Elgar and academicism 2: practice beyond theory

Musical Times, Autumn 2005 by Newbould, Brian

THERE would have been nothing in textbooks, nor probably in composition lessons, to help Elgar portray a vision of angels (Gerontius), laughter (Falstaff), doubting Judas (The apostles), cockney London (Cockaigne), images of the sea (Seapictures), or the braggart who drinks himself into a stupor and succumbs to sleep (Falstaff). True, these are challenges to the imagination, and perhaps less obviously to technique; but imagination is futile without technique, and it is technique that is the concern of the instructor, empowering the imagination to express itself.

What areas of technique, then, do depend largely on independent learning through the ear rather than in instruction by a 'teacher' or an academic text? Orchestration was one such area, although all orchestrators benefit from the reference manual by their elbow, to check up on basic practicalities in the early stages of their practice. There are two other specific areas, both having harmonic repercussions, and both associated with the most fundamental aspect of harmonic thinking - the behaviour of the bass line. Neither of them receives significant attention in the textbooks, not in those of Elgar's time nor appreciably more in those of more recent date.

The first of these is the pedal (or pedal-point), typically a sustaining or reiteration of a note in the bass while harmonies change above it, creating dissonance with the bass in the process. Elgar's use of the device will be touched upon in the last of these three articles.

The second technical tool which Elgar could only have absorbed from his personal study of real music will occupy the remainder of this article. If textbooks give any advice on melody writing, they usually advocate - among other things - a balanced mixture of step movement and leaps. (The familiar 'Land of hope and glory' tune reflects this balance.) What they tend not to offer is advice on the linear aspects of a bass line: but perhaps they should, because students in their attempts to compose tend to either neglect the linear behaviour of a bass line or let the bass jump about rather arbitrarily in a series of leaps for the most part - much easier than writing smooth stepwise movement in the bass simply because leaps tend to fit in more readily with the requirements of elementary chord progression, and the bass of course is the foundation of the harmony so its harmonic function must always be kept in mind.

Elgar did have some early experience of playing the organ, having often sat beside his father, who was organist at St George's Church in Worcester, where his duties included composing (though he claimed to undertake that part of his duties unwillingly). As a tyro player, Edward may well have found that his pedal-playing feet found it easier to maintain a sense of orientation if plenty of steps were involved in the pedal part. To move up or down a step, one may simply pivot from heel to toe, or vice versa, on the same foot - staying physically in touch with the timber. Wider intervals require, at first, a leap of faith as well as of foot. (As one progresses, one finds a zigzagging pattern of thirds comfortable, particularly at faster speeds, as it enables the feet to alternate and thus share the work.) Could it be that Elgar's stepping basses, in non-organ works, derive from his (semi-skilled) organ-playing? It is true that in the pedal part of his Organ Sonata steps outnumber leaps by 2.77 to 1. A comparison with other sonatas (or equivalents) shows, in the Violin Sonata, a ratio of 1.4 to 1, and in the Piano Quintet 1.26 to 1.4 There are, however, high ratios of step to leap in the basses of works not written for organ, as will be seen: and in any event, the long tradition of stepwise bass movement in Classical and Romantic music points to a more universal provenance. In as much as that music is conditioned by practicalities, these are the product of orchestral and chamber thinking rather than the peculiarities of the organ.