davis manipulates the expectation of melodic parallelism; section 2B even builds on the expectations established by 1B. To balance this, the final A


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section of each chorus resolves tensions created by the bridge. In chapter 2, I mentioned the unexpected, last-minute turn to end-accentuation in measure 25 (fig. 3–5), after the same 2phrase has appeared thrice in succession. This suppresses the schematic half-cadence in measure 24. Another consequence of the end-accentuation in measure 25 is that the first 4phrase of section 1A3 begins late (mm. 26–27). The second phrase of 1A3 is the most consonant of the chorus (fig. 3–5, mm. 28–32), undivided and beginning-accented, with the ideal prosody [421]. Throughout the first chorus, the endings of each A-section occur progressively nearer to the section’s final measure: in 1A1, beat 7.3 (fig. 3–2A); in 1A2, beat 15.4.5 (fig. 3–3); here, finally, beat 32.1, beat IV.1 of the hypermeasure and the most consonant ending point possible. The high register, brevity of the rest in measure 32, and introduction of b7, abruptly undermine the metrical stability of this phrase. Figure 3–5. Davis, “Oleo,” sections 1B and 1A3 (mm. 17–32). {7} -1-

-1-

-1-

-14

-2

421

In section 2B, Davis parodies the predictability of 1B (fig. 3–6). The section begins with a 2-phrase of identical prosody to those in section 1B. Measures 51 and 52 are a perfect example of a “loud silence,” when the listener’s expectation of an answering 2-phrase is thwarted. Davis transforms the expected 2-phrase parallelism into 4-phrase parallelism: the answering phrase comes two measures late, as part of the section hypermeasure (mm. 53–55). The first


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hypermeasure is incompletely occupied, containing only a 2-phrase. While distorted parallelism characterizes sections 1B and 2B, the parallelism of section 2A3 is straightforward and resolves all tension at the end of the solo. Its structure is sentential. The first 4-phrase presents a basic idea and its repetition; as in section 1A1, exact repetition of a figure makes the phrase sound incomplete (mm. 56–60). (The fanfare-like motive is highly idiomatic for trumpet, reminiscent of Louis Armstrong.) The answering 4-phrase (61–65), the continuation, begins in parallel before concluding with the formula familiar from the first chorus (63). If one ignores the suffix in measures 64 and 65, the 4-phrases of this section rhyme perfectly. Even their 2-phrases rhyme (allowing for the borrowed accent of beat 61.4.5). Figure 3–6. Davis, “Oleo,” sections 2B and 2A3 (49–56). {7} -1-

-12-

41

41

-21

-21

-4

A suffix extends the final phrase to the downbeat of the next chorus. This suffix links the “true” end of Davis’s solo (beat 63.4.5) with the next chorus, like a “caesura fill” between the transitional section and second theme of a sonata.53 The term is from Hepokoski and Darcy 2006. They write that “caesura fill is part of neither [the transition] nor [the second group]: it represents the sonic articulation of the gap separating the two zones” (40). Similarly, Davis’s fill does not seem to belong to his solo, which ended on beat 63.4.5, but rather, fills the space before the next solo. 53


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The schematic chorus-level phrase rhythm of AABA form presents two key divisions, after sections A2 and B. In Rhythm changes, the soloist can suppress the division after section B by reinterpreting the half-cadence at the end of this section as the dominant chord of an authentic cadence, which terminates on the downbeat of section A3. The V–I progression of measures 24 and 25 of the form is easy to reinterpret. Davis makes this alteration in his first chorus (fig. 3– 5). Observe how this juncture is treated in the solos that follow.

Charlie Parker, “Moose the Mooche” (1946), “Yardbird Suite” (1946), “Dewey Square” (1947)

I continue with a comparison of three one-chorus solos by Charlie Parker. Each solo features subtly different phrase rhythm. My commentary centers on Parker’s treatment of the two schematic points of division in AABA form (AA/B/A). Parker (1920–1955) is widely regarded as the key architect of the bebop style, of which these solos are a classic example. He began his career as a swing player in the ‘30s, attaining his reputation for innovation in the mid-‘40s (Gioia 1997: 205 ff.). His virtuosity and development of jazz’s harmonic language has influenced every musician that followed; his legendary status justifies the inclusion of five of his solos in this dissertation. “Moose the Mooche” (Parker), recorded in 1946, is based on Rhythm changes (like “Oleo”).54 The solo contains four 8-phrases: Parker indicates all sectional divisions with long rests. Indeed, it is difficult to discern any chorus-level phrase rhythm that transcends sectional boundaries. Parallelism between the phrase rhythm of each section divides the chorus in half, very weakly: A1 A2 / B A3. The first section within each half (sections A1 and B) is consonant, while the second (A2 and A3) is more dissonant as a result of phrase combination. This relationship is best illustrated through comparison of the corresponding sections of each sixteen-measure half: A1 to B, and A2 to A3. Figure 3–7 shows sections A1 and B side by side. Section A1 contains two un-accented 4-phrases. These phrases feature beginning-rhyme, each starting on beat I.3 of their respective hypermeasures (mm. 1 and 5). This 8-phrase is highly consonant: rhyme and common phrase-type unify its two 4-phrases at the eight-bar level,

54



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while phrase divisions reinforce the four-bar level and an arrival on scale degree 1 marks the end of the section. Also notice how Parker uses the same double-neighbor figure in measure 1 and measure 8, as bookends to the 8-phrase. Figure 3–7. Parker, “Moose the Mooche,” sections A1 and B. {18} 3–7A. Section A1 (mm. 1–8). -12-

-121

3–7B. Section B (mm. 17–24). -1

2

-42-

Section B, the consonant section of the second half, is more diverse than A1, though its neat division into 4-phrases still supports the meter. Parker divides the first 4-phrase into syncopated 2-phrases (mm. 17–19). The melody of the second echoes the first, but does not occur exactly two measures later. Instead, the second 2-phrase reaches its melodic apex on beat III.1, while the first placed it on beat I.3, a distance of 1.2 measures (one measure and two beats). This creates dissonance against the two-bar level of the meter. The long rest that follows in measures 19 and 20 affirms the four-bar level by creating a clear division between the bridge’s 4-phrases. A2 and A3, the second sections of each half, are more dissonant. Figure 3–8 shows them side by side. In section A2, a 2+4 combined phrase runs across the hypermetrical downbeat at 13.1. The phrase rhythm of measures 9 to 12 recurs throughout Parker’s work, including other


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solos in this dissertation. Its essential feature is that the melody does not overlap beat III.1, the hypermetrical midpoint. The first 2-phrase ends before this beat, but the second 2-phrase begins after it. When a 4-phrase is divided in this way, the second 2-phrase often overlaps the subsequent hypermetrical downbeat (in this case, beat 13.1), as either an end-accented phrase or a combined phrase, an apparent consequence of its beginning late. Here, Parker heightens the effect through beginning-rhyme at the two-bar level (on beats 9.1.5 and 11.1.5), which leads to the expectation of parallel endings; but the second 2-phrase goes on much longer than the first. Figure 3–8. Parker, “Moose the Mooche,” sections A2 and A3. {18} 3–8A. Section A2 (mm. 9–16). -1

-142

3–8B. Section A3 (mm. 24–34). 41-

241-

14

Parker similarly plays with expectations in section A3 (fig. 3–8B). As in section A2, the first 4-phrase divides into 2-phrases. The second 2-phrase begins in parallel with the first—note the rhyme on beats 25.1 and 27.1—but its second 1-phrase goes on longer than parallelism would demand, and combines with the first 2-phrase of the next hypermeasure (the 1+2 combined phrase in mm. 27–30). The process of phrase combination is similar in sections A2 and A3. In each case, the combined phrase originates with a phrase-beginning after beat III.1,


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and Parker similarly downplays the hypermetrical downbeats (beat 13.1 and 29.1) that occur in the middle of these phrases. As I said, these parallelisms suggest a chorus-level A1 A2 / B A3 phrase rhythm. But since Parker respects every sectional division, this chorus-level structure is extremely subtle. He does not override the half-cadence at the end of the bridge, an effect which would have more firmly united the sections of the second half. At the end of a solo, it is a commonplace for the soloist to overlap the downbeat of the next chorus. This occurs at the end of Davis’s solo (fig. 3–6) and Parker’s (fig. 3–8B). This may serve two purposes: to smooth the transition from one soloist to the next, and to signal to the next soloist and the audience that the solo is complete. Nearly all standard schemes achieve harmonic closure in their final or penultimate measure, measure III or IV of the final hypermeasure. In chapters 1 and 2, I referred to the forward-looking nature of meter and the propulsive effect of strong downbeats. In contrast, weaker downbeats suggest metrical closure. Thus, standard schemes achieve simultaneous harmonic and metrical closure in their final, hypermetrically weak measures. By prolonging their final phrases past this point Parker and Davis deny this closure. On this point, Barry Kernfeld (1995) takes the opposite view. He writes: Every chorus, whether the ordinary 32–bar popular song and the 12–bar blues or something less ordinary, has a common element: the design allows it to repeat. This is achieved through a lack of coincidence between two points of arrival— the cadence on a tonic chord, which falls two (sometimes four) bars before the end of a chorus, and the strongest metric downbeat, which falls on the first bar of the next chorus. The result is a formal instability that perpetually energizes a piece, pushing it toward a simultaneous resolution of harmony and rhythm but never allowing it to reach that resolution. (41) I disagree. In fact, I would argue that placing the final cadence on “the strongest metric downbeat” (the downbeat of the next chorus) creates far more “formal instability” than the typical arrangement, in which the final cadence occurs a measure or two earlier. Indeed, I believe that some jazz clichés, including prolonging one’s solo through the downbeat of the next chorus, emerged to counter the stability inherent in the schematic relationship of melody, harmony, and meter. Similar clichés include the use of a turnaround or a dominant pedal in


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place of the chorus’s final tonic. This is especially common at the transition between the opening theme and the first variation chorus, sustaining tension into the first solo. (The solo “break” has a similar effect. In a break, the first soloist fills the final measures of the opening theme with a cadenza-like passage, while the accompanying musicians are tacet.) The scheme of “Yardbird Suite” (Parker) follows the three-part plan typical of AABA form.55 The phrase rhythm of Parker’s solo on “Yardbird” divides the chorus into two equal halves much more clearly than in “Moose”: the end of section A2 includes the only 8-phrase ending in the entire solo, reinforced by the solo’s longest rest (mm. 16–17; see fig. 3–12 below). Parker further reinforces the division of the chorus into halves by weakening the sectional division within each half, after sections A1 and B (figs. 3–9, 3–10). The second 4-phrase of section A1 (mm. 8–10) begins and ends late. Its ending coincides with the next hypermetrical downbeat: beat 10.1, the downbeat of section A2. The phrase overlaps the turnaround of section A1. A turnaround normally marks time at the end of a section, filling in a gap between phrases. But by placing a 4-phrase here, Parker reinterprets the turnaround as a cadential progression, treating measure 10 as a moment of arrival and completion rather than a beginning. The result is a conflict between meter and phrase rhythm, and a weakened boundary between sections A1 and A2. In the same way, the final phrase of the bridge suppresses the schematic half-cadence in measure 25, transforming it into an authentic cadence that terminates on the downbeat of section A3 (fig. 3–10, m. 26).

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Figure 3–9. Parker, “Yardbird Suite,” junction of A1/A2 (mm. 6–13). {20} 24

124…

Figure 3–10. Parker, “Yardbird Suite,” junction of B/A3 (mm. 22–29). {20} -124

124…

Because of these effects, if one considers only the phrase rhythm at sectional boundaries, the chorus-level phrase rhythm is binary, A1 A2 / B A3. But in Parker’s solo, elements of section A1 return in section A3, echoing the theme’s melodic reprise at this moment and implying a significant division between section B and section A3. Figure 3–11 shows these sections side by side. After their first measures, sections A1 and A3 have identical phrase rhythm. Starting at beats 2.3.5 and 26.3.5, they each contain a divided 4-phrase, with similar prosody and melodic content. (In addition, the melody in their first 4-phrases paraphrases the theme, which proceeds from C in m. 1, through Bb and Ab in m. 2, to G in m. 3 and E in m. 4.) Both 4-phrases are end accented, running into measure 6 or 30, and long rests separate them from the second 4-phrases of each section. The end-accentuation weakens the hypermetrical divisions within these sections.


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Figure 3–11. Parker, “Yardbird Suite,” sections A1 and A3. {20} 3–11A. Section A1 (mm. 1–9; overlaps first half of fig. 3–9A). 24-

-41-

24

3–11B. Section A3 (mm. 26–34; overlaps second half of 3–10). 124

-24

I have already discussed the second 4-phrase of section A1, which reinterpreted a turnaround as an authentic cadence (fig. 3–9: mm. 8–10). The corresponding phrase of A3 (fig. 3–11B: mm. 31–34) similarly postpones its ending until the next hypermetrical downbeat, which is the downbeat of the next chorus. While Parker articulates the chorus’s final cadence with scale degree 1 (m. 32), he extends tonic for several additional measures. In addition, the coincidence of a phrase beginning with the scheme’s harmonic ending weakens the sense of closure. As in “Moose,” Parker overlaps the downbeat of the next chorus. The final measures of this solo are somewhere between those of “Oleo” and those of “Moose”: as Davis did in “Oleo,” Parker affirms the scheme’s final tonic in the correct place, but as in “Moose,” he energizes this moment with a phrase-beginning rather than an ending. The similarities between section A1 and A3 go deeper than this. Section A1 opens with a short lead-in, a segment that links the end of the thematic chorus with the first variation chorus. Such a segment can serve several functions. Here, it is most naturally viewed as a prefix


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to the first 4-phrase. When the lead-in ends before the downbeat of the chorus, it might not contribute to the first chorus’s phrase rhythm at all (for example, see “Ornithology,” p. 238, analyzed in chapter 4). In a literal sense, there is no corresponding lead-in to section A3. But the late ending of the B-section’s final phrase in measure 26 creates much the same effect as the lead-in. Indeed, one might view the lead-in that opens the solo not as a prefix to the first phrase, but as a suffix to the opening theme’s final phrase (not shown). In this view, the lead-in makes the final phrase of the opening theme end-accented. The end-accented final phrase of section B brings about the same effect, within a chorus. I now turn to the phrase rhythm of sections A2 and B. Recall that Parker blurred the hypermetrical boundaries within sections A1 and A3 through end-accentuation, weakening the four-bar level of the meter (fig. 3–11). In section A2 (fig. 3–12), phrase combination serves the same purpose. The section is structured as a 4+2 combined phrase followed by a 2-phrase. The lack of any accent on beat 14.1, and the brevity of the final phrase, suggest shifting one’s perspective from the 4-phrase to the 8-phrase level. At this level, one might say the section contains a single long phrase followed by a suffix (the 2-phrase). The phrase rhythm highlights the sectional level and downplays the four-bar level. The bridge (mm. 18–26) has the squarest phrase rhythm of the solo: two 4-phrases with near-rhyming beginnings, alluding to the theme’s melodic/harmonic sequence. The 2-phrases of the first 4-phrase even feature end-rhyme, a rarity for Parker. Compared to the first 4-phrase, the second (mm. 22–26) begins in parallel but goes on too long, resulting in an unexpected end-accented 8-phrase. (Compare “Moose the Mooche,” figs. 3–8A and B, where the same false parallelism appears at the 2-phrase level.) In “Yardbird Suite,” two competing forces create chorus-level phrase rhythm. Parker downplays the divisions after sections A1 and B, and highlights the end of A2, creating a binary structure A1 A2 / B A3. Melodic and phrase-rhythmic reprise establish the opening of section A3 as a “restart” of A1. Taken together, these forces create a three-part structure, AA / B / A, matching the three-part structure of the scheme (and AABA schemes in general).


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Figure 3–12. Parker, “Yardbird Suite,” sections A2 and B. {20} (mm. 10–25; overlaps second half of fig. 3–10A and first half of 3–10B) 1241

1

-1

21

-124

I mention only a few aspects of phrase rhythm in Parker’s solo on “Dewey Square” (Parker), to show how it articulates the scheme’s three-part structure.56 As in “Yardbird Suite,” Parker links sections A1 and A2 through end-accentuation. Figure 3–13 shows their junction: beat 9.1 is the downbeat of section A2. Parker reinterprets the turnaround in measures 7 and 8 as the initial measures of an authentic cadence, just as in “Yardbird” (see fig. 3–9). The scheme of “Dewey Square” has a built-in resolution to tonic at the end of section A1, in measure 7. Parker’s reinterpretation of this moment is therefore necessary in order to minimize the sense of resolution between sections A1 and A2.

56


Chapter 3: Thirty-Two-Bar Schemes in AABA Form 100

Figure 3–13. Parker, “Dewey Square,” junction of A1/A2 (mm. 5–12). {21} 41-

124-

124…

Figure 3–14 compares the final measures of sections A2, B, and A3. In the first two cases, Parker more or less follows the scheme’s sectional division. This establishes the chorus’s three primary sections. (Note also how these endings rhyme.) Parker’s agreement with the schematic half-cadence in measure 24 is the chief difference between the chorus-level phrase rhythm in “Dewey Square” and “Yardbird Suite.” But in the chorus’s final measures (3–14C) Parker employs blue notes to weaken the scheme’s final tonic—as in “Yardbird Suite” (compare fig. 3– 11B). He affirms the chorus-level three-part structure, but leaves the chorus open-ended. Figure 3–14. Parker, “Dewey Square,” endings of sections A2, B, and A3. {21} 3–14A. End of section A2 (mm. 13–16).

3–14B. End of section B (mm. 21–24).

3–14C. End of section A3 (mm. 29–33).


Bud Powell, “Wail” (1949) 57

“Moose the Mooche” and “Oleo” might give the impression that the scheme of Rhythm changes lends itself to consonant phrase rhythm. Bud Powell’s two-chorus solo on “Wail,” a scheme based on Rhythm changes in the key of Eb, should dispel that notion. Each chorus implements a different strategy to create dissonance. In the first chorus, phrase combination and end-accentuation challenge the schematic meter; in the second, the factors of segmentation come into frequent conflict, creating “pre-analytical” dissonance. Thomas Owens calls Powell (1924–1966) “early bop’s most influential pianist” (1995: 145). Owens also compares him to Parker: “He…transferred Parker’s melodic vocabulary and phrasing to the piano” (ibid.). Powell was known for blazing tempos and occasionally overambitious virtuosity. “Wail” demonstrates his ability to produce intricate, well-formed melodies at an incredible speed—around 270 (quarter-note) beats per minute. Figure 3–15. Powell, “Wail,” mm. 1–16 (sections 1A1 and 1A2).58 {28} -12

41

57 58

-1421

1421–

The complete transcription appears on page 232. Copyright information accompanies the complete transcription, in Appendix B.


Powell divides the first chorus into two halves, although the 8-phrase division in measure 16, between the halves, is weak (fig. 3–15 above). He employs phrase combination in the first half, and end-accentuation in the second. Figure 3–15 shows the first half of chorus 1. The eight-bar sections have similar phrase rhythm: a 2-phrase followed by a 2+4 combined phrase, resulting in a highly unified sectional design that directs attention from the four-bar to the eight-bar level—appropriate for the rapid tempo. In both sections, the combined phrase begins just after beat III.1 (mm. 3 and 12). Powell extends each 2-phrase across the next hypermetrical downbeat, without a pivot note. (Compare “Moose” mm. 13 and 29, fig. 3–8.) The key difference between sections A1 and A2 is in the prosody. A1 opens with an endaccented 2-phrase (mm. 1–3), A2 with a beginning-accented 2-phrase (mm. 8–10). The first 4phrase of A2, unlike A1, avoids overlapping beat III.1 (beat 11.1), a pattern also observed in Parker. The long rest between phrases in section A2 (mm. 9–10) comes as a surprise, given the density of notes around it. The second phrases of A1 and A2 also differ. Section A1 ends consonantly on beat IV.1 (8.1), which establishes metrical stability to begin the solo. The relatively late ending of section A2, on beat 16.3.5, weakens the division before the bridge. A single eighth-rest occurring within an otherwise-unbroken flow of eighth-notes, presented at a rate of around nine notes per second, barely registers. Despite the combined phrases within sections A1 and A2, and the weakness of this division, the beginning of the solo is very consonant compared to what follows. Figure 3–16 shows the second half of chorus 1. The bridge opens with an end-accented 2phrase, part of an end-accented 8-phrase in measures 16 to 25. The second 2-phrase (mm. 19– 21) at first seems as though it will end on beat 21.1, a two-bar rhyme with the previous ending in measure 19. A brief extension overrides the rhyme. The final 4-phrase of the bridge (mm. 23–25) begins six measures after the previous 4-phrase began (m. 17), while parallelism would dictate an interval of four measures. The bridge’s three phrases end at progressively later points in the measure: beat 19.1, then beat 21.3, and finally beat 25.4. Powell stretches endaccentedness as far as it will go, gradually decoupling from the meter.


Figure 3–16. Powell, “Wail,” second half of chorus 1 (mm. 17–32). {28} 42

-14-

24-

244…

The bridge’s final phrase spills well into section 1A3. This spillage, and the beginningrhyme around beats 23.1 and 27.1, blur the boundary between sections 1B and 1A3. The 4phrases on either side of this boundary are highly dissonant with the meter: they both begin very late. In measure 29, the two-note fragment G–Bb begins to re-align the phrasing with the meter. I hear this fragment as coming in the middle of a 4+4 combined phrase. This unusual interpretation is due to its register and metrical placement, which endow it with great potential energy for the long descent that follows. It therefore sounds like a new beginning, aligned with the hypermetrical downbeat, but one that comes at the end of a longer segment; hence, the last part of a combined phrase. The phrase overlap on beat 33.1, the downbeat of the next chorus, finally realigns grouping and meter. The pivot note occurs at a registral low point, highlighting its status. The extraordinary dissonance of this passage suggests a plausible alternative analysis. Figure 3–17 reinterprets the segments in measures 19 to 21 and 23 to 25 as 2+2 combined phrases rather than end-accented 4-phrases. How does this change reflect a different perception of the passage? The clearest difference is in the phrase-endings in measures 21 and 25. According to figure 3–16, these endings conclude end-accented 4-phrases, and so should sound


closed off from what follows. According to figure 3–17, these endings occur within larger 4phrases, suggesting continuity with what follows. In that figure, these endings conclude 2+2 combined phrases: somewhere around beats 21.1, 25.1, and 29.1, the phrase transitions from a function of ending to a function of beginning as it crosses a hypermetrical downbeat. By the same token, according to figure 3–16, the phrase-beginnings in measures 23 and 26 sound like they initiate new gestures; in figure 3–17, however, these beginnings should seem more like the continuation of what preceded them. I find I can hear the passage either way. I prefer the interpretation shown in figure 3–16 because of two main factors: contour and IOI. The descending contour in measures 21 and 25 suggests the ending of a 4-phrase, as in figure 3–16, rather than the first part of a new 4-phrase, as in figure 3–17. Similarly, the ascending contour in measures 23 and 26 suggests the beginning of a 4-phrase (fig. 3–16) rather than the continuation of an ongoing 4-phrase (fig. 3–17). Finally, the long rests between segments in measures 21 to 27 suggests 4-phrase division rather than a pause between 2-phrases. Nevertheless, the fact that two plausible, contradictory interpretations are possible illustrates the dissonance of this passage. (Contrast this ambiguity with m. 25 of “Oleo,” fig. 3–5, in which an end-accented phrase also occurs at the end of the bridge, but the phrase rhythm remains quite transparent.)


Figure 3–17. Powell, “Wail”: Alternative interpretation of 1B and 1A3. {28} -14-

42

24-

244…

The second chorus comprises four 8-phrases, with no end-accentuation. This outward consonance belies hidden tensions among factors of segmentation. Figure 3–18 shows the first half of the second chorus. Section 2A1 (mm. 33–40) contains two beginning-accented 4phrases, with the only dissonance coming from the displaced rhyme in measures 35 and 40. Section 2A2 (mm. 41–48) begins in similarly consonant fashion, but grows suddenly dissonant at its end. Structured like section 1B of “Oleo” (fig. 3–5), it contains three parallel 2-phrases, and a fourth that deviates from the norm established by the first three (mm. 46–48). Although the final 2-phrase ends within the hypermeasure, it ends on a note of uncertainty, owing to the ascending octatonic scale, the relative instability of the chordal sixth, and the short IOI before the first phrase of the bridge. Contour also contradicts the 8-phrase division in measure 48: 8phrases do not usually end on a high note. The only other support for the division comes from the strength of beat 48.1.


Figure 3–18. Powell, “Wail,” sections 2A1, 2A2 (mm. 33–48). {28} 421–

…42

-1-

41

-1

21

The phrase divisions in sections 2B and 2A3, shown in figure 3–19, are similarly conflicted. First of all, the bridge’s two 4-phrases overlap on beat 53.1. The first 4-phrase (mm. 49–53) is undivided and end-accented. The G on beat 53.1 is not only the end of this phrase, but also a one-note prefix to the next phrase. This note’s role in the next 4-phrase is established by two factors: its high register, giving it potential energy, and its initiation of a middleground chromatic descent terminating on D, beat 56.3. Within measures 53 to 56, several possible points of division present themselves. I place a 2-phrase division in measure 54. In context, the IOI at this point is unexceptional, but coupled with the strength of beat 55.1, it creates a weak division. Nevertheless, section 2B unfolds as a single, long gesture; these divisions are mere bumps in the road. A conflict between IOI and strong beat occurs between measures 56 and 57. Strong beat suggests placing a 4-phrase division as close to beat 57.1 as possible. But the lengthy rest after beat 57.3 suggests joining the segment in measure 57 with the previous 4-phrase, as a suffix to the bridge (imagine a dotted square ending-bracket in m. 57). However, the 2-phrase that begins on beat 59.1 retroactively suggests hearing beat 57.1 as a parallel point of beginning, not as the ending of the bridge’s last phrase: a 2-phrase that begins on beat III.1 (59.1) implies one


on beat I.1 (57.1). This weak rhyme, coupled with the innate strength of beat 57.1, are enough to suggest an 8-phrase division at the end of measure 56. (Perceptually, I hear the segment in m. 57 as a new beginning, answered in m. 59.) Figure 3–19. Powell, “Wail,” sections 2B, 2A3 (mm. 49–64). {28} -441-

21-

4-

21-

421-

A final conflict occurs in measure 60, this time between motive and strong beat. The 4phrase division in measure 60 receives support from both the following strong beat and an eighth-rest. But the ascending-arpeggio motive, begun in measure 59, continues across the 4phrase boundary and into measure 61. This weakens the 4-phrase division without destroying it. Like Davis, Powell brings his solo to a close within the boundaries of the final chorus. Unlike Davis, he does not fill the space between the close of his solo and the next chorus. This is because the theme has a two-bear anacrusis, and the horns begin to play it on beat 64.3 (not shown). Therefore, there is almost no gap between the end of his solo and the theme’s return, even though his solo appears to leave two empty beats. The differing strategies of each chorus create two different kinds of tension. In chorus 1, combination and end-accentuation create tension evident in both the analytical notation and the recording. Based on the analytical notation alone, chorus 2 appears less dissonant than chorus 1. The tension between segmentation factors that occurs in this chorus is pre-analytical:


it must be resolved by the analyst one way or another in order to perform the phrase-rhythm analysis, and it is concealed by the brackets. But the analysis of this chorus as a series of consonant phrases belies the breathless quality of the phrasing and the weakness of the sectional divisions.

Conclusion

I opened this chapter with the claim that AABA form is essentially a three-part structure. Having surveyed five solos, I can draw a few tentative conclusions. First, the soloists here consistently respect the boundary between sections A2 and B, dividing the chorus into symmetrical halves, A1 A2 / B A3. (Indeed, in an informal survey of some other solos by Parker, I found no examples of his overlapping this boundary.) The form’s other key division, after the bridge, is often overridden by end-accentuation or combination, transforming the schematic half-cadence (and the Schenkerian interruption) into something more like an authentic cadence, completed on the downbeat of section A3. This suggests that if soloists conceive of AABA form as having two parts, it is not along the lines suggested by Terefenko (AAB/A), but rather as AA/BA. One possible explanation for this tendency is the desire to increase tension towards the end of the chorus. The elision of a sectional boundary certainly accomplishes this. These points beg further study. All of the solos analyzed here date from before 1955. I daresay soloists’ treatment of sectional boundaries grew more adventurous as the ’50s and ‘60s progressed, in parallel with their treatment of other musical features.

109

Chapter 4: Thirty-Two-Bar Schemes in ABAC Form ABAC Form

Perhaps slightly less common than schemes in AABA form are those in the form ABAC. Each letter represents an eight-bar hypermeasure (“section”), as before. While AABA form has essentially three parts (AA / B / A), schemes in ABAC form (A1 B A2 C) have essentially two parts, A1 B / A2 C. The two sections of each half—A1 and B, A2 and C—often blend smoothly into one another, harmonically. The return of material from section A to mark the beginning of the second half creates the most significant formal boundary.59 The designation ABAC might imply that the A sections are entirely identical and that sections B and C are entirely different. In fact, the second half often reprises more or less than eight measures of the first half. The three tunes analyzed below illustrate this flexibility: in “Pennies From Heaven” (Johnston), the halves share only their first four measures; in “Ornithology” (Parker/Lewis), the halves share twelve measures; only in “My Romance” (Rodgers and Hart) are the A sections identical and the B and C sections entirely different. Since the boundaries of “sections” can be blurry, strictly speaking, the alphabetic labels designate eight-bar hypermeasures. The three schemes in question all follow the harmonic model typical of the form, achieving a half cadence in measure 15 or 16 at the end of section B, followed by a turnaround and a reprise. Each chorus is a parallel interrupted period. In some ABAC schemes, though none of the ones analyzed here, the harmonic goal of the B section is not the dominant, but some other non-tonic harmony. For example, in “If I Were a Bell” (Loesser) and “The Touch of Your Lips” (Noble), the B section features a modulation to III# and a rather hasty remodulation before the downbeat of section A2. But even when the harmonic goal of the first half does not appear to be a half-cadence, the return of the opening material at the midpoint creates the form’s deepest division.

In this I agree with Terefenko (2004), who writes, “The return of the opening A at the beginning of the second half partitions the form into two large sections” (80). 59

Chapter 4: Thirty-Two-Bar Schemes in ABAC Form 110

As in the previous chapter, the solos here each exhibit different techniques of phrase rhythm. On “Pennies From Heaven,” Stan Getz uses an incredible variety of rhyming structures. For the second solo of the chapter, I return to Charlie Parker, and a 1950 recording of “Ornithology.” Parker’s chorus-level phrase rhythm fluctuates between consonance and dissonance. Finally, Bill Evans’s 1961 version of “My Romance” inverts the typical treatment of phrase rhythm, employing more dissonant structures at the beginning of the solo than at the end. Stan Getz, “Pennies From Heaven” (1957)60

In the scheme of “Pennies From Heaven” (fig. 4–1), section A1 (mm. 1–8) contains two repetitions of a four-bar motion from I to V. Section B (mm. 9–16) follows the “Monte” progression of classical music: sequential tonicization of IV then V, culminating in a half cadence.61 Within the second half, the tonicization of IV occurs after only five measures, rather than nine. The scheme consequently loses some energy at measure 25: IV is the last harmony of section A2 (m. 23–24) and the first harmony of section C (m. 25), filling three successive measures across an eight-bar downbeat. This creates harmonic stasis at an important formal juncture. Figure 4–1. “Pennies From Heaven” (Johnston): metrical-harmonic scheme. A1:

B:

Measures:

|1–4

|5–8

|9–12

Harmony:

|I  HC |I  HC |(V) IV

|13–16

|

|(V) V

|

A2:

C:

Measures:

|17–20 |21–24

|25–28

|29–32 |

Harmony:

|I  HC |(V) IV

|IV –bVII–V/ii

|PAC (I) |

Saxophonist Stan Getz (1927–1991) exemplifies the “cool” style of jazz, a lyrical style of ‘50s post-bop. He is most widely known for his forays into Latin jazz in the ‘60s, although he was also considered one of the premier tenors of the ‘50s (Giddins and Deveaux 2009: 521– 522). The title of his composition “Prezervation” pays homage to one of his stylistic models, 60 61

The complete transcription appears on page 234. The “Monte” progression was given its name by Joseph Riepel in the 1750s (Eckert 2000).


tenor Lester “Prez” Young, who predates the bebop era and was, like Getz, known for a relaxed style (Martin and Waters 2002: 211). Reflecting its distance from bebop, Getz’s solo departs from the solos of chapter 3 in many ways. He employs no true end-accented 4-phrases, only pseudo-end-accented phrases, a technique explained below.62 He creates variety and interest through phrase length, combination, and rhyme. The phrases grow shorter as the solo progresses. Every 4-phrase of the last chorus is divided, while only half are divided in the first chorus (in fact, exactly every other 4-phrase). The amount of division gradually increases across choruses 2 and 3. Metrical rhyme establishes deep-level consonances in choruses 1 and 2, while it only occurs at lower metrical levels in chorus 3. Of all factors of phrase rhythm, division and rhyme contribute most to a sense of long-range development in this solo. Adding to the solo’s general consonance, Getz never plays combined phrases across the boundary between sections A2 and C (the twenty-fifth measure of each chorus). He combines across each of the other sectional downbeats at least twice in the four-chorus solo. As I mentioned above, the schematic harmony at this point is static: three successive measures of IV, on either side of the downbeat. By consistently beginning a phrase at this point, Getz reinforces the hypermetrical downbeat. Without a new phrase here, the solo might lose energy from the lack of harmonic motion. Getz tends to avoid following the two-part plan of the scheme. Only in the final chorus does he articulate the chorus midpoint with a half-cadence and new phrase. In the other choruses, he overlaps the downbeat of section A2, undercutting the half-cadence (see figs. 4– 2B, 4–3, and 4–4 below). This highlights the unity of the chorus as a whole and minimizes the separation between the two halves. Getz calls further attention to the chorus-level with phraseendings on tonic to conclude the first and second choruses. Only between the third and fourth choruses does Getz play a phrase across the chorus boundary, which creates a climax of phraserhythm dissonance. Perhaps to compensate for this peak of dissonance, Getz’s grouping structure confirms all of the sectional boundaries in chorus 4.

I have observed the same absence of end-accented phrases in Getz’s solo on “Sunday,” another medium-tempo tune from the same album (with the Oscar Peterson Trio). Further study might determine whether a lack of this phrase-type characterizes Getz’s oeuvre of this period. 62


There are two phrase overlaps in the solo, shown in figure 4–2. The first occurs in measures 1 to 7 (fig. 4–2A). The second 2-phrase (mm. 3–4) begins as though it will rhyme with the first, forming an end-accented 4-phrase that ends in measure 5. But the final note of this rhyme also begins a new segment, the 4-phrase in measures 5 to 7 that completes the 8-phrase. This overlap unifies section A1. The second overlap occurs at the midpoint of the second chorus (fig. 4–2B). Like the overlap in measure 5, it couples a late-beginning 2-phrase with the next 4-phrase. Figure 4–2. Getz, “Pennies From Heaven”: overlapping phrases.63 {16} 4–2A. mm. 1–8. -12

1421 –

4–2B. mm. 45–52 (overlap at downbeat of section 2A2). 141

-12

21-

In the examples I have presented so far, combined phrases often appear to be single phrases, comprising a single melodic gesture or repeated motive that happens to overlap a hypermetrical downbeat. Not so in this solo. Every combined phrase appears to contain two distinct segments whose boundaries have been blended together, like a phrase overlap without

63



a pivot note. This is suggested by motivic content, rhythm, or contour. Getz transforms the end of the first segment into the beginning of the next segment, but it is impossible to pinpoint exactly where. The first example of this appears at the midpoint of the first chorus (fig. 4–3A). In measures 15 and 16, a gesture of conclusion blends into one of initiation. A potential phraseending occurs on beat 16.1. But Getz immediately repeats the same gesture, reinterpreted as an anacrusis. The transition between phrase-ending and phrase-beginning does not occur at any distinct point in measure 16. Rather, it is gradual, taking place “somewhere” in the measure. The phrase truly combines two different phrases. Figure 4–3. Getz, “Pennies From Heaven,” combination across an 8-bar downbeat. {16} 4–3A. mm. 13-20. 441

21

4–3B. Grouping structure. m. 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] 8: 4: 2:

[

4+2

][

2

]

Unlike previous examples, this combined phrase overlaps an eight-bar downbeat. Figure 4–3B shows the consequences of this for the grouping structure. There is no 4-phrase level or 8phrase level. The bracket in measure 20 is unusual: a 2-phrase ending bracket, placed at the end of a four-bar hypermeasure. It might seem more natural to place a 4-phrase (square) ending bracket here. But by definition, such a bracket shows the end of a discrete, coherent melodic segment occupying a four-bar hypermeasure (a 4-phrase). No such segment ends here: there is


no phrase-beginning four measures earlier. In consequence, there is no level of grouping structure above the 2-phrase level. In previous examples of combined phrases (see, e.g., fig. 3– 15 above), the 4-phrase level was suppressed by the combined phrase, but the 8-phrase level persisted, because the phrase combination occurred within an eight-bar hypermeasure. Here, however, since the combination occurs across an eight-bar downbeat, no higher level of grouping structure can emerge. In many more examples below, I use only 2-phrase brackets when there is no 4-phrase or 8-phrase level, as in figure 4–3A. This reflects highly dissonant phrase rhythm. The same type of combination—including nearly the same chromatic figure—appears in measures 77 to 81, across the midpoint of chorus 3 (see fig. 4–4). Again, it is clear that somewhere in measure 79 or 80, the end of a phrase becomes the beginning of another phrase. That is, the complete phrase seems to combine two distinct units. But the moment of transition is perhaps even more difficult to pinpoint than in the previous example. Compared to figure 4–3, in figure 4–4, Getz ends the combined phrase earlier within the next hypermeasure—measure I (m. 81). But the strength of this downbeat and the presentation of a new motive in measure 81 grants this ending great energy, signaling that it actually begins the next 2-phrase. Figure 4–4. Getz, “Pennies From Heaven,” more combination. {16} -1241

4–4A. mm. 77–84.

2-


4–4B. Grouping structure. m. 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] 4: 2:

[

1:

[

4+2 4+1

][

2

]

][ 1 ]

Several other combined phrases follow the same pattern. (See fig. 4–5.) One example occurs in measures 70 to 73 (fig. 4–5A). The transition between segments occurs somewhere in measure 72; note the ascending chromatic melody near this point, as in measure 80 (fig. 4–4). Another combined phrase occupies measures 107 to 111 (fig. 4–5B). Here, the transition between segments occurs somewhere in measure 108, brought out most clearly by the shift in contour on beat 108.3. Two other phrases employ this technique. In measures 114 to 117 (fig. 4–5B), the second portion of the 2+1 combined phrase begins somewhere in measure 116. This segment is foreshortened: it ends just before the next hypermetrical downbeat, on beat 116.4.5, and it borrows its final accent from beat 117.1. The immediate recurrence of the high A in the subsequent measures forms a link between the phrase-ending in measure 116/117 and the next 4-phrase, which is why I interpret measures 114 to 117 as a 2+1 combined phrase rather than merely the end of a 4-phrase. (Below, I discuss the unusual 1+1 combined phrase in measures 117–119). Figure 4–5. Getz, “Pennies From Heaven”: more combination. {16} 4–5A. mm. 69–76 (2+1). 241

-21


4–5B. mm. 105–120 (2+2, 2+1, 1+1). -1-

-141-

21-

124

4-

1-

12

-2421-

4–5C. mm. 37–44 (4+4).

As a final example of this type, consider the phrase that overlaps beat 41.1, the downbeat of section 2B (fig. 4–5C). Here, a plausible phrase-ending arrives on beat 39.3, but Getz suppresses it by continuing the eighth-note rhythm and introducing of a new motive in measure 40. Therefore, the transition between segments of the 4+4 combined phrase occurs relatively early in the hypermeasure, somewhere in measure 39, before the entrance of the new motive. (This phrase crosses an eight-bar downbeat, so it cannot be an 8-phrase.)


I would describe several of these combined phrases as pseudo-end-accented. I apply this term to a combined phrase that ends at or very near beat I.1. It thus has the metrical characteristics of an end-accented phrase. But for melodic or motivic reasons, it also forms an essential part of the next phrase: the content of its final notes is developed or repeated in subsequent phrases. The combined phrases ending in measures 73, 81, and 117 are pseudoend-accented (figs. 4–5A, 4–4, and 4–5B). In all three cases, the final note or motive forms the first 1-phrase of the next 2-phrase, reinforced by its immediate repetition in the next segment. These phrases creates greater melodic continuity than end-accented phrases, while having the same metrical energy. They are also less dissonant with the meter: end-accented phrases create dissonance by superimposing a melodic ending at a point of metrical beginning; pseudo-endaccented phrases attenuate the sense of melodic closure by introducing a new motive or figure, coinciding with the hypermetrical downbeat. This phrase-type seldom occurs in the other solos in this dissertation. Figure 4–6A shows the only plausible end-accented phrase of the solo, at the junction of choruses 3 and 4, in measures 94 to 97. As analyzed in figure 4–6B, the excerpt contains an end-accented 4-phrase with a short prefix followed by an un-accented 4-phrase. This analysis implies a deep division after the phrase-ending in measure 97, made stronger by the choruslevel boundary. The interpretation in 4–6C, however, implies much more continuity between the ending in measure 97 and the next segment. In this view, measure 97 contains a prefix to a 4-phrase, smoothly blended with the end of the previous 4-phrase. As in other ambiguous cases, I find I can hear the excerpt either way. But ultimately I prefer the interpretation of 4–6C. The excerpt as a whole contains a 4+4 combined phrase, with the combination obscured somewhat by the division of each 4-phrase into a prefix and a larger segment. Two features stand out in support of this view: the final note of measure 97 is the first note of the next segment (though after a long IOI), linking the prefix to the main part of the phrase; and the resulting 4-phrases are parallel in structure. Measures 93 to 96 establish the model, prefix/4-phrase, which is repeated in measures 97 to 100.


Figure 4–6. Getz, “Pennies From Heaven”: An end-accented phrase? {16} 4–6A. mm. 93–100.

4–6B. As an end-accented phrase.

4–6C. As phrase combination.

This solo contains more rhymes than any other I have considered, including rhymes at the measure, two-measure, and four-measure levels, as well as syncopated rhymes—rhymes at nonmetrical time intervals. Two-measure and four-measure rhymes appear near the beginning and end of the solo, with one-measure and syncopated rhymes creating dissonance in the middle choruses. Measure-level rhyme tends to occur in the first two measures of a hypermeasure, often with varied rhythm, as part of a 1/1/2 sentential structure. Measures 73 and 74 are typical (fig. 4–5A above). While the final attack in measure 73 comes on beat 3, the parallel attack in 74 comes on beat 2.5; but the rhyme is evident regardless: the eighth-note anticipation in the


second instance prevents monotony without destroying the resemblance. Similar rhymes occur in measures 81 to 82 and 105 to 106 (figs. 4–4 and 4–5B, above). The measure-level rhyme in measures 51 to 52 differs from previous examples in that it falls in the second half of a hypermeasure, and in the exactness of the repetition (fig. 4–7). In fact, measures 51 to 54 place a 1/1/2 sentential structure across a hypermetrical downbeat, unifying the 8-phrase in measures 49 to 56. Figure 4–7. Getz, “Pennies From Heaven”: Unusual 1–measure rhyme (mm. 49–56). {16} …41

21-

-21

-1

All of the measure-level rhymes occur between measures 51 and 106, the middle portion of the solo. Higher-level rhymes characterize other portions of the solo, and affirm deeper consonance between meter and melody. The solo opens with a rhyming pair of end-accented 2phrases (fig. 4–2A). Another two-measure rhyme appears in measures 9 to 11 (fig. 4–8A below). These segments feature minimal variation and highlight the metrical symmetry of the hypermeasure. Similar passages appear in figures 4–8B, C, D, and E. Like measure-level rhymes, rhymes at the two-measure level often include some rhythmic variation. As a rule, differences between rhyming segments must not be so great that they affect the prosody. Figure 4–8. Getz, “Pennies From Heaven”: Two-measure rhymes. {16} 4–8A. mm. 9–12. 4-

41-

2-

4–8B. mm. 25–28. 21-


4–8C. mm. 33–36. 41

21

4–8D. mm. 109–112. 41-

21-

4–8E. mm. 121–124. -1-

-1-

Getz also employs syncopated rhymes, which often appear to be distortions of metrical rhymes. A syncopated, near-two-measure rhyme occurs in measures 81 to 83 (fig. 4–9A)(also the site of a one-measure rhyme). I understand beat 83.3 as a two-beat anticipation of beat 84.1, where it would rhyme exactly with the 2-phrase ending in measure 82. Therefore, the onemeasure rhyme in measures 81 to 82 is exact, but the possible two-measure rhyme in bar 84 occurs two beats early, destroying the prosodic connection between the 2-phrases. Syncopated measure-level rhyme appears within the 2-phrase in measures 103 to 104 (fig. 4–9B), a quotation from the Gershwins’ “Fascinatin’ Rhythm.” (The quotation continues into m. 106, overlapping and weakening a sectional boundary.) Figure 4–9. Getz, “Pennies From Heaven”: syncopated rhymes. {16} 4–9A. Syncopated two-measure rhyme (mm. 81–84). …41

2-


4–9B. One-measure rhyme (mm. 101–108). 41-

21-

A comparable displacement at the four-measure level can be found in measures 25 to 31 (fig. 4–10). The phrase-endings in measures 26 and 28 rhyme exactly at the two-measure level. The ending in measure 31 resembles those endings (substituting a half-note for a dottedquarter), and completes the middleground descent from G5 to C5 begun in measure 25. But the ending arrives in measure III of the hypermeasure, while the previous endings occurred in measures II and IV. It is thus displaced by a measure, an anticipation of measure 32. Figure 4–10. Getz, “Pennies From Heaven”: 4–measure syncop. rhyme (mm. 25–32). {16} 41-

21-

-12-

I have analyzed two 4-phrases from this solo in an unusual way, measures 64 to 68 and 117 to 120. (Fig. 4–11 shows mm. 64–68; mm. 117–120 are structurally identical.) The 4phrase is divided into four 1-phrases, but the middle two 1-phrases are combined, forming the pattern 1/1+1/1. Figure 4–11B presents the grouping structure: the 2-phrase level is suppressed, but the 4-phrase level remains. The intricate construction of measures 64 to 68 arises through a combination of implied grouping structure and metrical rhyme. Beat 64.4 rhymes with 65.4, establishing these as parallel 1-phrase beginnings. Beat 65.1 rhymes with 66.4.5 (borrowing from 67.1), establishing these as parallel 2-phrase beginnings. This means


that the segment in measures 65 to 67 has both a one-measure and a two-measure rhyme with the previous segment: it contains an answering 1-phrase (through the one-measure rhyme) and the first part of an answering 2-phrase (through the two-measure rhyme). A comparable onemeasure rhyme in measures 67 to 68 suggests that the second 2-phrase has the same 1+1 design. A final rhyme appears in measure 68: beat 68.2 is a displaced (syncopated) rhyme of beat 66.4, tying off the 4-phrase. Figure 4–11. Getz, “Pennies From Heaven”: a 4-phrase, 1/1+1/1. {16} 4–11A. mm. 64–68. syncop. rhyme

1-m. rhyme

1-m. rhyme 2-m. rhyme

4–11B. Grouping structure. m. 65 66 67 68 69 [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] 4:

[

4

]

[ 1 ][ 1+1

][ 1 ]

2: 1:

Even though this solo contains no end-accented phrases, Getz’s skilled use of phrase combination and rhyme produces engaging phrase rhythm. He creates dissonance through combination across sectional boundaries. The solo ends like Davis’s “Oleo”: Getz reinforces the scheme’s tonal closure on beat 127.1, and uses a linking passage to ease the transition to the next chorus (fig. 4–12). Figure 4–12. Getz, “Pennies From Heaven,” end of solo (mm. 125–128). {16} -124


Charlie Parker, “Ornithology” (1950)64

The melodic scheme of “Ornithology,” composed by Parker himself, is based on the harmonies of the standard “How High the Moon” (Lewis). Sections A1 and A2 of “Ornithology” are identical (fig. 4–13A). There are two small differences between sections B and C (fig. 4–13B). Their first four measures are identical, except the tonic chord in the third measure of each section: in section B, the chord is minor, while in C, it is major. But neither Parker nor the rhythm section always respects this difference, and the measures are effectively indistinguishable. In their second hypermeasures, sections B and C differ only in harmonic rhythm. Section B contains a standard turnaround, with one chord per measure, so that the downbeat of the next section coincides with the arrival on tonic after the turnaround. In section C, the same progression occurs at the rate of two chords per measure, so that tonic arrives two measures before the end of the chorus. Figure 4–13. “Ornithology” (Parker): Metrical-harmonic scheme. 4–13A. Sections A1 and A2. Measures:

|1–4/17–20 |5–8/21–24

|

Harmony:

|I  (V)

|

|bVII  V/bVI

4–13B. Sections B and C, compared. Differences are underlined. Measure:

|9/25

|10/26 |11/27 |12/28 |13/29 |14/30 |15/31 |16/32

Section B:

|bVI

|ii–V

|i

|i

|(ii–

Section C:

|bVI

|ii–V

|I

|I

|(ii–V) |ii–V

| -V) |ii |I

|V |V

Though this difference would seem to be essential to the harmonic structure of the chorus—the first half is unresolved, the second, resolved—neither Parker nor the rhythm section consistently respects it. It is as though he is playing over a sixteen-measure scheme. In a multichorus performance like this one, the last four measures of each chorus can serve either of two roles: provide temporary closure, or sustain tension to accent the tonic arrival on the downbeat of the next chorus. The soloist’s selection of one or the other affects the large-scale plan. In “Pennies From Heaven,” Getz provided melodic closure at the end of the first two choruses, but suppressed it at the end of the third chorus. On the other hand, Parker tends to sustain

64



tension through the end of the chorus. Figure 4–14 shows the final measures of the first three choruses. In the first chorus, Parker follows the scheme’s resolution to tonic on beat 33.1 (fig. 4–14A), but the melody abruptly disintegrates. Similarly, at the end of chorus 2 (fig. 4–14B), Parker’s melody is ambiguous, seeming to sustain mediant harmony through measures 63 and 64. Here, the rhythm section denies tonic arrival by using a slower harmonic rhythm, as though it were the end of section B, not C. Despite the lack of decisive melodic closure, a long rest at the end of choruses 1 and 2 still reinforces the chorus boundary. In other words, the grouping structure is highly consonant with the scheme, even if the harmony is vague or open-ended. At the end of chorus 3 (fig. 4–14C), Parker’s melody implies the slower harmonic rhythm of section B. Here, Parker, like Getz, increases tension by playing straight into the fourth chorus— but only overlapping it by a single note (m. 99). Figure 4–14. Parker, “Ornithology,” end of choruses 1, 2, 3. {23} 4–14A. End of chorus 1 (mm. 31–34).

4–14B. End of chorus 2 (mm. 59–66).

4–14C. End of chorus 3 (mm. 95–99).

Parker’s phrase rhythm does not create a gradual rise and fall of dissonance across the whole solo. Instead, choruses 1 and 3 are consonant, while choruses 2 and 4 are dissonant. Dissonance arises through phrase combination and asymmetry—like Getz, in this recording Parker uses no true end-accented phrases. (This is unusual: end-accented phrases are common in Parker’s other work, including the performances discussed in chapter 3.) Parker accords no special status to the chorus midpoint, the key schematic division of ABAC form. This accords with his treatment of the two halves as harmonically interchangeable—since the second half does not attain tonic closure, there is nothing to


distinguish it from the first. In choruses 1 and 3, Parker places a phrase boundary at the chorus midpoint and at the beginning of section B. On the other hand, in choruses 2 and 4, Parker plays a combined phrase across the chorus midpoint, and across at least one other sectional boundary. In other words, he does not treat the chorus midpoint differently from the other eight-bar downbeats. Contrast this with Parker’s typical phrase rhythm on schemes in AABA form, in which he always indicates the chorus midpoint (the bridge) with a new phrase, mirroring the scheme’s division at this point. The first chorus opens with two 8-phrases. Their phrase rhythm recurs in chorus 3 in modified form. After a two-measure break, the solo opens with a pair of un-accented 4-phrases (fig. 4–15). (“Moose the Mooche,” in the previous chapter, begins in the same way; see fig. 3– 7A.) This opening establishes a consonant reference against which the solo’s later dissonances are set. A similar 8-phrase appears in measures 83 to 90, in section 3A2 (fig. 4–16). Though the first 4-phrase is divided, both 4-phrases are un-accented and end rather late in their hypermeasures, and the effect is very similar to the opening of the solo. In section 3A2, the 8phrase offers a final taste of consonance before the dissonance of the fourth chorus. Figure 4–15. Parker, “Ornithology,” section 1A1 (mm. 3–10). {23} -21-

-121-

Figure 4–16. Parker, “Ornithology,” section 3A2 (mm. 83–90). {23} -12

-121-

1-


The second 8-phrase of chorus 1 (fig. 4–17) overlaps its internal hypermetrical downbeat (15.1) through phrase combination. Its beginning (m. 11) rhymes with the beginning of the previous 4-phrase (fig. 4–15: m. 7), forging a connection across the sectional divide. (It also rhymes with the beginning of the next 2-phrase on beat 13.2.5). The 8-phrase ends quite early in the hypermeasure (17.1), leaving room for a long anacrusis to the next 8-phrase. Figure 4–17. Parker, “Ornithology,” section 1B (mm. 11–18). {23} -14-

-1-

12

In outline, the phrase rhythm of section 3A1 (fig. 4–18) is similar: it contains a pair of divided 4-phrases with a combined middle phrase: 2/2+2/2. But unlike the earlier phrase, it begins developmentally: its first 4-phrase is divided into an initial idea (a quotation from “There Will Never Be Another You”) and an extended repetition of that idea. Its final 2-phrase comes very late in the hypermeasure (mm. 73–74), rather than very early. The same essential phrase rhythm can take on very different forms at the surface. Figure 4–18. Parker, “Ornithology,” section 3A1 (mm. 66–74). {23} -41

-241

1-

In the second half of the chorus, Parker’s phrase rhythm grows considerably more adventurous (fig. 4–19). The opening 2-phrase begins too early (m. 18), overlapping a full measure of the preceding hypermeasure; it introduces the main motive of the 4-phrase, an ascending arpeggio in sixteenth-notes, which persists until measure 21. Although hypermeter


suggests treating measures 18 to 22 as a single 4-phrase, the short IOI between phrases in measure 22, and long IOI before measure 20, challenges this interpretation: the longest IOI in the passage occurs in the middle of this 4-phrase. Nevertheless, in this case, the factors of motive and strong beat support treating measures 18 through 22 as a discrete 4-phrase. Figure 4–19. Parker, “Ornithology,” section 1A2, parts of 1B and 1C (mm. 15–30). {23}

14

-42-

12

Figure 4–19B. Grouping structure. m. 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] 4:

[

4

][

2:

[

4 2

][

] 2

]

On the surface: m. 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 [Main phrase|suffix ] [

2

][

2

]

The next hypermeasure (mm. 23–26) contains parts of two segments. The segment in measures 26 to 27 is highly ambiguous. At first, it might appear to be only a suffix to the 4phrase whose main portion ends in measure 25. The melodic parallelism between measures 25


and 26, and the short IOI between these segments, support this interpretation. But the segment also rhymes with the next segment in measures 27 to 29. Though this rhyme is in prosody only, I find it extremely salient: if one considers measures 26 to 29 in isolation, they evidently seem like a parallel pair of 2-phrases. I hear the segment in measures 26 to 27 simultaneously as both a suffix and the first 2-phrase of the next 4-phrase: an afterthought to measures 22 to 25, and a segment that initiates a new idea with the next hypermetrical downbeat, answered in parallel two measures later. (Figure 4–19B shows this abstractly.) This extends of the concept of “phrase overlap” from a single pivot note to an entire “pivot segment.” This is distinct from a combined phrase: there is a discrete set of segments in measures 22 to 27 that occupies a hypermeasure, and so it is a closed 4-phrase; there is also a discrete set of segments in measures 26 to 29 that does the same thing; these sets of segments simply happen to share one segment. If there were a combined phrase, it would be impossible to point to specific locations where each phrase began and ended; but since this is possible, it is an instance of overlap. Choruses 2 and 4 contain no 8-phrases. Instead, they contain many combined phrases, which often overlap sectional boundaries. Some of these involve pseudo-end-accentuation, as in “Pennies From Heaven.” One such case comes in measure 43, on the border between sections 2A1 and 2B (fig. 4–20). Two factors suggest hearing measure 43 as the initiation of a new 4phrase rather than the ending of an end-accented 4-phrase (imagine a dotted-square bracket in m. 43). First, the rising contour and change in rhythm in measure 43 imply a beginning, rather than an ending. Second, the attack on beat 45.1, beat III.1 of the hypermeasure, retroactively reinforces hearing a parallel initiation on beat I.1 (43.1). Figure 4–20. Parker, “Ornithology”: Pseudo-end-accentuation (mm. 39–46). {23} -124-

21

Parker plays another pseudo-end-accented phrase at the end of chorus 2, in measures 59 to 63 (fig. 4–21). (The final D on beat 62.4.5 borrows the accent of beat 63.1.) There is a motivic


connection between the last portion of the 4+1 combined phrase (mm. 59–63) and the next segment. Both are centered on D4 with C4 as lower neighbor. This argues against hearing a deep phrase division in measure 63, and in support of the 4+1 combined phrase. Figure 4–21. Parker, “Ornithology,” section 2C (mm. 59–67). {23} 44

1-

Pseudo-end-accentuation also occurs at the border between chorus 3 and 4 (fig. 4–22). Drawing a connection between the phrase-ending on beat 99.1 (a hypermetrical downbeat) and the following segment requires knowledge of another scheme, “Poinciana” (Simon), whose harmonies open like those of “Ornithology”: I–i-7. Measures 99 to 101 are a quotation from this scheme.65 In isolation, the A on beat 99.1 (the chordal ninth) is not sufficient to suggest “Poinciana.” But the segment in measures 100 to 101 is unmistakable, and retroactively reveals the A to be part of the quotation as well. (A ninth on beat 1.1 is a distinguishing feature of “Poinciana.”) “Poinciana” opens with a pair of 2-phrases; the quotation from it should naturally be heard the same way, so the A on beat 99.1 is the first 2-phrase of a pair in measures 99 to 101. The segment that ends in measure 99 must be a combined phrase. Figure 4–22. Parker, “Ornithology,” chorus 3/4 border (mm. 98–102). {23} …4

-2

The 2+4 combined phrase in measures 53 to 57 (fig. 4–23A) exemplifies another type common for Parker, which I referred to in discussion of “Moose the Mooche.” In measure 51 to 54, Parker avoids overlapping beat III.1. In isolation, the segment in measures 53 and 54 might be taken for a long anacrusis to the following 4-phrase. But since the segment in

65

The quotation is helpfully noted in Owens 1974: vol. 2, p. 416.


measures 51 to 52 only extends to beat II.2 of the hypermeasure, an answering 2-phrase is required. Only when the answering phrase goes on too long, past beat 55.1, does it become part of a combined phrase. The same type of combination appears in measures 103 to 109 (fig. 4–23B). Figure 4–23. Parker, “Ornithology”: 2+4 combined phrases. {23} 4–23A. mm. 53–58. …41

1421 –

4–23B. mm. 103–109. …41 –

-1421

A final type of combined phrase appears in measures 47 to 52 (fig. 4–24). The answer to the opening 2-phrase begins before beat III.1 (49.1) but continues well past the downbeat of the next hypermeasure, with no clear pivot point. Like some examples from “Pennies From Heaven,” this combined phrase seems to have two separate parts that blur into one another, somewhere in measure 50. The same occurs in measures 67 to 72 (fig. 4–18 above): the combined phrase contains two distinct ideas; the transition occurs somewhere before measure 71.


Figure 4–24. Parker, “Ornithology”: 2+2 combined phrase (mm. 47–54). {23} 1 241

On the other hand, the combined phrase in measures 113 to 117 (fig. 4–25) does not seem to derive from two separate ideas. As in figure 4–24, it begins before III.1 and then continues past the next hypermetrical downbeat, beat 115.1. But no clear motivic or rhythmic shift marks the passage of the downbeat, and the resolution of D7 to G is delayed until beat 15.3. The lack of emphasis is highly dissonant: beat 115.1 marks not only a hypermetrical downbeat, but the chorus midpoint. Figure 4–25. Parker, “Ornithology”: 2+4 combined phrase (mm. 111–118). {23} 41-

242

These examples show the incredible variety of combined phrases in Parker’s solo. The result is extraordinary dissonance between meter and grouping in choruses 2 and 4: for much of these choruses, the 4-phrase level is suppressed by a series of 2+2, 2+4, and 4+2 combined phrases. In aggregate, the combined phrases of chorus 4 result in a curious pattern: three “displaced 8-phrases,” spanning measures 102 to 109, 110 to 117, and 118 to 125. These units are clearly separated from one another. But the divisions between them occur at the midpoints of each section, not at the divisions between sections. Thus, the divisions occur four measures away from where 8-phrase divisions “should” occur, at sectional boundaries. The phrase rhythm of chorus 4 involves the displacement of eight-bar groups, in a manner akin to metrical displacement at lower levels.


Parker treats phrase rhythm more liberally in “Ornithology” than in any of his solos analyzed in chapter 3. (Further research might reveal that he generally treats ABAC forms more loosely than AABA forms.) The lack of chorus-level punctuation in his phrase rhythm mirrors the less-punctuated scheme. Bill Evans, “My Romance” (1961)66

Pianist Bill Evans (1929–1980) matches Charlie Parker in his degree of influence on later musicians. He learned jazz piano during bebop’s heyday, and he attained prominence after bebop had given way to a wider range of styles in the late ‘50s. Bassist Chuck Israels, who collaborated extensively with Evans, commented on his phrase rhythm: “[Evans’s] phrases would start and end in ever-changing places, often crossing the boundaries of one section of a piece and another” (1985: 112). Compared to Parker or Powell, who epitomize the bebop style, Evans tends to stick with one phrase type for a longer period of time, then make a calculated shift between types. While Parker’s phrase rhythm is endlessly varied, in Evans’s playing, each phrase relates closely to those around it. Both players are comfortable crossing sectional boundaries; Evans treats boundaries between choruses more freely than Parker. Above, I observed that Parker’s phrase rhythm challenged the scheme most severely in its final chorus. Evans’s three-chorus solo on “My Romance” follows a different strategy: the first chorus has the most dissonant phrase rhythm, characterized by short, end-accented segments; the phrase rhythm of the third chorus is the reverse: it contains long, beginning-accented phrases. Each chorus has a distinct character, partly evoked by phrase rhythm; there is a remarkable moment of clarity at the beginning of the third chorus, where Evans shifts his (and the listener’s) focus from smaller to larger metrical levels. Evans’s treatment of sectional boundaries generally bears out Israels’ observation. But he always marks the beginning of section B with a new phrase. In the theme of “My Romance,” a single motive dominates sections A1, A2, and C, with a different motive active in section B. Perhaps the theme’s melodic design influences Evans’s consistent articulation of the section B downbeat.

66



On chorus-level boundaries, Israels remarks, “Evans’ view of the turnaround [the final measures of a chorus] was that it belonged to the following chorus, rather than to the one just ending. In practice this meant that a new idea introduced at the turnaround could be carried over into the next chorus” (1985: 112–13). Figure 4–26 shows the transitions between choruses. In the first such transition (fig. 4–26A), Evans not only introduces a new motive during the turnaround, he also blurs the chorus-level boundary with a 2+2 combined phrase. This tactic appears quite early in the solo: compare this with “Ornithology” and “Pennies From Heaven,” in which Parker and Getz only overlapped the boundary of the final chorus.67 In the last hypermeasure of the chorus (mm. 29–33), the first 2-phrase closes on tonic (beat 30.4.5), but the rapid appearance of the following segment (m. 31) prevents any sense of stability or closure. This segment begins as an answering 2-phrase. Its characteristic motive, begun on beat 31.3, continues just past the downbeat of the next chorus before being aborted. The motivic continuity blurs the chorus boundary. Evans also introduces a thicker left hand accompaniment with the new motive on beat 31.3, and continues it into the next chorus. Just as Israels suggests, he treats measures 31 and 32 as part of the second chorus. Figure 4–26. Evans, “My Romance”: Inter-chorus transitions.68 {14} 4–26A. Chorus 1 to chorus 2 (mm. 29–36). …42

-141

21-

Evans’s trios often create a climax in the final chorus of a solo by two means: left-hand chord attacks that match the rhythm of the right hand’s melody, thickening the texture; and the bassist’s switch from a freer accompaniment to a walking bass with an attack on every quarter note. In this performance, Evans’s left hand begins matching his right hand rhythm starting in chorus 2, not chorus 3, although the bass continues a freer accompaniment until chorus 3. The elision of a chorus-level boundary typically occurs going into the final chorus of a solo, paired with the thickened left-hand texture. Here, this “climactic” event arrives a chorus earlier than normal, between choruses 1 and 2, and the chorus 2/3 boundary is marked with a phrase division, a reversal of Evans’s normal procedure. 68 Copyright information accompanies the complete transcription, in Appendix B. 67


4–26B. Chorus 2 to chorus 3 (mm. 61–68). …421

-421

4–26C. End of solo (mm. 89–97).

Evans marks the boundary between choruses 2 and 3 (fig. 4–26B) with a phrase-ending in measure 63 on scale degree 1, although the supporting harmony A7 (V7/ii) undercuts the sense of melodic stability. But the anacrusis to chorus 3 only occupies a single measure (m. 64), and does not include a combined phrase. The solo itself does not end on a stable note (4– 26C). Instead, Evans’s melody overlaps the downbeat of the next chorus, ending on scale degree 5, and creating a smooth transition into bassist Scott LaFaro’s solo. In the solos above, neither Getz nor Parker consistently respected the division between the two halves of the ABAC form, the most important chorus-level division. In four choruses, Getz indicated this division once; Parker, twice. Evans consistently follows the scheme’s two-part structure—not with phrase division, but with a reprise of each chorus’s opening at its midpoint. This recapitulation is the essence of ABAC form. Choruses 2 and 3 provide the clearest examples. Section 2A1 (fig. 4–27A) begins with an elaboration of a descending tonic triad preceded by its upper neighbor. Evans repeats the G-E-C figure on the downbeat of section 2A2 (fig. 4–27B, beat 49.1), preceded by an upper neighbor in measure 48. The next phrases are also similar: C-E on beat 34.4 has a counterpart on beat 50.4, C-Eb; G-C on beat 35.3–4 has a counterpart on beat 52.1. Chorus 3 features similar parallelism (fig. 4–28). The most


memorable features of section 3A1 (fig. 4–28A) are a high register, dotted-quarter rhythm, and emphasis on the pitches of a Cmaj7 chord. Though the specific melody is different, the opening of section 3A2 (fig. 4–28B) is very similar. Figure 4–27. Evans, “My Romance”: Comparison of chorus 2 beg. and midpoint. {14} 4–27A. Opening, section 2A1 (mm. 33–36). …41

21-

4–27B. Opening, section 2A2 (mm. 48–52). -44

Figure 4–28. Evans, “My Romance”: Comparison of chorus 3 beg. and midpoint. {14} 4–28A. Opening, section 3A1 (mm. 65–68).

4–28B. Opening, section 3A2 (mm. 81–84).

Chorus 1 features the same reprise at its midpoint, but more subtly. Figure 4–29A shows the opening of the chorus. The first note of measure 1 concludes a brief transitional passage between the opening theme and the first solo chorus. At the midpoint of the chorus (fig. 4– 29B), an end-accented phrase ending on beat 17.1 corresponds to the transitional passage. The phrase rhythm in sections 1A1 (mm. 1–8) and 1A2 (mm. 17–24) is nearly identical: an endaccented 4-phrase, beginning and ending on the pitch C5, followed by an un-accented 4-phrase that brings the 8-phrase to a consonant close. The phrase rhythm around the midpoint of chorus 1 is quite ambiguous: note the approximately rhyming endings of the three 2-phrases in measures 16 to 21. Rhyming segments


should, when possible, be grouped within the same larger phrase; but this would require three 2-phrases to form a single 4-phrase. This reading is not inconceivable, but I find it impossible to hear the passage this way. I have chosen to group the second and third 2-phrases together as an end-accented 4-phrase (mm. 17–21). One might instead group the first and second 2-phrases together as a beginning-accented 4-phrase (mm. 16–19), but this “4-phrase” would be very much offset from the hypermeter. Further complicating the phrase rhythm is the beginningrhyme between beats 19.2.5 and 21.2.5, which suggests that the phrases that begin on these beats belong to the same 4-phrase. In short, the phrase rhythm in measures 16 to 23 is uncommonly obscure, stemming from a series of three rhyming 2-phrases.69 It is impossible to group the 2-phrases into 4-phrases in such a way that no rhymes cross 4-phrase divisions, in other words, in a way that rhyming segments are always grouped into the same higher-level phrase. Figure 4–29. Evans, “My Romance”: Comparison of chorus 1 beg. and midpoint. {14} Figure 4–29A. Section 1A1 (mm. 1–8). 124

-21

In his solo on “Witchcraft,” analyzed in chapter 6, Evans again employs an odd number of successive rhyming phrases, exploiting the same conflict between rhyme and meter. Indeed, whenever rhymes at a metrical time interval—one measure, two measures, four measures, etc.— occur an odd number of times, they inevitably conflict with the meter, in which the beats at any level have a duple relationship with the levels above and below. 69


4–29B. Section 1B, 1A2 (mm. 9–24). -1

-1

-41-

-14

12

14

12-

I mentioned that sections 1A1 and 1A2, the first and third sections of chorus 1, project motion from phrase-rhythm dissonance to consonance, because they contain an end-accented 4-phrase followed by an un-accented 4-phrase. Sections 1B and 1C, the second and fourth sections, project the opposite motion, consonance to dissonance, as a result of double-accented 4-phrases. Section B opens with an un-accented 4-phrase (figure 4–29B, mm. 9–12). A long 2phrase occupies measures 12 to 14. Alone, the short segment in measure 15 is insufficient to complete the 4-phrase, due to its brevity, rhythm, contour, and highly dissonant octatonic scale. It is the first 1-phrase of the answering 2-phrase. The final segment of the section (mm. 16–17) reinterprets the scheme’s half-cadence as an anacrusis to beat 17.1, and makes the 4-phrase double-accented. Section 1C (figure 4–30A) also suggests motion from consonance to dissonance: it opens with a double-accented phrase. The shift to dissonance signals that the solo is only just beginning, and there is more to come. The pivot note that terminates this phrase (beat 29.1) propels the solo into chorus 2, energized by its register and metrical location.


Figure 4–30. Evans, “My Romance,” section 1C. {14} 4–30A. mm. 21–32.

-1

12-

1242

-141

4–30B. Grouping structure, including beginning of next chorus (not shown in 4–30A). m. 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] 4:

[

4

2:

O O

2

][

2+2

]

Evans uses three phrase overlaps, including the one shown in figure 4–30 (m. 29). These all occur mid-section, uniting the hypermeasures of an eight-bar section. Figure 4–31 shows the other two, both of which occur in the last chorus. In measure 77, a marked change in figuration follows the pivot. The subtler pivot at 85.1 is indicated by duration and the cessation of triplet rhythm. The pivot notes mildly accent the midpoints of eight-bar hypermeasures, while maintaining melodic flow. Compared to chorus 1, the phrase rhythm of chorus 2 is clear, but still far from predictable. The chorus opens with a combined phrase (fig. 4–26A above), and contains the solo’s only other combined phrase (fig. 4–32 below). Like the phrase in measures 31 to 34 (fig. 4–26A), this is a 2+2 combined phrase; the two also have similar prosody.


Figure 4–31. Evans, “My Romance”: More phrase overlap (mm. 73–88). {14} 2421

-4-

-441

24

Figure 4–32. Evans, “My Romance”: A 2+2 combined phrase (mm. 53–60). {14} 1-

241-

-1

Section 2A1 (fig. 4–33) exemplifies the subtle variety of Evans’s phrase rhythm. The endings in measures 35 and 39 rhyme. Evans follows each ending with an eighth-rest and a short segment. In measure 36, I analyze this segment as a suffix to the 4-phrase. The corresponding segment in measure 40, however, is part of the first 2-phrase of the next hypermeasure. A small extension has transformed a segment that was a mere suffix in measure 36 into something very different in measures 40 to 41. This reflects my different hearing of


these segments: the segment in measure 40 sounds like an afterthought to the previous 4phrase; the segment in measures 40 to 41 seems to initiate something new. Figure 4–33. Evans, “My Romance,” section 2A1 (mm. 33–41). {14} …41

21

-121

-

-4-

The next 8-phrase extends from measures 40 to 47, occupying section 2B (fig. 4–34). Though its constituent 4-phrases are both divided, and have similar prosody overall, they differ at the 2-phrase level. Their constituent 2-phrases have inverse prosody: in measures 40 to 44, the 2-phrases are end- then beginning-accented, while in measures 44 to 47, the 2-phrases are beginning- then end-accented. The ending in measure 47 leaves room for a long anacrusis to the next section. Notice how closely the phrase in measures 48 to 49 corresponds with the phrase in measures 16 to 17, at the equivalent place in chorus 1 (see fig. 4–29B above). Yet in chorus 1, I analyze this phrase as the end of an end-accented 4-phrase, while in chorus 2 (fig. 4– 34), it is the beginning of a beginning-accented 4-phrase. Why have I interpreted these phrases differently? The difference is in the preceding segment. In chorus 1, the segment in measure 15 does not sound conclusive, metrically, melodically, or harmonically, so the next segment has a duty to complete the 4-phrase. But in chorus 2, the segment ending in measure 47— corresponding to that in measure 15—ends in a more satisfactory way, with a downward contour and clear articulation of the scheme’s half-cadence. Therefore, the next segment, beginning in measure 48, can be heard more easily as a new beginning.


Figure 4–34. Evans, “My Romance,” section 2B (mm. 40–49). {14} -4-

-21

41

-1

-4

Chorus 3 opens with a shift of attention to higher metrical levels, creating a sense of highlevel metrical clarity after the divided phrases of chorus 2 (fig. 4–35). A slow-moving, syncopated 4-phrase (mm. 65–68) contradicts low metrical levels but has the ideal prosody [421]. Another beginning-accented 4-phrase concludes section 3A1, reinforcing the four- and eight-measure levels. Though the surface rhythm accelerates in section 3B at measure 77 (fig. 4– 31 above), the pace of deeper activity remains slow: B4 persists for three straight measures (77– 79) within another beginning-accented 8-phrase. Figure 4–35. Evans, “My Romance”: Section 3A1 (mm. 64–82). {14} -421

-42-

The phrase rhythm of the second half is more dissonant, including a phrase overlap (again, see fig. 4–31 above). But the long phrases continue, and maintain a feeling of spaciousness. This contrasts with the focus on lower metrical levels characteristic of choruses 1 and 2.


Conclusion

This chapter presented three distinct phrase-rhythm strategies for multi-chorus solos on ABAC schemes. Only Evans’s solo consistently referred to the two-part structure inherent to the ABAC scheme; the other solos treated the chorus midpoint no differently from other sectional boundaries. Getz’s and Parker’s solos involve careful use of phrase combination, often to simulate end-accentuation. Getz also employs intricate rhyming structures to maintain interest, reflecting his “cooler” approach. Parker shifts the amount and type of dissonance dramatically from chorus to chorus. Evans moves from short, dissonant phrases in the first two choruses to broad phrases and slower rhythm in the final chorus, projecting a clear long-range plan. This and the previous chapter illustrate the differences between thirty-two-bar schemes cast in AABA and ABAC form. Though schemes of these types are metrically identical, melodic and harmonic recurrence establish AABA as a three-part form and ABAC as a two-part form. Furthermore, soloists do not treat these forms identically. Based on the small sample surveyed here, it appears that soloists articulate the form of AABA schemes more clearly than ABAC forms, especially the sectional division just before the bridge. But perhaps most remarkable is the incredible variety of phrase-rhythm strategies possible within these schemes, which helps explain their longevity as vehicles for improvisation.

143

Chapter 5: The Twelve-Bar Blues Blues Form

While there are sixteen- and eight-bar blues schemes, the most common blues schemes are twelve measures long, comprising three hypermeasures. A harmonic outline of a blues in C is given in figure 5–1. The first hypermeasure prolongs tonic, the second hypermeasure moves to the subdominant and then back to tonic, and the third hypermeasure presents a cadence in tonic. The most significant distinction between versions of the blues is the harmonization of measures 9 and 10: ii–V vs. V–IV; both alternatives are shown. The ii–V progression predominates in bop-influenced jazz, while the V–IV progression is more typical of rock and the genre known as “blues.” There are countless other ways of elaborating the harmonies of figure 5–1, but all require a motion to the subdominant in measure 5 and a cadence terminating in measure 11.70 Figure 5–1. Metrical-harmonic scheme of twelve-bar blues in C. mm. 1–4

|C7

|(F7)

|C7

|C7

|

mm. 5–8

|F7

|F7

|C7

|C7

|

mm. 9–12

|D-7 (or G7) |G7 (or F7

|C7

|(G7)

|

Two features distinguish the metrical hierarchy of the blues from other schemes: its shallowness and its triple construction. Most schemes are longer than twelve measures, and divide into discrete sections above the four-bar level. These sections create a metrical level between the four-bar hypermeasure and the chorus. Not so in the blues, in which the choruslevel is directly above the four-bar level. The hierarchy is therefore shallower. Furthermore, the entire chorus comprises three hypermeasures. This contradicts the duple construction typical of thirty-two-bar schemes, in which the time-spans of each metrical level are in a 2:1 ratio with higher and lower levels. Experienced musicians grow extremely comfortable with the blues scheme at a variety of tempos, such that these irregularities are hardly noticed. Instead, the brevity of the scheme For example, each chord can be preceded by its own ii–V: the F7 in bar can be approached by G-7–C7 in the previous bar, and the D-7 in bar 9 can similarly be approached by E-7–A7. 70

Chapter 5: The Twelve-Bar Blues 144

increases the risk that a multi-chorus solo will become tedious. Thirty-two-bar schemes contain inherent long-range harmonic drama: interruptions, modulating bridges, and so forth. These built-in features help sustain even a mediocre solo. To fill the same amount of (metrical) time requires almost three choruses of blues, but three choruses of the blues contains much less inherent harmonic interest than a single chorus of a well-composed ABAC scheme. The shallower metrical hierarchy would also seem to limit the possibilities for phrase rhythm. In chapters 3 and 4, I described the ways soloists interact with each level of the metrical hierarchy, from the measure to the eight-bar section, sixteen-bar half-chorus, and chorus. In the blues, phrase rhythm has fewer metrical levels to work with (or against). The enduring popularity of the blues scheme suggests that skilled musicians have developed ways of working around these limitations. In this chapter, I examine the phrase rhythm of three solos to show how this may be done. Each solo illustrates a different phrase rhythm strategy. Although the metrical hierarchy of the blues is shallower than that of other schemes, musicians use IOI, rhyme, and motive to generate a level of structure between the four-measure level and the chorus, a level not intrinsic to the scheme. Most common, and perhaps most readily perceptible, is the structure 8/4: an 8-phrase consisting of a closely related pair of 4-phrases, and a contrasting final 4-phrase over the final cadence. The typical AAB structure of blues lyrics, in which a four-bar phrase is repeated, and then followed by a rhyming four-bar phrase (often with a lyrical twist or surprise), follows this 8/4 grouping: A1 (mm. 1–4): There’s a red house over yonder, that’s where my baby stays; A2 (5–8): There’s a red house over yonder, that’s where my baby stays; B (9–12): I ain’t been home to see my baby in ninety-nine and one-half days. (Jimi Hendrix, “Red House”) The harmonic structure of the blues also helps sustain the 8/4 structure. The first eight measures prolong tonic through motion to and from the subdominant; the last four measures contain the cadence and stand apart from the rest. Less common, but also possible, is 4/8 chorus-level phrase rhythm. Unlike 8-phrases in a thirty-two-bar scheme, the 8-phrases in the 8/4 and 4/8 structures are not literally coextensive with eight-measure hypermeasures. Therefore, the emergence of an 8-phrase requires more than simply a pair of 4-phrases. Instead, the eight measures must seem to stand together, apart from the other four measures of the chorus, so that the 8/4 or 4/8 structure may be clearly perceived


even in the absence of eight-bar hypermeter. The musicians superimpose a higher level of grouping on the four-bar level. Musicians can use the same techniques to divide the chorus into two equal parts, 6/6. This phrase rhythm divides the chorus’s middle hypermeasure, and creates a chorus-level hemiola.71 Charlie Parker, “Chi Chi” (1953)72

According to Henry Martin, the twelve-bar blues is the basis for a quarter of Charlie Parker’s recorded output (Martin 1996: 3). It is therefore not surprising that Parker developed many ways of navigating this form. In his six-chorus solo on “Chi Chi,” the chorus-level phrase rhythm develops gradually from one structure to another. The first four choruses divide into an 8-phrase plus a 4-phrase, while the last chorus implies a chorus-level 6/6 phrase rhythm. In the first chorus, shown in figure 5–2, the first 8-phrase is a single melodic segment spanning measures 15 to 21. The 4-phrase that occupies the chorus’s third hypermeasure is similarly undivided (mm. 22–25). The content of the 8-phrase suggests that two separate parts form the complete phrase: note the slower rhythm after bar 19. However, there is no pivot note. Both of the chorus’s phrases end over tonic harmony, in measures 21 and 25. The 4phrase (mm. 22–25) ends on scale degree 5, anticipating the dominant harmony of the following measure and maintaining tonal instability leading into the next chorus. Chorus 2 (fig. 5–3) maintains the chorus-level 8/4 phrase rhythm but subdivides each large group. Parker divides the 8-phrase into four 2-phrases, with short rests in between. The first three 2-phrases have rhyming endings on beat 4.5 of a strong measure (mm. 27, 29, and 31), and very similar prosody. The last 2-phrase does not rhyme, ending on beat 3.5. This early ending has two consequences: it differentiates the last sub-phrase of the 8-phrase, and it prevents the phrase from overlapping the harmony V7/ii in measure 34. Remember that endings on beat 4.5 tend to anticipate the harmony of the following measure. If Parker had ended the fourth 2-phrase on beat 33.4.5 in order to rhyme with the previous phrases, it would

71

By analogy, in a jazz waltz (3/4), it is typical for the rhythm section to imply a duple division

of the measure: | . . |. 72



have suggested that the 8-phrase ended on V7/ii, preventing it from sounding tonally closed. Parker divides the chorus’s final 4-phrase asymmetrically (mm. 35–37). The asymmetrical division contrasts with the regularity of the 8-phrase’s division. Figure 5–2. Parker, “Chi Chi”: Chorus 1 (mm. 15–26). {24} -1242

-42-

Figure 5–3. Parker, “Chi Chi”: Chorus 2 (mm. 26–38). {24} 41

-21

-2-

-41

-

12-

In chorus 3 (fig. 5–4), irregular division of the 8-phrase begins to obscure the chorus-level 8/4 structure. The first 4-phrase opens with a pair of rhyming 1-phrases, but the phrase that follows departs from this regularity: it extends across beat 43.1 and becomes a 2+2 combined phrase, containing part of the next 4-phrase. Phrase combination thus unites the 8-phrase across its first and second hypermeasures, as in chorus 1 (fig. 5–2). Once again, Parker concludes the 8-phrase before the eighth measure of the chorus, avoiding the melodic implication of V7/ii. In this chorus, unlike chorus 1 and 2, he does not reinforce the 8/4 grouping with an especially long IOI between the 8-phrase and the 4-phrase: the rest after beat


45.4, which separates the 8-phrase from the 4-phrase, is actually shorter than the rest after beat 43.3. Figure 5–4. Parker, “Chi Chi”: Chorus 3 (mm. 38–50). {24} 41-

24-

-2-

-42-

Though I interpret the segment in measures 41 to 43 as a 2+2 combined phrase, one might also take it to be simply a 2-phrase that ends late, creating a double-accented 4-phrase in measures 38 to 43 (imagine a dotted square ending bracket in measure 43). I reject this reading because I tend to hear the ending in measure 43 as the start of a new melodic gesture. Also, the approximate rhyme between the phrase endings in measures 43 and 45 suggests that these endings be grouped into the same larger phrase, which is only possible if the segment in measures 41 to 43 is divided among the two hypermeasures. Chorus 4 (fig. 5–5) intensifies the irregularities of chorus 3. The 8/4 chorus-level phrase rhythm is far weaker than before. The 8-phrase divides into two 4-phrases with a very weak division between them (m. 55). For the first time, the 8-phrase crosses into the chorus’s eighth measure, overlapping V7/ii in measure 58. Therefore, the final harmony of the 8-phrase points forward to the downbeat of measure 59, and opens the ending: the 8-phrase no longer begins and ends over tonic harmony. As in chorus 3, the IOI between the 8- and the 4-phrase is not especially long (58–59). Notice also the rhyming beginnings in measures 57 and 59. This rhyme establishes a connection across the division between the 8-phrase and the 4-phrase, further weakening the 8/4 structure.


Figure 5–5. Parker, “Chi Chi”: Chorus 4 (mm. 50–62). {24} 44

-1

-1

-124

The last 4-phrase of chorus 4 begins late (m. 59). It also ends late, and combines across the boundary of chorus 5: it ends in measure 62/3 as the first 1-phrase of the next chorus, immediately answered by the next segment (63–64). (See fig. 5–6.) The opening phrase rhythm of chorus 5 is very similar to that of chorus 4. In choruses 4 and 5, the first 4-phrase is doubleaccented, and followed immediately by a short 2-phrase in the next hypermeasure. In chorus 4, this 2-phrase is answered in measures 57 and 58, ensuring that measures 55 to 58 form a single 4-phrase. However, in chorus 5, the corresponding answering 2-phrase, begun in measure 68, extends across the next hypermetrical boundary and forms part of a combined phrase that also overlaps much of the final hypermeasure (69–73). This combined phrase prevents the emergence of 8/4 phrase rhythm, since it overlaps the place where the primary division would have to fall. Figure 5–6. Parker, “Chi Chi”: Chorus 5 (mm. 63–74). {24} 41-

24

1-

242-

Above, I mentioned the possibility of “6/6” chorus-level phrase rhythm. Figure 5–7 places the 6/6 structure against the metrical-harmonic scheme of the blues. The emergence of this structure requires a prominent phrase division somewhere between beat 5.1 and beat 7.1 of the


chorus—somewhere in the first two measures of the second hypermeasure. This yields two 6phrases, which divide between them the two-bar downbeats of the second hypermeasure: the first 6-phrase overlaps beat I.1, the second 6-phrase overlaps beat III.1. The 6-phrases themselves may be divided or undivided, as long as the division between 6-phrases is clear, and the internal divisions of the 6-phrases are weak. When present, 6-phrases are shown with double-square brackets, the same bracket-type as used for 8-phrases. (Context makes it apparent which type I am indicating.) At a lower level, 6-phrases can arise from the union of three 2phrases, or the combination of a 4-phrase and a 2-phrase. Figure 5–7. 6/6 chorus-level phrase rhythm. 1st 6-phrase

Clear division somewhere here

2nd 6-phrase

Chorus 5 (fig. 5–6 above) has the effect of wiping away the 8/4 structure present in the first four choruses. This leaves chorus 6 (fig. 5–8A) to articulate the 6/6 structure. The longest rest in the chorus separates the 6-phrases from one another. Figure 5–8B shows the complete grouping structure. Notice the different composition of the 6-phrases: the first is the union of three closely-knit 2-phrases, while the second combines a double-accented 2-phrase and a 4phrase. IOI reinforces the division between the 6-phrases: the rest in measure 80 is the longest of the chorus. As is typical, Parker extends the solo’s final phrase into the next chorus. (In contrast, choruses 1, 2, 3, and 5 all ended with a long rest.) This provides a clear signal that the solo is over and prevents any loss of energy between soloists.


Figure 5–8. Parker, “Chi Chi”: Chorus 6. {24} 5–8A. mm. 74–97. 4-

-2-

24

141

124-

5–8B. Grouping structure. m.

75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4]

6:

[

6

][

6

4: 2:

[ [

2

][

2

][

2

][

2

] 4

]

]

So far, I have only considered Parker’s improvised solo; the theme of “Chi Chi” (fig. 5–9) also rewards phrase-rhythm analysis. It contains many points of ambiguity, and the seeds of the 6/6 structure that emerges in the final chorus. The theme’s phrase rhythm is highly ambiguous. I divide it into three 4-phrases, in the order beginning-, double-, and end-accented, describing a motion from consonance to dissonance. The structure of the last 4-phrase (mm. 10–15) is clearest: a pair of end-accented 2-phrases, divided by IOI in measure 12 (I consider the second ending only). By concluding the theme with an end-accented phrase, Parker imbues the beginning of the improvised solo with greater energy. I analyze the theme’s first 4-phrase as 1+1+2, but I concede the weakness of the division in measure 3, after the C on beat 3.3. It divides a dissonance from its resolution. I draw support from Parker’s articulation on the recording, which separates the C from the Bb and slurs the Bb to the following G. But even if one disputes this low-level analysis, measures 1 to 4 still constitute a complete 4-phrase.


Figure 5–9. Parker, “Chi Chi”: Theme (mm. 1–14). {24} 41-

-4

21

-24

124

The second 4-phrase (mm. 5–10) divides into asymmetrical 2-phrases. This doubleaccented 4-phrase is extremely unusual: both of its 2-phrases end on beat I.1 of a hypermeasure (beats 6.1 and 10.1), four measures apart; but 2-phrases generally end only two measures apart. Notice also how Parker does not play anything on beat 8.1. If the Bb had arrived on this beat, instead of beat 8.1.5, it would strongly rhyme with beat 6.1. The syncopated delay of the Bb, echoed by the D on beat 9.1.5, sustains the rhythmic energy of the 2-phrase. A metrically consonant ending on beat 10.1 brings the 4-phrase to a close and resolves some of the rhythmic tension. Two features of the theme hint at the chorus-level phrase rhythm 6/6: the long rest in measures 6 and 7, which could divide a pair of 6-phrases, and the end-accentuation that weakens the boundary between the second and third hypermeasures, which could unify the second 6-phrase of a chorus (as in chorus 6, fig. 5–8A). (In the theme, the rhyme between measures 5 and 7 goes against the potential 6/6 grouping structure, since this rhyme would overlap the 6-phrase division.) Overall, Parker’s solo shows remarkable long-range coherence, possibly as a result of his extensive experience playing the blues. Cannonball Adderley, “Freddie Freeloader” (1959)73

Alto saxophonist Julian “Cannonball” Adderley (1928–1975) entered the jazz scene in 1955, a close contemporary of Bill Evans. He was immediately hailed as the successor of the recently 73



deceased Parker (Giddins & Deveaux 2009: 398). He joined Miles Davis’s band in 1958. After playing on Davis’s seminal album Kind of Blue, which includes “Freddie Freeloader,” he formed his own band and became known for a funky, soulful style in the 1960s (ibid.). “Freddie Freeloader” (Davis) deviates from standard blues in the harmonies of its final hypermeasure: |

V

| IV

| bVII

| bVII

|. First, there is a soulful V—IV cadence

in place of jazz’s usual ii—V cadence. Second, and more significantly, the cadence resolves deceptively, and the scheme ends without tonic closure. This alters the function of the chorus’s final measures and their relationship to the next chorus: the ending of each chorus becomes a point of harmonic tension, and depends on the beginning of the next chorus for its resolution, creating a circular form.74 Adderley’s strategy in this five-chorus solo is quite different from Parker’s. He consistently supports the division of each chorus into three hypermeasures, in alignment with the scheme. The first two 4-phrases of every chorus end squarely within their hypermeasures, reinforcing the chorus’s two strongest internal metrical divisions. But within this limited framework, the lower-level phrase rhythm is remarkably diverse. Though Adderley consistently supports the scheme’s internal metrical divisions, he obscures the boundaries between choruses 1 and 2, and choruses 2 and 3. Figure 5–10 shows two interpretations of the last hypermeasure of chorus 1 and first hypermeasure of chorus 2 (double-bars indicate hypermetrical boundaries). In the first chorus, the last hypermeasure (mm. 9–12) contains three segments. Figure 5–10A presents the first two as a pair of long 1phrases that form a double-accented 2-phrase. The third segment of the passage (mm. 11–13) overlaps with the next phrase at the boundary between the choruses. As a melodic low-point, the Bb on beat 13.1 makes a convincing pivot note. On this view, the first chorus ends with an end-accented 4-phrase whose last note also launches the first 4-phrase of chorus 2. In the alternative analysis (fig. 5–10B), the segments in measures 8 to 11 constitute an entire 4-phrase, and there is a five-beat anacrusis to the first 4-phrase of the next chorus.

74

Larson et al (2009) discuss “circular” harmonic forms in two other tunes by Davis.


Figure 5–10. Adderley, “Freddie Freeloader”: Border of choruses 1 and 2 (mm. 8–16). 75 {1} 5–10A. Preferred analysis. 41

-2

141

21-

5–10B. Alternative analysis.

These alternatives represent very different hearings of this passage, centering on two events: the phrase-ending in measure 11 and the Bb on beat 13.1. Under figure A, the ending in measure 11, as a 2-phrase ending, is rather open, and more melodic content is required for 75



the hypermeasure to be occupied. (Imagine that there were no other segment after this ending: would the hypermeasure sound incomplete?) Under figure B, the ending here is more closed off, and the next segment initiates something new. The function of the Bb on beat 13.1 is even more decisive: figure A suggests that the Bb is a crucial grouping boundary, an ending and a beginning; figure B suggests that the only significance of the Bb is that it falls on a hypermetrical downbeat, and that it is of no significance to the grouping structure. If one hears the Bb as a grouping boundary then one will favor analysis A (as I do); if one takes the opposite view, one will favor analysis B.76 Figure 5–11 shows the border between choruses 2 and 3. The third hypermeasure of chorus 2 (mm. 21–24) contains a similar collection of segments to the corresponding location of chorus 1: two short segments followed by a long segment that continues into the next chorus. The “two short segments” in both cases end very near beat III.1 of the hypermeasure (beats 11.1 and 23.1). Indeed, in my analysis, the only significant difference is that the “long segment” leading to chorus 3 turns out to be a combined phrase, blending into the prefix of the next 4-phrase. Since this phrase barely extends into chorus 3 (m. 25), one might interpret it simply as end-accented, entirely belonging to chorus 2 (imagine a dotted square bracket in m. 25). I interpret it as a combined phrase because of the parallel endings in measures 25 and 27. As I have mentioned before, such parallelism suggests that these endings terminate parts of the same larger phrase. To a listener hearing the performance for the first time, the parallelism might cause a retroactive re-evaluation of the ending in measure 25. The D-Ab in measure 25 that was initially heard as simply the close of an end-accented 4-phrase, in light of the parallel ending in measure 27, is reinterpreted as the opening gesture of a new hypermeasure. This requires that the segment in measures 23 to 25 be a combined phrase, 2+prefix, part of a larger 2+4 combined phrase.

One other alternative seems plausible: if one hears the ending in measure 11 as open, but hears no grouping boundary on the Bb, then the segment in measures 11 to 14 will be a 2+2 combined phrase. 76


Figure 5–11. Adderley, “Freddie Freeloader”: Border of chor. 2 and 3 (mm. 20–28). {1} 41-

-14

12-

The phrase rhythm at the end of the solo (fig. 5–12) is nearly identical to that in choruses 1 and 2: a pair of 1-phrases followed by a 2-phrase that extends across the chorus boundary. The D5 on beat 60.1 is the third of tonic harmony, and it occurs where tonic closure would normally occur: the final measure of the scheme. But it is a dissonance over the local harmony, Ab7—the scheme itself forestalls any possibility of harmonic resolution in the solo’s final measures. The solo comes to a consonant close only in measure 61, the first measure of the next chorus. Indeed, in all three cases, Adderley’s blurring of the chorus endpoint appears inspired by the dissonant harmony of the scheme’s final measures. Just as the harmony remains open until the next chorus begins, Adderley’s phrasing pushes through the last measures of these choruses. Figure 5–12. Adderley, “Freddie Freeloader”: End of solo (mm. 56–62). {1} 41-

-14-

In terms of phrase rhythm, choruses 3 and 4 end more consonantly than 1 and 2, with 4phrase endings in their final measures (figs. 5–13A and B, mm. 36 and 48). Notice how the final 4-phrase of chorus 3 (mm. 32–36) integrates the discrete segments of measures 20 to 24 into an undivided 4-phrase (fig. 5–11 above). In both passages, Adderley repeats a figure sequentially over F7—Eb7, before a sixteenth-note ascent over Ab7. Sixteenth-notes also appear at the end of chorus 4 (fig. 5–13B, m. 47).


Figure 5–13. Adderley, “Freddie Freeloader”: End of choruses 3 and 4. {1} 5–13A. End of chorus 3 (mm. 32–36). 421

5–13B. End of chorus 4 (mm. 44–58). 4-

-21

In every chorus, Adderley divides the first 4-phrase into two parts. But other factors distinguish one chorus from the next: where and how these 4-phrases begin, and where they are divided. While the first 4-phrase is divided in every chorus, only in choruses 1 and 2 are the resultant sub-phrases roughly equal in length. I analyze the chorus-level phrase rhythm of choruses 4 and 5 as 8/4. Figure 5–14 shows the 8-phrases. In chorus 4 (fig. A), both 4-phrases are divided into a prefix and a main phrase. The melodic and prosodic similarities between these phrases create a highly unified 8-phrase. Chorus 5 presents a more interesting case: melodic parallelism between the 4-phrases, especially their opening segments, but different phrase rhythm. The first 4-phrase (mm. 48–52) opens with a prefix outlining the tritone Ab–D. The main portion of the phrase (mm. 50–52) concludes with an elaboration of the same tritone. The second 4-phrase is more symmetrically divided. But melodically, these phrases still end with a tritone. Thus, Adderley couples melodic repetition with phrase-rhythm development, as the second 4-phrase expands what was a prefix into a 2-phrase. In terms of hearing, the prefixes that end in measures 37, 41, and 49 act as calls to attention, setting up the listener for the main part of the 4-phrase; the 2-phrase in measures 52 to 53 is more independent and balanced with the remainder of the 4-phrase.


Figure 5–14. Adderley, “Freddie Freeloader”: 8-phrases in choruses 4 and 5. {1} 5–14A. Beginning of chorus 4 (mm. 36–44). 42-

421-

5–14B. Beginning of chorus 5 (mm. 48–56). 421-

41

21-

I have neglected many details of this solo, especially with regard to prosody. There is great variety in the prosody, both across the solo and between successive phrases. I will point out a single example, the first 8-phrase of chorus 4 (fig. 5–14A). The constituent 4-phrases of this 8phrase carefully balance unity and variety. As I mentioned above, each divides into a prefix and a longer second segment. The prosody of the prefixes is nearly identical, but in the second 4phrase, Adderley expands the second segment by three beats, adding to the beginning and end. This slight modification, along with the faster rhythm in measures 42 and 43, lessens the symmetry between these 4-phrases, while still maintaining a connection. The relatively slow tempo of “Freddie Freeloader” (= 138) lets Adderley explore many rhythmic divisions and subdivisions not seen in other solos. It also seems to shift his focus from the 4-phrase level to lower levels, at which his solo has endless variety. Finally, his frequent blurring of chorus-level boundaries reflects the scheme’s circular harmonic structure.


Sonny Rollins, “Tenor Madness” (1956)77

Tenor saxophonist Sonny Rollins (1930–), like Adderley and Evans, entered the jazz world in the ‘50s, after the flowering of bebop. In the mid-‘50s he became the premier “hard bop” tenor, the period and style in which this recording was made. During the long and fruitful career that has followed (and continues to this day), his style has evolved to incorporate jazz trends, including ‘60s avant-garde and ‘70s fusion.78 In his eight-chorus solo on “Tenor Madness,” Sonny Rollins uses all of the chorus-level phrase rhythms seen so far: 8/4, 4/8, 6/6, and 4/4/4 all make an appearance. Overall, the chorus-level phrase rhythm breaks down as follows, by chorus: 1. 8/4 2. 8/4 3. 6/6 4. 4/8 5. ? 6. 6/6 7. 4/8 8. 4/4/4 The 8/4 and 4/4/4 configurations are most consonant with the scheme, and appear at the beginning and end of the solo; more dissonant structures appear in the middle. The first and second choruses feature consonant 8/4 phrase rhythm, as in the opening of Parker’s solo. In chorus 1 (fig. 5–15), the 8-phrase emerges through the repetition of the motive D(b)–Bb in a series of four 2-phrases. The long IOI after this 8-phrase reinforces the chorus’s main point of division (mm. 7–8), as does the faster rhythm of the undivided 4-phrase that concludes the chorus (mm. 8–11). Rollins maintains the same 8/4 phrase rhythm in chorus 2 (fig. 5–16), but reverses which phrases are divided: here, the final 4-phrase, rather than the 8-phrase, is divided into motivically and metrically parallel 2-phrases. The 8-phrase (mm. 12–19) consists of three segments, two of which overlap. In both of the first two choruses, Rollins ends the 8-phrases in 77 78

The complete transcription appears on page 249. Extracted from Giddins & Deveaux 2009: 366–68 and Martin & Waters 2002: 231–32.


the seventh measure of the chorus (as in the first two choruses of “Chi Chi”), placing distance between it and the following 4-phrase and avoiding V7/ii. Figure 5–15. Rollins, “Tenor Madness”: Chorus 1 (mm. 1–12).79 {30} 2-

-1

4

21

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Figure 5–16. Rollins, “Tenor Madness”: Chorus 2 (mm. 12–24). {30} 142

41-

-4-

-2-

Choruses 4 and 7 contain the only examples of chorus-level 4/8 phrase rhythm in this chapter (figs. 5–17, 5–18). The challenge of creating this structure lies in unifying the 8-phrase. It does not sit easily in the blues harmonic structure (see fig. 5–1 above): it begins in the second hypermeasure, in the middle of the tonic-prolonging motion to subdominant, then overlaps both the return to tonic and the cadence at the chorus’s end. Chorus 4 demonstrates remarkable symmetry of phrase rhythm: the first and last 4-phrases have the same prosody, and

79



the double-accented middle 4-phrase is placed exactly in the middle of the chorus. At the next level of phrase rhythm, the second and third 4-phrase form an 8-phrase through middleground voice-leading. The melody of measures 40 to 47 trace a chromatic descent from G5 to D5. At the end of the second 4-phrase (beat 45.1), this descent has only reached Eb5, demanding resolution to D. During measures 41 to 45, the regular pace of this chromatic descent—one half-step per measure—makes the arrival on Eb5 seem inevitable, once the phrase continues past beat 43.1. Figure 5–17. Rollins, “Tenor Madness”: Chorus 4 (mm. 35–48). {30} 12-

44

12-

Chorus 7 (fig. 5–18) presents the inverse phrase rhythm to chorus 4: two double-accented 4-phrases surrounding an un-accented 4-phrase. In this chorus, motivic and voice-leading connections overcome IOI to form the chorus-level 4/8 grouping structure. The first 4-phrase contains three rhyming segments, labeled A, B, and C. Each segment functions like an anacrusis to a two-bar downbeat, overlapping the three two-bar downbeats of the 4-phrase as a whole. Despite this symmetry, I hear segment A as a prefix, not a 2-phrase like the others, because of its placement largely outside of the hypermeasure.80

Recall a similar passage in Evans’s “My Romance” (fig. 4–29B), in which Evans used three successive rhyming 2-phrases. Odd numbers of rhyming phrases always lead to somewhat paradoxical analyses, due to the assumption of symmetry built into the analytical system. 80


Figure 5–18. Rollins, “Tenor Madness”: Chorus 7 (mm. 71–85). {30} 12 14 14

A

B 1-

-1-

D

E

41-

F

C

14

G

Segments D and E constitute an un-accented 4-phrase, united by the motive of a descending seventh chord, first Eb-7 (segment D), then D-7 and D˚7 (segment E). Segment F continues this motive and the middleground chromatic descent, moving to C-7. As a whole, the chorus contains seven discrete segments, none greater than two measures in length; Rollins employs rhyme, motive, and voice-leading to create a 4-phrase and 8-phrase level. In chorus 8, no grouping structure emerges above the 4-phrase level (see p. 251). Long rests separate the 4-phrases from one another. The melodic and rhythmic independence of the three 4-phrases prevent any 8-phrase from emerging. The simplicity of phrase rhythm in this final chorus balance Rollins’s shift to sixteenth-notes. Choruses 3 and 6 (fig. 5–19) employ the phrase rhythm 6/6, introduced in “Chi Chi.” In chorus 3, there are six discrete segments, divided into two groups of three by a six-beat rest. That rest is the defining feature of the chorus. Though chorus 6 (fig. 5–19B) has a lengthy rest in the same place as chorus 3, it only has one 6-phrase, in its second half. Figure 5–19C shows its grouping structure. The chorus opens with a 2+4 combined phrase begun in the previous chorus, precluding any clear 6-phrase boundary at the start. (See figure 5–20, below, for the prior context of this combined phrase.) Both chorus 3 and 6 feature a phrase-ending in their eleventh measure (beats 35.1 and 71.1). In the former case, I analyze this as a 2-phrase ending,


but in the latter, as a 4-phrase ending. Several factors lead me to hear the ending in measure 71 as more final than that in measure 35. It ends on scale degree 3, reinforcing tonic more clearly than scale degree 5; it ends in a relatively low register; and most importantly, the segment that comes after the phrase ending in measure 71 seems to lead in a new direction, due to the sudden ascent and change in rhythm, whereas the segment that comes after the ending in measure 35 continues the same downward trajectory as the previous segment, and begins with the F5 on which that segment ended. Figure 5–19. Rollins, “Tenor Madness”: 6/6 chorus-level phrase rhythm. {30} 5–19A. Chorus 3 (mm. 24–36). 4-

-2

14

21-

42

5–19B. Chorus 6 (mm. 59–72). 142-

-4-

242

5–19C. Grouping structure of chorus 6 (includes last two measures of chorus 5).


m.

59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 74 [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4]

6:

[

6

]

4: 2:

[

2+4

][

2

]

The design of chorus 5 is unique (fig. 5–20). Melodically, the chorus comprises a pair of motives, labeled “a” and “b” (mm. 48–53), repeated once in their entirety at the subdominant level (mm. 54–58), and then once more, partially, back in tonic (mm. 59–60). This incomplete final appearance leads into the next chorus without pause, as a combined phrase (see fig. 5– 19B for its conclusion). There are two remarkable things about the melody in this chorus: its rhythmic regularity, and its total dissonance with the meter. The internal measurements of the motive-pair ab are consistent: in both appearances of the complete pair, motive b begins exactly 1.3 measures (one measure and three beats) after motive a. The time-span between motive-pairs is also consistent: there are 5.2 measures (five measures and two beats) between a1 and a2, and between a2 and a3. A3 begins exactly eleven measures after a1. Figure 5–20. Rollins, “Tenor Madness”: Chorus 5. {30} 5–20A. mm. 48–60.

b1

a1

a2

b2

a3


5–20B. Grouping structure. m. 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] 4:

[

2:

[

4 2

][

] 2

][

2

][

2+2

][

2+4

This regularity is all the more astonishing in light of its extraordinary dissonance with the scheme. The 5.2-measure figure is very much out of alignment with the meter. I mentioned that the second appearance of the figure is transposed from the tonic to the subdominant level. This echoes the schematic harmonic motion in measure 5 from tonic to subdominant. But the subdominant version of the figure arrives too late, in measure 54, only just before the return to tonic in measure 55. Rollins sustains Db, the seventh of Eb7, until it becomes the flatted third of Bb. It is a cliché of the blues to play a melodic figure in the opening measures, and then transpose it to the subdominant in measure 5 of the scheme to mirror the harmonic scheme (mirroring the standard lyrical design AAB). Rollins distorts this cliché by having the second appearance of the figure arrive late, resulting in harmonic and metrical misalignment between melody and scheme. The phrase rhythm of chorus 5 is thereby built on a conflict between the internal regularity of the melody and the metrical regularity of the scheme—a form of “metrical dissonance,” in as much as it involves a conflict between opposing rhythmic regularities. The conventional 2-phrase and 4-phrase brackets cannot capture the chorus’s internal regularity, but they can show the resulting relationship between phrasing and hypermeter. Figure 5–20B depicts the grouping structure. Of the three soloists analyzed here, Rollins demonstrates the greatest variety of choruslevel phrase rhythm. In eight choruses he implies five distinct structures, through a combination of rhyme, motive, and voice-leading. Taken together, these three solos show that the shallowness of the blues metrical scheme does not confine musicians’ phrase rhythm, but rather inspires innovation. Musicians generate a level of phrase-rhythm between the four-bar level and the chorus-level, without the support of the schematic meter. (Or, in Adderley’s case, accept the shallow chorus-level structure and focus on lower levels.) I return to this technique in chapter 7, in the context of a scheme whose meter is far shallower than that of the blues.

165

Chapter 6: Metrically Atypical Schemes Introduction

Many schemes do not fit within the three categories discussed in the previous chapters. In this chapter, I discuss three schemes that depart in various ways from these models. I focus on metrical departures, rather than harmonic or thematic. (For example, “Stella By Starlight” has an unusual harmonic/thematic design but retains eight-bar hypermeter; it is not metrically atypical.) I assume that many atypical schemes derive from more common models. When common models are taken broadly, as three-part (AABA), two-part (ABAC), or one-part (blues), many unusual schemes can be connected to them. This is the case with the three schemes analyzed below. Departures from metrical regularity fall into two categories: extension and abbreviation. It is quite common to find a four-bar extension in the final section of a thirty-two-bar scheme, expanding an eight-measure section to twelve measures (e.g., “All the Things You Are,” “East of the Sun,” etc.). Several phrase rhythms may fill the resulting twelve-measure section: 8/4, 4/8, 6/6, 4/4/4. Each of the examples below includes an extension. Sonny Rollins’s “Airegin,” a modified ABAC form, includes a four-bar extension in section B; the A sections of “I’ll Remember April” and the B section of “Witchcraft” (both modified AABA forms) include eight-measure extensions. Schemes may also include shortened sections (less than eight measures) or the elimination of sections altogether: abbreviation. “I’ll Remember April” is in ABA form: an A section has been removed from its first part (cf. “Stablemates” by Benny Golson). “Strode Rode,” a modified AABA scheme by Sonny Rollins not analyzed here, has a 4–bar bridge. It may seem that alterations involving the addition or subtraction of a four-bar hypermeasure prevent the emergence of an eight-bar (“sectional”) metrical level, reducing the perceptual salience of sectional downbeats. But recall the qualitative difference between highlevel beats and low-level beats, discussed in chapter 1. The time-span between eight-bar beats is greater than the maximum span at which we can perceive temporal regularity (around 5 or 6

Chapter 6: Metrically Atypical Schemes 166

seconds).81 “Beats” at this level arise through accumulation of perceptible beats, rather than direct perception. Once the listener becomes familiar with the scheme, the downbeat of a twelve-bar section may be perceived with similar ease to the downbeats of eight-bar sections, and do not jeopardize the metrical integrity of the scheme. Harmonic and melodic reinforcement of sectional boundaries strengthens this capacity. For each solo analyzed here, I first summarize the metrical, harmonic, and thematic design of the scheme and its implications for sectional form. Specifically, I determine the number of sections and how each may be internally divided. Then I discuss how the soloist’s phrase rhythm interacts with form on small and large levels. As before, the central question at the chorus-level is whether the soloist reinforces or contradicts the schematic form. Particularly interesting is the question of “conservative” versus “liberal” approaches to unusual form. These schemes are less familiar to player and listener than the thirty-two-bar and twelve-bar forms. This unfamiliarity may cause a musician to follow the form rigidly, since the novelty of the form holds greater inherent interest (and places greater demands on the performers to maintain the scheme). Or it may inspire the musician to follow the lead of the scheme and depart from metrical norms. The solos below illustrate both techniques. Sonny Rollins, “Airegin” (1954) 82

“Airegin” (composed by Rollins himself) is a thirty-six-measure ABAC scheme in which section B is twelve measures long rather than eight. Figure 6–1 shows the metrical-harmonic scheme. Sections B and C have distinct thematic content from the A sections. Tonally, the scheme’s first half moves from tonic to a half-cadence in F minor; the second half modulates to the relative major (Ab). This pattern is common in schemes that begin in the minor mode (cf. “You’d Be So Nice to Come Home to” (Porter) “How Deep Is the Ocean?” (Berlin)).

81

82

London 2004: 46, cited in chapter 1. The complete transcription appears on page 252.


Figure 6–1. “Airegin” (Rollins): Metrical-harmonic scheme. A1:

||: F-

|

C7 |

F-

|

B:

|| Db |D-7 G7 |

C

|C#-7 F#7 || B

|| Bb-7 |Bb-7Eb7 |

Ab

| G-7b5 C7 ||

A2:

same as A1

C:

|| Db |

D˚7 |

C-7 |

F7 || Bb- |

F7 |

Bb- |

Bb- ||

| C-7 F7 |

Bb |

Bb |

Ab |

C7

F7 || Bb-7 |

Eb7 |

:||

Section A1 presents a four-bar phrase in tonic immediately repeated in the subdominant. The first eight measures of section B present a series of tonicizations descending chromatically, of C, B, and Bb. Bb persists for two measures, creating a point of rest within the B section. The section’s final four measures conclude with a turnaround in F, after a brief tonicization of bIII. The point of rest on Bb divides section B, 8/4. Section A2 repeats A1 verbatim. Section C moves immediately towards the key of Ab. The Db harmony in the section’s first measure is best interpreted as IV of Ab, an interpretation reinforced by the subsequent move to D˚7. By convention, a chromatically ascending bass begun on a hypermetrical downbeat implies scale degree 4–scale degree #4–scale degree 5, and generally foreshadows a tonic cadence six measures later, as happens here. Though the final four measures of sections B and C are harmonically identical, the context makes the arrival on Ab in section C stronger than the one in section B. In his solo, Rollins tends to downplay both arrivals on Ab, implying a global tonic of F minor rather than Ab.83 In his three-chorus solo, Rollins consistently respects boundaries within each half-chorus, while employing end-accentuation and combination to contradict the boundaries between choruses and half-choruses. That is, his phrase rhythm reinforces the divisions between sections A1 and B, and A2 and C, but not higher-level divisions. The phrase rhythm of Miles Davis’s solo on “Airegin,” which precedes Rollins’s on the recording, follows roughly the same pattern. This is a striking inversion of the typical approach, in which the soloist respects the scheme’s highest boundaries, while obscuring those within each section. Another unusual feature of the

If Ab is tonic, then is it “prolonged by arrival,” since its status is not revealed until the end. Martin (1988: 15) discusses tonics “prolonged by arrival,” as in “Sweet Georgia Brown” and other schemes with severely off-tonic beginnings. While Ab may be the tonic of the scheme of “Airegin,” Rollins’s solo does not follow this interpretation: he never lends melodic support to the cadence in Ab. 83


solo are the strong similarities between the phrase rhythm within a given section, across multiple choruses. I first consider the A sections, shown in figures 6–2 through 6–7. Rollins indicates the end of each with a very long IOI, usually at least four beats. Every A section is divided into 4phrases, with no overlap or combination; in all but one, the second 4-phrase is shorter than the first, and it is un-accented (section 2A2, fig. 6–5, is the exception). Rollins frequently overlaps the boundary at the beginning of the A section. The consonant, predictable phrase rhythm within each A section balances the dissonance of the overlapped beginning. Unlike every other A section, in section 1A1 (fig. 6–2), the first 4-phrase is end-accented. The phrase culminates with the tonicization of iv on beat 5.1: Rollins maintains or increases the dynamic intensity during the long notes in measures 3 and 4, creating anticipation for this arrival. The first 4-phrase points strongly to iv, the second reinforces this key. They form a textbook 8-phrase. Both begin late in their hypermeasures, and their endings rhyme—though at the non-metrical distance of three measures, not two or four (beats 5.1 and 8.1). The first phrase also contains an internal rhyme, with slight modification, in measures 4 and 5. Figure 6–2. Rollins, “Airegin”: Section 1A1 (mm. 1–8).84 {29} -24

-21

Figure 6–3 shows the end of section 1B and the entirety of section 1A2. A 4+4 combined phrase overlaps the chorus midpoint, so that section 1A2 opens with a phrase that began in the previous hypermeasure. Dominant harmony spans the two beats on either side of beat 21.1, the midpoint of the chorus. Rollins’s melody makes no indication of this hypermetrical downbeat, or the schematic half-cadence that ended the first half of the scheme one measure earlier. As in section 1A1, the second 4-phrase of 1A2 is un-accented. The melody in the first hypermeasure of section 1A2 prolongs tonic (mm. 21–24), so that the move to the subdominant in measures

84



25 to 28 sounds like an answer, as in the scheme. Contrast this with section 1A1 (fig. 6–2), in which the melody emphasized the attainment of the subdominant. Figure 6–3. Rollins, “Airegin”: Section 1A2 (and portion of 1B, mm. 17–28). {29} -12421

12-

Section 2A1, the first section of chorus 2 (fig. 6–4), closely resembles section 1A2 (6–3). It opens with the second half of a 4+4 combined phrase, and an elaboration of dominant harmony straddles the chorus downbeat (beat 37.1), just like the downbeat of section 1A2. In measures 40 and 24, the melody reaches a similar climax. The second 4-phrases of each section (mm. 42–43 and 26–27) are identical in prosody and essential voice-leading. When two A sections within the same chorus have such similar phrase rhythm, it supports the schematic structure through the implication of a “reprise.” I observed this pattern in Charlie Parker’s “Yardbird Suite” and Bill Evans’s “My Romance.” But here, sections 1A2 and 2A1 are separated by a chorus boundary. The parallelism does not support the chorus-level two-part structure, but creates unity at a higher level. Figure 6–4. Rollins, “Airegin”: Section 2A1 (mm. 37–44). {29} …421 –

12-


A 4+4 combined phrase overlaps the midpoint of chorus 1 and the downbeat of chorus 2, the downbeats of two successive A sections (figs. 6–3 and 6–4). Rollins’s treatment of subsequent A-section (half-chorus-level) downbeats is more consonant. The downbeat of section 2A2 (fig. 6–5, m. 57) is punctuated by the final note of an end-accented phrase, the final phrase of the chorus’s first half. Although it is dissonant with the metrical scheme, this phrase-ending still calls attention to the sectional downbeat. A phrase-ending similarly accents the downbeat of section 3A1, shown in figure 6–6. In both figures, the subsequent 4-phrase (mm. 57–60 and 74–86) is un-accented, causing it to sound like an echo of the metrically strong phrase-ending that preceded it (mm. 57 and 73). Figure 6–5. Rollins, “Airegin”: Section 2A2 (and preceding portion of 2B, mm. 53–64) . {29} -12

-14

-121

42

The constituent 4-phrases of section 2A2 (fig. 6–5, mm. 57–64) are constructed in parallel with one another. Both have suffixes, and their main portions have rhyming endings (mm. 59, 63). However, the second 4-phrase is beginning-accented, not un-accented, weakening the parallelism and distinguishing this A-section from the others.


Figure 6–6. Rollins, “Airegin”: Section 3A1 (and preceding portion of 2C, mm. 73–80) . {29}

-21-

-121

Figure 6–7 shows section 3A2 along with the preceding portion of section 3B. Rollins’s treatment of the sectional downbeat, beat 93.1, is superficially similar to that in figures 6–5 and 6–6: the ending of a segment coincides with the downbeat. But the overall phrase rhythm here is more consonant than in those examples. Specifically, the segment-ending in measure 93 is only the end of a prefix, and belongs to the 4-phrase that follows; in the other examples, the ending on the sectional downbeat terminated an end-accented 4-phrase that occupied the preceding hypermeasure: the superimposition of 4-phrase ending and hypermetrical beginning created phrase-rhythm dissonance. The different phrase rhythm in figure 6–7 hinges on the existence of a plausible 4-phrase division in measure 91, supported by melodic interval, a strong beat (the backwards influence of beat 93.1), and Rollins’s articulation (not entirely evident in the transcription). But even here, Rollins does not respect the schematic half-cadence, instead treating measure 92 as an anacrusis to the next downbeat. Figure 6–7. Rollins, “Airegin”: Section 3A2 (and prec. portion of 3B, mm. 89–100). {29} -12-

142-

-12-


In addition to similarities in phrase rhythm, common melodic features permeate the A sections. The figure Ab–F concludes the first 4-phrase of each A section after section 1A1. It even appears in section 1A1, mid-phrase (fig. 6–2: m. 4). The voice-leading of the second 4phrases is identical in figures 6–3, 6–4, 6–5, and 6–6: an elaboration of motion from F5 to Db5, a prolongation of iv. The twelve-measure B sections are even more closely related. All the B sections include two main segments, an 8-phrase and a 4-phrase, echoing the theme’s division of this section into two groups, 8/4. The 4-phrases are shown in figures 6–3, 6–5, and 6–7, discussed above. Figure 6–8 compares the 8-phrases of each B section, alongside the theme. This section of the theme (fig. 6–8A) is constructed from three overlapping appearances of the bracketed motive, outlining the scale degree pattern (4–)5–4–3 in C, B, and Bb. The grouping structure is unclear. In fact, it is debatable whether any divisions should be drawn within this phrase. These are obscured by both the overlapping motives and the harmony. Each local tonic is preceded by its ii–V in the preceding weak measure, giving each two-bar downbeat a onemeasure anacrusis. This creates end-accentuation at the two-bar level. Rollins’s solo preserves the theme’s voice-leading but exploits the grouping structure’s ambiguities. Figure 6–8. Rollins, “Airegin”: Comparison of B sections. {29} 6–8A. Theme (numbers below the staff show downbeat strength).

6–8B. Section 1B, first eight measures (mm. 9–16).


6–8C. Section 2B, first eight measures (mm. 45–52).

6–8D. Section 3B, first eight measures (mm. 81–88).

In all three choruses (figs. B, C, D), I have analyzed the phrase rhythm of this passage as four successive 2-phrases. These phrases differ in the details. I have bracketed appearances of the motive 5(–4)–3, corresponding to the motive of figure A (the theme). The motive articulates motion from dominant to tonic in each key. A central feature of the grouping structure is whether or not Rollins separates the motive among two phrases. The harmonic orientation of the motive, V–I, thus corresponds with the harmonic orientation of the phrase: if the motive is undivided, the phrase will articulate motion from dominant to tonic; if the motive is divided, the grouping structure will undercut this motion. Figure 6–9 summarizes the results, showing that no two choruses are alike. Several other features stand out. First, each motive appears at least once divided, and once intact. Second, the first two 2-phrases, which form a 4-phrase, always have parallel harmonic orientation. This increases the coherence of the resulting 4-phrase, making it easier to perceive.


Figure 6–9. Relation of harmony and motive to phrase rhythm. Chorus 1:

[

(fig. 6–8A)

[

Motive 1

][

Motive 2

][

[

V–I

][

V–I

][

I, V

][

I

]

Chorus 2:

[

2

][

2

][

2

][

2

]

(fig. 6–8B)

[

Motive 1

][

Motive 2

[

I, V

][

I, V

][

I, V

][

I

]

[

2

][

2

][

2

][

2

]

Chorus 3:

2

(fig. 6–8C) [

I, V

][

2

][

[Motive 1][

Motive 2

][

][

I, V

2

][

2

Motive 3

][

V–I

] ]

Motive 3

]

][

Motive 3

]

][

V–I

]

As should be clear from this analysis, my phrase-rhythm analysis of these passages depends on IOI and meter far more than motive: when the two come into conflict, I readily divide the motive across phrases. I hear motive and segmentation as independent aspects of the music, sometimes mutually reinforcing, sometimes not. Two of the 4-phrase divisions in figure 6–8 bear clarification. The first is in measure 48 (fig. C). This division is motivated chiefly by parallelism and strong beat (beat 49.1). The first 2-phrase of the example consists of a threenote scalar passage. When the parallel passage is heard at the end of the 4-phrase in measure 48, it suggests a parallel ending. Even more compelling, to my ears, are the rhyming beginnings in measure 48 and 50. If the listener is in doubt about whether to place a division in measure 48, the unmistakable rhyme in measure 50, in the same syncopated rhythm, may cause a retroactive awareness of the parallel beginning in measure 48. The other questionable 4-phrase division is in measure 84 (fig. D). This division is motivated by astrong beat (85.1). A 4-phrase division here also causes close correspondence between the opening gesture of each 2-phrase: in order, the 2-phrases begin on Ab, G, F#, and F, with this note followed by a rapid descent. I find this gesture highly suggestive of parallel phrase-beginnings.


Rollins’s phrase rhythm in the B-section suggests a different view of the scheme from the one I presented above. There, I argued that the scheme is a modified ABAC, and that the fourmeasure extension in the B section delays but does not alter the section’s essential harmonic goal, a half-cadence in F minor. According to this view, the twelve-measure B section presents a single, continuous motion towards this goal. In his solo, Rollins instead emphasizes the coherence of the section’s first eight measures, as though these measures were a self-contained section, ending on IV. He treats the remaining four measures as an extended anacrusis to the next A section. An analogy might be drawn with a compositional procedure common in thirty-two-bar ABAC form. Sometimes the B section tonicizes a distantly related key, and the medial halfcadence is replaced by a turnaround that abruptly returns to the original key. Figure 6–10 shows the harmonies from the middle portion of “The Touch of Your Lips” (Noble). The scheme begins in C major but tonicizes E major (III#) in the B section. The example shows this tonicization and the abrupt return to C major at the beginning of the next section. Similarly, Rollins plays the final four measures of the B section not as motion towards a (back-relating) half-cadence, but as an extended turnaround, leading forward to the downbeat of the next A section. IV, not V, is the true harmonic goal of the B section, always highlighted by Rollins with an 8-phrase ending. The rest of the section is an expanded link from Bb major back to F minor—as though the abrupt turnaround of figure 6–10 were expanded to five measures. Therefore, the twelve-measure B section of “Airegin” can be seen as an expansion of an eightmeasure prototype, in which the tonicization of IV is followed with a similar turnaround. Figure 6–11 shows my recomposition of the B section along these lines. Figure 6–10. Midpoint of “The Touch of Your Lips” (Noble). m.

13

Section:

End of B | E/B C#7

14

15

16

|| 17 || A2

| F#7 B7

| E

| D-7 G7

|| C


Figure 6–11. Recomposition of “Airegin,” section B. 6–11A. Original (Rollins). ((ii–V) applies to subsequent harmony.) m.

9

10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 || 21

Section: B

|| A2

Db (ii–V) C (ii–V) B (ii–V) Bb Bb (ii– V) Ab (ii–V) || F6–11B. Hypothetical eight-measure prototype for B. m.

9

10 11 12 13 14 15 16 || 17

Section: B

|| A2

Db (ii–V) C (ii–V) B (ii–V) Bb (ii–V) || FAll of the eight-measure C sections contain weak or nonexistent 4-phrase divisions, directing attention from the hypermetrical to the sectional level of the scheme. A combined phrase overlaps the midpoint of section 1C, and a single 8-phrase overlaps the midpoint of section 2C (fig. 6–12A and B), continuing into the next chorus. This is the opposite strategy from that seen in Charlie Parker’s multi-chorus solos on “Ornithology” and “Chi Chi,” in chapters 4 and 5. Parker tended to leave a large rest at the end of each chorus but the last. This gap invites the listener to ask, “What will he do next?” It also gives Parker a chance to catch his breath and begin the next chorus with a fresh idea. Parker made no effort to disguise or obscure the gap between choruses. Here, Rollins reserves his longest and most dramatic phrases for the chorus boundaries. This contradicts the scheme and gives the solo a relentless quality. Figure 6–12. Rollins, “Airegin”: C sections. {29} 6–12A. Section 1C (mm. 29–36). -144…


6–12B. Section 2C (mm. 65–72). 1244

6–12C. Section 3C (mm. 100–108).

421-

41-

-1-

Section 3C concludes the solo (fig. 6–12C). Although I identify a 4-phrase division in measure 104, it is obscured by the short IOI in measure 104 and the similar melodic gesture on either side of the division, marked with arrows. In his solo on “Tenor Madness,” Rollins’s phrase rhythm showed great diversity from chorus to chorus. In “Airegin,” he takes the opposite approach—perhaps because of the metrically unusual scheme. The phrase rhythm of each section, especially section B, shows remarkable consistency from chorus to chorus. Rollins reinforces the scheme’s unusual metrical design by emphasizing the boundaries within each half-chorus: between section A1 and B, between the two portions of section B, and between sections A2 and C. He compensates for this consonance by overlapping every half-chorus and chorus-level boundary.


Bill Evans, “Witchcraft” (1959)85

The scheme of “Witchcraft” (Coleman) is a modified AABA form (fig. 6–13). Its first half retains the metrical design of thirty-two-bar AABA form, but deviates from typical harmonic procedure: section A2 opens on the subdominant (using the same motivic material as A1) and closes with a half-cadence in tonic, elaborating motion from predominant to dominant. The sixteen-measure bridge deviates from standard harmonic and metrical procedure. Though its second eight-measure group is fairly conventional—tonicization of iii, then ii, leading to a halfcadence—its first eight measures take place over a dominant pedal-point, extending the dominant that ended section A2.86 These eight measures are unusual both for their very existence and for the fact that extend the last harmony of section A2—one expects a bridge to begin with a harmonic digression (the schematic melody and lyrics do digress at this point). Alternatively, one might view the bridge as having two discrete sections, B1 and B2, eight measures each. The lack of harmonic activity in its first eight measures, however, leads me to treat the bridge as a single, extended section. Section A3 serves its usual role of reprise, intensified here because of the lengthy bridge and because section A2 did not repeat section A1 literally: A3 is only the second appearance of the opening theme in tonic, rather than the third, as in a typical AABA form. Figure 6–13. “Witchcraft” (Coleman): Metrical-harmonic scheme. Parentheses show secondary function. A1:

|

I

|

A2:

|

IV |

B:

| I/^5

I

| CT˚7 | CT˚7 |

IV |

|

iv

| bVII | bIII

| ii/^5 |

V

| I/^5

|

V

|

I

| (V) |

| bIII

|

ii

|

| I/^5

| ( iiØ | V ) |

B (cont.): |

iii

|

iii

|

| (V) |

ii

|

ii

|

iiØ

|

A3:

I

|

I

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Melodically, “Witchcraft” preserves the formal guideposts of traditional AABA form. But these deviations from standard harmonic practice suggest that it is not a three-part form, unlike

85

The complete transcription appears on page 255. That is, Evans’s version uses a dominant pedal in the first half of the bridge. The scheme is sometimes realized with this section as a prolongation of tonic, suggesting a different choruslevel structure. Certainly the dominant pedal creates greater harmonic drama. 86


most AABA schemes. Section A2 ends with a half-cadence, prolonged by the bridge. There is no medial authentic cadence; indeed, there is no authentic cadence of any kind until the end of the scheme. This points towards a two-part interpretation aligned with the Schenkerian view of AABA form: A1 A2 B / A3. However, Evans’s two-chorus solo does not support this interpretation. Instead, the chorus-level phrase structure of both choruses has three parts, A1 A2 / B / A3. In chorus 1, prosody creates a link between the 8-phrases of sections A1 and A2 (fig. 6– 14). The four segments of section A1 all have similar prosody: a long anacrusis to a strong downbeat, either I.1 or III.1. The result is a pair of beginning-accented 4-phrases constructed from end-accented 2-phrases. The first segment of section A2 (mm. 9–10) continues the endaccented prosody of the previous four segments, establishing a connection across the sectional division. But the next segment (mm. 11 ff.) breaks the parallelism. Therefore, the solo opens with five successive segments of similar prosody. (I noted a similar passage in “My Romance,” ch. 4.) The first 8-phrase is constructed in perfect parallel, 2/2/2/2—but there is a “dangling” phrase (mm. 9–10) separated from the 2-phrases with which it rhymes. I analyze this as a prefix because the phrase that follows far outweighs it in length. The 4-phrase division within section A2 (m. 13) is extremely weak, suggested only by melodic interval and the strength of beat 14.1. This balances the well-separated segments of section A1 and distinguishes the A sections. A long rest at the end of A2 reinforces the division before the bridge, one of the primary divisions of the three-part form. End-accentuation and common prosody also unite section 1B (fig. 6–15). Five out of seven phrases have the prosody [-1-]. The first three 2-phrases rhyme, but in another example of frustrated parallelism, the fourth 2-phrase goes further than expected, ending on the downbeat of the bridge’s second half. (Compare this with section 1B of Davis’s “Oleo,” shown in figure 3–5.) While no rest supports the phrase-division in measure 26, the melodic sixth and rapid ascent that begins on beat 26.1.5 suggest a boundary, albeit a weak one. This boundary is also reinforced by the melodic and metrical beginning-rhyme between beats 26.1.5 and 30.1.5. The final two segments of the bridge (mm. 30–33) match the contour and prosody of the opening segments (mm. 18–23): the bridge begins and ends with arching un-accented 2-phrases, contrasting with the end-accented 2-phrases so prominent in section 1A1.


Figure 6–14. Evans, “Witchcraft”: Sections 1A1 and 1A2 (mm. 1–17).87 {10} -2

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Figure 6–15. Evans, “Witchcraft”: Section 1B (mm. 18–33). {10} -1-

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Evans uses contour carefully. He consistently begins sections with an ascending melody and ends them with a descending melody. Consider the boundary between sections 1A1 and 1A2 in figure 6–14. Section 1A1 concludes with a descending fifth, while section 1A2 begins with a rapid ascent. Evans uses downward contour before the first chorus’s most significant

87



boundaries (A1 A2 / B / A3), and upward contour after. (See mm. 16–18 and 33–34, in figures 6–14, 6–15, and 6–16.) Evans also uses contour to obscure the boundary between chorus 1 and chorus 2. Figure 6– 16 shows section 1A3. The low point at the end of chorus 1, in measure 40, does not coincide with a plausible ending point for the chorus’s final phrase. Relative to the low point, the 8phrase division after beat 41.1 comes too late. The melody seems to trail off and lose focus leading up to this division, rather than coming to a clear end. At beat 41.2.5, the shift to sixteenth-notes suggests renewed energy, and the melody begins ascending more rapidly. But the division in measure 41 is very weak, coming in the middle of an ascending passage, and barely separates the choruses. The first chorus thus ends on a note of uncertainty. Figure 6–16. Evans, “Witchcraft”: Section 1A3 (mm. 34–51). {10} -12421

As in chorus 1, Evans divides chorus 2 into three parts—A1 A2 / B / A3. He blurs the internal boundaries of the first two parts through phrase combination. Figure 6–17 shows the first part, sections 2A1 and 2A2. The chorus opens with a rhyming pair of 2-phrases, just like the first chorus. This feature mirrors the theme, which also opens with rhyming 2-phrases. But Evans modifies the prosody, making an allusion rather than a reference: the prosody of the theme’s 2-phrases is [-1-][-1-]; in Evans’s first chorus, it is [-4][-2]; in chorus 2, [-4-][-2-]. On beat 48.2.5, near the end of section A1, Evans introduces a new motive before the phrase has reached a satisfactory end. The motive intrudes in the final portion of the 4-phrase and continues into the next hypermeasure, creating a combined phrase across the sectional boundary. It unites sections A1 and A2. (It even returns in the bridge, after a phrase division in measure 57 created by IOI.) In chorus 1, Evans united the opening pair of A sections by continuing a feature of section A1—end-accented 2-phrase prosody—a few measure late, into section A2. Here, he unites the A sections by introducing a conspicuous motive a few measures


early, before the end of section A1. In both cases, tension arises through the contradiction between the schematic point of division, at the sectional downbeat, and the point of division arising from a change in some musical parameter (prosody or motive). Figure 6–17. Evans, “Witchcraft”: Sections 2A1 and 2A2 (mm. 41–57). {10} -4-

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Figure 6–18. Evans, “Witchcraft”: Section 2B (mm. 58–73). {10}

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Figure 6–18 shows the second part of chorus 2. On the basis of IOI alone, there should be no phrase division at beats 59.4 and 61.4. But I hear the final notes of measures 59 and 61, just after these divisions, as one-note anacruses to a set of sixteenth-notes (echoes of the first note in measure 58). The first 4-phrase thus neatly divides into four 1-phrases. Evans does not stop at four: he opens the next 4-phrase with a fifth repetition of the figure (m. 62), cutting across the hypermetrical downbeat. For the second time in the solo, a figure appears an odd number of times, frustrating parallelism and creating dissonance with the scheme. While Evans employed end-accentuation at the midpoint of section 1B (fig. 6–15, m. 26), he employs pseudo-end-accentuation at the midpoint of section 2B (fig. 6–18, m. 66). The phrase-ending in measure 66 might be interpreted as mere end-accentuation, rather than combination (imagine a dotted square bracket here). But the end-rhyme between measures 66 and 68, reinforced by melody and harmony, suggests that these segments both belong to the portion of the bridge in A minor. The ascending melodic gesture on beat 66.1 is also suggestive of a beginning rather than an ending. This scheme, like “Airegin,” has a built-in harmonic anacrusis: measures 64 and 65, ii–V of A minor, are harmonically grouped with measures 66 to 68; measure 69 (V of G) similarly groups with measure 70. Evans’s grouping structure reflects this. The combined phrase in measures 63 to 66 seems to become an anacrusis somewhere in measure 64 or 65. Complicating matters, Evans uses another odd set of rhyming endings, in measures 66, 68, and 70. The analysis in figure 6–18 groups the first two of these together but excludes the third. The alternative analysis in figure 6–19 groups the second and third rhymes together but excludes the first. Here, measures 66 to 70 contain an end-accented 4-phrase divided into endaccented 2-phrases. The phrase in measures 70 to 73 is an un-accented 4-phrase that resolves the dissonance of the previous hypermeasure. The key difference to hearing is whether the segment in measures 68 to 70 sounds like an ending (fig. 6–18) or a beginning (6–19)?


Figure 6–19. An alternative analysis of “Witchcraft,” mm. 66–73. {10}

The phrase rhythm of section 2A3 is relatively consonant (fig. 6–20). Evans passes over the schematic cadence in measure 80 to connect smoothly with the next solo, as he did in “My Romance” (chapter 4). Figure 6–20. Evans, “Witchcraft”: Section 2A3 (mm. 74–92). {10} 2-

44

The scheme of “Witchcraft” presents both harmonic and metrical oddities, relative to the usual AABA form. It might be taken as a two- or a three-part form: A1 A2 B / A3 or A1 A2 / B / A3. An improvised solo on such a tune constitutes an argument for one interpretation or the other. In both choruses of his solo, Evans presents a case for the three-part interpretation, exaggerating the chorus’s two main sectional divisions and blurring the boundaries within each of the three parts. But his solo could just as easily have taken the opposite view, by downplaying the boundary before the bridge. In previous analyses, I showed how the soloist supported or contradicted the schematic form; when playing on a formally ambiguous scheme, the soloist can advocate for one interpretation over another.


Brown, “I’ll Remember April” (1956) 88

In his short life, Clifford Brown (1930–1956) earned a reputation as “one of the greatest of all trumpet players” (Martin & Waters 2002: 229). He played a prominent role in some of the most important hard bop ensembles of the ‘50s, including Art Blakey’s Jazz Messenger’s, and the Clifford Brown-Max Roach Quintet, in which group he was joined by Sonny Rollins. His solo on “I’ll Remember April,” accompanied by this group, demonstrates his ability to “[negotiate] impossibly fast tempos with ease”—on this performance, 290 quarter-notes per minute—as well as his penchant for long, sinuous phrases that begin and end unpredictably (Martin & Waters 2002: 228). The scheme of “I’ll Remember April” (Johnston) is in ABA form, with each section lasting sixteen measures (fig. 6–21). Harmonically, the A sections are closed and the B section is open, as in the prototypical AABA form. Each A section elaborates a single harmonic motion I–V–I, with the first eight measures occupied by a tonic pedal. The B section’s eight-measure halves achieve two distinct harmonic goals: a cadence in Bb in the first half (bIII), and a half-cadence in the main key to close the section (as in the typical AABA form). The ensemble’s arrangement of the opening theme reinforces the three-part form: sectional boundaries are marked by a change in rhythmic feel and the primary melodic instrument: “straight” eighthnotes and trumpet in the A sections; “swing” eighth-notes and saxophone in the B section. Figure 6–21. “I’ll Remember April” (Johnston): Metrical-harmonic scheme. A1:

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Same as A1 While Rollins and Evans both respected the sectional boundaries of their unusual

schemes, Brown consistently obscures the ternary form of “I’ll Remember April.”89 He creates phrase-rhythm dissonance with phrase combination and extremely long phrases—the longest 88

The complete transcription appears on page 257. For comparison: Rollins, whose two-chorus solo on “I’ll Remember April” follows Brown’s, respects sectional and chorus boundaries in four out of five instances. 89


phrase is twelve measures long. There are no end-accented phrases, which is typical of Brown at a fast tempo. Chorus 2 is more dissonant than chorus 1. The first chorus opens with an 8-phrase, a rarity in this solo (fig. 6–22A). In the more dissonant second chorus, a single combined phrase spans the first nine measures of section A1 (fig. B), overlapping the section’s midpoint. Brown includes a long passage of 3/2 dissonance at the eighth-note level, echoing the phrase-rhythm dissonance in miniature. (The phrase even includes a quotation from Chopin’s “Minute Waltz.”) Later in the section, the weak 2-phrase division in measure 15 (fig. A) is absent from the corresponding place in chorus 2 (fig. B, m. 63), replaced by a stream of eighth-notes. Figure 6–22. Brown, “I’ll Remember April”: Sections 1A1 and 2A1. 90 {4} 6–22A. 1A1 (mm. 1–17). 142

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6–22B. 2A1 (mm. 50–65).

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In other cases, chorus 2 presents a modified version of chorus 1. In measures 12 to 15, Brown employs a 2+2 combined phrase. In chorus 2, what was the first part of this combined phrase becomes a long anacrusis. The phrase-beginning in measure 60 corresponds to that in measure 12—it begins on beat III.4 of the hypermeasure rather than beat III.3—but the context supports the different interpretation. Figure 6–23 shows the junction of sections A1 and B, illustrating Brown’s characteristically dissonant treatment of this passage. He blurs the sectional boundary (mm. 18 and 66) with a combined phrase, denying closure to the A section. The phrase itself is also similar in both choruses: the section B downbeat (beats 18.1 and 66.1) coincides with a peak in melodic contour, on a note that is dissonant with the local harmony. Even the melody that follows the sectional downbeat is similar in both choruses. In chorus 2, Brown blurs the sectional division even further by introducing Bb, a characteristic note of C-7, one measure too early, over G major harmony (m. 65). (Compare this to the first hypermeasure of section A1 in both choruses (fig. 6–22: mm. 4 and 53), where Brown similarly suggests the shift from G major to G minor before the scheme calls for it.)


Figure 6–23. Brown, “I’ll Remember April”: Junction of sections A1 and B. {4} 6–23A. mm. 14–26.

6–23B. mm. 62–73.

Brown continues the combined phrase all the way to the bridge’s first cadence, six measures later (mm. 24 and 72), crossing another hypermetrical downbeat in the process (beats 22.1 and 70.1). The tonicization of Bb (mm. 24, 72) is the first point of simultaneous harmonic and melodic closure in each chorus. In chorus 1 (fig. 6–23A), Brown highlights beat 22.1 through melodic contour and consonance: the note on this beat initiates upward motion from the root of the local harmony, C-7. He also accents beat 24.1, the moment of tonic resolution, by ending his phrase within this beat. But in chorus 2 (fig. B), these events each take place two beats later: Brown overlaps the hypermetrical downbeat, beat 70.1, with an arpeggiated diminished-seventh chord, and his melody arrives on C-7 occurs on beat 70.3; in measure 72, he adds a short tail after the cadence, extending the phrase through beat 72.3. Figure 6–24 continues directly from figure 6–23, showing the second half of the bridge and the junction with section A2. After tonicizing Bb, Brown reinforces the passing tonicization of G four measures later (mm. 29 and 76). He places a 4-phrase division at this


point. However, this tonicization occurs in the middle of an eight-bar hypermeasure, so it lacks the metrical stability of the tonicization of Bb, which came at the end of an eight-bar hypermeasure. Perhaps the greatest difference between the choruses is in Brown’s treatment of the schematic half-cadence, in measures 33 and 81. In the first chorus, Brown pauses briefly at the tonicization of E (fig. 6–24A, m. 32), but undercuts this moment through sequential repetition of the same figure in measure 33, over the half-cadence. This makes the tonicization of E sound like an intermediate step towards this larger goal, shared with the scheme. He punctuates the half-cadence with an 8-phrase division. In the more dissonant second chorus, Brown suppresses the half-cadence with an end-accented phrase (fig. 6–24B, m. 82), overlapping the beginning of section 2A2. Figure 6–24. Brown, “I’ll Remember April”: Junction of sections B and A2. {4} 6–24A. Chorus 1 (mm. 25–37). 41-

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Figure 6–25 presents the final section of each chorus. Again, chorus 2 is more dissonant. A combined phrase runs across the section midpoint in both choruses (mm. 42, 90). But in chorus 1, the change in motive and rhythm on beat 42.2 gives some reinforcement to the hypermetrical downbeat, while in chorus 2, Brown begins a new motive in measure 87 and continues it through beat 90.3, further obscuring the hypermeter. In both cases, the combined phrase obscures the eight-bar level and focuses attention on the sixteen-bar section. The melodic ending in measure 48 coincides with the schematic arrival on tonic, but the conclusion on scale degree 5, approached chromatically from below, is tonally unstable. As in Charlie Parker’s solos, a long IOI separates the choruses and reinforces this highest-level formal boundary, leaving the listener eager for the next chorus to begin. At the end of the solo, Brown avoids overlapping beat 96.1, the moment of schematic arrival on tonic. Instead, he concludes the solo with an end-accented phrase leading to the downbeat of the next chorus, in the stereotyped fashion. Figure 6–25C compares the grouping structures of these sections. Even though both contain phrase combination, chorus 2 is far more dissonant, reflected in its shallower grouping structure. Figure 6–25. Brown, “I’ll Remember April”: Section A2. {4} 6–25A. Section 1A2 (mm. 34–49). -12

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6–25B. Section 2A2 (mm. 82–98). …41

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6–25C. Comparison of grouping structures. m. 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] 4:

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m. 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] [1] [2] [1] [4] 2:

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The high level of dissonance in Brown’s solo obscures the scheme’s three-part structure. Brown reinforces the schematic three-part structure in only two out of five possible places, both in chorus 1: the half-cadence after section B, and the boundary between choruses. The additional dissonances in chorus 2, where chorus 1 had closed phrases, make the chorus-level structure extremely irregular and entirely dissonant with the scheme. The bulk of chorus 2 comprises four long phrases, each of which crosses an eight- or sixteen-bar downbeat. To a listener sensitive to the scheme’s metrical and harmonic punctuation marks, Brown’s solo presents an intensely dissonant counterpoint.

192

Chapter 7: Some Pedagogical and Analytical Extensions In this chapter, I present some extensions to the approach outlined in the preceding chapters. First, I describe a method for teaching phrase rhythm to melodic improvisers, building from the 2-phrase to the 8-phrase level. It derives from the approach described above, but it could be taught to a student (and by a teacher) who did not understand the analytical method in every detail. Second, I attempt to adapt the method to two unusual situations: performances at a very slow tempo, when the tactus appears to shift to the eighth-note; and a “modal” scheme whose schematic metrical structure is very shallow, consisting only of two-bar hypermeasures: John Coltrane’s version of Richard Rodgers’ “My Favorite Things.”

A Pedagogy of Phrase Rhythm

The goal of this pedagogical method is to increase awareness and control of phrase rhythm in melodic improvisation. Through this, phrase rhythm becomes another tool for the construction of artful, engaging solos. Like harmony or voice-leading, phrase rhythm is a component of any solo, whether or not the soloist is aware of it; gaining this awareness is therefore of great value to improving improvisation. The goal of the method, like any other, is not that the musician be self-conscious about phrase rhythm in performance. Rather, the underlying assumption is that conscious attention to phrase rhythm in a practice environment will ultimately affect improvised performance, even without conscious attention during performance. In the same way, the deliberate repetition of scales and melodic patterns allows the musician to employ these devices unconsciously in performance. The sophistication of an improviser’s phrase rhythm is independent of mastery of scales, harmony, motive, voice-leading or metrical dissonance. It is easy to imagine a student with imperfect control of harmony, who nonetheless learns to employ combined phrases, endaccented phrases, phrase overlap, etc. in subtle and intricate fashion. Indeed, it might be very rewarding for such a student, who may feel limited in other areas, to gain control over phrase rhythm.


193

There are many conceivable methods to teaching phrase rhythm rooted in the approach of the preceding chapters. My intention here is to present one method, not exclude others. But no matter the specific method, it seems essential to instill three abilities: 1. Sensitivity to hypermeter. The student must perceive the passage of two-, four-, and eight-bar hypermeasures with little effort. 2. The ability to employ rests both within and between phrases. 3. The ability to play coherent phrases of any length, stopping and ending at any time. The method consists of a series of graduated exercises, progressing from lower to higher levels of grouping structure. I developed the exercises of the method using myself as the student; any competent improviser should similarly be able to learn these techniques independently. For beginning students an outside teacher would be necessary. The method is appropriate for all musicians who have reached the level of improvising entire choruses, and who can improvise melodic content at will, without much forethought. The student first acquires control over consonant, low-level phrase rhythm—beginning-accented 2-phrases—and continues from there. Experienced players will probably advance more quickly than beginners, but everyone proceeds through the same course. Figure 7–1 lists the exercises. Figure 7–2 places the same exercises in a networked hierarchy, illustrating how each exercise builds on the foundation of the previous exercises. Numbers next to each box in figure 7–1 indicate the relevant exercise. Together, these figures summarize the method described below. Practice occurs while improvising continuously over a thirty-two-bar scheme, playing multiple choruses as necessary. In the musical examples, I show possible realizations of the exercises over “Rhythm changes.” A medium or fast tempo is best, in order to make the hypermeter easy to perceive.


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Figure 7–1. Eight graduated exercises for practicing phrase rhythm. 1. 2-phrase: beginning- [21], end- [12], and un-accented [-1-]. a. Use a single type for an entire chorus, then switch to the next type. b. Use a single type for sixteen measures, then switch. Continue through multiple choruses. c. Use a single type for eight measures (four phrases), then switch. d. Use a single type for four measures (two phrases), then switch. e. Switch between types with every phrase, or at the teacher’s cue. 2. Division into 1-phrases. a. Repeat exercise 1, but divide each 2-phrase into two 1-phrases. i. For beginning-accented 2-phrase: 1-phrase begin on beat 1, end on beat 3. ii. For end-accented 2-phrase: 1-phrases begin on beat 3, end on beat 1. iii. For un-accented 2-phrase: 1-phrases begin on beat 2, end on beat 4. b. Play a series of four-measure sentences: 1-phrase, 1-phrase, 2-phrase, where all phrases are either beginning-, end-, or middle-accented. 3. 4-phrase: beginning- [421], end- [124], un- [121], and double-accented [44]. a. Use a single type for an entire chorus, then switch to the next type. b. As in exercise 1, try switching between types at progressively smaller metrical intervals: sixteen, eight, and four measures. Use the following order of types: beginning-, un-, double-, un-accented. 4. Asymmetrical division of the 4-phrase. a. Working with a single 4-phrase type, place a division somewhere early in the phrase to create the pattern “short-long.” Try with every type, following the plan in exercise 3. b. Working with a single type, place a division somewhere late in the phrase to create the pattern “long-short.” Try with every type, following the plan in exercise 3. 5. Eight-measure sentences: select an appropriate pair of 2-phrases and a 4-phrase that form an eight-measure sentence. Employ this structure continually through several choruses. Repeat with a different structure. 6. Phrase overlap: an eight-measure hypermeasure may incorporate phrase overlap in four different ways. Practice each one, using it continually through several choruses. a. 4O4 (4-phrase overlaps 4-phrase) b. 4O2/2 (4-phrase overlaps 2-phrase / 2-phrase) c. 2/2O4 (2-phrase / 2-phrase overlaps 4-phrase) d. 2/2O2/2 (2-phrase / 2-phrase overlaps 2-phrase / 2-phrase) 7. Combined phrase: an eight-measure hypermeasure may incorporate a combined phrase in four different ways, analogous to those in exercise 6. Practice each one. 8. Imitation a. Record the phrase rhythm of a solo by another performer. Then follow this phrase-rhythm plan in an improvised solo, ignoring the original melody. b. Follow the plan on other schemes that have the same metrical structure.


195

Figure 7–2. The pedagogical program. Exercise numbers corresponding with figure 7–1 appear in boxes.

8

Imitation of noteworthy solos

8-phrase Pair 4/4

5

Sentences 2, 2 / 4

4-phrase Paired 2/2

Undivided Beg-acc., end-acc., un-acc., double-acc.

1

2-phrase Beg-acc., end-acc., un-acc. Start Here

2

Division (1-phrase)

4

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Overlap 4+4, 4+2/2, 2/2+4, 2/2+2/2

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Combination Same groupings as overlap

3

Asymm. Div. Long-short, short-long

The Two-Measure Level (Exercises 1, 2)

Figure 7–3 shows some hypothetical realizations of exercise 1, which focuses on the 2-phrase level. 2-phrases come in three types: beginning-accented, end-accented, and un-accented. In example 7–3A, the student has played a series of beginning-accented 2-phrases; in 7–3B, endaccented; in 7–3C, un-accented; in 7–3D, the student has switched between the three types


196

with every phrase, the most advanced stage of the exercise. (Though the examples show only a few phrases, the student would continue through a thirty-two-bar chorus or more.) Figure 7–3. Exercise 1: 2-phrases. 7–3A. Beginning-accented (exercise 1a).

7–3B. End-accented (exercise 1a).

7–3C. Un-accented (exercise 1a).

7–3D. Switching types between every phrase (exercise 1e).

Before this can be done, the student must be able to perceive the alternation of strong and weak downbeats: two-measure hypermeter. This can be accomplished through counting, conducting, or other methods. The student will probably have an intuitive grasp of this already.


197

Then the student learns to think of downbeats as either [2] or [1], depending on their strength. This lays the foundation for prosodic notation, which makes it much easier to describe phrases. As described in figure 7–1, the student first plays a single type continually until comfortable, before switching between the types during improvisation. At first, the student might feel most comfortable beginning and ending each particular type at exactly the same point in the hypermeasure—for example, every beginning-accented phrase might begin on the two-bar downbeat and end on the next downbeat. This is acceptable at first, but encourage the student to vary the beginning and ending points within each type as soon as possible. I have said nothing about the melodic content of the phrases. It does not really matter what the student plays during a phrase—scalar passages, arpeggiations, motivic repetition, paraphrase of the scheme—as long as each phrase seems to end rather than stop. This has more to do with articulation than harmony, as long as the phrase ends on a chord tone or plausible “extension.” (So, for example, a phrase ending over C major harmony could end on any white note except F.) Regardless of melodic content, facility with phrase rhythm requires that the student be comfortable beginning and ending a phrase on any harmony and at any point in the metrical scheme. If these abilities are lacking, then these exercises will help instill them. In exercise 2, the student divides each 2-phrase into 1-phrases, switching between phrasetypes as in exercise 1. Figure 7–4A shows a series of divided, beginning-accented 2-phrases; figure 7–4B, end-accented; figure 7–4C, un-accented. The precise beginning and ending locations of the 1-phrases are prescribed. As in exercise 1, the student first grows comfortable with each type, then practices switching between the types at smaller intervals, ultimately switching with every phrase. Figure 7–4. Exercise 2: 1-phrases. 7–4A. Beginning-accented 2-phrases, w/ prescribed 1-phrases: All 1-phrases span beat 1 to beat 3 (exercise 2a).


198

7–4B. End-accented 2-phrases, w/ prescribed 1-phrases: All 1-phrases span beat 3 to beat 1 (exercise 2a).

7–4C. Un-accented 2-phrases, w/ prescribed 1-phrases: All 1-phrases span beat 2 to beat 4 (exercise 2a).

7–4D. 1/1/2 sentences (exercise 2b).

Finally, in exercise 2b, the student constructs four-measure “sentences,” featuring the grouping structure 1/1/2. This is shown in figure 7–4D with beginning-accented 2-phrases, but could also be done with the other types. This exercise also begins shifting the student’s attention to the four-bar level of the meter, since the sentence is four measures long.

The Four-Measure Level (Exercises 3, 4)

Exercise 3 introduces the undivided 4-phrase. First, the student must be able to perceive fourbar hypermeter with little effort. Again, a mixture of intuition, counting, and conducting will facilitate this; learning to play 4-phrases depends on (and improves) this ability. The teacher may wish to use the labels [4], [2], and [1] for downbeats of various strength; once learned, they make describing the phrases far easier. The concepts of beginning-, end-, and un-accented 4phrases should translate smoothly from the 2-phrase level. The only new phrase-type at this


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level is the double-accented 4-phrase, which begins and ends with a four-bar downbeat. Within each type, the student should experiment with prosody. For example, beginning-accented phrases can include [421], [42], [1421], and [142]. The student might discover this variety independently; if not, the teacher can provide prompts, such as, “Try making it end sooner,” or “Add a long anacrusis this time.” As in exercise 1, the student cycles among the four types, first switching between types at every chorus, then at progressively smaller intervals (described fully in figure 7–1). Figure 7–5 shows the beginning of a hypothetical improvisation in which the student switches types at every phrase. (Note that certain successions of types are impossible: a beginning-accented phrase cannot follow an end-accented or double-accented phrase, since the latter types end on the four-bar downbeat with which the beginning-accented phrase would have to begin.) In this exercise, there can be a tendency for the student to cram phrases very close together, with short rests in between. But beginning-, end-, and un-accented phrases can all be very short; remind the student to use short versions of these phrases in order to create breathing space. Figure 7–5. 4-phrases, switching types at every phrase: Beginning-, double-, end-, and un-accented (exercise 3b).

In exercise 4, the student attempts to divide 4-phrases asymmetrically. (Symmetrical division has already been tackled in exercise 1, at the 2-phrase level.) The student learns two


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patterns, short-long and long-short.91 Working with one or the other pattern, the student proceeds through exercise 3, using asymmetrically divided 4-phrases in place of undivided 4phrases. As an advanced exercise at this stage, the student can devise a phrase plan of twelve to twenty measures in length and employ it cyclically in continuous improvisation over a scheme. For example, the student might use the following twelve-measure plan: 1. a beginning-accented 4-phrase, divided short-long; 2. a pair of end-accented 2-phrases; 3. an un-accented 4-phrase, undivided. Figure 7–6 shows the first sixteen measures of a hypothetical realization of this plan. By the last line, the cycle has begun to repeat: the last line shows another beginning-accented 4-phrase, asymmetrically divided, the same phrase-type that began the exercise. The exercise would continue past this point cycling through the same plan. This allows the student to experience phrase-rhythm variety while maintaining close control, and forces the student to employ a given phrase-type at several different locations in the scheme (since the cycles of the plan do not line up with the metrical time-spans of the scheme). Figure 7–6. A twelve-measure phrase plan, repeated cyclically: Beginning-accented 4-phrase, divided short-long; pair of end-accented 2-phrases; un-accented 4-phrase.

According the method of the previous chapters, asymmetrically divided 4-phrases can result from two distinct means: the addition of a prefix or suffix to a longer segment; or the division into asymmetrical 2-phrases. This distinction is unnecessary in a pedagogical context. 91


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The Eight-Measure Level (Exercises 5, 6, 7)

The 2/2/4 sentence provides a good introduction to the eight-measure level (exercise 5). This structure often appears in the improvisations of skilled musicians. The student selects a combination of two 2-phrases and a 4-phrase and then employs the resulting eight-measure structure repeatedly throughout one or more choruses. By employing different phrase-types, a wide variety of structures are possible. This exercise starts to develop the taste of the student for certain phrase types over others, and increases awareness of eight-bar hypermeter. Figure 7–7 shows one possible sentence structure: an end-accented 2-phrase, an un-accented 2-phrase (forming an un-accented 4-phrase), and a beginning-accented 4-phrase. Figure 7–7. A sentence structure, to introduce the 8-phrase level (exercise 5).

Exercise 6 introduces phrase overlap. Overlap requires two phrases to be linked by a pivot note on a four-bar downbeat. The student learns of it in the context of four different eightmeasure phrase structures: as a link between a pair of undivided 4-phrases (4O4); as a link between a 4-phrase and a 2-phrase (requiring an additional 2-phrase thereafter to fill the eight measures: 4O2/2); as a link between a 2-phrase and a 4-phrase (requiring an additional 2phrase before: 2/2O4); and as a link between 2-phrases (requiring additional 2-phrases before and after: 2/2O2/2). Figure 7–8 shows the last case, 2/2O2/2. The crucial element is a clear pivot note. At this level, it is unnecessary to specify prosody of the constituent phrases. Attention to this aspect will only be a distraction. The ability to vary prosody comes from exercises devoted to lower levels.


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Figure 7–8. Phrase overlap, in 2/2O2/2 structure (exercise 6).

The last exercise at this level teaches combination (exercise 7). The student follows the same eight-bar patterns as in exercise 6 (phrase overlap), but this time, instead of a phrase overlap, the phrases on either side of a four-bar downbeat are smoothly blended. Attention must be paid that the student does not accidentally employ a pivot note through excessive attention to the hypermetrical downbeat; the impression of a single, continuous phrase can be heightened through continuity of motive or contour across this point. Figure 7–9 shows an example combined phrase, embedded in the 2/2+2/2 pattern. It is instructive to compare this figure with figure 7–8, especially the area around the four-bar downbeat. Figure 7–9. Phrase combination, in 2/2+2/2 structure (exercise 7). (Compare with figure 7–8.)

Exercise 8: Phrase-rhythm imitation

The first seven exercises establish a phrase-rhythm vocabulary. Each exercise focuses on phrasing at a different level—2-phrase, 4-phrase, or 8-phrase—but neglects other levels. For continued improvement, the student must continue practice at these levels. But with this vocabulary in place, the student can also tackle a more advanced task: phrase-rhythm imitation. Since the beginnings of jazz recording, students have learned and imitated the solos of performers they admire. Notated transcriptions aid this process but are not essential; a good ear is far more valuable than a good transcription. Typically, students focus on imitating harmonic


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or rhythmic vocabulary, specific “licks,” or rhythmic feel. The practice of imitation can extend to phrase rhythm as well. As in most sorts of practice, the goal is not for the student to quote consciously the work of others while performing; rather, through deliberate practice, aspects of the noteworthy performer’s style penetrate the student’s subconscious, and spontaneously come to the surface. To imitate a performance’s phrase rhythm, a student first determines the phrase rhythm, with or without the aid of a transcription. The prosodic notation is probably the most efficient way to notate phrase rhythm. It might also be plotted out on measured staff paper, with four or eight measures per line. The student then uses the phrase rhythm as a model for an improvised solo, following it as closely as possible while altering or ignoring the melodic content (exercise 8a). The “model” solo does not even have to be on the same scheme as the student’s improvisation, so long as the metrical structure is the same (exercise 8b). For example, figure 7– 10 shows the opening of Sonny Rollins’s solo on “Moritat,” side-by-side with the opening of a solo on “Rhythm changes” that employs the same phrase rhythm. Figure 7-10. Imitation of noteworthy solos (exercise 8). 7–10A. Rollins, “Moritat”: mm. 1-8. {32} -12

-42-

7–10B. A hypothetical solo employing the same phrase rhythm.

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The pedagogy of phrase rhythm is not intended to replace current pedagogical methods, but to complement them. The result will be students with much greater facility in this underappreciated aspect of jazz improvisation.

Analytical Extensions: Tactus-Shifting

The phrase-types can describe phrase rhythm at a wide range of tempos. It is not unusual for quarter-note tempos in jazz to exceed 300 bpm. At these speeds, 1-phrases are rare, and there are a greater number of 8-phrases and combined phrases, but the analytical system retains its power. At very slow tempos, especially when the tactus shifts from the quarter-note to the eighth-note, it is practical to shift the entire system to the half-note level: a “4-phrase” is one that lasts four half-notes rather than four measures. Figure 7–11 shows the opening of Clifford Brown’s solo on “I Don’t Stand a Ghost of a Chance,” a tactus-shifted ballad. As his solo begins, the entire ensemble switches to a “double-time feel”: the tactus shifts from the quarternote to the eighth-note. To eschew 32nd-notes and make the transcription easier to read, in figure 7–11A I notate the example with quarter-notes in place of eighth-notes: a thirty-twomeasure scheme becomes a sixty-four-measure scheme. Figure 7–11B shows the example without notating the shift, as it originally appears in Baker 1982. Figure 7–11. Tactus-shifting (Brown, “I Don’t Stand a Ghost of a Chance,” opening). {3} 7–11A. With notated tactus-shift.


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7–11B. Without notated tactus shift.

I Don’t Stand a Ghost Of A Chance Words by Bing Crosby and Ned Washington Music by Victor Young Copyright © 1932 by Chappell & Co. and Mills Music, Inc. Copyright Renewed International Copyright Secured All Rights Reserved

Figure 7–11A illustrates the usefulness of notating the tactus shift. Brown’s solo opens with four 2-phrases, the first of which are further divided into 1-phrases. If I had not re-notated the example to reflect the tactus shift, it would not be possible to show these as 1-phrases—they would be “1/2 phrases,” lasting only half of a measure. Recall Reicha’s comment, quoted in chapter 1, that metrically short phrases are best at slower tempos. A tactus-shift allows phrases that “really” last only half a measure to seem to fill an entire measure: they last four tactusbeats. The notation should reflect this.

Modal Jazz

In the foregoing analyses, I have focused on schemes that are metrically predictable to a deep level, twelve measures or more. In this section, I explore the possibilities for adapting my approach to schemes with shallower metrical hierarchies, as are typical of ‘60s jazz.92 I apply the

Many modal schemes actually follow the metrical norms of tonal jazz, being constructed from four-bar hypermeasures and larger units. In this regard, consider Miles Davis’ “Milestones” (a forty-measure tune whose form resembles “Witchcraft”), “Kind of Blue,” another Davis tune in thirty-two-bar AABA form, Herbie Hancock’s “Maiden Voyage,” McCoy Tyner’s “Four by Five,” and many others. (In “Four by Five,” only the scheme used during the variation choruses conforms to tonally normative four-bar hypermeter—the metrical scheme of the theme is more unusual.) Solos on these schemes can be analyzed using the orthodox 92


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theory to a test case: John Coltrane’s solo on a 1963 version of “My Favorite Things” (Rodgers), a tune that became Coltrane’s calling card.93 The scheme Coltrane follows is not metrically regular above the two-bar level. Tenor saxophonist John Coltrane (1926–1967) is of great importance to the history of modern jazz. He first came to prominence in the mid-‘50s as a member of Miles Davis’s band. Gary Giddins and Scott Deveaux summarize his career as follows: “His musical impact eventually equaled—some would argue, surpassed—that of Davis. Coltrane became the most intrepid explorer of modal jazz and a cultural-ethical leader of avant-garde jazz in the 1960s” (2009: 425). This recording provides a sample of Coltrane’s mature style. In Richard Rodgers’ original scheme, a sixteen-measure theme appears twice in E minor, then once in E major, before a final section introduces a new melody and modulates to a conclusion in the relative major, G. Coltrane’s realization is famously liberal in its treatment of this scheme. This performance, from the 1963 album Afro Blue Impressions, opens with an introduction and then Coltrane’s initial statement of the sixteen-measure theme in E minor. But after this initial statement, Coltrane almost completely abandons Rodgers’ scheme, playing a long solo over a repeated two-chord, two-measure “vamp”: | E-7 | F#-7 |. Then the sixteenmeasure theme returns, still in E minor, followed by a longer solo on the two-chord vamp | Emaj7 | F#-7 |, mirroring the original scheme’s motion to the parallel major. The solos in this performance, from Coltrane and other members of the ensemble, are of unpredictable, inconsistent length. Between solos, the sixteen-measure theme functions like a ritornello, reuniting the ensemble. To indicate to the ensemble that the solo is over, the soloist simply begins to play the sixteen-measure theme on the downbeat of the two-measure harmonic scheme. Since the first few measures of this melody sound correct over the harmonies of the vamp, the ensemble has two measures to respond to the soloist. By the time the theme has proceeded to a point where the harmonies must change, requiring the coordination of the rhythm section, the ensemble is aware that the theme has returned and ready to follow along. The open format of these solos is typical of modal jazz, a style that became widespread in the 1960s, and of which Coltrane’s “My Favorite Things” is a canonical example. It poses a approach outlined in the previous chapters, which assumes the existence of four- and eight-bar hypermeter. 93 The complete transcription appears on page 259.


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challenge to my analytical method, which depends on the recurrence of large metrical units. I conclude this chapter with an phrase-rhythm analysis of Coltrane’s first solo, and some speculations about the general applicability of the method to modal jazz. Coltrane’s first solo is exactly sixty-four measures long. At first, this led me to suspect he was following a sixteen- or thirty-two-bar scheme, despite the outward appearance of only a twomeasure vamp. But his second solo is 136 measures long, which is divisible by eight only, not sixteen. Other solos are similarly irregular. Therefore, I believe the sixty-four-measure length of the first solo is coincidental, and does not stem from some hidden higher-level scheme. But even though there is no metrical scheme above the two-measure level, 4-phrases and 8-phrases are ubiquitous. (Below, I explain how they emerge.) Melodic units larger than eight measures also arise, a product of motivic development and reference. I have divided the solo into four sixteen-measure sections, lettered A through D. Figure 7– 12 shows the first section, which contains two 8-phrases. Each 8-phrase is divided into beginning-accented 4-phrases. The first three 4-phrases employ neighbor motion around B. In the second 4-phrase (mm. 4–8), Coltrane introduces slight syncopation (m. 5), not enough to divide the phrase further. In the third 4-phrase (8–12), the slight rhythmic variation develops into the 1-phrase rhyme in measures 8 to 10. The beginning of the next 2-phrase in measure 10 also rhymes with the beginning in measure 8, a rhyme at the two-measure level that unifies the 4-phrase. In the final 4-phrase of the section (mm. 12–14), Coltrane abandons the neighbornote motive, although the phrase, like those before it, ends on the note B3. In other analyses, the presence of four- and eight-bar hypermeasures in the scheme was a requirement for the identification of 4-phrases and 8-phrases. Since the scheme here does not operate above the two-measure level, these phrase-types must be understood differently. Coltrane creates them through motive, rhyme, and relative IOI, in the same way that Parker, Adderley, and Rollins created 6- and 8-phrases in the twelve-bar blues. In figure 7–12, the first two 4-phrases of Coltrane’s solo have rhyming endings, creating an eight-bar unit. The next two 4-phrases form an 8-phrase through the short IOI between them, relatively long rest that follows them, and similar endings on the pitch B. As in classical music, Coltrane’s grouping structure generates hypermeter: a series of 4-phrases creates a four-bar level of the meter, which can just as easily be destroyed later on through contradictory phrasing. In other words, the 4phrase level of phrase rhythm becomes more or less synonymous with the four-bar level of the


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meter (granting the possibility of end-accentuation and other slight misalignments). There is no schematic four-bar level to overrule Coltrane, should he wish to play a six-bar phrase. On the other hand, he cannot employ phrase rhythm that is dissonant with the four-bar metrical level he has created, without destroying that level in the process. Coltrane explores these possibilities later in the solo. Figure 7–12. Coltrane, “My Favorite Things”: Section A (mm. 1–16).94 {6}

In the next sixteen-measure section, shown in figure 7–13, Coltrane again employs a pair of 8-phrases, but begins to weaken the boundaries between them with shorter IOI and crossphrase motivic connections. The overall phrase rhythm of the section is remarkably similar to section A: two undivided 4-phrases, and a 4-phrase divided 1/1/2, which extends into a long, undivided 4-phrase. But section B also has several points of ambiguity. First, there is the rhythmic motive that links measures 24, 25, and 26, overlapping an 8-phrase boundary (shown with an arrow). I have analyzed the first instance of this motive as a suffix to the 4-phrase in measures 20 to 24, suggesting a 4-phrase boundary just after beat 24.3. (Even though the schematic meter does not contain four-bar downbeats, Coltrane’s use of five consecutive 494



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phrases in the preceding music establishes a four-bar level of the meter, hence the expectation for a 4-phrase boundary leading into beat 25.1.) But rhyme and motive suggest treating the three notes in measure 24 as part of the 4-phrase that follows. This suggests a plausible alternative analysis of measure 24, as a prefix to the following 4-phrase, with the preceding 8phrase coming to an end in measure 23. Figure 7–13. Coltrane, “My Favorite Things”: Section B (mm. 17–32). {6}

The ambiguity of measure 24 weakens the division between 8-phrases. Four measures later, the combined phrase across beat 29.1 marks the first occasion when Coltrane does not articulate a four-bar level with phrase division. Another motivic connection weakens the next 8phrase boundary, in measure 32. The motive, a turn followed by a descent in skips, is indicated with arrows. Figure 7–14 shows how the solo continues. Though the motivic connection cuts across an 8-phrase boundary, I do not believe there is a plausible alternative analysis. The 8phrase ending in measure 31 is quite strong, with echoes of the ending of section A (fig. 7–12, m. 15) in the long B3. The motivic connection does not result in ambiguous phrase rhythm, as it did in measure 24.


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Section C opens with three parallel 2-phrases, repeating the sixteenth-note motive that concluded section B (fig. 7–14). The dotted-quarter on beat 33.1, a relatively long note, reinforces the four-bar downbeat. The fifth phrase of the section, begun in measure 41, continues beyond figure 7–14. It opens on a pivot note on beat, whose longer rhythmic value reinforces the four-bar level. But the phrase overlap weakens the eight-bar level. After this point, Coltrane begins to weaken the four-bar level. Figure 7–14. Coltrane, “My Favorite Things”: Section C (mm. 32–44). {6}

Starting at the phrase overlap in measure 41, the phrase continues past another four-bar downbeat without pausing, beat 45.1 (see fig. 7–15). The quarter-note on this beat might be taken to weakly accent this possible four-bar downbeat, but it echoes the quarter-note on beat 43.1, which only articulated the two-measure level. There is no reason to treat the note on beat 45.1 as more significant. Therefore, by measure 46, the four-bar level has been weakened through lack of melodic reinforcement. In the following measures, a competing four-bar level emerges, displaced by two measures from the original. (Any competing four-bar level could only be displaced by two measures, since it must remain congruent with the two-bar level of the scheme.)


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Figure 7–15. Coltrane, “My Favorite Things”: End of C, beg. of D (mm. 45–56). {6}

The 2-phrases of measures 47 to 56 are obvious. More difficult, however, is the question of whether and how a higher-level phrase structure emerges. Such a structure depends on an accented two-bar downbeat that stands out from other two-bar downbeats, as a plausible fourbar downbeat. After a period of ambiguity, beat 47.1 is the first such downbeat. Starting on this beat, Coltrane uses slower rhythmic values and begins a new gesture: a gradual ascent by one step per measure. These changes mark beat 47.1 as the first beat of a new four-bar level. Since this four-bar downbeat arrives unexpectedly, I have shown the corresponding 4-phrases with light brackets. Nothing in measures 49 to 52 contradicts this level. But nothing in measure 51 actively reinforces this level either, leaving it vulnerable to reassessment. In measure 53, a seventh repetition of the same rhythmic motive begins on the tonic pitch E, at a louder dynamic level than before. Coltrane also ties the E on beat 53.3 into the following measure (an echo of measure 47). These factors establish beat 53.1 as a four-bar downbeat, in contradiction with the four-bar level that began on beat 47.1. It may seem impossible for events that take place after beat 53.1 to establish that beat as a four-bar downbeat. But remember, since there is no schematic four-bar level, it is Coltrane’s phrasing alone that can establish one. Factors that establish the significance of any particular 2-phrase also establish the significance of the relevant two-bar downbeat. Since beat 53.1 is already a two-bar downbeat (because of the scheme), the greater salience of the 2-phrase that begins in measure 53 retroactively establishes beat 53.1 as a possible four-bar downbeat. As shown in figure 7–16, this four-bar level receives reinforcement in measure 57, when Coltrane reaches


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the peak of a larger gesture, B4, and begins a stepwise descent. Like the ascent in measures 47 to 50, this descent is broken into 1-phrases. The last of these in measure 60 combines with the final 4-phrase of the solo. In its length and metrical location, the final phrase of the solo echoes the phrases in measures 12 to 15 and 27 to 31 (figs. 7–12 and 7–13), each of which concluded a sixteen-measure section. Figure 7–16. Coltrane, “My Favorite Things”: End of D (mm. 57–64). {6}

The lack of a schematic four-bar level in this performance limits the possibilities for dissonance between grouping structure and schematic meter. Instead, the schematic meter presents Coltrane with an unbroken flow of two-bar downbeats. On this flow, he can superimpose a 4-phrase and 8-phrase level through IOI, rhyme, motive, and other factors. As in classical music, a series of 4-phrases generates a corresponding four-measure hypermetrical level. To put it another way: whenever Coltrane accents a particular two-bar downbeat, through a proximate grouping boundary, a new motive, a louder dynamic, or other factors, it stands out as a possible four-bar downbeat. If it receives confirmation four measures later, a four-bar level emerges in the metrical hierarchy. Thus, while this scheme takes away the possibility for extreme phrase-rhythm dissonance, it gives the performer the ability to create hypermetrical levels, so long as they align with the lower levels present in the scheme. The performer can also employ hypermetrical shifts and ambiguity. Viewed in this way, the appearance of 4-phrases and 8-phrases in this performance is hardly anomalous, or a vestige of Coltrane’s earlier career improvising over metrically conventional schemes. Rather, it is the near-inevitable result of attempting to create groups longer than two measures. Hypermeasures of odd length (e.g., three or five measures) would be impossible to sustain against the two-measure vamp. Because of their consonance with the two-


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bar level of the schematic meter, 4-phrases emerge almost on their own when playing on such a scheme. 8-phrases result from the same process, carried one level further. Dissonance at the 4-phrase and four-measure level emerges not through conflict between meter and grouping, but through conflict between competing versions of this level. Coltrane explores this possibility in measure 47, with the emergence of a new four-measure level. Based only on the present analysis, metrical reinterpretation—the erasure and re-establishment of hypermetrical levels—seems likely to be one of the more interesting aspects of phrase rhythm in this style. I leave it to later studies to examine phrase rhythm in modal jazz more thoroughly. This example suggests that such an undertaking could be quite fruitful.

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Index of Recordings and Transcriptions Modern re-releases are given when the originals may be hard to locate. Adderley, Julian “Cannonball” (under Miles Davis). 1959. Kind of Blue. Columbia CL 1355. {1} “Freddie Freeloader,” by Miles Davis. In Price 1995. Brown, Clifford. 1954. Clifford Brown and Max Roach. EmArcy MG 36036. Also on Clifford Brown’s Finest Hour. Verve 314 543 602–2. {2} “Joy Spring,” by Clifford Brown. In Baker 1982. ——— and Max Roach. 1954. Brown and Roach Incorporated. EmarCy MC 36008. {3} “Ghost of a Chance,” by Victor Young. In Baker 1982. ———. 1956. Clifford Brown and Max Roach at Basin Street. EmArcy MG 36070. {4} “I’ll Remember April,” by Gene de Paul. In Baker 1982. ——— (under Sonny Rollins). 1956. Sonny Rollins Plus 4. Prestige PRLP 7038. {5} “Valse Hot,” by Sonny Rollins. In Baker 1982. Coltrane, John. 1963. Afro Blue Impressions. Pablo Live 2620–101. {6} “My Favorite Things,” by Richard Rodgers. In Schiff 2000. Davis, Miles. 1954. Bags’ Groove. Prestige PRLP 7109. {7} “Oleo,” by Sonny Rollins. Author’s transcription. Evans, Bill. 1958. Everybody Digs Bill Evans. Riverside RLP 12–291. {8} “Night and Day,” by Cole Porter. Author’s transcription. ————. 1959. Portrait in Jazz. Riverside RLP 12–315. {9} “Someday My Prince Will Come,” by Frank Churchill. Author’s transcription. {10} “Witchcraft,” by Cy Coleman. In Dobbins. ———. 1961. Explorations. Riverside RLP 351. {11} “How Deep Is the Ocean?” by Irving Berlin. In Dobbins. {12} “Nardis,” by Miles Davis and Bill Evans. In Dobbins. ———. 1961. Sunday at the Village Vanguard. Riverside RLP 376. {13} “Solar,” by Miles Davis. In Dobbins. ———. 1961. Waltz for Debby. Riverside RLP 399. {14} “My Romance,” by Richard Rodgers. In Smith 1983. ———. 1963. Bill Evans Trio At Shelly’s Manne-Hole. Fantasy OJCCD 263–2. {15} “All the Things You Are,” by Jerome Kern. Author’s transcription.

Index of Recordings and Transcriptions

Getz, Stan. Stan Getz and the Oscar Peterson Trio. Verve MGV 8251. {16} “Pennies From Heaven,” by Arthur Johnston. Author’s transcription. Hersch, Fred. 2001. Songs Without Words. Nonesuch 79612–2. {17} “Con Alma,” by Dizzy Gillespie. Parker, Charlie. 1946. Charlie Parker on Dial, Vol. 1. Spotlite (E) SPJ 101. {18} “Moose the Mooche,” by Charlie Parker. In Aebersold 1978. {19} “Ornithology,” by Charlie Parker. In Aebersold 1978. {20} “Yardbird Suite,” by Charlie Parker. In Aebersold 1978. ———. 1947. Charlie Parker on Dial, Vol. 4. Spotlite (E) SPJ 104. {21} “Dewey Square,” by Charlie Parker. In Aebersold 1978. ——— 1947. Alternate Masters, Vol. 1. Dial LP 904. {22} “Scrapple from the Apple,” by Charlie Parker. In Aebersold 1978. {18} through {22} also appear on The Legendary Dial Masters, vols. 1–2. Stash Records ST-CD-23 and ST-CD-25. ———. 1950?. Liveology (2005 reissue). Re/Empire Musicwerks 545 450 663–2 Re. {23} “Ornithology,” by Charlie Parker. In Owens 1974. ———. 1952. Now’s the Time. Verve MGV 8005. {24} “Chi Chi,” by Charlie Parker. In Aebersold 1978. {25} “Cosmic Rays,” by Charlie Parker. In Aebersold 1978. {26} “Kim (No. 2),” by Charlie Parker. In Aebersold 1978. {27} “Now’s the Time,” by Charlie Parker. In Aebersold 1978. Powell, Bud. The Amazing Bud Powell, Vol. 1. Blue Note BLP 1503. {28} “Wail,” by Bud Powell. Author’s transcription. Rollins, Sonny (under Miles Davis). 1954. Bags’ Groove. Prestige PRLP 7109. {29} “Airegin,” by Sonny Rollins. In Mankowski 2008. ———. 1956. Tenor Madness. Prestive PRLP 7047. {30} “Tenor Madness,” by Sonny Rollins. In Baker 1980B. ———. 1956. Saxophone Colossus. Prestige PRLP 7079. {31} “Blue Seven,” by Sonny Rollins. In Mankowski 2008. {32} “Moritat,” by Kurt Weill. Author’s transcription. {33} “St. Thomas,” by Sonny Rollins. In Mankowski 2008. ———. 1956. Sonny Rollins Plus 4. Prestige PRLP 7038. {34} “Valse Hot,” by Sonny Rollins. In Mankowski 2008.

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Rhythm in Jazz

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