It is not surprising that many discussions of the eighteenth- and nineteenth-century German Lied have centered on harmony and tonality; given its modest extent and relative textural simplicity, the Lied is eminently suitable for the exploration and explication of complex harmonic devices and unusual tonal techniques.1 The opportunity to connect harmony and tonality to text expression lends an additional attraction to the pitch-based analysis of Lieder. Many a classroom has been enlivened by discussions of a composer’s imaginative deployment of particular harmonic and tonal techniques to reflect or underline aspects of the given poetic text.
Numerous recent writings about the Lied have revealed that composers brought various rhythmic and metric features into play as well for the purposes of text expression.2 In the present chapter, I provide examples of text-expressive durational devices from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, beginning with local rhythmic details and progressing toward larger-scale durational structure. Throughout this chapter, all translations are my own.
Durational Details
We can understand some aspects of the expressive function of duration in Lieder by considering how it functions in speech. Pauses between words contribute significantly to expressive speech. They can indicate agitation or passion by lending an utterance a breathless quality, or they can suggest fatigue, reluctance or hesitation – that is, some physical or emotional obstacle in verbal fluency. An utterance unbroken by pauses, on the other hand, is likely to strike listeners as confident, controlled, and serene. The pacing of an utterance, whether or not it is punctuated by pauses, also contributes to its expressive quality. A generally languid pace creates a calm mood, whereas a quick pace suggests excitement or impatience. A consistent pace creates a sense of emotional equilibrium; a sudden change of pace, however, be it an acceleration or a deceleration, denotes an influx of emotion – a surge of excitement, or a moment of introspection. A surprising change of pace in speech might also have a humorous effect. Frequent changes of pace within an extended utterance are likely to create a sense of instability and volatility.
Composers mobilize all of these rhythmic features of speech within their songs, and use them to express their interpretation of the meaning and the emotional content of a poem. The piano part can participate in such rhythmic expression. Robert Schumann’s Lieder, for instance, contain passages in which an established accompaniment pattern is abruptly accelerated by the use of tuplets. In the final song of his Op. 90 (“Requiem”), Schumann slows the micropulse of his accompaniment pattern from the predominant sixteenth notes to triplet eighths at m. 31 (“Seid Fürsprecher …”), returns to sixteenth notes at m. 35 (with a brief foreshadowing of this return during the piano interlude at m. 33), then increases the pace to quintuplet sixteenths at m. 41 (Example 7.1a). The increase in speed suggests the mounting ecstasy of the soul as it ascends into Heaven.3 Josephine Lang (1815–80) uses a change of pace in the piano part in a more comical manner at the end of her early song “Der Schmetterling.” In the final measures (Example 7.1b), the fluttering triplet-eighths that have dominated the song unexpectedly yield to pairs of normal eighths. This gesture, which always elicits a chuckle from the audience, contributes subtly to the musical reflection of the unpredictable flight pattern of members of the order Lepidoptera.
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7.1a R. Schumann, “Requiem,” Op. 90, No. 7, mm. 39–42
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7.1b Lang, “Schmetterling,” Op. 8, No. 1, ending
It is in the vocal lines of Lieder, however, that the expressive function of small-scale rhythmic phenomena can most clearly be demonstrated. Just as pauses and changes of pace in speech express the emotions behind an utterance, changes of duration and pacing in the vocal rhythm of a song – in other words, the panoply of devices included in the declamation of a song text – have a profound expressive effect.4 Pioneers of the Lied were already aware of the expressive potential of declamatory rhythm. Carl Zelter’s strophic setting of Goethe’s “Mitternacht” (1818), whose vocal line the poet greatly admired for its “variety of movement, of pauses, and intake of breath,” contains excellent examples.5 With rhythms that change from strophe to strophe, Zelter responds to rhythmic details of the poetry as well as to aspects of its meaning. In mm. 6–7 (Example 7.2a), a rest followed by sixteenth notes sets off the parenthetical “nicht eben gerne” (not at all gladly) from the preceding elongated words “ging ich” (I walked), and in m. 8 the shortening of the durations at Goethe’s charming repetition of the adjective “small” vividly suggests the littleness of the boy who is walking with trepidation near a cemetery by night. In mm. 14–15 (Example 7.2b), the melismatic thirty-second notes coinciding with the poet’s mention of the stars – these are the only such notes in the song – are another effective rhythmic gesture; the many short notes that fill a long duration form an audible analogy to the visual image of innumerable pinpricks of light within a large expanse.
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7.2a Zelter, “Um Mitternacht,” mm. 4–8, vocal line
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7.2b “Um Mitternacht,” mm. 13–15, vocal line
Equally expressive small rhythmic details exist in the vocal lines of later generations of Lied composers. Even the small elongation resulting from the placement of a dot can have an expressive impact. In Josephine Lang’s song “Die Schwalben” (Example 7.3), one would expect the dot placement in the second half of m. 7 to match that of the first half, both because we expect an established pattern to be repeated without change, and because durational accents commonly occur on strong beats. Lang, instead, places the dot on the second eighth note of the second group of three eighths, thereby moving the durational accent to an unexpected location. This rhythmic surprise contributes to the evocation of the erratic flight of swallows.
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7.3 Lang, “Die Schwalben,” Op. 10, No. 2, mm. 4–8, vocal line
Example 7.4 shows three vocal lines in which the surprising placement of rests has a humorous effect. In Haydn’s setting of Lessing’s “Lob der Faulheit” (“Praise of Sloth”), the rests suggest a torpor so intense that it inhibits speech, or an utterance interrupted by yawns. Robert Schumann’s use of rests in the vocal line of “Aufträge” conjures up a more specific (and more comical) image of the protagonist than does de la Motte Fouqué’s poem on its own; the rhythm of this line makes us imagine a person who is somewhat out of shape and who huffs and puffs as he attempts to catch up to a swiftly moving brook or dove to press upon it his messages to his beloved. In “Storchenbotschaft,” Wolf dramatizes the shepherd’s horrified realization that he is about to become the father of twins by interrupting his question to his avian guests with unexpected hesitations. Had Wolf stayed with the even eighth notes with which the vocal rhythm of the song begins, the humorous effect would have been lacking.
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7.4a Haydn, “Lob der Faulheit,” mm. 15–24, vocal line
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7.4b R. Schumann, “Aufträge,” Op. 77, No. 5, mm. 1–4, vocal line
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7.4c Wolf, “Storchenbotschaft,” m. 35
In “Suleika” (1836), Fanny Hensel delivers the same melody in a rest-ridden and “rest-less” manner. In the two initial strophes, every fourth bar includes an eighth-note rest (Example 7.5a); the breathless, agitated effect that these rests produce is appropriate for the first portion of the poem, which is dominated by Suleika’s longing for her distant beloved. In the final strophe (Example 7.5b), Hensel smoothes out the vocal line by eliminating the rests; the “rest-less” line sounds much more restful, calm, and confident – which is appropriate, since the latter portion of the poem refers hopefully to an impending reunion.
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7.5a Hensel, “Suleika” (1836 setting), mm. 3–8, vocal line
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7.5b “Suleika,” mm. 30–35, vocal line
I conclude my discussion of small-scale rhythmic expression with an example of a declamatory detail from Hugo Wolf’s famous miniature, “Das verlassene Mägdlein.” Mörike’s poem begins with the following lines:
The declamation at the beginning of Hugo Wolf’s setting plods along in relatively slow note values, matching the listless, lethargic state of the maiden; the occasional single sixteenth notes do not appreciably affect the overall slowness of the declamation. Had he set the second line exactly as Mörike wrote it, Wolf would have run into a problem at the two adjacent unstressed syllables, “-lein ver-”: there would have been no option but to write two quick notes in a row (see Example 7.6a) – a minute, yet significant disruption of the prevailing slow declamatory pace, and therefore of the mood of the opening. Wolf’s solution to this problem was to alter Mörike’s word “verschwinden” (disappear) to the virtually synonymous “schwinden” (fade); the elimination of the second of the adjacent weak syllables enabled him to avoid the rhythmic disruption (Example 7.6b).6
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7.6a Wolf, “Das verlassene Mägdlein,” mm. 5–8, vocal line, with Mörike’s original text
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7.6b The same passage with Wolf’s altered text
Larger-Scale Text-Expressive Durational Devices and Techniques
The preceding example shows a composer who was normally respectful of the poet’s art tampering with the semantic and rhythmic content of a poem for the sake of faithfulness to its emotional content. If we investigate declamatory rhythm from a larger-scale standpoint, we discover that across wider expanses of vocal lines, too, Lied composers are often willing to distort the rhythm of a poem in order to do justice to its emotional content. In the vocal lines of a number of the songs discussed earlier, the overall rhythm does not move at the steady pace that the poetic rhythm would suggest; instead, the vocal rhythm is irregular and unpredictable, such that relatively long durations alternate with spurts of quick motion. In each case, these irregularities are not haphazard, but have an expressive purpose.
The poem of Schumann’s “Aufträge,” for instance, would suggest an uninterrupted flow until the period at the end of the fourth line; Example 7.7 shows a translation of the rhythm of the poem into the expected even note values. Schumann, however, not only inserts the aforementioned rests (at the end of each poetic line), but also elongates syllables in an unpredictable manner (compare Example 7.4b). For example, he stretches the initial stressed syllables of the words “wenig,” “Welle,” and “Liebste,” and spaces all of the syllables of the third line farther apart than those of earlier lines. All of his rhythmic decisions make sense in relation to various aspects of the poem. The pauses at the ends of the first and second lines correspond to the punctuation. The elongations in the second line express the idea of waiting (“warten”). Those in the third and fourth lines serve to emphasize the importance of the message that is to be conveyed, and the intensity of the protagonist’s feelings for the “Liebste,” respectively.
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7.7 R. Schumann, “Aufträge,” opening, expected vocal rhythm
Similar observations can be made about Hensel’s “Suleika” of 1836. Again, the poem suggests a steady pace, without pauses. In 1825, Hensel composed a setting of the poem in which the declamation adhered to this steady pace (Example 7.8); in this example, the even spacing of the asterisks (which denote stressed and strongly stressed syllables), demonstrates the steadiness of the pace.7 In the new vocal rhythm that Hensel created for her setting of the same poem in 1836 (refer to Example 7.5), she alternated sustained and quick notes, such that stressed syllables were unevenly spaced and some poetic feet were compressed. The later song thereby gained a restless, agitated quality that the earlier setting did not possess, and that more successfully matched the mood of the poem, which deals mainly with unfulfilled longing and the suffering caused by separation.8
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7.8 Hensel, “Suleika,” beginning of 1825 setting, vocal line
Changes in declamatory rhythm between sections often contribute to text expression in Lieder. When a poem alternates between two speakers while remaining perfectly regular in rhythm, a composer may render these speakers’ sections distinct from each other by using different declamatory schemata (to use Yonatan Malin’s terminology), a contrast between regularity and irregularity, or other contrasting devices.9 Wolf’s “Herr, was trägt der Boden hier” (from the Spanisches Liederbuch) consists of a dialogue between a human and Christ; the former interlocutor asks questions, and Christ answers. As is clear from the rising pitch level (compare the first and third questions – Examples 7.9a and 7.9c) and the addition of the designation “schmerzlich” (painfully) at the second question (Example 7.9b), Wolf interprets the questions as becoming increasingly agonized, with Christ’s answers remaining calm and comforting throughout. Wolf uses declamatory rhythm in addition to the aforementioned devices to distinguish the two interlocutors.
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7.9a Wolf, “Herr, was trägt der Boden hier,” mm. 3–6, vocal line
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7.9b “Herr, was trägt der Boden hier,” mm. 11–14, vocal line
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7.9c “Herr, was trägt der Boden hier,” mm. 19–22, vocal line
The poem is perfectly regular in rhythm (trochaic tetrameter, with pauses at the ends of lines). Wolf adheres to this declamatory regularity in all of Christ’s speeches; the trochaic tetrameter of the poem and the pauses at line ends are perfectly audible in Wolf’s vocal rhythm in these sections. The first of the human questions (Example 7.9a) also begins in a regular fashion, and pauses at line ends are present – but the final word of the question, “bitterlich” (bitterly), is accelerated; we expect the same rhythm as that used at the end of the first line (m. 4), but Wolf presents a diminution of this rhythm, such that the second line ends slightly earlier than expected. In the second and third questions (Examples 7.9b and 7.9c), Wolf takes the acceleration much farther, replacing many of the slow note values that predominate in the earlier question and in Christ’s answers with eighth notes. He also injects a substantial amount of irregularity in the form of fluctuations between fast and slow note values (see mm. 11–13 and 20–21), and some surprising syncopations (see mm. 13, 20, and 21). The expected pauses between lines, still present in the first question, are minimized in the second question (a mere eighth rest separates the two lines – see mm. 12–13) and are completely eliminated in the third question (see m. 21). Thus, across this remarkable Lied, declamation contributes not only to the characterization of the two interlocutors, but also to the representation of the gradually changing emotional state of the human speaker.
In his early song “Ferne,” Felix Mendelssohn constructs a large-scale, expressive process that includes “bad” declamation, that is, accentuation of an unstressed syllable. The first two stanzas, which deal with the absence of the beloved person, end with the refrain “Da wo du weilst” (where you tarry). In the third stanza, which is about the homecoming of the beloved, the poet changes the refrain to “Wenn du heimkehrst” (when you return home). As a comparison of Examples 7.10a and 7.10b reveals, the stress patterns of the refrains differ – “stressed-unstressed-unstressed-stressed” and “stressed-unstressed-stressed-unstressed,” respectively. The melodies to which Mendelssohn sets the refrains begin with a rhythm that works well for the “stressed-unstressed” succession that initiates both refrains. The third and fourth syllables of the two refrains, however, have opposite stress patterns. Mendelssohn’s refrain rhythm, which fits “Da, wo du weilst” like a glove, clashes violently with the normal pronunciation of the word “heimkehrst” in the final refrain (which should be “heimkehrst,” not “heimkehrst”).
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7.10a Mendelssohn, “Ferne,” Op. 9, No. 9, mm. 3–4, vocal line
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7.10b “Ferne,” mm. 27–28, vocal line
The end of the song (Example 7.10c) clarifies the expressive purpose of the unorthodox declamation. Mendelssohn states the refrain “wenn du heimkehrst” twice more to conclude the song. In the first of these statements, he uses the same anomalous declamation that occurred earlier in the song. He then provides a new melody and rhythm for the final reiteration; he elongates the second syllable of the refrain (“du”), such that it fills up a measure and such that the syllable “heim-” is pushed forward into the next and final measure. Thus, this stressed syllable, after being uncomfortably perched on a weak fourth beat, is brought home to a downbeat at the end of the song. With this moving resolution of his declamatory dissonance, Mendelssohn turns an apparent flaw into an expressive virtue.
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7.10c “Ferne,” mm. 33–36, vocal line
The next example, besides demonstrating text-expressive declamation, also contains another durational device that usually reaches beyond the momentary, namely, metric dissonance.10 When setting poems that exhibit two levels of stress (there are many such poems), composers normally place the strongest stresses on downbeats. Example 7.11a, however, shows an excerpt from Robert Schumann’s Songbook for Young People, Op. 79, in which the strongest stresses (shown by double asterisks) are, in several adjacent measures, placed on a weaker beat. The resulting effect of displacement of the metric duple layer is reinforced by various musical accents – registral accents in mm. 11–15, durational accents in mm. 13–16, and dynamic accents in mm. 11–12.
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7.11a R. Schumann, “Schlaraffenland,” Op. 79, No. 6, mm. 11–16
The first six measures of the same song (Example 7.11b) illustrate another type of conflict against the notated duple meter: the dynamic and durational accents, which coincide with the beginnings of a repeated melodic idea, create a three-quarter-note layer that is much more clearly audible than the notated meter.11 Why would Schumann include so much metric conflict in this apparently simple and jolly song? Jon Finson has suggested that Schumann’s inclusion in Op. 79 of numerous poems by the passionate republican Hoffmann von Fallersleben constitutes a political statement on the composer’s part. One could go even further by considering how Schumann might have interpreted the content of this particular poem in the light of contemporaneous events in Germany. It describes in great detail a Utopia that is, however, inaccessible (the final stanza states, “keiner kam hinein” – nobody was able to enter!). Schumann might have connected this poem to the failed revolution of 1848; there had been much hope that the repressive monarchic systems of Germany could be replaced by a republic, but this hope had been dashed by the time Schumann was working on his Op. 79 in 1849. The metric conflicts in this song could be Schumann’s admittedly cagey way of alluding to the political tensions of his time.
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7.11b “Schlaraffenland,” mm. 1–6, vocal line
Both types of metric conflict described above – the association of a metric layer with a displaced version of that same layer (displacement dissonance), or the association of a metric layer with an incongruent, conflicting layer (grouping dissonance) – are common text-expressive devices in Lieder. Low-level (that is, relatively quickly moving) grouping dissonances, usually of the type that I label G3/2 (where duple and triple divisions of the same timespan coexist), often occur in settings of poems that describe the minuscule motions of natural phenomena. In Hensel’s unpublished song “Geheimniß” (Example 7.12a), the conflict created in the piano part by duple sixteenth notes grouped into threes by a complete neighbor-note pattern conjures up the rustling of leaves in the forest.12 In Clara Schumann’s “Geheimes Flüstern” (Example 7.12b), the persistent dissonance between the duple and triple grouping of the steady sixteenth notes similarly alludes to the “secret whispering” in the forest. In Wolf’s “Um Mitternacht” and “Nachtzauber” (Examples 7.12c and 7.12d), the grouping dissonances beautifully evoke the subtle sounds of the night; the rippling of wellsprings, mentioned in both poems, was likely the specific inspiration for the dissonances. In these songs, the metric layers are clearly announced by the vocal lines (and in “Nachtzauber,” also by the bass); the “antimetrical” layers – the duple grouping of the eighth-note pulse in the former song, and the triple organization of the metric four-sixteenth groups in the latter – are created by pitch repetition.13
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7.12a Hensel, “Geheimniß,” mm. 1–4
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7.12b C. Schumann, “Geheimes Flüstern,” Op. 23, No. 3, mm. 1–13
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7.12c Wolf, “Um Mitternacht,” mm. 1–3
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7.12d Wolf, “Nachtzauber,” mm. 1–2
In the piano part of “Um Mitternacht,” low-level displacement dissonance plays a role as well; one might expect the C♯ octaves in the left hand to appear on the downbeat and on alternate eighth pulses thereafter – but Wolf brings in this octave an eighth pulse later, so that in each left-hand pair, the second eighth note rather than the first carries a density accent and a registral accent. The opening of “Nachtzauber” exhibits a larger-scale displacement: the longest notes (durational accents) in the left hand occur not on downbeats, where they would reinforce the notated meter, but on third beats. In both songs, then, displacement adds its mite to the evocation of the numerous minute, uncoordinated sounds that one hears outdoors at night.
Displacement dissonance can, of course, be used separately for expressive effect. In the first song of Schumann’s Justinus Kerner cycle, Op. 35 (Example 7.13), persistent low-level displacement dissonance contributes to the representation of the turmoil of a storm. On this surface-level displacement, Schumann superimposes a larger one: the sforzandos at the ends of even-numbered measures create a layer that conflicts strongly with the layer of that duration determined by the notated two-measure groups. This dissonance may be intended to suggest sudden gusts of wind projecting above the general roar of the storm. Both the small- and the larger-scale displacements likely refer not only to the natural storm, but also to the storms of passion that rage indoors.14
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7.13 R. Schumann, “Lust der Sturmnacht,” Op. 35, No. 1, mm. 1–9
My final examples of text-expressive metric dissonance come from a song by Franz Schubert, who was extraordinarily adept at constructing expressive metric conflicts. The piano part of “Der blinde Knabe” (Example 7.14a) is filled with subtle displacement dissonance. In numerous four-sixteenth-note groups, the lowest notes in the left hand and the highest in the right hand (i.e., the registral accents) appear not on the first, but on the second sixteenth. Furthermore, the low-pitched staccato taps in the left hand frequently appear on third beats rather than on downbeats, resulting in a higher-level displacement.15 Example 7.14b shows a hypothetical piano part without these displacements; how bland and uninteresting it is in comparison with Schubert’s version! What might the displacement dissonances mean in relation to the poem? Surely they refer in some way to the blind boy’s condition – but the displacement should not be interpreted as standing for disability. The protagonist, though referring to himself as “a poor, blind boy,” does not consider himself pitiable, and is happy in spite of his lack of sight. The subtle displacement in this song could better be understood merely as an acknowledgment of the boy’s non-alignment with the norm – of his different abilities and spiritual qualities.16
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7.14a Schubert, “Der blinde Knabe,” mm. 1–2
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7.14b “Der blinde Knabe,” recomposition of mm. 1–2
A passage associated with a strong assertion of the boy’s difference includes a powerful grouping dissonance. Just before m. 17, the boy declares that he knows nothing of the rising and setting of the sun, and in mm. 17–24 he says, “I create day and night for myself; while I sleep and play, my inner life smiles radiantly for me.” During this description of the boy’s individual reckoning of time, Schubert spaces the staccato taps in the bass five quarter notes apart (see Example 7.14c); the five-layer conflicts strongly against the metric four-layer which, though not clearly articulated during the dissonant passage, has been prominent in the earlier portion of the song.
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7.14c “Der blinde Knabe,” mm. 18–21
Metric dissonance, as I define it, is based on the interaction of regular layers. But metric irregularity can also be found in German Lieder – and it can effectively express aspects of the meaning of a text. Example 7.15 is a complete song by the critic and composer Felix Draeseke (1835–1913). The song is notated in time, but it is difficult to hear and perform it in accordance with that meter. The numbers above the music show how I actually hear the meter. I have placed “1’s” at points that are strongly accented by parameters such as poetic stress, dynamics, harmonic change, duration, and contour. In m. 2, for instance, the notated third beat sounds more like a downbeat because of the poetic stress (“wohlvertraute”), the dynamic accent created by the crescendo, and the registral accent resulting from the upward leap. In m. 3, the second beat sounds like a downbeat because it is coordinated with a poetic stress (“Flieder”), with the resolution of the preceding dominant seventh chord, with a durational accent in the piano part, and with a suspension (a dissonance associated with a metric accent). There are similar rationales for later downbeat placements in my analysis.
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7.15 Draeseke, “Die Stelle am Fliederbaum,” Op. 26, No. 5
The notated meter is actualized at several points (in mm. 1, 8, 11–13, 17–22, and 26–29); Draeseke provides enough such passages to provide a foil for the various metric disruptions. Some of these disruptions involve displacement of the three-quarter-note layer (by one beat at mm. 3–4, 6–7 and 15–16, by two beats at mm. 30–31). Even more prevalent are passages in which perceived downbeats are two beats apart, resulting in grouping dissonance (G3/2); this dissonance first appears close to the beginning (mm. 2–3), recurs frequently throughout, and is featured at the very end of the song. Mere acknowledgment of these metric dissonances, however, does not do justice to the flexibility of the meter. How far removed is this from the normal succession of groups of three beats! Draeseke’s avoidance of the familiar aspects of this meter expresses the theme of the poem. This
meter, deprived of its customary, comfortable regularity, and overgrown with unpredictable incursions of conflicting metric layers, stands for the unrecognizability of a place that one knew long ago, and to which one has returned after a long absence.
Text-Expressive Hypermeter
I conclude with a consideration of hypermeter – meter above the level of the barline. Hypermeter, which most frequently involves groups of four bars, might seem to have less potential for expression than the devices mentioned earlier. Indeed, four-bar hypermeter on its own has little such potential. When this common large-scale meter, however, is associated with a displaced “shadow meter,” or when hypermeter becomes irregular or ambiguous, a link between the resulting structures and a given poem may well become apparent.17 Josephine Lang’s songs contain numerous examples of hypermetric expansions (i.e., elongations beyond an established four-bar duration) that serve to emphasize powerful words and important textual themes.18 In Robert Schumann’s late songs (as opposed to his early ones, in which hypermeter is usually straightforward and therefore not expressive), there are examples of superpositions of non-aligned hypermeters in the vocal line and the piano part (in several of the Lenau settings, Op. 90), of hypermetric ambiguity (see “Tief im Herzen,” Op. 138, No. 2), and of pervasive hypermetric irregularity that is ultimately resolved into regularity (see the Mignon song “So lasst mich scheinen,” Op. 98a, No. 9). The superpositions of non-aligned hypermeters in Op. 90 relate to the conflicts between lovers referred to in the given poems. The deep-level ambiguity in the superficially simple song “Tief im Herzen” suggests the topic of the poem: pain concealed beneath a calm surface. The hypermetric irregularity in the Mignon song is associated with lines that describe Mignon’s manifold trials and tribulations; resolution into regular four-bar hypermeter occurs at the end, where Mignon looks forward to the untroubled, serene state to which she shall accede after her imminent death.19
In “Suleika,” Fanny Hensel follows a hypermetric strategy similar to that of Robert Schumann in the Mignon song. I mentioned earlier that the first portion of “Suleika” is dominated by restless longing for an absent lover, which yields at the end to the confident expectation of the assuagement of the longing. Hypermetric structure plays a significant role in the musical representation of this emotional shift. Most of the song is written in three-bar hypermeter.20 Toward the end, however, Hensel moves smoothly into four-bar hypermeter, which, since it sounds more stable, matches the greater emotional stability of the protagonist that is implied at the end of the poem (Example 7.16). The resolution into four-bar hypermeter was less clear in an earlier version of the song; although the vocal line already ended with four-bar hypermeter in that version, the postlude consisted of only three tonic-prolonging measures, which could have been heard as reinstating the initial three-bar hypermeter. In a revision of the ending in this autograph, Hensel added a fourth measure to the postlude (m. 44), thereby reinforcing the vocal ending’s four-bar hypermeter.21
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7.16 Hensel, “Suleika” (1836 setting), ending
We have seen that composers of the German Lied mobilize many aspects of rhythm and meter, from the local to the large scale, in order to assist in the expression of the meaning of a poetic text. I do not pretend that this chapter has exhausted the rhythmic or metric devices that they invoke for this purpose, but I hope at least to have illuminated some aspects of the creativity and ingenuity with which they compose expressively with rhythm and meter.