Charles Avison, An Essay on Musical Expression

(London, 1753, 3rd edn., 1775, part 1, section 2)


Avison became organist of the principal church of St Nicholas, Newcastle
upon Tyne in 1736 (see John Brown, p. 82*), having spent most of his early
years in the city. From then until he died he was responsible for an
unusually ambitious series of concerts there. He was an active composer
with some fifty concerti grossi to his credit; he is best known perhaps for
his Essay and for the reaction that it provoked: an anonymous answer from
the Oxford professor of music, William Hayes, a "Reply" from Avison
himself, and a "Letter" in support of Avison from Dr Jortin, all of which
were published in the third, 1775 edition of the Essay. The Essay
divides into three parts, the first covering the general question of
music's "force and effects" and suggesting some analogies between music and
painting, the second discussing techniques of composition and the need to
balance the elements of melody and harmony, the third (and in many ways the
most illuminating section of the work) examining questions of performance.

     Avison believed above all that music is an expressive art. He
observed that melody and harmony of themselves make an impression on the
listener. "Yet when to these is added the force of musical expression,
the effect is greatly increased; for then they assume the power of exciting
all the most agreeable passions of the soul. The force of sound in alarming
the passions is prodigious" (pt 1, section 1, p. 3).

     While Avison has little to say on the theory of the imitation of
nature, he was well aware of the work of his French contemporaries; he
quotes from Montesquieu, Rameau and (remarkably) from the Mémoires de
littérature, tirez des registres de l'académie royale des inscriptions et
belles lettres vol. 7, the paper given by M. Burette -- "Dissertation ou
l'on fait voir que les merveilleux effets, attribuez à la musique des
Anciens, ne prouvent point qu'elle fut aussi parfaite que la notre", in
which he cites the famous passage by Polybius on the music of the Arcadians
and the Cynaetheans.(1) A similar breadth of reading is evident in the work
of Avison's correspondents: Jortin, for instance, draws upon Voltaire and
Du Bos.

     The second section of part 1 (quoted here in full is Avison's attempt
to put into terms that an uninformed reader would be able to understand his
views on the nature and purpose of music. Later writers were to see more
effective analogies between music and poetry.

On the analogies between music and painting

From this short theory we should now proceed to offer a few observations relating to composition.

But as musical composition is known to very few besides the professors and composers of music themselves, and as there are several resemblances or analogies between this art and that of painting which is an art much more obvious in its principles and therefore more generally known, it may not be amiss to draw out some of the most striking of these analogies, and by this means, in some degree at least, give the common reader an idea of musical composition.

The chief analogies or resemblances that I have observed between these two noble arts are as follows:

First, they are both founded in geometry, and have proportion for their subject. And though the undulations of air which are the immediate cause of sound be of so subtle a nature as to escape our examination, yet the vibrations of musical strings or chords, from whence these undulation proceed, are as capable of mensuration as any of those visible objects about which painting is conversant.

Secondly, as the excellence of a picture depends on three circumstances, design, colouring and expression, so in music, the perfection of composition arises from melody, harmony and expression. Melody or air, is the work of invention, and therefore the foundation of the other two, and directly analogous to design in painting. Harmony gives beauty and strength to the established melodies in the same manner as colouring adds life to a just design. And in both cases the expression arises from a combination of the other two and is no more than a strong and proper application of them to the intended subject.

Thirdly, as the proper mixture of light and shade (called by the Italians, chiaroscuro) has a noble effect in painting, and is essential to the composition of a good picture; so the judicious mixture of concords and discords is equally essential to a musical composition: as shades are necessary to relieve the eye, which is soon tired and disgusted with a level glare of light, so discords are necessary to relieve the ear, which is otherwise immediately satiated with a continued and unvaried strain of harmony. We may add (for the sake of those who are in any degree acquainted with the theory of music) that the preparations and resolutions of discords resemble the soft gradations from light to shade, or from shade to light in painting.

Fourthly, as in painting there are three various degrees of distances established, viz. the foreground, the intermediate part and the off-skip; so in music there are three different parts strictly similar to these, viz. the bass (or foreground), the tenor (or intermediate) and the treble (or off-skip). In consequence of this, a musical composition without its bass is like a landscape without its foreground; without its tenor it resembles a landscape deprived of its intermediate part; without its treble it is analogous to a landscape deprived of its distance or off-skip. We know how imperfect a picture is when deprived of any of these parts; and hence we may form a judgement of those who determine on the excellence of any musical composition without seeing or hearing it in all its parts, and understanding their relation to each other.

Fifthly, as in painting, especially in the nobler branches of it and particularly in history painting, there is a principal figure which is most remarkable and conspicuous and to which all the other figures are referred and subordinate, so in the greater kinds of musical composition there is a principal or leading subject or succession of notes which ought to prevail and be heard through the whole composition, and to which both the air and harmony of the other parts ought to be in like manner referred and subordinate.

Sixthly, so again, as in painting a group of figures, care is to be had, that there be no deficiency in it but that a certain fullness or roundness be preserved, such as Titian beautifully compared to a bunch of grapes, so in the nobler kinds of musical composition there are several inferior subjects which depend on the principal: and here the several subjects (as in painting the figures do) are as it were to sustain and support each other: and it is certain that if any one of these be taken away from a skilful composition, there will be found a deficiency highly disagreeable to an experienced ear. Yet this does not hinder but there may be perfect composition in two, three, four or more parts, in the same manner as a group may be perfect though consisting of a smaller or greater number of figures. In both cases the painter or musician varies his disposition according to the number of parts or figures which he includes in his plan.

Seventhly, as in viewing a picture you ought to be removed to a certain distance, called the point of sight, at which all its parts are seen in their just proportions, so in a concert there is a certain distance at which the sounds are melted into each other and the various parts strike the ear in their proper strength and symmetry. To stand close by a bassoon or double-bass when you hear a concert, is just as if you should plant your eye close to the foreground when you view a picture, or, as if in surveying a spacious edifice, you should place yourself at the foot of a pillar that supports it.

Lastly, the various styles in painting -- the grand -- the terrible -- the graceful -- the tender -- the passionate -- the joyous -- have all their respective analogies in music. And we may add in consequence of this, that as the manner of handling differs in painting, according as the subject varies, so in music there are various instruments suited to the different kinds of musical compositions and particularly adapted to and expressive of its several varieties. Thus, as the rough handling is proper for battles, sieges, and whatever is great or terrible, and on the contrary the softer handling and more finished touches, are expessive of love, tenderness, or beauty: so in music, the trumpet, horn or kettle-drum are most properly employed on the first of these subjects, the lute or harp on the last. There is a short story in the Tatler(2) which illustrates this analogy very prettily. Several eminent painters are there represented in picture as musicians with those instruments in their hands which most aptly represent their respective manner in painting.


Notes

(1)
The passage was quoted by practically every author who subsequently touched upon the
subject of ancient Greek music.

(2)
No. 153.