EASTMAN SCHOOL OF MUSIC Rochester, NY

TTHHEE GGUUIITTAARR MMUUSSIICC OOFF PPEETTEERR SSCCUULLTTHHOORRPPEE

In Partial Fulfillment of the Doctorate of Musical Arts

(Performance and Literature)

BY JONATHAN PAGET

Supervised by Professor Ralph P. Locke

Department of Musicology

January, 2003

Copyright © 2003 by Jonathan Paget

All rights reserved

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CURRICULUM VITAE

The author was born in Perth, Western Australia, on 21 April 1975. He attended the

University of Western Australia from 1993 to 1996 and graduated with a Bachelor of

Music (1st class honors) in performance on the classical guitar. He came to the Eastman

School of Music in the Fall of 1997 on a Fulbright Post-Graduate Award and completed

the Master of Music degree in performance and literature on the classical guitar (with

Performer's Certificate) under the direction of Nicholas Goluses. In 1998, he continued

graduate studies at Eastman with the support of a Hackett Student-Ship (granted by the

University of Western Australia), commencing work on the Doctor of Musical Arts

degree in performance and literature (classical guitar), and subsequently a Master of Arts

in pedagogy of music theory. While at Eastman, the author has been a teaching assistant

in guitar studies, musicology, and theory (aural skills), and a faculty intern for the

Community Education Division. As part of the doctorate, he pursued research on the

music of Peter Sculthorpe under the direction of Professor Ralph P. Locke, musicology

department chair, graduating in 2003.

A well-seasoned performer, the author has achieved success in major

competitions such as the Shell Darwin International Guitar Competition (1st prize, 1997),

the Rantucci Competition (1st prize, 1999), and the Guitar Foundation of America

International Solo Competition (4th prize, 1999). His first compact disc,

"Kaleidoscope," which was released in April 2002, is a colorful celebration of the

guitar’s multicultural horizons.

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

My supervisor, Professor Ralph P. Locke, deserves my sincere thanks for his help,

advice, and encouragement. I also wish to thank Professors Ciro Scotto and Martin

Scherzinger, whose insightful criticisms were very useful in refining the work. My

thanks also go to Professor Steven Laitz, who worked with me as supervisor of my

lecture-recital, a project which was subsequently expanded to become this doctoral essay.

In addition, I wish to thank the composer himself, Peter Sculthorpe, for his generosity in

sending me useful information and unpublished scores, and his willingness to help over

many friendly phone conversations. Finally, I wish to express my gratitude to the

University of Western Australia for the provision of the Hackett Student-Ship, a financial

backing without which my doctoral studies at Eastman would not have been possible.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS CURRICULUM VITAE............................................................................................................................III

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS.......................................................................................................................IV

LIST OF TABLES ................................................................................................................................... VII

LIST OF MUSICAL EXAMPLES ........................................................................................................VIII

CHAPTER 1: AN HISTORICAL, PHILOSOPHICAL, AND STYLISTIC OVERVIEW ................... 1

1-1. BIOGRAPHICAL BACKGROUND ............................................................................................................ 1 1-2. THE FORGING OF AN AUSTRALIAN STYLE: MYTH OR REALITY? ......................................................... 3 1-3. THE IMPORTANCE OF THE LANDSCAPE................................................................................................ 9 1-4. SCULTHORPE AND ASIA .................................................................................................................... 13 1-5. THE INFLUENCE OF ABORIGINAL CULTURE ...................................................................................... 21 1-6. CROSS-FERTILIZATION AND KAKADU SONGLINES ............................................................................ 29

(1) The “Elcho Island Lament”............................................................................................................ 34 (2) “Djilile” or “Whispering Duck”.................................................................................................... 36 (3) The “Torres Strait Dance-Song”.................................................................................................... 40 (4) The “Estatico” Melody of Tropic ................................................................................................... 40

1-7. STYLISTIC CONSISTENCY: A “MUSICAL LANGUAGE”? ...................................................................... 41 1-8. THE AIMS OF THIS STUDY................................................................................................................. 47

CHAPTER 2: SCULTHORPE AND THE GUITAR.............................................................................. 49

2-1. A BRIEF HISTORY ............................................................................................................................. 49 2-2. WRITING IDIOMATICALLY FOR THE GUITAR ..................................................................................... 51 2-3. A SYNOPSIS OF THE GUITAR WORKS ................................................................................................ 56

The Splendour and the Peaks (1963) ................................................................................................... 56 Cantares (1979) ................................................................................................................................... 56 The Visions of Captain Quiros (1980) ................................................................................................. 57 Nocturne (1980) ................................................................................................................................... 58 Nourlangie (1989)................................................................................................................................ 59 Tropic (1992) ....................................................................................................................................... 59 From Kakadu (1993)............................................................................................................................ 61 Into the Dreaming (1994)..................................................................................................................... 62 Simori (1995) ....................................................................................................................................... 63 Love-Song (1997) ................................................................................................................................. 64 Darwin Calypso (2002)........................................................................................................................ 66 Sea Chant (2002).................................................................................................................................. 67

CHAPTER 3: A GUITAR CONCERTO ................................................................................................. 68

3-1. AN ARDUOUS JOURNEY AND PROGRAMMATIC METAMORPHOSIS..................................................... 68 3-2. DUALITY, UNITY, AND TRANSITION IN NOURLANGIE......................................................................... 74 3-3. TOWARDS A SYNTAX FOR PENTATONICISM....................................................................................... 88 3-4. THE HIDDEN OCTATONIC HISTORY OF NOURLANGIE IN THE VISIONS OF CAPTAIN QUIROS--AN OCTATONIC TOUR-DE-FORCE.................................................................................................................. 106

The “6ths” Motive (1) ........................................................................................................................ 114 The “Risoluto” Theme (2).................................................................................................................. 114 Motive “y” (3).................................................................................................................................... 118 The “Yearning” Theme (4) ................................................................................................................ 121 The “Holy Spirit” Theme (5) ............................................................................................................. 123 The “Misterioso” Chords (6) ............................................................................................................. 126 The “Parallel Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” Theme (7), and The “Wailing” Motive (8) ............................... 126 A Summary of Familial Resemblances in Quiros............................................................................... 126

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3-5. THE GENESIS OF THE “MISTERIOSO” CHORDS: A MYSTERY UNRAVELED ...................................... 129 An Evolutionary Process: Part One................................................................................................... 133 An Evolutionary Process: Part Two................................................................................................... 134 Differing Versions .............................................................................................................................. 139

3-6. THE INTEGRATION AND INTERACTION OF OCTATONIC THEMES IN NOURLANGIE............................ 139

CHAPTER 4: TROPIC ............................................................................................................................ 149

4-1. THE RATIONALE FOR AN ANALYSIS AND HERMENEUTIC ................................................................ 149 4-2. THE “LONTANO” MELODY ............................................................................................................. 151

Harmonization.................................................................................................................................... 151 Suggested Hermeneutic ...................................................................................................................... 155

4-3. THE “MOLTO SOSTENUTO” SECTION: “DJILILE” AND THE “ELCHO ISLAND LAMENT” ................... 156 Harmonization and Internal Structure ............................................................................................... 156 Broader Structure............................................................................................................................... 160 Suggested Hermeneutic ...................................................................................................................... 161

4-4. THE “DR. PAPPER” THEME.............................................................................................................. 162 Harmonization.................................................................................................................................... 162 Suggested Hermeneutic ...................................................................................................................... 164

4-5. THE “ESTATICO” MELODY.............................................................................................................. 167 Harmonization.................................................................................................................................... 167 Structure............................................................................................................................................. 171 Phase Techniques............................................................................................................................... 171 Suggested Hermeneutic ...................................................................................................................... 175

4-6. THE LARGER FORM IN PERSPECTIVE ............................................................................................... 177

CHAPTER 5: FROM KAKADU .............................................................................................................. 179

5-1. THE HEREDITY OF A GUITAR SOLO ................................................................................................. 179 5-2. ASSIMILATING THE “LAMENT”: SYMMETRY AND THE IN-SCALE ..................................................... 184 5-3. THE “6THS” MOTIVE, THE “WOOLHARRA” MUSIC, AND SONIC UNITY IN THE “GRAVE” ................ 189 5-4. MOTIVIC UNITY .............................................................................................................................. 195

Intensity: The “Grave” and the “Misterioso” ................................................................................... 195 Rapturous Contentment: The “Comodo” and the “Cantando”......................................................... 197 Familial Resemblances ...................................................................................................................... 197

5-5. REPETITION AND VARIATION AS PROCESS ...................................................................................... 201 5-6. REPETITION AND FORM ................................................................................................................... 203

First Movement. ................................................................................................................................. 203 Second Movement............................................................................................................................... 203 Third Movement. ................................................................................................................................ 205 Fourth Movement. .............................................................................................................................. 207 The Work as a Whole ......................................................................................................................... 207

5-7. THE QUESTION OF TONALITY/TONAL CENTRICITY ......................................................................... 208

CHAPTER 6: INTO THE DREAMING ................................................................................................. 214

6-1. A BACKGROUND AND OVERVIEW ................................................................................................... 214 6-2. CENTRICITY AND TONAL PROCESS IN THE PIÙ MOSSO: A MUSICAL LANGUAGE ............................. 217 6-3. TONALITY AND FORM IN THE LENTO SECTIONS .............................................................................. 223 6-4. A FITTING END ............................................................................................................................... 233

CHAPTER 7: CONCLUSION................................................................................................................ 236

APPENDIX ............................................................................................................................................... 242

HOW TO FIND A PARTICULAR PASSAGE IN TROPIC AND THE VISIONS OF CAPTAIN QUIROS...................... 242 CORRESPONDENCES IN TROPIC................................................................................................................ 243 CORRESPONDENCES IN THE VISIONS OF CAPTAIN QUIROS........................................................................ 244

BIBLIOGRAPHY .................................................................................................................................... 246

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LIST OF TABLES

TABLE 1-1. WORKS CONTAINING THE THEME OF SONG OF TAILITNAMA ...................................................... 33 TABLE 1-2. WORKS CONTAINING THE “ELCHO ISLAND LAMENT”............................................................... 36 TABLE 1-3. WORKS CONTAINING “DJILILE” ............................................................................................... 39 TABLE 1-4. WORKS CONTAINING THE “TORRES STRAIT DANCE-SONG” ..................................................... 40 TABLE 1-5. WORKS CONTAINING THE “ESTATICO” MELODY ...................................................................... 41 TABLE 2-1. SCULTHORPE’S GUITAR WORKS (CURRENTLY AVAILABLE)..................................................... 50 TABLE 2-2. OTHER GUITAR WORKS BY SCULTHORPE (UNAVAILABLE) ...................................................... 50 TABLE 3-1. A FORMAL OUTLINE OF NOURLANGIE. (“BR.” = BRIDGE) .......................................................... 76 TABLE 3-2. SONORITIES IN MANGROVE, “CON TENERREZZA”.................................................................... 107 TABLE 3-3. FORMAL OUTLINE OF THE VISIONS OF CAPTAIN QUIROS.......................................................... 110 TABLE 3-4. OCTATONIC THEMES IN THE VISIONS OF CAPTAIN QUIROS ...................................................... 112 TABLE 3-5. THE THREE OCTATONIC “TYPES” ........................................................................................... 113 TABLE 3-6. USE OF THE “YEARNING” THEME IN THE VISIONS OF CAPTAIN QUIROS ................................... 121 TABLE 3-7. THE PRINCIPAL THEMES OF QUIROS AND THEIR HARMONIC DERIVATION ............................... 128 TABLE 4-1. TONALITY IN THE “MOLTO SOSTENUTO” SECTION OF TROPIC ................................................ 159 TABLE 4-2. MINIMALIST LAYERING IN THE “MOLTO SOSTENUTO” SECTION OF TROPIC ........................... 160 TABLE 4-3. A SHORT FORMAL OUTLINE OF TROPIC (SCS = “SET-CLASSES”) ............................................ 177 TABLE 5-1. THE USE OF MUSICAL MATERIAL FROM THE VISIONS OF CAPTAIN QUIROS IN FROM KAKADU. 181 TABLE 5-2. REPETITIONS AND TRANSPOSITIONS OF MOTIVE X (E-F-E). .................................................... 186 TABLE 5-3. VERTICAL SONORITIES IN THE “GRAVE:” THEIR PREVALENCE AND TRICHORDAL SUBSETS. .. 191 TABLE 5-4. A FORMAL OUTLINE OF FROM KAKADU .................................................................................. 204 TABLE 5-5. TWO CHARACTERISTIC MELODIC STYLES............................................................................... 209 TABLE 5-6. THE UNDERLYING CHORDAL STRUCTURE OF THE SECOND MOVEMENT, “COMODO”............. 212 TABLE 6-1. PROCESSES OF HARMONIC CHANGE IN THE PIÙ MOSSO OF INTO THE DREAMING ..................... 220 TABLE 6-2. PITCH-CLASS AND SET-CLASS CONTENT IN STATEMENT NO.3 OF THE LENTO MELODY ......... 233

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LIST OF MUSICAL EXAMPLES Ex.1-1. An excerpt from The Song of Tailinama, for soprano and piano (1994) (earliest

version 1974), showing a vocal melody very clearly based on the in-scale, and in this case the notes of the hirajoshi tuning of the Koto, {E, F, A, B, C}…………16

Ex.1-2a. An excerpt of the Groote Eylandt melody transcribed by Trevor Jones as it

appears in Covell, Australia’s Music 326……………………………………….… 32 Ex.1-2b. An excerpt from Song of Tailitnama (version for soprano and piano, 1994),

showing Sculthorpe’s modification of the intervals of the Groote Eylandt melody (right-hand of piano) to conform to the Japanese in-scale {C, Db, F, G, Ab}: what would have been D natural becomes D flat………………………………………... 32

Ex.1-3. Showing the “Elcho Island Lament” [melody alone] as it appears in From

Kakadu, mm.1-14. Sculthorpe added the last four measures in order to give the tune a symmetry (the motive E-F-E is first transposed down a fourth (B-C-B) and then up a fourth in Sculthorpe’s addition (A-Bb-A))…………………………. 35

Ex.1-4. The Arnhem Land melody “Djilile” or “whistling duck on a billabong,” as it

appears in the work Djilile (and others), (see Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 207)……… 35 Ex.1-5. The identical pitch content and close motivic similarities between (a) the the

vocal melody from Song of Tailitnama, mm.26-40 (first written in 1974), and (b) the “Elcho Island Lament” as appears in From Kakadu, mm.1-6, are striking……………………………………………………………………………... 37

Plate 1. The information on this page, from the enthnomusicological study by Jaapp

Kunst, Music in New Guinea: Three Studies, transl. by Jeune Scott-Kemball, in Verhandelingen, Vol.53 (‘S. Gravenhage: Martinus Nijhoff, 1967), was Sculthorpe’s inspiration for the music of Simori…………...…………………….. 65

Ex.3-1. (a to d) Familial resemblances among motives in Nourlangie (and Quiros)……. 79 Ex.3-2. Nourlangie, mm.46-56, showing transition “y,” mm.52-55……………………… 81 Ex.3-3. Nourlangie, mm.199-207, showing the culmination of transition “y” (where

avant-garde instrumental techniques in imitations of massed flights of birds reach a climax), and the gradual sonic reentry of the guitar……………...…….…. 82

Ex.3-4. The transition from the “Misterioso” chords to the “Torres Strait Dance-Song,”

mm.11-13 of Nourlangie………………………………………………...……….. 85 Ex.3-5. The syntactical function of [0157] as “away” chord in Nourlangie, and its

use as a modulatory tool……………………………………………...…………… 87 Ex.3-6. The first manifestation of the “Torres Strait Dance-Song” in Nourlangie,

mm.(11)12-29, showing the pattern of phrase repetitions in the melody and the accompanying harmonic patterns (2 pages)…………………………………… 90

ix

Ex.3-7. A reduction in graphic notation of the first appearance of the “Torres Strait Dance-Song” from Nourlangie, mm.12-29, also showing a reduction of the changes of accompanying harmony. It does not aim to be strictly Schenkerian: stems indicate notes of structural importance; slurs show dependencies where N = neighbor, P = passing, CS = consonant skip, arp. = arpeggio; flagged notes show pitches of intermediate structural importance. The reduction of the accompaniment preserves the bass note but rearranges other pitches to the closest position above the bass…………………………………………………….. 92

Ex.3-8. The second manifestation of the “Torres Strait Dance-Song,” Nourlangie,

mm.(97)100-143(144), illustrating the accompanying harmonies. Labelled sets are for the accompaniment only--the melody contains additional pitches forming the pentatonic collection {C, D, E, G, A}. (4 pages)…………….………………. 94

Ex.3-9. A reduction in graphic notation of the second appearance of the “Torres Strait

Dance-Song” from Nourlangie, mm.100-143, showing a reduction of the accompanying harmonies. Notation is as outlined in the legend to Ex.3-7.…...…. 98

Ex.3-10. A comparison of the harmonic patterns in ostinati used to accompany

pentatonic melodies in Tropic (10a) and Nourlangie (10b)……...……………… 102 Ex.3-11. The use of intersecting pentatonic collections in Quiros, “Part III: The Pacific,”

mm.232-241: (i) collection {C, D, E, G, A} in the guitar melody, (ii) collection {F, G, A, C, D} in the accompanying instruments………………………………… 104

Ex.3-12. Possible antecedents for octatonicism in Mangrove (1979). The five principal

sonorities are labeled A, B, B’, C, and D……….………………...……………… 108 Ex.3-13a. The “6ths” motive: Quiros, mm.1-3 (octatonic type 2)…………………………… 108 Ex.3-13b. The “6ths” motive elaborated: Quiros, mm.35-40 (octatonic type 2)…………… 108 Ex.3-13c. The “6ths” motive: Quiros, mm.41-42 (hexatonic), and From Kakadu,

mm15-16 and 31-32……………………………………………………………… 108 Ex.3-14. The “Risoluto” theme: Nourlangie, mm.56-65 (octatonic type 2). Aberrant

pitches are circled (N = neighbor, P = passing)………..……………….…………. 116 Ex.3-15. Excerpt from the “Risoluto” theme with accompanying ostinati: Nourlangie,

mm.78-81 (octatonic type 2)………………………………………………………. 116 Ex.3-16. Excerpt from the “Risoluto” theme transposed up a perfect fourth: Nourlangie,

mm.277-284 (octatonic type 3, excepting A natural). The primitivist fury of the octatonic chords in pizzicato strings recalls Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring….….. 117

Ex.3-17a. Motive “y” in a short transition linking statements of the “Risoluto” theme:

Quiros, mm.(80)81-82(83) (octatonic type 3, except C natural). It accomplishes a modulation of octatonic types……………………………………………………. 119

Ex.3-17b. Segments of motive “y” used in Nourlangie, mm.(67)72-77(81). It

accomplishes a modulation of octatonic types…………………………………… 120

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Ex.3-18. The “Yearning” theme and its genesis from motive “y”: Quiros, mm.149-158

(octatonic type 3, except C natural)…………………………………………..……. 122 Ex.3-19. The similarities of the “Yearning” theme and the “6ths” motive (the

expressive descending minor sixth) are brought to light: Quiros, mm.365-368… 122 Ex.3-20. The “Holy Spirit” theme, guitar part only: Quiros, mm.379-394 (octatonic

type 3, except F# and A)…………………………………………………………… 124 Ex.3-21. Underlying harmonies of the “Holy Spirit” theme demonstrate the decorative

nature of the pitches F# and A: Quiros, mm.427-436…………………………… 125 Ex.3-22a. Excerpt from the “Parallel Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” theme: Nourlangie,

mm.174-176 (octatonic type 1)…………………………………………………….. 127 Ex.3-22b. Excerpt from the “Parallel Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” theme: Quiros,

mm.421-422 (octatonic type 1, except the last dyad)……………………………… 127 Ex.3-23. The “Wailing” motive: Nourlangie, mm.184-191 (octatonic type 1, except

mm.188-189)……………………………………………………………………….. 127 Ex.3-24. The “Misterioso” chords at the opening of Nourlangie, mm.(2)4-11………..……. 130 Ex.3-25. A keyboard reduction of mm.4-7 of Nourlangie, with pitches not belonging

to the octatonic set (type 3) circled………………………………………………… 132 Ex.3-26. The germinal idea for the first half of the “Misterioso” chords: the guitar

part of Quiros, mm.103-110. M1 and M2 are denotative symbols……………….. 132 Ex.3-27. The genesis of the second half of the “Misterioso” chords: Quiros,

mm.209-223 (2 pages). M3 is a denotative symbol………………………………. 135 Ex.3-28. Further development of M3 and the introduction of M4: Quiros, mm.356-360…... 137 Ex.3-29. A Comparison of the three main versions of the “Misterioso” chords with small

differences indicated. Decorative pitches are circled and chords M1, M2, M3, and M4 are labeled appropriately. 2 pages………………………………...……… 140

Ex.3-30. A voice-leading reduction in graphic notation (showing two levels of reduction)

of the “Misterioso” chords as they appear in the guitar part of Nourlangie, mm.176-183. The decorative function of chords other than M1, M2, M3, and M4 is illustrated………………………………………………..………………….. 142

Ex.3-31. The superimposition of the “Parallel Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” theme and the

“Wailing” motive as counterpoint to the “Misterioso” chords: Nourlangie, mm.184-192. The tetrachord E-G-Bb-Db is the structural backbone (the common tones of octatonic types 1 and 3). Pitches functioning decoratively are circled………………………………………………………………………….. 144

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Ex.3-32. Appearances of the “Parallel Maj.6ths/Dim 7ths” theme over a simple harmonic backdrop, so as to clearly show the decorative function of circled pitches: Nourlangie, mm.(169)170-175(177)……………………………………… 147

Ex.3-33. Clearly showing the decorative function of circled pitches in the “Parallel

Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” theme: Quiros, mm.415ff…………………………………… 148 Ex.4-1. The “Lontano” melody, mm.1-12 of Tropic, based on a Torres Strait Island

children’s song. Bitonal conflict results from the superimposition of the major pentatonic melody over a F#major/minor chord……………………………..152

Ex.4-2. [0157] set-classes comprised of two stacked fourths and a neighbor note in an

excerpt derived from the “Elcho Island Lament.” (guitar and bass, mm.61-62 of Tropic)………………………………………………………………………….. 153

Ex.4-3. Mm.13-32 of Tropic, showing one and a half statements of the melody Djilile

(based on an Aboriginal melody) and one interpolation derived from the “Elcho Island Lament.” The cellular construction of Djilile is also indicated……………. 157

Ex.4-4. A non-Schenkerian reduction in graphic notation of the “Dr Papper” theme,

mm.52-92 of Tropic, illustrating the ornamental function of melodic chromaticism and the static underlying harmonic structures. Both melody and harmony are built upon the bare fifth A-E. The melody exploits mixture in its oscillation between C and C#, and F and F#………………………………………..…………. 163

Ex.4-5. The “Dr Papper” theme, mm.52-92 of Tropic, showing the repetition of small

phrases in a network (tree-diagram) of nested binary structures, and an overall palindromic form. Note that in transcribing the Bb clarinet part to concert pitch, I have chosen enharmonic equivalents that best reflect the harmonic function of pitches…………………………………………………………………………… 165

Ex.4-6. A tree diagram illustrating the network of nested binary structures in the

“Dr Papper” theme, as shown in Ex.5……………………………………………. 166 Ex.4-7. The harmonic setting of the “Estatico” melody. The melody is based on the

pentatonic collection {D, E, F#, A, B}. The harmonies cycle through three trichords used in an isorhythmic ostinato in the first guitar part…………………. 168

Ex.4-8. Mm.(198)199-207 of Tropic, illustrating the modified harmonic setting of the

“Estatico” melody (now D-centric), and the use of phase-techniques on multiple levels in first guitar, percussion, and bass…………………………………………..170

Ex.4-9. The “Estatico” theme, violin mm.(113)114-139 of Tropic--based on a Torres

Strait Island melody--and its two variations (subsequently repeated with the addition of a countermelody)………………………………………………………..172

Ex.5-1. The Opening of Kakadu, mm.1-9, demonstrating the clear C-centricity of the

melody in this setting (essentially allowing the repetitions of the reciting-tone C to tonicize itself by assertion). Thsi can be contrasted with the setting in From Kakadu, seen in Ex.5-4, which has an E reciting-tone but clear A-centricity……………………………………………………………………….. 180

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Ex.5-2. A comparison of the adaptations of a Torres Strait Island melody in “Cantando”

from From Kakadu (b), with the earlier version used in Songs of Sea and Sky (a) (for Bb clarinet)………………………………………………………………… 182

Ex.5-3. The original Torres Strait melody behind the “Cantando” of From Kakadu, as

collected by Jeremy Beckett in the 1960s. Taken from Traditional Music of Torres Strait [sound recording], compiled by Jeremy Beckett, musical analysis and transcriptions by Trevor A. Jones, (Canberra: Australian Institute of Aboriginal Studies, 1981)………………………………………………………… 183

Ex.5-4. Showing the setting of the “Elcho Island Lament” in From Kakadu, “Grave,”

mm.1-16. The analytical overlay illustrates the following: (1) the motivic repetitions of the melody (in particular, the repetitions of motive x-- comprising the pitches E-F-E), and (2) the vertical sonorities utilized (labelled A, B, C, D, and E)…………………………………………………………185

Ex.5-5. The symmetry evident in the opening quartal sonority (a) and how this precisely

mirrors the formal symmetry inherant within the motivic repetitions of the melody (b)………………………………………………………………………….. 187

Ex.5-6. The symmetrical interlocking [0156] set-classes inherant within the structural

pitch content of the “Elcho Island Lament”--the pitches of the quartal backbone and their respective upper semitone auxillaries……………………………………. 187

Ex.5-7a. The hexatonic pitch content of the “6ths” motive as it appears in From

Kakadu, “Grave”, mm.15-16 and 31-32…………………………………………… 192 Ex.5-7b. A reduction of the “6ths” motive as seen in the codetta of the “Grave”, From

Kakadu, mm.37-44. It shows the layered construction or overlapping chromatic neighbors, in which the hexatonic-derived dyads are the structural backbone……. 192

Ex.5-8. From Kakadu, “Grave”, mm. 34-48. This shows the end of the “Woolharra”

music and the codetta, based on an elaboration of the “6ths” motive. Vertical sonorities are also indicated……………………………………………………….. 193

Ex.5-9. A comparison of the use of the “Woolharra” chord [0145] in the Sonatina

(a), mm.1-3, with its use in From Kakadu (b), mm.33-36. Both show the alternation of [0145] with [0148] sonorities………………………..……………… 194

Ex.5-10. The third movement, “Misterioso”, showing the composing-out of the

palindromic and inversionally symmetrical underlying skeleton: Bb-D going to A-Eb going to Bb-D…………………………………………………………….. 196

Ex.5-11. “Comodo,” mm.49-68, showing the typically Sculthorpian technique of

“growth through accretion.”……………………………………………………….. 198 Ex.5-12. “Cantando,” mm.123-134, showing the melody based on a Torres Strait

Island tune, and its superimposition over a variant of the “Comodo” music……… 199

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Ex.5-13. Familial resemblances in From Kakadu, showing how the basic neighboring motions of the “Elcho Island Lament” appear in mutated guises throughout the work………………………………………………………………………….… 200

Ex.5-14. “Comodo” mm.69-90, showing additive processes from mm.73-80 and

subtractive processes from mm.81-86…………………………………………..…. 206 Ex.5-15. A reduction of the pitch content of “Comodo,” mm.49-58, revealing the

underlying tonal progressions in D major………………………………………….. 211 Ex.6-1. The Piu mosso section, mm.(60)61-98, showing the set-class associated with

each sub-phrase…………………………………………………………………….. 218 Ex.6-2. A comparison of the three statements of the Lento melody, mm.1-30, 31-60,

and 99-128, vertically aligned so as to make clear their subtle differences………. 224 Ex.6-3. A theoretical prototype for the Lento melody (involving rhythmic simplification)

showing clearly the patterns of sub-phrases used in its construction…………….. 226 Ex.6.-4a-e. Symmetrical pitch constructions and uses of the pentatonic collection

{F, G, A, C, D}…………………………………………………………………… 230 Ex.6-5. A reduction in graphic notation (in two levels) of the second statement of

the Lento melody, mm.31-59, showing voice-leading procedures. It does not aim to be strictly Schenkerian: stems indicate notes of structural importance; slurs show dependencies where N = neighbor, P = passing, CS = consonant skip, arp. = arpeggio; flagged notes show pitches of intermediate structural importance…………………………………………………………………………. 231

Ex.6-6. Mm.99-145, showing the final statement of the Lento melody and the Coda….….. 234

1

CHAPTER 1: An Historical, Philosophical, and Stylistic Overview

1-1. Biographical Background

Peter Sculthorpe was born in Launceston, Tasmania, in 1929. He was a precocious child

who composed from an early age in a style that grew out of the English pastoral tradition

of Delius and Vaughan Williams.1 He then went on to study at the University of

Melbourne from 1946 to1951, earning the degree Bachelor of Music. During this time,

he experimented with more modernist, twelve-tone and even totally serial styles (this was

done through the use of Ernst Krenek’s book Studies in Counterpoint for he apparently

had little or no access to scores by Schoenberg, Berg and Webern and only limited access

to recordings). Due to adverse reactions from players, musicians, and his teachers,

Sculthorpe continued to compose simultaneously in a more tonal idiom,2 and it would

seem that he himself quickly lost interest in his early avant-garde experiments. From

1951 to 1958 Sculthorpe held a variety of different employments, including music

teaching, managing a hunting and fishing shop in Tasmania, and composing music for

theater in Canberra and Sydney.

In 1958, the composer received a scholarship to study overseas. He chose to

enroll at Wadham College (Oxford University) for the degree of D.Phil, but his studies

there with Edmund Rubbra and Egon Wellesz were not especially fruitful. The efforts of

Wellesz, in particular, to convince the young composer to abandon non-serial

composition were not well received. However, the experience of being an expatriate in a

foreign land (even if it was England, which many older Australians still consider “the

mother country”) seems to have awakened in him a new awareness of his Australian

1 Deborah Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1993), 12-13.

2 Michael Hannan, Peter Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas (St Lucia, London, New York:

University of Queensland Press, 1982), 28-29.

2

identity. Moreover, Oxford seems to have provided the intellectual framework in the

formation of Sculthorpe’s musical philosophies. It was here that Sculthorpe acquired a

new confidence and maturity in his compositional style, despite the fact that he never

completed the doctorate. Increasingly, he strove to create a uniquely Australian musical

sound.

Sculthorpe returned to Australia in 1961 on the death of his father. In 1963 he

was appointed to the post of lecturer in music at the University of Sydney. Since that

time, Sculthorpe has been an immensely influential figure on the Australian musical

landscape. He has taught a generation of eminent Australian composers, such as Ross

Edwards and Anne Boyd, and has achieved remarkable public recognition and

popularity. His name has become somewhat of a national icon and he has been

recognized with countless awards and civic honors, including honorary doctorates, the

Order of the British Empire, Order of Australia, and the distinction of being elected an

Australian National Living Treasure.

Some of Sculthorpe’s most significant early works include his Irkanda series

(“Irkanda” being an Aboriginal word for a remote and lonely place) and his Sun Music

series. The latter series utilized avant-garde textural effects in a vivid pictorial depiction

of the Australian landscape. In later years, Sculthorpe took much inspiration from the

music of Asia (Japan and Indonesia in particular), and from Australian Aboriginal

culture. However, it is the Australia landscape itself that is most often Sculthorpe’s

primary inspiration. For example, some dozen of his works in the late 1980s and early

1990s concern themselves with one particular region of Australia, Kakadu National Park.

Among his most significant works are his orchestral pieces Port Essington (1977),

Mangrove (1979), and Kakadu (1988), and also the opera Rites of Passage (1972-73).

3

1-2. The Forging of an Australian Style: Myth or Reality?

The task of pinpointing aspects of Sculthorpe’s style that can be considered truly

Australian is a felicitous one. Nobody has accomplished the gargantuan task of

conducting an empirical survey of Australian music in order to extract recurring

characteristics that would appear to be prototypical. Furthermore, the question as to

whether there truly is an Australian style--one unified by common recurring stylistic

features--remains open to debate.

It would be fair to say, however, that until quite recently (at least through the

1950s and early 1960s) many Australian composers largely continued the conservative

colonial tendency to slavishly imitate European trends--albeit decades behind the times.

This was something that Sculthorpe strove consciously to overcome in his quest to create

a uniquely Australian sound--a quest that became pivotal to his entire career. In the mid

twentieth-century there was no clearly perceived Australian musical identity. Sculthorpe

was a pioneer who set himself the task of creating an answer to this problem, creating

what became arguably the answer.

Sculthorpe’s efforts to carve out a uniquely Australian style began with a

deliberate effort to shake free of the neo-romantic, pastoral musical language that

predominated in Australia for so long. But in the late 1950s, when Sculthorpe was

coming of age as a composer (and especially during his studies at Oxford), there was also

considerable pressure to conform to the winds of high modernism. Sculthorpe writes that

he “was expected by [his] contemporaries at Oxford to write music that sounded like

Boulez or Stockhausen.”3 This was the era in which the young Boulez declared that “all

non-serial composers are useless.”4 Many composers at this time (along with Boulez)

3 Peter Sculthorpe, Sun Music: Journey’s and Reflections from a Composer’s Life (Adelaide: Griffin Press, 1999), 48.

4 Pierre Boulez, “Schoenberg is Dead,” in Stocktakings from an Apprenticeship, collected and

presented by Paule Thévenin, translated from the French by Stephen Walsh (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991), 214. The article “Schoenberg est mort” was originally published in English (with the French title) in The Score 6 (Feb 1952): 18-22.

4

were pursuing integral serialism with the vision that this was the musical language of the

future. But Sculthorpe sought out a different path, taking what was useful to him in the

avant-garde and ignoring the rest (he has, for example, made use of certain techniques

from the music of Penderecki and Ligeti, and has dabbled in serialized pitch structures

when it suits his purposes). Neither conservative nor revolutionary, Sculthorpe sought

renewal through the revival of melodic and rhythmic elements found in more ancient

cultural sources in the Asia-Pacific region5 (which is not to say that composers more

central to the avant-garde didn’t also, in their own way, take influence from music of this

region). His deliberate exploitation of these influences was also made with intent to

underscore Australia’s geographical remoteness from Europe. Similarly remarkable have

been his efforts to formulate a musical idiom evocative of the Australian landscape itself.

However, such strategies are arguably subjective in effect. For example, is there

really anything particularly Australian about Japanese Gagaku--a big influence on

Sculthorpe’s music--other than that Japan lies closer to Australia than does Europe? And

what has geographical proximity to do with cultural identity? Well, there is a certain

relevance here in that Australian artists are always acutely aware of their physical

isolation from European culture. Paradoxically, Australian artists often try to be

essentially European yet different at the same time. Arguably, Sculthorpe’s adoption of

5 See Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 17. These ideas stem from the work of

Wilfred Mellers (a close personal friend of Sculthorpe), particularly in his monograph Caliban Reborn: Renewal in Twentieth-Century Music (London: Victor Gollancz, 1967). In the words of Hayes apt summary, “Mellers explains . . . that twentieth-century western European music has found much-needed spiritual renewal through a revival of melodic and rhythmic elements--music’s ‘universal’ elements--that were lost or discarded in Europe’s post-Renaissance “heroic” period, as the element of harmony became of prime importance; an emphasis on harmony reflected a concern with ‘consciousness and the will’ which led to ‘spiritual impoverishment.’” The characterization of various types of non-Western music as melodic and rhythmic has become a sensitive issue in recent times, however, due to the implication that they are also devoid of harmony. Obviously, non-Western music doesn’t employ Western functional harmony, but the word “harmony” can also be applied to alternate systems of tonal organization found in the music of other cultures. The principal point here is simply that in Western music, the use of melody and corporeal rhythm (for an explanation of this refer to page 17 of this text) went out of fashion--for a time. In this sense, Sculthorpe was swimming “against the flow.” He renewed these elements in his own music through the influence of non-Western sources.

5

Asian influences is a deliberate expression of this “difference.” This thinly veiled rebel

attitude was laid bare in Sculthorpe’s inflammatory remarks to the London Times in

1966, in which he stated that “Europe is the past”6 --also implying that Asia is the future.

As if a surrogate for Australia, Asia helped define Sculthorpe’s music as distinctly non-

European.7 Moreover, Sculthorpe’s use of Asian influence is more than mere exoticism:

it becomes a defining ingredient in his style.

Some observers have argued that there is a fictional element in Sculthorpe’s

purported Australian style. As his autobiography often implicitly reveals, Sculthorpe is a

skilled publicist and has on occasion fed the public what could almost be considered

propaganda. Underscoring this notion, the critic Peter McCallum argues that “the oft-

asserted notion that the absence of large melodic intervals in [Sculthorpe’s] music and

the simplicity of his textures in some way relates to the flatness of the Australian

landscape, an idea endorsed by the composer, seems to me to be myth-making at its most

willful.”8 Yet we need not doubt the composer’s sincerity in order to recognize that some

claims should be taken with caution. We can both affirm their personal relevance for

Sculthorpe while simultaneously questioning their usefulness as guides to the stylistic

description and analysis of his music.

Curiously, due to Sculthorpe’s fame and renown, his ideas concerning the

identity of Australian music have arguably become self-actualizing truths. What might

have begun as propaganda actually then becomes reality. Today, Sculthorpe’s name is

almost synonymous with Australian music. For example, the Autumn 1992 edition of

6 See David Wright, “Cry of the Earth,” Musical Times 133 (July 1992): 339. Also see Peter Sculthorpe, Sun Music: Journey’s and Reflections from a Composer’s Life (Adelaide: Griffin Press, 1999), 88.

7 The use of the word “surrogate” appears in Andrew Ford, “As Simple As That: Peter

Sculthorpe,” Composer to Composer: Conversations About Contemporary Music (Great Britain: Quarter Books, 1993), 42.

8 Peter McCallum, "Peter Sculthorpe: Earth Cry, Kakadu, Mangrove, Irkanda IV," Sounds

Australian 27 (Spring 1990): 35.

6

Sounds Australian contains a humorous article on the composer entitled "State of

Euphoria Year 12 Certificate" in which the reader is instructed to write an essay on the

history of Australian music mentioning at least one composer other than Peter

Sculthorpe.9 The joke lies in the fact that few people (outside of professional musicians)

know the name of any other Australian composer. Indeed, the composer has encouraged

this image of himself as the essential Australian composer.10 Consequently, with this

iconic status, when Sculthorpe declares a quality of his music as peculiarly Australian he

cannot be too far wrong because his music has become--by definition--the very archetype

of Australian composition.

Perhaps one reason for Sculthorpe’s resounding success in the hearts of the

Australian public is that he has created a musical aesthetic that is more egalitarian and

more democratic than the one prevailing in much of the “New Music” scene in Europe or

the United States. Sculthorpe has been totally unashamed to be blatantly populist at

times, such as in the work Love 200 which was a huge popular success but drew “hearty

disapproval” from critics.11 Akin to the Gebrauchsmusik of Hindemith or Weill during

the Weimar republic, Sculthorpe’s music combines the best of the Western art music

tradition with a more populist approach.

Sculthorpe’s compositional aesthetic also purges music of excessive

Romanticisms such as the notion of the hero, and the evocation of extreme emotional or

mental states--which continued to be propagated within much European music this

century.12 Such experiences are largely foreign to Australians in their charmed middle-

9 Benjamin Thorn, "Bent Perspectives: State of Euphoria Year Twelve Certificate, Australian

Music Examination," Sounds Australian 33 (Autumn 1992): 4 10 See, for example, the interview between Sculthorpe and Michael Hannan, "Rites of Passage,"

Music Now II, No.22 (Dec 1974): 14. 11 Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 26. 12 Michael Hannan, "Peter Sculthorpe," in Australian Composition in the Twentieth Century, ed.

Frank Callaway and David Tunley (Melbourne: Oxford University Press, 1978), 136 and 139.

7

class lives of comparative domestic simplicity and peace. The composer remarks that

"Australia is one of the few places on earth where one can honestly write straightforward,

joyful music."13 This is coupled with an irrepressibly optimistic spirit, a quality that has

only become clearer in recent years as the composer ages. In his autobiography,

Sculthorpe recalls a conversation he had with the Polish composer Henryk Gorecki at a

music festival in Wales.14 Gorecki apparently grumbled forebodingly, remarking that

“after bad, there is worse.” Sculthorpe reportedly responded, “Come on Henryk, after

good there’s better,” to which Gorecki replied “Well, perhaps for you, coming from that

big shining island in the south, after good there is better. For us here, after bad, there is

only worse.” Sculthorpe’s fervent optimism seems to touch the hearts of a nation that

has still not forgotten that it considers itself in folk mythology to be “the lucky country.”

If there is a spirit of suffering in the Australian psyche, perhaps it is only in

relation to the power of the landscape. In a work such as Port Essington (1977) one can

see this suffering, the futile attempts of a colony for survival in a hostile environment

(the Port Essington colony was a complete failure and was finally abandoned).

In his autobiography, Sculthorpe also compares his approach to that of

Schoenberg, who once said “I write what I feel in my heart.” He also notes one critic’s

response found in Nicholas Slonimsky’s Lexicon of Musical Invective. It states, “if this

is so, we can only assume that from 1908 or so, Schoenberg has been suffering from

some unclassified and peculiarly virulent form of cardiac disease.” By contrast,

Sculthorpe writes “I feel today that I’m morally bound to attempt to write music that

uplifts the human spirit.”15

13 Wright, “Cry of the Earth,” 341. 14 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 271. 15 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 271-72.

8

Sculthorpe’s renewal efforts have entailed a reaffirmation of the importance of

melody and corporeal rhythm. In so doing, his style has become very accessible to a

broad audience. It is Sculthorpe's personal opinion that Australian music should be

identifiable to ordinary Australians.16 But this has gone hand in hand with much

criticism, perhaps stemming from the typically Australian “tall poppy syndrome”--the

cultural tendency to be critical of high achievers in an attempt to cut them down to size.17

But the criticism itself is understandable in that there is the obvious temptation to

associate immediate appeal with superficiality--albeit incorrectly in this case--

particularly among the musical academia which traditionally values structural

complexity.18 This dilemma is aptly expressed by Fred Blanks after a performance of

Sculthorpe’s Tabuh Tabuhan, who writes that “the ethos of modern art has, sad to relate,

conditioned us to distrust anything we like on first encounter” in a review entitled

“VIVA! This Was Electrifying.”19 What a contrast this review makes with certain others,

such as that by London critic Andrew Porter, describing the same work as “lucky not to

be laughed off the stage.”20 The difference was that the London performance occurred at

a festival of avant-garde music, surrounded by all-pervading atonality. As Andrew Ford

notes, Sculthorpe’s music is aesthetically but not technically naïve.21

16 Hannan, “Peter Sculthorpe,” in Australian Composition, 136 and 139. See also Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 26.

17 Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 3. 18 David Matthews, "Peter Sculthorpe At 60," Tempo 170 (Sept 1989): 17. See also Hannan,

"Peter Sculthorpe," Australian Composition, 136 and 139. 19 Fred Blanks, “VIVA! This Was Electrifying,” Sydney Morning Herald (14 Oct, 1970). Quoted

in Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 27. 20 Andrew Porter, “Incredible Floridas,” Financial Times (7 June 1971). Sculthorpe also quotes

this excerpt in a brief reception history of Tabuh Tabuhan in his autobiography, Sun Music, 173-174. Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, also quotes this excerpt in her annotation, page 190. Hayes’ bio-bibliography also lists numerous other reviews of the work (listed on page 53) which give it glowing praise.

21 Andrew Ford, “As Simple As That: Peter Sculthorpe,” 39. See also Ford, “Peter Sculthorpe at

Sixty,” in Speaking of Music: A Selection of Talks from ABC Radio by Eminent Musicians, Composer and

9

If any patterns could be drawn in the post-modern musical world (which

overwhelming exhibits divergent trends), it would probably be two primary tendencies:

the assimilation and collage of diverse styles, and a blurring of the boundaries between

high-art and low-art (between the populist and the elitist). In view of these trends,

Sculthorpe could be said to epitomize the post-modern composer. Drawing together an

eclectic potpourri of musical influences, Sculthorpe has created a unique musical idiom;

one with its own distinctive melodic style, tonal style, and techniques for forming larger

structures. It is a music in which (as David Matthews puts it) "European, Asian and

Aboriginal elements continue happily to coexist."22

1-3. The Importance of the Landscape

The landscape of the Australian outback is one of the country’s most unusual and

distinctive features. So it is only natural that an Australian composer looking to create an

overtly Australian art would look to the landscape itself for inspiration. Indeed, a great

number of Sculthorpe’s works are programmatic and are intended to evoke the natural

environment. For instance, the works in Sculthorpe’s Irkanda series portray the sense of

lonely desolation experienced by European settlers in outback Australia (and also many

contemporary Australians). As stated earlier, “Irkanda” is an Aboriginal word meaning a

remote and lonely place.23 The pieces in the Sun Music series are directly evocative of

the harshness of the climate, the conditions and effects associated with the intensity of

the Australian sun.24 Sculthorpe’s more recent works reflect a noticeable shift in attitude Conductors ed. Jan Balodis and Tony Cane (Sydney: ABC Enterprises, 1990), 186-209.

22 Matthews, "Peter Sculthorpe At 60," 17. 23 Wilfred Mellers, “New Worlds. Old Wildernesses: Peter Sculthorpe and the Ecology of Music,”

The Atlantic 268/2 (Aug 1991): 94-98. 24 Sculthorpe, in “I Don’t Like Overtures,” Masque (Dec 1968): 33, describes the sun as a double-

sided force, a “symbol of the giving of life, destroying of life, good and god” (an excerpt quoted in Hannan, Peter Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas, 18). This duality is also seen in Sculthorpe’s portrayals of the landscape.

10

towards the environment. This new attitude is reminiscent of that widely felt to have

characterized the Australian Aboriginal before the invasion of colonial Britain (at least,

in the idealized view of popular culture and contemporary politics): a state of mind in

perfect harmony with the landscape, in awe of its power, but appreciative of its delicate

beauty.

In the works of the Sun Music series, Sculthorpe developed a vivid, pictorial

style, utilizing avant-garde textural effects along the lines of the music of Ligeti and

Penderecki, including dissonant clusters, aleatoric distribution of noises, and unusual

instrumental techniques such as the percussive use of conventional instruments. Since

then, onomatopoetic devices that imitate the sounds of native fauna have become a

distinctive Sculthorpe fingerprint (sounds of frogs, birds, and insects). Bird noises are

particular frequent, as in the orchestral pieces Mangrove and Kakadu. They also appear

in the guitar works such as the concerto Nourlangie and the chamber work Tropic. The

semiotic significance of these devices in signifying something uniquely Australian is

aptly phrased by Michael Hannan, who writes that “apart from the Australian accent, the

languages and music of the Aborigines and the cries of birds and insects, Australia has

few sounds which she can claim as her very own.”25 Sculthorpe’s use of bird sounds is

poles apart from that of Messiaen, however. His birds do not chirp lyrically but

characteristically create a raucous din. The composer writes that in most of his music

“whenever I’ve used birds . . . it’s more to get a feeling of birds flying; it’s more like a

massed flight of birds, singing, chirping, screaming, and screeching” often through the

use of avant-garde textural effects (see for instance, chapter 3, Ex.3-3).26 The only

25 Hannan, Peter Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas, 76. 26 Therese Wassily Saba, “Peter Sculthorpe: Australian Composer,” Classical Guitar 9 (April

1991): 15.

11

specific bird sound that Sculthorpe recreates is that of the seagull, used to create a sense

of place by the sea and a sense of tranquillity, as in the work Tropic.

In the late eighties and early nineties, a large number of Sculthorpe’s works were

written about special locations within the Northern Territory. In particular, many works

focus on the world famous Kakadu National Park (featured prominently in films such as

Crocodile Dundee). One could even talk of a “Kakadu period” in Sculthorpe’s oeuvre,

including such works as Kakadu [orchestral](1988), Nourlangie [guitar concerto](1989),

String Quartet No.11 or Jabiru Dreaming (1990), Little Nourlangie [organ concerto]

(1990), Nangaloar [orchestral](1991), Threnody [solo cello](1991-92), Dream Tracks

and Tropic [small ensemble](1992), From Kakadu (1993), From Nourlangie [many

different versions](1993-94), and others. The guitar piece Into the Dreaming concerns

another famous Australian landmark--that of Ayers Rock or Uluru, also a world-

renowned national park in the Northern Territory. Featured prominently on postcards as

a symbol of Australia, Uluru is a giant red monolith at the center of the continent.27

As mentioned previously, Sculthorpe ventures to suggest that his music reflects

the landscape in more abstract ways. In particular, repetition and variation in his music

is supposedly inspired by a certain flatness and monotony in the Australian landscape

itself. Of the Australian bush, journalist John Douglas Pringle writes: The middle distance often looks monotonous and featureless. The beauty of the Australian bush lies more in the sense of space and distance, combined with strange and vivid detail.28

27 For the benefit of U.S. readers, I wish to point out that Uluru is not the rock in question in Joan

Lindsay’s classic novel, Picnic at Hanging Rock, which is set at a fictional outcrop in the cooler climate of Victoria (the most south-east state).

28 John Douglas Pringle, Australian Accent (London, 1960): 31. This excerpt comes from a larger

quotation that appears in Hannan, Peter Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas, 13. The precise quotation given here appears in Wright, "Cry of the Earth," 340. See also, Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 200 and 260 for instances of the composer making the connection between the flatness of the landscape and repetition in Australian music.

12

Sculthorpe’s own brand of minimalism has been dubbed "growth by accretion."29 The

repetition of small cells, which are gradually varied over time, results in a homogeneity

over broader time spans that parallels the peculiar quality of the Australian landscape

which Hannan describes as "spaciousness and terrifying sameness."30 Some of his music

simply develops over broad time-spans with a slow rate of harmonic change. Some

might think it absurd that these static and repetitive qualities relate in any way to the

landscape.31 But Sculthorpe is apparently not the only one to draw attention to these

ideas in his music--or in the music of some of his Australian colleagues, for that matter.

In his autobiography, he is quick to point out that internationally renowned composers

such as Tippett, Crumb, Lutoslawski, and Berio have suggested links between the

minimalist tendencies of some Australian music and the landscape.32 However, these

assertions, might cause some of us to ponder whether the propaganda machine has been

working overtime. Undoubtedly, these ideas possess a certain elegance and appeal, but

reason would argue that ultimately such claims remain conjectural. This

notwithstanding, the simple fact that Sculthorpe has articulated these ideas makes them

important and meaningful to his music. Even if we think it absurd, we know that

Sculthorpe had the landscape in mind in employing a slow rate of harmonic change (or

other minimalist techniques). In this way, the landscape becomes a sort of underlying

meta-program, implicit within almost all his music.

29 According to Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 17, this term was coined by

Wilfred Mellers, "New Worlds, Old Wildernesses: Peter Sculthorpe and the Ecology of Music," The Atlantic 268/2 (Aug 1991): 95. Hannan gives a more detailed explanation of the technique in “Peter Sculthorpe,” in Australian Composition, 137, although he doesn’t actually use the phrase. Sculthorpe also adopts the term in Sun Music, 68.

30 Hannan, “Peter Sculthorpe,” in Australian Composition, 142. 31

Peter McCallum, "Peter Sculthorpe: Earth Cry, Kakadu, Mangrove, Irkanda IV," Sounds Australian, No, 27 (Spring 1990): 35.

32 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 199.

13

Sculthorpe has also remarked on a certain flatness in melodic contour in much

Australian music, and particularly his own (the second movement of From Kakadu is an

ideal example). While his claims that this relates directly to the flatness of the Australian

landscape seem far-fetched, he has recently postulated a more indirect relationship with

the environment in suggesting that it relates to the flat intonation of the Australian

dialect. Australian English is well noted for a certain “flatness” of intonation, a

“deliberateness of delivery” and a “lack of excitability (as Michael Hannan puts it)”33

which parallels the melodic flatness that Sculthorpe sees in his own music, as well as in

Aboriginal music and Australian folk ballads.34 In his autobiography, Sculthorpe makes

reference to the eminent Australian historian, Manning Clark, who speculates that

environmental reasons (sun, heat, rain) are the ultimate cause of this quality of intonation

because they caused Australians to speak with their mouths barely open. Manning Clark maintained that this [flat intonation] was caused by speaking with the mouth barely half open: we daren’t open it farther ‘. . . lest the flies rush in.’35

1-4. Sculthorpe and Asia

In recent decades Australian composers have been significantly influenced by an

increasing awareness of the music of their Asian neighbors in the Pacific rim. Sculthorpe

cites the advice of Percy Grainger who advised the young composer to “look to the

North, to the Islands.”36 He also points to the example of another Australian composer,

33 Hannan, Peter Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas, 206 (chapter 2, footnote 5). Hannan also cites G. W. Turner, The English Language in Australia and New Zealand (London, 1966), 89-111, and Manning Clark, A Discovery of Australia, from the Boyer Lectures (Sydney: Australian Broadcasting Corporation, 1976), 20.

34 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 200. 35 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 200. Quoted from Manning Clark, A Short History of Australia

(Ringwood, Vic.: Australia: Penguin, 1995; but first published London: Heinemann, 1969). 36 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 275.

14

Peggy Glanville-Hicks.37 In the sixties, at a time when economic and political ties to the

region were being rapidly expanded, opening Australian ears to Asian music became

somewhat of a “cause.” Undoubtedly there was an element of anti-establishment

rebelliousness in this “cause” which related to the zeitgeist of the decade, particularly in

that it went against some of the entrenched prejudice and resentment leveled at the

Japanese in the aftermath of World War II. Moreover, it needs to be pointed out that

Australia, as a nation, had long been fearful of Asia, maintaining an anti-Asian

immigration policy for most of the twentieth-century (the so-called “white-Australia

policy”), the last vestiges of which were only finally removed in 1973.

Leading this wave of new interest in Asian music were Sculthorpe and his

colleague Richard Meale. Ethnomusicology was one of the subjects Sculthorpe taught at

the University of Sydney and he inspired many of his composition students to take

influence from Asian music (including Ross Edward, Barry Conyngham, Ian Cugley,

Anne Boyd, and Gillian Whitehead). Sculthorpe attended a UNESCO conference in

Japan on the relations between Japanese and Western Arts, visited Japan several times,

and formed personal friendships with such Japanese composers such as Toru Takemitsu.

He even considered himself a Zen Buddhist in the mid-sixties (then fashionable)--

although time spent in a monastery seems to have cured him of this. Similarly,

Sculthorpe became enamored with Balinese culture, taking much interest in Colin

McPhee’s A House in Bali, and later his mammoth tome, Music in Bali.38 At one stage,

Sculthorpe went so far as to produce a documentary for Australian television on musical

activity in Bali.39

37 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 297. 38 Colin McPhee, A House in Bali (New York: The John Day Co., 1946) and Music in Bali: A

Study in Form and Instrumental Organization in Balinese Orchestral Music (New Haven and London, Yale University Press, 1966).

39 The film was entitled Tabuh Tabuhan. See Sun Music, 169-195, and particularly 177. This is ,

of course, also the name of one of McPhee’s most famous gamelan-influenced pieces (2 pianos and

15

Sculthorpe’s most prevalent musical influences have been Japanese (Gagaku and

saibara, in particular) and Indonesian (Balinese and sometimes Javanese gamelan, in

particular). These sources have provided a fountain of melodic inspiration for quotation

and imitation. At times, the influence of these musical cultures is also felt in more

abstract ways.

A prominent examples of the use of a Japanese melody appears in the orchestral

work Mangrove, which quotes the saibara melody “Ise-no-umi.” Sculthorpe’s Piano

Concerto (1983) likewise borrows a saibara melody. Arguably, the sound-world of

Japanese melody has also infiltrated deeply into Sculthorpe’s personal idiom. For

instance, several of his works make extensive use of the in-scale (insen),40 a type of

pentatonic set that forms the most common tunings of the Koto, such as the hirajoshi,

made up of the pitches E, F, A, B, and C.41 A member of the set-class [01568] (able to be

formed from scale degrees 1, 2, 3, 5 and 6 of the natural minor scale), this collection is

prevalent throughout Sculthorpe’s oeuvre. A prominent instance is the melody at the

opening of Song of Tailitnama, illustrated in Ex.1-1. The set-class [01568] is also

skeletal in Sculthorpe’s construction of the “Elcho Island Lament,” as seen in Visions of

Captain Quiros, From Kakadu, and even Tropic (to name just the guitar works that

include this melody). From this set-class he derives several favorite sonorities, [0156]

and [0157] in particular.

orchestra, 1936). Sculthorpe also wrote a piece with the same name in 1968.

40 See Allen Marett, “Mode, §V, 5(ii): East Asia: Scales and Modes in Japanese Court Music,”

The New Grove Dictionary of Music Online ed. L. Macy (Accessed 12 July 2002), <http://www.grovemusic.com>. See also Hisao Tanabe, Japanese Music (Tokyo: The Society for International Cultural Relations, 1959), 5; and Bonnie C. Wade, Tegotomono (Westport, CN: Greenwod Press, 1976), 40.

41 Common usage sometimes refers to the in-scale or insen as the hirajoshi scale, although this

designation more correctly designates a specific koto tuning. See, for example, Hannan, Peter Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas, 180 and 225, or Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 205, and also the standard US undergraduate theory text by Stefan Kostka and Dorothy Payne, Tonal Harmony: With an Introduction to Twentieth-Century Music, 4th ed. (Boston: McGraw-Hill, 2000), 495.

16

17

The quotation of major pentatonic melodies from Bali and the Torres Strait

Islands is also very common in Sculthorpe’s music. For example, the main theme of the

guitar concerto, Nourlangie, is a Torres Strait Islands dance-song. Two of the melodies

in Tropic are also from the Torres Strait. Michael Hannan, the first musicologist to write

a monograph on Sculthorpe, describes the oddity of the composer adopting major

pentatonic melodies.42 Sculthorpe’s style had developed around the prevalence of the

semitone interval (particularly used as a neighbor-note motive above static harmonies), a

characteristic that is obviously at odds with the anhemitonic nature of the pentatonic

scale. In some pieces, Sculthorpe has been able to remold his compositional style to suit

this anhemitonic sound-world. At other times, the disparity between semitone-rich music

and pentatonic-derived music is used to create a sense of duality, a dichotomy of musical

styles (which is prevalent throughout much of Sculthorpe’s oeuvre).43

In other ways, Sculthorpe cites the influence of Asia as a source of rhythmic

inspiration. He writes that he “sensed a deterioration in Western European music since

an earlier period when, for instance, it possessed a great subtlety and sophistication of

rhythm.” Dominated by a German aesthetic, rhythm became, finally, little more than the march and the waltz . . . . Since Webern, however, composers such as Boulez and Stockhausen, reacting against simple, divisive rhythm, have completely turned their backs on all corporeal [inspired by song and dance] rhythm.44

This quotation is from a paper delivered by Sculthorpe at Expo ‘70 in Japan, outlining his

vision of Asia as a source for rhythmic renewal in Western music, a way to reinvigorate

42 Hannan, Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas, 68. 43 See, for example, Naomi Cumming, “Encountering Mangrove: An Essay in Signification,”

Australasian Music Research 1 (1996): 201. Cumming cites Jana Skarecky, “Duality in the Music of Peter Sculthorpe: String Quartet #10” (M.Mus. [Composition] thesis, The University of Sydney, 1987), chapter 1, “Duality”. Compare also Hannan, Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas, 32, where he contrasts the slow and fast styles in Sculthorpe’s Sonatina for solo piano.

44 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 137 (quoting the paper delivered at Expo ‘70).

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rhythm whilst still enabling it to be tied to the impulses of song and dance. Apparently,

not everyone in attendance was impressed--including Stockhausen (perhaps

understandably, given the personal attack). To some Japanese composers the avant-

garde was apparently viewed as the salvation of Japanese music. But the hegemony of

the avant-garde has passed.45 In today’s post-modern environment, a plethora of

different approaches are cultivated and the use of tonality, melody, and corporeal rhythm

have regained respectability as viable options. Indeed, we could even argue that multi-

culturalism has become fashionable in the post-modern world, such that a composer like

Sculthorpe (who uses cross-cultural influences) has become quite mainstream--if such a

thing exists. We should distinguish, however, between composers who simply continued

conservative neo-Romantic traditions throughout the heyday of the avant-garde (high-

modernism) and beyond, and composers who were an innovative force of renewal (not

tossing out the baby with the bath-water, so to speak). Sculthorpe appears to fit more

comfortably in the latter category. For even at the height of his reaction against the

conservative musical establishment in Australia (in the 1950s and early 1960s, when

many Australian composers were still writing in the tradition of Vaughan Williams),

Sculthorpe refused to do away with melody, tonality, and corporeal rhythm entirely (with

the possible exception of a few experiments in his undergraduate days). How different

this is to so many of the leading European and American composers of the era. Yet

today, many of the avant-garde’s staunchest defenders have somewhat relaxed their

attitudes. Sculthorpe speculates that even Stockhausen, “judging from his more recent

45 Indeed, it could be argued that the very idea of avant-garde seems to have exhausted itself in

music. As more composers began to jump on the band-wagon, the term began to lose its meaning and paradoxically could even be turned on its head. Tonal music became unusual and thus the conservative became avant-garde, and the avant-garde conservative. In fact, in somewhat of a back-lash against the avant-garde, what was once considered old-fashioned and conservative began to receive new interest. The reality of the post-modern musical environment is that there is no longer a dominant stream in Western composition, such that the very idea of avant-garde is relatively meaningless.

19

music,” would be more sympathetic today to the ideas he (Sculthorpe) expressed at

Expo ’70.

Sculthorpe’s rhythmic revitalization parallels the approach of American

minimalists such as Reich and Glass. His music is much based on repetition, rhythmic

counterpoint, phasing techniques, isometric and cross-metric devices. These phase

techniques are different from those used in Reich’s phase pieces. Sculthorpe’s phase

techniques simply occur when musical phrases of lengths incongruent with the

underlying meter repeat over and over, periodically coming in and out of phase in their

interaction with the prevailing meter. The phasing thus occurs between an instrument

and the underlying meter, rather than between instruments (as in Reich), and the gradual

phasing is incremental, bound by a regular underlying subdivision of the meter (unlike

Reich’s phase pieces). A well-documented example is seen in the orchestral work

Mangrove,46 and other instances of this technique are seen in Tropic. According to the

composer, one precedent for such devices is found in Balinese music. For example, he

describes his fascination with the phase techniques used in Balinese rice-pounding

music47 (which he imitates in String Quartet no. 8).

Many of Sculthorpe’s rhythmic textures seem closely inspired by gamelan.

Furthermore, his music frequently employs percussion for punctuation--a source of

colotomic structure--as it is seen in much Balinese music.48 In this, the role of percussion

noises is to highlight key structural points in the music, the seam between one idea and

the next. Sculthorpe describes the influence of Balinese gamelan on his music in three

stages. He writes:

46 Naomi-Helen Cumming, “Encountering Mangrove: An Essay in Signification,” Australasian Music Research 1 (1996): 206-207.

47 Andrew Ford, “As Simple As That: Peter Sculthorpe,” 43. 48 Hannan, Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas, 68. This theme is developed throughout Hannan’s

book. See “Punctuation” in the index p.232 for multiple references, and “colotomic structure” in the glossary, p.224.

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First of all, I imitated the sounds, as in the gender wayang orchestration in Sun Music III (1967). This occurs, too, in much of Tabuh Tabuhan (1968). In the second stage, I employed Balinese compositional techniques, with no attempt at recreating the sound. The fourth movement of String Quartet No 8 (1969), for instance, and parts of String Quartet No 9 (1975) are based on the rhythmic patterns of rice-pounding music. I reached the final stage when something of the essence of Bali, not only its music, entered my work almost without my noticing it.49

The last category is more subjective in nature, but the composer claims to have

internalized certain abstract textural ideas prevalent in Balinese music, such as the idea of

“making waves” [ombak-ombakan] and “making flowers” [kembangan].50 He cites its

use in Mangrove (1979), How the Stars Were Made (1971), and Rites of Passage (1972-

73) but provides no further explanation as to how these philosophical ideas are realized

in the musical texture. Other pieces taking influence from gamelan include Sun Music II

(1969) and the Piano Concerto (1983),51 and also Rain.52

There have also been several other manifestations of Japanese influence in

Sculthorpe’s music (in terms of rhythm and musical program). For example, Sculthorpe

was impressed with the way in which Gagaku performers create a musical texture in

which several instruments play the same melody in distinctive timbres yet slightly out of

step with each other--a type of ensemble playing known to ethnomusicologists as

heterophony.53 Sculthorpe calls for a similar rhythmic/textural effect in several of his

scores, using the marking “fuori di passo” [Italian for “out-of step”] to instruct

performers to deliberately play out of sync with each other. This is used it to great effect

in such pieces as Mangrove, and Koto Music I and II. Other influences are seen in

49 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 171-72. 50 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 190-91. 51 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, chapter 9. 52 Hannan, Peter Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas, 87. 53 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 131-32.

21

Sculthorpe’s Music for Japan, which employs deliberate references to Japanese musical

genres. Similarly, Sun, Moon and Flowers, and Night Pieces, were inspired by Japanese

philosophical ideas, with obvious reference to the art form of Haiku poetry.

1-5. The Influence of Aboriginal Culture

Borrowing from Aboriginal culture has become increasingly prevalent in Australian

music in recent decades. Several writers have identified this musical trend with the

“Jindyworobak” movement in Australian literature in the years immediately before and

during World War II.54 Centered in South Australia with the poets Rex Ingamells and Ian

Mudie, this movement takes its name from an Aboriginal word meaning “annexing” or

“joining,” implying a cultural renewal through the absorption of Aboriginal culture by

Western literature. As Covell defines the term, it aimed “to seek a closer identification

with the Australian landscape through Aboriginal traditions and even through borrowings

from the languages of the Aborigines.”55

Essentially this was a Nationalist movement that rejected the mundane replication

of European idioms and sought to find something new. In early colonial poets, artists

and musicians took some time to wake up to the fact that their country was

fundamentally different. For instance, painters attempted to make their landscapes look

like idealized pastoral scenes in colors inappropriate to the harsh reality of the Australian

bush. Poets and musicians were no better. The Jindyworobak movement was thus a

genuine attempt to create something uniquely Australian. But as Covell points out, it is

was “basically a longed-for ‘short-cut’ to cultural maturity and national identity.”56 He

54 See Deborah Crisp, "The Influence of Australian Aboriginal Music on the Music of

Contemporary Australian Composers," in Australian Aboriginal Music ed. by Jennifer Isaacs (Sydney: Wentworth Press, 1979), 50, and Roger Covell, Australia’s Music: Themes of a New Society (Melbourne: Sun Books, 1967), chapter 4.

55 Covell, Australia’s Music, 64. 56 Covell, Australia’s Music, 65.

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states earlier that members of the Jindyworobak movement “felt that by using Aboriginal

words in what they understood to be a valid sense, they would ensure the transference to

themselves or their writing of some kind of empathetic kinship with a county inhabited

for so long by the people to whose languages these words had belonged.”57 This can

obviously become somewhat superficial, as if simply employing Aboriginal words can

truly make something more Australian.

The musical corollary of this is the trend among some Australian composers to

simply add an Aboriginal title, rather than call their work “Sonata” or some such Western

term. Similarly, the use of an Aboriginal program can often appear to be an afterthought.

The next level in musical “Jindyworobakism” was to make actual use of Aboriginal

musical material, such as John Antill’s relatively well-known work Corroboree of 1944.

This at least demonstrated a new respect for authentic Aboriginal music, as opposed to

early attempts to “correct” Aboriginal music. As Deborah Crisp explains, the endeavors

of Australian musicians in the nineteenth century (a hundred years before Antill) to make

Aboriginal musical “accessible to the general public,” often displayed the worst kind of

cultural imperialism: Often an ‘authentic’ melody was clothed in European harmony and rhythm, offensive ‘deviant’ notes corrected, and the song arranged for voice and pianoforte, or some other equally inappropriate medium.58

Compared to these efforts of earlier generations described by Crisp (which exhibit an

underlying assumption that Aboriginal music is inferior), the use of Aboriginal material

by twentieth-century composers (such as Antill) shows greater respect for Aboriginal

music. Like the Jindyworobak movement, Antill consciously attempts cultural

integration, using indigenous material as a force for renewal in his music, much as

57 Covell, Australia’s Music, 64. 58 Crisp, "The Influence of Australian Aboriginal Music," 50.

23

Dvorak urged American composers to use native Indian melodies in order to create a

distinctly American style. However, while such efforts to incorporate Aboriginal

melodies into classical musical artworks are laudable, they often still treat Aboriginal

material as mere exoticisms (curiosities?) in that the Aboriginal “artifact” seems out of

place, merely an object inserted into an unaltered Western musical framework.

Following a quite different path, Sculthorpe avoided the use of actual Aboriginal

melodies early in his career. However, curious parallels can be observed between

aspects of Aboriginal music and Sculthorpe’s emerging sense of style. Writing in 1979,

Crisp argues that Sculthorpe, and others like him who don’t make direct use of

Aboriginal music, were still indirectly influenced by Aboriginal music and culture.59

Sculthorpe himself claims no direct Aboriginal influence on his music of this era (before

1974), but rather the influence of Asia. Moreover, his sound-world was undoubtedly also

indebted to simultaneous developments in Europe and America. But Crisps argues that

despite taking overt influence from Asian, the musical result (in Sculthorpe’s music, and

that of some of his contemporaries) seems crafted to suit the Australian landscape, and

ends up sounding closer to Aboriginal than Asian music: Although much of their musical material is Asian in origin, the end result is invariably expressive of the drier, more vast Australian continent, resembling in its texture and tone quality the music of the Aboriginals rather than that of the Balinese Gamelan or Japanese Gagaku, the two most significant Asian influences on Australian composers. Largely non-tonal and non-melodic, the composers rely heavily on drones, both tonal and non-tonal, rhythmic ostinati, and percussive sounds. The smooth, full-bodied sounds of nineteenth century Europe are nowhere to be found; harmonic movement, in the European sense, is absent. Sparse, arid sounds predominate, within a static seemingly endless time-frame, which is rarely sectionalised to the same extent as in Asian music.60

59 Crisp, "The Influence of Australian Aboriginal Music," 54. 60 Crisp, "The Influence of Australian Aboriginal Music,” 54

24

The similarities between Sculthorpe’s style and Aboriginal music (static harmonies, a

lack of functional tonality in the conventional European sense, and the use of repetitive

patterns and drones) are traits of the most abstract and general nature. Sculthorpe’s

music was (and is) still worlds apart from the sound-world, rhythmic qualities, and tonal

idiom of authentic Aboriginal music. However, though purpose or coincidence,

Sculthorpe had adopted musical qualities that pre-disposed his music as suitable for the

inclusion of directly quoted indigenous musical material. Sculthorpe had developed a

musical idiom that would gel much more fluidly with Aboriginal melody than that of the

previous generation of Australian composers (such as Antill). For aboriginal melodies in

Sculthorpe’s music seldom sound like foreign objects.

Sculthorpe’s use of actual Aboriginal melodies began in the 1970s (starting with

Song of Tailitnama in 1974). Previously, he had been very reluctant to use actual

indigenous melodies.61 Writing in 1979, Crisp notes in her article that “Sculthorpe’s

more recent works seem to be employing elements of Aboriginal culture in an

increasingly tangible way.”62 She was right, and the trend has only continued. But

Sculthorpe’s use of Aboriginal melodies has been extremely cautious. I would argue that

Sculthorpe has almost invariably chosen melodies (“found objects”) with a view to their

potential to conform to his musical language. For example, the “Elcho Island Lament”

conforms closely to Sculthorpe’s style, for he had already used motives very similar to

those of the actual tune in his music prior to his discovery of this melody. Similarly, the

melody “Djilile” is note-for-note identical to a melody in the last movement of his fourth

string quartet--a curiosity that Sculthorpe only discovered much later.63

61 Matthews, “Sculthorpe at 60,” 15. See also Ford, “As Simple As That: Peter Sculthorpe,” 42. 62 Crisp, "The Influence of Australian Aboriginal Music," 54. 63 See page 38.

25

Undoubtedly, Sculthorpe’s use of Aboriginal chant is not just quotation. He

does, indeed, alter indigenous melodies in order to make them conform more closely to

his own musical style (which while similar to Aboriginal music in many aspects, is still

quite different).64 Sculthorpe’s program notes in the preface to works usually make this

point abundantly clear. For example, the opening melody of From Kakadu is, in

Sculthorpe's own words, "a free adaptation of an Aboriginal lament from Elcho Island in

the Arafura Sea".65

This modus operandi raises further ethical dilemmas. How is this process any

different or any better from the cultural imperialism of nineteenth-century colonialists in

their attempts to “correct” the “mistakes” of Aboriginal music? Sculthorpe, the western

composer, is certainly taking over an indigenous artifact and dominating it

imperialistically by bending it to his own compositional will. The difference arguably

lies in Sculthorpe’s attitude towards Aboriginal music, which is one of profound respect-

-much removed from the patronizing air of nineteenth-century musicians towards

Aboriginal musical curiosities.

For instance, Sculthorpe often imitates indigenous musical styles, or simply takes

inspiration from them. In the program note to the orchestral piece Kakadu, he writes that

“the melodic material in Kakadu, as in much of my recent music, was suggested [italics

mine] by the contours and rhythms of Aboriginal chant.”66 The idea of imitation undoes

the negative connotations of the colonial power structure. Sculthorpe, the Western

64 Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 11. See also David Matthews, "Peter Sculthorpe

At 60," Tempo 170 (Sept 1989): 85. 65 From the composers note to the score of Lament as reported in Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-

Bibliography, 85. Note that Hayes includes the composer’s notes to all works up to the time of publication (1993).

66 Composer’s note to Sculthorpe, Kakadu (London: Faber Music Ltd., 1992). This also appears

in Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 79.

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composer, takes influence from Aboriginal music precisely because he sees something of

real musical value worth imitating.

Indeed, Sculthorpe arguably possesses a special sensitivity to Aboriginal culture,

and has been one of its devoted champions. His attitudes towards religion, ritual, and the

landscape seem to have gradually shaped themselves around Aboriginal ideas.

Moreover, his use of Aboriginal melodies is reportedly made in good faith and with

cultural sensitivity.67 In his autobiography, Sculthorpe expands on the history of his

relationship with indigenous material in the following manner:

Since writing Port Essington, I’ve drawn upon a small number of melodies and made reference to more general stylistic aspects of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Island music . . .

Occasionally, in recent times, I’ve been criticized for this, especially for my direct quotations of Aboriginal melodies. My conscience, however, is clear: I’ve never used [Aboriginal] songs to be heard only by men, or songs to be heard only by women, nor have I, for instance, used the bullroarer, a sacred object [which is more than can be said of some other composers] . . .

I once sought advice upon these matters from the Aboriginal elder, Burnam Burnam. He told me, simply, to continue in my work, adding, “We know you do it from the heart.”68

Essentially, Sculthorpe’s use of Aboriginal material is similar in aim to the original

Jindyworobak movement in that it is strives for cultural renewal, for the creation of a

national identity through identifying with indigenous culture. Indeed, this was the path

to the future advocated by Roger Covell in his book, Australia’s Music. In the chapter

“Jindyworobakism and More,” Covell calls for a deeper and fuller appreciation of

Aboriginal music yet points out that Australian composers could yet utilize it in fruitful

ways. He ends the chapter quoting the painter Ainslie Roberts as pointing to an attitude

that Australian composer’s could or should adopt, whether or not they make use of actual

Aboriginal music:

67 See Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 29. Hayes also refers to an article by Carolin Baum entitled “Film Also Explores Music Limits” Arts Extra section, Herald (31 Oct 1985): 23.

68 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 213.

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By virtue of thousand of years of usage, the history of Australia belongs to the Aboriginal. This history was not physical, but sprang from his ancient mythology, by which his daily life and custom were ruled and which gave him complete identity with his physical surroundings. The white man, because of his relatively brief tenancy of Australia, lacks such a rich identification. Access to the original sprit of the land can only be gained through the mind of the Aboriginal.69

There are multiple ways in which Sculthorpe has adopted Aboriginal attitudes in his

music. In particular, his attitudes towards the land have gradually altered from more

typically European reactions--loneliness and estrangement (e.g.. the Irkanda series)--to a

more Aboriginal attitude--deep longing for its rare beauties, coupled with respect for its

mysterious power. Sculthorpe’s quasi-Aboriginal attitude to the land also has a tinge of

conservationism. For instance, in the program note to his work Earth Cry (1986)

Sculthorpe writes that “perhaps we now need to attune ourselves to this continent, to

listen to the cry of the earth, as the Aborigines have done for many thousands of years.”70

The concept of the dreamtime that is so central to Australian aboriginal

mythology has also given inspiration to many of Sculthorpe’s works. The dreamtime is

the time of creation, a mythological era when events occurred that shaped the landscape

and the world as we know it. Indeed the melody “Djilile,” which constitutes the main

theme of Tropic, has almost come to represent (for Sculthorpe) the dreamtime itself.71

Sculthorpe also entertains a comparison of his recycling of musical material with

the Aboriginal concept of "songlines" or "dreamtracks." Sculthorpe refers to the book

The Songlines by Bruce Chatwin as a significant influence on his thinking. He explains

the significance of the songlines in Aboriginal culture as marking the steps of the

ancestors in the dreamtime when they sung the world into existence:

69 Covell, Australia’s Music, 87. Covell cites Catherine Ellis, Aboriginal Music Making: A Study of Central Australian Music (Adelaide: Libraries Board of South Australia, 1964), who quotes Ainslie Roberts (the full citation is not given).

70 Composer’s note to Earth Cry (London: Faber Music Ltd., 1986). 71 See Mellers, “New Worlds, Old Wildernesses,” 98.

28

The book begins with an investigation into the labyrinth of invisible

pathways which Aboriginal people call Footprints of the Ancestors, or The Way of the Law. As Chatwin tells it, the totemic ancestor of each species creates itself from the mud of the primordial water hole. Taking a step forward, it sings its name, the opening line of a song. It takes a second step, singing a comment upon the first line. It then sets forward on a journey, making pathways across the land, singing the very world into joyful existence. Europeans have called these pathways Songlines or Dreaming tracks. Some believe that the totality of the concept has not been fully grasped. I use the ideas in a metaphorical sense.72

The songlines refer to literal geographic paths mapped out by particular songs in

Aboriginal communities. That is to say, if we were to survey the prevalence of certain

songs in Aboriginal communities across large areas of the Australian outback, they

would map out actual geographical lines representing the paths taken by the totemic

ancestors. Chatwin’s book is essentially a work of fiction but was bathed in significant

anthropological detail. A controversial book, the accuracy of Chatwin’s perception of

certain aspects of Aboriginal culture has been called into question. However, the net

result of the book was arguably a favorable public reappraisal of the complexities of

indigenous culture.

Sculthorpe uses the concept of dreamtracks to refer to the evolution of certain

melodies throughout his music that have their origin in Aboriginal music. Melodies such

as the “Elcho Island Lament,” “Djilile,” and the “Torres Strait Dance-Song” are all based

on indigenous sources and have been used repeatedly throughout his oeuvre. Moreover,

nearly all the works inspired by Kakadu National Park share similar melodic material.

This composer refers to this shared material as the “Kakadu songlines.”73 Sculthorpe’s

application of this idea to his own music is therefore figurative and fanciful: the paths

forged by these melodies in his music are linear (chronological) rather than geographical.

72 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 256. 73 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 251-272.

29

However, many tunes in Aboriginal culture are also passed from generation to

generation across time. Some Aboriginal songs are original, but even here, sometimes

songs are acquired via dreams or visions and are believed to have been received from

ancestors.74 Aboriginal music is, after all, an exclusively oral culture, so the

chronological journey of melodies (from one generation to the next) is pivotal to their

survival.

1-6. Cross-Fertilization and Kakadu Songlines

Sculthorpe’s constant reworking of material has sometimes led to accusations of creative

poverty. On the other hand, the composer prefers to explain this process as comparable

to a painter who repaints the same subject repeatedly in order explore its myriad aspects.

In this way, each new musical context in which a theme appears enables the composer to

explore a subtly different aspect of the theme itself. Over numerous works the composer

may gradually perfect and fill-out their understanding of the musical material.

Sculthorpe writes “I tend to regard my oeuvre as being whole in itself, rather than a

string of works.”75 Complex networks of relationships amongst Sculthorpe’s works can

thus be traced.

It is clear that the melodies which Sculthorpe reuses extensively may have also

certain personal meanings. For example, it was previously noted that “Djilile has been

equated with the dreamtime.76 Arguably the integrity of this meaning relates to the fact

that “Djilile” appears relatively unchanged throughout Sculthorpe’s oeuvre. Other

74 The idea of a shared cultural inheritance, however, would be an over-simplification. Questions

of ownership are often more complex in Aboriginal culture, and as Chatwin’s book vividly illustrates, the issues of song-ownership and Aboriginal totems is fraught with complexity and potential misunderstandings. The ownership of songs varies widely: songs may belong to the group, to a particular totem, or an individual. They may be accessible to the many, or only the initiated, or only to one sex.

75 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 264. 76 See Mellers, “New Worlds, Old Wildernesses,” 98.

30

melodies undergo extensive modification from piece to piece, yet one could argue that

they are still associated with a particular affect. Even the “Elcho Island Lament” seldom

loses its characteristic intensity despite ranging from restrained grief to mystic wonder to

impassioned anger. Effectively, the subtle changes in affect that the “Lament” undergoes

on its journey as a songline, represent different aspects of the melody’s essential nature

which are explored and brought out in the context of each different piece. For these

reasons, comparing various settings of the Kakadu songlines can be enlightening,

revealing hitherto unconsidered aspects of each musical idea.

Knowing the etymology of the significant tunes used in Sculthorpe’s guitar works

is therefore quite important if we are to come to a full understanding of the meanings

behind the musical themes. For example, the meaning/s of the “Elcho Island Lament” in

From Kakadu (1993) can be compared to those given it in The Visions of Captain Quiros

(1980). Although both settings have virtually identical guitar parts, the composer has

provided radically different programmatic paradigms in each work--a depiction of the

landscape of Kakadu versus the mystic visions of a Portuguese explorer. These different

programmatic contexts suggest subtly different interpretations. Furthermore, one setting

can inform the other, providing the performer with a deeper understanding of the

emotional potential hidden in the notes. These setting of the “Lament” could also be

contrasted with the orchestral work, Kakadu. Here, the subdued aspect and tinge of

loneliness common to both From Kakadu and The Visions of Captain Quiros, is replaced

by a dynamic effusion of energy and power.

It should be pointed out that when Sculthorpe speaks of “Kakadu Songlines,” he

refers particularly to the melodies used in the works inspired by Kakadu National Park in

the Northern Territory. No allusion to Beethoven’s Piano Trio (the Variations Op.121a

on Wenzel Muller’s lied “Ich bin der Schneider Kakadu”) is implied. However,

Sculthorpe’s first work inspired by the park, the orchestral work Kakadu (1988), makes

31

reference to the fact that “kakadu” is also the German word for cockatoo. In the

composer’s note to Kakadu he alludes to his use of cockatoo sounds in the score: Since the Beethoven Variation of the same name it is well-known that kakadu is the German word for cockatoo. Certainly there are cockatoos in my music, as well as many other kinds of birds.77

Despite the verbal reference in the preface, however, there is no musical allusion to

Beethoven in Sculthorpe’s Kakadu. Moreover, the name of the park actually stems from

an Aboriginal name for the dominant tribal group (and language) of the area, now usually

spelled “Gagadju.” Although cockatoos are very common in Kakadu, there is no proven

connection between the park’s name and the German word.78

Sculthorpe’s predilection for using indigenous material actually began long

before he wrote Kakadu, starting with the work Song of Tailitnama in 1974, and the film

score Essington, of the same year. Song of Tailitnama is the first concrete example of the

use of indigenous source material in Sculthorpe’s work and set the pattern for future

borrowings in the way the composer freely modified the “found object” to suit his

wishes. Fragments from the original melody and Sculthorpe’s modification of it appear

in Ex.1-2a and 1-2b.79 This fragment of the tune appeared earlier in Roger Covell’s

book Australia’s Music: Themes of a New Society (as Hannan points out). Covell’s

chapter “Jindyworobakism and More” laments the dearth of real understanding of

Aboriginal music by white musicians (particularly nineteenth-century bastardized

transcriptions) but at the same time he advocates for the positive possibilities in the use

of Aboriginal music by white composers. Essentially, we have to understand and

77 Composer’s note to Kakadu (London: Faber Music Ltd., 1992). 78 It could be entirely coincidental that the name of the park is also the German word for

cockatoo. However, the spelling of the name does invite conjecture as to whether early settlers made a connection between the Aboriginal name and the common German word due to the prevalence of cockatoos in the area.

79 Taken from Hannan, “Peter Sculthorpe: The Song of Tailitnama (1984),” handbook to

Anthology of Australian Music On Disc, 75-77 (Canberra, Canberra School of Music, 1989), 76.

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33

appreciate Aboriginal music on its own terms, and then we can make use of it in our own

music. Covell gives the original Groot Eylandt tune as an example of rhythmic

sophistication in the use of the didjeridu.80 The original source of the melody was in

recordings by A. P. Elkin (record 76A) and transcribed by Trevor Jones in an essay

“Australian Aboriginal Music” in the book Aboriginal Man in Australia.81

The Aboriginal tune, which comes from the Groote Eylandt tribe (situated on an

island off the coast of Arnhem Land), is modified to conform to the Japanese in-scale (or

“hirajoshi” scale). The original fragment has five pitches (do-re-mi-fa-sol) whereas the

modified version has only four, and the second lowest pitch is flattened by a half-step

(do-ra-fa-sol). In this way, Sculthorpe found a way to incorporate both an Aboriginal

tune, and to pay homage to Japanese music--which had long been an inspiration to him.

From this point on, the use of the in-scale became increasingly common in Sculthorpe’s

works. According to Hannan, the repetitive melodic structure of this melody was also a

stylistic inspiration to the composer, providing one concrete way in which Sculthorpe’s

technique of “growth by accretion” may be said to be influenced by Aboriginal music.82

A list of works containing the theme of Song of Tailitnama is given below in Table 1-1.

Table 1-1. Works Containing the Theme of Song of Tailitnama

Title Date Instrumentation Song of Tailitnama 1974 originally for high voice, 6 cellos, and percussion Earth Cry 1986 orchestral From Ubirr 1994 string quartet and didjeridu

80 Covell, Australia’s Music, 326. 81 A transcription of the original melody is found in Trevor Jones, “Australian Aboriginal Music,”

in Aboriginal Man in Australia: Essays in Honour of Emeritus Professor A. P. Elkin, ed. by Ronald M Berndt and Cartherine H. Berndt (Sydney: Angus and Robertson, 1965), 333. The tune appears on recording 76A made by A. P. Elkin. Sculthorpe refers to Elkin and Jones as the source in Sun Music, 205.

82 Hannan, “Peter Sculthorpe: The Song of Tailitnama,” 76.

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From this point on, the idea of using indigenous melodies captured the composers

imagination. According to Sculthorpe, the most frequently recurring Kakadu songlines

are the following: the “Elcho Island lament,” first used in Manganinnie (1980); the

“Torres Strait Dance-Song,” first used in Nourlangie (1989); the “French Atlas Chant”--

first used in Sun Song I (1984); and “Djilile,” first used in Essington (1974).83 However,

the etymological overview of songlines provided below is limited to those used in the

guitar music. I list them in order of decreasing importance: (1) “The Elcho Island

Lament,” (2) “Djilile,” (3) “The Torres Strait Dance-Song,” and (4) the “Estatico”

melody from Tropic.

(1) The “Elcho Island Lament”

Sculthorpe’s relationship with this tune can be traced back to his award-winning score

for the film Manganinnie (1980).84 He writes:

I first came to know the Lament when it was sung to me by Mawuyul Yathalawuy, a tribal elder from Elcho Island, just off the coast of Arnhem Land. She played the title role in Manganinnie, the story of he last survivor of one of the tribes exterminated by soldiers and early settlers in Tasmania.85

In phone conversations I had with the composer, he explained that the original form of

this melody was the pitch content of the first ten bars of From Kakadu (as shown in

Ex.1-3). The basic four-note unit E-F-E-D is transposed down a fourth to B-C-B-D and

then the initial unit is repeated. In his use of the tune, Sculthorpe extended the melody to

give it some symmetrical qualities, in that he tags on a repetition of the basic four-note

unit, transposed up a fourth to symmetrically balance the earlier transposition down a

fourth. It is this longer version of the tune that is used throughout his works, even though

83 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 263. 84 The score won the Australian Film Institute’s Best Score award, and a Sammy award for the

Best Theme Music. See Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 70. 85 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 254.

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36

it appears with different rhythms and in varied programmatic guises. Table 1-2 shows a

list of works that employ the “Elcho Island Lament.” Like the theme of Song of

Tailitnama, Sculthorpe’s modifications of the “Elcho Island Lament” conform to his

typical modus operandi, transforming a melodic found object through his own stylistic

filters to create a melody that resembles its progenitor but conforms to his own musical

language.

What is particularly interesting is that the original form of the “Elcho Island

Lament” closely resembled motives already found in his music--presumably explaining

Sculthorpe’s attraction to it. For instance, Ex.1-5a shows a segment of the vocal

accompaniment to his piece Song of Tailitnama (1974) whose basic outline and interval

structure is almost identical to the first six measures of the “Elcho Island Lament”

(Ex.1-5b).

Table 1-2. Works Containing the “Elcho Island Lament”

Title Date Instrumentation

[works predating the Kakadu period] Manganinnie 1980 film score The Visions of Captain Quiros 1980 guitar concerto--now withdrawn

[works related to Kakadu National Park] Kakadu 1988 orchestral Threnody 1991-92 solo cello From Kakadu 1993 solo guitar

(2) “Djilile” or “Whispering Duck”

Thankfully, the original form of “Djilile” is well documented. It is shown in Ex.1-4, as

it is given in Sculthorpe’s autobiography, Sun Music. “Djilile,” as used by Sculthorpe,

contains the identical sequence of notes as the original found object but the rhythms are

slightly altered. This original tune is an Aboriginal melody from the Dua camp of

Arnhem Land in Northern Australia (land which now forms an enormous Aboriginal land

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38

reserve in the Northern Territory). The melody was recorded by A. P. Elkin in the 1950s

and later transcribed by Trevor Jones.86 The tune forms part of the Maraian rite, a kind

of all souls festival with a secret ceremony involving music and mimetic dances

representing various animals and birds (although whether the melody itself is also

intended to be mimetic is unclear).87. Elkin’s translation of the entire text is as follows: The ducks, with their red breasts, swim and bathe in the billabong, making a noise flapping their wings on the water. They look for food amongst the billabong weeds.88

However, as with the lament, Sculthorpe’s adoption of this tune may have as much to do

with the recognition of qualities that could easily be absorbed into his own idiom. For

example, in Sun Music, Sculthorpe reveals that by coincidence, the pitch content of

“Djilile” is almost identical to a tune in his String Quartet No.4 (final movement,

“Country Dance”), written in 1950.89 In phone conversations with the present author,

Sculthorpe confessed that he was blissfully unaware of this connection until it was

pointed out to him by someone else many years later (after he had begun to use “Djilile”

in several works).90 He also described how he was immediately taken with the original

melody after his first hearing of it (using the Elkin recordings). Arguably, Sculthorpe

instinctively (and perhaps unconsciously) recognized that this melody was something

that he could easily use. The fact that he had already written an almost identical

86 A. P. Elkin and Trevor Jones, “Arnhem Land Music,” Oceania 26/4 (June 1956): 339. The

tune can be heard on recordings associated with the article. Two verses of the tune can be found on record 24A and the entire version on 12A.

87 See A. P. Elkin, The Australian Aborigines: How to Understand Them, 3rd ed. (Sydney,

Halstead Press, 1956), 253 and 256. 88 Elkin and Jones, “Arnhem Land Music,” 339. 89 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 263-64. 90 Sculthorpe credits Nick Milton (a violinist, and more recently a conductor) with revealing to

him this similarity. At the time, Milton was studying Sculthorpe’s string quartets for a PhD dissertation at Columbia University (which he left incomplete).

39

sequence of pitches in a previous work (despite apparently being unconscious of this),

only serves to demonstrate that the melody did indeed fit comfortably with his style.

The first use of this tune is in the film score Essington (1974), later adapted for

strings in Port Essington. In this work, “Djilile” emerges as the transformation of a

Mendelssohn-like piano theme that begins the score. Sculthorpe apparently became

particularly attached to the tune in the form that appears at the end of Port Essington.

Subsequent works use the melody in this form, more or less unchanged.91 According to

Sculthorpe’s close confidant, Wilfred Mellers, the tune has come to have special personal

meaning to the composer, signifying the dreamtime.92 A list of works containing

“Djilile” appears in Table 1-3.

Table 1-3. Works Containing “Djilile”

Title Date Instrumentation

[works predating the Kakadu period]s Essington 1974 film score Port Essington 1977 orchestral, derived from the film score Djilile 1986 for cello and piano 1986 for piano solo 1990 for 4 percussion [works related to Kakadu National Park] Kakadu 1988 orchestral Dream Tracks 1992 for violin, clarinet and piano Tropic 1992 2 guitars, violin, double-bass, clarinet, and percussion

91 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 263. 92 Wilfred Mellers, “New Worlds, Old Wildernesses: Peter Sculthorpe and the Ecology of Music,”

The Atlantic 268/2 (Aug 1991): 94-98.

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(3) The “Torres Strait Dance-Song”

In Sun Music, Sculthorpe refers to this tune as a “Torres Strait Dance-Song,”93 but the

original preface to the score stated simply that “the main melody contains some

characteristics of the music of Torres Strait.” The revised composer’s note takes the

middle ground, stating that “the main melody is based upon a Torres Strait Dance-

Song.”94 The indigenous melody that served as source-material for Sculthorpe was

collected by ethnomusicologist Jeremy Beckett in the 1960s.95 Table 1-4 gives a list of

works containing the “Torres Strait-Dance-Song.”

Table 1-4. Works Containing the “Torres Strait Dance-Song”

Title Date Instrumentation Nourlangie 1989 guitar concerto Little Nourlangie 1990 organ concerto From Nourlangie 1993 piano quartet

(4) The “Estatico” Melody of Tropic

The preface to Tropic describes this melody as a “free adaptation” of a Torres Strait

melody.96 Again, the original indigenous melody was collected by Jeremy Beckett.

Table 1-5 contains a list of works employing this melody.

93 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 257. 94 Both versions of the composer's note appear in my copy of the score: Nourlangie (London:

Faber Music Ltd., 1989). 95 See Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 81. The source of this melody was

Traditional Music of Torres Strait [sound recording], compiled by Jeremy Beckett; musical analysis and transcriptions by Trevor A. Jones (Canberra: Australian Institute of Aboriginal Studies, 1981). This item is seen in the library of the University of Sydney where Sculthorpe taught.

96 Sculthorpe, Tropic (London: Faber Music Ltd., 1992).

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Table 1-5. Works Containing the “Estatico” Melody

Title Date Instrumentation Dream Tracks 1992 for violin, clarinet and piano Tropic 1992 2 guitars, violin, double-bass, clarinet, and percussion] Island Dreaming 1996 mezzo-soprano and string quartet

1-7. Stylistic Consistency: a “Musical Language”?

Sculthorpe’s guitar works display many stylistic qualities that have existed throughout

his oeuvre. We may even speak of “musical language” (in a metaphorical sense), to

suggest that the degree of stylistic consistency is such that a musical syntax might

actually be established--although our understanding of the workings of this musical

language and its inherent syntactical laws remains in the embryonic stage, at best.

Indeed, the metaphor of “musical language” is one that Sculthorpe has employed himself.

In an interview with Andrew Ford in the book Composer to Composer, Sculthorpe is

asked “what is your quest?” In his response, he states that “[i]t’s all bound up in trying

to create my own language.”97 Hayes also speaks of Sculthorpe’s “search for his own

musical language.”98 Indeed, this has been the challenge of many composers since

around 1900, with the loss of a common-practice, and it is a problem that has only

become more acute in the multifarious confusion of the post-modern musical era. Yet

not every composer has such a self-consistent and well-defined sense of style. Some

composers create a radically different “language” and aesthetic in every individual work.

We should therefore modify the earlier suggestion that Sculthorpe is an “archetypal”

post-modernist in his eclectic blend of cultural influences, qualifying it to explain his rare

uniformity and stylistic consistency. Sculthorpe’s music is always instantly recognizable

as his own, yet it always manages to sound refreshing and new, even when reusing one of

97 Andrew Ford, “As Simple As That: Peter Sculthorpe,” 40. 98 Hayes, Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 11.

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his characteristic melodies, or recycling older music. Indeed, Covell points out that it is

precisely because of this stylistic consistency that Sculthorpe is able to recycle so

successfully.99

Certain musical characteristics have remained a hallmark of Sculthorpe’s music

since very early in his career. Indeed, in 1969, the composer wrote about his emerging

stylistic consistency citing the pivotal nature of his early Sonatina for piano of 1954.100

He identifies seven key characteristics found in this work that remained relevant to his

music up till that time (1969). Even more remarkably, many of these characteristics can

still be heard in his music today. Although some aspects of the Sonatina might seem

somewhat old-fashioned and sentimental compared to Sculthorpe’s later works, it should

be pointed out that in 1954 the work was too modern for the Australian Broadcasting

Corporation, who described it as “not suitable for broadcast purposes.”101 This

presumably reflects not so much on the modernity of Sculthorpe’s compositions but

rather at the conservative tastes of musicians in an Australian musical landscape that was

still somewhat of a colonial backwater. The point is that Sculthorpe’s style has retained a

remarkable stylistic consistency and integrity throughout the winds of change. The

hegemony of the avant-garde has come and gone, but Sculthorpe remains consistent to

his own musical voice.

In the article in question (written for the now defunct Australian journal Music

Now), Sculthorpe identified seven significant characteristics (paraphrased below).

(1) The chord which came to be known as the “Woolharra” chord after the

Sydney suburb of the composer’s residence.102

99 Roger Covell, “Sculthorpe, Peter (Joshua),” in The New Grove Dictionary of Music Online ed. L. Macy (accessed 10 March 2001), <http://www.grovemusic.com>.

100 Peter Sculthorpe, “Sculthorpe on Sculthorpe,” Music Now 1/1 (Feb 1969): 7-13. 101 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 32. 102 Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 15, outlines how Sculthorpe’s students began

informally using this name “Woolharra” chord. Hayes also points out that pianist and composer Miriam

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(2) Symmetry in musical form (“symmetrical bar patterns”).

(3) Repetition.

(4) Symmetry in pitch constructions (“symmetrical melodic patterns”).

(5) The “exploitation of a special instrumental color.”

(6) Characteristic intervals of the falling minor second and minor third.

(7) A musical program.

Almost all of these qualities can easily be demonstrated in the guitar works. I distill the

following four characteristics from Sculthorpe’s list as having the most relevance with

respect to Sculthorpe’s more recent works. I list them in order of declining importance.

(1) A musical program.

(2) “Growth by accretion” (which relates to repetition).

(3) The love of symmetry (in both pitch organization and form).

(4) A predilection for the semitone interval.

In his autobiography, Sculthorpe relates that the Sonatina “firmly established that all

[his] music would be based upon a program of some kind.” Sculthorpe has long

expressed a belief that this is appropriate to Australia, which is very much “a visual

country” in the state of its arts, and perhaps not ready for an abstract music of its own.103

Sculthorpe’s programs are therefore often pictorial in some way, or at least describe an

emotional reaction to a place or landscape rather than a story. A number of especially

Hyde refers to this sonority as the “Sculthorpe chord,” in introducing her public performances of Sculthorpe’s works. Roger Covell in “Sculthorpe, Peter (Joshua)” in The New Grove (available online at http://www.grovemusic.com, 2001) also refers to the use of the term “Woolharra” chord but incorrectly describes the chord as “a stack of 3rds intersected by an augmented 4th.” As Hayes makes clear, the “Woolharra” chord makes its most prominent appearance at the beginning of Sculthorpe’s Sonatina of 1954. The composer himself describes it in “Sculthorpe on Sculthorpe,” Music Now 1/1 (Feb 1969): 10, where he cites it in a list of stylistic features displayed by the Sonatina that became a hallmark of his later style. In the composer’s words, the chord in question is “made up of two pairs of major 7ths superimposed at the interval of [major] third”. The precise pitches of the chord are (from bottom to top) G-B-F#-A# (not G-B-F-A, as Covell’s description would imply), forming the set-class [0145].

103 Sculthorpe, “Sculthorpe on Sculthorpe,” 11.

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frequent conceptual ideas emerge in his musical programs and in the music itself. These

are:

(1) Obsession with the landscape.

This has already been outlined extensively. Sculthorpe’s Sun Music series are perhaps

the apotheosis of his vividly pictorial style. His Kakadu-period works concern the

landscapes of Kakadu National Park in particular, but are less focused on portraying the

sonic or visual features of this environment than with expressing man’s feelings and

relationship to the land.

(2) Loneliness.

In a program note to his String Quartet No.9 (1979), Sculthorpe wrote that “the persistent

theme of my music has been man and nature, or, more exactly, the lonely figure in the

landscape.”104 This tendency comes to the fore in Sculthorpe’s early Irkanda series

(“Irkanda” meaning a remote and lonely place). With the Irkanda series, loneliness

represents man’s (especially white man’s) reaction to the vastness of the Australian

landscape. David Matthews observes parallels with the paintings of Russell Drysdale, a

close friend of Sculthorpe who often depicted the “lonely figure in desolate outback

surroundings.” Matthews also cites Sculthorpe’s solo cello piece Requiem, as the

apotheosis of the “lonely figure” pieces.105 The aura of the lonely figure arguably makes

its presence felt in Sculthorpe’s solo guitar works, such as the melancholy opening of

From Kakadu, in its setting of the “Elcho Island Lament.” This contrasts with the more

contented passages of From Kakadu, such as the second and fourth movements.

(3) The evocation of ritual.

This arguably reaches an apotheosis in Sculthorpe’s opera Rites of Passage (1972-73)

which presents a rich conglomeration of words, music, and dance portraying Aranda

104 The full program note is listed in Hayes, Sculthorpe: a Bio-Bibliography, 62 and quoted by

Hayes in her excellent introductory essay, 9. 105 David Matthews, “Peter Sculthorpe At 60,” Tempo 170 (Sept 1989):12.

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Aboriginal rituals of initiation, death, and rebirth. Several of Sculthorpe’s works also

employ elements of the Catholic mass. The evocation of primitive ritual is often

suggested in Sculthorpe’s music where the use of relentless repetition occurs.106

The Sonatina is also particularly significant in that in this work Sculthorpe

developed a formula for the use of repetition, which is particularly significant in that it

went against his early compositional training, where he had been taught that repetition

should be avoided.107 Sculthorpe’s use of repetition has often been described in the

literature as “growth by accretion,” for its repetition of small cells that are gradually

varied over time.108

Despite its overwhelming consistency, Sculthorpe’s musical style has also

evolved in subtle ways. Over the years, the following ideas have emerged as significant

in his music.

(1) The unashamed love of melody.109

(2) Using melodic material of indigenous origin.

This may be done in quotation, adaptation or imitation.

(3) The reworking of music from his earlier pieces.

(4) The use of rhythmic patterning and process.

This includes techniques of addition, subtraction, isometric effects, and phase

techniques.110

106 Hannan gives a description of ritualistic repetition in Sculthorpe’s music in the article “Peter

Sculthorpe,” in Australian Composition in the Twentieth Century, 137. 107 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 31. 108 See footnote 29. 109 Saying “I like writing tunes,” Sculthorpe readily admits to be a melodist--quoted in Hayes,

Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 6. Hayes quotes Ford, “Peter Sculthorpe At 60,” in Speaking of Music..: A Selection of Talks from ABC Radio by Eminent Musicians, Composers and Conductors, ed. by Jan Balodis and Tony Cane (Sydney: ABC Enterprises, 1990), 186-209. See also Matthews, "Peter Sculthorpe At 60," 17. Not only is Sculthorpe an unashamed melodist, he is unashamed about reusing the same ones from work to work.

110 See Cumming, “Encountering Mangrove: An Essay in Signification,” 206-20 and Ford, “As

Simple As That: Peter Sculthorpe,” 43.

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(5) The use of simple sectional formal structures.

That is, that the music exists in clear, distinct blocks of material (which obviously relates

to the idea of structural punctuation), and usually exhibits simple returning structures

such as palindromes or rondos. Remarking on this quality of his music, Sculthorpe notes

that “the fact that [he] reject[s] the complex European techniques of development means

that returning structures are absolutely essential in [his] music.”111

(6) The use of musical structural punctuation.

This is accomplished by emphasizing points of structural juncture using percussion, or by

employing returning motives in transition passages.112

(7) Harmonies influenced by Asian music.

In particular, Sculthorpe’s harmonies (and melodies) are influenced by the Japanese in-

scale, and the pentatonic scale (which is often associated with quartal harmonies).

(8) A harmonic system that functions analogously to tonic-dominant polarity.

That is, it has “home” and “away” sonorities. The actual component sonorities, however,

are different from conventional tonality. This manifests itself in different ways, in

different pieces. I do note, however, some striking similarities in the harmonic “syntax”

of works setting pentatonic melodies in Sculthorpe’s guitar music, particularly

Nourlangie and Tropic.

(9) The use of the sonority [0157].

This chord is rampant throughout Sculthorpe’s guitar music (as we shall see in

subsequent chapters) and I propose that if any chord truly deserves to be called the

“Sculthorpe” chord, this is it. Oddly enough, the prevalence of this chord in Sculthorpe’s

later music has not been noted previously in the literature. I suggest that this chord is

111 Hannan and Sculthorpe, "Rites of Passage," Music Now II/22 (Dec 1974): 18. 112 See footnote 42: Hannan, Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas, 68. This theme is developed

throughout Hannan’s book. See “Punctuation” in the index p.232 for multiple references, and “colotomic structure” in the glossary, p.224.

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perfectly suited to Sculthorpe’s recent idiom in that it unites aspects of his earlier

semitone-rich style and his recent forays into the use of the pentatonic scale (which is

anhemitonic). This sonority is a subset of the in-scale, and also contains the quartal

subset [027], enabling easy interaction with quintessentially pentatonic music. [0157] is

frequently expressed in Sculthorpe’s music as a quartal sonority plus a verticalized

semitone neighbor. It often has an “away” function (analogous to a dominant), helping

to define tonal center (as we shall see).

1-8. The Aims of This Study

The ensuing chapter, “Sculthorpe and the Guitar” gives an overview of Sculthorpe’s

compositional output for the guitar. The remaining chapters of this project focus on a

select group of works. They are more detailed analytical studies of four works for the

guitar that I consider Sculthorpe’s greatest: Nourlangie, Tropic, From Kakadu, and Into

the Dreaming.

The analyses aim to demonstrate how the philosophical ideas and influences

outlined in this chapter manifest themselves in Sculthorpe’s guitar music, and inform

meaning. They also aim to demonstrate the workings of my list of prototypical musical

traits forming Sculthorpe’s compositional “language,” a list that was derived both from

the literature, and my own observations. These analyses are particularly interested in

investigating the consistency of Sculthorpe’s musical language, and how it functions in

terms of structural unity and tonality--in ways that are sometimes similar to, and

sometimes different from the music of the common-practice era. Although involving

discussions of a technical nature, I often integrate analysis and hermeneutics (particularly

in chapter 4), investigating not just the workings of this musical language, but the

possible meanings evoked.

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Ultimately, these analyses are made with the aim of providing information useful

to performers, probing the mysteries behind the curious power of Sculthorpe’s music,

with the hope that the knowledge gained can produce richer musical performances. For

it is my belief that Sculthorpe has created works for the guitar of significant stature and

lasting value, works that merit frequent performance and informed enjoyment.

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CHAPTER 2: Sculthorpe and the Guitar

2-1. A Brief History

Almost all of Sculthorpe’s music for the guitar has come about due to his friendship with

guitarist John Williams. Sculthorpe has repeatedly mentioned that he prefers to compose

with specific performers in mind, and in particular, for performers with whom he has a

personal relationship.113 Although born in Australia, Williams moved to London at the

age of eleven (with his family) so that he could study with Andrés Segovia.

Consequently, he lost touch with his Australian identity, thinking of himself as more of a

Londoner. Williams relationship with Sculthorpe has coincided with his rediscovery of

Australian identity. In recent decades he has been a frequent visitor to Australia,

appearing in solo recital, with Australian orchestras, and as the regular principal

attraction at the Shell Darwin International Guitar Festival.

Sculthorpe has cultivated a particularly close relationship with the Shell Darwin

International Guitar Festival, where he has been a regular feature on the program. This

festival is the brainchild of the energetic guitarist, teacher, and entrepreneur Adrian

Walter (a lecturer/professor at the Northern Territory University). Walter has been

tireless in his efforts to promote Australian music and is to be credited for the instigation

of a large number of recent works by Sculthorpe commissioned by the festival for various

performers (John Williams and others).

Although Sculthorpe’s relationship with the guitar began relatively late in his

career, he has produced a prodigious list of works involving the guitar, shown in Table 2-

1 (available works) and Table 2-2 (unavailable works). Sculthorpe has also written

113 See, for instance, N. Uscher, “Peter Sculthorpe: Responding to Nature,” Strings 5 (Nov/Dec

1990): 49. See Deborah Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1993), 7 for multiple similar references.

50

several relatively recent works for guitar, such as the Darwin Calypso for two guitars and

strings (2002). Furthermore, an arrangement of Djilile (originally for cello and piano,

1986) for solo guitar in collaboration with Steve Wingfield is forthcoming.

Table 2-1. Sculthorpe’s Guitar Works (Currently Available)

Title Date Instrumentation Cantares 1979 10 assorted guitars and string quartet Nourlangie 1989 Guitar concerto Tropic 1992 Two guitars, violin, clarinet, double-bass, percussion From Kakadu 1993 Solo guitar Into the Dreaming 1994 Solo guitar Simori 1995 Flute and guitar Love-Song 1997 Guitar and strings ‘’ 1999 Version for guitar and string quartet Darwin Calypso 2002 Two guitars and strings ‘’ 2002 Version for two guitars Sea Chant 2002 Two guitars

Table 2-2. Other Guitar Works by Sculthorpe (Unavailable)

Title Date Instrumentation Fate The Splendour and the Peaks 1963 Documentary film score Missing including solo guitar music The Visions of Captain Quiros 1980 Guitar concerto Withdrawn Nocturne 1980 Solo guitar Withdrawn

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2-2. Writing Idiomatically for the Guitar

As a non-guitarist composer, Sculthorpe has taken a rather cautious approach to writing

for the instrument. The guitar has long been considered a challenging instrument to write

for, and popular belief has counseled that only guitarists could write successfully in an

idiomatic114 fashion. This belief can be traced back to Berlioz, who notes in his Grand

traité d’instrumentation et d’orchestration modernes op.10 (1843), that “it is almost

impossible to write well for the guitar without being a player on the instrument.”115

Indeed, this statement may have influenced the decision of most prominent nineteenth-

century composers to avoid writing for the guitar.

In the twentieth-century, however, non-playing composers are to be credited with

some of the most cherished works in the guitar repertoire. Yet Berlioz undoubtedly had a

point. Guitarists, with their intimate knowledge of the fingerboard and guitar technique,

are most ideally positioned to write effectively, or idiomatically. But the most common

failings of non-guitarist composers are seldom a failure to exploit the sonic possibilities

of the instrument in an imaginative way. Rather, the problems are typically more

mundane, involving music that is excessively difficult (or impossible), or music that is

difficult to an extent that is far out of proportion to the rewards of the musical effects

created. The best writing for the guitar is technically economical but musically rich. All

too often, guitar music contains an excessively difficult phrase of little musical substance

that could have been rendered much more easily and effectively on the piano. One could

speak of a ratio of rewards versus difficulty. A high rewards to difficulty ratio is

desirable. A very low rewards to difficulty ratio will effectively preclude the possibility

114 My use of the term “idiomatic” here refers to the more general sense of the word, implying a

composition that successfully exploits the capabilities of the instrument, and not to the use of compositional cliches common to a particular musical era--although there is often considerable correlation between these two senses of the word.

115 See Harvey Turnball and Paul Sparks, “Guitar, §5 The Early Six String Guitar,” in The New

Grove Dictionary of Music Online ed. L. Macy (Accessed 6 Jan 2003), <http://www.grovemusic.com>.

52

of the work enjoying an extended life-span of actual performances. For the majority of

performers, such a work is simply not worth the effort involved.

English composer Stephen Dodgson, a prolific composer for the guitar, proposes

a philosophy of more is less, in effective guitar writing: More and more I’ve come to think of the guitar as a melody instrument. When the player’s concentration is upon a single line, the expressive projection is at a maximum. Too much harmony cramps the hand, dulls the sound, and impedes the movement.116

Often composers are afraid of writing sparsely textured music for the guitar, being under

the mistaken assumption that guitar music should be something akin to piano music.

While thickly textured music is possible on the guitar, it is often so difficult that the

interpretative possibilities open to the player are limited. Sparser textured music allows

the performer greater latitude for expressive playing and often achieves more satisfactory

results in the end.

In his canon of works for the guitar, Sculthorpe seems to have followed similar

advice, taking a cautious approach to writing for the instrument. One of the reasons that I

love the guitar music of Sculthorpe is that it has such a high ratio of musical rewards to

technical difficulty. Sculthorpe’s approach to writing for the guitar could also be called

somewhat conservative. Unlike some other composers of his generation, Sculthorpe does

not appear particularly interested in extending the boundaries of guitar technique in

innovative ways. His use of extended instrumental techniques on the guitar has been

minimal. The greatness of his music for the guitar is primarily in the musical language

created by the notes themselves (hence my particular interest in unraveling these secrets).

Sculthorpe’s conservative approach to the guitar is probably partly due to his

collaboration with John Williams. Williams appears to have somewhat conservative

tastes, having avoided performing some of the greatest avant-garde works for the guitar,

116 L. Bosman, “Stephen Dodgson,” Guitar Magazine (March 1983):18. Quoted in Nicola Culf, “The Guitar Works of Stephen Dodgson: use of the guitar,” Classical Guitar 9/2 (Oct 1990): 35.

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including Alberto Ginastera’s Sonata Op.47, and Hans Werner Henze’s Royal Winter

Music Sonata. Williams’ aversion to the extended use of the guitar as a percussion

instrument is also understandable, due to his preference for the Australian-made

Smallman guitar, with its ultra-thin top. To a certain extent, when non-guitarist

composers write extended instrumental effects for the guitar, it arguably often results

from the collaboration with a particular performer who is keen to share what other

composer’s have done (in terms of extended techniques), and suggest new possibilities.

In contrast, Williams has repeatedly articulated that his preferred approach to interaction

with composers is to let them write what they want (without trying to influence them) and

then to do his best as an editor to make it work on the instrument.

In many ways, writing music for the solo guitar is much harder than writing

chamber works for guitar with other instruments. Consequently, Sculthorpe’s decision to

train himself in how to write for the instrument by beginning with ensemble music was

probably an intelligent decision. His first major foray into writing for the guitar was the

ensemble piece Cantares (1979). His second major undertaking for the guitar was the

mammoth concerto, The Visions of Captain Quiros (1980). As we shall see, the lack of

virtuosity in the guitar part may have contributed to its lack of critical acclaim.

Sculthorpe subsequently withdrew the work, and a short guitar solo fashioned from one

of its cadenzas (Nocturne, 1980) was also withdrawn.

Parts of The Visions of Captain Quiros were later refashioned into two new

works: the guitar concerto Nourlangie (1989), and the solo piece From Kakadu (1993).

These works arguably represent Sculthorpe’s most significant contributions to the guitar

repertoire, and they are probably also his most effective exploitations of the instrument.

However, both works represent the fruits of a long and arduous process of revision. For

Sculthorpe is a composer for whom compositional polish is a matter of personal pride.

Both works are quite effective in their exploitation of the sonic possibilities of the guitar,

frequently exploiting open strings in order to achieve a fuller texture or more sound.

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Indeed, Sculthorpe has often been prepared to sacrifice the purity of his compositional

conceptions to the practical demands of the instrument, or perhaps to modify them to suit

the instrument. As we shall see, the use of the octatonic in Nourlangie was modified to

include open strings on the guitar that do not belong to the octatonic collection.

As concertos go, Nourlangie is not difficult. Yet it still manages to convey the

impression of grandeur, and at times virtuosity. On the other hand, the work From

Kakadu, has some unique technical challenges for the player. With the fourth movement

("Cantando") in particular, it is simply not possible to keep all the voices of the

counterpoint ringing for their full notated value. In many instances, keeping all voices

ringing is still technically possible, but not desirable since it can only be achieved

through excessively awkward fingerings, or through fingerings that produce poor voicing

in terms of timbre.117. For this reason, the fingerings on the published score, edited by

John Williams, often choose to drop one pitch before the end of its full notated value in

order to allow another voice to proceed with a more natural voicing (employing

fingerings that proceed on the same string or adjacent strings, where possible). The last

movement of From Kakadu, “Cantando,” is certainly not easy. But in comparison to the

general level of technical awkwardness in most works by non-guitarist composers, it is by

no means excessive. It has also benefited enormously from the collaboration of

Williams, whose masterful fingering solutions forge a comfortable path for other

guitarists to follow.118 Sculthorpe also credits the advice of a number of other players for

their practical input in the editing process. 119

117 Any one pitch on the guitar can be produced on a number of different strings, but each string has its own unique timbre. Abrupt changes of timbre within the phrase of a single musical line produce disjointed phrasing. In playing a melodic line that moves by step, for instance, it is usually preferable to keep one musical voice on the same string, or at least to avoid large jumps from treble string to bass string.

118 Williams provided fingerings for the twin printed edition of From Kakadu and Into the

Dreaming (London: Faber Music, 1994). 119 The printed edition credits Stephen Bull and Phillip Bolliger for advice on From Kakadu and

Barton McDonald for suggestions on Into the Dreaming.

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Before the completion of From Kakadu, Sculthorpe also produced the ensemble

work, Tropic (1992), which includes parts for two guitars, violin, clarinet, bass, and

percussion. As with Cantares, I would posit that writing this ensemble work enabled

Sculthorpe to continue the learning process of how to write an economical but effective

guitar part.

Into the Dreaming (1994) is Sculthorpe’s last work for solo guitar and is probably

Sculthorpe’s most successful work for the guitar in terms of being idiomatic for the

instrument. The score is very sparse, yet surprisingly effective. This is the mature

product of a composer has learnt the truth of Dodgson’s assessment of writing effectively

for the guitar (that less is more). Into the Dreaming utilizes the full range of the guitar

and exploits the full resonance of the instrument through the use of open strings. To

achieve the desired registers (the main tune appears three time in three different octaves)

and tonal centers, it employs a scordatura (tuning the fifth string down to G, and the sixth

string down to D--the least common of the standard scordatura employed).

In recent years, Sculthorpe has continued to write chamber music involving the

guitar, with the works Simori (1995, for guitar and flute), the concertant works Love-Song

(1997, for guitar and strings), Darwin Calypso (2002, for two guitars and strings), and

Sea Chant (2002, for two guitars). Each of these works continues Sculthorpe’s tendency

to write easy, economical guitar parts. Indeed, for a concertant work, Love-Song is a

surprisingly simple work, and would be ideally suited for intermediate-level students.

Subsequent chapters of this study are analytical examinations of four works in

particular that I consider to be of the greatest significance: Nourlangie (chapter three)

Tropic (chapter four), From Kakadu (chapter five), and Into the Dreaming (chapter six).

Before embarking on these more detailed studies, I aim to provide here a brief synopsis

of each of Sculthorpe’s guitar works, in chronological order

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2-3. A Synopsis of the Guitar Works

The Splendour and the Peaks (1963)

This work was a documentary film score that included music for solo guitar,

commissioned by the Commonwealth Film Unit, Sydney. The recent work, Sea Chant

(for two guitars, 2002) is taken from the music of The Splendour and the Peaks. The

original score, now missing, consisted mainly of variations built upon the music seen in

Sea Chant.120

Cantares (1979)

Cantares is a large ensemble work of substantial duration (approximately twenty

minutes) scored for flamenco guitar solo, acoustic (classical) guitar solo, two additional

acoustic guitars, four electric guitars, electric bass, and string quartet. The score calls for

three “acoustic” guitars, one of them solo, but was indefinite as to whether these should

be classical guitars or ordinary acoustic steel-string guitars. The first performance,

however, had John Williams playing the “acoustic” guitar solo part (presumably on a

classical instrument). Cantares was commissioned by the Spanish Guitar Society of

Sydney and premiered at the 1980 Sydney Music Symposium at a performance

conducted by Vincent Plush and featuring an all-star ensemble. The group comprised

John Williams (classical guitar solo), Peter Balro (flamenco guitar solo), Joe Pass

(leading the electric guitars), Janos Starker leading the Petra String Quartet, and various

other guitarists from the Sydney Spanish Guitar Center. Being an ensemble work, the

guitar writing is cautious in its exploration of the possibilities of the instrument.

Nevertheless, the work as a whole was an ambitious undertaking.

120 In a personal letter to the present author, Sculthorpe writes that Sea Chant “was originally

written for the film, for solo guitar, and much of the score consisted of variations upon it.”

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Cantares employs American Indian musical material first used by Sculthorpe in

Sun Song (1976). Gregorian plainchant melodies are also used extensively. In this work,

his first substantial guitar piece, Sculthorpe exploited the traditional Hispanic idioms of

the guitar, with numerous references to traditional flamenco styles. In the preface,

Sculthorpe writes the following:

This work started out with the idea in mind of the conquest of Mexico. During the process of writing it, however, it became somewhat more abstract. Although the work is continuous, it is divided into seven clear-cut sections: 1) Introit, (2) Kyrie, (3) Ego sum resurrectio, (4) Dies irae, (5) Sanctus, (6) In paradisum, (7) Benedictio.

Cantares, then, follows the shape of the Catholic Requiem Mass, and several sections employ Gregorian Chant. All the same, the work is optimistic, being concerned, above all, with the death and rebirth of cultures. In the third section, for instance, the string quartet suggests the music of the Aztec; this music is transformed and lives vibrantly again at the end of the work.121

The Visions of Captain Quiros (1980)

The Visions of Captain Quiros was a guitar concerto of lengthy duration (approximately

32 minutes)122 written for guitarist John Williams, and subsequently withdrawn.

Commissioned by the Australian Broadcasting Corporation, it was performed at the

Sydney Opera House with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra in 1980. It is a single-

movement work in seven sections: “First Vision,” “Preparation,” “The Pacific,” “Second

Vision,” “The South Land of the Holy Spirit,” “Disillusionment,” and “Last Vision.”

The three key “visions” are mostly built around variations of the “Elcho Island Lament,”

which was later immortalized in the orchestral piece Kakadu (1989) and first used in the

film Manganinnie in 1980 (slightly prior to the concerto). There are several other

121 Composer’s note in Sculthorpe, Cantares (London: Faber Music Ltd., 1980). 122

Sculthorpe writes 27 minutes on the score but Hayes cites 32 minutes, which is presumably a revised number closer to the actual performance time.

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important themes, many of them of octatonic derivation (as will be examined in the next

chapter).

The subject of the work takes its inspiration from the epic poem of Australian

poet James McAuley concerning the Portuguese-born Spanish explorer, Pedro Fernandez

de Quiros, who was obsessed with the notion of discovering the great southern continent.

Quiros was also the subject of an opera by Sculthorpe in 1982. A major work, and

Sculthorpe’s second opera, this was broadcast on ABC television (Australian

Broadcasting Corporation). Presumably, the opera recycles material from the guitar

concerto.123 The Visions of Captain Quiros, which has now been withdrawn, became

source material for the guitar concerto Nourlangie (1989) and the solo From Kakadu

(1993). Despite its withdrawal, I would argue that this work--which I know only from

the score--is of a high quality and was a significant landmark in the development of

Sculthorpe’s compositional style.

Nocturne (1980)

In 1980, Sculthorpe fashioned a solo piece entitled Nocturne based on music from The

Visions of Captain Quiros, but the work is now withdrawn and unavailable. This work

was an extension of the solo cadenza in “Part VI: Disillusionment” of The Visions of

Captain Quiros that bears the indication “come Notturno”--a section which employs a

scordatura, tuning the sixth string of the guitar down to Db. Sculthorpe admits that he

simply wasn’t quite happy with it but that at some stage in the future he may work on the

piece again.124

123 See Deborah Hayes, “A Musical Vision of Australia,” in Antipodes: A North American Journal

of Australian Literature 12/2 (Dec 1998): 78. 124 In phone conversations with the present author.

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Nourlangie (1989)

Nourlangie is a concerto for guitar, strings and percussion of approximately twenty

minutes duration. Along with the solo work From Kakadu, this piece is undoubtedly one

of Sculthorpe’s masterworks for the instrument. It was commissioned by the Australian

Chamber Orchestra and written for John Williams who recorded it for Sony in 1994 on

the disc From Australia [SK 53361]. The piece concerns Nourlangie Rock, a towering

monolith in Kakadu National Park of immense spiritual significance to the aboriginal

owners (not to be confused with Uluru or Ayer’s Rock, Sculthorpe’s inspiration for Into

the Dreaming--see page 62). Much of the work is derived from the earlier concerto, The

Visions of Captain Quiros, with the prominent addition of a Torres Strait melody

collected by ethnomusicologist Jeremy Beckett in the 1960s.125 This melody has

subsequently become one of the composer’s favorite “Kakadu songlines,” used

repeatedly in other works. A full account of the composer’s preface is given in the

introductory discussion preceding the analysis in chapter three, page 71.

Tropic (1992)

Tropic was written for the unusual performing group, Attacca, which included guitarists

John Williams and Timothy Kain along with other prominent Australian performers on

clarinet, violin, double-bass, and percussion. It is a work of medium length (some 14

minutes long) and is essentially an arrangement of the composer’s own work Dream

Tracks written for the American ensemble Verdehr Trio (clarinet, violin, and piano) in

1992. Dream Tracks has been recorded by the Verdehr Trio on The Making of a

Medium, Volume 5: The Verdehr Trio (Crystal Records, 1997)[No.745], but Tropic is yet

125 See Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 81. The source of this melody is Traditional

Music of Torres Strait [sound recording], compiled by Jeremy Beckett; musical analysis and transcriptions by Trevor A. Jones (Canberra: Australian Institute of Aboriginal Studies, 1981). This item is seen in the library of the University of Sydney where Sculthorpe taught.

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to be recorded for commercial release. However, excerpts do appear in a documentary on

the life of John Williams made for Australian television.

Tropic employs several indigenous melodies including Sculthorpe’s favorite,

“Djilile.” “Djilile” is used in much the same fashion as in the orchestral work, Kakadu

(1988) along with the associated cor-anglais melody. In addition, Tropic employs two

melodies based on indigenous models from the Torres Strait Islands, which were also

collected by ethnomusicologist Jeremy Beckett.126 Sculthorpe writes:

Tropic was written in May 1992, especially for Attacca. Scored for clarinet, violin, two guitars, double bass and percussion, the work is one continuous movement made up of four parts: Prelude, Song, Interlude, Dance [sic.]. Almost all the music stems from my interest in the indigenous cultures of Northern Australia and the islands beyond it. While Song is based upon Whistling Duck on a Billabong [Djilile], an Arnhem Land chant much used by me, the three other section are built upon free adaptations of two melodies from Torres Strait.

The work is not intended to be of an especially programmatic nature. In writing Tropic I simply realized for the first time that the whole area that inspired it is probably my most-favored part of this earth.127

Oddly, the naming of the parts as “Prelude,” “Song,” “Interlude,” and “Dance” is

replaced in the score by their original designations in Dream Tracks as “Lontano,”

“Molto sostenuto,” “Lontano,” and “Estatico.” I quote the composer’s note to Dream

Tracks below. It outlines the composer’s philosophies with regard to melodies that recur

throughout his oeuvre. It also reveals that the opening melody (of Torres Strait origin)

comes from a children’s song. Since 1988 I have written a series of works inspired by Kakadu National Park, in the north of Australia. Some of these works have melodic material in common, the contours of each usually being transformed in some way, both within pieces and in successive pieces. I have come to regard these melodies as songlines or dreaming tracks. These are names used to describe the labyrinth of invisible pathways that, according to Aboriginal belief, are created by the totemic ancestors of all species as they sing the

126 See previous footnote. 127 Composer’s note in Sculthorpe, Tropic (London: Faber Music Ltd., 1992).

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world into existence. Dream Tracks, then, sets out to summon up the spirit of a northern Australia landscape. The work is in four sections: Lontano; Molto sostenuto; Lontano; Estatico. The first section takes as its point of departure the contours of a Torres Strait Island children’s song. This serves as an introduction to the section, which is based upon an Arnhem Land chant, Djilile, or ‘whistling-duck on a billabong.’ The third section is an extension of the first, its melodic contours also appearing in the fourth section. In this final section, however, Djilile is ever present, both in a much-transformed guise and in its original form.”128

From Kakadu (1993)

From Kakadu was commissioned by Adrian Walter for the 1993 Shell Darwin Guitar

Festival, where it was premiered by John Williams. Since its premiere, the work has

been widely acclaimed as an important contribution to the guitar repertoire. Along with

Nourlangie, it is one of Sculthorpe’s masterworks for the instrument. From Kakadu has

been recorded by John Williams in 1994 on the disc From Australia (Australia: Sony,

1994) [SK 53361], and in an arrangement for harp by Marshall McGuire on the disc

Awakening (Glebe, NSW: Tall Poppies, 1995)[TP 071]. The composer’s note is as

follows:

The terrain of Kakadu National Park, in the north of Australia, stretches from rugged mountain plateaus to coastal tidal plains. From Kakadu is the sixth work of mine that takes this terrain as its point of departure. Several of the works employ similar melodic material, and much of this work is based upon the main them of my orchestral piece Kakadu (1988).

From Kakadu is in four sections: Grave, Comodo, Misterioso, Cantando. The first and third sections are based upon the Kakadu melody; the fourth sections grows from it into a long, singing line. The work is an intimate one, being concerned with the deep contentment that I feel whenever I return to Kakadu. This feeling is ever-present in the dance-like second section, and in the singing line, and its counterpoint, of the final Cantando.129

128 This program note is seen in Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 86. 129 Composer’s note in Sculthorpe, From Kakadu and Into the Dreaming (London: Faber Music

Ltd., 1994).

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Sculthorpe seems to imply that the main theme is taken from his orchestral piece Kakadu.

However, as we shall see, this particular setting of the melody (the “Elcho Island

Lament”) actually stems from the now withdrawn guitar concerto The Visions of Captain

Quiros. The fourth movement of From Kakadu also employs a melody previously used

in Sculthorpe’s work Songs of Sea and Sky (1991), for clarinet and piano. This melody

(the principal theme of the “Cantando”) is based on a traditional tune from the island of

Saibai in the Torres Strait, collected by Jeremy Beckett in the 1960s.130

Into the Dreaming (1994)

This piece was written especially for John Williams who also recorded the work in 1994

on the disc From Australia [SK 53361]. Along with From Kakadu, the piece was also

recorded in a harp version performed by Marshall Maguire on the disc entitled

Awakening (Glebe, NSW: Tall Poppies, 1995) [TP 071].

The work is an introspective one, not virtuosic but poignantly expressive in the

composer’s own neo-tonal language. Although short (some six minutes in duration), this

piece is a real gem. The principal themes possess a child-like simplicity united with a

sense of gravity and profundity. The work is descriptive of the landscape of Uluru (or

Ayers Rock), a site of immense significance to Aboriginal spirituality, and is also

concerned with grief (see chapter six, page 214, for the composer’s note). Into the

Dreaming is a superb example of how less can truly be more in the hands of a skillful

composer.

The work began its life as a cello solo, first called Cello Dreaming, and later Into

the Dreaming.131 The cello version was premiered by David Pereira at the Eugene

130 See composer’s note in Sculthorpe, Songs of Sea and Sky (London: Faber Music Ltd., 1991).

The source of this melody was Traditional Music of Torres Strait [sound recording], compiled by Jeremy Beckett; musical analysis and transcriptions by Trevor A. Jones.

131 Sculthorpe decided to use the name Cello Dreaming for a cello concerto he wrote in 1998.

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Goossens Hall (Sydney) on October 17, 1993. At the instigation of John Williams, the

work was expanded into a longer guitar solo. A more detailed discussion of the

background of Into the Dreaming is provided in chapter six.

Simori (1995)

This short work (some eight minutes in duration) was commissioned by the 1995 Shell

Darwin International Guitar Festival and was created for the guitar and flute duo of Julian

Byzantine and Gerhard Mallon, who have recorded the work on the disc Music of the

New Worlds (French’s Forest, NSW: Walsingham Classics, 1997). According to the

composer, this piece is different from the earlier cello work of the same name (now

withdrawn).132 However, a piano version of Simori was subsequently made (which has

also been recorded).133

Simori employs a variety of innovative timbral effects for the guitar including

simulated gong sounds, and a variety of percussive effects (hitting the body of the guitar,

hitting the strings with the thumb, and hitting the strings using a cork mounted on a

knitting needle). The piece has gone through a number of revisions. Earlier versions

specified precisely which parts of the guitar are to be hit. Later versions leave these

decisions to the performer (no doubt a modification made to suit Australian players using

lattice-braced instruments, by Smallman and others, which have extremely thin tops).

The earlier version called for two types of cork material, one soft and one hard. The later

132 In phone conversations. The cello work is listed in Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-

Bibliography, 86, and has the same title and five sections based on indigenous material from New Guinea described by Jaap Kunst.

133 It has been recorded on piano by Ian Munro on the disc Mere Bagatelles (Glebe, NSW: Tall

Poppies Records, 1996), and also by Elizabeth Green on the disc Biodiversity, Volume 2: Popular Australian Piano Music Written Since 1970 (Sydney: E. Green, 2000). The piece has also been recorded in an arrangement by Duo Contemporain (consisting of bass clarinet/alto saxophone and percussion) on a disc entitled Tubemakers: Music by Australian Composers (The Netherlands: Globe, 1998).

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version achieves this contrast through the timbral difference between tambour (hitting the

strings) with the thumb versus tambour with the cork.

The music of Simori was inspired by a description of the musical styles of the

Simori mountain people of Papua New Guinea by the Dutch ethnomusicologist, Jaap

Kunst, in The Native Music of Western New Guinea (Leiden, 1931). The piece is based

upon a sequence of five song-types: (I) Yu, a war cry, (II) Wani, a song of welcome, (III)

Kamu, a song to drive away spirits, (IV) Pota, a song of mourning, (V) Yu, a cry of joy.

The original descriptions of these styles are given in Plate 1.134 Sculthorpe apparently

used some of the ideas in these descriptions as inspiration in creating the work. In his

preface to the piece (quoted in part below), Sculthorpe is careful to point out that he is not

simply trying to imitate Simori music: The work does not set out to sound like Simori music, nor does it seek to depict the highlands of the central-west of Papua New Guinea: it is more an exploration of ideas suggested by the music of the Simori people. Owing to the destruction of their habitat, through logging, these people are now wholly dispersed.135

Despite this more abstract approach, the piece effuses a primitivist anger and energy.

The resulting music is extremely repetitive (in a minimalist way) and uses some

particularly acrid dissonances.

Love-Song (1997)

This is a short concertant work for guitar and strings of approximately nine minutes in

duration. It was commissioned by the Darwin International Guitar Festival and

premiered at the festival by John Williams in 1997, with the Darwin Symphony

Orchestra, conducted by Martin Jarvis. Love-Song is a simple and accessible work.

134 Here taken from Jaapp Kunst, Music in New Guinea: Three Studies, transl. by Jeune Scott-

Kemball, in Verhandelingen, Vol.53 (‘S. Gravenhage: Martinus Nijhoff, 1967). 135 Composer’s note in Sculthorpe, Simori (London: Faber Music Ltd., 1995).

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Moreover, it is the antithesis of virtuosity, being very easy to play. It would be an ideal

concerto for younger students but, unfortunately, a piano reduction has not yet been

made. Sculthorpe’s reluctance to write an overly challenging work is perhaps also

motivated by his intimate knowledge of the performing forces--the Darwin Symphony

Orchestra being a semi-professional orchestra comprised primarily of students. The

composer writes:

This work was began at a time in my life when, owing to many pressures, I felt that I needed a long-overdue holiday. Unable to take a holiday, I decided, instead, to take pleasure in writing a work both loving and warm, a simple work filled with thoughts of friends and friendly places.

In one movement, the music grows from the falling intervals played by the guitar at the outset. The work is made up of five sections: the first is expanded in the last; the second is emphasized in the fourth; and the third section acts as an interlude. Inevitably, in writing the music, I was inspired by the idea of the work receiving its first performance out-of-doors, its gentle harmonies drifting in tropical evening air.136

Darwin Calypso (2002)

This work for two guitar and strings was written for the 2002 Darwin International

Guitar Festival where it was premiered by Craig Ogden and Geoffrey Morris with the

Darwin Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Martin Jarvis. It continues the trend in

Sculthorpe’s most recent guitar works towards an increasingly light and accessible style.

The work is unusual stylistic foray for Sculthorpe in its adoption of the idioms of popular

South American music, demonstrating the composer’s ability to master and assimilate

any musical material he chooses. Sculthorpe writes: While I have never been to Latin America, I have always imagined it to be easy-going and, at the same time, highly-charged with energy. Certainly this describes Darwin, as I perceive it. It was not difficult, therefore, to write a piece for the northern capital using the rhythms, melodic contours and harmonic progressions of Latin American music. Darwin Calypso is in three parts. The first part, a

136 Composer’s note in Sculthorpe, Love-Song (London: Faber Music Ltd., 1997).

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calypso, is mirrored by the third, while the central part, which is slower, suggest the languor of tropical nights.137

Darwin Calypso is short in duration (ca. seven and a half minutes) but the guitar writing

is fuller and more virtuosic than Love-Song, demonstrating a mature grasp of idiomatic

writing for the classical guitar. The work also exists in a version for two guitars, which is

effective yet lacks some of the sensuousness of the version for two guitars and strings.

Sea Chant (2002)

This short work (ca. 2’ 30”) sounds much like a sea-shanty in its combination of G

aeolian/phyrgian modality with a catchy tune and gently rocking accompaniment.

Although written originally as background music for a documentary film, the music still

retains much that is distinctly Sculthorpe, utilizing some of his familiar sonorities, yet

harnessing their harmonic implications in a more conventional tonal environment.

Sculthorpe writes: Sea Chant began life as a piece for solo guitar, written in 1963 for The Splendour and the Peaks, a documentary film about Tasmania, my home-state [sic.]. Over the years, I have made many arrangements of it, including a version for unison voices and orchestra, with words by Roger Covell. This present arrangement was made especially for performance at the 2002 Darwin International Guitar Festival. I have used the same tuning [a scordatura in the second guitar part] as Darwin Calypso, for two guitars. It may, therefore, be performed after this work with little pause.138

137 Excerpt from the composer’s note in Sculthorpe, Darwin Calypso, for two guitars and strings

(Faber Music Ltd., 2002). My copy of the score was provided in advance of the official publication, courtesy of the composer. Some revisions remain to be made.

138 Composer’s note in Sculthorpe, Sea Chant (Faber Music Ltd., 2002).

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CHAPTER 3: A Guitar Concerto

3-1. An Arduous Journey and Programmatic Metamorphosis

Nourlangie was not Sculthorpe’s first attempt at writing a guitar concerto, for in 1980 he

had written the prodigious work The Visions of Captain Quiros. This was indeed a

substantial and significant piece. As one critic wrote, “Visions of Captain Quiros is a

major work, breaking new ground for Sculthorpe and for Australian composition.”139 The

subject matter also held special appeal to Sculthorpe’s nationalistic inclinations, and

became the focus of his second opera.

The Visions of Captain Quiros was inspired by the epic poem of Australian poet

James McAuley concerning the sixteenth century Portuguese-born Spanish explorer,

Pedro Fernandez de Quiros, who was obsessed with the notion of discovering the great

southern continent. Sculthorpe notes that while all Protestant Australians are taught that

Captain James Cook discovered Australia, for a while, Catholics were taught--albeit

incorrectly--that it was Quiros.140 Quiros is certainly an important, if enigmatic, figure in

the history of Australia. Sculthorpe’s program note to his opera Quiros (1982) provide

an excellent overview of the tale and its significance for the nation.

Following his first voyage in the Pacific Ocean in 1595, Pedro Fernandez de Quiros, a Portuguese who sailed for Spain, became completely obsessed with the then common belief that there was a great land mass in the Southern Hemisphere balancing the continents of the north. Quiros set out from Callao in late December, 1605, and arrived at what he believed to be Terra Australis at the end of April, 1606. This place he named ‘La Australia del Espiritu Santo.’ It was not, however, the south land of which he had dreamed; it was the New Hebridean

139 Quoted as appears in Deborah Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography (Westport, Conn.:

Greenwood Press, 1993), 214, which is taken from Jill Sykes, “Orchestral Work Features Guitar,” Sydney Morning Herald (8 July 1980): 8.

140 Peter Sculthorpe, Sun Music: Journey’s and Reflections from a Composer’s Life (Adelaide:

Griffin Press, 1999), 228.

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island known since that time as Espiritu Santo. Later, disillusioned, Quiros spent the rest of his life vainly trying to raise money for a third voyage. His obsession persisted until his death; and his legacy to posterity was that through his published writings subsequent navigators were more easily able to locate the unknown continent.141

Given the depth and significance of musical material in The Visions of Captain Quiros

(from here on to be cited simply as Quiros) it is puzzling that the work was subsequently

withdrawn. Possibly, Sculthorpe was influenced by several negative reviews in which

critics derided the length of the work and its apparent lack of virtuosity. One critic called

it “superior music for a very slow-moving film.” Another writes that it “had only

moderate applause, indicating puzzlement” and continues on that “the guitar part is more

an accompaniment to the orchestra than a concertant solo.”142 Similarly, another critic

writes that “the guitar concerto had evocative, atmospheric effects at the beginning but it

all got becalmed and failed to recapture its initial air of inspiration.”143 Overall, these

judgments appear somewhat harsh. It is also difficult to ascertain whether these

criticisms apply more to the performance or the composition. Audiences have certainly

appreciated other works with more exhaustive repetition (such as much American

minimalist music) and slow works of sustained length (such as Bruckner, Mahler,

Wagner), so what went wrong with Quiros? Perhaps it was the unrelenting darkness and

intensity of the work (which is somewhat unusual for Sculthorpe, who now professes to

be an unashamed optimist). However, compared to some of Sculthorpe’s earlier music

like the Sun Music series, Quiros is actually less avant-garde and more melodic.144 Yet it

141 The composer’s note is quoted in full in Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 72. 142 Quoted as appears in Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 214, which is taken from

Laurie Strachan, “Williams, Sculthorpe Provide Puzzling Mix,” The Australian (14 July 1980). 143 Quoted as appears in Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 214, which is taken from

H. R. Forst, “John Strums a Storm,” The Telegraph (14 July 1980). A similar assessment is found in Blanks, “Australia,” Musical Times 121 (Oct 1980): 649.

144 See Margaret Clarke, “Exploring for Music,” in 24 Hours (5 July 1980):2-3 which is annotated

in Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 214.

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is significant that the major distinguishing feature of Nourlangie, the guitar concerto that

is derived from Quiros, is that it shows much greater contrasts between light and dark,

joy and sadness. Perhaps audiences weren’t quite expecting such a dark, brooding work

as Quiros, and undoubtedly they expected more virtuosity in a piece written for a high

profile performer such as John Williams.

Certainly, Nourlangie received more positive reviews. Headlines included

“Rapturous Reception for a Work of Striking Originality,”145 “Pleasures of a Peppery

Baton and an Exquisite Guitar,”146 and “Triumphant Climax to Season.”147 It should be

noted, however, that Sculthorpe took pains to warn audiences and critics in advance that

the guitar is used “as an extra color rather than in a virtuoso concerto role”148 as if to

forestall the kinds of criticism experienced with Quiros that might have stemmed from

unfulfilled expectations of virtuosity.

Alternatively, Hayes simply suggests that Sculthorpe was personally dissatisfied

with the quality of the writing in Quiros.149 The composer presumably planned to revise

the piece but it seems that these revisions then took on a life of their own. However, in

recent phone conversations with the present author, Sculthorpe expressed simply that

Quiros was probably just too long. Either way, material from Quiros was repackaged as

the concerto Nourlangie and the solo work From Kakadu (not to mention the television

145 Denis Butler, The Newcastle Herald (Tuesday 31 Oct. 1989)--listed in Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 250.

146 Roger Covell, The Sydney Morning Herald (1 Nov. 1989)--listed in Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A

Bio-Bibliography, 81. 147 Ken Healey, The Sun-Herald (12 Nov. 1989)--listed in Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-

Bibliography, 81. 148 Quoted in Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 250 and taken from John Noble,

“Concert Shows Musical Agility,” The Courier-Mail (25 Oct. 1989): 34. Hayes also quotes from Butler, “Rapturous Reception for a Work of Striking Originality,” in The Newcastle Herald, who notes that “in part the reception could be attributed to a disarming chat by Sculthorpe before the work was offered.”

149 Hayes, “A Musical Vision of Australia,” Antipodes: A North American Journal of Australian

Literature 12/2 (Dec 1998): 78.

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opera of the same name). The correspondences between these three guitar works are

outlined in Table 3-3 (see page 112), which provides a detailed formal outline of Quiros,

cross-referencing musical material that also appears in Nourlangie and From Kakadu.

Quiros remains, nevertheless, a significant landmark in Sculthorpe’s oeuvre, and is

perhaps his first major essay into octatonicism.

Nourlangie was the result of a commission by the Australian Chamber Orchestra

in 1989 for a new guitar concerto. Although much of the material was previously

written, Sculthorpe provides an unrelated title and a new musical program. There are

several versions of the composer’s preface but the most complete is printed in Hayes

Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography. The composer writes:

Early in 1989, I made my first visit to Kakadu National Park. While there, I spent some time at Nourlangie Rock. A place both powerful and serene, it is clearly a sacred site. Flying over it, I could see across the flood plains to abandoned remains of early white settlement, to the Arafura Sea, to Torres Straits and, in my imagination, to the islands of Indonesia. The musics of these places, and of Kakadu itself, fused in my mind. It was inevitable that I should write a piece about Nourlangie. The work is more concerned with my feelings about the place than with a physical description of it. All the same, I have used many bird sounds in the work; and, while writing it, I often dreamed of a lost guitar in the sea, lying there since the time, in 1606, when a Spanish expedition led by Luis Va[e]z de Torres vainly sailed through waters to the north. In one movement, basically Nourlangie consists of an alternation of two ideas. The first of these, heard at the outset, appears in many different guises. The second almost always take the form of a somewhat ecstatic melody: it stems from my belief that Australia is one of the few places on earth where one can honestly write straightforward, joyful music.150

The composer’s preface underscores the most significant difference between Nourlangie

and its predecessor. In Nourlangie, the material taken from Quiros--which is invariably

dark and ominous in character--is balanced by the addition of the “Torres Strait Dance-

Song,” based on a melody collected by ethnomusicologist Jeremy Beckett in the 1960s.151

150 Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 81. Hayes has obviously folded several

paragraphs into one in order to save space. 151 See Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 81. The source of this melody was

Traditional Music of Torres Strait [sound recording], compiled by Jeremy Beckett; musical analysis and

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This melody is indeed wonderfully “straight-forward” and “joyful”--to Western ears, at

least. In essence, Sculthorpe has given Nourlangie a much more pronounced affective

contrast. It is tempting to compare this to the duality that some writers have seen in

Sculthorpe’s music, but the dichotomy is not quite identical. References to duality in

Sculthorpe’s music in the literature speak in terms of the contrasts between fast, ritualistic

music and slow, expressive music.152 An affective contrast may but need not be involved.

Quiros certainly contains music in both Sculthorpe’s slow and fast styles, but it lacks

marked affective contrasts. Rather, Quiros maintains an almost unceasingly mood of

intensity and unfulfilled longing. In Nourlangie, however, the contrasts between

ominous foreboding and ecstatic joy are pronounced. However, they are not created

through contrasts of tempi but rather through the exploitation of different harmonic

idioms of the two principal thematic groups. A dissonant octatonic language is pitted

against the comparative sweetness of a roughly pentatonic idiom. These two contrasting

tonal languages will provide the focus of the analytical discussion that follows.

Given that the added musical material radically alters the affective balance of the

work, it is perhaps fitting that in Nourlangie Sculthorpe has resituated the recycled

musical material into a different programmatic paradigm. The darker musical themes

that stem from Quiros no longer represent the fantastical visions of an obsessed Spanish

explorer and mystic, but the mysteriousness of the Australian landscape in Kakadu

National Park, and the brooding spiritual aura of Nourlangie rock--which holds deep

significance for the indigenous peoples of the area. Sculthorpe describes the rock as a

place “both powerful and serene” (see above), thus summarizing its dual nature. The transcriptions by Trevor A. Jones (Canberra: Australian Institute of Aboriginal Studies, 1981). This item is seen in the library of the University of Sydney where Sculthorpe taught.

152 Naomi-Helen Cumming, “Encountering Mangrove: An Essay in Signification,” Australasian

Music Research 1 (1996): 201. See also Michael Hannan, Peter Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas (St Lucia, London, New York: University of Queensland Press, 1982), 32ff. Cummings also cites Jana Skarecky, “Duality in the Music of Peter Sculthorpe: String Quartet #10 (M.Mus. thesis, University of Sydney, 1987).

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serene side of the rock is captured in the peaceful simplicity of the “Torres Strait Dance-

Song.” This theme also suggests a love of the landscape, the joy of man in harmony with

nature (perhaps reflecting an idealized view of the relationship of Aboriginal man and the

land).

In this version of the program note, Sculthorpe adds a whimsical reference to Luiz

Vaez de Torres, the chief pilot of Quiros’s expeditions and his second-in command (a

reference conspicuously absent from the composer’s note to the score, as published

earlier by Faber Music Ltd. in 1989). In so doing, Sculthorpe provides a curious link

between the programmatic paradigms of Nourlangie and Quiros. The name of Torres is

actually more widely known, since it is after him that the Torres Strait and the Torres

Strait Islands take their name. Furthermore, after his ship became separated from Quiros,

Torres came close to discovering Australia. In Sculthorpe’s words, “[j]ust as Quiros

mistook a small island for Australia, so Torres mistook Australia for a small island, a

double irony.” The image described in the composer’s note, of Torres and the guitar

lying under the sea, seems entirely unrelated to the programmatic association of

Nourlangie rock. Yet in his autobiography, Sun Music, Sculthorpe strives further to

create a link between these two seemingly unrelated paradigms.

At Nourlangie Rock, or Burrunguy, there’s an Aboriginal rock painting of a fully-rigged sailing ship. There are many such paintings across Arnhem Land Plateau and Cape York Peninsula. Again, I’m being fanciful, but I’d like to believe that, somewhere on that northern coast, there’s an Aboriginal representation of Torres’s ship.153

Why does Sculthorpe go to such lengths to forge these connections, and why does he

abandon the character of Quiros only to take up with his protégé Torres? It would seem

that the guitar still has a Spanish association in the mind of the composer, despite the fact

that the music itself contains no obvious Spanish influence. The unwillingness to

abandon the image of a lonely Spanish explorer must have created something of a

153 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 228.

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quandary for Sculthorpe, who perhaps preferred to bury the memory of his previous

concerto that must have felt like something of a failure. It was previously noted, for

example, how Sculthorpe chose to hide rather than reveal the true lineage of the solo

work From Kakadu, by creating an association with his successful orchestral work,

Kakadu. Furthermore, in the case of Nourlangie, any mention of Quiros would have

been far from prudent, given that the new concerto was written under commission. It

would have only served to draw attention to the fact that much of the work consisted of

previously written material. But in the person of Torres, Sculthorpe found a way to have

his cake and eat it too. The figure of Torres was a happy solution for it provided a way to

avoid mentioning the withdrawn concerto from which much musical material was taken

without abandoning the image of a Spanish explorer.

3-2. Duality, Unity, and Transition in Nourlangie

As may be recalled, the use of pentatonicism entered Sculthorpe’s compositional

vocabulary only in the late 1960s, beginning with Sun Music III. Prior to that, Sculthorpe

had established a preference for melodies that exploit the interval of the semitone and the

minor third. In chapter four, on Tropic, we shall investigate other ways that Sculthorpe

reconciled the anhemitonic nature of pentatonicism with his predilection for the semitone.

In Nourlangie, the problem is not so much an issue since the octatonic and the pentatonic

are kept separate by the alternation of distinct blocks of musical material.

The formal structure of Nourlangie is based on simple repeating patterns, as

illustrated in Table 3-1. The pattern ABCB, repeated twice, (i.e.. ABCBABCB) is

clearly shown. It is tempting to compare this broadly sketched binary structure with a

sonata form, yet although the pattern of themes could be fitted into such a scheme (with

the second B as development and the final B as coda) the pattern of tonal centers suggests

otherwise. The second B section is unlike a development in that it is not tonally

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unstable but is centered on the final (or tonic) pitch-center, C. The return of section C

such that it is tonally centered on G (instead of D) is perhaps the only tonal corollary to

sonata form. There is, in fact, an element of narrative tonality to the work, since it begins

and ends on different tonal centers.

The sequence of tonal centers (G, A, D, (G), C, G, C, G, C) creates pitch patterns

that are important to the music at a more local level as well, thereby creating unity

between the foreground and background of the work. For example, the four principal

tonal centers outline a quartal sonority [0257] that is central to the pentatonic “Torres

Strait Dance-Song” (arguably the works principal theme). Indeed, the cycle of fifths

could be extended further back to E (A-D-G-C becomes E-A-D-G-C) in the light of a

reappraisal of the opening “Misterioso” chords. For the tonal centricity of the opening is

not entirely clear. While G is pivotal to the melodic line, E forms a low bass pedal. An

alternative explanation for this passage is also given in Table 3-1 (and explored in

section 3-6, page 139), which shows a prolongation of the pitch collection E-G-Bb-Db.

However, taking E as tonal center we could see the pattern E-A-D-G-C over the course of

the work, a pattern of tonal centers that spells out the work’s most important pentatonic

collection (that seen in the “Poco estatico,” “Estatico,” and “Movimento per meta”).

The composer’s preface refers to the alternation not of three, but of two basic

ideas. This difference is explained by the fact that section A (which shall henceforth be

referred to as the “Misterioso” chords) is essentially a slow harmonization of the theme of

section C (which shall henceforth be called the “Risoluto” theme) (see Ex.3-1 below).

Both these themes are also united by their dependence on the octatonic scale. Given the

close identity of sections A and C, Sculthorpe can thus refer to the alternation “two” basic

ideas that are sharply delineated--one essentially pentatonic (the “Torres Strait Dance-

Song”, or section B), and the other essentially octatonic (the “Misterioso” chords and the

“Risoluto” theme). This is the basis for the essential affective duality of Nourlangie, as

described previously.

Table 3-1. A Formal Outline of Nourlangie. (“br.” = bridge) Mm Section Label Harmonic content Tonal centricity

(A) Poco Misterioso 1-2 “Parallel M6ths/D7ths” theme x Octatonic (type 1) G-centric 3-11 “Misterioso” chords (strings) A Octatonic (type 3) G centric (or, prolongation E-G-Bb-Db)

(B) Calmo

12-27 “Torres Strait Dance-Song” (1st statement) B A-Pentatonic A-centric 27-29 minor extension/bridge 1 br.1 [01468], (A, B, C#, E, F) -- 30-45 “Torres Strait Dance-Song” (2nd statement, varied) B’ A-Pentatonic A-centric 45-47 minor extension/bridge 1 br.1 [01468], (A, B, C#, E, F) -- 48-51 minor extension/bridge 2 br.2 Composite unclear

(D pentatonic+insen {E, F, A, B, C}?) 52-55 Bridge y [0167] noise (birds!)

(C) Risoluto

56-65 “Risoluto” theme (1st statement) C1 Octatonic (type 2) D-centric 66-77 “Risoluto” theme (2nd statement--modified) C2 Octatonic (type 2 then 3) D-centric then G-centric 78-87 “Risoluto” theme (3rd statement) C1’ Octatonic (type 2) D-centric 88-99 “Risoluto” theme (4th statement--modified) C2’ Octatonic(type 2 then 3) D-centric then G-centric

(B) Poco estatico

100-19 “Torres Strait Dance-Song” (1st statement) B” C-pentatonic C-centric 120-21 minor extension/bridge 3 br.3 [0157], (C, Db, F, G) -- 122-41 “Torres Strait Dance-Song” (2nd statement) B”’ C-pentatonic C-centric 142-43 minor extension/bridge 3 br.3 [0157], (C, Db, F, G) -- 144-63 “Torres Strait Dance-Song” (3rd statement) B”” C-pentatonic C-centric 164-65 minor extension/bridge 3 br.3 [0157], (C, Db, F, G) -- 166-69 Extension/bridge z [016], (G, Ab, D) --

(A) Misterioso

170-75 “Parallel M6ths/D7ths” theme x’ Octatonic (type 1 or 3) G-centric 176-83 “Misterioso” chords (guitar) (1st statement) A’ Octatonic (type 3) G-centric (or prolongation E-G-Bb-Db) 184-91 “Misterioso” chords (guitar) (2nd statement) A” (+w+x) (same) (same) + “Wailing” (w) + “Parallel M6ths/D7ths” (x) 192-99 “Misterioso” chords (strings) A”’ (+w+x) (same) (same) + “Wailing” (w) + “Parallel M6ths/D7ths” (x) 200-- Bridge (unmeasured period of about 60 seconds) y’ clusters +[0167] noise (birds!)

(B) Estatico

201-16 Harmonies to B, senza melody (1st statement) B””’ C-pentatonic C-centric 217-18 Minor extension/bridge 3 br.3 [0157], (C, Db, F, G) -- 219-38 “Torres Strait Dance-Song” (2nd statement) B”’ (same) C-centric --almost identical to mm.122-143 239-40 minor extension/bridge 3 br.3 [0157], (C, Db, F, G) -- 241-60 “Torres Strait Dance-Song”(3rd statement) B”” (same) C-centric --almost identical to mm.144-165 261-62 Minor extension/bridge 3 br.3 [0157], (C, Db, F, G) --) 263-66 Extension/bridge (like mm.165-169)(with [016] subset) z’ [0157], (G, Ab, C, D) --

(C) Più mosso

267-76 “Risoluto” in G, (guitar) (1st statement) C1” Octatonic (type 3) G-centric 277-86 “Risoluto” (guitar) (2nd statement) C1”’ (same) (same) + percussive chords (allusion to Rite of Spring?) 287-88 Bridge z” [0157], (C, Db, F, G) --

(B) Movimento per meta (quasi-coda)

289-308 Harmonies in guitar from B (senza melody) from B Pentatonic/Quartal [0257] C-centric

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Despite these distinct contrasts, Sculthorpe has nevertheless managed to forge

unity by creating a high degree of familial resemblance among all the motives in the

work--a quality that reflects his high level of compositional polish (see Ex.3-1).

Compare, for instance, the “Risoluto” theme (which also appears in rhythmically

augmented form in the “Misterioso” chords) with the “Torres Strait Dance-song” (both

begin with a reciting-tone and contain two complete lower neighbors followed by an

upper neighbor). Some immediate semantic implications are suggested by these

similarities. The contrasting character of these themes arguably represent differing sides

of Nourlangie rock itself--and, by proxy, the landscape of Kakadu at large. As previously

indicated, Sculthorpe hints at the dual nature of Nourlangie, calling it a place “both

powerful and serene.” It is a site of rare and delicate beauty and yet at times is ravaged

by savage natural forces of nature (such as tropical monsoons). Nature seduces us to

intimate devotion and yet commands our fear and respect.

Sculthorpe has remarked on several occasions, that most (if not all) of the themes

of his Kakadu period works show motivic similarities.154 It is not surprising, then, that

the “Risoluto” theme also closely resembles the “Elcho Island Lament”--another theme

closely associated with Kakadu National Park in Sculthorpe’s oeuvre (see Ex.3-1). These

similarities originate in the use of both these themes in Quiros.

Transitions are of particular interest in Nourlangie in that they form the cement

between markedly contrasting musical sections. One could argue that the success of

Nourlangie as a unified composition has much to do with the success of its transitions.

The formal analysis presented in Table 3-1 was deliberately constructed in such a way as

to draw attention to these bridge passages. Typically, Sculthorpe prefers to highlight

structural junctures rather than de-emphasizing them. This is accomplished through

transition passages that are striking, dissonant, or climactic in nature, and through the

154 For instance, see Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 256. See also the composer’s note to Dream Tracks (London: Faber Music Ltd., 1992), shown on page 59ff of this text.

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reuse of the same transition music such that it achieves motivic/thematic significance.

This is reminiscent of the use of percussion for structural punctuation observed by

Michael Hannan in Sculthorpe’s music--which he [Hannan] relates to the colotomic

structure of Balinese gamelan gong.155

For instance, at mm.52-53 (Ex.3-2), the transition passage is characterized by

striking dissonance,156 using the set-class [0167]. This set-class contains two lots of

interval-class one and two lots of interval-class six, dissonances which can form intervals

of the minor second, major seventh, and tritone. But the dissonant quality is further

enhanced by the fact that interval-classes one and six do not belong to the pentatonic

collection that dominates this passage. The sudden dissonance is jarring, although it is

foreshadowed in mm.48-51 where Sculthorpe undermines the hegemony of the A-centric

pentatonicism {A, B, C#, E, F#} with the superimposition of the pentatonic collection

{D, E, F#, A, B} and the set-class [0156] {C, B, E, F}--thereby introducing interval-

classes one and six. Furthermore, the transition passage is marked by a forte-piano

accent, by loud guitar rasguedo, a tam-tam roll, and a cacophony of avant-garde string

sounds in imitation of screeching flights of birds. The effect of the cacophony of bird-

sounds is sheer noise, a noise that has the psychological effect of clearing the air, setting

up an expectation in the listener that the music to follow will be in a harsher idiom. It

also allows Sculthorpe to jump to a new tonal center at m.56 (the “Risoluto”) with no

preparation or modulatory passage whatsoever.

To Sculthorpe, a composer for whom the creation of symmetry is second nature, a

passage of such striking character as this (mm.52-55) demands recurrence in order to

155 Michael Hannan, Peter Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas, 1929-1979 (St Lucia, London, New

York: University of Queensland Press, 1982), 68. 156 Having the interval class vector <200022>, this set-class contains two lots of interval-class one

and two lots of interval-class six--definitely conventional dissonances (forming intervals of the minor second, major seventh, and tritone). However, their dissonant quality is further enhanced by the fact that the interval-classes one and six do not belong to the pentatonic collection that dominates this passage.

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create compositional balance. This is realized at m.200 where the transition (which I

label “y”) returns at what is arguably the climax to the entire concerto (see Ex.3-3). The

dissonant set-class [016] in the guitar is joined by clusters in the strings and followed by a

myriad of diverse indeterminate and microtonal noises in the strings. This occurs in an

unmeasured passage of some 68 seconds (according to time indications on the score),

creating a frighteningly realistic imitation of the massed flights of birds that frequent the

extensive tropical wetlands of Kakadu National Park.157

This lengthy episode of sheer noise sets the stage for one of the concerto’s most

poignant moments--the emergence of the solo guitar at m.201 with harmonies from the

“Torres Strait Dance-Song.” The noise of the thundering tam-tam tremolo (which, when

it ceases, is let ring) is overwhelming, such that the entrance of the guitar is effectively

inaudible. As the tam-tam subsides, the sound of the guitar gradually emerges as if from

a great distance. This has the curious psychological effect of establishing the “rightness”

of the new tonal center and the pentatonic sound-world created. It is as if our ears

become accustomed to the new tonality before we are consciously aware that the guitar is

even playing.

Transitions like these demonstrate Sculthorpe’s subtle mastery of manipulating

expectation and fulfillment. A composer at the height of his powers, Sculthorpe

smoothes over potentially awkward moments with consummate ease. For example, the

shift from the “Misterioso” chords in mm.1-11 to the “Torres Strait Dance-Song” at m.12

causes a sudden change in the prevailing harmony and tonality. As seen in Ex.3-4, the

more acrid dissonance of set-class [0145] in m.11 (Sculthorpe’s “Woolharra” chord158 on

the pitches Db, F, C and E) changes suddenly to the sweeter sound of [0257],

157 In 1993, I had the privilege to attend a performance of Nourlangie (by John Williams and the Darwin Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Martin Jarvis) held on-site at Nourlangie Rock (in the parking lot) and noted that these simulated sounds were so realistic that, curiously enough, flights of real birds responded in kind.

158 Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 15.

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accompanied by a melody formed from the pentatonic collection {A, B, C#, E, F#}.

[0145] and [0257] have very different sounds due to their differing interval class content.

The pentatonic collection (ICV=<032140>)159 is dominated by interval classes two and

five, contains no interval class one, and only one interval class four. Similarly, the set-

class [0257] (ICV=<021030>)--which dominates the harmonies of the pentatonic section

(starting at m.12)--contains no interval class one or four. On the other hand, the set-class

[0145] (ICV=<201210>), has two each of interval-classes one and four.

So how does the pentatonic melody emerge with a sense of “rightness”, not to

mention the sudden shift to the new tonal center of A? This transition is accomplished

through a device so simple as to appear almost inconsequential: namely, the introduction

of an upper pedal on the dyad A-E, functioning as an anticipation. This pedal--seen in

the violins in the last half of m.11--enters as a dissonance, but becomes consonant in the

succeeding measure. The arrival of the new tonality of the “Torres Strait Dance-Song”

becomes the achievement of consonance, a fulfillment of the expectation set up in the

preceding measure by the entry of a dissonant pedal. This simple device radically alters

our perception of m.12. No longer a jarring shift, this arrival point achieves,

psychologically, a sense of “rightness.”

There are several other transition passages in Nourlangie that are reused to the

point that they almost achieve a motivic or thematic status. This relates, as previously

stated, to the idea of structural punctuation in musical form. Of particular note are the

large number of bridge passages based on the set-class [0157], which is a subset of the

Japanese in-scale. These include mm.120-21, 142-43, 164-65, 217-18, 239-40, 261-62,

263-66, and 287-88. Mm.166-69 are closely related and would form the set-class [0157]

if a more prominent C were added. Mm.27-29 and 45-47 are also similar in containing

the set-class [01468], which contains a [0157] subset, and is one note different from a full

in collection, set-class [01568].

159 The abbreviation ICV stands for “interval-class vector,” (a count of the number of occurrences of each interval-class formed between unique pairs of pitches in a set-class).

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The use of the set-class [0157] in Nourlangie is so consistent as to approach the

level of structural syntax. It could be said to usurp the function of the dominant in

functional tonality, constituting the perennial “away” chord of choice in this work. As

stated in chapter one, if any chord deserves to be named as the “Sculthorpe” chord in the

composer’s mature works, this is it. We shall also note its prominent use in Tropic, From

Kakadu, and Into the Dreaming in subsequent chapters. Characteristically, Sculthorpe’s

use of [0157] creates tonal focus on the pitch that is “0” in calculating the set-class. This

pitch is at the point of symmetry between two perfect fifths, and is ornamented by an

upper neighbor that becomes a chord-tone. For example, the pitch-set {C, Db, F, G}

would create the tonal centricity of C.

This functional interpretation is reinforced by the way that Sculthorpe actually

employs this chord as a tool for modulation. For example, Ex.3-5 shows that to

accomplish the change from C-centricity to G centricity at m.267, Sculthorpe switches

from the [0157] “away” chord of C to the [0157] “away” chord of G. Mm.166-69 show

an identical scenario, while mm.287-88 shows the situation in reverse, in a “modulation”

from G-centricity to C-centricity.

3-3. Towards a Syntax for Pentatonicism

Sculthorpe’s pentatonicism is the perfect example of how his music is “aesthetically

naïve, but not technically naïve.”160 Typically, the melody is restricted to a pentatonic

collection, but the accompanying harmonies--while still overwhelmingly consonant--are

more sophisticated. Similarly, although the music shows clear and simple repetitions and

160 Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 251. Hayes’s wording is an annotation

paraphrasing the thoughts of Andrew Ford in “Peter Sculthorpe At Sixty,” in Speaking of Music: A Selection of Talks from ABC Radio by Eminent Musicians, Composer and Conductors ed. Jan Balodis and Tony Cane (Sydney: ABC Enterprises, 1990), 186-209.

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a slow harmonic rhythm with clear blocks of harmonic material, the precise functions of

these harmonies are difficult to determine.

The first appearance of the “Torres Strait Dance-Song” occurs at mm.12-29 (see

Ex.3-6), which repeats with slight elaboration at mm.30-47. The melody neatly conforms

to the pentatonic collection {A, B, C#, E, F#}, with the exception of two appearances of

D. It consists of eighteen bars made up of six three-bar phrases. Furthermore, a simple

pattern of repetition is seen in the sequence of phrases: a, a’, b, a”, c, (followed by a tail).

Phrase a thus occurs three times, while phrases b and c--although creating contrast--are

still modeled very closely on phrase a. Every phrase contains a reciting tone, and sports

characteristic melodic figurations, such as the lower neighbor motion that occurs at the

beginning of every phrase. Ex.3-7 shows a reduction of the melody in graphic notation

that clearly illustrates these properties. The tonal centricity of this version of the melody

is clearly A, the tone with which the melody ends, and which is the lowest pitch in the

accompanying bass line (m.12). However, as we shall see, the functions of the

accompanying harmonies are not quite as clear as the simple melodic line.

There are two principal manifestations of the “Torres Strait Dance-Song;” the

“Calmo” (mm.12-47), and the “Poco estatico” (mm.100-65). The music of the “Estatico”

(mm.201-62) is practically identical with that of the “Poco estatico.” Having shown the

first manifestation of the melody, as it appears in the “Calmo,” let us now proceed to the

“Poco estatico,” examining both the melody and harmony. Subsequently, we shall return

to the “Calmo” for a closer look at the accompanying harmonies.

The melodic line of the “Poco estatico” (given in Ex.3-8) has been rhythmically

altered in subtle and compelling ways (compared to the initial version seen in the

“Calmo”). What was originally a melody comprised of simple eighth notes becomes a

melody with whimsical and intricate syncopations, bestowed with an air of spontaneity as

if improvised. While the initial setting consisted of three-bar phrases in common time,

the later setting involves four-bar phrases in three-four meter. These alterations bestow

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renewed rhythmic energy on the melody, avoiding the potential pitfall of mundane

repetition. Combined with the repeating ostinato in the accompaniment, these alterations

contribute to the trance-like effect and the quality of “estatico.”

The harmonies of the “Poco estatico” are deceptively simple (Ex.3-8). For

instance, at mm.100-21, the musical texture is transparent, consisting of clear layers. The

melody appears in violin 1, an accompaniment ostinato in violin 2, and accompaniment

figures in the guitar. The ostinato in violin 2 is particularly significant in that it exhibits

the use of phasing technique, a rhythmic device taken from Indonesian music in which

repeating figures come in and out of phase with the underlying meter (see chapter four,

page 171, for a more complete explanation of this technique in the context of Tropic). In

this instance, the three-note group returns to phase at the beginning of every measure.

The simple textures outlined create a slow harmonic rhythm where changes of chord

occur only at the change of phrase. In essence, a different harmony is associated with

each different melodic phrase, a, b, and c. Recurrences of phrase a are set similarly but

with minute differences. This is shown in the analytical overlay in Ex.3-8 and the

reduction in Ex.3-9. Despite their apparent simplicity, these harmonies defy labeling

according to conventional functional tonality.

Essentially, Sculthorpe has created an idiosyncratic harmonic syntax that differs

fundamentally from conventional tonality (see Ex.3-9). If the sonorities used possess

qualities of triadic harmonies, it is only by implication. They are like hybrids, exhibiting

the properties of more than one triad. For example, the [0257] has properties of the tonic,

supertonic, and dominant--and these are enhanced by the changing bass line. Similarly,

[0156] has properties of tonic and sub-dominant, [01368] has properties of subdominant

and dominant, and [0157] has properties of the Neapolitan or dominant. Clearly, these

chord labels are of limited use. At the heart of the problem is the fact that these chords

are not really tertian but quartal/quintal. Traditionally chord labels are therefore

necessarily ambiguous. While only [0257] is of the more strictly quartal/quintal variety

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that admits exclusively perfect fourths or fifths (and the only one of these sonorities to be

a subset of the pentatonic collection), if the occasional tritone is admitted then all these

sonorities can be quartally derived.161 Quartal harmonies (of the more strict type, at

least), by their very nature, are tonally flexible and ambiguous. For instance, the bass

note of a chord can be switched around without dramatically altering its function.

If we accept that these sonorities are predominantly quartal in derivation, lacking

the clear tonal functions of common-practice tonality, then how is tonal centricity

established in this music? And more importantly, does an alternate system of tonal

functions emerge? Tonal centricity is necessarily established through subtle means such

as repetition, pedal point, and a structurally embedded sense of departure and return.

That is, the structural placement of each sonority mirrors the sense of departure and

return implicit within the melody--which exhibited the form aa’ba”cd. The pattern of

sonorities serves to strengthen the sense of departure and return built into the melodic

structure. We can therefore associate our list of sonorities with functions analogous to

those of tonal harmony. The [0257] sonority is the “home” sonority, and the others--

[0156], [01368], and [0157] are the “away” sonorities. On the next statement of the

“Torres Strait Dance-Song” at mm.122-43 (shown in the second page of Ex.3-9), these

sonorities are expanded by the addition of extra pitches, just as the texture also thickens

by the addition of other instruments. The “home” chord becomes [02479] (the F

pentatonic collection), while the second “away” chord becomes the entire diatonic

collection.

A comparison of these passages with pentatonic sections in Tropic reveals several

similarities that point towards the gradual development of a harmonic syntax in

161 The possibility that quartal/quintal chords can contain the occasional tritone is outlined in

Bruce Benward and Gary White, Music in Theory and Practice, 4th ed. Vol.2 (Dubuque, IA: Wim. C. Brown Publishers, 1990), 239. They distinguish between “consonant” and “dissonant” quartal/quintal chords, the latter type being those that “contain one or more A4ths (or d5ths).” While this interpretation is not widely followed, it makes a lot of sense.

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Sculthorpe’s use of pentatonic melodies. The question as to whether these methods are

of the composer’s own invention, or also derived from the musical practices of South-

East Asia, is another topic of inquiry in itself. My purpose here is simply to illustrate

what exists in the score.

This point of similarity between Tropic and Nourlangie is seen in an inspection of

the similar ostinati passages exhibiting phase techniques, which consist of successive

three-note figures in repeating sixteenth notes. In particular, it is seen in Nourlangie,

mm.100-65, 201-62 (second violin), and in Tropic, mm.115-66, 199-225 (first guitar).

An abstract reduction of these passages is shown in Ex.3-10. Other works employing the

“Torres Strait-Dance-song,” or the “Estatico” of Tropic, also contain these techniques

(see chapter one, page 40ff). As seen in Ex.3-10, the first two trichords are identical with

respect to the pentatonic collection of the melody they harmonize (the question of tonal

centricity is sometimes ambiguous). Tropic shows cycles of three different trichords in

the pattern A, B, C, where A is a member of set-class [025], B is a member of set-class

[015] and C is a different member of set-class [025]. Since the melody is based on the

pentatonic collection {D, E, F#, A, B}, which our Western ears are predisposed to hear as

being D-centric, let us use a D major scale as a reference point. The three trichords

would then be formed from the scale degrees (2, 4, 5), (7, 1, 3) and (6, 1, 2). Similarly,

Nourlangie shows the more intricate repetition pattern: A, A, B, A, C, D, where A is a

member of set-class [025], B of set-class [015], C of set-class [016], and D of set-class

[07]. Using the C major scale as a reference, these sonorities are formed from scale

degrees (2, 4, 5), (7, 3, 1), (7, 5, 4), and (5, 1). Sonorities A and B can be seen to be

identical in both pieces. In the syntax developed, sonority A represents the principle

“home” sonority, and B the first “away” sonority.

Now let us return to the initial statement of the “Torres Strait Dance-Song” in the

“Calmo” section, where the harmonies function in subtly different ways. As shown in

Ex.3-6, on the surface, the harmonies of the “Calmo” appear to be much simpler. One

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cannot see quite the same pattern of “home” and “away” sonorities as in the later

statements. Rather, the accompaniment conforms overwhelmingly to the pitch content of

the set {A, B, D, E}, forming set-class [0257]--at least superficially. Several of the

phrases add an extra pitch to this underlying four-note backbone. The second and fourth

phrases (a’ and a” in Ex.3-6) add F# to create the pentatonic collection {D, E, F#, A, B}.

Phrase three (b) adds the pitch G#, and phrase five (c) adds the pitches C# (strongly), as

well as F# and G# (weakly), to become the total diatonic. Phrase six (d) is somewhat

different, displaying the pitch collection {E, F natural, A, B, C#}, causing it to sound

more like a transition.

The two appearances in the accompanying harmonies of the pentatonic collection

{D, E, F#, A, B} are particularly interesting in that this is a different pentatonic collection

to that of the melody, which employs the collection {A, B, C#, E, F#}. The idea of using

intersecting pentatonic collections, with the melody in one pentatonic collection and the

harmonies in another, is an idea that is also seen in Quiros in “Part III: The Pacific”,

mm.227-42 (see Ex.3-11). In each instance, the two intersecting collections share four

common tones forming the set-class [0257]. An interesting point for further discussion

would be to investigate the origin of this technique. Does it derive from the practices of

indigenous Southeast Asian music, is it a device of Sculthorpe’s own invention, or does it

take influence from the use of intersecting collections in works by earlier twentieth-

century Western composers?

A closer inspection of the harmonies reveals some seemingly insignificant details

of voice-leading that play a greater role than might at first seem apparent, creating the

impression of miniature progressions within the microcosm of each phrase (refer to Ex.3-

7). For instance, when the melody plays the note C# (three times in phrases one, two,

and four--or mm.13, 16, and 22) the harmonies respond by omitting the note D.

Arguably, in each instance Sculthorpe is going out of his away to avoid the interval-class

one, which does not belong to a pentatonic sound-world and creates a noticeable

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dissonance. For instance, in mm.12-14, the set {A, B, D, E} in the accompaniment (a

member of set-class [0257]) changes to the set {A, B, E} (a member of set-class [027])--

all to avoid the clash of D with the C# in the melody. Indeed, when the C# is played, it

arguably creates the impression of a more tertian than quartal sonority (the set {A,C#, E}

with B as an anomaly or added ninth). Alternatively, these passages could be construed

as switching back and forth between the A pentatonic collection {A, B, C#, E, F#} and

the D pentatonic collection {D, E, F#, A, B}. When the C# plays in the melody, the

accompaniment must drop all notes of the D pentatonic collection that don’t belong to the

A pentatonic collection, in order to avoid creating an interval class one. Either way, it is

clear that the harmonies are interacting with the melody in a dynamic way that differs

from other statements of the “Torres Strait Dance-Song.”

Other details of voice-leading occur within phrases three and five, but these

arguably have less harmonic significance other than to keep up the illusion of micro-

progression. For instance, in phrase five, the first violin oscillates between B and C#

while the viola oscillates between A and B, but at all times all three different pitches (A,

B, and C#) are sounding. Similarly, in phrase three, G# drops out when the melody plays

F# but this G# is such a strong note that that its influence is still felt. The impact of G# is

primarily in that it does create interval class one with the bass note A, and is thus an

anomaly in the prevailing pentatonic-derived sound-world. The striking character of this

note arguably has phantom tertian implications, strongly suggesting a dominant seventh

function (with the pitches E, G#, B and D) over a tonic pedal.

Generally speaking, in the “Calmo,” Sculthorpe succeeds in maintaining a certain

harmonic ambiguity that could be construed as either the tension between the two

principal pentatonic collections, or perhaps a tension between the quartal and tertian

sonic environments. The tonal syntax differs from other manifestations of the “Torres

Strait Dance-Song” but it is, again, one that functions analogously yet differently from

conventional functional tonal progressions.

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3-4. The Hidden Octatonic History of Nourlangie in The Visions of Captain Quiros--an Octatonic Tour-de-force

The opening chords of Nourlangie display a markedly dissonant harmonic idiom whose

derivation is difficult to ascertain at first glance. I will demonstrate that the key to their

genesis lies in the earlier concerto, The Visions of Captain Quiros (1980). Much of

Quiros is based on the octatonic collection, and many of these parts are reworked into

Nourlangie. Quiros may actually be the first substantial use of the octatonic collection in

Sculthorpe’s music.

Hannan makes a claim for octatonicism in the orchestral piece Mangrove (1979),

perhaps Sculthorpe’s most widely recognized masterwork.162 He argues that the chords in

the strings at figure 4, marked “Con tenerezza” (see Ex.3-12), show the influence of

Messiaen “in sound and function” suggesting that these chords are loosely based on

Messiaen’s second mode of limited transposition (an octatonic scale--D, E, F, G, G#, A#,

B, C#). Closer inspection reveals just how “loose” this octatonicism really is. Eb, Gb,

and A, do not belong to this octatonic scale, and of the five different sonorities in the

passage--labeled A, B, B’, C, D--only C strictly belongs to the named octatonic

collection.

Clearly, this passage in Mangrove cannot be explained neatly by an overriding

octatonicism. In fact, many of the sonorities could equally well be related to the in-scale,

which is has particular significance to Mangrove because it quotes the Japanese saibara

melody Isé-no-Umi (see Table 3-2). I would argue that set theory has greater

explanatory power here than a purely scalar interpretation. It is better to say simply that

certain sonorities are subsets of the set-class [0134679t] that forms an octatonic

collection, and others are subsets of the set-class [01568] that forms an in-scale.

162 Hannan, Peter Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas, 197.

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Table 3-2. Sonorities in Mangrove, “Con Tenerrezza”

(SC = set-class, ICV = interval-class-vector) Sonority Members SC ICV Subset of which SC? A D, Eb, G, Ab [0156] <200121> [0134679t], [01568] B Ab, Db, D [016] <100011> [0134679t], [01568] B’ G, Ab, Db, D [0157] <110121> [01568] C G, Ab, Bb, B, D [01347] <213211> [0134679t] D A, Bb, B, D, Eb [01256] <311221>

A similar set-class analysis of this passage is given by Naomi Cumming, who

argues that Sculthorpe’s “Woolharra” chord manifests itself in this passage through the

frequency of the semitone and minor third (or interval-classes one and three).163

Cumming is certainly on the right track in avoiding an overly simplistic scalar

explanation, but her interval discussion is flawed by its reliance on interval segment as a

descriptor of interval-class content. Her argument concerning the “Woolharra” chord and

interval-classes one and three is based on an overly simplistic account of the chord’s

interval-class content, described by the interval segment 1-3-1. Interval segment fails to

account for the total interval-class content of a sonority as it only describes intervals

between successive pitches in close form.164 Interval-class vector (ICV) is the only way

to fully account for the interval content of a sonority, being the summation of the

frequency

163 Cumming, “Encountering Mangrove: An Essay in Signification,” 209. Following the lead of

Jana Skarecky, “Duality in the Music of Peter Sculthorpe: String Quarter No.10 (M.Mus. [Composition] thesis: The University of Sydney, 1987), Cumming employs an unusual Czechoslovakian method developed by Karel Janecek in his Základy Moderní Harmonie [The Foundations of Modern Harmony](Prague: CSAV Press, 1965) that, unlike the standard American system developed by Allen Forte, does not invoke inversional equivalence in naming set-classes. Like Forte’s normal form, “close form” represents the closest stacking of pitches withan an octave, ordered in the rotation with the closest possible position (but without allowing inversion to achieve a closer stacking). Consequently, the pitch set {Ab, Db, D} is labeled as the set-class [017] (which doesn’t exist in Forte) and <1, 6> (interval segment--being the sequentially ordered set of unordered pitch-class intervals between consecutive pitches in the close form of the set). In contrast, I label it as [016] and describe its interval content using the ICV <100011> (where ICV = interval-class vector, a summation of the frequency of each interval-class in a sonority, covering all possible pairs).

164 See the immediately preceding footnote.

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of each interval-class, covering all possible pairs of pitch-classes. The ICV of the

“Woolharra” chord, <201210> (for instance), reveals the spuriousness of Cumming’s

claims--showing, among other things, that it has more of interval-class four than interval-

class three. The “numbers” in Cumming’s analysis, therefore, lack the explanatory

power she apparently assumes they have.

If the case for octatonicism in Mangrove is somewhat tenuous (and Cumming’s

explanations likewise), the case for octatonicism in Nourlangie might at first glance

appear to be equally fragile. However, the case for octatonicism in Quiros is actually

overwhelming--as I shall demonstrate. The octatonic nature of segments of Nourlangie

then becomes abundantly clear due to their origin in Quiros. In this section, I will

overview the principal octatonic music of Quiros, with extensive use of musical

examples (partly because Quiros has now been withdrawn and is thus not easily

available) in order to clearly establish the legitimacy of this interpretation.

A formal outline of Quiros is given below in Table 3-3. It illustrates the

following aspects of the work: (1) the correspondences between Quiros and its two

derivatives, From Kakadu and Nourlangie, (2) the repetition of themes and motives, and

(3) the harmonic content of each theme, be it octatonic or otherwise.

The table clearly demonstrates how sections of Quiros were recycled in later

guitar works. In particular, “Part I: First Vision” became the first movement of From

Kakadu (where the guitar part is virtually unchanged). The “Elcho Island Lament”

(which forms the basis of “Part I: First Vision”) is used extensively throughout Quiros;

namely in “Part IV: Second Vision” and “Part VII: Last Vision”. Similarly, “Part II:

Preparation” becomes the “Risoluto” in Nourlangie, and “Part V: The South Land of the

Holy Spirit” becomes the “Misterioso” in Nourlangie. There still remain many sections

unique to Quiros, and we shall see that a large number of these are octatonic in nature.

Table 3-3. Formal Outline of The Visions of Captain Quiros (With Cross-References to Nourlangie and From Kakadu) (SC = set-class, N = Nourlangie, FK = From Kakadu, trans. = transition, dev. = development,

gtr=guitar) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Mm Description Cross-References Theme Harmonic Content ===========Part I: First Vision===================================================================================================== 1-2 “6ths” motive x1 Octatonic (type 2) 3-14 “Lament” (“Elcho Island Lament”) [FK, mm.1-12] A Sets from in-scale 15-20 Trans. [similar to FK, mm.13-14] Sets from in-scale 21-22 “6ths” motive [FK, mm.15-16] x2 Hexatonic over pedal-point 23-34 “Lament” [FK, mm.17-28] A Sets from in-scale 35-40 “6ths” motive (like mm.1-2, min 3rd up, & embellished) x1’ Octatonic (type 2) 41-42 “6ths” motive [FK, mm.31-32] x2 Hexatonic 43-44 Trans. -- [gtr. part similar to FK, m.33] Clusters + “Woolharra” chord 45-46 Trans. -- -- -- 47-56 “6ths” motive + “Lament” in flute [gtr. harmonies as in FK, mm.37-44] x3+A Embellished hexatonic 57-58 Closing chord ============Part II: Preparation=================================================================================================== 59-66 Intro. Intro. Octatonic (type 2) 67-76 “Risoluto” theme [same as N, mm.56-65] B Octatonic (type 2), D-centric 77-80 Partial repeat of “Risoluto” theme [same as N, mm.66-69, basis for 70-71] from B Octatonic (type 2) 81-82 Trans. “y” [prototype for N, mm.70-77, (gtr.)] y Loosely octatonic (type 3) 83-92 “Risoluto” theme elaborated [same as N, mm.78-87] B’ Octatonic (type 2) 93-96 Partial repeat, with further elaboration [same as N, 88-91, basis for 92-93] B” Octatonic (type 2) 97-98 Trans. “y” [prototype for N, mm.94-99, (gtr.)] y Loosely octatonic (type 3) 99-102 Dev. of Intro. from Intro. Octatonic (type 2) 103-14 Trans. “z” [has germinal idea for N opening chords] z Octatonic (type 3) 115-30 Dev. of “Risoluto” (rhythm augmented, transposed up 4th) [similar to N, mm.267-74] B”’ Octatonic (type 3), G-centric 131-37 “Yearning” theme C Octatonic (type 3) 137-46 “Risoluto” theme (strings) at original pitch-level B”” Octatonic (type 2), D-centric 147-50 Excerpt from “Risoluto” theme in gtr. [similar to N, mm.267-74] from B Octatonic (type 2) 151-52 Trans. “y” y Loosely octatonic (type 3) 153-58 “Yearning” theme C’ Octatonic (type 3) 159-68 Codetta (rhythm from B) ============Part III: The Pacific=================================================================================================== 169-84 Dev. of “6ths” motive into a theme x4 Unclear 185-89 “Unrest theme” (rhythmically related to “Lament”) D Unclear 190-208 “6ths” theme x4 Unclear 209-14 “Unrest” theme D Unclear 215-26 Trans. (from x4 (winds mm.169-184) [germinal idea for some of N, opening chords] Some octatonic 227-42 “Pacific” theme (melody: C-D-E-G-A)(harmony: F-G-A-C-D) E Intersecting pentatonic collections 243-47 “Unrest” theme D Unclear 247-62 “6ths” theme x4 Unclear

263-70 “Unrest” theme combined with elements frin x4 and E D+ (some x4, E) Unclear ============Part IV: Second Vision================================================================================================= 271-74 Fragment from “Yearning” theme C Octatonic (type 3) 275-86 “Lament” A Sets from in-scale 287-88 “6ths” motive x1’ Octatonic (type 2) 289-90 “6ths” motive x2 Hexatonic 291-306 “Lament,” Var.1 (with bird sounds) A Sets from in-scale 307-22 “Lament,” Var.2 (with bird sounds) A Sets from in-scale 323-38 “Lament,” Var.3 (with more bird sounds) A Sets from in-scale 339-54 “Lament,” Var.4 (with extension) A 355-64 Trans. [gradually becoming “Misterioso” chords] -- -- 365-78 Arpeggio dev. of “6ths” motive at mm.365-68, [same as FK, mm.37-44] x3+C Embellished hexatonic,

“Yearning” melody emerges, mm.366-78 Octatonic emerges ============Part V: The South Land of the Holy Spirit================================================================================== 379-85 “Holy Spirit” melody (gtr.) F Loosely octatonic (type 3) + pentatonic in winds [rhythms similar to mm.223-26] (some pentatonic harmonies) 386-96 “Holy Spirit” melody repeated, developed F’ Loosely octatonic (type 3) 397-98 Trans. - -- Octatonic (type 3) 399-406 1st statement of “Misterioso” chords [N, mm.4-11 (strings), mm.176-83 (gtr.)] G=(z+B) Mixed/loosely octatonic (type 3) 407-14 2nd statement of “Misterioso” chords [prototype for N, mm.184-91] G’+w Mixed/loosely octatonic + gtr. doubled in upper winds, + “Wailing” (w) (type 3)(w=type 1) 415-22 3rd statement of “Misterioso” chords, [like N, mm.184-91] G”+w+H Mixed/loosely octatonic + “Wailing” + “Parallel Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” (H) (type 3)(w=type 1) 423-24 Trans.: climax -- Clusters 425-26 Trans. -- SC [0157], subset of in-scale 427-40 Dev. of “Holy Spirit” melody F” Loosely octatonic (type 3) ============Part VI: Disillusionment=============================================================================================== 441-45 “6ths” motive x1 at original pitch level [Nocturne, now withdrawn] x1’ Octatonic (type 2) 445-48 Extension of “6ths” motive [as above] Whole-tone (except G#-E,) 449-62 Dev. of “Yearning” theme [as above] C” Octatonic (type 3) 463-66 Trans. -- [as above] Unclear 467-72 Further dev. of “Yearning” theme [as above] from C” Octatonic (type 3) 473-74 Similar to z, or a fragment of “Misterioso” chords [as above] z’ or 1/G’ Unclear 475-76 Fragment of “Yearning” theme [as above] from C” Unclear 477-90 “Risoluto” theme in gtr. B””’ Octatonic (type 3), G-centric 491-96 Trans. “y” [prototype for N, mm. 70-77 (gtr.)] y Loosely octatonic ============Part VII: Last Vision================================================================================================== 497-508 “Lament” in winds A Sets based on in-scale 509-10 Trans. - -- SC [0156], subset of in-scale 511-16 Dev. of “6ths” motive x1” No longer clearly octatonic 517-29 “Lament,” plus motives from “Yearning” theme A+1/C Sets based on in-scale 531-34 Codetta, motives from “Yearning” theme from C SC [0157] 535-36 Final chord -- [027], pentatonic-------------------------

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The principal octatonic themes of Quiros are listed below in Table 3-4. Most of

these recur repeatedly over the course of the work (which is intended to be one long

continuous movement divided into seven sections). They are listed in the order of their

first appearance. The denotative labels applied here are my own, coined for convenient

reference. Of this list, the following two sets of themes also appear in Nourlangie:

“Risoluto” with its attendant motive “y,” and “Misterioso” with both the “Parallel Maj.

6ths/Dim. 7ths” theme and the “Wailing” motive. On the other hand, the “6ths” motive,

the “Yearning” theme, and the “Holy Spirit” theme, occur in Quiros but not in

Nourlangie.

Table 3-4. Octatonic Themes in The Visions of Captain Quiros

Theme Octatonic type Example No. (1) the “6ths” motive x

1 (Parts I and VI) type 2 Exx.3-13a, 3-13b, 3-13c

(2) The “Risoluto” theme type 2 (some type 3) Exx.3-14, 3-15, 3-16 (3) the transition motive “y” type 3 Exx.3-17a, 3-17b (4) the “Yearning” theme type 3 Exx.3-18, 3-19 (5) the “Holy Spirit” theme type 3 (loosely) Exx.3-20, 3-21 (6) the “Misterioso” chords type 3 (loosely) Ex.3-24 (7) the “Parallel Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” theme type 1 (superficially) Exx.3-22a, 3-22b (8) the “Wailing” motive type 1 (superficially) Ex.3-23

I have also categorized each theme according to which octatonic collection is the

source of their pitch-class content. There are three different octatonic collections with

distinct pitch-class content.165 These are named variously in the literature, but for the

sake of simplicity and convenient reference (and to avoid clumsy names such as the C/C#

octatonic, the C/D octatonic and the C#/D octatonic, for instance) I invent my own

165 The word “scale” is avoided here because it normally implies that one pitch is tonic. The word

“collection” is preferable because it simply implies a specific pitch-class content. I am less concerned with categorizing species of the octatonic scale according to whether they begin on a whole step or half step since my categories concern “collections” (not “scales”). Also note that since no pitch-class is tonic, beginning each list on C or C# was a purely arbitrary choice.

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terminology here. The three octatonic source collections are named types 1, 2, and 3, as

seen in Table 3-5 below.

Table 3-5. The Three Octatonic “Types”

Octatonic Collection Members Type 1 C, Db, Eb, E, F#, G, A, Bb (or enharmonic equivalents) Type 2 C, D, Eb, F, Gb, Ab, A, B (or enharmonic equivalents) Type 3 C#, D, E, F, G, Ab, Bb, B (or enharmonic equivalents)

Almost all of the themes in Quiros are based on types 2 and 3. In navigating between

these two collections (a modulation between types), Sculthorpe will often exploit

common tones.

Let us now examine briefly each octatonic theme from Quiros in turn. Where a

theme occurs also in Nourlangie, musical examples from that work are used instead.

Following an explication of octatonicism in Quiros, the use of octatonicism in

Nourlangie will be investigated more closely.

In most of Exx.3-13 to 3-23 (where appropriate) I have circled notes that do not

belong to the octatonic collection cited. For the most part, these aberrant notes can be

rationalized as having an ornamental function, either as neighbors or passing notes. In

other instances, aberrant pitches can be rationalized as concessions to the open strings of

the guitar. The validity of the latter explanation could be demonstrated by numerous

examples showing Sculthorpe’s predilection for utilizing the open strings of the guitar

irregardless of the precise pitch. For instance, in sections VI and VII of Quiros, the sixth

string of the guitar is tuned down to Db. In these sections there are several references to

earlier themes that had exploited open strings, such as the “Misterioso” chords in

mm.473-74, the “Risoluto” theme in mm.477-91, and the “6ths” motive, mm.511-16,

where Sculthorpe continues to use the open sixth string (now Db not E) even though

playing an E would still be possible.

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The “6ths” Motive (1)

Mm.1-2 (Ex.3-13a, see page 106) of Quiros are a perfect example of a pure octatonic

theme (type 2) with no aberrant pitches. This opening figure of the piece sets the tone for

the extensive octatonicism of the work. Incidentally, this also an outstanding example of

Sculthorpe’s love of symmetrical pitch formations, for the dyads C-Ab, F#-D, and A-F

could be considered symmetrical about the final dyad A-F.

In mm.35-40 (Ex.3-13b), the “6ths” motive is elaborated. Here, the upper parts

are strictly octatonic in derivation but the two lower drones (E and A) are open strings of

the guitar. The E does not belong to the octatonic collection, but is a concession to the

open strings of the instrument.

The continuation of the “6ths” motive at mm. 41-42 (Ex.3-13c) is not octatonic

but hexatonic.166 Similarly, the octatonicism breaks down in the elaboration of the “6ths

motive” at mm.47-58, in what is essentially an embellishment of the hexatonic version

(see chapter five, page 7 for a demonstration of the hexatonic nature of this motive in

From Kakadu).

The “Risoluto” Theme (2)

The “Risoluto” theme is used very similarly in both Nourlangie and Quiros (see Table 3-

3 for cross-references). The initial statement of this theme in Nourlangie, mm.56-65, is

shown in Ex.3-14. The pitch content is overwhelming octatonic. From the octatonic

collection the theme draws its wealth of dissonance and the preponderance of the interval

of the semitone and the emphasis on the leap of the tritone. The theme has clear pitch

centricity of D, due mainly to the prominence of this pitch on the down-beat of every

measure. The aberrant pitches of the theme (circled) can be explained as chromatic

passing tones or neighbor tones, an interpretation which is supported by the consistent

166 A six-note collection formed of alternating pitch-class intervals one and three, just as the octatonic is formed of alternating pitch-class intervals one and two.

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rhythmic placement of ornamental pitches. Collaborating evidence for the ornamental

function of these aberrant pitches is also found in the “Misterioso” chords, which

constitute a harmonization of the opening portion of the “Risoluto” theme. In m.7 of

Nourlangie, the first chord is clearly ornamenting the second (see Ex.3-24, for instance)

and this chord corresponds to the first chromatic passing note of the “Risoluto” theme

(m.57).

The octatonic nature of the theme is also very clear in the guitar part in mm.78-87

(see Ex.3-15), where the added accompanying drones G#, D, and A are clearly derived

from the octatonic collection (type 2). From mm.88-93, an additional drone is added--

that of the low E. This low E does not belong to the octatonic collection but since the

low Eb is impossible to play on the guitar (this E is the lowest open string), the E natural

is clearly a concession to the open strings of the instrument.

The “Risoluto” theme returns later in Nourlangie for two statements over

mm.267-86 (the second shown in Ex.3-16). Here, it is transposed up a perfect fourth

such that it is now G-centric and exhibits type 3 octatonicism. There are further

supporting harmonies in the thickened guitar part, which unleashes a furious dissonant

assault. All accompanying pitches belong to the type 3 octatonic set, with the exception

of A-natural--which is again, an open string of the guitar. This section, and particularly

mm.281-286, is reminiscent of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring in the primitivist, elemental

fury unleashed. The similarities to Stravinsky’s work include the percussive pizzicato

chords, off-beat syncopated rhythms, and dissonant harmonies derived from the octatonic

collection (with the exception, again, of A natural). Presumably, in the context of

Nourlangie, this music relates to the awesome power of nature--such as the force of a

tropical monsoon.

The “Risoluto” theme has additional significance in Quiros in that it is the

motivic link between the octatonic material and the principal in-derived theme, the

“Elcho Island Lament” (a motivic similarity outlined in Ex.3-1). In the “Risoluto”

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theme, the germinal motivic ideas of the “Lament” (an upper neighbor of a semitone and

a lower neighbor of a tone) are developed into a long and winding theme composed of

small cellular motives. In so doing, Sculthorpe has radically altered the affect, forging a

theme with a distinctively primitivistic driving quality.

Motive “y” (3)

In Quiros, motive “y” has the quality of a transition, joining successive statements of the

“Risoluto” theme. It is seen, for example, in mm.81-82, linking the second and third

statements of the “Risoluto” theme (see Ex.3-17a). Motive “y” is also the prototype for

the guitar part in mm.72-77 (and also mm.94-99) of Nourlangie (see Ex.3-17b).

Motive “y” is based on the type 3 octatonic, with the exception of the pitch C. In

Quiros, this sets its use in mm.81-82 apart from the type 2 octatonicism used in the

surrounding “Risoluto” statements. The change in octatonic collection serves to highlight

this two bar fragment, which we hear again several times. The use of motive “y” is

therefore consistent with Sculthorpe’s general compositional practice of accentuating

structural junctions (noted previously). However, the modulation of octatonic types is

smoothed over by the common-tones between the two sets. The transition motive “y”

actually only introduces two new pitches, Db and G in the guitar’s upper line. This

prominent descending tritone also recalls several instances of the “Risoluto” theme. As

hinted above, the C natural in m.82 is the only potential “fly in the soup” of our octatonic

explanation. Perhaps this pitch is a modification to create an additional common-tone to

the succeeding measure, which prominently features C natural.

In Nourlangie, Sculthorpe exploits this motive (not be confused with transition

“y” in Table 3-1) in order to facilitate a modulation of octatonic types. It enables him to

bring in a new statement of the “Risoluto” that is transposed to be G-centric and employ

the type 3 octatonic (seen in mm.72, Ex.3-17b). The guitar part in mm.72-77 of

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Nourlangie is based on motive “y,” and is accompanied by a statement of part of the

“Risoluto” theme in the cello, on G (rather than D). The guitar part dwells heavily on the

pitches of the diminished seventh, D, F, Ab, B--notes that are common tones of both the

type 2 and type 3 octatonic collections. The return to the type 2 octatonic collection (and

the “Risoluto” theme centered on D) is accomplished at m.78. Here, the two collections

bleed into each other. The C natural in the guitar part in m.77 anticipates type 3

octatonicism, whereas the G and E in the strings in m.78 are a fleeting overlap of type 2

octatonicism from the preceding measures.

The “Yearning” Theme (4)

This strongly octatonic theme is used widely throughout Quiros (as outlined in Table 3-

6), but is dropped in Nourlangie.

Table 3-6. Use of the “Yearning” Theme in The Visions of Captain Quiros

Section Mm. Description II: Preparation 131-36 Principal Use 1 153-58 Principal Use 2 IV: Second Vision 271-74 Somewhat developed VI: Disillusionment 441-72 Developed into a Guitar cadenza, VII: Last Vision 522ff. References to head motive, E-Db-F, and the descending major seventh outline

The principal appearances of this theme show very clear octatonicism (Ex.3-18).

In the first two statements there is one aberrant pitch, C natural. A closer inspection of

mm.151-58 reveals the reason why this theme shares the same aberration as our motive

“y.” The “Yearning” theme is actually a melodic spinning-out of notes from the chords

of motive “y.” The C natural is a poignantly expressive pitch. Its functions as a

chromatic passing tone that resolves to Db in the lower octave--a displaced resolution.

This interpretation is underscored by the accompanying harmony in mm.153 and 156,

which feature an A7 chord--a subset of the type 3 octatonic collection (where Db is

enharmonically equivalent to C#).

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The statement of this theme at m.366 alongside the “6ths” motive is particularly

interesting in that it suggests a motivic link between these two themes, which both exploit

the descending minor sixth (see Ex.3-19).

The manifestation of this theme in “Part VI: Disillusionment,” mm.449-72, is

intriguing for this guitar cadenza (which employs an unusual scordatura with the sixth

string tuned down to Db) was later developed into a separate solo work, Nocturne, which

has also been withdrawn. The “Yearning” theme is developed here by the addition of an

introductory passage and subsequently by the isolation of the head motive of the

“Yearning” theme (E-Db-F)--which later returns in “Part VII: Last Vision.” While the

central core of this passage is the octatonic theme, the introductory passage and the

development which follows, are less strongly octatonic. Other compositional forces are

clearly also at work.167

The “Holy Spirit” Theme (5)

This theme, used in mm.379-85 and 427-40, displays only a loose octatonicism (see

Ex.3-20). The majority of the pitches demonstrate an octatonic outline (type 3) while

certain pitches clearly depart from this--namely A and F#. At times, the A and F# appear

to be ornamental, as in mm.391-94 where they decorate G#. However, G# itself is a

highly charged pitch because it is set against the backdrop of the pentatonic collection

{G, A, B, D, E}. It (G#) must ultimately resolve to G natural.

At mm.427-40 (see Ex.3-21), a clearer case can be made for the ornamental

nature of the aberrant pitches due to the consonance of G# (Ab) and F with the

167 For instance, the careful control of set-classes and interval is clearly evident. The ostinato in

the guitar shows the pitches Db-A-Ab, with pitch intervals 8 (Db-A) and 11 (A-Ab), while the head motive of the “Yearning” theme (E-Db-F), also shows these intervals (Db to F, and outline of E to F). Similarly, the [015] set-class (seen in the accompaniment ostinati) and the [014] set-class (seen in the head-motive) later combine in the set-class [0145], or the “Woolharra” chord.

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underlying harmonies in the strings. It is interesting to note that the inner voice pitches

of the guitar (G and B then later G and D) are at odds with the surrounding harmonies.

They are open strings, used as a dissonant pedal point to create extra color, along the

lines of Villa-lobos’s exploitation of open string pedals in his guitar music.

The “Misterioso” Chords (6)

The origin of these chords will be shown to be octatonic in nature, although this is

difficult to see at first glance. The genesis of this material will be unraveled subsequently

(section 3-5, page 129).

The “Parallel Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” Theme (7), and The “Wailing” Motive (8)

Superficially, these themes display clear type 1 octatonicism, as shown in Ex.3-22a,

Ex.3-22b, and Ex.3-23. However, we shall see that when these motives interact with the

“Misterioso” chords, the result is a more complicated tonal nexus.

A Summary of Familial Resemblances in Quiros

The discussion above alluded to numerous incidences of familial resemblance among

themes in Quiros. These are summarized in text here, with themes listed in order of their

first appearance. For convenient reference, all the principal themes of the work are also

listed below in Table 3-7 (including the non-octatonic ones).

The “Unrest” theme, the “Pacific” theme and the “Holy Spirit” theme are used

less extensively than the other themes, and have a less significant role. With the

exception of the “Lament,” the most important themes of Quiros are octatonic. They can

be grouped into three principal camps, as seen below:

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Table 3-7. The Principal Themes of Quiros and their Harmonic Derivation Theme Harmonic Derivation (1) the “6ths” motive (x1, x2, x3) (only x1 is octatonic) (2) the “Lament” theme (A) (sets derived from the in-scale ) (3) the “Risoluto” theme (B) (octatonic) (4) motive y, (y) (octatonic) (5) the “Yearning” theme, (C) (octatonic) (6) the “6ths” theme (x4) (unclear) (6) the “Unrest” theme (D) (unclear) (7) the “Pacific” theme (E) (Pentatonic) (8) the “Holy Spirit” theme (F) (loosely octatonic) (9) the “Misterioso” theme (G) (octatonic) (10) the “Wailing” motive (w) (octatonic) (11) the “Parallel Maj. 6th/Dim. 7th” theme (H) (octatonic)

(1) The “Lament” with the associated “6ths motive:” The “Lament” is subjected

to many different variations in Parts I, IV, and VII. These sections constitute the three

“visions” in the work’s full title: The Visions of Captain Quiros.

(2) The “Risoluto” motive, which is transformed into the “Misterioso” chords:

The “Misterioso” chords are, in turn, associated with two counter-subjects: the “Wailing”

motive and the “Parallel Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” theme. The “Risoluto” motive features

prominently in Parts II, V and VI.

(3) The “Yearning” theme: This is derived from motive “y,” and occurs

prominently across II, IV, VI, and VII.

As was hinted previously, the “Risoluto” also display a very similar head motive

as the “Lament” (mi-fa-mi-re), providing a link between the music based on the Japanese

in-scale and the music based on the octatonic (compare Ex.3-1b and Ex.3-1d).

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3-5. The Genesis of the “Misterioso” Chords: A Mystery Unraveled

As stated at the outset of this discussion, the key to unlocking the mystery of the

“Misterioso” chords168 is hidden within Quiros. To avoid confusion, let me state here

that in describing this musical passage as a succession of chords rather than a theme, per

se, I imply that the real musical interest lies in the harmonies themselves. For the

melodic line in the second violin is actually a rhythmic augmentation of the “Risoluto”

theme. The first full appearance of the “Misterioso” chords in Nourlangie appears in

mm.4-11, and is illustrated in Ex.3-24. Strictly speaking, only the notes in the second

violin, viola, and cello--the parts moving in half notes--actually belong to the

“Misterioso” chords.

Ex.3-25 gives a reduction of these string parts from mm.4-7 only, with the non-

octatonic notes circled. The large amount of aberrant pitches might appear to argue

against a simple octatonic explanation. However, these aberrant pitches can again be

rationalized as either ornamental or related to the open strings of the guitar (the A natural,

for instance). The latter explanation is relevant despite the fact that these chords appear

in the strings in their first appearance in Nourlangie, for this music was originally written

for the guitar in Quiros.

Both the “ornamental” explanation and the “open string” explanation are borne

out by a closer examination of Quiros that unravels an apparent compositional process in

the creation of these measures (which may or may not represent the exact order of steps

that Sculthorpe took). The compositional chronology of these steps is irrelevant. What

matters is that a developmental process is evident in the music, one involving the

discovery and use of four key chords throughout Quiros (labeled M1, M2, M3, and M--

see, for instance, Ex.3-29 and Ex.3-30) that become the structural pillars of the

“Misterioso” music. In several instances across Quiros, Sculthorpe demonstrates a

peculiar affection for alternating pairs of sonorities (such as in mm.59-66, 99-102,103-14,

168 My own label derived from Sculthorpe’s expressive marking in the score of Nourlangie.

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221-22, and 357-60). Several of these instances contain the germinal ideas for the

“Misterioso” music. Each stage of the unfolding compositional process that ensues

across the score of Quiros lends support to the argument that aberrant pitch content is

either ornamental (rather than structural) or makes concession to the open strings of the

guitar.

An Evolutionary Process: Part One

The evolution of the first four measures of the “Misterioso” chords takes a three-step

process. In the first stage, the germinal idea consists of the two chords of type 3

octatonic derivation that are outlined twice on the guitar in mm.103-06 of Quiros (Ex.3-

26). I label these M1 and M2. The note A natural is the only aberrant pitch in these

chords, and it can clearly be considered a compromise to the limitations of the guitar for

the lowest three pitches of the first chord are all open strings. Flattening the pitch on the

fifth string (A) to Ab would correct this aberration but this is not possible as A is the

lowest note on this string (unless scordatura were used). Rationalization of this A

natural would not have been possible if these chords had not originated on the guitar.

Other evidence suggests that Sculthorpe did originally intended an Ab. For instance, in

the string version of the “Misterios” chords in Nourlangie ( m.5), chord M2 is altered to

have an Ab (all the guitar versions have A natural). However, Sculthorpe does not alter

the A natural in chord M1 to Ab, so either he decided he preferred A natural, or it was an

oversight.

In the second stage, these germinal chords (M1 and M2) become the structural

pillars subject to elaboration. After the first two statements, they are developed by the

addition of embellishing chords (shown in the second line of Ex.3-26). First, Sculthorpe

adds a chord between M1 and M2. Second, he adds an embellishing chord before M1.

The ornamental nature of the added chords is made clear in this context, ornamenting the

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structural octatonic sonorities with simultaneous chromatic neighbors. As the functions

of these added chords are ornamental, their non-octatonic nature is not problematic.

In the third stage, Sculthorpe takes the ingenious step of integrating these chords

with the “Risoluto” theme in the top voice. This first occurs in Quiros in mm.399-402

(virtually identical to mm.425-22, as seen in Ex.3-29). This involves harmonizing the

lower neighbor F with a lower neighbor triad in the upper three parts. We have now

accounted for the first four measures of the “Misterioso” music.

An Evolutionary Process: Part Two

The next four measures of the “Misterioso” chords follow a similar line of evolution.

This process begins in “Part III: The Pacific.” Here, Sculthorpe develops the motive of

the descending tritone that is seen prominently in the “Unrest” theme (and which is also

present in the “Risoluto” theme itself). Ex.3-27 shows the tail end of one statement of

this theme, beginning at m.209, and clearly illustrates the descending tritone in m.212. In

the short transition passage that follows (mm.215-22), the guitar part isolates this

descending interval and fiddles around with it (see Ex.3-27). At mm.221-22, the two

chords used outline tritone leaps in both the highest and lowest voices.

Sculthorpe must have particularly liked the second chord created here (prototype

M3), because he used it again at mm.357-64, where the process continues (see Ex.3-28).

Sculthorpe creates a new pair of chords, using prototype M3 as the first chord in the new

pair, and altering it by the additional of a low E open string. The first chord (M3) now

contains a tritone between the highest two voices (F-B) and the lowest two voices (E-

Bb). The added second chord (M4) preserves the original melodic descending interval of

the tritone.

The harmonic content of M3 and M4 is more enigmatic. Chord M3 is almost

octatonic were it not for A natural. It is particularly interesting that chord M3 has the

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same set-class as M1 ([012578]). I suggest that Sculthorpe altered chord M3 precisely so

as to achieve the same set-class as M1, whose departure from pure octatonicism was

determined by the alteration of a low Ab to A natural to conform to the open strings of

the guitar.

Chord M4 could be considered bitonal, formed from the superimposition of two

minor triads a major third apart. More significantly, this chord contains the subset [0145]

that had long been one of Sculthorpe’s favored sonorities, prompting his students to call

it the “Woolharra” chord (after the Sydney suburb in which the composer lived).169

Another elegant explanation of chord M4 is that its content is hexatonic (like portions of

the “6ths” motive). Its interval-class content (ICV = <202420>) is notable for containing

no interval-class 2 or 6. The hexatonic explanation gathers further evidence in that the

use of chord M4 is associated with the hexatonic “6ths” motive at mm.357-60.170

In the final stage of the evolution of the “Misterioso” chords, Sculthorpe

composes the second phrase of the eight-bar “Misterioso” music, employing all four

pillar chords, M1, M2, M3 and M4, and inserting several ornamental chords.

Incidentally, this phrase does not contain the “Risoluto” theme in the upper voice (apart

from the motive of the descending tritone). It is more cadential in character. The final

two bars use some new chords, some with similar properties to M4. This is most clearly

seen in the version for strings at the beginning of Nourlangie, where Sculthorpe uses a

sonority with an identical set-class to M4 and ends with the “Woolharra” chord--see

Ex.3-29.

169 Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 15. As noted in chapter 1, footnote 102, Hayes

adds that the composer and performer Miriam Hyde calls this sonority the “Sculthorpe” chord when announcing musical performances.

170 See chapter five, page 189, for an explanation of how this version of the “6ths” motive, as used

in From Kakadu, embellishes an underlying hexatonic collection.

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Differing Versions

The full statements of the “Misterioso” chords exist in a couple of different versions

which each exhibit minute differences. The three principal versions are compared in

Ex.3-29. First, there are the full statements in Quiros, which constitute the final part of

the process described above (and which actually each have slightly different endings).

Second, there is the string version at the beginning of Nourlangie (mm.3-11) and later in

mm.192-99. Third, there are the guitar versions in Nourlangie, (three statements over

mm.267-86). The guitar versions in Nourlangie are the most simplified--modified in

several small ways in order to accommodate more open strings of the guitar! A summary

of the ways in which the four chords, M1, M2, M3, and M4 are structural pillars--around

which the other notes are essentially ornamental--is illustrated in graphic notation in

Ex.3-30.

3-6. The Integration and Interaction of Octatonic Themes in Nourlangie

In Nourlangie and Quiros, three octatonic themes are superimposed: the “Misterioso”

chords, the “Parallel Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” theme, and the “Wailing” motive. More

specifically, the last two are used as counter-subjects layered on top of the “Misterioso”

chords. Their addition is used to heighten tension in successive repetitions of the

“Misterioso” chords.

For instance, in “Part V: The South Land of the Holy Spirit” of Quiros, there are

three statements of the “Misterioso” chords, each one building on the previous with

additional thematic material, thicker instrumentation, and an increase in volume. The

“Wailing” motive is superimposed onto the second statement of the “Misterioso” chords,

and on the third statement the “Parallel Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” theme is also piled on top.

In Nourlangie, mm.176-99, there are the same three statements and a similar dramatic

build up, but with some slight differences. On the second statement, both the “Wailing”

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theme and the “Parallel Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” theme are added simultaneously. In the

third statement, the “Misterioso” chords are swapped from the guitar to tutti strings. But

in the second half of the statement the guitar returns, adding to the climactic build-up into

m.200 where fortissimo clusters in the strings are used to imitate the screeching of

massed flight of birds. The superimposition of the string and guitar versions of the

“Misterioso” chords in mm.196-99 creates further dissonance.

The superimposition of these three musical ideas (the “Misterioso” chords, the

“Wailing” motive, and the “Parallel Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” theme) creates a complex and

dissonant mass of sound (as seen in Ex.3-31). The difficulties in analyzing the pitch

content are therefore numerous. We have already established that, for the most part, the

“Misterioso” chords have their genesis in a type 3 octatonicism. It can also be seen that

they are predominantly G-centric in nature due to the structural importance of chord M1

(see Ex.3-30). However, the additional musical material of the “Wailing” motive and the

“Parallel Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” theme appear to contradict this framework.

For instance, it was cited previously that the “Wailing” motive in m.184 of

Nourlangie appears to conform to a type 1 octatonic collection (Ex.3-23). The

intersection of these two themes, however, arguably creates an underlying structural

tetrachord Db-E-G-Bb. These are the notes at the outer ranges of the created pitch

conglomerate--the top two notes of the guitar (Db and G), and the bottom two notes of

the double bass (E and Bb). These pitches are also stressed by the “Parallel Maj.

6ths/Dim. 7ths” theme in the first violin (lower part) at m.184 (see Ex.3-31). More

significantly, these pitches are the common tones between the two octatonic collections

involved (type 1 and type 3). In the subsequent repetition of this music, the double-bass

parts change from the pitches E-Bb to A-Db. The A natural changes the function of the

tetrachord Db-E-G-Bb to become part of a Ab9 chord (similar to instances in Quiros, as

shown in Ex.3-33). Centricity is principally established in these measures (mm.184ff,

Ex.3-31) through the regular structural placement of pitches (their appearance on

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prominent down-beats). Other pitches tend to act as ornaments around the structural

pillars on the downbeats--the notes Db-E-G-Bb. When compared to this framework, the

other notes of the type 1 octatonic collection in the “Wailing” motive become ornamental

in nature, sounding and functioning like neighbors.

The ornamental nature of the “Wailing” motive gives it its peculiarly dissonant,

“wailing” character. Most of the theme can be interpreted identically to m.184, as

ornamenting E and Db. Indeed, this sense is strong enough that in m.190, the Eb that

ends the musical line is heard as an incomplete neighbor. In mm.188-89, however, the

motive departs from the surface type 1 octatonicism. Yet, arguably, the basic ornamental

function of most of the pitch content continues. The “Wailing” motive ornaments pivotal

notes of the “Misterioso” chords. Therefore, when “Misterioso” chord M3 is played, B

and D (and perhaps E) are consonant while C and Eb are ornamental. But when

“Misterioso” chord M4 is played (in the second half of the bar), the C becomes consonant

while B and D become ornamental. In m.189, Sculthorpe presumably changes the E to

Eb to match the “Parallel Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” theme, for originally, in Quiros, it was E

natural both times.171.

The interpretation of the “Parallel Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” theme creates further

dilemmas. As shown previously, parts of this theme appear to conform more or less to

type 1 octatonicism. However, it should be pointed out that the whole theme is not

perfectly consistent with any one octatonic type (not all of it is as purely octatonic as the

excerpts in Ex.3-22). It seems then, that certain pitches might play an ornamental role.

If we examine the single-voiced version of the theme in the context of

Nourlangie, this can clarify the issue somewhat. The theme originates as a counterpoint

to the “Misterioso” chords in Quiros, but in Nourlangie Sculthorpe also extracts it to be

played with simple accompaniment in several key passages--mm.2-3 in the violin,

171 As seen in mm.412-13 of Quiros, for instance (not shown on any example here).

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mm.170-73 in the cello, and in a two-voice version at mm.174-75 (shown in Ex.3-32).

The theme consists of two segments, a and b, both containing similar motivic material.

Segment a is not clearly octatonic but could be considered to be loosely type 1 (Ab as

anomaly) or type 2 (Eb as anomaly). On the other hand, segment b conforms neatly to

type 1 octatonicism. When both segments are considered in the light of their underlying

accompaniment (the low dyad E-Bb), it becomes clear that the pitch content functions

rather differently. All notes not conforming to the diminished triad E-G-Bb act as

neighbors. The Eb and Ab in segment a function as incomplete neighbors, while in

segment b the Gb and A function as a double neighbor group.

Correspondingly, in mm.184-87 (see Ex.3-31)--which consists of two two-voiced

statements of segment a--the Eb-C dyad and A-F dyad are incomplete neighbor chords.

This theme therefore reinforces the structural importance of the diminished seventh

tetrachord {Db-E-G-Bb}--which, as stated previously, is a subset of octatonic types 1 and

3.

Similarly, in mm.188-89 (see Ex.3-31)--which consist of a two-voice statement of

segment b--the Gb-Eb dyad and the A-Gb dyad form a double-neighbor group, except

that here they don’t resolve properly. The dyad A-Gb connects in a chromatic passing

motion through Ab-F, which itself wants to resolve to E-G but never does. The bass

notes E and Bb (seen in the guitar part at the downbeats of mm.188 and 189) are still

essentially ruling in these measures but F and G in the double-bass part appear to be a

reharmonization of the Ab-F dyad in the “Parallel Maj. 6ths/Dim. 7ths” theme, making it

locally consonant, although at a deeper level it is an incomplete chromatic passing note.

The validity of this interpretation is perhaps easier to perceive in the subsequent

repeat of the “Misterioso” chords where the bass notes A and Db are reinforced at the

beginning of every measure (instead of every second measure). As an illustration, a

parallel situation is shown from Quiros, mm.417-22, in Ex.3-33.

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CHAPTER 4: Tropic

4-1. The Rationale for an Analysis and Hermeneutic

This chapter is both an analysis of Tropic (written for the group Attacca, consisting of

two guitars, violin, clarinet, double bass, and percussion) and a hermeneutic reading. As

such, it makes no claims to definitiveness. Rather, the hermeneutic is presented as a way

of tying together analysis and meaning in a more interesting way--in a format that

alternates between analysis and interpretation. The underlying goals of this discussion

are threefold: (1) to illustrate Sculthorpe’s musical language, (2) to provide the reader

with a fuller and deeper understanding of the work, and (3) to provide performers with a

philosophical and analytical framework with which to approach the work, one which

should ultimately influence performance.

The overriding framework for this analysis is provided by the melodies of the

work itself and the three principal musical sections that alternate: “Lontano,” “Molto

sostenuto,” and “Estatico.” The focus of much of the discussion are the melodies

themselves, for Sculthorpe’s unashamed love of melody is a prominent feature of Tropic.

The important themes of the work are listed below:

(1) The “Lontano” melody

(2) “Djilile”

(3) The “Elcho Island Lament” (short references to it only)

(4) The “Dr. Papper” theme

(5) The “Estatico” melody

Note that the labels employed are Sculthorpe’s in the case of (2) and (3) and mine in the

case of (1), (4), and (5).

All of these melodies have indigenous descent--with the exception of the “Dr.

Papper” theme, which is original to Sculthorpe and was first used in the orchestral piece

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Kakadu. The melodies of the “Lontano” and “Estatico” sections are based on tunes from

the Torres Strait Islands (a small string of islands between Northern Australia and New

Guinea) that were collected by ethnomusicologist Jeremy Beckett.1 Both of these are

pentatonic in nature and make their first appearance in this work. On the other hand, the

melody “Djilile,” which is of Aboriginal descent (from the Dua camp in Arnhem Land),

has been widely used throughout Sculthorpe’s oeuvre. Similarly, there are multiple short

references to the “Elcho Island Lament,” which stems from Elcho Island (just off the

coast of Arnhem Land) and is used extensively in other works.

The prevalence of indigenous melodies in this work led to it being called Dream

Tracks in the original version for violin, clarinet, and piano. As part of the program note

to Dream Tracks, Sculthorpe writes: Since 1988 I have written a series of works inspired by Kakadu National Park, in the north of Australia. Some of these works have melodic material in common, the contours of each usually being transformed in some way, both within pieces and in successive pieces. I have come to regard these melodies as songlines or dreaming tracks. These are names used to describe the labyrinth of invisible pathways that, according to Aboriginal belief, are created by the totemic ancestors of all species as they sing the world into existence. Dream Tracks, then, sets out to summon up the spirit of a northern Australia landscape.2

Due to the fact that certain melodies recur repeatedly in Sculthorpe’s oeuvre,

comparisons between works can be revealing. From piece to piece, the Kakadu songlines

are often modified to fit in with each new musical and emotional context. Arguably, they

still retain a strong degree of identity, a characteristic affect or affective region. Each

different setting explores a different shade of potential meaning in the theme. It follows,

therefore, that one setting can yield tremendous insights into another. I will examine

1 The source of this melody was Traditional Music of Torres Strait [sound recording], compiled

by Jeremy Beckett; musical analysis and transcriptions by Trevor A. Jones (Canberra: Australian Institute of Aboriginal Studies, 1981). This item is seen in the library of the University of Sydney where Sculthorpe taught.

2 Deborah Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press,

1993), 86. The entire composer’s note is given in chapter 2, page 61.

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each of the important themes in Tropic and will use comparisons of their settings in

different works in a hermeneutic effort to unravel their latent meanings.

4-2. The “Lontano” Melody

Harmonization

The “Lontano” melody, like that of the “Estatico,” is a free adaptation of a Torres Strait

Island melody. Based on the major pentatonic collection {F, G, A, C, D}, it is shown in

Ex.4-1. The use of indigenous melodies from the Torres Strait Islands creates unique

problems for Sculthorpe, a composer who has delighted in chromatic neighbor tones

throughout much of his music. How can he reconcile his musical style with the

anhemitonic nature of the pentatonic scale? Since he began to make use of pentatonic

source material Sculthorpe has often remolded his musical language around the

pentatonicism of the melody to create a musical style that, if not strictly pentatonic, is

predominantly consonant (using “black” notes sparingly to introduce tension).3

Examples of Sculthorpe’s predominantly consonant settings of pentatonic melodies

include the “Estatico” melody in Tropic and the principal theme of the guitar concerto,

Nourlangie. Sculthorpe’s approach to the setting of the “Lontano” melody, however, is

radically different. Rather, than create an accompaniment that roughly conforms to the

melody’s pentatonicism, he chose to put the melody at odds with the accompanying

harmony. His setting delights in the potential conflicts between the underlying musical

fabric (emphasizing the semitone) and the superimposed anhemitonic melody.

The interval of the semitone is highlighted with the simultaneity Bb-A in the

clarinet and violin. The melody then continues to develop this semitone melodically in

the violin. After this discordant beginning, the F-major pentatonic melody begins to

emerge (and is subsequently repeated with elaboration). This odd tonal shift emphasizes

3 Sculthorpe mentioned this analogy in phone conversations with the present author.

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the childlike innocence (and perhaps naïve character) of the melody, which was

originally a children’s song4.

The accompaniment begins with a juicy bitonal chord, which stacks together two

major triads, one on F# major and one on A major.5 The tonal pull is most strongly

towards F# (enharmonically Gb), however--mainly due to the simple fact that it is the

lowest sounding bass note--such that the resultant sonority could be considered a F#

major/minor chord with added seventh. This would seem to have little relationship with

the F-major pentatonic melody. In fact, it seems to create a jarring backdrop to which the

ear can find no convenient reconciliation. The bitonal interpretation--F# major versus F

major--is unavoidable. This has the curious effect of placing the pentatonic melody in

bold relief, as if the listener is hearing the scale in a new way or perhaps for the first time,

reinforcing its quality of childlike innocence.

Although the focus of the “Lontano” are these bitonal conflicts, the entry of the

new theme (“Djilile”) at the “Molto sostenuto” in m.13 is accompanied by a clear

establishment of A as tonal center. Immediately preceding this arrival (that is, mm.11-

12) there are also weak implications of I-V-I in F major. In this way, tonal clarity at the

“Molto sostenuto” section emerges out of tonal confusion.

The suggestion of I-V-I in F major at the end of the “Lontano” section is seen in

the violin and clarinet parts in mm.11-12 with the succession of dyads F-A, E-Bb, and

unison on A. The tritone E-Bb suggests V of F, although it appears above the

accompanying set-class [0157] {C, Db, F, G}. Stacked in thirds, the total conglomerate

could be considered a C chord (triad C, E, G) with added dominant seventh (Bb), minor

ninth (Db) and eleventh (F). Similarly, the resolution to unison on A is like chord iii (of

4 See the composer’s note to Dream Tracks, which can be found in Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A

Bio-Bibliography, 86. It is also printed in full in chapter 2, page 61 of this study. 5 This sonority, [01469], is also an octatonic subset, although there is no other evidence for

octatonicism here.

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F) as a tonic substitute--ultimately facilitating the shift to A-centricity at m.13. In the

context of F major, the opening bitonal chord, which could be considered F#

major/minor, is like a Neapolitan. The underlying harmonies of the “Lontano” thus

resemble the progression bII (or bii) to V to iii in F major.

The second chord in the accompaniment of the “Lontano” section, or the set-class

[0157], is one of Sculthorpe’s favorite sonorities, being a subset of the Japanese in-scale.

It is used extensively in subsequent returns of the “Lontano” music, at mm.102-12 and

particularly in mm.226-33. This sonority is also the perfect union of the anhemitonic

melody and the semitone-rich accompaniment, comprising the stacked fifths F-C-G

(anhemitonic) superimposed over Db in the bass (thereby creating the semitone C-Db).

Suggested Hermeneutic

Bitonality portrays conflict and tension. Childlike innocence is thus highlighted against

this dark, brooding background. Due to the centrality of the landscape to this piece (and

to this period in Sculthorpe’s compositions), it is tempting to interpret these ideas with

regard to man’s relationship to the land, as if portraying a hidden, even unconscious

political message. The portrayed conflict suggests the tension between modern man and

the environment, while the quality of innocence perhaps signifies an idealized view of

Aboriginal man as epitomizing the noble savage, the Arcadia of a subtle and intricate

nomadic society in perfect harmony with nature. It thus signifies an innocence lost,

underscoring the unrest in the natural environment from the onslaught of modern man.

The implicit message I’m suggesting here is a pro-environment, conservationist

cause, and is in no way meant to demean Aboriginal culture by over-simplifying it.

Environmental lobby groups in Australia frequently hold up Aboriginal culture (before

the white men came) as a virtuous example of responsible land management. Their

relationship with the land is both mystical and complex. Considering themselves

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stewards rather than owners, per se, they never exhausted the resources of any one

particular region, but moved around periodically to allow re-growth and recovery. This

stands in contrast to the devastation wrought by English settlement, including

deforestation, pollution, depletion of natural fishing reserves, and the extinction of

thousands of species of native flora and fauna.

The emergence of tonal focus at the end of the “Lontano” hints that something

new is in store, something to provide a hope and a future, and perhaps reclaim the

harmony with nature that was lost.

4-3. The “Molto Sostenuto” Section: “Djilile” and the “Elcho Island Lament”

Harmonization and Internal Structure

The “Molto sostenuto” section is based primarily on the melody “Djilile,” or “whispering

duck on a billabong” (as shown in Ex.4-3). The origin and ancestry of this melody in

Sculthorpe’s music was outlined in chapter one, page 36. In summary, “Djilile” is an

Aboriginal melody of the Dua camp in Arnhem Land, and symbolizes the dreamtime in

Sculthorpe’s works. This theme remains virtually unchanged in its melodic details

throughout Sculthorpe’s oeuvre. However, the surrounding musical fabric in Tropic is

taken almost directly from the orchestral piece Kakadu.

The tune has an improvisatory quality due to its repetition of small motivic cells

and its narrow range, G to D in a diatonic collection. The sense of tonic in the original

melody is not entirely clear. It begins on A but phrases end on either C or G.

Sculthorpe’s version of “Djilile” is clearly a personal, Westernized adaptation of the

original. It views indigenous culture through colored glasses. Sculthorpe’s setting

clearly tonicizes the A, giving the melody the essence of aeolian mode. Much of the

charm of this setting is in the way this causes the most common “final”, G, to become an

unstable pitch.

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The feeling of A as pitch center is partly created by the A drones which usher in

the melody in mm.12-13 (in the violin and clarinet). It is strengthened by the

interpolation of mm.23-26 which is derived from the “Elcho Island Lament” (and the in

collection A, Bb, D, E, F) and is strongly A-centric with its constant reiteration of the

open fifth A-E. The centricity of A is consolidated by the entry of the second guitar

ostinato in m.28 (which also fills out the full gamut of the diatonic collection), with its

constant A bass and A-E dyad. This A-centricity is strong enough to sustain an upper

pedal point on the second and seventh degrees of the scale, in the violin from m.43

onwards. Similarly, it is strong enough to undergird the addition of the highly chromatic

and ornamental “Dr. Papper” theme, starting in m.52.

The “Djilile” melody is interrupted several times by foreign material clearly

derived from the “Elcho Island Lament.” This occurs at mm.23-26, 38-42, 53-54, 55-62,

73-74, and 85-86 (see, for example, mm.23-36 in Ex.4-3). The similarities with the

“Elcho Island Lament” are seen in the upper voice with its tell-tale upper neighbor of a

semitone and the lower neighbor of a tone. Note also the rhythmic placement of these

neighbors as suspensions prepared on an off-beat. Moreover, all these interpolations are

based on the in collection, set-class [01568], thus inhabiting the same Asian-derived tonal

sound-world that can be seen in other works using the “Lament”.

As with From Kakadu, many of these interpolations create [0157] sets by

stacking two fifths and including a neighbor to the central pitch (see Ex.4-2). The use of

[0157] in Tropic is functionally similar to its use in short bridge passages in Nourlangie.

It continues to be the perennial “away” sonority in this piece, manifesting in these short

interruptions of the “Djilile” theme. It is actually also a feature of the accompanying

musical fabric of “Djilile”, where the underlying structural dyad, A-E, is decorated by

two neighboring pitches, B and F (see the underlying harmonies shown in Ex.4-4). The

use of [0157] is thus rampant throughout the entire piece.

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There are distinct differences here from the use of the “Lament” in From Kakadu,

however. For example, in From Kakadu the D in the defining motive E-F-E-D is a

harmonic anomaly, not belonging to the prolonged in collection {A, B, C, E, F}.

However, in Tropic at mm.23-26 the distinctive motive E-F-E-D is combined with the in

collection (D, E, F, A, Bb) where the D is not an anomaly but an essential member, even

though the music is decidedly A-centric.

Several of the interpolations in the “Molto sostenuto” section are subtly different,

despite each being derived from the “Lament.” These are illustrated in Table 4-1.

Firstly, there are the fragments labeled “Elcho Island Fragment I” at mm.23-26 and 38-

42. These are A-centric and based on the in collection {A, B, D, E, F}. Mm.55-62 is a

transposed version of “Elcho Island Fragment I” based on the in collection {C, Db, F, G,

Ab}. Mm.53-54, 73-74, and 85-86 are somewhat different (labeled “Elcho Island

Fragment II”). Although they are also A-centric, they are based on the in collection

{E, F, A, B, C}.

Table 4-1. Tonality in the “Molto Sostenuto” Section of Tropic

Mm. Theme Harmonic Content Centricity 13-22 “Djilile” (1st) alone {G, A, B, C, D, E} A-centric 23-27 Elcho Island fragment I In collect. {A, Bb, D, E, F} A-centric 28-37 “Djilile” (2nd) & accomp. Diatonic/Aeolian A-centric 38-42 Elcho Island fragment I In collect. {A, Bb, D, E, F} A-centric 43-52 “Djilile” (3rd) & accomp. Diatonic/Aeolian A-centric 53-54 Elcho Island fragment II [0157]{E, F, A, B}, + C#/C (cl.) modulatory creates in collect.{E, F, A, B, C} 55-60 Elcho Island fragment I In collect. {C, Db, F, G, Ab} C-centric 61-62 Extension... (same) 63-72 “Djilile” (4th) & accomp. Diatonic/Aeolian A-centric + “Dr. Papper” theme + chromaticism and mixture 73-74 Elcho Island fragment II [0157]{E, F, A, B} modulatory + C#/C (clar.) creates In collect.{E, F, A, B, C} 75-84 “Djilile” (5th) & accomp Diatonic/Aeolian A-centric + “Dr. Papper” theme continues + chromaticism and mixture 85-86 Elcho Island fragment II [0157]{E, F, A, B}, + C#/C (cl.) modulatory creates in collect.{E, F, A, B, C} 87-92 Codetta based on “Djilile” chord Eb

9/A going to A

11 A-centric

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Broader Structure

The music of the “Molto sostenuto” section builds according to standard minimalist

procedures of gradual layering through the stepped addition of musical material as each

instrument is added one by one. The process is not dissimilar to Sculthorpe’s home-

grown technique of “growth through accretion.” However, in this context the changes

accrue very gradually. And, more significantly, the “Djilile” melody remains unchanged

throughout, simply being repeated over and over again as extra parts are piled up on top.

In all, “Djilile,” is given five full statements, each ten bars in length.

The first is for solo guitar, the second adds another guitar (providing an A-centric

ostinato), the third adds a violin ostinato, and the fourth adds a new melody on the

clarinet (the “Dr. Papper” theme) which continues into the fifth and final statement. Each

statement is interspersed with short fragments from the “Elcho Island Lament.” This

gradual layering is illustrated in Table 4-2 below.

The repeat of the “Molto Sostenuto” in mm.167-196 is drastically truncated,

employing only two full statements of “Djilile.” Fragments of the “Lontano” melody

also appear in the violin and clarinet.

Table 4-2. Minimalist Layering in the “Molto Sostenuto” Section of Tropic

Mm. Theme Instrumentation 13-22 “Djilile” (1st) alone gtr.1 23-27 Elcho Island fragment I gtr.1 28-37 “Djilile” (2nd) & accomp. gtr.1, gtr.2 38-42 Elcho Island fragment I gtr.1, gtr.2 43-52 “Djilile” (3rd) & accomp. gtr.1, gtr.2, vln. 53-54 Elcho Island fragment II gtr.1, gtr.2, vln., cl. 55-60 Elcho Island fragment I gtr.1, gtr.2, vln., cl., (bass) 61-62 Extension... gtr.1, gtr.2, vln., cl., (bass) 63-72 “Djilile” (4th) & accomp. gtr.1, gtr.2, vln., cl., bass + “Dr Papper” theme 73-74 Elcho Island fragment II gtr.1, gtr.2, vln., cl., bass, perc. 75-84 “Djilile” (5th) & accomp gtr.1, gtr.2, vln., cl., bass, perc. + “Dr Papper” theme continues 85-86 Elcho Island fragment II gtr.1, gtr.2, vln., cl., bass, perc. 87-92 Codetta based on “Djilile” gtr.1, gtr.2, vln., cl., bass,perc.

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Suggested Hermeneutic

Following the portrayal of the conflict between modern man and the environment in our

reading of the “Molto sostenuto,” it is as if the music suggests that a spiritual rebirth is

needed. This passage is like a realization of the sentiment expressed by Roger Covell

quoted in his book Australia’s Music (quoting Ainslie Roberts) that “[a]ccess to the

original sprit of the land can only be gained through the mind of the Aboriginal.” And

prior to this, Roberts describes the “mind of the Aboriginal” thus: By virtue of thousand of years of usage, the history of Australia belongs to the Aboriginal. This history was not physical, but sprang from his ancient mythology, by which his daily life and custom were ruled and which gave him complete identity with his physical surroundings. 6

This is reminiscent of Sculthorpe’s comments in the program note to Earth Cry (1986),

where he anthropomorphizes the earth, saying “perhaps we now need to attune ourselves

to this continent, to listen to the cry [italics mine] of the earth, as the Aborigines have

done for many thousands of years.”

The “Djilile” melody signifies much more than the translation “whispering duck.”

It is documented that, for Sculthorpe, it symbolizes the dreamtime,7 that legendary time

of the ancestors in Aboriginal mythology: a time before time, and a time of creation.

“Djilile” is our link, the getting in touch with the “mind of the Aboriginal.” Significantly,

the gradual metamorphosis through accumulative textural layering seen in the “Molto

sostenuto” section is much like a creation narrative, or rebirth. And the essential quality

of the “Elcho Island Lament” is, of course, that it is a lament. With their yearning

6 Roger Covell, Australia’s Music: Themes of a New Society (Melbourne: Sun Books, 1967), 87.

Covell cites Catherine Ellis, Aboriginal Music Making: A Study of Central Australian Music (Adelaide: Libraries Board of South Australia, 1964), who quotes Ainslie Roberts (the full citation is not given).

7 Wilfred Mellers, “New Worlds. Old Wildernesses: Peter Sculthorpe and the Ecology of Music,”

The Atlantic 268/2 (Aug 1991): 94-98

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character, the interpolations of the “Lament” are like birth pangs--momentary pain, in the

unfolding metamorphosis of spiritual rebirth.

4-4. The “Dr. Papper” Theme

Harmonization

This theme was originally composed as a counterpoint to “Djilile” in Sculthorpe’s

successful orchestral work, Kakadu.8 The melody is Sculthorpe’s own, not derived from

any indigenous source. In Tropic, the melody enters in the clarinet towards the end of the

gradual build-up of the “Molto sostenuto” section, where it is superimposed above

“Djilile.” Due to the fact that “Djilile” existed in many works before Kakadu, we know

that the “Dr. Papper” theme (a name coined by the present author--see “Suggested

Hermeneutic” below) was composed later to fit with “Djilile.” In a way it is typical of a

certain type of melody in Sculthorpe’s music in that it clearly conforms to the essentially

static underlying harmonies, consisting of dissonant and chromatic embellishments

(passing and neighbor notes).9 An excerpt is shown in graphic notation in Ex.4-4

showing how it essentially ornaments an A major arpeggio, with particular focus on the

dyad A-E, which is also the backbone of the accompaniment.

Despite this underlying consonant melodic stasis, this melody also ushers in a

new level of dissonance that intensifies the texture and contributes to the dramatic

buildup. This extra dissonance is seen not only in the chromatic passing tones, but also in

the strikingly pungent cross-relations with the “Djilile” melody (C# to C natural). It also

8 Or rather, “Djilile” is a counterpoint to the “Dr Papper” theme according to Peter Sculthorpe,

Sun Music: Journey’s and Reflections from a Composer’s Life (Adelaide: Griffin Press, 1999), 256. 9 Michael Hannan, Peter Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas (St Lucia, London, New York:

University of Queensland Press, 1982), 43.

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evokes a certain nineteenth century quality with its use of mixture, constantly wavering

back and forth between F natural and F sharp (as neighbors to E).10 Its dependence on

chromatic voice-leading, sultry cross-relations, and expressive use-of mixture link it more

closely to the European Romantic tradition than the other melodies in Tropic.

Repetition occurs at many levels in this melody. The structure of the “Dr.

Papper” theme can be seen to consist essentially of a series of nested binary patterns

(illustrated in Ex.4-5 and Ex.4-6). Mm.63-72 is repeated with minor variations at

mm.75-84. These coincide with two statements of “Djilile.” The ten-bar unit of mm.63-

72 can be divided into two, mm.63-67 paralleling mm.68-72. The five bar unit can be

divided again into two different sub-phrases, which can also be divided into two

distinctive motives. The entire melody also shows a beautiful symmetry in that motives

from the introduction (x and y in Ex.4-5, mm.53-54) are repeated at the very center

(mm.73-74) and at the very end (mm.85-86). In general, the dense motivic construction

of this melody lends it an improvisatory quality.

Suggested Hermeneutic

Dr. Papper was a trustee for the Aspen Music Festival who commissioned the orchestral

work Kakadu (where this themes first occurs) as a birthday gift for his wife. This melody

is described by the composer as a “caressing cor-anglais melody, intended to suggest both

Manny Papper and his love for his wife, Patricia.”11 The theme has an obvious wooing

quality. As the composer’s comment implies, this applies not only to Dr. Papper’s love

10 The pitches cited here are at concert pitch, spelled according to their harmonic functions. In the

actual score, Sculthorpe employs enharmonic equivalents in the Bb clarinet part that presumably facilitate note-reading. For example, F# is written as Ab (not G#).

11 Peter Sculthorpe, Sun Music: Journey’s and Reflections from a Composer’s Life (Adelaide:

Griffin Press, 1999), 256.

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for his wife but to Dr. Papper himself, whose persistent cajoling finally convinced the

reluctant composer to accept the commission. Furthermore, what ultimately convinced

the composer was the sincerity and ardor of Dr. Papper in expressing his love for his

wife.12

These qualities have interesting repercussion for our hermeneutic of Tropic with

regard to the environment. It is as if the environment is now come alive in this rebirth to

speak to us, to woo us back into a loving, harmonious relationship, back towards the lost

innocence of indigenous cultures and their respect for the land.

4-5. The “Estatico” Melody

Harmonization

With the melody of the “Estatico” section, Sculthorpe largely abandons his love of the

semitone, in order to mold a consonant accompaniment to fit with the melody’s

pentatonic nature. As seen in Ex.4-7, the melody is built on the D major pentatonic

collection {D, E, F#, A, B}, although the accompaniment is not limited to these pitches.

The accompaniment modifies our perception of the melody, particularly in terms of

consonance and dissonance. For instance, the A-centric chord at m.115 causes the F# to

be heard as an embellishment to E, the reverse to what would likely have been heard

without the accompaniment.

The pattern of sonorities in the accompaniment are quite similar to those used in

the setting of the “Torres Strait Dance-Song” in Nourlangie, pointing towards the

development of a syntax for the setting of pentatonic melodies in Sculthorpe’s work. In

Tropic, the accompanying harmonies are gloriously ambiguous in their tonal

implications. In the guitar ostinati, we hear the cyclic recurrence of three principal

12 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 253-54.

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sonorities which I shall call X, Y, and Z--being the pitch sets X = {E, G, A}, Y = {C#, D,

F#} and Z = {B, D, E}. Aurally, they could be conceived as A-centric, D-centric, and E-

centric, respectively. The centricity of sonorities X and Z is arguably created by the

ascending perfect fourth--a gesture that, to Western ears at least, has substantial

tonicizing power. With sonority Y, the tonicizing power of the ascending perfect fourth is

negated and superceded by that of the semitone from C# to D. Of these three sonorities,

only sonority Y has a strong third so as to convey an aural impression of tertian harmony.

Although, there is a hint of a third in sonority Z, with the fleeting appearance of G natural

in the second guitar (e.g.. m.121). Sonorities X and Z are perhaps best conceived as

quartal, particularly when one considers other pitches that make some appearance.

Sonority X is accompanied by the pitch D in the melody and second guitar part, forming a

quartal set-class [0257] and sonority Z is accompanied by the pitch A, also forming a

quartal set-class [0257].

But in this succession of pitch centers (A, D, and E), what is the underlying,

organizing tonal center? Is this a progression of I-IV-V in A or V-I-II in D (without

meaning to imply tertian harmonies)? This confusion between alternate possible tonal

centers of gravity is enhanced by the cyclic repetition of these sonorities. It is perhaps

better to say that we need not hear this passage in any particular “key” at all. On the

other hand, the points of structural juncture cause the A-centric sonority to operate as a

type of “home” sonority. For this is the tonal center where the melody begins, repeats,

and ends.

In the return of the “Estatico” section, however, this apparent harmonic ambiguity

is resolved in an unexpected way. The accompanying harmonies are changed, as seen in

Ex.4-8. Even though the repeating patterns in the first guitar part remain the same, their

tonal implications are modified by the fuller chords of the second guitar part. Now our

succession of sonorities implies the progression I-V-ii in D (over a tonic drone). As we

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shall see, the consolidation of D major tonality has important implications for the larger

tonal structure of the work.

Structure

Within the “Estatico” section, the music develops through the use of theme and variations

technique. After a simple eight-bar statement (violin, mm.115-22), the theme (which is

already modified from its indigenous source) is further developed in two subsequent

variations at mm.123-30 and 131-38 (see Ex.4-9). The first variation contains subtle

rhythmic modifications but preserves the essential motivic gestures of the melody. The

second is a more radical metamorphosis but also preserves key motivic gestures.

The theme and its two variations are then repeated with the addition of a new

countermelody in the clarinet that employs motives from the “Lontano” melody. The

counter melody (mm.141-48) is repeated identically over the first variation (mm.149-56)

but a different countermelody accompanies the second variation (mm.157-64). All of this

music was inspired by the spirit of the original Torres Strait melody, but filtered and

developed by the composer to make it his own.

Phase Techniques

Below these melodic variations are some quite interesting rhythmic procedures. These

are particularly complex in the final “Estatico” section (mm.199-225). Throughout much

of his oeuvre, Sculthorpe delights in using cross-metric effects such as these, created by

repeating rhythmic patterns whose duration interacts with the prevailing meter, coming in

and out of phase. Such effects could also be called isorhythm in that the underlying

meter provides a talea and the repeated pattern of pitches constitutes a color. Sculthorpe

has a great predilection for rhythmic counterpoint and phase techniques in much of his

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music, especially in sections with ritualistic characteristics. These techniques in

Sculthorpe’s music stem from his interest in Balinese gamelan.13

In the “Estatico” section, mm.199-225, Sculthorpe utilizes phase techniques on

multiple levels, at the level of the quarter-note beat, but also at the level of the full

measure (see Ex.4-8). The guitar line at m.199ff consists of a continuously repeating

three-note cell on the pitches A, G, and E. The first note, A, coincides with the first

quarter-note beat. It is also a downbeat, constituting the beginning of the measure. On

the second quarter-note beat, the cell becomes out of phase by one note, accenting the G.

By the third beat, the accent is on E, and by the fourth beat the accent is again on A. But

the fourth beat of the bar is not as strong an accent as the first beat. The downbeat of bar

one coincides with A, the downbeat of bar two with G, and the downbeat of bar three

with E. Thus the repeating three-note cell would only come completely into phase after

three measures. At the point where the listener anticipates this coming into phase, the

composer changes the pitches of the repeating pattern and beginning the process all over

again. The process occurs three times but on the last time, the composer truncates the

pattern to two bars such that he can create an eight-bar section of music to fit with the

eight-bar pentatonic melody. The accompaniment, complete with cross-metric effects,

repeats for the following two variations of the pentatonic melody.

Similar cross-metric effects occur in this section of music in other instruments,

occurring in parallel with the first guitar line. For example, the double-bass line has a

three-note pattern of eighth notes, separated by eighth note rests. Again, it takes three

full measures for the pattern to come into phase again. In this case, Sculthorpe simply

13 The composer acknowledges openly that Balinese music is the source of inspiration for these phase techniques occurring with repeating three-note ostinati. See, for instance, Andrew Ford, “As Simple As That: Peter Sculthorpe,” In Composer to Composer: Conversations About Contemporary Music (Great Britain: Quarter Books, 1993), 43, where he discusses the influence of Indonesian ostinati patterns in general, and then specifically with reference to rice-pounding patterns in String Quarter No 8. In phone conversations with the present author, Sculthorpe admitted the same influence in the use of repeating ostinati in Nourlangie and Tropic, and indicating that these days writing such ostinati has become so second-nature that he has to deliberately stop himself from writing them.

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keeps repeating the pattern, allowing it to come into phase every three measures (but also

truncating it on the third time to fit into the larger eight-bar group).

The cross-metric effects occurring in the percussion part in these measures

(mm.199ff) introduce further complexity (see Ex.4-8). On one level, the pattern of the

bongos mirrors that of the first guitar, creating a pattern that takes three measures to

completely come into phase with the bar-line. And like the guitar part, the pattern comes

into phase with the quarter-note beat every three quarter-notes. However, closer

observation reveals a subtle micro-polyrhythm between the guitar and bongos. Within

the three quarter-note unit, the guitar part is divided in four sub-units while the bongo is

divided into two. Furthermore, each sub-unit of the bongo has a natural division into

three. For every six sixteenth-notes then, the guitar plays two groups of three while the

bongo plays three groups of two. A subtle two against three pattern is thus created

between the guitar and bongo.

Given both the harmonic stasis and the prominent recurrence of note patterns

every three beats, it would seem that the establishment of four-four meter rests solely on

the melodic clarinet and violin parts. One might be tempted to ask how little perceptual

input is necessary before a listener forfeits the reigning meter? Actually, this question

rests on the mistaken assumption that the patterns of motivic phasing will supercede the

impression of meter. To perform the music in this way would be wrong.. Indeed, in

phone conversations with the present author, Sculthorpe complained that this was one of

the most common mistakes that instrumentalists make in performing his music. In

writing the passages in four-four meter, he clearly desires that the music sound in that

meter. It is up to the performer to accentuate the strong beats appropriately such that the

proper meter is heard. The phasing patterns are written into the music (using different

notes, or bongo drums) and will emerge naturally with no extra “help” on the part of the

performer. This method of performance allows the polyrhythms created by the

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cross-metric effects to become a musical feature, rather than hiding them by allowing the

cross-metric pattern to usurp the role of a metric pattern.

Having said this, the sheer complexity of these does have the potential to create

aural confusion for the listener. They have a rather mesmerizing, hypnotic effect that

seems very appropriate to the musical descriptor “estatico.”

Suggested Hermeneutic

The word “estatico” itself, Italian for ecstatic, is rich in meaning. Ritualistic in

connotation, it implies an unrestrained joy--joy that has reached such a feverish level that

a trance-like state is achieved. The Kakadu-period works display a marked shift in

Sculthorpe’s approach to the landscape. Early works such as the Irkanda series explored

the loneliness of the European Figure in the Australian landscape, whilst others such as

the Sun Music series explored the harshness of the outback itself. But here, man has

made peace with the nature and learnt to appreciate it after the fashion of indigenous

culture. As stated in the hermeneutic of the “Dr. Papper Theme,” the environment

attempts to seduce. And in this section, the “Estatico,” we see that this wooing has born

fruit. The land is no longer something simply to be feared and respected but also loved--

with such ardent fervor! This musical journey reflects Sculthorpe’s shifting attitude

towards the landscape, as seen across his musical oeuvre. No longer experiencing the

loneliness and harshness of the Australian bush, Sculthorpe now sees its true inner

beauty. He writes in the program note Tropic that the piece concerns his “most-favored

part of this earth.”14 This transformation reminds me of a plaque I once read in a national

park in Albany, Western Australia, which contrasted the attitudes of early Dutch, English,

and French explorers with those of most modern Australians. Many of the early

explorers described Australia as harsh, ugly, unforgiving. But those that have lived on

14 Composer’s note to Tropic (London: Faber Music Ltd., 1992).

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the continent for a longer period of time have come to appreciate its mysterious depths

and inner beauty.

As stated previously, the rich tapestry of cross-metric effects in this section has

mesmerizing, hypnotic effect that seems very appropriate to the musical descriptor

“estatico.” This undoubtedly contributes to the melodies sense of timelessness, as if

floating in an altered state of consciousness. The ambiguity of tonal center in the first

“estatico,” with cyclically recurring sonorities, contributes to this sense of timelessness,

in a way that resembles the effects achieved by American minimalist music by composers

such as Steve Reich or Philip Glass.

The “Estatico” section has also been associated with water. For instance, the

melody of the “Estatico” section appears in another work entitled Island Dreaming (for

mezzo-soprano and string quartet). Similarly, the use of seagull sound-effects in the

double-bass has the evocation of islands and the ocean--an integral part of Sculthorpe’s

“most-favored part of the earth.” Arguably, Sculthorpe relies on seagull sounds because

long ago he found a way to incorporate them into the musical texture without disrupting

musical flow--in contrast to the more realistic, and disruptive bird sounds in Nourlangie

(although gentler seagull sounds also occur in Nourlangie). Unlike the episodes of avant-

garde noise effects in Nourlangie, the seagull sounds in Tropic are peaceful. The

association of the ocean with peacefulness is also justifiable. Although the Northern

Territory more correctly borders on the Arafura Sea, the association of ocean with the

Pacific Ocean (specifically) is not too far-fetched for a long-term resident of the east

coast of Australia (the composer). Sculthorpe writes in his autobiography, “it’s

significant to me and to my music that the word pacific [as in Pacific Ocean] means

peaceful, serene.”15 Seagull sounds in Sculthorpe’s music are arguably evocative of the

ocean, ultimately symbolizing serenity.

15 Sculthorpe, Sun Music, 229.

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4-6. The Larger Form in Perspective

Tropic is typical of many of Sculthorpe’s works in being composed in distinct blocks of

material, resulting in a simple sectional musical form. It is essentially comprised of

cyclic repetitions of its three principle sections, “Lontano,” “Molto Sostenuto,” and

“Estatico,” as seen in Table 4-3. The principle of return is thus extended towards all

three thematic sections.

Table 4-3. A Short Formal Outline of Tropic (SCs = “set-classes”)

Section Mm. Tonality or Tonal Centricity A “Lontano” mm.1-12 F#-F bitonality B “Molto Sostenuto” mm.13-92 A-aeolian, some A-centric in-derived SCs (+ a passage of C-centric in-derived SCs) A’ “Lontano” mm.93-112 F#-F bitonality C “Estatico” mm.113-66 A or D centricity (ambiguity) B’ “Molto Sostenuto” mm.167-96 D aeolian, some D-centric In SCs C’ “Estatico” mm.197-225 D major! D = (A+B+C) mm.226-41 d minor to D major

Musical junctures are emphasized by tam-tam rolls and other percussion sounds, a

type of structural punctuation which stems from Indonesian music.16 Similarly, junctures

are sometimes highlighted by sudden tonal shifts that can be quite jarring. For example,

m.13 has a sudden shift from F# major/F major to A-aeolian, m.55 has a sudden shift

from A-aeolian to C-centric in-derived set-classes, and m.113 has a sudden shift from F#

major/F major to A major/D major.

The emergent supremacy of D major at the end of the work is perhaps significant,

since the piece begins with F#-F major bitonal confusion. The later part of the piece also

alternates between d minor and D major. Similarly, the tonal ambiguity of the first

16 Hannan, Peter Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas, 68. This theme is developed throughout

Hannan’s book. See “punctuation” in the index p.232 for multiple references, and “colotomic structure” in the glossary, p.224.

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“Estatico” section is resolved in its final recurrence, through the addition of the second

guitar part’s chords, which radically alters the perception of harmonies so that D major is

the clear tonal center. Thus, some sort of tonal resolution is achieved in this work’s odd

narrative tonal form. This narrative tonal form mirrors the programmatic progression of

themes from conflict to dreaming, and from yearning to ecstatic joy (with some cyclic

repetition).

The ending of the work is joyful yet inconclusive. Unlike a Beethoven

symphonic climax, the music arguably strives towards a point of spiritual enlightenment

outside of linear time. The piece comes to an end, but the music continues on, as if

beyond human perception. It is as if the piece strives to portray the timelessness of

nature, in comparison to man’s short and comparatively insignificant life span on this

earth. Man dies, but the landscape remains.

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CHAPTER 5: From Kakadu

5-1. The Heredity of a Guitar Solo

The title of this work, and the composer’s program notes, seem to imply that musical

material is extracted out of Sculthorpe’s successful orchestral work, Kakadu (1988) (as

hinted previously in chapter 2, page 61). While it is definitely true that both works share

the use of the “Elcho Island Lament,” in actuality the true source of the setting of this

melody in From Kakadu is The Visions of Captain Quiros (despite the composer’s calling

the tune the “Kakadu melody”). In fact, the settings in Kakadu and From Kakadu are

quite different, involving very different instrumentation and harmonization of the tune.

In Kakadu, the theme appears at the opening in the strings where it begins on C and is

tonally centric on C (Ex.5-1).1 On the other hand, in both From Kakadu and The Visions

of Captain Quiros, the solo guitar is used. Furthermore, the theme begins on E but is

tonally centric on A (see Ex.5-4). Essentially, Sculthorpe extracted several sections of

the guitar part of “Part I: First Vision” from his withdrawn guitar concerto and reworked

them into the first movement, “Grave,” of From Kakadu. The precise corollaries

between the two were outlined previously in chapter three, Table 3-3 (page 112). They

are listed again below in Table 5-1, from the point of view of From Kakadu.

It is also interesting to compare the programmatic settings of the “Lament” in

each of these two pieces and consider how this potentially alters our perception of the

theme. Quiros was a Portuguese explorer and religious fanatic of the late sixteenth

century who was obsessed with finding the great southern continent. The program of

From Kakadu, on the other hand, is concerned with the landscape of Kakadu National

1 This centricity in Kakadu is created by the constant return of C in the melodic line. The Db in

the oboe is a actually a verticalized neighbor tone to C (something which Sculthorpe loves to do), echoing the motion C-Db-C in the melodic line. In From Kakadu, on the other hand, the point of tonal focus of the melody (now E) is reinterpreted as a fifth above the tonic, due to the existence of the underlying A pedal.

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Park and “the deep contentment” that the composer feels with regard to this place.2 By

keeping in mind both the mystic wonder of Quiros’s visions and the composer’s deep

contentment with regard to Kakadu, the performer can arguably achieve a deeper

understanding of the emotional content of the melody--knowledge which can empower a

more confident and expressive performance.

Table 5-1. The Use of Musical Material from The Visions of Captain Quiros in From

Kakadu From Kakadu, "Grave" mm. Quiro (Part I), mm Description 1-12 3-14 “”Elcho Island “Lament””” 13-14 from 15-20 -- 15-16 21-22 “Sixths” motive (transition) 17-28 23-34 “”Elcho Island “Lament””” 31-32 21-22 “Sixths” motive (transition) 33-36 43-44 “Woolharra” chord 37-44 47-56 (same harmonies only) “6ths” motive elaborated 37-44 361-68 (identical) “6ths” motive elaborated (from Part IV: Second Vision)

The fourth movement of From Kakadu also employs a melody previously used in

Sculthorpe’s work Songs of Sea and Sky (1991), for clarinet and piano. This melody, the

principal theme of the “Cantando,” is based on a traditional tune from the island of Saibai

in the Torres Strait collected by Jeremy Beckett in the 1960s.3 The version used in From

Kakadu is considerably lengthened in comparison to that of Songs of Sea and Sky (see

Ex.5-2), and departs further from the original indigenous melody (seen in Ex.5-3). It has

also been changed from six-eight to nine-eight meter, and the level of syncopation is

2 Composer’s note in Sculthorpe, From Kakadu and Into the Dreaming (London: Faber Music

Ltd., 1994). 3 The source of this melody was Traditional Music of Torres Strait [sound recording], compiled

by Jeremy Beckett; musical analysis and transcriptions by Trevor A. Jones (Canberra: Australian Institute of Aboriginal Studies, 1981). This item is seen in the library of the University of Sydney where Sculthorpe taught.

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increased, giving it a meandering, floating quality. The melody displays some interesting

properties, being based on a curious and unusual pentatonic set--the pitches D, F#, G, A,

C# (in From Kakadu). For the most part, the melody sounds like an elaboration of a

tonic D major triad. It maintains an improvisational quality akin to indigenous Torres

Strait Island music. Such peculiar pentatonic scales are known in this region of South-

East Asia, and even appear in some Balinese music.4 The true brilliance of Sculthorpe’s

use of this melody, however, is how he has integrated it into the musical fabric of the

piece (as we shall see).

5-2. Assimilating the “Lament”: Symmetry and the In-scale

Chapter one outlined the heredity of the “Elcho Island Lament” in Sculthorpe’s oeuvre.

The indigenous melody that he heard from a tribal elder of Elcho Island (and first used in

the film Manganinnie (1980)) closely resembled motives used in the vocal line of his

earlier work Song of Tailitnama (1974). Sculthorpe also extended the original tune to

give it symmetrical qualities that are a hallmark of his music. A close examination of the

“Lament” shows that the longer melody is built up of repetitions and transpositions of a

two bar unit (mm.1-2), as outlined in Table 5-2 and Ex.5-4. Motive x in the table below,

consists of simply the upper neighbor motion E-F-E (and not the D that follows).

Sculthorpe extended the original version of the “Elcho Island Lament” by adding

mm.11-14. The patterns of transposition of motive x make clear the formal symmetry

this creates. The first four measures consist of two statements of x, and mm.7-10 are a

variant. Mm.5-6 consist of x transposed down a perfect fourth, while mm.11-14 contain

two statements of x transposed up a perfect fourth. These two transpositions are

symmetrically balanced about the prime (untransposed) form of x.

4 This scale, on the pitches C#, D, E, G#, A appears in Colin McPhee, Music in Bali: A Study in

Form and Instrumental Organization in Balinese Orchestral Music (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1966), 46-47.

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Table 5-2. Repetitions and Transpositions of motive x (E-F-E).

(T5 is a transposition up five semitones, T-5 is a transposition down five semitones.) ------------------------------------------------------- Mm. Description ------------------------------------------------------- 1-2 x 3-4 x 5-6 T

-5(x)

7-8 x 9-10 x’ 11-12 T

5(x)

13-14 T5(x)

-------------------------------------------------------

The elegance of Sculthorpe’s setting is revealed in the unity between foreground

and middleground. The fundamentally quartal form symmetry is precisely mirrored by

the quartal content and symmetry of the opening sonority, the chord E-A-B (compare

Ex.5-5a and Ex.5-5b).

Sculthorpe’s use of the “Elcho Island Lament” closely allies it with the in-scale,

particularly in the chosen accompanying harmonies. Indeed, before his annexation of the

“Elcho Island Lament,” Sculthorpe had already begun to show a delight in the use of this

collection.5 His quotation and use of the “Lament” was probably at least partly motivated

by its latent potential for adoption into such a harmonic environment. The melody

contained two prominent semitones--Sculthorpe’s most beloved interval. Together these

two semitones, on the pitches E-F and B-C, form the melodic set-class [0156], a subset of

the in-scale (a fuller explanation follows).

In harmonizing the “Elcho Island Lament,” Sculthorpe continues to use in-

derived set-classes. The first full statement of Sculthorpe’s version of the “Elcho Island

Lament,” mm.1-14 (Ex.5-4) shows five different sonorities: A=[027], B=[0157],

5 I use the terms scale and collection loosely here. Strictly speaking “scale” often implies a clear tonal center, while “collection” does not. Sculthorpe’s use of insen here is more as a source collection than a scale.

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C=[0156], D=[01568], and E=[0167]. Sonorities A, B, and C are subsets of the in

collection {E, F, A, B, C}. Sonority B, or [0157] is one of Sculthorpe’s most loved

chords, and appears prominently in all the guitar works receiving special analytical

attention in this study (Visions of Captain Quiros, Nourlangie, Tropic, From Kakadu, and

Into the Dreaming). Sonority “D” is a full but different in collection, {A, Bb, D, E, F}.

Sculthorpe also demonstrates a marked preference for symmetrical (invariant)

sonorities such as [027], [0156], [0167]. This symmetry is evident when one examines

the interval segment (a sequentially ordered set of unordered pitch-class intervals): [027]

is <5, 5>, [0156] is <1, 4, 1>, and [0167] is <1, 5, 1>. Even [0157] can be conceived of

as a symmetrical [027] where the central pitch is elaborated by a verticalized upper

neighbor motion of a semitone (see Ex.5-5a).

Moreover, all these sonorities could be considered quartal--that is, of the type that

admits the occasional tritone.6 Stacked in fifths, the [027] is {A, E, B}, the [0157] is {A,

E, B, F}, the [0156] is {E, B, F, C}, and the [01568] is {D, A, E, Bb, F} and the [0167] is

{A, Eb, Bb, E} (where E equals Fbb).

If we examine the interaction of these sonorities with the melody itself, we find

that the notes belonging to motive x are of the most structural importance. The core

structural pitches are the quartal arrangement described above--E (mm.1-4, 7-8), B

(mm.5-6) and A (mm.11-12). Their upper semitone auxiliaries are each verticalized in

turn. The F (upper semitone auxiliary to E) attains a more significant status due to its

incorporation into the chord of the second measure. Essentially, the [0157] sonority

results from the verticalization of the neighbor note F, elevated to the status of a chordal

dissonance. In this way, it attains greater structural weight, and can be seen to belong to

6 The possibility that quartal/quintal chords can contain the occasional tritone is outlined in Bruce

Benward and Gary White, Music in Theory and Practice, 4th ed. Vol.2 (Dubuque, IA: Wim. C. Brown Publishers, 1990), 239. They distinguish between “consonant” and “dissonant” quartal/quintal chords, the latter type being those that “contain one or more A4ths (or d5ths).” While this interpretation is not widely followed, it makes a lot of sense.

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the predominant in collection, {E, F, A, B, C}. Similarly, in the next line (m.5), where

motive x is transposed down a fourth, the C becomes part of the chord, forming a [0156]

set-class which is also a subset of the in collection, {E, F, A, B,C}. The same thing

happens in mm.11-12, where the Bb is verticalized but here it forms the different in

collection {A, Bb, D, E, F}. The pattern that emerges is based on the structural pitches E

(and its subsidiary F), B (and its subsidiary C), and A (and its subsidiary Bb). All other

pitches in the melody are of less importance still, as seen in the fact that they are not

preserved in each transposition of the basic two-bar unit (hence we don’t include the D in

motive x).

Having arrived at these conclusions, we discover that the structural pitches of the

melody create two interlocking [0156] set-classes. These two [0156] sets, {F, E, C, B}

and {E, F, A, Bb}, are not only symmetrical within themselves, but also symmetrical

about the dyad E-F (see Ex.5-6). The set-class [0156] is absolutely pivotal to this

movement, used both harmonically and melodically. It also becomes the final chord at

the conclusion of the movement, where its sense of ‘rightness’ testifies to its significance.

5-3. The “6ths” Motive, the “Woolharra” Music, and Sonic Unity in the “Grave”

The “6ths” motive is one that is already familiar to us from its use in The Visions of

Captain Quiros, where its clear octatonic content at the outset of the piece prepares the

way for the extensive use of octatonicism. However, several uses of this motive in

Quiros are not octatonic but hexatonic (based on a scale of alternating interval-classes

one and three, just as the octatonic scale is formed from alternating interval classes one

and two). In From Kakadu, Sculthorpe chose to make use of the hexatonic rather than

octatonic versions of this motive.

The “6ths” motive appears as a short tail or bridge between repetitions of the

“Elcho Island Lament”--mm.15-16, and 31-32. It is also extended into a short codetta

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from mm.37-44. It is characterized by a series of [08] dyads (augmented fifths or minor

sixths) over two open-string drones (E and A)--hence the name I give it. The use of

open-string drones is comparable to many similar passages in Villa-Lobos where the

music is driven primarily by left-hand shifts in conjunction with open-string pedals. The

hexatonic nature of the motive at mm.15-16 is seen when we disregard the open-string

drones (see Ex.5-7a and compare it with the actual music in Ex.5-4). The basis of the

codetta in this motive is not evident at first sight. The three core dyads, A-F, F-C#, and

D-Bb are still at the structural core, but are elaborated by chromatic neighboring dyads in

overlapping layers. This is shown in the reduction in Ex.5-7b (the actual music is given

in Ex.5-8).

One other interesting feature that stems from Quiros, is the appearance of the

“Woolharra” chord, a trademark Sculthorpe sonority being the set-class [0145], at

mm.33-36.7 In actuality, Sculthorpe uses the pentachord [01457] that contains [0145]

(and also [0157], the favored chord of Sculthorpe’s later years). Whereas in Quiros the

chord [01457] is simply stated, in From Kakadu Sculthorpe uses it in alternation with set-

class [0148]. The association of [0148] with the “Woolharra chord” can be traced back to

Sculthorpe’s Sonatina (1954), where both chords appear in alternation at the opening of

the work (see Ex.5-9). [0145] and [0148] are closely related sonorities, both containing

trichordal subsets [014] and [015].

Sonic unity in this movement is arguably accomplished through the careful

control of set-class content. The role of in-derived sets has already been stressed. The

addition of the “Woolharra” music introduces the foreign element of trichordal subset

[014], although it also includes the trichord [015]. [015] has a strong unifying role in the

movement, as has the set-class [0157]--my nomination for the title “Sculthorpe” chord.

The prevalence of [0157] is obvious from the content of Table 5-3. Moreover, [0157]

7 See Deborah Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press,

1993), 15. For a fuller discussion and list of references refer to chapter 1, footnote 88.

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contains most of the trichordal set-classes prevalent in this movement: [015], [016],

[027], and [026] (excepting [014]).

Table 5-3 lists the vertical sonorities used in the movement, outlining their

prevalence and their trichordal subsets. That trichordal set-class [015] has a significant

unifying role is powerfully demonstrated in that it appears in every sonority listed except

[0167] and [0268]. It also occurs frequently on its own (such as mm.15, 31, 37, 38, 42,

and 45-47). Moreover, Sculthorpe’s modifies the “6ths” motive in the codetta section

across mm.37-42 such that it not only contains the drones E and A, but also F. This

creates an underlying [015] pitch set across this section. The use of [015] continues as a

subset of [0157] in mm.43-44. The movement also ends with a return to [0156] and then

[015] in mm.45-47. As stated previously, its sense of “rightness” at the end of the

movement testifies to its significance.

In addition, Table 5-3 illuminates further Sculthorpe’s preference for symmetrical

(invariant) set-classes. [0156], and [0167] were mentioned previously, but now we can

add [0145] and [0268] to this list.

Table 5-3. Vertical Sonorities in the “Grave:” Their Prevalence and Trichordal Subsets.

(* = times) Mm. SC Trichordal subsets 1-4, 7-10, 17-20, 23-26, 39, 41, 43-44 [0157] [015], [016], [027], [026] 5-6, 21-22 [0156] [015]*2, [016]*2 11-12 [01568] [013], [015], [016]*2, [026], [027], [037]*2 13-14 [0167] [016]*4 33, 35, 40 [0145] [014]*2, [015]*2, (33, 35) [01457] [013], [014]*2, [015}82, [016], [026], [027], [036], [037] 34, 36, 37, 38 [0148] [014], [015], [037], [048] 39, 40 [0268] [026]*4

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5-4. Motivic Unity

From Kakadu displays a duality between (1) the intensity of the first and third

movements with (2) the rapturous contentment of the second and fourth movements.

These two affects, intensity and contentment, are used in alternation across the work.

Programmatically, this relates to the dual character of nature, and particularly Kakadu

National Park.8 The motivic links between each pair of effectively connected movements

are outlined below. This is followed by an investigation of some less obvious motivic

correspondences.

Intensity: The “Grave” and the “Misterioso”

The close relationship of the music of the third movement, “Misterioso,” (mm. 101-122)

with the music of the first movement, “Grave,” is obvious. The “Misterioso” clearly

picks up on the basic motivic unit of the first two measures of the “Grave.” What may

not be quite so obvious is the extent to which this basic motivic unit perpetrates every

aspect of the structure of the “Misterioso”, becoming the basis for variations growing

through Sculthorpe’s characteristic technique of accretion.

The motive from the “Lament” on the pitches E-F-E-D is transposed down a

major second, forming the pitches D-Eb-D-C and organized such that the music is now

tonally centered on D (not G, as might have been expected due to the fact that the

“Grave” is centered on A). Sculthorpe extracts the melodically symmetrical portion of

the motive--the palindrome D-Eb-D--and superimposes it on an inversion of itself (Bb-A-

Bb), thereby creating a vertical symmetry as well. The resulting two-voice counterpoint

consists of the dyad Bb-D followed by A-Eb and then Bb-D, forming the pattern of

intervals major third--tritone--major third. This two-voice counterpoint forms the

8 For instance, see the composer's note to Nourlangie on page 71 of this text.

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back-bone of the movement, seen four times across mm.105-116. Each appearance

grows in complexity through accretion in characteristic ‘Sculthorpian’ fashion (see

Ex.5-10).

The head and tail of the movement (mm. 101-104 and mm. 117-121) can also be

related to this two-voice counterpoint. The dyad Eb-A is prolonged over mm.101-104

(but now inverted so that A is on top) and the dyad Bb-D is prolonged (with elaboration)

over mm.117-121. Thus the motion from the dyad A-Eb to Bb-D--the final motion of the

doubly symmetrical counterpoint--frames the entire movement.

Rapturous Contentment: The “Comodo” and the “Cantando”

The second movement, “Comodo,” comprises essentially new musical material not seen

in previous works. It develops according to Sculthorpe’s unique idiomatic technique, the

process of “growth through accretion.” A superficial hearing of the fourth movement,

“Cantando,” is enough to determine that it is clearly linked to the “Comodo.” Both

present a more conventional tonal environment that will be shown to function as D major

at a more middleground level, despite the static, repetitive nature of the musical surface.

It is also clear that the music of the “Comodo” returns in the center of the fourth

movement (in slightly varied form), at mm.137-146. However, the true brilliance of the

fourth movement is revealed in the way that the “Cantando” melody is superimposed

over a version of the “Comodo” music, which is placed in a middle voice. This is no

mean compositional feat, considering that the “Cantando” melody is of indigenous origin.

The “Cantando” theme therefore functions like an ornamental descant above the

“Comodo” music (compare Ex.5-11 and Ex.5-12).

Familial Resemblances

At first glance, the second and fourth movements clearly provide contrast to the first and

third movements, sharing no obvious motivic relationship. However, a closer inspection

reveals that the four-note motive E-F-E-D, from the “Elcho Island Lament,” is

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200

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fundamental to all four movements. Ex.5-13 illustrates these familial resemblances

between each movement.

From Kakadu therefore displays a remarkable degree of motivic unity. M.1 in the

“Grave” can be compared, for instance, with the treble in m.49 (second movement), the

bass in m.73 (second movement), the alto in m.123 (fourth movement), the top line in

m.135 (fourth movement), and the top line in m.137 (fourth movement). All these

instances share the upper neighbor motion.

In the opening of the second movement, “Comodo,” the neighbor motion

(originally a semitone) is modified to become a major second so as to fit in with the

tonality of D major. The central episode of this movement moves to b minor, and it is

here that the motive returns to the minor second, as seen in the bass at m.73 (the notes B-

C). This motive B-C also appears in this episode at a deeper level. Mm.73-80 are

centered on B in the bass, whereas mm.81-86 are centered on C in the bass, forming a

larger B-C motion spanning fourteen measures. Similarly, mm.135-36 are anomalous in

the tonal environment of the fourth movement, presenting a return to the minor second

neighbor motion, as seen in the "Grave."

In short, Sculthorpe has manipulated the motives of the "Lament" with consumate

skill, producing music of markedly varying moods. These differing characters represent

the different faces of Kakadu itself. United, yet multifaceted in nature, the music

perfectly reflects the varied nature of the program.

5-5. Repetition and Variation as Process

Sculthorpe's distinct technique of building entire movements out of the repetition of small

cells has been coined "growth by accretion."9 ‘Sculthorpian’ growth by accretion is

9 According to Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography, 17, this term was coined by Wilfred

Mellers, "New Worlds, Old Wildernesses: Peter Sculthorpe and the ecology of music," The Atlantic 268/2 (Aug 1991): 95. See also chapter one, footnote 29.

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closely related to developmental processes in some minimalist music, and has been

linked to the peculiar quality of the Australian landscape described by Hannan as

“spaciousness and terrifying sameness.”10 It is essentially a method of metamorphosis, or

gradually increasing complexity, through incremental variation, addition, or subtraction.

Characteristically, the development occurs in stages. Each successive step is repeated

before the music proceeds to the next level of variation.

The second movement (the movement with the least basis in indigenous melody)

is archetypal of these processes. As Ex.5-11 shows, the music proceeds in one-bar spans

that are each repeated once. While harmonic changes occur every two bars, melodic

changes occur every four bars. Melodically, a one bar pattern is repeated three more

times before proceeding to the next stage of development. Although, to be more precise,

the final repetition of each four-bar span is actually slightly modified--as if to smooth the

transition to the next four-bar span. The third movement (shown in Ex.5-10) shows

similar processes of “growth by accretion.”

Unity in these movements is enhanced by rhythmic patterning. Sculthorpe

establishes a rhythmic “feel” that provides broad-scale homogeneity.11 In this particular

example, the “Comodo” section has a skeletal rhythmic grouping of 3-2-2-2 and

sometimes 2-3-2-2 (in multiples of eighth-notes) which provides a syncopated feel

against the 3-3-3 organization of the underlying nine-eight meter. Unity is also provided

by the homogeneity of texture and color, with repeated use of low drones.

10 Hannan, "Peter Sculthorpe," in Australian Composition in the Twentieth Century ed. Frank

Callaway and David Tunley (Melbourne: Oxford University Press, 1978), 142. Sculthorpe has also made the link between the monotony of the landscape and the slow rate of harmonic change in his music: see Sun Music: Journey’s and Reflections from a Composer’s Life (Adelaide: Griffin Press, 1999), 260.

11 Hannan, "Peter Sculthorpe," in Australian Composition, 137.

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5-6. Repetition and Form

Sculthorpe characteristically uses repetition on a number of levels, along with variation

technique, to enable him to construct satisfying large structures without the use of

classical development procedures.12 Unlike many of his contemporaries, Sculthorpe

makes consistent use of simple returning structures--illustrated by the formal outline

shown in Table 5-4. As I shall briefly explicate, these operate on multiple levels such

that the resulting structure can be quite complex.

First Movement.

The first movement is like a prelude, freely based on motivic material from the “Elcho

Island Lament”. It is essentially monothematic, with two principal statements of its 14-

bar theme. However, an extended codetta (b’) grows out of a short cadential motive

based on the “6ths” motive from The Vision of Captain Quiros.

The section labeled c is in some ways the emotional climax of the movement. As

outlined previously, it is based on the trademark Sculthorpe sonority [0145], sometimes

called the “Woolharra” chord,13 used in alternation with [0148], similar to the usage in

Sculthorpe’s Sonatina (1954). This section is not as anomalous as it might seem,

however. The top voice in these chords actually spells out the neighbor motion E-F-E

(motive x in Table 5-2) that is central to the “Lament” (a in Table 5-4).

Second Movement.

The second movement contains a series of nested palindromes. Endemic to Sculthorpe’s

works, returning structures have been described by the composer as “essential in [his]

12

Hannan, “Peter Sculthorpe,” in Australian Composition, 137. 13

See Deborah Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1993), 15. For a fuller discussion and list of references refer to chapter 1, footnote 88.

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Table 5-4. A Formal Outline of From Kakadu

• Note that measure numbers in the score are cumulative over the entire piece, and when repeat marks are used the measure numbers of repeated passages do not change. In order to show proportions in the music more clearly I have therefore decided to renumber the measures to account for repeats. Both numbering systems are indicated. Additionally, I have included a column which counts the number of bars in each sub-section in order to accentuate proportions more vividly. • Please also note that lettered theme designations are unique to each movement. For instance, theme a in the first movement is not the same as theme a in the second movement.

Movement Motive/Theme Mm. Score Mm. No./Mm. Tonality/Centricity

Grave (A) a 1-14 same 14 A (not A major)

b (cadential) 15-16 “ 2 a’ 17-30 “ 14

b (cadential) 31-32 “ 2 c (cadential) 33-36 “ 4 b’ 37-48 “ 12

Comodo (B) (A) 1st Group a 1-8 49-56 8 D major bridge 9-10 57-58 2 a’ 11-20 59-68 10 (B) 2nd Group into 21-24 69-72 4 b1 25-32 73-80 8 b2 33-38 81-86 6 codetta 39-42 87-90 4 (A) 1st Group a 43-50 49-56 8 (louder) bridge 51-52 57-58 2 a’ 53-62 59-68 10 (C) Codetta c 63-70 91-96 8 (or 3rd Group) closing 71-74 97-100 4

Misterioso (A’) Introductory x 1-2 101-02 2 hinges on dyad Bb-D x’ 3-4 103-04 2 Theme & Variations a 5-7 105-07 3 a’ 8-10 108-10 3 a’’ 11-13 111-13 3 a’’’ 14-16 114-16 3 Closing y 17-19 117-19 3 y’ 20-22 120-22 3

Cantando (C or B’) a (with b’ in inner voice) 1-12 123-34 12 D major x (bridge) 13-14 135-36 2 b (b = a’ from Comodo ) 15-24 137-46 10 a’ (8ve - ) 25-36 147-58 12 x (bridge) 37-38 159-60 2 a” (without b’, quasi Coda) 39-50 161-72 12 extension 51-54 173-76 4

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music.”14 A broad ternary form (ABA plus coda) is seen across the movement.

Additionally, a ternary structure is seen within the first theme group itself, creating the

combined palindromic structure a-bridge-a-B-a-bridge-a, as seen in Table 5-4.

The principal of formal symmetry displayed in these palindromic structures is

also manifest in a curious way in the central B section (mm.69-90). Here the variation

procedures are not just melodic but also rhythmic. The music develops through processes

of addition and subtraction (additive processes in reverse), as seen in minimalist music.

The relentless nature of the repetition has a strikingly ritualistic quality, as observed in

many of Sculthorpe's works.15 As seen in Ex.5-14 the same chord is used in an additive

process for eight bars (mm.73-80) and then the chord changes and the texture gradually

begins to thin out by subtractive process over six bars (mm.81-86). The harmonic change

thus represents the center of symmetry for the second theme group and, by extension, the

entire movement. This symmetry is also continued by the proportional match of the four-

bar introduction with the four-bar codetta, framing the central material and creating the

palindrome intro-b1-b2-codetta (“Comodo,” 2nd Group, as in Table 5-4).

It is a pity that Sculthorpe didn’t extend the symmetry one level deeper to make

this the center of symmetry for the entire piece. Obviously, the palindromic forms are

not precise. The codetta could possibly be considered a third theme, creating the form

ABAC (rather than ABA) which mirrors the form of the entire piece (ABAC).

Third Movement.

This movement is essentially a set of variations (growing by accretion) on motives of the

“Elcho Island Lament,” but alters the mood of the melody to a brooding “Misterioso.”

14 Hannan and Sculthorpe, "Rites of Passage," Music Now II/22 (Dec 1974): 18. 15 For a description of ritualistic repetition in Sculthorpe see Hannan, "Peter Sculthorpe," in

Australian Composition, 137.

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Fourth Movement.

This movement is fundamentally ternary with an extended coda that constitutes a third

statement of its principal theme. This movement relates closely to the second movement

(as stated previously) in that the “Cantando” melody is a descant to the “Comodo” theme.

The “Comodo” theme also appears in the treble as the second theme of the movement

(“Cantando” theme b in Table 5-4).

The Work as a Whole

As previously mentioned, it might appear unfortunate that the palindromic forms of the

second movement were not extended to the whole work. The form of the entire piece is

actually open-ended. Being ABAC in nature, this form can theoretically be extended ad

infinitum (ABACADAF…). It differs from a typical Rondo in that the principal theme

does not return. Arguably, this lack of completeness is precisely the effect the composer

wanted. The quiet finish of the fourth movement is suggestive of a written out fade-

away--as if the work could continue forever but has simply faded into the distance. There

is, for example, the rambling quasi-codetta in which the melody seems to gradually wind

down in intensity. This is followed by four measures that are based on the rhythms of the

melody and are an extension of it, having the effect of a ‘Schoernbergian’ thematic

liquidation. The final chord itself has curious qualities. Although the lowest pitch is D

(the tonal center), the chord contains unresolved chordal dissonances, perhaps for color--

as in the final chord in certain jazz styles. Furthermore, as the pitches are simply natural

harmonics on the open strings (four open strings at the fifth fret, third overtone) the chord

seems to have more of timbral than tonal effect.

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5-7. The Question of Tonality/Tonal Centricity

Michael Hannan has consistently argued that Sculthorpe has developed his own unique

tonal language wherein harmony and counterpoint no longer function as structural

devices. Certainly, tonal centricity in Sculthorpe’s music is typically established through

repetition and assertion, or through timbral and registral means. His musical language

can range from pieces with quite dissonant sonorities to pieces whose sound-worlds are

quite consonant, being modal, pentatonic, or even functionally tonal. In essence,

Sculthorpe’s music often occupies a gray area between the functionally tonal and the

non-functionally tonal, relishing the ambiguities.

In the first movement, as noted previously, many of the harmonies are derived

from the Japanese in-scale and the set-classes [0157] and [0156] in particular.

Additionally, many of the harmonies could be considered to be quartal. There are few

triadic sonorities and the voice-leading of functional tonality is largely avoided (although

the principal melodic line does seem to favor parsimonious voice-leading; that is, voice-

leading by step). The sense of A being the tonal center is created primarily through its

use as a bass drone. Structural glue is largely provided by the careful control of set-

classes.

The third movement is also quite far removed from functional tonality. The

structural development of this movement has nothing whatsoever to do with tonal

procedures and everything to do with “growth by accretion”, Sculthorpe’s own

minimalist variation procedure. As outlined previously, this movement can be reduced to

a structural skeleton of a two-voice counterpoint, the series of dyads Bb-D to A-Eb to Bb-

D which is submitted to successive diminution.

In contrast to the first and third movement, the second and fourth movements are

much closer to functional tonality in sound. Particularly in the second movement, most

of the sonorities are triadic sky-scrapers, stacking notes in thirds as far as the seventh,

ninth, eleventh and even thirteenth--akin to much Jazz. Indeed the affinities of this

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movement to Jazz also extend further into the rhythmic dimension, in the way that the

movement establishes a persistent rhythmic “feel” or “groove.” But the key question is

whether the tonal voice-leading plays a structural role or not? At the surface the answer

is apparently in the negative. The progression of musical ideas seems more related to

Sculthorpe’s minimalist variation procedures, the so-called “growth by accretion.” The

music appears to follow Hannan’s observations that Sculthorpe’s music often employs

essentially static harmonies, over which the melody winds its way around with neighbor

notes and passing tones.16

Hannan describes two key melodic styles in Sculthorpe’s music, which I

summarize below in Table 5-5.17

Table 5-5. Two Characteristic Melodic Styles

Type Description

1 * based on internal repetition of small structural units * static harmonic basis * tonally simple, rhythmically complex 2 * more spacious

* involves the characteristic semitone motive * like an improvisation on a few tones

The manifestation of the “Elcho Island Lament” in From Kakadu is a clear

example of type two with its spaciousness, its use of relatively few pitches, and its

constant harping on the semitone motive (see Ex.5-4). The “Comodo” theme (Ex.5-11)

is the best example of type one, with its constant motivic repetition of a few principal

tones, its essentially static harmonies, and its rhythmic complexity. One important aspect

of both melodic styles is that they often involve extensive use of neighbor tones, or

16 See, for example, Hannan, Peter Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas , 1929-1979 (St Lucia,

London, New York: University of Queensland Press, 1982), 43. 17 Michael Hannan and Peter Sculthorpe, "Rites of Passage," 15.

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strings of appoggiaturas--that is, dissonant notes that resolve by step, and which often

result from the rhythmic complexities of syncopations and suspensions. Hannan likens

this to a functional harmonic system of Sculthorpe's own making, with little relationship

to classical tonality.18

It is certainly true that at the musical surface, “Comodo” appears to have little

relation to functional tonality. The harmonies appear essentially static and musical

interest develops primarily through the variation procedures. However, it can be shown

that while the harmonies are slow-moving they are not completely static. At a more

background level, functional tonal progressions do exist.

Before these tonal procedures become evident, intensive reduction must be

accomplished, involving detailed analysis of the function of each melodic note. The

decisions as to which notes are chord tones were not simple. My approach to analysis

was to recognize the fundamental differences of this music from much Western tonal

music of the common practice period. For instance, this music treats sevenths and ninths

(and even elevenths) as chord-tones which do not need to be resolved (similar to Jazz).

In contrast, conventional Schenkerian analysis only allows notes of the triad to be chord-

tones, and considers all other notes to be either passing notes or neighbors. In this music,

more remotely tertian chord-tones (such as sevenths and ninths) may themselves

subjected to further melodic elaboration. In making analytical decisions, I gave particular

priority to the bass-line but I also paid attention to the role of rhythmic and metric

placement in creating an impression of harmonic change (elements which are usually

ignored in Schenkerian analysis). This reduction results in a string of tertian

sonorities, each prolonged over several measures. A sample reduction is shown in Ex.5-

15. The complete succession of chords in the second movement is outlined in Table 5-6.

18 Michael Hannan, "Peter Sculthorpe," in Australian Composition, 137.

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Table 5-6. The Underlying Chordal Structure of the Second Movement, “Comodo” (Note that some clumsiness is caused by passages where more than one chord occurs per bar)(subst.” = “substitute”)

Pop Symbol Roman Numeral Mm. Score Mm. No. of Mm.

DMaj7

I#7

1-4 49-52 4 Em

11 ii

11, 9, 7 5-6 53-54 2

Em9/G ii

7, 6, 5 7-8 55-56 2

Bm

7/A vi

4, 2 9, 10 57, 58 1 times 2

F#7sus4 #iii

6, 5, 4 9, 10 57, 58 “

D I 9, 10 57, 58 “ ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------D

Maj7 I

#7 11-14 59-62 4

Em11

ii11, 9, 7

15-16 63-64 2 Em

9/G ii

7, 6, 5 17-18 65-66 2

Em7, b5

ii7, b5

19-20 67-68 2 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Bm vi 21-24 69-72 4 B

5 (11, b9) vi (*possibly quartal) 25-32 73-80 8

FMaj7

/C IV4, 3

33, 34…38 81, 82…86 1 times 6 D

7/C I

4, 2 33, 34…38 81, 82…86 1 times 6

GMaj7

IV7

39 87 1 F#sus4 #iii

6, 5, 4 40 88 1

GMaj7

IV7

41 89 1 F#sus4 #iii

6, 5, 4 42 90 1

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Note, mm.43-62 (mm.49-68) are a repeat of mm.1-20 (mm.49-68) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------D I 63-64 91-92 2 A7/D V over tonic pedal 67-70 93-96 4 Em

11/D dominant subst. 71-72 97-98 2

Bm11

/A tonic subst. 73-74 99-100 2 Mm.63-70 (91-96) in more detail, showing passing chords... Bm

7/D vi

6,5 63, 64

D I 63, 64 Em

11 ii over D&A pedal 63, 64

A9/D V

9 (no 7) over tonic pedal 65, 66

D I 65, 66 Em

11 ii over D&A pedal 65, 66

Em11

ii over D&A pedal 67, 68, 69, 70 G

9 IV over D&A pedal 67, 68, 69, 70

A7/D V

7 over tonic pedal 67, 68, 69, 70

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Some clear underlying progressions emerge from this table that clearly relate to

functional tonality. Mm.1-10 are based on the progression I, ii, vi, V, I with #iii used as a

dominant substitute. Mm.11-43 show the underlying progression I, ii, vi, IV, V, I..

Chord vi is prolonged extensively, as is IV which is strengthened by its own dominant

(I=V/V), whilst #iii is again employed as a dominant substitute. We can therefore

conclude that a tonic-dominant axis is seen to operate at some level, even though voice-

leading procedures are not the principal progenitor of the music at the local level.

The tonal implications of the fourth movement, “Cantando,” are even more

immediately evident. The principal melody is unusual in being formed out of a five-note

set on the scale degrees 3, 4, 5, 7, 1. The use of this set has strong tonic-dominant

implications. The melody hinges most strongly on the scale degrees 1, 3, and 5. Thus

the melody is like one elongated arpeggiation of the tonic triad. However, the

introduction of scale degree 4 (simultaneous with scale degree 5) and 7 (simultaneous

with scale degree 5) has implications of the dominant seventh chord--as is seen, for

example, at the end of bar 1 and bar 2 respectively (see Ex.5-12). A case for the

existence of tonic and dominant functions in “Cantando” would thus be reasonable,

although these dominant implications are fleeting in duration, occurring at the most

foreground level.

Precisely because of its triadic nature, this melody is quintessentially static. The

“Cantando” melody, being limited to the five notes described above, is prohibited from

normal voice-leading procedures. For instance, it cannot connect 3^ to 1^ without using

2^. It is thus more like an arpeggiation than a linear progression. In Schenkerian terms,

if a primary descent were to be found, it would have to be in the middle voice. Oddly

enough, voice-leading procedures do appear to operate in the middle voice (which is,

ironically, based on the “Comodo” music), particularly in the descending lines over

mm.129-130 and mm.133-134 (see Ex.5-12).

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CHAPTER 6: Into the Dreaming

6-1. A Background and Overview

Into the Dreaming was written especially for guitarist John Williams, who recorded the

work in 1994 on the disc From Australia [SK 53361]. Although a short piece, of some

six minutes in duration, the quality of the writing is outstanding. The work is an

introspective one, not virtuosic but poignantly expressive. Unlike much other

contemporary music, it avoids superficial effect. The power of the music lies principally

in the beauty of the notes, in the refinement of its quintessentially ‘Sculthorpian’

harmonic and melodic forms. It is the mature product of a composer who has learnt to

accomplish more with less. It is thus minimal in the purest sense of the word.

As outlined in chapter two, this work began life as a cello solo written for the

Australian cellist David Pereira, entitled Cello Dreaming, and later renamed Into the

Dreaming. The composer’s note to Cello Dreaming describes the instigation for this

work:

This short work was written upon a request from Belinda Webster, as part of her Uluru project, a gathering of cello pieces by ten Australian composers. In the International Year of Indigenous Peoples, the project marks the occasion of the tenth anniversary of the returning of Uluru, or Ayers Rock, to its aboriginal owners.

The basic material of my own contribution was inspired by a quiet, solitary walk in the Valley of the Winds at Katajuta, in Uluru National Park. I began writing the music on the day of the death of a very dear friend, Lilian Peart. ‘Cello Dreaming, then, sings in memory of her.1

The first woman referred to, Belinda Webster, is manager and producer of “Tall

Poppies,” a record label devoted to promoting the cause of Australian music and

musicians. The works forming part of Webster’s Uluru project were eventually released

on a compact disc played by David Pereira entitled Uluru (Glebe, NSW: Tall Poppies,

1 Composer’s note to Sculthorpe, Cello Dreaming (London: Faber Music Ltd., 1993).

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2001) [TP 096]. This actually contains twelve (not ten) solo cello pieces by Australian

composers--including Into the Dreaming. Sculthorpe’s piece is also available on two

other discs by Pereira.2

One small discrepancy in the composer’s note is that the International Year of

Indigenous Peoples, 1993, was not actually the ten-year anniversary of the Aboriginal

ownership of Uluru. It was formally “given back” only in 1985, when it was leased back

to the public as a National Park in a cooperative arrangement with Aboriginal

management. Australian composer Sarah Hopkins tells a slightly different version of

events in the program note to her work Reclaiming the Spirit (which was also part of the

Uluru project), stating that she composed the work “following an invitation (from

Belinda Webster) to write a new work to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the renaming

[italics mine] of Uluru.” Formerly known as “Ayer’s Rock,” the name was changed back

to that given it by the original inhabitants.

It appears that very shortly after the composition of this miniature for solo cello,

John Williams suggested that the piece could work wonderfully on the guitar. Sculthorpe

chose to rework the piece, lengthening and expanding it, and thickening the texture in

order to exploit the sonic possibilities of the guitar. The cello version, being shorter and

simpler, is sort of like a prototype for the more expansive guitar work. The cello work

contains only two principal statements of the tune, whereas the guitar version contains

three statements, each more intense than the previous. The guitar version adds bass

drones and thickens the texture with inner voice harmonies. It also contains new material

in an interpolated central section, and an added short coda. Apart from the cello

prototype, Into the Dreaming does not share thematic material with any of Sculthorpe’s

other works, to my knowledge (at least so far).

2 David Pereira, Music for Cello (Glebe, NSW: Tall Poppies, 1993) [TP 136], which consists

entirely of cello works by Sculthorpe. It also appears under the title Cello Dreaming on Pereira’s disc Cello Dreaming (Glebe, NSW: Tall Poppies, 1996) [TP075].

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As indicated above, the expressive character of Into the Dreaming is

programmatic, portraying the profundity of what is perhaps Australia’s most cherished

natural monument: Uluru. This mysterious and famous landmark is a giant red monolith

that rises out of the desert at the geographic and spiritual heart of the Australasian

continent. As the title suggests, the work also relates to the Aboriginal concept of the

dreamtime, a mythological time of creation. In Aboriginal mythology, the origin of a

particular place or landmark is explained with reference to the dreamtime. The spiritual

forces which created the landscape are thought to have a continuing presence. The same

is true of Uluru, whose sacredness to the indigenous owners is such that they now request

visitors not to climb the rock. Concerning the guitar work Into the Dreaming, Sculthorpe

writes a very similar note to that of the cello version:

This work was inspired by a quiet, solitary walk in the Valley of the Winds at Katajuta, in Uluru National Park in central Australia. The piece is in three sections with a short coda, and is dominated throughout by a yearning melody. In writing this music I set out to exploit the resonance of the open strings, the long-held pedal-notes being symbolic of the didjeridu [an Aboriginal instrument consisting of a long wooden wind-pipe]

Written especially for John Williams, the work is dedicated to the memory of the novelist Maggie Hemingway. It finishes on a high ‘B’, designated by ‘H’ in German, suggesting the dedicatee’s ascent to Heaven.3

In speaking of “three sections,” Sculthorpe is presumably referring to the work’s ternary

form. There are thus two musical sections employed in alternation, creating the form

ABA. In fact, this work displays the classic ‘Sculthorpian’ duality between a slow

expressive style, and a fast ritualistic style--as noted frequently in the literature.4 The first

section is a Lento marked con malinconia (with melancholy), and the second section is a

3 Composer’s note to Sculthorpe, From Kakadu and Into the Dreaming (London: Faber Music

Ltd., 1994). 4 Naomi-Helen Cumming, “Encountering Mangrove: An Essay in Signification,” Australasian

Music Research 1 (1996): 201. See also Michael Hannan, Peter Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas (St Lucia, London, New York: University of Queensland Press, 1982), 32ff. Cummings also cites Jana Skarecky, “Duality in the Music of Peter Sculthorpe: String Quartet #10 (M.Mus. thesis, University of Sydney, 1987).

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Più mosso marked inquieto (restless). These programmatic contrasts are perfectly

mirrored in the rhythmic character and harmonies. The meaning of these affective

contrasts could be compared to the duality of nature, as in the work Nourlangie, which

concerns a place that Sculthorpe describes as “both powerful and serene.”5 Alternatively,

this duality could express the dual nature of grieving, sometimes a mixture of quiet and

storm.

The Lento is a long-breathed, soulful melody supported by long drones and open-

spaced chords. This is the melody that Sculthorpe describes as “yearning.” It begins

with a pentatonic collection and gradually grows out of this as more notes are added. In

contrast, the Più mosso displays shifting patterns of syncopation, and contains more

dissonant harmonies with greater emphasis on the interval of the semitone.

Harmonically, it is closely related to Sculthorpe’s Japanese-influenced sub-style, as is

seen at the beginning of From Kakadu and several sections in Tropic that evidence the

use of the in-scale. Set-class [015] (one of Sculthorpe’s most favored sonorities and a

subset of the in-scale) is used as a referential pitch collection throughout the inquieto.

Let us now examine these two thematic groups in a little more detail, to illustrate the

differing tonal languages that Sculthorpe employs to realize these contrasts.

6-2. Centricity and Tonal Process in the Più mosso: A Musical Language

The quasi-minimalist second section obviously relates to Sculthorpe’s technique of

“growth by accretion” in its rhythmic patterns that recur repeatedly with subtly shifting

variations. The texture exhibits a mixture of melody and arpeggio of rather limited

motivic content. Particularly in the rhythmic dimension, there is a strong sense of “feel”

or “groove”--a quality of rhythmic sameness (as seen in many other sections of repetitive,

ritualistic music by Sculthorpe).

5 This comes from the composer’s note to Nourlangie--see page 71 for the full quote and citation.

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The basic thematic unit is ten measures long, and this theme can be divided into two

parts. The first six measures of the theme (mm.61-66) emphasize the semitone motive D-

Eb, while the next four (mm.67-70) provide a secondary, contrasting motive (Ex.6-1).

The ten-measure long “theme” is repeated four times, each time with slight variations.

Each successive repeat gathers in intensity, expressed in terms of “busyness”

(more notes and fewer long rhythmic values), thickening in texture, additional harmonic

complexity, and increase in volume. The four statements of the basic thematic unit are

followed by six-measures of related closing material.

The idea of metamorphosis that is inherent within ‘Sculthorpian’ “growth by

accretion” also manifests itself in the harmonic processes at work in this section. As

stated previously, the set-class [015] acts as a referential pitch collection. In order to

begin an explication of the processes of harmonic change, let me point out that the

composer has notated detailed phrase markings that conveniently group the pitch content

into small portions. To be precise, there are thirty-one sub-phrases indicated, providing

convenient justification for the segmentation of the pitch content. Examining the pitch

content of each sub-phrase, we see the succession of pitch-class sets outlined in Table 6-

1 below (see also Ex.6-1).

Many of the set-classes used are ones familiar to us from the study of From

Kakadu, such as [0157], [0156], and [0145]--the “Woolharra” chord.6 Furthermore, the

chosen pitch-class sets are notable for their symmetrical (invariant) properties, another

common ‘Sculthorpian’ feature. For example, the set-class [0158] shows hidden

invariance, in that its symmetrical qualities are not obvious in normal form (as they are

with [0145], and [0156]). However, a symmetry becomes clear when the set is stated as

6 See Deborah Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press,

1993), 15. For a fuller discussion and list of references refer to chapter 1, footnote 88.

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it appears in the score--in the manifestation {D, G, Bb, Eb }, from lowest to highest,

displaying the interval segment7 <5, 4, 5>.

Table 6-1. Processes of Harmonic Change in the Più mosso of Into the Dreaming (SC = set-class, CTs = common-tones)

Mm. Sub-phrase SC Pitches Relation to preceding SC (first thematic statement) 61-65 1-4 [015] D, G, Eb 65-66 5 [0145] D, G, Eb, Gb Gb added 66-68 6 [0157] D, G, C#, A 2 CTs 68-69 7 [015] D, C#, A G subtracted 69-70 8 [01] D, C# A subtracted (second thematic statement) 70-75 9-12 [015] D, G, Eb 1 CT (sense of progression) 75-76 13 [0145] D, G, Eb, Gb Gb added 76-78 14 [0157] D, G, C#, A 2 CTs 78-79 15 [015] D, C#, A G subtracted 79-80 16 [01] D, C# A subtracted (third thematic statement) 80-83 17-18 [0158] D, G, Eb, Bb 1 CT (sense of progression) 83-84 19 [015] D, G, Eb Bb subtracted 84-85 20 [0157] D, G, C#, A 2 CTs 85-86 21 [015] D, G, Eb 2 CTs (fourth thematic statement) 86-89 22-23 [0158] D, G, Eb, Bb Bb added 89-90 24 [015] D, G, Eb Bb subtracted 90-91 25 [0157] D, G, C#, A 2 CTs 91-92 26 [015] D, G, Eb 2 CTs (closing material) 92-94 27 [0156] D, G, Eb, Ab Ab added 94 28 [016] D, G, Ab Eb subtracted 94-96 29 [0156] D, G, Eb, Ab Ab added 96 30 [016] D, G, Ab Eb subtracted 96-98 31 [015] D, G, F# 2 CTs

The table also outlines the use of common-tones to create smooth transitions from

one sonority to another. From the table, it can be clearly seen how a sense of pitch

centricity is established through assertion and repetition (rather than through functional

tonal processes). The pitch D is prevalent throughout, while G appears for most of the

7 A sequentially ordered set of unordered pitch-class intervals, taken from consecutive pairs of

pitches. In other words, counting the number of semitones between each pair.

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passage. Arguably, the pitch G ultimately emerges as the focal point of pitch centricity,

as indeed it does for the entire piece. The constant reiteration of the ascending perfect

fourth interval, from D to G, acts like a dominant-tonic relationship, strengthening aural

perception of G as tonal center. However, a certain tension is maintained between the

two competing drones (D and G), and this tension plays out across the entire piece.

Certain tonal processes at work in this passage could be compared, figuratively

speaking, to those of functional tonal harmony. It was outlined above that the ten-

measure thematic unit could be divided into two parts: (A) the first six measures, and (B)

the last four measures. These subdivisions emphasize two different [015] pitch-class

sets: {D, G, Eb} and {D, C#, A}. The processes of transformation/metamorphosis are

illustrated in Table 6-1 by describing the common-tones shared between successive

pitch-class sets. The ten-measure thematic units proceed in a series of stages outlined as

follows (starting from the pitch-classes D, G, A):

(1) Addition of Gb

(2) A change using two common-tones to smooth the transition

(3) The subtraction of G, creating the different [015] pitch-class set {D, C#, A}

(4) The subtraction of A.

(5) A jump to the beginning of the next thematic statement (a return to stage one).

It is immediately evident that certain stages create abrupt shifts whereas others display

gradual metamorphosis. Stage one occurs within part A, stage two represents the shift to

part B, and stages three and four represent a reductive process which whittles down the

tetrachord {D, G, C#, A} to the trichord {D, C#, A} and finally the dyad {D, C#}. The

most striking shift of those listed above occurs at stage two. This is the apex or “corner”

where additive processes end and subtractive ones begin.

The polarity of the two [015] set-classes on either side of this juncture could be

likened to the tonic-dominant axis in functional tonality. The [015] comprising pitches

{D, G, Eb} is like a tonic or “home” set, and the [015] comprising pitches {D, C#, A} is

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like the dominant, or “away” set. The shift from “home” set to “away” set at stage two

thus creates a sense of tonal departure.

Showing an even greater sense of change is the shift from {D, C#, A}--or

actually, {D, C#}--back to {D, G, Eb} that occurs at the commencement of the next

thematic statement. Only one common-tone appears (D). This transition, more than any

other, has a sense of a harmonic “progression” rather than the gradual incremental

processes of metamorphosis. It can be compared to a cadential progression from

dominant to tonic, providing a strong sense of tonal “return.”

As with the tonal progression I-V-I, our progression{D, G, Eb} to {D, C#, A} to

{D, G, Eb} has only one common-tone (D, the dominant of G). Thus, the removal of the

pitch G as a common-tone in part B actually reinforces G as tonal center in much the

same way as in a functional tonal progression where the dominant chord ultimately

reinforces the tonic by the absence of the tonic pitch itself. It accomplishes this through

the effect of tonal departure and return. Sculthorpe’s tonal language has therefore

evolved to a degree of sophistication wherein tonality is not only established by more

primitive methods of repetition and assertion, but through processes of departure and

return analogous but subtly different from functional tonality.

The conclusion to the Più mosso is particularly interesting in that it ends on

another [015] pitch-class set: {D, G, F#}. A sense of completion is thus achieved without

a return to the original “home” or “tonic” pitch-class set, {D, G, Eb}. The F# in {D, G,

F#} has the effect of a tendency-tone, tonicizing G. Similarly, the immediately preceding

[016] pitch-class set, {D, G, Ab}, has an Ab which also acts like a tendency-tone. The

semitones from F# to G and Ab to G have a tonicizing effect.

When we examine closely our “home” and “away” [015] pitch-class sets, we see

how the tension between G (as the ultimate point of tonal focus), and D (as a subsidiary

focal point) is maintained. The semitones from D (Eb to D and C# to D, respectively) are

implicit within the two [015] set-classes, and ultimatley serve to tonicize D. A certain

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symmetry about D is also created. This is evident when the two [015] set-classes are

combined and ordered as follows: G, C#, D, Eb, A. The symmetry is clearly

demonstrated by the interval segment of this succession of pitches: <4, 1, 1, 4>.

6-3. Tonality and Form in the Lento Sections

In the beginning of Into the Dreaming, the melody emerges as if out of nothingness.

Indeed, creation metaphors would not be inappropriate here as the dreamtime is, among

other things, a time of creation. The melody begins sparsely with a single melodic line

that gradually gathers bass drones and an added inner voice. The melody’s basic

thematic unit is essentially thirty measures in length. It is given three statements over the

course of the piece, each gathering in intensity. In the second statement (mm.31-60), the

melody repeats an octave higher, and contains thickened harmony (as well as some minor

rhythmic contractions and a short melodic extension). Following the Più mosso, the

recapitulation of the Lento melody reaches an apex. Here it is marked not con

malinconia but con espressione (mm.99-128). It is set in an even higher tessitura of the

guitar, with a fuller texture that includes two or more inner voices. Just as each repetition

of the melody reflects gradual growth, a process of creation, the tonal centricity of the

work also emerges gradually out of murky depths, as if symbolic of the pieces own

programmatic content.

Each of the three manifestations of this melody show subtle rhythmic differences.

These are illustrated in Ex.6-2, which vertically aligns each statement so that the

differences are obvious. Evidently, the first four sub-phrases of No.1 have been

subjected to rhythmic augmentation and modification, as compared to the simpler

versions in No.2 and No.3. Similarly, several sub-phrases in No.3 are rhythmically

simplified. Moreover, I propose the simplification shown in Ex.6-3 as a prototype for

this melody.

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This prototype more clearly illustrates underlying rhythmic and formal patterns in

the construction of the melody (patterns somewhat obscured by the continuing subtle

syncopations in the actual music). The regularity of the super-triplet, for instance, creates

a two-measure hypermeter. The resemblance of the first two phrases (mm.1-2 and 3-4 of

the prototype) to an antecedent and consequent also sets up an expectation of four-

measure hypermeter, but the melody strains against this in the following measures

(mm.5-16), having a breathless quality that strives upwards and onwards. This creates a

larger twelve-measure group (mm.5-16), that arguably contains a weaker cadence after

eight measures (see the dotted lines in Ex.6-3). Following the twelve-measure group,

there is an eight-measure group (m.17ff) which also contains a weaker cadence at the

mid-point. The endings of the larger groups (the ends of lines two and three in Ex.6-3)

are tonally inconclusive, having a timeless quality by ending ambiguously on the pitch C,

a fourth above G (arguably the point of tonal centricity). In addition, sub-phrase c occurs

as the answering sub-phrase in a pair (mm.6-7) and later as a the calling sub-phrase in a

pair (mm.17-18), thereby weakening the sense of four-measure hypermeter and

contributing to the sense of breathless continuity.

The essential principal of metamorphosis that is evident across many of

Sculthorpe’s works can also be seen in the formal construction of this melody. This ties

in with the connotations of creation inherent within the idea of the dreamtime. For

example, the succession of sub-phrases (as seen in Ex.6-3) gives the pattern a1b--a2c1de--

f1g1--c2h--f2g2. Although somewhat ad hoc, a progressive rondo principal is clearly

evident--progressive in that the returning unit is not constant (first it is a, then it is c, then

f and g). Furthermore, the second larger unit (acdefg) grows out of the first (ab), and the

final larger unit (chfg) is distilled from the second. The effect is, again, of one

continuously evolving long-breathed melody.

Now let us explicate the tonal processes that go along with this gradually

emerging melody. In its first statement, the harmonic implications of the melody emerge

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gradually, out of the nothingness. Furthermore, Sculthorpe continues to cultivate a

certain ambiguity in entertaining the oscillation between G and D as tonal centers. Only

in the second statement of the melody does the hegemony of G assert itself more

forcefully.

The opening of the melody commences with the pitch content of the pentatonic

collection {C, D, E, G, A}, which is inherently flexible and ambiguous in its tonal

implications (see Ex.6-2). The tonal center could easily have become C, but the entry of

the pedal note D in m.4 counteracts this tendency. It suggests something of D as tonic

but sounds more like a dominant since the melody comes to rest on G. G is also the

center of symmetry in the quartal formal of pitches here {D-G-C} (mm.4-5, Ex.6-4a).

At m.10, pitches outside the initial pentatonic collection appear. The D pedal

now begins to usurp the role of tonic, aided by the additional pitches F and C# (creating a

sense of D minor). The pitches C# and A (over a D pedal), in mm.13-15, imply chord V

of D over a tonic pedal.

The sense of D as tonal center is destabilized by mm.16-18, which outline a

quartal arrangement of pitches, {D, G, C, F}, symmetrical about the middle pair {G, C}

(Ex.6-4b). This sonority is clearly an extension of the pitch formation in mm.4-5. With

the pitch A, it is now the pentatonic collection {F, G, A, C, D} that is clearly implied.

This interpretation becomes even clearer in subsequent renditions, such as mm.42-46, and

mm.111-13 (Ex.6-4d-e).

The reworking of the “musical thought” a2c1de--f1g1 in the immediately following

music (sub-phrases c2h--f2g2) contains subtle harmonic modifications. The pitch A

natural is replaced by A flat, as if it were based on a synthetic scale that contains a

flattened seventh and diminished fifth. The cadential arrival on the dyad [05] (the perfect

fourth, D-G) at m.19 is also replaced by the dyad [06] (a tritone), which appears in m.24

as D-G#/Ab and in mm.26-28 as F#-C. The effect of these modifications is to further

destabilize D as tonal center and to “modulate,” as it were, towards G. The dyad F#-C is

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the tritone inherent within V7 of G. It resolves to a G-centric sonority (like a G9), but one

with no third, so that the normal resolution of the seventh (the pitch C) is thwarted (F#

does go to G, however). Centricity is therefore created through the implication of

functional tonal procedures but the clarity of conventional tonal voice-leading is partly

avoided.

With the second statement of the melody, the centrality of G is confirmed by the

switch from a D pedal to a G pedal for this entire section. At weak cadential points that

previously tonicized D (such as at the end of sub-phrase e), Sculthorpe purposely

circumvents stability through the incorporation of pitches a semitone away from the

pedal, namely G#/Ab or F#. However, these ancillaries will be seen to ultimately have a

tonicizing effect on G. Other implications of functional harmony appear in the appended

phrase at the end of the melody, which contains a half-diminished sonority that serves as

a dominant substitute (for V of G).

The predilection for the verticalized interval-class one was also seen in the first

statement, such as in mm.13 and 15 where C# occurs over D. This phenomena is also

related to the use of the tritone interval at cadence (seen in both statements). In the

second statement, the combination of [01] and [06] results in the trichordal set-class [016]

at certain cadential points (such as at m.42, m.50 and m.54). Again, this set-class

undermines the normal sense of resolve. The cadential effect is created by the contour

and rhythm of the melody but undermined by the harmonies.

The pitches of the pentatonic collection {F, G, A, C, D} also exert a significant

influence on this manifestation of the tune, used prominently in several locations to create

symmetrical pitch constructions with the focal point of G, such as m.31 (Ex.6-4c) and

mm.42-46 (Ex.6-4d).

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Despite a musical surface that appears to only pay lip-service to functional

tonality, deeper investigation reveals that voice-leading procedures associated with

functional harmony actually play a significant role in the second statement of the melody.

Of course, there is the obvious use of parallel sixths in following the twists and turn of

the tune. But the voice-leading graph shown in Ex.6-5 (actual music shown in Ex.6-2)

demonstrates that the inner voices participate in some more middle-ground prolongations.

For instance, the prominent use of G# in an inner voice is effectively functioning like a

chromatic passing tone from A to G. Furthermore, the voice-leading graph reveals a

number of motivic parallelisms, such as the A-G#-G motion in an inner voice in mm.31-

34, 35-45 and 46-56. The jump from Ab to D in the treble of mm.49-50 is also mirrored

by mm.57-58.

Following the Più mosso, the final statement of the melody reconfirms the

centricity of G through its us of a G pedal.. The harmonies of this section also show

some syntactical similarities with other pentatonic music we have discussed in

Nourlangie, and Tropic. The accompanying drones form set-classes similar to those of

the accompaniment ostinati in these other works. For instance, the melody begins with

the pentatonic collection {C, D, E, G, A} and the accompaniment commences with the

set-class [025] on the pitches {G, D, F}. This is precisely the same pitch-class set,

relative to the pertinent pentatonic collection, as used initially in pentatonic sections of

Nourlangie and Tropic. The sequence of accompaniment harmonies is outlined in Table

6-2 below, and also in Ex.6-6.

The combined pitch content of this passage is predominantly a six-note set that

can be derived either quartally or by stacked thirds: {F, C, G, D, A, E} or {D, F, A, C, E,

G}. Other pitches like F#, Ab, and C# can be rationalized as verticalized auxiliaries

(neighbors) to the central dyad G-D, which ultimately strengthen the centricity of this

dyad (but primarily G). The pitch B is conspicuously absent on the entire final page of

the score. While G is the overriding tonal center (despite passing tonicizations of D), by

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avoiding the pitch B (and, for that matter, Bb) Sculthorpe avoids any question of G major

or G minor. The harmonic language is a curious corollary of the pentatonic and the

pandiatonic, the tertian and the quartal, with tonal functions that are sometimes different

yet sometimes the same as tonal functions.

Table 6-2. Pitch-class and Set-class Content in Statement No.3 of the Lento Melody

(SC = set-class) Mm SC Pitch-class content Other significant information. 99-106 [025] {G, D, F} Melody based on pentatonic

{C, D, E, G, A}, but then adds F 108-10 [06] to [07] {G, C#} to {G, D} Tonicizes D (weakly) 111-12 [027] {G, D, A} Melody and harmony belong to pentatonic collection {F, G, A, C, D} 113-14 [05] {G, C} Melody and harmony belong to pentatonic collection {F, G, A, C, D} 115-16 [027] {G, C, D} Creates quartal sonority [0257] with

melodic pitch F 117-18 [05] {G, C} Forms [0157] SC with melodic pitches 119-20 [027] {G, D, A} Melody and harmony belong to pentatonic collection {F, G, A, C, D} 121-22 [01] {G, F#} Forms [016] SC with melodic pitch C

6-4. A Fitting End

In the coda, the music returns briefly to the motives of the Più mosso and its more

dissonant, Insen-derived set-classes such as [016] and [0157] (Ex.6-6). However, at this

point, the music is marked calmato (the antithesis of inquieto), signaling that the storm

has now been calmed, the inner demons quieted. The conflict between the two primary

themes has played itself out, and a blissful state is now achieved.

As if to confirm this, the more dissonant harmonies characterizing the Più mosso

last for only eight measures. They are then replaced by the more sweet, anhemitonic

sonorities of stacked fifths at mm.136-41 (Ex.6-6). This process of quartal stacking

creates the pentatonic collection {C, D, E, G, A} with which the piece commenced. But

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the quartal ascent is continued further, reaching the pitch B, which does not belong to this

pentatonic collection. This high B (on a natural harmonic) is the final pitch of the work,

creating a curious conclusion.

The significance of the final B is seen in the way that Sculthorpe had studiously

avoided it in the final page of the score. Reaching B therefore constitutes the

achievement of something previously denied. Sculthorpe writes that the B is “H” in

German which is “H” for “heaven”, signifying “the dedicatee’s [novelist Maggie

Hemingway’s] assent to heaven.” The achievement of the pitch B at the work’s

conclusion parallels the attainment of heavenly bliss, which comes not through earthly

strivings but only in death/finality. It is at this point in the piece that we have truly

entered “the dreaming.” The conclusion to Into the Dreaming is not a strong tonal

arrival, nor a triumphant end. The tonal implications of this arrival on B are suitably

vague. In this quiet conclusion, the music fades away gently, in much the same fashion

as the conclusion to From Kakadu. It is as if the music continues on, unending. We

simply no longer hear it.

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CHAPTER 7: Conclusion

A work of this kind can never be complete when the composer is still active. Even as I

was working on this essay, Sculthorpe produced several new chamber works involving

the guitar. Despite his advanced age, he shows little if any signs of slowing down. We

have every reason to believe that Sculthorpe will continue to contribute to the repertoire

of the classical guitar with works of substance and quality.

Although Sculthorpe did not write for the guitar until relatively late in his career,

he has already produced a substantial canon for the instrument including some dozen

pieces (depending on whether you count withdrawn works, and multiple versions).

Moreover, the guitar has come to occupy a privileged position in his works list, bettered

by few other instruments (with the notable exception of piano and cello).213 The credit

for this rush of new works for the guitar is largely due to Sculthorpe’s relationship with

John Williams and the Darwin International Guitar Festival, directed by Adrian Walter.

The relationship of Sculthorpe and the Darwin International Guitar Festival, which began

in 1993, was a perfect marriage owing to the fact that at the time Sculthorpe had already

begun a romance with the landscapes of the Northern Territory, particularly Kakadu

National Park, and to a lesser extent Uluru. Walter has carefully fostered Sculthorpe’s

love of the territory, making the composer an important feature of the festival.

Sculthorpe’s guitar works are intrinsically linked to the works of his Kakadu

period, sharing musical material with all of the major works. The “Kakadu songlines” (as

the composer calls this shared material) include the “Elcho Island Lament,” “Djilile,” the

“Torres Strait Dance-Song,” and others. The significant ties of the guitar to several of

213 A relatively current list is maintained online by Sculthorpe’s publisher, Faber Music Ltd., as

part of an online brochure with foreword by Wilfred Mellers: “Peter Sculthorpe,” [online brochure] (Accessed 10 November 2002), <http://www.fabermusic.co.uk/fabermusic/cont_composers/brochures/94115ful.pdf>.

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these themes can be easily demonstrated. The Visions of Captain Quiros (1980),

although strictly speaking written before the Kakadu period, was the first instrumental

work to include the “Elcho Island Lament” (also prominently used in the solo work From

Kakadu), and is quite possibly the first extensive use of octatonicism in Sculthorpe’s

music. The new guitar concerto which grew out of Quiros, Nourlangie, contains the first

instance of the “Torres Strait Dance-Song,” a theme which has subsequently been used in

several other works. In addition, “Djilile” (perhaps Sculthorpe’s most favored tune),

appears prominently in the ensemble work Tropic.

There are multiple difficulties in trying to understand a work of music that is not

entirely independent, but part of a chain or works using similar materials, and reflecting a

complex of extra-musical associations. Undoubtedly, no investigation of a particular

work is complete without tracing its etymological lineage, and making comparisons with

other pieces using the same musical themes. Evaluating each different musical and

programmatic setting can reveal undiscovered aspects of the musical object itself and

about Sculthorpe’s musical language in general.

Sculthorpe’s practice of extensively recycling musical material is not without

precedent in earlier music. Certainly, there are numerous isolated instances of composers

recycling music from one work to another. But extensive and systematic recycling of this

magnitude is comparatively rare. I would argue that the closest analogies to be found in

Western music occur at particularly formative moments in musical history. The

dependence of early polyphony on Gregorian chant is one example. Similarly, the

penchant for the use of melodic and harmonic formulae in the early seventeenth-century

coincided with the development of functional tonality. Instrumental players depended on

the use of ground bass patterns such as the Romanesca, the Folia, and the Passamesso,

among others. Moreover, extensive recycling in this era would include such instances as

Dowland’s numerous and innovative versions of the song “Flow My Tears”

(“Lachrimae”). One could also make comparisons to jazz in the twentieth-century, which

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has often relied on creating new versions of old “standards.” Of course, some of these

examples depended on recycled material because they were live-performance idioms.

However, I believe that a more fundamental reason for the dependence of these

repertories on recycled musical material is that they represent a music that is largely

uncodified, and in a state of flux--devoid from the stability provided by the functional

tonal system that existed throughout Western music from the late seventeenth-century

until the end of the nineteenth.

Sculthorpe’s dependence on recycling is closely linked with the fact that he has

successfully created a consistent musical style to the point where the application of the

metaphor “musical language” is not inappropriate. Since the beginning of the twentieth

century, common-practice tonality ceased to be an acceptable compositional language for

forward-looking composers. Many were therefore faced with the dilemma of how to

proceed, how to develop compositional fluency without reinventing the wheel in every

single piece. The promise of serialism to provide a universal compositional language was

relatively short-lived. The last few decades of the twentieth-century ushered in a post-

modern, anything-goes, environment--which only served to exacerbate the dilemma of

the classical composer’s yearnings for a consistent compositional language. Sculthorpe’s

example provides a possible solution to this problem.

In the absence of a common universal tonal language, the recycling of musical

material is a viable method of creating a consistent musical language of ones own. Each

new musical object carries its own technical problems, so by focusing on the same

musical object, a composer can refine their compositional technique to a high degree. In

this way, Sculthorpe has given his works a unity surpassed by few composers of our time.

On the other hand, his entire oeuvre takes on the guise of a gigantic work in progress.

But Sculthorpe’s recycling is not simply a crutch for the creation of a uniform

style. It also demonstrates a real commitment to the musical material, a belief that the

musical object is a precious commodity worth savoring again and again. Each new work

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explores a different aspect of a musical theme, perhaps revealing previously undiscovered

emotional potential. Similarly, by the placement of a theme in a different programmatic

paradigm, the listener is forced to approach the musical object from a fresh perspective.

Sculthorpe compares his reuse of musical material with a painter who repaints the same

scene over and over again (a common occurrence in art).214 For instance, in painting the

Cathedral at Rouen in multiple versions, Monet arguably explored the shifting patterns of

light that are important to the Impressionist idiom. Arguably, keeping the same subject

also had the side effect of helping him refine the essence of his artistic style and

technique, just as musical recycling facilitated the consistency of Sculthorpe’s musical

language.

Sculthorpe’s commitment to the musical objects he recycles (the so-called

“Kakadu songlines,” among others) goes hand in hand with a commitment to the very

idea of melody. Although Sculthorpe’s conception of melody is not the melody of

common-practice tonality, it is nevertheless an identifiable musical object that is often

singable. Unlike many other composers of his generation, Sculthorpe never completely

abandoned melody and corporeal rhythm (rhythms based on song and dance). Rather, he

aimed for the renewal of Western music by the incorporation of fresh input from Asian

and Aboriginal cultures in the Pacific Rim. David Matthews writes that “[a]s a composer

outside Europe, Sculthorpe has not suffered from our present inhibitions about melody,

and here he may have most to teach us, for the revitalizing of melody is, perhaps, the

most important problem for European composers to solve.”215

Of course, the other important aspect of Sculthorpe’s quest to create a unique

musical language was his strivings for national identity, desiring to create something that

would be seen as uniquely Australian. He developed a sophisticated rhetoric defending

214 Sculthorpe, Sun Music: Journey’s and Reflections from a Composer’s Life (Adelaide: Griffin Press, 1999), 264.

215 David Matthews, "Peter Sculthorpe At 60," Tempo 170 (September 1989): 17.

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the essential Australian qualities of his musical practices. For instance, his love of a

musical program stems from his belief that Australia is a visual culture,216 his obsession

with the landscape is due to the fact that this is one of Australia’s most unique assets.

Even his use of repetition (“growth by accretion”) and a slow rate of harmonic change are

linked to the “spaciousness and terrifying sameness” of the Australian outback (to quote

Hannan).217 Similarly, the use of Aboriginal musical material, and the adoption of

Aboriginal attitudes to the land, has come to play an important role in this identity, as has

his espousal of an aesthetic that marries that best of the art music tradition with a certain

popular appeal (in many ways paralleling the early career of American composer Aaron

Copland). Undoubtedly, Sculthorpe has created a musical idiom that has great popular

appeal, but yet is indisputably unique.

The task of the theorist in coming to grips with Sculthorpe’s musical language

carries multiple difficulties. Like Sculthorpe’s oeuvre, the understanding of this language

must remain a work in progress. Some elements are clear, such as the use of “growth by

accretion”, phase techniques, symmetry in form and pitch construction, simple sectional

formal structures, structural punctuation, and Asian-influenced harmonies. The syntax of

his harmonic language is more elusive, although we can point out his love of certain

sonorities such as [0157], and [0145] and his attachment to the pentatonic collection,

quartal-quintal harmonies, the in-scale, and to a lesser extent, the octatonic collection. At

times, his music is sometimes unified by the careful control of set-class content,

sometimes functionally tonal, and sometimes in-between. Much of his music is tonal but

occupies a gray area between the functionally tonal and the non-functionally tonal. And,

at times, we begin to see the development of a unique harmonic syntax of Sculthorpe’s

216 See Michael Hannan, Peter Sculthorpe: His Music and Ideas (St Lucia, London, New York:

University of Queensland Press, 1982), 12. 217 Michael Hannan, "Peter Sculthorpe," in Australian Composition in the Twentieth Century, ed.

Frank Callaway and David Tunley (Melbourne: Oxford University Press, 1978), 142.

241

own invention. What is endlessly fascinating is that whatever the dialect of a particular

piece, Sculthorpe’s music always bears his distinctive fingerprint.

In the twenty-first century, Sculthorpe appears to be leaving behind his Kakadu

period and entering a new phase of compositional development. But as with all the

periods in his compositional output (Irkanda series, Sun Music series, Kakadu period),

there is always something instantly recognizable as his own, that curious blend of the old

and the new.

The eclectic nature of Sculthorpe’s musical language is perhaps the most notable

feature to emerge from this study. And in the end it is this quality--more than anything

else--that arguably makes him Australian. The Australia of today is not the colonial

British backwater of yesteryear but a young and vibrant multi-cultural community mixing

old-world British charm, outback lore, and some distinctly Asian and Aboriginal cultural

influences. As an Australian, Sculthorpe takes the best of the cultural influences

surrounding him and mixes them with his own distinctive flair and charm. As put by

Deborah Hayes, Sculthorpe’s music “is romantic in emotional content, classical in formal

clarity, avant-garde in its sound materials, exotic in its references, and post-modern in its

accessibility.”218 And, he loves the guitar.

218 Deborah Hayes, Peter Sculthorpe: A Bio-Bibliography (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press,

1993), 6.

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APPENDIX

How to Find a Particular Passage in Tropic and The Visions of Captain Quiros.

The scores for Tropic and The Visions of Captain Quiros219 do not include measure

numbers. Only rehearsal numbers are given. However, for the sake of convenient

reference, I use measure numbers in the text when referring to specific musical passages.

These charts, then, cross-reference rehearsal numbers and measure numbers in these two

scores. They can be used to conveniently locate any particular passage (referenced using

measure numbers in the text) without having to go to the trouble of adding measure

numbers to the score.

219 Now withdrawn, but a copy for academic use only was provided to me by the library of the

Australian Music Centre.

243

Correspondences in Tropic

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Section Rehearsal No. Bar No ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Lontano -- 1 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Molto sostenuto 1 13 2 28 3 43 4 55 5 63 6 75 7 87 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Lontano 8 93 9 103 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Estatico 10 113 10a 115 11 123 12 131 13 141 14 149 15 157 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Molto sostenuto 16 167 17 177 18 185 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Estatico 19 197 19a 199 20 208 21 216 22 226 23 236 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

244

Correspondences in The Visions of Captain Quiros

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Section Rehearsal No. Bar No. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I. First Vision -- 1 1 15 2 23 3 35 4 47 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- II. Preparation -- 59 1 67 2 82 3 99 4 115 5 131 6 137 7 153 8 159 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- III. The Pacific -- 169 1 177 2 185 3 193 4 201 5 209 6 215 7 227 8 235 9 243 10 251 11 257 12 263 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- IV. Second Vision -- 271 1 291 2 307 3 323 4 339 5 355 6 365 7 371 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

245

Correspondences in The Visions of Captain Quiros (continued)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Section Rehearsal No. Bar No. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- V. The South Land... -- 379 1 385 2 391 3 399 4 407 5 415 6 423 7 429 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- VI. Disillusionment -- 441 1 449 2 465 3 477 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- VII. Last Vision -- 497 1 503 2 511 3 517 4 523 5 531 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

246

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