Musical Rhetoric

Refers to the emotive (causing a listener to feel a specific way) or persuasive (causing the listener to "see" a scene or "hear" a story) power of music An example of musical rhetoric is the way a composer tries to "paint" a picture of a scene, story, or idea in the listener's mind of a written text, which is either sung or given to the listener in the form of a program.

FRANZ SCHUBERT - Erlköing (The Elfking) Lied (leet) / Lieder (leader) –An art song with a German text

Schubert, Erlkönig text Wer reitet so spaet durch Nacht und Wind? Es ist der Vater mit seinem Kind; Er hat den Knaben wohl in dem Arm, Er fasst ihn sicher, er haelt ihn warm. Who rides so late through the night and the wind? It is the father with his child; He folds the boy close in his arms, He clasps him securely, he holds him warmly.

Schubert, Erlkönig text Mein Sohn, was birgst du so bang dein Gesicht? Siehst, Vater, du den Erlkoenig nicht? Den Erlenkoenig mit Dron und Schweif? Mein Sohn, es ist ein Nebelstreif. My son, why do you hid your face so anxiously? Father, dont you see the Erlking? The Erlking with his crown and his train? My son, it is a streak of mist.

Schubert, Erlkönig text Du liebes Kind, komm, geh mit mir! Gar schoene Spiele spiel ich mit dir, Manch bunte Blumen sind an dem Strand, Meine Mutter hat manch guelden Gewand. Dear child, come, go with me! Ill play the prettiest games with you. Many colored flowers grow along the shore; My mother has many golden garments.

Schubert, Erlkönig text Mein Vater, mein Vater, und hoerest du nicht, Was Erlenkoenig mir leise verspricht? Sei ruhig, bleibe ruhig, mein Kind: In duerren Blaettern saeuselt der Wind. My father, my father, and dont you hear The Erlking whispering promises to me? Be quiet, stay quiet, my child; The wind is rustling in the dead leaves.

Schubert, Erlkönig text Willst, feiner Knabe, du mit mir gehn? Meine Toechter sollen dich warten schoen; Meine Toechter fuehren den naechtlichen Reihn Und wiegen und tanzen und singen dich ein. My handsome boy, will you come with me? My daughers shall wait upon you; My daughters lead off in the dance every night, And cradle and dance and sing you to sleep.

Schubert, Erlkönig text Mein Vater, mein Vater, und siehst du nicht dort Erlkoenighs Toechter am duestern Ort? Mein Sohn, mein sohn, ich seh es genau Es scheinen die alten Weiden so grau. My father, my father, and dont you see there The Erlkings daughters in the shadows? My son,my son, I see it clearly; The old willows look so gray.

Schubert, Erlkönig text Ich liebe dich, mich reizt deine schoene Gestalt; Und bist du night willig, so brauch ich Gewalt. I love you, your beautiful figure delights me! And if you are not willing, then I shall use force!

Schubert, Erlkönig text Mein Vater, mein Vater, jetzt fasst er mich an! Erlkoenig hat mir ein Leids getan! Dem Vater graustets er reitet geschwind, Er haelt in Armen das aechzende Kind, Erreicht den Hof mit Muehe und Not: My father, my father, now he is taking hold of me! The Erlking has hurt me! The father shudders, he rides swiftly on; He holds in his arms the groaning child, He reaches the courtyard weary and anxious:

Schubert, Erlkönig text In seinem Armen das Kind war tot. In his arms the child was dead.

ANTONIO VIVALDI - First Movement: Allegro from La Primavera [Spring], Concerto for Violin and String Orchestra, Op. 8, No. 1 from The Four Seasons

Spring has come, and joyfully, The birds greet it with a happy song. And the streams, fanned by gentle breezes, Flow along with a sweet murmur. Covering the sky with a black cloak, Thunder and lightning come to announce the season. When these have quieted down, the little birds Return to their enchanting song.

HECTOR BERLIOZ - Movement 4 (March to the Scaffold), Symphonie Fantastique (Fantastic Symphony) A young musician of extraordinary sensibility and abundant imagination, in the depths of despair because of hopeless love, has poisoned himself with opium. The drug is too feeble to kill him but plunges him into a heavy sleep accompanied by weird visions.

His sensations, emotions, and memories, as they pass through his affected mind, are transformed into musical images and ideas. The beloved one herself becomes to him a melody, a recurrent theme (idée fixe) which haunts him continually…

[Movement 4] …He dreams that he has murdered his beloved, that he has been condemned to death and is being led to the scaffold. The procession moves forward to the sounds of a march that is now somber and fierce, now brilliant and solemn, in which the muffled sounds of heavy steps give way without transition to the noisiest outbursts. At the end the idée fixe returns for a moment, like a last thought of love interrupted by the death blow.

[Movement 5] …He sees himself at a witches' sabbath in the midst of a hideous crowd of ghouls, sorcerers, and monsters of every description, united for his funeral. Strange noises, groan, shrieks of laughter, distant cries, which other cries seem to answer. The melody of the loved one is heard, but it has lost its character of nobleness and timidity; it is no more than a dance tune, ignoble, trivial, and grotesque. It is she who comes to the sabbath!…A howl of joy greets her arrival…She participates in the diabolical orgy…The funeral knell, burlesque of the Dies irae. Witches' dance. The dance the Dies irae combined.