What is the 'composer's intention?'

[Monsieur Croche]

PS I just stumbled across a Strauss quote, while composing the work.

Common knowledge, coin of the realm and semiotic. "The Horn Call," a signal, depending on the notes and dynamics, one of alarm, "lone Hero" etc.

Most composers would neither be impressed or find this any kind of point of argument pro or con your wont of their knowingly sitting down to compose, "Deliberately Penned Emotion No. 5."

[Karl Henning]

Satie? No, not really. I don't actually know a huge amount of his music, but from what I know I'd put the humour no higher than causing a slight smirk together with some bemusement.

I did play the "Sonatine bureaucratique" many years ago, and I don't think I found the written commentary especially funny.

Haydn is far funnier for me.

Fair enough, one has preferences.

When asked what he thought of La mer, he replied (I paraphrase), "I especially liked the bit at a quarter to nine." I think that is one of the funniest-without-being-unkind things I've known any composer to say.

[Madiel]

Sibelius four: Maybe he actually sat down before he penned a note and said, "I am going to write a tragic piece." I doubt it. More likely, he had musical ideas, recognized their quality, and being a formalist and a very practiced composer, consciously stayed on track through the writing.

I'm going to come back to this bit specifically to say something further.

Again, you basically are claiming that composers stumble over the emotional content of their work as a result of "staying on track".

There are two problems with this. One, I've already referred to, is that you think I am arguing that Sibelius sat down and said "I am going to write a tragic piece". I'm not arguing that at all. Maybe it's one of the cases where a composer sat down with that kind of purpose, but I don't know that. I don't recall seeing a quote to that effect.

The other problem is one that I've previously raised and which you still haven't addressed. If composers simply stumble over these things all the time, then how do we ever end up with sets of contrasting works? Suppose that Brahms' Festival Overture was literally an accident of happiness. How, then, did he manage to produce a Tragic Overture to go with it? How did Beethoven manage to get op.24 to contrast with op.23 (they were supposed to be presented as a single opus, by the way, the separate numbers are the result of a printing issue)? How did Brahms get his op.26 piano quartet to contrast with his op.25 piano quartet?

Heck, how did anyone manage to create multi-movement pieces where the mood of the 2nd movement contrasts with the mood of the 1st? Is it all just by accident?

This is what you essentially propose. You propose that a composer diligently works the material out, stays on track... and that whether the music comes across as joyous or tragic or heroic or whatever words are used to approximate the impression it gives, is just an accidental result of working out the material.

I'm sorry but that's just ludicrous.

[Florestan]

When asked what he thought of La mer, he replied (I paraphrase), "I especially liked the bit at a quarter to nine."

[Madiel]

Common knowledge, coin of the realm and semiotic. "The Horn Call," a signal, depending on the notes and dynamics, one of alarm, "lone Hero" etc.

And it's your insistence that composers somehow don't or shouldn't care about or utilise semiotics that completely bemuses me.

Seriously? You declare it's common knowledge, and yet you immediately say that this doesn't prove anything about deliberately using horns?

Wow. What a massive contradiction. Everyone knows what horns represent, yet no-one ever deliberately chooses horns for what they represent.

[Florestan]

If composers simply stumble over these things all the time, then how do we ever end up with sets of contrasting works? Suppose that Brahms' Festival Overture was literally an accident of happiness. How, then, did he manage to produce a Tragic Overture to go with it? How did Beethoven manage to get op.24 to contrast with op.23 (they were supposed to be presented as a single opus, by the way, the separate numbers are the result of a printing issue)? How did Brahms get his op.26 piano quartet to contrast with his op.25 piano quartet?

Heck, how did anyone manage to create multi-movement pieces where the mood of the 2nd movement contrasts with the mood of the 1st? Is it all just by accident?

This is what you essentially propose. You propose that a composer diligently works the material out, stays on track... and that whether the music comes across as joyous or tragic or heroic or whatever words are used to approximate the impression it gives, is just an accidental result of working out the material.

I'm sorry but that's just ludicrous.

+ 1

[Karl Henning]

Again, you basically are claiming that composers stumble over the emotional content of their work as a result of "staying on track".

What I took away there (not to detract from the general interest of your longer post) is that Sibelius's immediate concern may have been musical and procedural, rather than making sure an emotional narrative would be somehow clear to the listener. Certainly the musical material has its character, or an aptitude to a range of character; and the notes "come from somewhere."

Through all this (as I hope is no secret from my various intrusions) I have overlapping allegiances. The Stravinskyan skepticism against treating music as pages from any sort of diary; and relying on the listener's sympathetic resonance to the mysterious heart of the music. (And I understand that you get all that.)

Forgive my jumping elsewhere ... but it is in the handling of the musical material that composer expresses his individuality.

[Florestan]

the listener's sympathetic resonance to the mysterious heart of the music

You´re such a romantic, Karl...   

[Madiel]

What I took away there (not to detract from the general interest of your longer post) is that Sibelius's immediate concern may have been musical and procedural, rather than making sure an emotional narrative would be somehow clear to the listener. Certainly the musical material has its character, or an aptitude to a range of character; and the notes "come from somewhere."

Through all this (as I hope is no secret from my various intrusions) I have overlapping allegiances. The Stravinskyan skepticism against treating music as pages from any sort of diary; and relying on the listener's sympathetic resonance to the mysterious heart of the music. (And I understand that you get all that.)

Forgive my jumping elsewhere ... but it is in the handling of the musical material that composer expresses his individuality.

Absolutely no problem, Karl. I've no objection to any of that. I myself have exactly the same skepticism about treating music as a diary - cf my recent exasperation at two conflicting sets of liner notes about Dvorak's Piano Trio No.2 where one was "oh, it sounds tragic because his daughter died" and the other was "why doesn't his music sound happy when he's being successful?". Attempts such as that to link music to biography are not at all to my liking.

And I certainly have no problem with overlapping allegiances. What I have a problem with is any kind of idea that composers simply don't notice anything about the emotional resonances of the material that they're working out musically/procedurally. Why on earth should composers, of all people, be less sensitive to this than listeners? Why wouldn't they factor that into their decision-making process? The degree to which they do this will vary enormously, of course, but a blanket assertion that composers just diligently work away at musical procedures without paying any attention to the emotional content is going too far. There is too much evidence of composers who have made musical choices based on emotional content.

[Karl Henning]

You´re such a romantic, Karl...   

But I'm not a sap!

[(poco) Sforzando]

As well, vocal music makes up the second largest proportion of his output, I believe.

I don't know what this means. Chopin wrote 19 known songs, but they're rarely heard and show no great affinity for the genre. He also wrote no purely orchestral music, no opera, no choral music either. More than any other major composer, his primary output is for solo piano.

[EigenUser]

And yet Debussy supposedly decided on his titles only after writing the pieces, and Satie was fond of whacking titles on top of his pieces that had nothing to do with the music. Still, in Debussy's case the titles generally seem to fit, while in Satie's they just sound like whack jobs.

Wait? You mean that Satie's Desiccated Embryos has nothing to do with the music?!

The whole idea of titles in music is interesting. My position is that they don't have to affect the listening experience, but they can. I think my favorite example is Ligeti's San Francisco Polyphony (I think I've talked about this before on here). Suppose he called it Essay for Orchestra (or something vague and non-descriptive). It would still be a cool and interesting piece exhibiting his ability to write multiple short melodic "cells" occurring simultaneously. Add the title San Francisco Polyphony. Suddenly it becomes one of my favorites, bringing to mind a vibrant city, rush hour, and fog. I'm not going to try to remove the influence of the title if I'm enjoying it. I'd much prefer just to let it add to the work.

[amw]

I don't know what this means. Chopin wrote 19 known songs, but they're rarely heard and show no great affinity for the genre. He also wrote no purely orchestral music, no opera, no choral music either. More than any other major composer, his primary output is for solo piano.

Well basically that he contributed 19 songs (which are as you say), something like 6 chamber works (only one of which is ever really heard these days), and 2 piano concertos (both early works and not very characteristic). All of which are minor compared to the piano works, but songs (with text, obviously) being the most common non-piano music he wrote. I guess. I don't know that it means much either way.

[(poco) Sforzando]

Wait? You mean that Satie's Desiccated Embryos has nothing to do with the music?!

The whole idea of titles in music is interesting. My position is that they don't have to affect the listening experience, but they can. I think my favorite example is Ligeti's San Francisco Polyphony (I think I've talked about this before on here). Suppose he called it Essay for Orchestra (or something vague and non-descriptive). It would still be a cool and interesting piece exhibiting his ability to write multiple short melodic "cells" occurring simultaneously. Add the title San Francisco Polyphony. Suddenly it becomes one of my favorites, bringing to mind a vibrant city, rush hour, and fog. I'm not going to try to remove the influence of the title if I'm enjoying it. I'd much prefer just to let it add to the work.

Well, yes. Debussy might have written a set of Three Symphonic Sketches, or he might have called them Les Montagnes or La Forêt. Instead he called them La Mer. Would the music evoke different feelings or moods with a different title or none at all? Even the use of an absolute title has connotations of its own. I heard John Adams (not the U.S. President) give a talk before the NY premiere of his Naïve and Sentimental Music where he was asked if the work were not a symphony (which in essence it is). Adams, obviously trying to distance himself from the grandiosity associated with that term: "Well I don't know about a Symphony . . . . "

[Mirror Image]

Wait? You mean that Satie's Desiccated Embryos has nothing to do with the music?!

The whole idea of titles in music is interesting. My position is that they don't have to affect the listening experience, but they can. I think my favorite example is Ligeti's San Francisco Polyphony (I think I've talked about this before on here). Suppose he called it Essay for Orchestra (or something vague and non-descriptive). It would still be a cool and interesting piece exhibiting his ability to write multiple short melodic "cells" occurring simultaneously. Add the title San Francisco Polyphony. Suddenly it becomes one of my favorites, bringing to mind a vibrant city, rush hour, and fog. I'm not going to try to remove the influence of the title if I'm enjoying it. I'd much prefer just to let it add to the work.

A listener is going to formulate an opinion of a work regardless of a title or what truly may be the composer's intent. Sibelius' The Wood-Nymph, for example, has a very specific inspiration and one can read about it all they want, but once the music hits our eardrums it does take on a life of its' own. I do, however, love reading about how a genesis of a work came to be and what it's direct influence was and so forth, but, for whatever reason, I can never make the connection between the composer's own inspiration and what I'm actually hearing. Now, I can inject all sorts of emotions and mental imagery into a work as I'm listening to it, but I don't actually believe that was the intent of the music. There always seems to be a disconnect between the composer and the listener and I'm perfectly fine with this kind of understanding as it's not really my place to question what the composer actually meant. It's merely my job to listen, enjoy, and, hopefully, come away from a piece with a better understanding of the composer's music.

[(poco) Sforzando]

When asked what he thought of La mer, he replied (I paraphrase), "I especially liked the bit at a quarter to nine." I think that is one of the funniest-without-being-unkind things I've known any composer to say.

Yes, but the joke doesn't work unless you remember that the first movement is entitled "De l'aube à midi sur la mer," or "from dawn to noon on the sea."

[Karl Henning]

Yes, but the joke doesn't work unless you remember that the first movement is entitled "De l'aube à midi sur la mer," or "from dawn to noon on the sea."

Bien sûr!

[Mirror Image]

Speaking of Debussy's La Mer, there are times when I think "This passage right here (whatever catches my ear at the time of listening) must mean something? How could it not?" but I soon realize that once again perhaps I'm quite wrong again. Music that means something to us makes us question, not necessarily the composer, but why we were so affected by the piece to begin with. I freely admit that I have often imbued a piece with perhaps some absurd thoughts that would make me sound as if I'm a crazy person, but I just can't help it. I think it's fun to discuss a piece of music and what we hear, but I don't ever think we should let these kinds of thoughts trick us into thinking this is what the composer really meant, because we'll never truly know, but I never thought for a second that anyone is wrong with their own personal impressions of a work. Everyone has a right to listen to music however they want. Like I mentioned before, if it brings us closer to the music, then I certainly won't complain.

[Florestan]

I don´t claim that every piece of music has, or should have, a program. I don´t even make my own program for each and every piece I hear. More often than not, I don´t. But I can surely tell that this piece here, or part of a piece, is sad, that other one joyful,; this one is passionate and turbulent, that other one serene and tranquil; I surely recognize sorrow when I hear it, or pain, or melancholy, or yearning, or happiness, or love, or despair, or resignation, or triumph or whatever. And I have big difficulties in believing, or being persuaded, that the emotional content which is so obvious to me (and in many cases not only to me) is just an accidental result, an unintended consequence, of someone´s combining sounds as s/he best sees fit without any other consideration, and it is irrelevant to the music itself.

[Monsieur Croche]

I'm going to come back to this bit specifically to say something further.

Again, you basically are claiming that composers stumble over the emotional content of their work as a result of "staying on track".

There are two problems with this. One, I've already referred to, is that you think I am arguing that Sibelius sat down and said "I am going to write a tragic piece". I'm not arguing that at all. Maybe it's one of the cases where a composer sat down with that kind of purpose, but I don't know that. I don't recall seeing a quote to that effect.

The other problem is one that I've previously raised and which you still haven't addressed. If composers simply stumble over these things all the time, then how do we ever end up with sets of contrasting works? Suppose that Brahms' Festival Overture was literally an accident of happiness. How, then, did he manage to produce a Tragic Overture to go with it? How did Beethoven manage to get op.24 to contrast with op.23 (they were supposed to be presented as a single opus, by the way, the separate numbers are the result of a printing issue)? How did Brahms get his op.26 piano quartet to contrast with his op.25 piano quartet?

Heck, how did anyone manage to create multi-movement pieces where the mood of the 2nd movement contrasts with the mood of the 1st? Is it all just by accident?

This is what you essentially propose. You propose that a composer diligently works the material out, stays on track... and that whether the music comes across as joyous or tragic or heroic or whatever words are used to approximate the impression it gives, is just an accidental result of working out the material.

I'm sorry but that's just ludicrous.

Sticking with the accident premise, I still maintain when it comes to composing, a lot of accident is very much what does happen. And choose not to believe it, but it is not ludicrous if you're adventurous enough to abandon verbal, literal, and lineal thought. Bear with me, please.

After LOTS of practice writing, the composer will have more specific experience in -- necessarily qualified "for them" -- what works, what doesn't, what just might be generally evocative of a general emotion, at least, and then becomes better versed in that. Then, I believe they can more deliberately and willfully command the direction the piece takes.

If you think of any hundreds of sonatas and symphonies, with so many of those not really having any solid compositional device binding the three movements together, it is a nearly certain conclusion that even there, the contrasts of mood, color and tempo [in a work perhaps not so specific as to emotional color and more 'absolute' and formal], that some heavy duty intuition based upon all that prior experience is at work. Otherwise, those three or four movements, outwardly somewhat 'arbitrarily' connected, would not feel connected. Sometimes, all it takes is that the same person was writing, in 'one session,' the three movements, i.e. perhaps the perceived flow might not have felt as connected if the composer had written the opening and closing movements and returned a year later to 'fit in' the middle movement. Relationships of the movements' key signatures [or pitch-centric if atonal], the meter, rhythm, all help to 'connect' what is otherwise truly non-related material.

Too, we have the semiotic veins of association to mine, of minor with 'sad/dark' and major with 'happy/light,' etc.
So, write a contrasting piece, hmmm....
Use small intervals in piece 'B' where piece 'A' used large intervals.
Use major or minor in opposition to the mode of the other piece.
Use a related meter, with the other elements contrasting. There are both connection and distinction.
Use a different meter.
Use relatively disjunct lines in piece 'A' and then conjunct lines in piece 'B.'
Use generally longer phrases in one piece, then shorter and more frequently aspirated phrasing
There are a lot of ways to go about this without waiting for the proverbial bolt of inspirational mystical lightning to strike, or knowing any more specifically 'what you want to express.' And then, yes, 'you run with it.'

Unless one is the composer, there is no telling how much 'they were into it.' I must say, that once composing or performing is your profession, it is hard and cold fact that when required to perform or compose to a deadline, you will not always,"feel like it or be into it." And... that is where, especially, you are just f★★★'d if you do not have a mega arsenal of technique and 'the craft' at your disposal.
"The craft" is what carries a composer through the problematical or 'uninspired' parts of a piece. "The craft" is what carries a performer who does not at all feel like performing a specific piece as programmed to render a performance which the paying audience has a right to expect, fully present, plugged in, 'communicative,' etc. The craft can actually get the not engaged composer or performer back to being fully engaged. If learned well enough and applied, no player or audience member will ever know where inspiration left off and craft took over, whether it was but one measure, an entire segment, a whole movement.

Imagine a sustained emotional context or inspiration which holds constant and steadfast over the period of up to nine months it can take to, daily and full-time, bring a thirty-minute long symphonic composition to completion. That just does not happen. That is where the craft comes in.

There is also a generally accepted tenet born of generations of experience: if you are going to compose a piece 'expressing tragic,' you yourself are much better off achieving that aim while being personally at the furthest remove from feeling or experiencing anything 'tragic.' This is less true or somewhat moot if writing something ebullient and 'happy,' though some remove from what is being expressed is always well-advised. All this is the opposite of the notion that composers are inspired throughout working on a piece [inspiration is usually no longer than a nano-second] and sit down and pour the emotion ultimately felt by the listener into each and every note as they write.

This is a bit of fun: both the baroque doctrine of emotions and minor=sad, major=happy were tossed out the window and turned upside down, to do the opposite of their known and expected semiotic -- in a masterly and completely successful way -- by Handel in his L'allegro where he set texts by Milton. [So much for any of the known bits most usually associated with 'x' emotion or mood being any sort of concrete constant.

OF COURSE, composers 'put emotion' in about every piece they write. They're people, not without emotions, and being so well-versed in music, there is an inevitable result of their application where some part of them enters the piece, i.e. what they make comes from them and has, in some measure, at least a bit of 'their soul.' Hippie-dippie, mystical, maybe 'romantic,' but pretty much real, and nothing much provable or to talk about, either, which is why I've left off including it until now.
--- For me, 'the composer is in the piece no matter what,' is a basic given. That is one reason why wanting more specific detail about that really confounds me, i.e. 'emotion and intent' are embedded in just about every piece of music ever written, across all genres, whether the composer is finding their way or has full command of the piece before they first set pen to manuscript paper. Past that, I find it both intriguing and a little silly that people seem to be so busy with it. I.e. if there is a piece of music, intent and emotion are "just there".

P.s. The above is, I think, as close to bringing this 'inside' of an answer to your question as I can get. I hope it will suffice.

Best regards.