The late music scholar Edward T. Cone delivered a series of lectures in 1972 at the University of California, Berkeley. The substance of those lectures, printed in The Composer’s Voice, addresses, as does much of Cone’s other writing, the notion that rich possibilities for interpretation exist for performers of musical works if they consider analyzing music in a way that goes well beyond mere traditional (harmonic, melodic, and rhythmic) examination.1 Cone encouraged music (and theatre) artists to delve into the worlds of play structure, dramatic personae, and, in the case of vocal music, text analysis, in order to create a vital live performance. Cone’s ideas have been applied to great effect by many musicians whose orientation to analysis is through musical form and structure first.
Through the authors’ teaching experience in an academic setting, they have discovered that when elements of music theory are incorporated into the process of song interpretation, the product is inevitably richer.
In spite of specific direction offered by some composers and lyricists, the burden of song interpretation and performance falls to the musical theatre practitioner. In order to meet these challenges, the authors invite musical theatre artists to bring as much imagination and insight to the process of music analysis as they would to script analysis. In so doing, they benefit by infusing their typical dramatic or textual song analysis with elements of music theory.
Through the essays that follow, the authors offer models that illustrate approaches to song interpretation.
Jerome Kern is one of the American musical theatre’s greatest musical dramatists. His extensive body of work and his commitment to story and character rank him among the select few composers who have truly shaped the musical theatre art form. Not content to compose commercial “tunes” for the sake of entertainment, Kern, along with Oscar Hammerstein II, pioneered the move toward a musical play. In this format, music and dance are fully integrated so that all aspects combine into a seamless story. Their Show Boat, produced in 1927, demonstrated that the musical could address serious issues, that characters could evolve over a span of many years, and that music could play as important a role as the lyrics and the libretto in expressing character, plot, and theme.
The chorus to “Ol’ Man River” is a classic example of Kern’s mastery of musical storytelling. The song has become an angry anthem against oppression in general, and of racial oppression in particular. Oscar Hammerstein described it as a song of resignation with an implied protest. Hammerstein also admitted that the song was first created because the production needed a song to be sung “in one” or in front of the curtain so that scenery could be changed “in two” or behind the curtain.
In the song, Joe, an old slave, likens his plight to the Mississippi River; it just keeps “rollin’ along.” The song gently hints at the inequity, irony, and impermanence of life as Joe wonders about legacy. Kern used some basic and simple compositional ideas to capture these profound and universal notions.
Kern elected to set the song in the key of C-major. It was a wise choice. It is an easy key in which to play because of the absence of accidentals and the sonority of the key is open and simple.
Likewise, Kern also chose to set the song in common time, or 
. This is the predominant meter for most Western music and is, therefore, highly accessible and uncomplicated. To have set the song in a less common meter or to have changed meter might have given the song more complexity than would be appropriate for the character.
Harmonically, Kern uses a traditional and functional harmonic vocabulary for most of the chorus. Study of the first major musical phrase (measures 1–8) reveals a harmonic progression consisting of tonic, subdominant, dominant, and mediant harmonies. This progression features a consistent return to tonic harmony with the vi and IV chords used to provide modal variety and II7 and V7 used for slightly more complex coloring.
The next major musical phrase (measures 9–16) uses a nearly identical harmonic progression with the addition of one simple but effective change in measure 12. Kern introduces a diminished tonic chord on beat 3. This chord provides emotional intensity. But Kern immediately returns to the harmonic progression he established in the first musical phrase as if to hint at Joe’s deeper pain without allowing him to move too quickly into its full expression.
In the third musical phrase (measures 17–24), Kern moves the harmonic vocabulary in a new direction. As was mentioned earlier in this text, Kern, through the use of accidentals and the reliance upon the d-sharp and f-sharp, makes a temporary modulation into the key of e-minor. What is interesting to note is that, even within this new tonal center, Kern continues to rely upon the tonic, the dominant, and the sixth chords. So even though he temporary shifts the song into the minor mode, he continues to use the harmonic vocabulary that is closely aligned with that of the first two phrases of the chorus. It is also interesting to see that when Kern uses the sixth chord in the new key, he does so in a diminished form—the same c-diminished chord that he so specifically introduced in the second phrase at measure 12.
The fourth and final phrase of the chorus (measures 25–32) features a clear return to the material established in the first and second phrases. Kern simply changes measures 28–32 to allow for the climactic finish of the song as the melody rises to the high third and finally cadences on the upper tonic.
This use of a fairly traditional and accessible harmonic vocabulary, like Kern’s choice of key and meter, helps draw the listener in to the “everyman” quality of the character and his quest for meaning. And it should also be noted that Kern relies heavily on chord tones for his melody throughout the chorus. This functional approach only solidifies the musical and emotional familiarity for the listener. The unfettered and uncomplicated nature of the music allows the listener to focus completely on Joe and his lot in life.
Because he was trying to characterize both the essence of a river and a man who is in the later stage of his life, Kern made great use of rhythm to help captures the sense of slow and careful reflection.
In the first phrase, Kern established a strong undercurrent of slow, open half-note movement in the left hand of the accompaniment. Not only does he use the half-note rhythm to give the piece a sense of tempo and physical weight, but he also notates that the half-note chords are to be rolled as opposed to sounded with one synchronous strike of the keys. Kern is clearly characterizing the “roll” of the water—its ebb and flow to and from and within its shores. This sensibility is nicely reinforced in the melody, which moves in a slow-slow-fast-slow rhythm in measure 1 and is repeated throughout most of the first and second phrases. This use of the quarter-quarter-eighth-quarter combination suggests a slow, steady movement that builds to a quick forward surge that is then suspended, almost hesitant. It is a simple expression that is perfect for an old man contemplating his station in life.
When Kern moves into the third phrase, the release, the primary rhythmic unit is the quarter note. The slow, fluid flow of the first two phrases is replaced by a regular, almost militant, articulation on each beat. This provides forward drive and urgency as the character sings, in monosyllabic words, about “sweat,” “strain,” “pain,” and “jail.” In this section, Joe quotes his master’s orders, and the feelings about his position in life seem to rise ferociously toward the surface. This simple move to the persistent quarter note helps communicate this inner transformation. However, the transformation is unrealized. In the fourth phrase, Kern has Joe return to the slower and less angular rhythms that began the chorus, an indication that he is resigned to the reality of his condition.
However, as the melody begins its climactic rise up to the high tonic and beyond, to the third, there is an emotional crescendo that registers for both Joe and the listener. And in measure 30, Kern adjusts the rhythm slightly so that instead of the slow-slow-fast-slow pattern, he has Joe sing a slow-slow-fast-fast-slow pattern that denies the syncopation into beat 4 and firmly anchors the rhythmic articulation on each beat. Given that this change occurs in the climactic measure of the entire song as the melody reaches to the high third and moves to the resolution on the high tonic, this subtle rhythmic change suggests that while Joe knows his place, he has, perhaps, found comfort in his choice to believe that, like the river, he too will roll along.
Craig Carnelia’s “Just a Housewife” from the musical Working charts the revelatory course of an American housewife, who, when asked about her job, at first responds that what she does is “nothing special.” However, as she sings a list of the ordinary tasks that comprise her daily existence, she discovers an undercurrent of anger that eventually manifests itself into discovery and defense of her self-worth.
Carnelia uses key musical ideas to express the character’s situation and emotional state. He wisely elects to keep the song simple and relies upon repetition to help communicate the essence of the monotony in her life.
Harmonically, the song relies upon two basic chords: I and V. In measures 5–12, Carnelia uses small building blocks or two-measure cells. In measure 5, the harmony consists of a tonic chord with a sustained supertonic (treble clef) that is followed by a descending pattern in the bass clef of measure 6 from the G-sharp (augmented fourth or tritone) to the F-sharp (mediant). This accompaniment pattern is repeated in measures 7 and 8 and appears throughout much of the song. The dominant harmony is first introduced in measures 9 and 10 as a V6 chord in measure 9 with the aforementioned descending pattern repeating in measure 10. This two-measure motif is also repeated throughout the entire song.
The choice to use this limited harmonic vocabulary for the piece is inspired. It supports the simplicity of the character’s daily life. The tonic and dominant harmonies are accessible, uncomplicated, and predictable, much like the housewife who is singing. The sustained supertonic layered on the tonic harmony (measure 5) provides a subtle dissonance that, along with the augmented fourth (measure 6), alludes that life beneath the surface may not be as simple and clean as we would be led to believe. It is also interesting to note that the G-sharp serves as an implied leading tone to the dominant scale degree when Carnelia moves to the dominant harmony in measures 9 and 10.
Carnelia also establishes another important relationship in these two opening motives. The tied tonic whole note in the bass clef in measures 5 and 6 acts as a pedal point, that is, a sustained but unarticulated pitch that tracks through the harmony under which it sounds. In measures 9 and 10, Carnelia continues this device with the tied C-sharp (the leading tone in the key of D-major) in the bass clef. By constructing the dominant harmony at measure 9 in first inversion, Carnelia establishes an important half-step relationship that will be used throughout the song as a device for modulation.
Because the character is moving from a position of passivity into one of defense, Carnelia chooses to abruptly change keys throughout the song. As already established, the song begins in D-major. At measure 45 the key raises one half step to E-flat major, only then to move back down to D-major at measure 61. At measure 81, the key again bumps up to E-flat major and then falls back down to D-major at measure 95. The song finishes in the key in which it began.
This constant movement up and down by half steps echoes the half-step relationship of the pedals Carnelia uses in measures 5–6 and 9–10. This vacillation away from and back to the original key speaks to the character’s attempt to break free from the preconceived notions of her work. However, the fact the she ends in the key in which she began hints that, even after defending herself, she is still not certain that what she does is of enough importance. After all, she finishes the song with the phrase “just a housewife.”
While Carnelia uses a limited harmonic palette as the foundation for the song, he uses rhythm to help propel the character forward. Notice in the first A section of the song (measures 1–24), the two-measure cell (measures 1–2) is articulated by a whole note in the first measure followed by two half notes in the second measure. This choice eases the character into the song with a slow, almost hesitant quality, as if the woman is not sure of herself or that she has much to say.
At the very end of the first A section (measures 21–24) Carnelia adjusts the rhythm slightly. Now the first measure features a half note followed by quarter-note articulations on beats 3 and 4. This slight change is used as the new motif for the second A section (measures 25–44). This variation gives the song a slight forward motion that begins to suggest that more thoughts and emotions emerge as the character begins to discuss her life.
At the end of the second A section (measures 41–44), Carnelia again introduces yet another slight rhythmic variation. He moves into full quarter-note articulations in both measures of the cell (measures 41–42). This drives the emotional energy of the piece with even more urgency. It is an apt choice that supports the character’s rising anger at how others try to characterize her life.
Carnelia makes a slight change in the B section of the song (measures 63–94). While still giving strong emphasis to the quarter note, he reverts to the half-note articulation on beat 1 of the first measure (measure 63) and then returns to strong, full-chord, quarter-note articulations on beats 3 and 4 and all of the next measure (measure 64). In doing so, he continues the rhythmic build of the piece, but the strong half-note articulation at the beginning gives an almost declamatory feel to the lyrics as the character begins to defend and assert herself with lyrics such as “I don’t mean to complain and all, but . . .”
Halfway through the B section (measure 79), Carnelia finally propels the rhythmic energy into eighth-note movement. Wisely, he accompanies this change with a half-step rise in key, which further expresses the power of the character’s transformation, most clearly expressed in the lyric, “Did ya ever think, really stop and think, what a job it was, doing all the things that a housewife does?”
As Carnelia returns to the A section, he begins to slow his rhythmic build by returning to, first, quarter-note movements, then reintroducing half-note articulations, and finally, in measure 123, to whole-note articulations. In this way, he eases back out of the build, returning the character to where she started, “like my mother. . . just a housewife.”
Melodically, Carnelia continues the conventions he has used as the foundation for the character’s expression: simplicity and repetition. In the A sections of the song, the melody operates, unlike the accompaniment, in four-measure units (measures 5–8). The melody begins in measure 5 with a diatonic ascent on beat 2 (beginning on the dominant and rising to the tonic). In measure 6, he repeats the rest on beat 1, follows on beat 2 with a rise on G-sharp to the dominant, and falls on beat 3 to the F-sharp (the third of the tonic chord), and on beat 4 to the tonic. The G-sharp-to-A has been prepared by the introduction of the g-sharp in the accompaniment cell. In measure 7, Carnelia repeats the same pitches as in measure 5 (albeit with different rhythms obviously determined to help support the text) and in measure 8 repeats the basic melodic structure of measure 6 with the one exception of denying the cadential landing on tonic on beat 4.
Examination of the melody in measures 9–12 shows that Carnelia follows the same essential pattern with a few pitch adjustments to correspond to the new, dominant harmony.
These simple choices make the song familiar and predictable. The tune adopts an incessant, singsong quality. One suspects this may be Carnelia’s intention. The listener gets caught up in the character’s routine. But in the B section, Carnelia makes yet another simple choice that gives the song an important release from the mundane. Wisely, it comes as the character is beginning her transformation.
At measure 63, Carnelia anchors the melody to the dominant scale degree and turns the melody into an almost one-note diatribe. The only break in the intensity is the occasional dip down into the chromatic lower neighbor (that wonderfully useful G-sharp again!). The dip to the lower neighbor helps to propel and serve as a springboard for the character, almost as if she is gaining more and more courage and self-worth with each passing phrase. The power of this simple choice is evidenced on two fronts. Given that the melodic contour of the A section has been so carefully restrained, this change speaks volumes about the change occurring within the character. Further, Carnelia gets great mileage from this simple choice, continuing to use it even when he changes key within the B section itself.
And, at the return of the A section, just as Carnelia reverted to previously established rhythmic and harmonic patterns, so he now does melodically. In measures 103–124, he uses his original A-section melodic motifs, but rather than restate them literally he allows himself to use them in fragments. It is clear that the character is returning, but the slight variations keep the piece interesting and reveal that the character is a bit unsettled by her journey.
Carnelia demonstrates, with amazing potency, one of the most important principles for good songwriting for the stage: simplicity. If the goal is to express the character, Carnelia’s careful restraint and reliance upon basic harmonic, melodic, and rhythmic ideas communicate the tedium, frustration, and reawakening of a humble housewife.
It is generally agreed that, at a basic perceptual level, those who listen to Western music characterize the major mode as “happy, bright, or effusive,” and the minor mode as “sad, dark, and introspective.” Composers of program music (music intended to evoke extramusical images or ideas, generally instrumental works and without lyrics) employ a conscious choice. Musical theatre music and, in fact, music of all genres in which there is a character (protagonist) singing lyrics that are supported by accompaniment, offers deeper levels of interpretation. In this case, it can be compelling to consider the lyrics as putting forth the “real” text (that which is explicit), the melody stating a form of “subtext” (meaning behind the words), and the accompaniment providing yet another, more intense level of subtext.
An examination of “Love, Look Away” from the 1958 Rodgers and Hammerstein musical Flower Drum Song provides the listener with an example of a song from the vast musical theatre canon in which such possibility exists. One might consider the implied “minor mode” melody as representing the protagonist’s bereft feelings of love unrequited, while the “major mode” inherent in the accompaniment speaks of the sublime beauty of love. The juxtaposition, major and minor, can be perceived as that “bittersweet” feeling that can accompany an intense emotion like love.
In the story, the character Helen is in love with Wang Ta, a man whose marriage with another woman is arranged. Helen sings the following lyrics as she realizes the hopelessness and folly of her situation:
I have wished before,
I will wish no more.
Love, look away!
Love, look away from me.
Fly, when you pass my door,
Fly and get lost at sea.
Call it a day.
Love, let us say we’re through.
No good are you for me,
No good am I for you.
Wanting you so,
I try too much.
After you go,
I cry too much.
Love, look away.
Lonely though I may be,
Leave me and set me free,
Look away, look away, look away . . . from . . . me.2
The song begins in the key of E-flat major. Helen’s melody in the four-measure verse is on B-flat, the dominant. Preceding Helen’s first utterance is a chord on the downbeat in the accompaniment that spells a I 
. The instability of both a dominant monotone melody and a second-inversion tonic triad leave the listener “dangling,” awaiting resolution, in the same way that Helen seeks solace in her hopeless situation. The accompaniment progresses to a strong V7 in the last two measures of the introduction and leads directly into the tonic on the downbeat of measure 5.
Helen’s melody in measures 5–8 is a set of two minor triads, G-minor and F-minor. It is followed by a diminished triad in measure 9 and a minor-minor seventh chord in measure 11. When heard without accompaniment, a minor or “sad” sound is firmly established. It is interesting, however, that the accompaniment seems to tell another “tale.” The downbeat of the chorus (measure 5) is a MM-9th sonority that belies Helen’s feeling of desperation and focuses instead on the “richness” and “expansiveness” of an emotion like love. In fact, short of a one-measure foray into c-minor (the relative key of E-flat major), each section of the A section yields a clearly established home in E-flat major. Other compositional devices underscore the major mode of the accompaniment. In measures 7–9, and again in measures 15–16, an inner-voice tonic-upper neighbor-tonic countermelody reinforces the major key.
The lyric “me” in measures 8 and 18 falls first on the dominant pitch and then on the mediant. Taken by themselves, the two utterances appear to spell the root and third of a g-minor triad, underscoring Helen’s despair. Yet, when she sings the word “you” in measure 20, she does so on a high tonic E-flat. It is the first time in the song thus far that an E-flat in the melody occurs with a tonic (and major) sonority. Once can interpret this as reflecting Helen’s acute feelings for the object of her affection even as she acknowledges that the love will never be returned. Additionally, the lower-neighbor figure in the accompaniment (tonic-leading tone-tonic) reinforces the drama of her emotion, seeking, yet seeming to fall away from resolution.
The melody in the bridge presents an interesting contrast to that of the A sections. Whereas triads and seventh chords (all stacked in thirds) comprise nearly the entire A section, the bridge features diatonic movement, predominantly in an ascending pattern. In this part, the melody seems more “earthbound,” almost plodding along, and creates a striking parallel to Helen’s lyrics. Notice that, in the A sections, Helen places the burden of action on something outside of herself. In this case, love (the dramatic metaphor for Wang Ta). She asks love to “look away” and “fly,” and the ascending leaps of thirds color those actions. When, in the bridge, Helen’s action words become more self-directed—“wanting you,” “I try,” “I cry”—the text is painted with the aforementioned diatonic melody, and seem to reflect Helen’s own feelings of being “earthbound,” as she tries to go through her day in sorrow. Rhythmic patterns in measures 21–22 and 25–26 further strengthen the lamination of melody and lyric, as the accents become “displaced” and the pulse more “ponderous,” almost behind the beat. They seem to parallel Helen’s fatigue and hopelessness in the face of unrequited love. Even the bass line of the accompaniment in those measures descends in stepwise motion.
Upon the final statement of the A section, and at the climax in measures 33–36, the harmony (which thus far has stayed very close to I in E-flat major) finally leaves the major tonic, via mm-9th chord (
9/vi), and arrives at c-minor momentarily. This minor mode “agreement” between Helen’s melody and the accompaniment occurs as Helen states what may be her difficult wish to “set me free.”
The range of Helen’s melody extends to a high G in measure 35 and features in the accompaniment, once again, a tonic sonority in second inversion, reflecting, in the final measures of the song, the lack of emotional resolution sensed in the introduction.
Helen’s final vocalization is sung on a descending E-flat major scale. This ultimate downward melodic motion, in contrast to what has been primarily one of ascent, paints a dramatic musical picture of Helen’s anguish.
For the majority of Rodgers and Hammerstein collaborations, Oscar Hammerstein would create the lyric to a song first, and then Rodgers would compose the music. Rodgers felt that “If a composer is to reach his audience emotionally—and surely that’s what theatre music is all about—he must reach the people through sounds they can relate to.”3 The extent to which Rodgers charted the musical journey of “Love, Look Away” may not be known, but certainly the profoundly descriptive lamination of text and music speaks to Rodgers’ and Hammerstein’s genius at finding the most appropriate means to reach their audience emotionally.
An exploration of Jason Robert Brown’s “Stars and the Moon” from Songs for a New World yields numerous possibilities for a deeper understanding of the musico/textual gesture and a more fully realized performance.
Judging from the key signature at the outset, the song appears to be in the key of G-Major or e-minor. It becomes apparent quickly, though, that the song is, in fact, in the mixolydian mode on D (D–E–F#–G–A–B–C–D). The frequent use of a C-major sonority leaves the impression of subtonic harmony, but D-major as the home key is implied at cadences in measures 51–53, 99–101, and through the extended coda beginning in measure 168, with the alteration of c-natural to c-sharp (the leading tone of D-major). The text of the song is cast as a narrative—a story, if you will—that is best told in a voice quality that approximates speech. It might be that by avoiding the strong melodic relationship of leading tone to tonic and strong movement to harmonic closure, the “honesty” of “speaking” the tale and the storyteller remain “believable” in a way that singing in D-major might not.
The range of the A section is only a major sixth (A to F-sharp) that moves predominantly by whole step, and the speechlike intonation contour mirrors that of the words. The lyric at this point is little more than exposition (who and what). The range of the melody is extended only slightly in measure 25 with an octave leap, A to A. It corresponds with the lyric “and I was sure,” and seems to bring attention to itself as being an important statement.
The verse has rhythmic patterns that follow natural speech as well. They are not “regular” in the sense that syncopations, ties, and some triplet figures are used almost randomly; therefore, important descriptive words are “landed” through rhythmic placement. In measure 14, for example, rather than casting the rhythm of “but his” as either quarter notes or eighth notes, Brown chose a triplet figure that spans two beats, leaving the impression that the phrase “but his smile” is almost an afterthought that trails off wistfully. Similarly, if one contrasts the rhythm in measures 9–11 with the parallel phrase in measures 17–18, it appears that the protagonist knows exactly what she4 wants to tell us first (measure 10—“I met a man without a dollar to his name”) about the object of the song (with a relatively straightforward quarter rest-eighth-dotted-quarter-eighth-rest-eighth rhythm). In measure 18, the rhythm of quarter rest quarter-tied-to-triplets leaves the impression that the protagonist is “thinking” about what negative quality (obviously out of a list of many) to mention next (“I met a man who had no yearn or claim to fame”).
The chorus introduces a more active rhythmic display. As the protagonist quotes “him,” the words come forth more aggressively and with a more regularly recurring pulse, almost as if “his” words are a well-memorized, oft-repeated sales pitch. When the singer reacts in measures 50–52 with the decision “you know, I’d rather have a yacht,” there is a return to the initial melodic motif of the verse, more contained, more calm than the chorus.
Stars and the Moon is strophic, and each verse is merely a continuation of the singer’s story—a litany, if you will—of a life possibly misspent. The listener feels the “honesty” of the story channeled through a melody and accompaniment that does not play on heightened musical/dramatic impulse to supplement the text.
An A-Mm 9th appears in the accompaniment in measure 149 and is repeated eight times in the coda. This extended “dominant” (A–C-sharp–E–G–B-flat) complements the text with which it associates, creating a sort of musical “conjunction” that parallels the storyteller’s use of the word “and.” It leaves open the possibility for heightened drama, but finally resolves to a cadence along with the singer’s resignation that “I’ll never have the moon.” The accompaniment rideout mirrors the song’s introduction, bringing full cycle the protagonist’s life of being tempted by change, but never reaching for it, always returning to what is a given in his or her life.
Having now examined several songs, questions arise. Are we, as interpreters, being presumptuous in assuming the authors’ original intent? In offering models for study, are we mandating a specific interpretation of any song?
We maintain that the answer to both questions is a resounding “no.” Certainly, one does risk dredging more meaning out of a song than may have been intended. At the end of the day, perhaps the significance of a particular compositional choice is just that it “sounds good.” But, if one does not take the risk of reading too much into the music, one might not uncover myriad possibilities for interpretation and performance. In undertaking the task of finding meaning in musical theatre literature, designers, stage managers, directors, and performers are empowered to transport an audience to that realm where the real transcends the unreal.
1. Edward T. Cone, The Composer’s Voice (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1974).
2. Oscar Hammerstein II and Richard Rodgers, “Love, Look Away,” in Flower Drum Song (Milwaukee, WI: Hal Leonard, 1958).
3. Richard Rodgers, Musical Stages (New York: Random House, 1975), 273.
4. Jason Robert Brown has expressed his intention that the character singing this song “is meant unequivocally to be a woman.” However, the authors believe that any text that does not explicitly state details such as gender, location, or historic period can be interpreted and executed out of context (as in a cabaret setting) and free the performer to create a personal “stamp” on a song or monologue, provided he or she has created a strong enough subtext to support decisions in aesthetics.
