In Part I of this series we learned about the sentence—the first of three Classical theme types. I recommend reading that post before continuing with the second theme type, the period.
Your Musical Sixth Sense
What if I told you that you already know exactly what our second theme type, the period, sounds like? Call it musical intuition and chalk it up to a lifetime of listening. You have a musical sixth sense. In this post, I’m going to prove it.
The well-known (albeit silly) example below is a period. Take a listen, and try dividing the period into two halves: the open-ended “call” and the more-closed “response.” As always, listen actively—don’t move on until you've made a definitive decision.
The period’s two halves are divided below:
The Call
The Response
I have a feeling you intuited the two halves with ease. Your intuition for call and response—or “open and closed”—reflects your musical sixth sense. Call and response is an extremely common musical gesture, appearing as early as the 13th century.1 When composed as a theme type, we refer to this musical gesture as a period. So, let’s transform our sixth sense into active listening by discovering the specific musical features of periods composed by the great masters.
Antecedent and Consequent
The official labels for the two halves of a period are antecedent (call) and consequent (response).2 Let’s hear an example from Papa Haydn to start us off (“Papa Haydn” was Mozart’s endearing term for his older contemporary).
Haydn begins his Piano Sonata in F Major, H. XVI/9, iii with a blisteringly quick period. Like all periods, Haydn’s theme comprises two balanced and complimentary halves: antecedent and consequent. Given the quick tempo of the theme, I recommend a few listenings to discern these two halves.
And here are the two halves divided to confirm your intuitions:
Antecedent
Consequent
These halves are shown below. I marked the ending of each as “open” and “closed.”
Musically, we can associate open and closed with weak and strong. Or, to use grammar analogy, a comma and a period.
We noted last post how a grammatical period—not to be confused with a period theme type—is like a cadence in music. Cadences punctuate musical endings. Well, it turns out, I didn’t tell you the whole truth—there are different types of cadences. Some cadences act like commas and some cadences act like (grammatical) periods. We can distinguish these as weak and strong cadences, respectively. You now officially have the whole truth, so let’s put it to use.
The antecedent of a period theme type ends with a weak cadence, the consequent ends with a strong cadence—the first sounds more open, the second more closed. Let’s listen for this weak-strong contrast in the Haydn:
Not a bad start. We’ve refined our sixth sense from “open and closed” to “antecedent + weak cadence, consequent + strong cadence.” Let’s update our listening diagram:
Cadences end each half of the theme, but what begins each half? Let’s start with the antecedent phrase.
The antecedent begins with a basic idea: a concise and catchy segment of music. You may be thinking that the sentence theme type also begins with a basic idea—you’re right! We can discuss how a period theme differs from a sentence theme in the next post, but for now let’s stay focused on the antecedent.
Haydn’s basic idea comprises an explosive upward arpeggio (an outline of chord):
Haydn’s Basic Idea
Following his basic idea, Haydn completes the antecedent with a contrasting idea: another concise musical idea, but one that contrasts with the basic idea and ends with a cadence. In this case, Haydn’s contrasting idea descends quickly stepwise into a weak cadence. Let’s take a listen:
Haydn’s Contrasting Idea
Taken together, the basic idea and the contrasting idea comprise the first half of the period—the antecedent—as shown below:
The antecedent functions as the “call,” and it begs for a response; it is incomplete on it’s own. Here again, our sixth sense comes into play—we desire a response because we sense that the cadence at the end of the antecedent is weak. We want a stronger conclusion.
And so we arrive at the composer’s dilemma: how can the consequent half of the period serve as both: a response and a more definitive ending. On the one hand, a response should relate to the call. On the other hand, it needs to end differently—stronger! The musical solution: repeat, but vary.
As shown above, the consequent begins with a return of the basic idea from the antecedent phrase. This return acts as a response to the call put out by the antecedent.
Next comes a varied contrasting idea. Unlike the return of the basic idea, the composer varies the contrasting idea to end with a stronger cadence. Repeat, but vary!
There’s not much point in listening to the consequent in isolation, since the features outlined above rely on their relationship to the antecedent phrase. So instead, your three-part task—should you choose to accept it—is the following:
Listen to the basic idea of the antecedent, then of the consequent. Hear how they are the exact same?
ANTECEDENT: Basic Idea
CONSEQUENT: Basic Idea
Listen to the contrasting idea of the antecedent, then of the consequent. Hear how Haydn slightly varies the consequent contrasting idea to end with a stronger cadence?
ANTECEDENT: contrasting idea
CONSEQUENT: contrasting idea
Finally, listen to the entire theme and enjoy hearing all these interacting elements—you’re hearing the period the same way Haydn did!
ENTIRE THEME:
Well Don’t Just Sit There!
We’ve refined our musical sixth sense enough for a composition lesson with one of the greats: Herr Amadeus Mozart. The lesson at hand? Stasis: the Dos and the Don’ts.
Unintended stasis ranks high among music’s deadly sins. Knowing when to pause and when not to pause separates the greats from the amateurs. Period themes are particularly tricky in this regard, because they include two cadences. Cadences frequently correlate with moments of pause, or stasis.
Amateur composers often include too much stasis at the end of the antecedent—the first half of the period. The music just sits there like a stick in the mud. Now, a good composer, like Mozart, knows that you can have both a cadence and continued momentum. His trick? The lean-in!
Mozart’s famous period from the Piano Concerto in D minor, ii includes a lean-in. Let’s play a game: first listen to Mozart’s “Teacher” version of the theme below, then listen to my “student” version. My student version is the same but does not include Mozart’s lean-in.
Herr Mozart’s “Teacher” Version
E.J. Farnsworth’s “Student” Version
Did you hear the difference? My version got stuck like a stick in the mud. The cadence ending my antecedent just sat there for what seemed like forever.
To avoid this unintended stasis, my teacher, Herr Mozart, kindly explains the lean-in to me: “A lean-in is a short segment of music that follows the cadence ending the antecedent. It propels us forward into the consequent.” Mozart plays his version of the theme for me again (take a listen above) to exemplify this ingenious device.
Following his thoughtful performance, Mozart kindly upgrades my listening diagram to account for this lean-in gesture, shown below—thank you, Herr Mozart!
Take away: Composers frequently include a short lean-in gesture after the cadence ending the antecedent. This gesture avoids too much stasis, and propels us into the consequent.
Leaning into Our Conclusion
The lean-in was worth a lesson with Mozart—it appears in countless periods, so identifying it as we listen is crucial.
I provide four examples at the end of this post as a listening challenge. The first two do not have lean-ins; the final two do. The examples become progressively more difficult, but here’s a tip for any period: listen for the return of the basic idea. This return marks the beginning of the consequent phrase. Hearing this return is your path to successfully distinguishing the two halves: antecedent and consequent. From there, you can refine your listening to focus on smaller musical elements: basic idea, contrasting idea, cadences, etc. Don’t quit until you hear each theme like a Classical master!
Next time we’ll push our listening to the limit with the third and final theme type—the hybrid theme. That post will begin with a listening challenge focused on the sentence vs. period, so come prepared. Until then, happy listening.
Four Listening Challenges
Mozart: Eine kleine Nachtmusik, K. 525, ii (no lean-in)
Mozart: Piano Sonata in D, K. 311, ii (no lean-in)
Beethoven: String Quartet in B-flat, Op. 18, No. 6, ii (includes a descending stepwise lean-in)
(This one is tough! Beethoven adds a new melody, high above the lower voices in the consequent phrase. Don’t let him fool you. Ignore this beautiful soaring melody and listen for the lowest-sounding voices, which play a return of the basic idea).
Haydn, Symphony 101, “The Clock,” ii (includes an ascending stepwise lean-in)
(This delightful piece warrants posting a YouTube video with more info about the work and a performance by the London Phil. For our purposes, you’ll jump into the video (2:13-2:40) where the host introduces what she calls “Theme A, which is divided into two phrases.” As an expert listener, you know exactly what she means: a period, with an antecedent and consequent. Listen for Haydn’s lean-in after the cadence ending his antecedent).
As the music scholar Leonard Ratner notes, “Regular period-like structures [call and response] can be found in music from as early as the 13th century; the two strains of an estampie were designated primus punctus and secundus punctus, and their respective endings ‘ouvert’ and ‘clos’.” An estampie was a medieval dance—a topic for a future post perhaps.
Why such fancy terms? Many terms for musical form first appeared in German, including those related to the period theme type. The translations of these terms are what we use today: antecedent (from the German, “Vordersatz”) and consequent (from the German, “Nachsatz”). The first author to use these terms to refer to the two halves of a period was the composer Adolph Bernhard Marx.