Analytic Comparison Franchomme Piatti PDF

U
UNIVERSITY OF CINCINNATI
Date: February 26, 2009
I, Fang-Yi Shen ,
hereby submit this original work as part of the requirements for the degree of:
Doctor of Musical Arts
in Violoncello Performance
It is entitled:
A Pedagogical and Analytic Comparison of
Auguste Franchomme's Twelve Caprices, Op. 7 and
Alfredo Piatti's Twelve Caprices, Op. 25
Student Signature:
Fang-Yi Shen
This work and its defense approved by:
Committee Chair:
Dr. David C. Berry
Dr. Jonathan Kregor
Prof. Lee Fiser
Approval of the electronic document:
I have reviewed the Thesis/Dissertation in its final electronic format and certify that it is an
accurate copy of the document reviewed and approved by the committee.
Committee Chair signature: Dr. David C. Berry

A Pedagogical and Analytic Comparison of
Auguste Franchomme’s Twelve Caprices, Op. 7 and
Alfredo Piatti’s Twelve Caprices, Op. 25
A thesis submitted to the
Division of Graduate Studies and Research

of the University of Cincinnati
In partial fulfillment of the

requirements for the degree of
DOCTOR OF MUSICAL ARTS (D.M.A.)
In the Performance Studies Division

of the College-Conservatory of Music
2009
by
Fang-Yi Shen
BM, National Taiwan Normal University, 2001

MM, College-Conservatory of Cincinnati, 2004
Committee Chairs: Dr. David Carson Berry

Dr. Jonathan Kregor
Prof. Lee Fiser
Abstract
The etude has a long history in the cello repertoire, evidenced by the volume of
pedagogical works in the form of etudes, exercises, studies, and concert etudes available today.
The sets of 12 Caprices by Franchomme and Piatti are concert etudes which are studied and
performed frequently today. Selected works of these two standard etude books have been
examined and analyzed, with regard to technical issues and issues of musicality.
This document focuses on the these two books, exploring the history of the cello
techniques covered, explaining aspects of the music from a Schenkerian point of view,
comparing the similarities and differences in technique and compositional style, and integrating
aspects of performance and analysis. Professional players and students can use the information
provided in this document to help in understanding the value of the two books, the evolution of
cello technique in the nineteenth century, and the different compositional styles. Based on the
shift in technical demands that evolved during the second half of the nineteenth century, cello
players would be able to know when to study these two etudes. This document can provide the
performer with a new analytical perspective, one that can enhance performance.
iii
Copyright (c) 2009, Fang-Yi Shen
Acknowledgements
My interest in Auguste Franchomme and Alfredo Piatti stems from first playing
their music when I was fifteen years old. Assuming that both composers were from
different nations and they spent their life and career in England, little did I realize the
extent of their contributions to cello techniques and the cello repertoire. While studying
with Prof. Lee Fiser at the University of Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music
(CCM), I was drawn to a variety of cello techniques by Piatti’s Twelve Caprices, Op. 25.
Thanks to his instruction and others, I got the opportunity to get a better understanding of
the history of the nineteenth-century cello techniques and repertoire.
I am very grateful for the opportunity to study in the United States for these seven
years, especially pursuing my mater and doctoral studies at the CCM under a full
university scholarship. I have learned a lot about music, cello and some other things
about life, particularly the last two years of my studies having the second cognate in
music theory. Without the help of Dr. David Carson Berry and Dr. Steven Cahn, I could
not have finished all the requirements of a cognate within two quarters.
Dr. David Berry, who is my advisor, gave unbelievable support and offered his
expert knowledge throughout every stage of the process. Before I started to do research
for this document, I had very little ability to do the Schenkerian analysis and to use Finale
music notation software. With the guide from Dr. Berry, I became very familiar with
them. I would like to thank him for his time, patience, excellent teaching and professional
knowledge. Prof. Lee Fiser, my cello professor at the CCM, has taught me many things
about cello playing, including techniques and musicality. His emphasis on the body
iv
relaxation has freed me from physical tension, which I have been pursuing for the last ten
years. Thanks for his extreme patience, support and wonderful teaching.
Dr. Kregor, who is my reader, gave me a different view about performance and
analysis, so that I came up the last chapter about integration of performance and analysis.
His expert editing and coaching abilities along with his remarkable suggestions about
writing broadened my research, in which my benefit extended to combine performance
and theory. I also greatly appreciate the friendship and encouragement of my classmates
and colleagues during my studies, especially Stephen Brown.
Last but not least, special thanks for my family for unconditional love and support,
and for being proud of me, even though so many unexpected life dramas happened in
these seven years while I pursued my master and doctoral degrees in music. They have
been very supportive for all of my decisions, especially the fact that I got the second
cognate (music theory) during my last year of my doctoral study.
I could not have accomplished my document without the support and help from
these people. I feel very lucky to have these generous people in my life. There is no word
to describe how grateful I am. This seven-year American life had made me more
complete as a cellist, and as a human being.
February 2009
Cincinnati, OH
v
Table of Contents
Chapter One: Etude ……………………………………………………………………………….1

Definition …………………………………………………………………………………1
The Development of Cello Techniques .………………………………………..................4
Types …………………………………….…………………………………….................12
Figures …………………………………………………………………………………...15
Chapter Two: The Biographies of Franchomme and Piatti ……………………………………..16

Franchomme …………………………………………………………………………….16
As a Composer …...……………………………………………………...............16
Association with the Contemporary Musicians ……..……………….………….17
Music ………………………………………….…………………………………18
Piatti …………………………………………………………………………………….20
Life at the Conservatory in 1830s ………………..………………………………21
Connections with the Contemporary Musicians …………………………………22
Orchestra Life …………………………….……………………………24
Performance Life at London from 1847 to 1890s ……………………..25
Performing Piatti’s Own Works ……….……………………………….26
Honorary Diploma ………………….……….………………………….27
Critics ………………………………..……….…………………………27
Music ………………………………..……….………………………….28
Figures ……………………..…………………….……….……………………………...29
Chapter Three: Performance Aspect …………………………………………………………….41

Observation of Advanced Etudes by Franchomme and Piatti ……………..……………41
Techniques of the Right Hand ……………………………..……………………………43
Detache ………………………………………………………………………….43
Legato …………………………………………………………………………...44
Staccato ……..………….………………………..………………………………45
Spiccato ………………………………………….………………………………47
Martele …………………………………………..……………………………….48
Ricochet ………………………………………….………………………………49
Chord …………………………………………….………………………………50
Techniques of the Left Hand ………………..…………………….………..……………51

Fingering ……………………………….…..……………………………………..52
Position Establishment ……………………………………………………………53
Neck Position ……….……………….…………………………..53
Thumb Position ……………………………….…………………53
Double Stops ………………………………………..……………………………56
Harmonics ……………………………………..………………………………….57
vi
Pizzicato ………………………………………..…………………………………59
Classification of the Left and Right Hand in the Etudes of Franchomme …….......….…62
Classification of the Left and Right Hand in the Etudes of Piatti ….………………...….64
A synthesis of two Caprices, Op. 7 and Op. 25 …………………….……….……..……66
Conclusion ……........……………….,,,,,,,…………………….……………....…………68
Figures ………………..…………………………………….……………………………69
Chapter Four: Analysis of Selected Works by Franchomme and Piatti …...……………………86

Comparison of Franchomme’s 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 9 and Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25,
No. 6 ……………………………………………………………………………….…….88
Franchomme’s 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 9 ………………………………….........88
The Relation of the Minor Third – the Relative Mediant ……..………...89
Voice Leading: The Chromatic Descending Line with Motivic
Parallelism ……………………………………………………………….91
Some Other Techniques ………..………………………………………..95
Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 6 ………………………………………...……99
A Succession of Minor Thirds ……………….…………………………..99
Modal Mixture …………..………………………………………………102
The Relationship of “Leads” and “Follows” ……………..……………..104
The Function of the Neighbor Note ………………………..….………...105
Implied Note ………………………………………………….…………105
Conclusion of Franchomme’s No.9 and Piatti’s No. 6 ...………..……………..107
Comparison of Franchomme’s 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 1 and Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25,
No. 1 ……………………………………………………………………………………108
Franchomme’s 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 1 ………………………………………108
Omnibus Progression …………………………………………………..108
The Movement of the Kopfton, D/ Register Transfer …………….....…109
Chromatic Thirds and the Relationship of thirds ………………………110
Subordinate Linear Progression with Motivic Parallelism ………….....111
Form: Modified Binary Form ………………………………………….112
Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1 …………………………………………….115
Obligatory Register …………………………………………………….115
Prolongation ……………………………………………………………118
Form: Prelude Form ……………………………………………………124
Conclusion ……………………………………………………………..127
Conclusion of Franchomme’s No. 1 and Piatti’s No. 1 ………………………. 128
Figures ………..………………………………………………..……………….129
Chapter Five: Integration of analysis and performance ………………………………………..155

The Opinions of the Past Scholars ………………………………………………..……156
My Own View ………………………………………………………………………….160
Examples ……………………………………………………………………………….163
Franchomme’s 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 9 ……………………………………...163
vii
Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 6 ….…………………………………………163
Franchomme’s 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 1 ……………………………………..165
Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1 …………………………………………….166
Conclusion ….…………………………………………………………………………..167
Figures …………………………………………….……………………………………168
Conclusion …………………………………………………………………………………..... 174
Bibliography ………………………………………………..………………………………….177
Appendix (Music) ………..........................…………………………….………………………184

A. Franchomme: 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 1 ……………………………………………185
A. Franchomme: 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 9 ……………………………………………188
A. Piatti: 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1 …………………………………………………...191
A. Piatti: 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 6 …………………….……..………………………193
viii
Chapter One
Etudes
I. Definition.
An etude is a piece of music composed to develop and cultivate techniques, skills, styles,
and concepts. The French word étude is equivalent to “study” in English. For an instrumental
performer, etudes are a critically essential part of the curriculum. For all the instrumentalists,
their study is necessary to learn about various style periods, to play easily in all keys, to conquer
times signatures and rhythmic patterns, to expand bow control, to master articulation patterns, to
develop left- and right-hand coordination, and to become proficient in various techniques.
Etude is also issued under different names, such as method, exercise, fantasia ricercar,
capriccio/caprice, study, etc. Before 1520, the term “fantasia” already was used as a title in
German keyboard manuscripts, in which the musical context was on the imaginative musical
idea instead of a compositional genre. Later, the compositions still tended to emphasize on the
idea of musical imagination, such as Hermann Finck’s Bona fantasia (1556). Fantasia was
treated as a kind of prelude in Germany and Netherlands of the seventeenth century. Michael
Praetorius (1571 – 1621) once described it as “Of Preludes in their own right.” In the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries, fantasia, ricercar and capriccio were interchangeable with each other.
One of the most important characteristics was that fantasia was free from the restriction of
words1: the composer could express his/her own inspiration without any expression of words.
The musicians of the eighteenth century increased the freedom of fantasia inherited from the
Renaissance and the seventeenth century, in terms of tempo, rhythm, harmony and modulation
(e.g. omission of bar line). The people after 1700 started to view fantasia as a genre that
1
Christopher D.S. Field, et al, “Fantasia,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, 23 Octorber 2008
<http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.proxy.libraries.uc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/40048>.
1
attempted to capture improvisatory elements as well as for didactic materials. For instance, J.S.
Bach’s Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue BWV 903 illustrates the sense of improvisational freedom
by using sudden deceptive cadences, bold modulation, and contrasting moods. Beethoven’s
Choral Fantasy Op. 80 (1808) starts with an improvisatory opening played by the pianist.2 Both
pieces are used for teaching from that time to today. The latter established that Beethoven was
the one who brought fantasia into a more diverse world for the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.
Beethoven maintained and broke traditions by introducing chorus into a form that had been only
used for instruments for the past three-hundred years.3 The fantasia works after 1800s involved
with more folk melodies, quotations from operas, descriptive landscapes, etc. This genre also
reflected Romantic and modern spirit with different instrumentations, as in works by Schubert
(Wandererfantasie for piano solo, 1822), Chopin (Fantasy on Polish Airs for piano with
orchestra, 1828), Schumann (Fantasia in C, Op. 17, 1836 – 1838), Liszt (Fantasie und Fuge über
den Choral Ad nos, ad salutarem undam for organ, 1850), Vaughan Williams (Fantasia on
Greensleeves for orchestra and band, 1934), and Schoenberg (Phantasy, Op. 47 for violin and
piano, 1949).4
Ricerare was originally used for a prelude-like piece for lute or keyboard instrument, very
similar with fantasia. The earliest appearance of ricercare was connected with ‘troubadour’ and
‘trouvère’, and then it reappeared again in J.S. Bach’s two-part inventions. Several early authors
defined ricercare as a fugal form with imitative texture, such as in Vincenzo Galilei’s Dialogo
(1581) and Michael Praetorius’ Syntagma musicum, iii (1618), but the essence of ricercare
2
Don Michael Randel, The New Harvard Dictionary of Music (Cambridge, Massachusetts, London:
Harvard University Press, 2003), 306 – 08.
3
Field, “Fantasia.”
4
Randel, The Harvard Dictionary of Music, 306 – 08.
2
changed to a preludial function without imitation in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
Girolamo Frescobaldi (1583 – 1643) achieved organ ricercare works, including Ricercari et
canzoni (1615) and Fiori musicali (1635). 5 Giovanni Battista Degli Antonii (1660 – 1696)
composed a set of twelve unaccompanied ricercari in 1687. 6 Here the “ricercari” suggests
instructive pieces or etudes. During the time of J.S. Bach, ricercare became a piece with
monothematic character; his Art of Fugue would be an example.
Capriccio is a composition filled with imagination or humor. It usually has more contrasts
in the conventions of harmony and counterpoint (hardverd).7 The term “capriccio” had different
aspects. First, it was treated as a musical composition in the madrigal cycle of Orlando furioso
(1561) by Jacquet de Berchem. Then, it became instrumental pieces, which can be seen in some
ensemble works written by Ottavio Bariolla and Paolo Fonghetto.8 Some capriccios, which were
regarded as a precursor of the fugue, contained contrapuntal textures with fugal subject and short
sections with repetition. Italian keyboard composers were famous for this type, including
Giovanni Maria Trabaci, Ascanio Mayone, and G. Frescobaldi. M. Praetorius implied such
pieces very similar to fantasias in his Syntagma musicum. Some other capriccios employed the
concept of program.9 One of the famous pieces was Bach’s Capriccio on the Departure of his
Most Beloved Brother, BWV 992 (1704). This piece uses not only fugal writing, but also
imitation of sounds of the post horn. After 1730, the composers began to compose capriccios
5
6
Elizabeth Cowling, The Cello (New York: C. Scribner's Sons Press, 1983), 77.
7
Wendy Thompson and Jane Bellingham,“capriccio,” The Oxford Companion to Music, Ed. Alison
Latham, Oxford Music Online, 22 Feb. 2009.
<http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.proxy.libraries.uc.edu/subscriber/article/opr/t114/e1159>.
8
9
Bellingham, “capriccio.”
3
with free tempo and cadenza character. For instance, Pietro Locatelli’s 24 Capriccios for violin
(1733) are a set of virtuoso technical etudes in all keys. Niccolò Paganini’s 24 Caprices, Op. 1
(1805) showed an exploration of violin techniques. Alfredo Piatti wrote a set of twelve caprices
for cello in 1875.10 These capriccios spawned in the demanding of technical virtuoso as well as
on the performance stage.
Musical studies have been composed since the eighteenth century. Etude can be
represented in various names after the nineteenth century. The composers recognized more
possibilities in the genre of etude. Frédéric Chopin (1810 – 1849) was the one who transformed
etude into concert pieces. His Twenty-Four Etudes, Op. 10 and 25 (in two sets of 12 each)
require a high amount of skill from the pianist, and are considered some of the most difficult
pieces composed for the piano. Etudes can be in many forms and are sometimes grouped into
larger schemes. For example, Études symphoniques by Robert Schumann (1810-1856) bears the
title, which was revised in 1852 with the title Études en forme de Variations.11 This set of piano
pieces consists of twelve variations and a finale.
II. The Development of Cello Techniques.
Cello techniques developed from the violin family in the middle of the seventeenth
century. The cello techniques were similar to those of viola da gamba in the seventeenth and
eighteenth centuries. By the beginning of the eighteenth century, the gamba players started to
abandon their instrument in favor of the cello.13 Some players were even proficient on both
10
Randel, The Harvard Dictionary of Music, 149.
11
Randel, The New Harvard Dictionary of Music, 301.
13
William Pleeth, Cello, ed. Nona Pyron (New York: Schirmer Books Press, 1982), 234 – 35.
4
instruments. In the end of the eighteenth century, two facts stimulated the evolution of the cello
techniques: the increasing popularity of the cello and the “Tourte-design bow” created in 1785.14
(The Tourte’s bow is also known as “the Stradivari of the bow”, designed by François Xavier
Tourte (1747/1748 – 1835). The Tourte’s bow is made from the selected pernambuco wood,
setting in a moderate heat for curvature.15) The cello appeared to be a popular instrument for
music-making in the home by people of all classes. In 1846, the adjustable endpin16 started to be
included in the cello playing. (The endpin is a device extendable from the bottom of a cello that
makes contact with the floor and helps the player to secure the position. It is made of metal, or in
some cases wood or carbon fiber, and secured with a thumbscrew.) The Tourte-design bow led to
various bow techniques, and the adjustable endpin resulted in more stable playing that produced
greater freedom and sonority.
Cello techniques have been closely tied to how the cello is held, which is largely divided
into three postures. In the seventeenth century, the cello was placed vertically, low between the
performer’s legs on the floor or on a stool, so that the left hand’s technique only reached to the
neck position (the fourth position). The left-hand techniques included position change,
expanding and contracting, and double stops, in which the thumb is placed on the neck to support
the rest of fingers. In the eighteenth century, the players began to place the instrument between
their knees, supporting it with their calves. Because the position of the cello rose, the contact
point of the string and bow was higher than that of the seventeenth century, resulting to the point
that the player could use the entire length of the bow. The thumb was not only placed in the
14
Valerie Walden, One Hundred Years of Violoncello: a history of technique and performance practice,
1740-1840 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 62.
15
Paul Childs, “Tourte,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, 11 Oct. 2008
<http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.proxy.libraries.uc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/28231pg3>.
16
Walden, One Hundred Years of Violoncello, 51.
5
fourth position, but also in the higher positions, which meant that the use of the thumb was more
flexible. The last stage happened in the nineteenth century. Due to the adjustable endpin, the
cello techniques moved to a higher level: the refinement of the position change, double stops,
and the innovation of harmonic and artificial harmonics.
The earliest cello method book may be traced to Johann Sebald Triemer’s (1700 – 1762)
Elementary Theory and Rudiments of Playing the Violin and Violoncello, published in 1739 in
Amsterdam. 17 About the same period, Michel Corrette (1707 – 1795) also wrote a flood of
method books for different instruments, including Methode de la flute traversière (1735),
Méthode pour apprendre facilement à jouer du par-dessus de viole à 5 et à 6 cordes avec des
leçons, 1–2 descant viols (1748), Le berger galant, méthode contenant les veritables principes
pour apprendre facilement à jouer de la flûte à bec (1784),18 and so on. One of his method books,
Méthode théorique et pratique pour apprendre en peu de tems le violoncelle dans sa perfection
(1741) has 46 pages and contains not only exercises but also verbal descriptions about how to
play cello. Also, there was two more works which couldn’t be traced the date: a set of 98 short
“Lexione” (lessons) and “Lexione” of 44 short pieces composed by the cellist as well as
composer, Antonio Caldara (1671? – 1736).19 None of them include any verbal explanations or
studies. However, each lesson consists of figured-bass accompaniment. The whole collection
integrates the devices that the cellists of the period used. After these method books, there are no
methods published until the late eighteenth century.
17
Cowling, The Cello, 73.
18
David Fuller and Bruce Gustafson, “Corrette, Michel,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, 11
Oct. 2008 <http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.proxy.libraries.uc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/06563>.
19
Cowling, The Cello, 73.
6
In the seventeenth century, the violoncello served as an ostinato accompaniment
instrument. The requirements for playing the music at that time were very rudimentary. The
violoncello had found its place as an orchestral instrument in the 1680s at Vienna.20 In the
second half of the eighteenth century, Luigi Boccherini’s (1743 – 1805) compositions gave more
important obligations to violoncello. The violoncello plays not only accompaniment figures but
also melody configurations. Although there were some books about cello techniques in the
eighteenth century, this genre rapidly grew. A number of teaching materials that aimed at the
amateur and the professional were brought out in the nineteenth century.
The cello repertoire was very extensive in the nineteenth century, although many
manuscripts do not survive today. The composers and instrumentalists in the period produced a
great deal of music for cello. The following etude books form a cornerstone of the repertoire for
students today. They begin with Jean-Louis Duport’s (1749 – 1819) cello treatise Essai sur le
doigté du violoncelle et sur la conduite de l’archet in 1806. It was followed by Bernard Heinrich
Romberg’s (1767 – 1841) A Complete Theoretical and Practical School for the Violoncello in
1840. Duport specified idiomatic cello technique, distinct from the influences of the viola da
gamba and violin. His methodology of sequential, diatonic fingerings for note patterns in all keys
became fundamental to many subsequent players.21 These 21 exercises have appeared in several
modern editions, including those by Simrock and International. Duport's etudes usually have
contrasting thematic material and the rhythmic patterns are often varied within each etude.
Musically, the contents reflect his understanding of the extent to which material can be pushed
from the end of the Classical to the beginning of the Romantic periods. Most of the etudes have
20
Wilhelm Joseph von Wasielewski, The Violoncello and its History, ed. Isobella S. E. Stigand (New York,
Da Capo Press, 1968), 1 – 42.
21
Mary Cyr and Valerie Walden, “Duport,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, 11 Oct. 2008
<http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.proxy.libraries.uc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/08356pg2>.
7
specific dynamic markings, and the techniques of both thumb and neck positions occupy a large
proportion of the book. Duport revealed his distillation on fingering for the chromatic scale with
1 – 2 – 3 – 1 – 2 – 3 fingerings.22
Romberg’s book includes not only exercises, but also verbal descriptions, including cello
techniques (e.g., staccato, double stops, harmonics), musical terms (e.g., da capo), and music-
theory aspects (e.g., various clefs, cadence). A lot of exercises contain two cello parts, which are
efficient for teaching. Besides G. B. D. Antonii’s 12 ricercari, Domenico Gabrielli (1659 – 1690)
had a collection containing seven ricercari for violoncello solo, which he intended to play on a
four-stringed cello tuned C2 – G2 – D3 – G3.23 Josef Merk (1795 – 1852) dedicated his Twenty
Exercises, Op. 11 (1834) to Franz Schubert (1797 – 1828). In turn, Chopin wrote the Polonaise
Brillante op.3 (1829 – 1830) for Merk when Merk visited Vienna in 1829.24 Half of his Twenty
Exercises, Op. 11 begin with a slow section. The whole collection is in various forms consisting
of variation, scherzo, and prelude.
The Violoncello Method of Friedrich August Kummer (1797 – 1879) was of more
practical significance than the Violoncello Studies of Friedrich Dotzauer (1783 – 1860).
Kummer’s book starts with 2-page statements about how to hold the instrument, the gesture of
left and right hand, and how to tune the cello; this is followed by over one hundred exercises.
The book also includes three-octave scales with fingerings. Each new topic always begins with a
statement. The method is interesting for its systematic exposition and progressive nature of
certain statements. On the other hand, Dotzauer’s book does not have any word descriptions.
22
Ozan Tunca, “Cello Etude Books in Popularity Contest: The Most Commonly Used,” American String
Teacher (August, 2004): 56.
23
Cowling, The Cello, 77 – 8.
24
John Moran, “Merk, Josef,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, 11 Oct. 2008
8
Each etude focuses on only one technique, resulting to a very regular and dreary phrase structure.
Grützmacher's Twenty-Four Etudes, Op. 38 (publication date unknown) are published in two
volumes. There is a huge difference between these volumes in terms of technical difficulty.
Edmund Sebastian Joseph van der Straeten (1855 – 1934) describes the first volume as being
perhaps useful for “the student of moderately advanced technique” and describes the second
volume as being “in many instances overlade with difficulties of a transcendental nature….
Paganini-like feats [useful for] the virtuoso.”25 Grützmacher's later set of twelve etudes, his Op.
72 (publication date unknown), does not make a contribution to the advancement of cello
technique. They are easier than Volume One of Op. 38, and like David Popper's High School of
Violoncello Palying, Op. 76 (1901 – 1905), are preparatory for the earlier set. On the other hand,
the exercises of Hugo Becker’s (1864 – 1941) Gemischte Finger- & Bogen-Uebungen nebst
neuen Tonleiter-Studien für Violoncell (Finger- and bow-exercises and new scale-studies for the
violoncello) (publication date unknown) are much shorter than Grützmacher's etudes. This book
focuses on each finger’s exercises, scale studies, spiccato, exercises in thirds and octaves, and
shakes studies (which refer to the finger repetition in different positions). Dotzauer’s One
Hundred and Thirteen Studies for Cello Solo, selected and edited by Johann Klingenberg (a pupil
of Friedrich Grützmacher),26 is however still widely used today. The first two volumes (No. 1 –
62) are intended for the intermediate level and the last two volumes (No. 63 – 113) for advanced
level. This book emphasizes the agility of the left-hand technique and string crossing for the right
hand. However, several techniques are not included, such as sautillé, pizzicato, portato and pique.
25
Edmund S. J. Van Der Straeten, History of the Violoncello, the Viol Da Gamba, their Precursors and
Collateral Instruments (London, William Reeves, 1914), 430.
26
Walsielewski, The Violoncello and its History, 120.
9
Popper wrote three sets of teaching materials for cello: High School of Cello Playing, Op.
73 (1901 – 1905); Ten Medium Difficult Studies, Op. 76 (1907); and Easy Studies for Cello, Op.
76 (1908).27 The most famous of the three was High School of Cello Playing, written to improve
the cellists’ technique problems at that time. One of the etudes, No. 19 “Lohengrin Etude”, came
from the famous Wagner’s opera, Lohengrin. Popper took “a fragment from Act Three, Scene
Three of this opera. When well learned, this study helped the orchestra cellists to perform the
repeating figure in the first hundred and eleven measures in the score with ease.”28 Not only No.
19 etude, but also No. 5 used were influenced by Wagner’s opera, in which Popper made use of
the same rhythmic motive of Wagner’s Walküre Act Three, Scene One.29 Although this etude
covers many aspects of cello playing, they do not explore a wide range of bowing techniques.
The difficulty of the studies does not progress gradually. Several etudes have their special names;
e.g., etude No. 19 is entitled “Löhengrin.” The whole collection seems to feature rhythmic
invariance. Popper uses the same rhythmic motive all the way through each etude. For Example,
No. 14 “Study in Staccato” (Figure 1.1) is based on sixteenth-note rhythm in a setting of two-bar
unit that combines the first two notes in a slur with the rest of the sixteenth notes are in staccato
for up-bow. There are just a few exceptions: nos. 20 and 39. Also, there is no contrasting
thematic or melodic. The theme usually is repeated over and over, sometimes in bits and pieces,
sometimes in full; it is also placed in strange and unexpected places. One can find the theme an
octave higher or lower, or in a different key.
27
Tunca, “Cello Etude Books in Popularity Contest,” 54.
28
Steven De'ak, David Popper, (Neptune City, N. J.: Paganini Ana Publications, 1980), 262.
29
De'ak, David Popper, 262 – 63.
10
German-American cellist and pedagogue, Alwin Schroeder (1855 – 1928) edited
featuring works of cellists from several different countries into One Hundred and Seventy
Studies (1916) in three volumes30 presenting diverse approach to cello techniques. The studies
were selected and arranged from the works of Bernhard Cossman (1822 – 1910), Dotzauer,
Duport, Auguste Franchomme (1808 – 1884), Grützmacher, Kummer, Sebastian Lee (1805 –
1887), Merk, Piatti, Karl Schroeder (1848 – 1935), and Adrien-François Servais (1807 – 1866).
The topics include left-hand agility, thumb position, position establishment, multiple stops,
octaves, bowing techniques, and left- and right-hand coordination.31 Both Franchomme’s and
Piatti’s Caprices are concert etudes that are played often in performance; these will be described
in more detail later in this document. Most recently the Ten American Cello Etudes (1988) of
Aaron Minsky (b. 1958), a set of pieces based on various styles of American popular music, have
become widely used in performance.
Ozan Tunca conducted a survey on the popularity of cello etudes. The figure 1.2 clearly
displays the popularity of the cello etude books:32 Popper’s High School of Cello Playing, Op. 76
is the most common pedagogical book used by cello teachers. This table is based on a scale of 11,
in which the smaller the number is, the most frequently it is used, and the higher the number is,
the less popular it is. On the other hand, Merk’s Twenty Exercises, Op. 11 is least common out
of ten books. People today use Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25 more often than Franchomme’s 12
Caprices, Op. 7.
30
31
32
11
Figure 1.2: Ozan Tunca’s survey of etudes.
Etude Book scale degree of the Usage Frequency
Popper’s High School of Cello Playing 1.97
Schroeder’s 170 Studies 2.97
Duport’s Essay 4.12
Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25 6.67
Dotzauer’s 113 Studies 7.12
Franchomme’s Etudes 8.85
Franchomme’s 12 Caprices, Op. 7 8.85
Grützmacher’s 24 Etudes, Op. 38 8.61
Servais 9.48
Merk’s 20 Exercises, Op. 11 9.79
Others 10.33
III. Types.
As stated at the beginning of this chapter, the word “etudes” is a general term which
covers a wide range of teaching material. The New Harvard Dictionary of Music divides etudes
into two categories: the exercise and the concert etude.33 It has not been recognized that cello
etudes should in fact be individed into three categories: the method book, the exercise or study,
and the concert etude.
The method book contains not only short exercises, but also descriptive words about how
to execute the technique, such as Méthode théorique et pratique pour apprendre en peu de tems
33
Randel, The Harvard Dictionary of Music, Etude, 301.
12
le violoncelle dans sa perfection by Corrette written in 1741. This book deals primarily with
elementary cello technique. It starts off with scales, then moving on to arpeggios and double
stops. But what sets this book apart is its detailed written instructions on how to practice and use
the exercises, so one could say this is more like a manual for cello technique. Joseph
Bonaventure Tillière’s (1750 – 1790) Méthode pour le violoncelle contenant tous les principes
nécessaires pour bien jouer de cet instrument divides exercises into different lessons. Each
lesson deals with a particular technical issue. For example, Lesson 1 deals with drawing a
straight bow, whereas Lesson 15 focuses on string crossing.
The exercise or study is usually presented in a very short length covering a specific
technique without musical aspects, and can be as short as possible, ranging from one to several
measures. For instance, Otakar Sevcik’s (1852-1934) Violin Studies, Op. 9 (publication date
unknown) is a comprehensive collection of preparatory exercises in double stops on the violin.
These fifty-eight exercises give the most versatile approach to playing chords, harmonies and
pedals. The book includes extensive guidance and performance notes in Italian, French, German,
and English. Sevcik also composed several other exercise books for cello techniques, including
Thumb Placing Exercises, Op. 1, School of Bowing Technique, op. 2, and Changes of Position
and Preparatory Scale Studies, op. 8. His School of Bowing Technique (publication date
unknown) contains six volumes and every exercise has its own topic. It is always arranged with a
long exercise about 20-30 bars and a great number of one-measure exercise. The title of No. 6 is
“study in eighth notes with 214 changes of bowing styles.” The first exercise is only about eighth
notes for 33 measures followed by 214 one-measure exercise with various bow styles.
The concert etude incorporates one or more techniques and musical possibilities. This
genre focuses on techniques as well as rhythms, harmonies, styles, etc. Although musical
13
considerations can be made in the exercise, it is one of the essential elements for the concert
etudes. The exercise books are usually published with certain title, such as fantasies and caprices,
while the concert etudes are published in systematical sets in one volume. 34 For instance,
Cossmann’s Concert Studies, Op. 10 (1870) have only five etudes and each one is very long with
colorful harmonies. The first etude (Figure 1.3) is about melodic arpeggiations with whole bow,
demonstrating the character of the concert etude. Both Franchomme’s and Piatti’s 12 Caprices
belong to this catalog with beautiful melodies. These two sets of etudes will be discussed more
later.
34
Sally O’ Reilly, “Getting a Jump on Advanced String Techniques,” The Instrumentalist 49 (October
1994): 36.
14
Figures of Chapter One
 Figure 1.1: David Popper’s High School of Violoncello Playing, Op. 76, No. 14.
 Figure 1.3: Bernhard Cossmann’s Concert Studies, Op. 10, No. 1.
15
Chapter Two
The Biographies of Auguste Franchomme and Alfredo Piatti
A. Auguste Franchomme.
Auguste Franchomme, like Alfredo Piatti, was one of the most distinguished cellists and
pedagogues of the nineteenth century. He was born in 1808, and began studying cello at age
twelve in 1820.1 By 1821, he already won his first competition.2 First he studied with M. Mas at
the Lille Conservatoire, continuing his studies at the Paris Conservatoire under Jean Henri
Levasseur, and after with Louis Pièrre Norblin at the Paris Conservatoire. He became very active
playing for several prestigious music companies, including the Théâtre de l’Ambigu-Comique in
1825 – 1826, the Opéra in 1827, the Théâtre Italien as well as the royal chapel in 1828, and
Napoleon III’s court orchestra in 1853.3 From 1846 until the end of his life, he was a cello
professor at the Paris Conservatoire. His pupils included Charles Lebouc, Leon Jacquard,
Hyppolite Rabaud, Jules Delsart, Louis Vidal, and Cros Saint-Ange.4
I. As a Composer.
In addition to being an opera and orchestra player (and chamber music player), he was
also a composer of more than fifty works for cello, with piano or with orchestra. His music has a
poetic cantilena style and is very expressive, perhaps revealing the influence of his friend Chopin.
Few pieces are still being played today, however. Among the best known are the Cello Concerto;
1 Valerie Walden, “Franchomme, Auguste,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, 30 Jan. 2009
2 Lev Solomonovich Ginsburg, History of the Violoncello (Neptune City, N.J.: Paganiniana Publications,
1983), 83.
3 Walden, “Franchomme, Auguste.”
4 Ginsburg, History of the Violoncello, 84.
16
Twelve Caprices, Op. 7; Variation for Violoncello and Piano in G major, Op. 4, and ... in F
major, Op. 3; and Fantasies on the themes from these four operas: Grétry’s Richard Coeur de
Lion, Mozart’s Don Giovanni, Rossini’s Semiramida, and Bellini’s Norma.5 Elizabeth Cowling
mentioned, “All of the literature mentioned above (which includes some concertos, cello
methods, daily exercises written by the composers from Bernard Romberg (1767 – 1841),
Friedrich Dotzauer (1783 – 1860) to David Popper (1843 – 1913). Both sets of 12 Caprices by
Franchomme and Piatti were one of them.) is outmoded for recital use today although it will
continue to interest the music historian.” This proves that these pieces were popular for the
concert repertoire at that time.
II. Association with Contemporary Musicians.
Franchomme founded several musical organizations, including the “Matinées Annuelles
de Quatuors” and, the Concerts du Cercle Musical in collaboration with the violinist Delphin
Alard.6 Since he was a member of Alard’s string quartet, he had a chance to meet Charles Hallé,
Ignaz Moscheles, Liszt, and Chopin. During his travel to Paris in 1831, he met Mendelssohn and
then they became close friends. With Chopin Franchomme collaborated composing the Grand
Duo Concertante on themes from Meyerbeer’s Robert le Diable in 1836 (in which he wrote most
cello parts by himself) and the Polonaise Brillant Op. 3.7 Chopin also wrote a cello sonata for
Franchomme, and a record showed Chopin’s work progress in the end of 1845 when he wrote a
letter to his family in Warsaw:
5
Ginsburg, History of the Violoncello, 84
6
Walden, “Franchomme, Auguste.”
7
Jim Samson, “Review: Cello Sonata; Grand Duo Concertante; Introduction and Polonaise by Frederick
Chopin,” Early Music 8, no. 4 (October 1980): 573.
17
“Now I would like to finish the Sonata for violoncello, the Barcarolle, and something else
that I do not know how to name, but I doubt weather I will have time, for already the bustle
begins.”8
In the cellist’s own inscribed copy of this work, which is in the National Library in Paris,
there is a notice: “The violoncello part of the sonata for piano and cello by Chopin is written by
me according to his dictation. Franchomme.”9 Chopin spent two years composing this sonata,
and Franchomme premiered it in the following year 1847. 10 One could therefore say that
Franchomme’s most enduring contribution to the cello literature was his friendship with Chopin.
This resulted in a compositional style similar to that of Chopin.
III. Music.
His Souvenir De Norma: Fantasia sulla Norma di Bellini for Cello and Piano (or Harp)
was written in the 1830s (the first edition of the music was printed in 1837). Souvenir De Norma
recalls some of Bellini’s most famous numbers, especially Act I’s famous “Casta diva” from
Norma: the writing of this piece imitates the singing style of Norma – syllabic and florid style.
Mary Ann Smart has described the style of Norma: “Norma's dominant idiom is mostly syllabic
‘long melody’, but in moments of fury or religious transport she sings floridly (“Oh non tremare,
o perfido” in the Act 1 finale; “Casta diva”).” 11 In Franchomme’s Souvenir De Norma, the
principal theme is long and lyrical in the bel canto style, as can be seen in Figure 2.1 (a, b). Like
8
Jeffery Kallberg, “Chopin’s Last Style,” Journal of American Musicological Society 38, no. 2 (Summer
1985): 268.
9
Ginsburg, History of the Violoncello, 84 – 5.
10
Walden, “Franchomme, Auguste.”
11
Mary Ann Smart, et al, “Bellini, Vincenzo,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, 30 Jan. 2009
18
“Casta Diva”, it has an opening prelude before the theme comes in. The opening of “Casta Diva”
has separate chordal figures provided in Figure 2.2 – a, while that of Souvenir De Norma
contains chords played by cello and piano (Figure 2.1 – a). Once Norma starts to sing Casta Diva,
the orchestra comprises separate chordal figures (Figure 2.2 – b). When Norma sings “Ah! Bello
ame ritorna” (Figure 2.2 – c), the music changes to energetic French dotted rhythm. Franchomme
did the same thing for the Allegro section (Figure 2.1 – c): the piano has the main melody while
the cello offers previous chordal figures for a while. Then the cello moves to all sixteenth notes
while the piano still plays the same French dotted melody, as shown in Figure 2.1 – e, in which
the sixteenth notes symbolize Norma’s fury and anxiety.
The genre of the “Souvenir” also required Franchomme to produce a work of high
virtuosity, which he illustrates in numerous demanding passages. For instance, he made use of
double stops (Figure 2.1 – b), high registers in thumb position (Figure 2.1 – d), staccato (2.1 – e),
and a slurred two-note figure followed by two-note staccato (2.1 – f) – similar techniques appear
in his 12 Caprices, Op. 7 as well. This piece also requires accuracy of position shifting, such as
Figure 2.1 – d. This demonstrates not only Franchomme’s efficient use of cello but also Norma’s
Italian coloratura leaps.
19
B. Alfredo Piatti.
Alfredo Piatti (1822 – 1901) appears to have been one of the most acclaimed cellists of
the nineteenth century, as programs and reviews of his concerts abound in newspapers and other
periodicals from the nineteenth century. He was born to a musician family in Bergamo in
Northern Italy on January 8, 1822. His father, Antonio Piatti, was a musician; and his godfather,
Carlo Bossi, was a well-known organ-builder.12 Although Piatti grew up in a musical family, a
letter published in Illustrazione Italiana in December 1875 indicated that he was not interested in
a musical career. From the age of four, his father forced him to practice the cello ten hours each
day. Because the young Piatti expressed his desire to miss lessons and lead a normal childhood,
his parents sent him away to apprentice with a shoe repairman. Terrified by this new experience,
he swore to his parents he would work as hard as he could as long as they would take him back.13
After one year, his father realized that Piatti needed a cello teacher more professional
than himself. Accordingly, Piatti began studying cello with his great-uncle Gaetano Zanetti, who
played first cello in the opera’s orchestra. Giovanni Simone Mayr (a.k.a. Johann Simon Mayr),
who composed the Variation for Violoncello and Orchestra, wrote a letter to his friend Bonesi,
lauding Alfredo Piatti’s cello playing as outstanding, in both small recitals and as a soloist with
orchestra.14 At that time, Mayr was a composer and central figure in Bergamo musical life, and
later became Piatti’s teacher. There were two opera seasons every year in Bergamo: one at the
Teatro Sociale and another at the Teatro Riccardi. At the age of eight (1830), Piatti performed in
12
Annalisa Barzanò and Christian Bellisario, Signor Piatti (Sir Piatti) (Kronberg: Kronberg Academy
Verlag, 2001), 181.
13
Barzanò and Bellisario, Signor Piatti, 182.
14
20
the orchestra at the Teatro Sociale.15 Child prodigies were fashionable at that time, and Piatti
definitely was one of them, allowing him to enter the professional musical world at a very early
age.
I. Life at the Conservatory in the 1830s.
With the death of Zanetti, Antonio Piatti decided to continue his son’s education in the
Milan Conservatory which provided “twenty-four free places” for poor students. In addition to
the exams for reading, writing and arithmetic, there was one difficult exam for a student’s
aptitude for an instrument, which Piatti passed with minimal effort. While at the Milan
Conservatory, he studied with Mayr who had great influence on him. Piatti was an outstanding
student, which allowed him to participate in the most advanced course, “Academie.” In this class,
the teacher assigned each student a piece to perform in public. In September 1836, Piatti rejected
his teacher’s decision, and with the support of the director, Vaccai, he instead played what he
wanted: variations on one of Paisiello’s arias composed by Piatti himself. On this occasion, the
governor of Lombardy, Conte d’ Hartig, the governor of Lombardy, gave him a fine violoncello
made by Duport.16 An article in the Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung called young Piatti the
“Paganini of the cello” after he gave a performance of the Variations for Violoncello and
Orchestra that he composed.17 After he finished his studies in the Milan Conservatory, he went
back to Bergamo and played in the civic orchestra.
15
16
17
Barzanò and Bellisario, Signor Piatti, 187 – 88.
21
II. Connections with Contemporary Musicians.
His father was very ambitious about his son’s musical career. He contacted the opera
composer, Gaetano Donizetti (also from Bergamo), right after he finished his training at the
Milan Conservatory, and managed Piatti playing in the Theater am Kärntnertor in Vienna where
he played his own fantasia on Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor.18 Both of them soon realized
that the living cost in Vienna was too high to afford. They went back to Bergamo, where Piatti
stayed as an orchestral cellist.
In 1843, Piatti had an opportunity to play with Franz Liszt in Munich. Liszt was already
famous at that time, and the performance received great audience enthusiasm. After his
performances, Alfredo played an expressive composition, “Fantasies on the Themes from the
Final Aria of Lucia.” At first, no one applauded. Then, after a long silence, the audience
applauded so graciously that Liszt and Piatti had to bow three times.19 Such response was very
unusual for an unknown cellist at that time. Liszt was very pleased with Piatti’s playing. Piatti
earned his attention, and Liszt encouraged Piatti to go to Paris. However, the French critics
responded negatively to his few concerts, describing him as a master of cello technique but
lacking elegant expression on stage.20 Piatti was depressed and he composed one of his saddest
compositions, the Chant religieux. 21 In one of the concerts that Piatti gave in Paris, Liszt
generously gave him an Amati cello by Andrea Amati.22 This Amati cello was used by Piatti for
many years.
18
19
20
21
22
22
After Zanetti died in 1830, Piatti was appointed his successor as the lead cellist of the
opera, despite being only eight years old. When he traveled to England and gave his first concert
in London, at Her Majesty’s Theater, critics ranked him immediately as an artist of extraordinary
excellence, and Piatti himself was well pleased with the impression he had made. It was at this
concert that, as Piatti later wrote, “a little fat boy with ruddy cheeks and a short jacket … stepped
on the platform and played the violin.” This was Joseph Joachim (1831 – 1907), whose name
later became closely associated with that of Piatti.23
Immediately before Piatti’s performance that evening, Felix Mendelssohn played
Beethoven's Piano Concerto in G major. After the concert, the pianist Ignaz Moscheles informed
Piatti that Mendelssohn would like to play a sonata with him. When they met at Moscheles’
house, Mendelssohn took out the manuscript of his Cello Sonata in D major and played it with
Piatti. Mendelssohn was so enthusiastic about it that he sent Piatti the following note, “To Mr.
Piatti with many thanks for the great pleasure of playing my sonata with him this morning and
with my sincerest admiration of his great talent.” Soon after, he began composing a concerto for
cello and orchestra, and dedicated it to Piatti when he finished the first movement. Unfortunately,
the manuscript was lost in the mail and Mendelssohn never tried to rewrite or finish the piece.24
Nonetheless, this meeting with Mendelssohn exerted great influence on the remainder of Piatti’s
musical career.25
23
Carlos Prieto, The Adventure of a Cello, trans. Elena C. Murray (Austin: University of Texas Press,
2006), 55 – 61.
24 Dimitry Markevitch, Cello Story, trans. Florence W. Seder (Princeton: Summy-Birchard Music, 1984),
86.
25
23
In 1844, Piatti participated in a series of concerts organized by the pianist Theodor von
Döhler. For the first time, he had the chance to perform a composition for a chamber ensemble in
public, Beethoven’s Trio in C Minor.26 Döhler was satisfied with Alfredo’s playing and offered
him a chance to tour with him in Europe. During their tour, Alfredo performed his two new
compositions: Une Prière and Variations on Lucia di Lammermoor. German critics were
fascinated by him not only because of his warm sound and his graceful technique, but also
because of his precise intonation and his use of double stops. One of the newspapers wrote that
“we have heard Bernard Romberg, Adrien François Servais, Justus Johann Friedrich Dotzauer
and Friedrich Kummer; in every way Piatti competes with these lofty heights; no one can render
the melody better than he can.”27
In 1845, Piatti had an opportunity to play with Servais in St. Petersburg and Moscow.
One of the critics claimed that “the style of the Belgian player is more calculated and stately; that
of the young Italian [Piatti] is more natural and clear. Whoever does not marvel at the fusion of
their incomparable sounds in Romberg’s duets cannot imagine what perfect execution is.”28
III. Orchestra Life.
In 1847, Piatti finally established his reputation to be principal cellist in the most
important orchestra of England, “Her Majesty’s Theatre.” As principal cellist, he participated in
the premiere of Giuseppe Verdi’s I Masnadiere, which was directed by Verdi himself. His
position also allowed him to play with the violinist Joachim in 1852.29 While he was working in
26
27
28
29
24
the orchestra of Her Majesty’s Theatre, he also took offers made by the Musical Union, which
arranged a series of chamber music concerts on Tuesday afternoons every other week. In 1856,
for the first time he played with the pianist Clara Schumann.30 By working for the Musical Union,
he broadened his experience in the catalog of chamber music, especially in the performances of
string quartet.
IV. Performance Life at London from 1847 to the 1890s.
Piatti had a tremendous career in London since 1847. At that time, music was an essential
activity for English people; taking music lessons and hiring musicians to play in homes houses
were very common phenomena. Although music was very popular in England, it was not taken
seriously as an art for its own sake, and typically assumed a subsidiary role. At first, he took part
in many private concerts. As the years went by, however, his participation in private concerts
diminished considerably.
Piatti often played, however, in the many venues dedicated to the networking and
collaboration of musicians, including Amateur Musical Society, Crystal Palace, Sacred
Harmonic Society, Philharmonic Society, and New Philharmonic Society.31 For instance, it was
in the Crystal Palace in 1866 that Piatti performed the Concerto that Sullivan had written
especially for him. Since 1851, Piatti had started to work in the “Sacred Harmonic Society” in
where he only played religious music.32 In 1852, he played Beethoven’s Triple Concerto, op. 56
30
31
32
25
under the director of Hector Berlioz in the New Philharmonic Society.33 In the meantime, he had
the opportunity to perform his own works. For instance, in 1856, 1857 and 1862, he performed
the Concerto, Op. 18, Une Priére, Concerto, Op. 24 and Concerto, Op. 26.34
V. Performing Piatti’s Own Works.
In London around late 1850s and 1860s, the prices of concert tickets depended on the
director. Some musicians like Piatti would not allow high-price tickets to be sold, since high
prices would forbid people who could not afford to go to concert. For this reason, St. James’s
Hall started to provide high-quality concerts with very affordable tickets. They aimed at
educating the audience, so the selection of repertoire was a very important consideration for the
organization of these concerts. In the beginning, only pieces that were deemed comfortable for a
lay audience were featured on the programs. Day by day, the audience became increasingly
familiar with more and more sophisticated music, and more complex pieces were performed.
These were so-called “Popular Concerts.” 35 The pieces appearing on the programs included
Alfredo’s first five Sonatas and some other works by Italian composers, such as Giorgio
Antoniotti, Pietro Locatelli, Benedetto Marcello and Giuseppe Valentini.36
After London, Manchester was the second most musically active environment in England.
The director of “Gentlemen’s Concerts”, Charles Hallé, invited Alfredo to perform there in 1858.
The pieces that Alfredo performed included Pieces in Folk Style by Robert Schumann, Duo
Concertante by Chopin and Franchomme, Triple Concerto, Op. 56 by Beethoven, some cello
33
34
35
36
26
concertos by Georg Goltermann, and many of his own works which he rarely played in
London.37
VI. Honorary Diploma.
In 1889, he played in a concert for fund raising to restore Beethoven’s house in Bonn
where Alfredo received his honorary diploma for his understanding of Beethoven’s works.38 In
fact, he played all of Beethoven’s works for cello during his long career.
VII. Critics.
One of Piatti’s friends commented that “Piatti plays, and the mad become sane. Piatti
plays and the wise go insane.”39 In 1886, he was deemed as “the player with warm displays of
affection and shouts of affectionate greetings” 40 . These successes gave him satisfaction and
started to think about retirement. He began to give opportunities to his pupils, such as William
Whitehouse, David Popper and Hugo Becker. By the mid-1890s, he gave relatively few
concerts.41
Piatti and his caprices continue to influence the history of cello technique and cellists. For
example, a modern cellist, Carlos Prieto (1930), owns a Stradivarius cello “The Piatti” named
after A. Piatti and travels around the world. His first series of concert with the Piatti was at Sala
Manuel Ponce of Mexico City and the Palace of Fine Arts. The program included not only J.S.
37
38
39
40
41
27
Bach’s Suites for Cello Solo and Zoltán Kodály’s Sonata for Cello Solo, Op. 8, but also A.
Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25. Besides, he mentioned this in his own biography:
Although I did not announce this publicly, I included Piatti’s caprices as a personal
tribute to the great Italian cellist who preceded me in the use and enjoyment of this
instrument. Technically, these particular works are extremely difficult, and as I studied
them, I reflected that they were undoubtedly very familiar to my cello, since they had
been often played by their author. I hoped that, as in the case of horses that always find
their way back to the stable, the cello’s familiarity with the caprices would guide me
through the maze of arpeggios and double stops!42
The Caprices have the same value as J.S. Bach’s Suites for Cello Solo in the cello literature. Also,
through the Caprices, people today can explore a variety of cello techniques, including arpeggios
and double stops.
VIII. Music.
Piatti’s study of cello techniques appears not only in his 12 Caprices, but also in his other
works. For example, his first composition, Theme and Variation for Cello and Orchestra, was
written when he was at the Milan Conservatory. He was only fourteenth years old, but he already
managed to play arpeggios (Figure 2.3 – 1), chromatic scale (Figure 2.3 – 2), double stops
(Figure 2.3 – 3), and staccato (Figure 2.3 – 4), as shown in Figure 2.3. In the final stage of
Piatti’s life, he composed “La Corsa” (The Race) in 1894 right after he recovered from his illness.
His eagerness pushed him to write this virtuoso piece and performed in his performance stage,
London. “La Corsa” simply conveyed his eagle towards his career by using staccato stroke.
Although this piece only has one stroke, the range of register is all over the cello fingerboard,
and it also includes double stops, provided in Figure 2.4.
42
Prieto, The Adventures of a Cello, 91 – 2.
28
Figures of Chapter Two
 Figure 2.1: Franchomme’s Souvenir De Norma.

a) Prelude (mm. 1 – 8) and theme (mm. 9 – 16).
29
b) Double stops, mm. 111 – 116.
30
c) Allegro.
31
d) High registers and position shifting, mm. 172 – 179.
32
e) Allegro: sixteenth notes in cello part accompanied the melody in piano part; staccato,
mm. 207 – 212.
f) A slurred two-note figure followed by two-note staccato, mm. 222 – 227.
33
 Figure 2.2: Bellini’s Norma “Casta Diva”
a) Prelude.
b) “Casta Diva.”
34
c) “Fine al rito, e il sacro bosco.”
35
d) Allegro: “Ah! Bello a me riturna.”
36
37
d) “Ah! Bello a me riturna.”
 Figure 2.3: Piatti’s Theme and Variation for Cello and Orchestra.
1) Arpeggio, mm. 41 and 43.
38
2) Chromatic scales, mm. 90 and 94.
3) Double stops (thirds, fifths, sixths, octave), mm. 114 – 121.
4) Staccato, mm. 194 – 201.
39
 Figure 2.4: Piatti’s “La Corsa.”
40
Chapter Three
Performance
I. Observation of Advanced Etudes by Franchomme and Piatti.1
In the cello repertoire as well as across the whole string family, three categories of
method books (and etudes) are used widely by students and professionals alike, to increase their
technical proficiencies. These include studies dealing with the left hand, the right hand, and both
hands simultaneously. Together, these three method types provide the core of a player’s
technique and coordination. Below, I will examine how the topical etudes help develop the
following techniques. For the left hand: (1) fingerings, (2) thumb position, (3) double stops (i.e.,
thirds, fifths, sixths and octaves), and (4) position establishment (i.e., neck and thumb). For the
right hand: (1) detache, (2) legato, (3) staccato, (4) spiccato, (5) martele (martellato), (6)
richochet, and (7) chord.
Franchomme’s and Piatti’s Caprices combine both right-hand and left-hand techniques,
unlike some etude books, which make a separation between left-hand and right-hand issues. For
example, An Organized Method of String Playing, by Janos Starker, focuses on developing the
left hand, including different positions with extension, double stops, and thumb position.
Conversely, Otakar Ševcik’s School of Bowing Technique, Op. 2, concentrates on right-hand
skills. Nevertheless, there are some method books that are similar in nature to the Caprices
written by Franchomme and Piatti, in that they develop both hands at the same time; these
include Justus Friedrich Dotzauer’s 113 Studies; Duport’s 21 Studies; Joseph Mark’s 20 Studies,
1
In my research of the advanced cello etudes by Franchomme and Piatti, I have consulted the following
sources of information (among others): (1) the website of eminent violin pedagogue, Kurt Sassmanshaus
(www.violinmasterclass.com), which features detailed accounts of most of the modern violin techniques that can be
adapted for cello playing; (2) One hundred Years of Violoncello, by Valerie Walden; (3) Essay on the Craft of Cello-
playing, by Christopher Bunting; and (4) The Cellist’s Right Hand: A Guidebook for Pedagogy and Practice, a
DMA document by Jack Erik Anderson.
41
Op. 11; and David Popper’s High School of Cello Playing, Op. 73. During the course of this
section, I shall describe the historical background and definition of each technique, followed by
some examples from Franchomme’s and Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 7 and 25 respectively.
Why should we learn about different bow strokes and their histories? There are several
reasons for investigating these issues:
1. If one knows the definition of bow strokes, one learns the technique more efficiently.
2. Such techniques pushed the cello towards becoming a solo instrument, not just for
accompaniment.
3. Because of the evolution of the techniques, compositions for the cello proliferated. Later
we had the cello concertos of Antonin Dvorak (in B Minor), Edouard Lalo, Edward Elgar,
and so forth.
In order to understand the specific procedures involved in the etudes of Franchomme and
Piatti (to be covered in later chapters), one must first acquire an understanding of the technical
elements of these etudes. Cello technique changed significantly during the course of the
nineteenth century, so to understand the differences in the technical demands of these etudes, one
must gain some understanding of how that are situated in terms of historical development.
Hereafter, I shall discuss the basic bow and finger techniques presented in these sets of
etudes, including their histories and the physical maneuvers necessary to successfully execute
them.
42
I.1 Techniques of the right hand.
(1) Detache.
Detache, the most basic bow technique, refers to the separation of bow strokes; it was
given its name prior to the beginning of the nineteenth century. Throughout the eighteenth and
nineteenth centuries, many great cellists and pedagogues attempted to provide different
definitions for this stroke. For instance, the methods of Michel Corrette (1707 – 1795), Op. 9,
pointed out that “ordinarily one plays the notes by pulling and pushing alternately when the notes
have the same value.”3 A half-century later, Jean-Louis Duport (1749 – 1819) explained that
there are two kinds of detache: one sounds firmer and the other sounds bouncy used in a fast
passage.4 Bernhard Romberg (1767 – 1841) believed that these kinds of strokes are usually used
in light and easy passages of a playful manner. In order to make the bow spring well upon the
strings, it must be used in the middle part of bow, without much pressure. The bow should be
held with the first finger and thumb while the third finger merely leans against the nut without
pressing firmly upon it. The second and fourth fingers should not touch the nut. The length of the
stroke should be no more than a finger’s breadth. This stroke generally does not accompany forte
passages.5
Franchomme’s 12 Caprices, Op. 7, has five pieces that require detache strokes, including
nos. 1, 2, 3, 9, and 10. Due to the character and tempo of each piece, nos. 1, 3 and 10 suggest
“bouncy” detache strokes, and the remainder suggest longer and firmer ones (Figure 3.1). The
3
4
Jean-Louis Duport, Essai sur le doigté du violoncello, et sur la conduite de l’archet (Paris: Janet et
Cotelle, 184-?), 170.
5
Bernhard Romberg, A Complete Theoretical and Practical School for the Violoncello (London: Boosey &
Sons Foreign Musical Library, 19-?), 109.
43
former etudes require a short length of bow in the middle part of the bow, and the latter etudes
require a lot of bow to play out the melody. On the other hand, Piatti’s nos. 1 and 3 are very
different from Franchomme’s. Piatti’s no. 1 is intended for detache near the point of the bow
with a combined forearm and wrist movement, giving more prominent pressure to the lower
notes, which constitute the main melodies. The tone needs to be light in almost ponticello
character. Piatti’s no. 3 involves double-stop detache in the thumb position. These detache
strokes should place the pressure of the bow on the lower string instead of pressing two strings
evenly.
(2) Legato.
The legato stroke appears most commonly in smooth and lyrical passages. This relaxed
stoke requires the absolute minimal amount of tension in the hand. The number of notes per bow
is usually between one and sixteen, but seldom are there more than twelve. Before the nineteenth
century, violoncello bow design prevented cellists from playing more than eight notes per legato
stroke, and requirements for playing eight notes per group were very rare. The norm in that
period was to play a legato grouping of two to four notes.6 In 1785, however, Francois Torte
invented a new bow design with a concave curve, which allowed a more consistent and lengthy
legato. In the twentieth century, composers indicated legato with a slur across several notes. The
degree of legato depends very much on repertory and instrument: for example, the Prelude from
J.S. Bach’s First Cello Suite originally had no slurs or bow indications written in, but twentieth-
century editions suggested legato bowings in the opening, with a slur across the first few notes.
6
44
Performance-practice research suggests that, in Bach’s time, legato was normally reserved for
long notes and slow movements.7
The beginning passage (Figure 3.2) of Piatti’s no. 2 is a sustained and expressive legato
stroke. Although it is a double-stop line, the top melody needs to be played out. The following
groups (Figure 3.3) of a dotted eighth-note with three thirty-second notes require a fully long
legato stroke on the long note. The three little notes should be smoothly touched by the wrist
motion, in order to get the string crossing. In the Allegro section of Piatti’s no. 11 (Figure 3. 4),
the player should use the whole bow for each bar: the lower notes are a long and sustained legato
stroke and the high notes comprise the main melodies. Franchomme’s no. 4 (Figure 3.5) is
similar to Piatti’s no. 7 (Figure 3.6): both are legato strokes with string crossing. If one plays the
notes of triplets together, they are basically chords with emphasis on the lowest notes.
Franchomme’s no. 5 (Figure 3.7) is a special legato etude: each bar has twelve notes, alternating
two strings. The arm should keep the height, as one needs to play double-stops and the wrist and
right fingers are responsible for the alternation of two strings.
(3) Staccato.
The Italian word staccato, which literally means “detached,” indicates that strokes are to
be performed in a separated manner. Friedrich Dotzauer (1783 – 1860) characterized this bowing
as an Italian technique, stating that Italian professors executed separate staccato strokes with a
dry and detached sound.8 Twentieth-century music notation indicates staccato bowing with a dot
7
Geoffrey Chew, “Legato,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, 10 Jan. 2009
8
45
over or under the note; this is different from the more emphatic staccatissimo, which is indicated
by a wedge. As time passed, wider varieties in notation were developed to express the various
nuances of staccato articulation. These included the combinations of dots, vertical and horizontal
dashes, and vertical and horizontal wedges. 9 According to Kurt Sassmanshaus’ terminology,
staccato is a sequence of fast martele strokes in the same bow direction. There are three ways to
produce this stroke: rotation of forearm (pronation will cause the index finger to press the bow
into the string, and the supination will release the pressure), tremolo motion in the wrist (up and
down motion from the wrist with consistent pressure on index finger), and pinching the string
with pressure between index finger and thumb.10 There is a clear distinction between a staccato,
in which the bow remains on the string (with or without a change of bow direction for each note),
and the sautille and spiccato, where the bow leaves the string between each pair of notes.
Franchomme’s no. 12, and Piatti’s nos. 4 and 10 (Figure 3.8), all have a slurred two-note
figure followed by two-note staccato. None of Franchomme’s etudes have a succession of fast
sixteenth notes, but Piatti’s nos. 5 and 12 have this stroke. No. 12 has not only a succession of
fast notes, but also involves chords and harmonics, leading the player to adjust the length of
stroke and the placement of the bow on the string. Because the sequence of fast sixteenth notes
comes after a eighth note, one should consider using a lot of bow to play the eighth note in order
to prepare a group of staccato notes.
9
Geoffrey Chew and Clive Brown, “Staccato,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, 17 Sep. 2008
10
Sassmannshaus, Staccato, www.violinmasterclass.com.
46
(4) Spiccato.
Spiccato is a controlled, off-the-string stroke that produces a clear and non-sustained
articulation. According to Sassmanshaus, this stroke is similar to the detache, but the bow
bounces one or two inches above the string.11 The speed of the spiccato depends upon bow
placement. At the “balance point” the spiccato will be slow, while above the middle of the bow
the speed will increase. The speed can also be controlled by varying the height of the bow above
the string: the higher the bow bounces, the longer the time required for the bow to return to the
string, and therefore the slower the resulting spiccato. The character of the spiccato is influenced
by the tilt of the bow. When using the full bow hair, the bow bounces more and has a shorter
character, while when the bow hair is placed at an angle, the character of the spiccato becomes
mellower and longer. Like the legato, the development of Tourte’s concave bow facilitated the
execution of the spiccato.12
If leggiero is marked with staccato dots over faster passages, performance in a light, swift,
and delicate manner is required. This stroke allows players to release pressure in between strokes,
but without coming off the string. The bow is placed on or just above the mid-point of the bow
with a loose shoulder and arm, managing the quick changes of bow direction with a firm yet
flexible motion in the fingers. 13 Franchomme’s no. 6 mainly focuses on the sixteenth-note
spiccato stroke. It starts with pure sixteenth-note spiccato with leggiero marking and gradually
becomes a four-note slur followed by two-note spiccato (Figure 3.9). When leggiero comes with
staccato dots, one should play this faster passages in a light, swift, and delicate manner. This
11
Sassmannshaus, Spiccato, www.violinmasterclass.com.
12
Straeten, History of the Violoncello, the Viol da Gamba, their Precursors and Collateral Instruments,
195.
13
Jack Erik Anderson, “The Cellist’s Right Hand: A guidebook for Pedagogy and Practice” (D.M.A. diss.,
University of Cincinnati, 2001), 25.
47
stroke allows players to release pressure in between strokes, but without coming off the string.
The performer places the bow near or just past the mid-point of the bow with a loose shoulder
and arm, managing the quick changes of bow direction with firm yet flexible motion in the
fingers.14 Later in the piece, it is also involved with double-stop spiccato.
Piatti’s no. 9 (Figure 3.10) contains a “bene spiccato” stroke that Piatti developed
himself.15 He specified the use of the fourth finger to guide this stroke. In this etude, it consists
of regular eighth-note patterns with one separate spiccato and two slurred spiccato. The separate
spiccato note is always a double-stop. The whole piece does not have as wide a range of registers
as Franchomme’s. Frachnomme’s no. 6 is also more melodic than Piatti’s no. 9.
(5) Martele.
Martele, literally meaning “hammered” in French, refers to a percussive stroke in which
the hand presses the bow hair onto the string, and releases all the pressure after the initial attack,
with the bow remaining parallel to the bridge. 16 In 1805, P. J. H. Levasseur Bailot defined
martele as a separate bowing producing a faster and longer bow stroke than detache.17 After
about thirty years, Romberg suggested that a slurred martele stroke is a variant of portato in
which the bow stays on the string with a succession of notes of gentle separation and slurred
14
Anderson, “The Cellist’s Right Hand,” 25.
15
Alfredo C. Piatti, 12 Capricen für violoncello, op. 25 = 12 capriccios for violoncello, op. 25 (London: N.
Simrock, 19-?), 22.
16
Sassmannshaus, Martele, www.violinmasterclass.com.
17
P. J. H. Levasseur Baillot, Méthode de violoncello et de basse d’accompagnement (Paris: A l’Imprimerie
du Conservatoire, 1805), 128.
48
staccato. In contrast to Bailot’s concept, this stroke is shorter with a wedge marking.18 Most
modern cellists adopt Romberg’s idea.
Both Piatti’s nos. 4 and 8 have martele strokes with similar rhythm (Figure 3.11), but no.
4 has proportionally more martele strokes than no. 8. In no. 4, the bow is generally kept on the
strings and must be stopped abruptly between each semiquaver to give effect to the martele dots
marked on each note. The first two semiquavers should be played near the point end of the bow,
the second two semiquavers nearer the heel end of the bow.
(6) Ricochet.
Ricochet is a bouncing, off-the-string stroke in which the cellist initiates a single vertical
attack with the right hand, after which the bow bounces two or more times in rapid succession
without changing bow direction.19 It is usually performed in the upper-half of the bow and is
indicated with staccato dots over a slur. One famous example can be found in the fifth variation
of Tchaikovsky’s Rococo Variations, Op. 33, in which the entire scale presents a very fast
chromatic passage on down-bow, with the left hand sliding down the string to an open A string.
Piatti’s nos. 5 and 8 only have up-bow, four sixteenth-notes, ricochet bowings (Figure
3.12). The tempo dictates the placement of bow and height of bounce. For a slower tempo one
throws the bow more near the balance point; for a faster tempo one throws the bow more near the
upper half of the bow. The right thumb is the key to do this stroke: the more relaxed and flexible
the thumb, the easier the stroke is.
18
Romberg, A Complete Theoretical and Practical School for the Violoncello, 63.
19
Anderson, “the Cellist’s Right Hand,” 25.
49
(7) Chord.
Chords can be performed by dividing the notes into different groupings; each grouping
involves a special set of bow techniques. Usually, how one chooses the style of the grouping
depends on factors of tempo, harmony, phrase, and melody. If a chord contains three notes, there
are three ways to play it: (1) one-and-two grouping, (2) two-and-one grouping, and (3) three
notes together, in which one needs to place the bow near the fingerboard. If a chord consists of
four notes, there are also three ways to play it: (1) two-and-two grouping, (2) one-and-three
grouping, (3) three-and-one grouping. Cellists can play three-note chords in either two-note
groupings or as three notes simultaneously. Likewise, four-note chords can be divided into two-
note or three-note groupings. When playing a slow chord, the performer puts equal bow pressure
on the bottom strings. In a fast chord, however, one hits the top two strings very quickly.20
Arpeggios, though similar to chords in that they involve with multiple strings, require a different
technical approach. In arpeggios, the performer places the same pressure on each note of an
arpeggio at a fast speed, which is very similar to the string-crossing stroke, but one must choose
an angle of the arm that prevents two strings from sounding at the same time.
Franchomme used chords only in no. 2, but Piatti employed chords in five of his etudes:
nos. 2, 3, 4, 8, 11, and 12. The chords are usually combined with other strokes, so playing the
chords depends on the context and the phrase structure. For example, Piatti’s no. 11 (Figure 3.13)
starts with arpeggiated chords in an Adagio tempo. Besides rolling the strings to make arpeggios,
one should make longer bass note to enhance the harmony. However, the chords in Piatti’s no.
12 (Figure 3.14) are in an Allegretto tempo and present energetic gestures. One should choose
the two-and-two grouping to make it heroic sounding.
20
Sassmannshaus, Chord, www.violinmaterclass.com.
50
I.2 Techniques of the left hand.
The most important left-hand techniques include shifting, thumb position, pizzicato,
harmonics, and double stops. Shifting consists of three motions: lift, shift, and drop. The
performer first releases the pressure between the finger and the thumb, with the finger resting
lightly on the string; moves the hand by closing or opening the elbow; and then presses the string
down after landing on the correct pitch.21 The performer’s choice of fingering has perhaps the
largest influence on shifting. Among the factors that determine a performer’s choice of
fingerings are the length, strength, and size of the left hand.
Hand position was a concern in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. There were two
opposing methods of how to place the hand on the neck of the cello: the oblique and the
perpendicular hand positions (Figure 3.15). Some cello pedagogues in the early nineteenth
century claimed that “the thumb is not placed horizontally; but it is upright or perpendicular to
the back of the fingerboard,”22 but J.L. Duport advocated using an oblique hand position. The
famous Method of Baudiot (which was the foundation of the Paris Conservatoire) indicated that
the fingers of the left hand should remain perpendicular to the fingerboard with a low elbow.23
The perpendicular left-hand position results in difficulty regarding the fourth finger. Duport
noted that the hand should be placed above the neck; the first joint of the thumb should rest
under the neck, which should be barely squeezed and against which the part of the hand that
joins the thumb to the index must not rest. The wrist should be slightly away from the neck in
21
Sassmannshaus, Finger Droping and Lifting, www.violinmasterclass.com.
22
Walden, One Hundred Years of Violoncello, 99 –103.
23
Ginzburg, History of Violoncello, 83.
51
order for the fingers to be well-positioned and slightly rounded.” 24 Modern cellists typically
follow Duport’s approach to this left-hand position.
(1) Fingering.
Fingering technique underwent a huge development in the eighteenth century. Even in
the most basic first and second positions, pedagogues had divergent opinions (Figure 3.16). From
Michel Corrette’s point of view, the first, second, and fourth fingers were used during the
execution of the first and second positions; while the first, second, and third fingers were used
during the third and fourth positions.25 In the first and second positions, he squeezed the second
and fourth fingers to achieve a semitone, C# – D and D# – E. Salvatore Lanzetti (1710 – 1780),
an Italian cellist, used diatonic fingerings, with four fingers filling in the intervals between the
fifths (in which the instrument was tuned) for half, first, and second positions; but third and
fourth positions were compressed. The pitch range of the cello was extended to b'' in his Sonatas,
Op. 1.26 Johann Baptist Baumgartner (1723 – 1782), a German cellist, had an idea similar to
Lanzetti’s.27 The methodology of sequential, diatonic fingerings for note patterns was supported
not only by Lanzetti and Baumgartner, but also by J.L. Duport’s cello treatise, Essai sur le doigte
du violoncelle et sur la conduite de l’archet of 1806. 28 Later in the century, the fingerings
became more mature: each semitone was fingered with a separate digit throughout the first four
24
Duport, Essai sur le doigté du violoncello, 8.
25
Michel Corrette, Méthode théorique et pratique: pour apprendre en peu de temps le violoncelle dans sa
perfection (Genève: Minkoff Reprint, 1980), 33 – 5.
26
Guido Salvetti and Valerie Walden, “Lanzetti, Salvatore,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, 20
Sep. 2008 <http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.proxy.libraries.uc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/16008>.
27
Robin Stowell, ed., The Cambridge Companion to the Cello (New York: Cambridge University Press,
1999), 185.
28
Cyr and Walden, “Duport.”
52
positions, without compression of the third and fourth positions. 29 Charles Nivolas Baudiot
(1773 – 1849) tried to avoid using open strings when playing scales.30 The Violoncello Methods
of Friedrich August Kummer (1797 – 1879) enlisted fingerings for all the scales in one through
four octaves, all based on the C-major scale31 (Figure 3.17).
(2) Position establishment.
(i) Neck position.
During the last quarter of the seventeenth and the early eighteenth century, cellists and
luthiers experimented with a wide range of positions above the neck position. By the 1730s, they
came to the conclusion that the best way to increase the cello repertoire was to use the thumb on
high registers.32 The function of the thumb was to get the hand posture stable, while the rest of
the fingers were able to press the notes. However, due to the disadvantage of the fourth finger
being shorter than the other three fingers, as well as the quality of the C string’s high registers,
there were some uncertainties as to whether the composers and cellists should include high
registers of the C string in the cello repertoire.
(ii) Thumb position.
Corrette Francesco Alborea (1691 – 1739) is best known for being the first cellist to use
the thumb position. His principles of technique were subsequently incorporated into a treatise
written by Michel Corrette in 1741, titled Methode theorique et pratique pour apprendre en peu
29
Stowell, ed., The Cambridge Companion to the Cello, 185.
30
31
Ginzburg, History of Violoncello, 63 – 5.
32
53
de temps le violoncelle dans sa perfection (Theoretical and Practical Method for Leaning How to
Play the Cello Perfectly within a Short Time). 33 B. Romberg established many current
conventions for finger numbering, such as the thumb sign ; 0 for the open string; and 3 placed
0
above the finger number, e.g. 3, to indicate a natural harmonic.34 He also introduced the use of
the fourth finger in the thumb position. For example, Jean Balthasar Tricklir (1750 – 1813)
instructed the player to use the fourth finger in the thumb position in his Cello Concerto, Op. 1
(Figure 3.18). On the other hand, French cellists of the Berteau school found the fourth finger
inappropriate in all upper-position fingerings.
Johann Schetky (1740 – 1824) indicated that “the thumb is placed upon the first and
second strings in such a manner that the third or even the fourth string may be reached and
covered.”35 His system covered all four fingers on the thumb position, which was commonly
used in the mid-eighteenth century. On the contrary, Berteau’s French school avoided the use of
the fourth finger, except occasionally, when an extra note was added to a scale pattern laying on
the A string.36
Around the 1820s, Romberg overcame the difficulty of high registers on the C string by
exploiting the use of leverage and a lower bow grip, so that he could incorporate the use of the
fourth finger. He used the thumb as a support in the high register on neighboring strings,
gradually leading to the so-called “positional parallelism” principle. He developed this method to
the maximum, enabling musicians to change positions far less frequently. He also greatly
33
Prieto, The Adventures of a Cello, 226.
34
35
Johann Schetky, Practical and Progressive Lessons for the Violoncello (London: János Scholz Cello
Music Collection, 1811), 30.
36
Walden, The Cambridge Companion to the Cello, 188.
54
developed the octave technique using the thumb and the third finger. 37 After that, the French
cellists started to incorporate the use of the C string into their own solo literature. The thumb-
position fingerings became a German specialty in the 1770s, as exemplified by Joseph Haydn’s
famous Cello Concertos in C Major and D Major (Figure 3.19). The first, in C major, includes an
extensive range of C-major scales in thumb position, as at the beginning of its third movement.
The D-major concerto (Figure 3.20) exploits not only the sonorities of the first two higher strings,
above seventh position, but also those of the lower strings, by using the thumb-position fingering
on the first four positions.
Thumb-position fingerings reached their zenith in the second half of the nineteenth
century, in that the fingers could move outward into consecutive positions while the thumb
remained in one setting. David Popper’s Elfentanz (1881) illustrates the essence of high registers
(Figure 3.21). Because he used extremely high registers, one could hardly recognize the pitch of
the notes, only the effect of the high-note consequences. Karl Davidoff (1838–89) employed a
great number of high positions in his compositions and unified the fingerings under a systematic
principle.
Generally, Piatti’s etudes engage a much wider range of registers than Franchomme’s.
Nine of Piatti’s Twelve Caprices employ the thumb position, reaching to the thirteenth position.
Franchomme also made use of the thumb position, but most of his use is limited to the lower
registers with double stops. For instance, Piatti’s no. 3 (Figure 3.22) takes advantage of octave
thumb-position, shifting to reach c’’, the highest note in this piece. In Piatti’s no. 6 (Figure 3.23),
although the thumb position is in the lower forth position, the A-flat minor chord and double
stops make this complicated. One needs to turn the left hand in different directions to adjust the
intonation. However, Franchomme’s use of thumb position was very narrow: most of the thumb
37
Ginsburg, History of the Violoncello, 25.
55
positions are in the lower registers with double stops. Each piece only has few measures of
thumb position. The only exception is his no. 5, which consists of the thumb positions from the
second to the eighth positions (Figure 3.24). The only difference between this piece and Piatti’s
no. 6 is the hand gesture: in Franchomme’s no. 5, once one shifts to the right position, all the
notes are in the place; in Piatti’s no. 6, even when the left thumb is in the right place, the other
fingers still need to twist around to find the right pitches. From this perspective, the etudes of
Piatti are much more advanced than those of Franchomme.
(3) Double Stops.
Double stops can be divided into five kinds, based on intervals: thirds, sixths, octaves,
tenths, and other intervals. When executing double stops, the bow must engage two strings at
once. One can either emphasize a particular string or both strings evenly, depending on the
melody of the passage. In his Violoncello Method, Kummer provided fingerings for thirds in D
0 1 1 0
major, and sixths in A major38 (Figure 3.25). For thirds, he used 2, 3, 4, and 3 fingerings; the
0 0
double stops of 2 and 3 fingerings include one open string. However, he did not write any
examples of double stops on the thumb position. Janos Starker, in “An Organized Method of
String Playing,” mentioned double stops on the low and thumb positions39 (Figure 3.26). On the
thumb position, Starker specially mentioned that the use of the fourth finger depends on the
player’s physical ability. 40 Most octave double stops use the thumb and third fingerings as
38
Friedrich August Kummer, Violoncello method with an appendix containing one hundred and eleven
practice-pieces (New York: G. Schirmer, 1900), 23.
39
Janos Starker, An organized method of string playing: violoncello exercises for the left hand (New York:
Peer International Corp, 1965), 20, 27.
40
Starker, An organized method of string playing, 20.
56
indicated in Hugo Becker’s Fingers and Bow Exercises41 (Figure 3.27); occasionally the player
would use the first and fourth fingers on the lower register. None of the prior methods described
tenths, but this interval did appear in the cello repertoire, in Prokofiev’s Symphonie Concertante
for Cello and Orchestra (Figure 3.28). Prokofiev indicated the thumb and third fingerings in
order to reach this long-distance interval. The fingerings given from Sassmanshaus’ website are
not suitable for cello playing. The main reason is that the cello is much bigger than the violin and
therefore the distance between two notes on the cello will be further apart than on the violin.
Franchomme’s use of double stops mainly focused on the lower registers, unlike Piatti,
who employed a great number of double stops on the high positions. Franchomme’s no. 9
(Figure 3.29) consists of not only thirds and octaves for double stops, but also fourths and fifths.
Most double stops are in the lower registers, in which one does not need to use the thumb.
Conversely, Piatti’s no. 3 (Figure 3.30) is a highly demanding piece for left-hand techniques. It
has various intervals for double stops, including thirds, sixths, and octaves. Furthermore, major
and minor thirds are conjoined to each other. One needs to make the distinction between these
intervals in terms of intonation and shifting: the distance of the left thumb and the second finger
for major thirds is smaller than those for minor thirds. Piatti’s no. 8 (Figure 3.31) contains a
sequence of octaves, and the shifting for these octaves is the distance of a minor third, not the
usual major or minor second.
(4) Harmonics.
Harmonics is a technique that produces a whistle-like sound; they can be categorized as
either natural or artificial. It creates a special effect in the cello repertoire, and can also be used to
tune the instrument. According to Sassmanshaus, the natural harmonics come from the overtone
41
Hugo Becker, Fingers and Bow Exercises, 22.
57
series by subdividing the open string into equal parts at the points of one-half, one-third, one-
quarter, and one-fifth.42 By dividing the A string into two equal parts, it produces an octave
harmonic a’. The ratio of vibration is 1:2. The open A is 440 Hz, and the octave a’ is 880 Hz.
When dividing the A string into three parts, it produces e’’ which is one octave and a fifth above
the open string. The vibrating ratio between the octave harmonic and fifth is 2:3. When dividing
the A string into four parts, it creates another a’’, two octaves higher than the open A. The ratio
between the previous fifth and the current a’’ is 3:4, which defines the perfect fourth. The last
common harmonics is the subdivision of the A string into five parts, generating the pitch c#’’,
two octaves and a third above the open A string (Figure 3.32).
To produce an artificial harmonic, the player holds down a note on the neck with the left
or right hand, which shortens the vibrational length of the string. Then he uses a finger to touch
lightly a point on the string that is an integer divisor of its vibrational length; and he plucks or
bows the side of the string that is closer to the bridge. Kummer’s “Violoncello Method” clarified
that artificial harmonics can only be produced by using the thumb position: “the thumb is placed
firmly upon the string, and the fourth upper note is lightly touched with the third finger” 43
(Figure 3.33). Also, he indicated the actual pitches with a table of all natural and artificial
harmonics44 (Figure 3.34).
Although the use of harmonics had been introduced by Jean-Joseph Cassanea de
Mondonville (1711 – 1771) in Les sons harmoniques: Sonates à violon seul avec la basse
42
Sassmanshaus, Harmonics, www.violonmasterclass.com.
43
Kummer, Violoncello Method, 34.
44
58
continue, Op. 4, 45 not many composers employed the device in the nineteenth century.
Franchomme did not use harmonics in his 12 Caprices, Op. 7; and Piatti only offered this effect
in no. 12 of his 12 Caprices, in just a small portion of the music (Figure 3.35). These harmonics
are in a scale form and most are artificial. Also, he intentionally wrote the word “harmonics”
with a diamond sign to instruct the performer.
In music notation, a composer will normally indicate the use of harmonics to the
performer via the abbreviation “harm.” Without such wording, it is possible that the composer
could use two other ways to instructor the performer. First, an ordinary note with a diamond-
shaped note a fourth or fifth above it represents an artificial harmonic. Two diamond-shaped
notes, one above the other, indicates two natural harmonics, to be played as a double stop.
Second, the composer might use the “0” sign to substitute for the diamond, indicating that the
note functions as a harmonic.
(5) Pizzicato.
When a note is marked “pizz”—an abbreviation of pizzicato—it should be executed by
plucking the string with a finger rather than with the bow, producing a very different sound: one
short, rapid, and percussive rather than sustained. Typically, the cellist uses the right forefinger46
or third finger for pizzicato, while still holding the bow. If the passage of pizzicato was lengthy,
the player would temporarily place the bow on his or her lap. If a chord is to be played pizzicato,
the performer would employ the thumb to roll the strings. It is also possible to execute a
pizzicato with a finger on the left hand; this is done when the player does not have enough time
45
46
Graeme Caughley, Conservation biology in Theory and Practice (Cambridge: Blackwell Science, 1996),
9.
59
to bring the right hand back to the bow position, or when the composer instructs the player with a
small-cross sign above the note. A return to the bowing is marked as “arco.”
The first appearance of pizzicato is found in Claudio Monteverdi’s Combattimento di
Tancredi e Clorinda (1638), in which the music indicates the player to use two fingers of their
right hand to pluck the strings. About a hundred years later, in his Versuch einer gründlichen
Violinschule, Leopold Mozart instructed players to play pizzicato with the index finger of their
right hand.47 Usually, players would hold their bow at the same time as they plucked the strings.
Pizzicato played an accompanimental role in the eighteenth century. This device was gradually
incorporated into the solo cello literature in the last decade of the eighteenth century. J.J.
Nochez’s Cello Sonata No. 3, Op. 1, shows a pizzicato opening48 (Figure 3.36). In the early
nineteenth century, Charles Nicolas Baudiot (1773 – 1849) gave more specific description about
pizzicato in the second volume of his Methode de Violoncelle et de Basse d'Accompagnement
(1805). According to him, the goal of pizzicato is to achieve a round and soft sound through
plucking the strings with the fleshy part of the finger.49 It is also possible to play double-stops by
plucking the string simultaneously with the thumb and index finger.50
Later in the century, Friedrich August Kummer instructed that “a double-stop is executed
by the first and second fingers; a chord of three notes, by the thumb, first and second fingers; if,
however, the chord contains four notes, the thumb may strike all four notes by itself, or only the
47
Sonya Monosoff, “Pizzicato,” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, 14 Oct. 2008
48
49
Charles Nicolas Baudiot, Violoncelle : méthodes, études, ouvrages généraux (Courlay, France: Fuzeau,
2003), 226.
50
60
two lower ones, while the first and second fingers play the two upper notes.”51 Franchomme used
pizzicato in his etudes, but this device was only in the second cello part of his second etude. Only
a few single notes are marked pizzicato. Piatti did not employ this in his etudes at all. One can
make an assumption that the second half of the nineteenth century was a turning point for left-
hand agility (thumb position) and bow techniques, but not for pizzicato.
Still, many major pieces of cello repertoire incorporated this device, such as the opening
of the second movement of Edward Elgar’s Cello Concerto in E Minor, Op. 85 (Figure 3.37). In
the twentieth century, a variation of pizzicato appeared: a strong and ugly pizzicato, produced by
rebounding off the fingerboard; it is called the “Bartók pizzicato,” as it was invented by Bela
Bartok. A circle above the note, with a small vertical line through the top of it, represents this
effect.
51
61
II. Classification of the left and right hand in the etudes of Franchomme.
The etude book by Franchomme consists of twelve caprices, and each addresses a
different combination of left- and right-hand techniques. The whole set was written for two
cellos, making it different from Piatti’s 12 Caprices. The first cello part has the melody and much
of the technical demand; the second part plays only an accompanimental role, with very simple
rhythms. Each caprice has its own tempo, except for no. 7. This book contains fewer technical
aspects, compared to Piatti’s. It does not cover martele and richochet for right hand, nor
harmonics for left hand, reflecting the limited development of cello playing in the first half of the
nineteenth century.
Each caprice is considered unique—a miniature piece. The following table shows the
complete catalogue of technical demands of etude.
62
Techniques in Franchomme’s 12 Caprices, Op. 7:
Left-hand Technique Right-hand Technique

1 Thumb position establishment Detache
Spiccato
2 Position establishment Legato
Double stops (thirds, sixths) Detache
Thumb position Spiccato
Scale fingering Chord
3 Position establishment Detache
Double stops (sixths) Spiccato
String crossing
String crossing
5 Thumb position establishment Legato
String crossing
6 Thumb position establishment String crossing
Scale fingering Spiccato
7 Double stops (thirds, fifths, sixths) Spiccato
Thumb position
8 Position establishment String crossing
Thumb position Legato
Spiccato
Double stops (thirds, sixths) Detache
Spiccato
String crossing
10 Double stops (sixths) Spiccato
Staccato
Legato
Detache
String crossing
String crossing
12 Double stops (thirds, fourths, Spiccato
fifths, sixths) Staccato
Thumb position
63
III. Classification of the left and right hand in the etudes of Piatti.
Piatti’s etude book also consists of twelve studies. At first glance, his etudes seem more
mechanical in nature than Franchomme’s. Like his predecessor, each of Piatti’s etudes has its
own distinct tempo and encompasses a wide range of techniques. This book demands higher
technical requirements, but does not require portato, colle, and brisure for the right hand, nor
pizzicato for the left hand. Also, this book is much more popular than Franchomme’s and more
people use this in their concert repertoire. The table below lists the techniques explored by Piatti.
64
Techniques in Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25:
Left-hand Technique Right-hand Technique

1 Scale fingering Detache
2 Double stops (thirds, sixths) Legato
Thumb position String crossing
Chord
3 Double stops (thirds, octaves) Detache
Thumb position Staccato
Chord
4 Double stops (thirds, sixths) Martele (Martellato)
Staccato
Chord
5 Scale fingering Controlled richochet
Position establishment Staccato
6 Double stops (various intervals) Legato
Thumb position establishment String crossing
8 Double stops (thirds, fifths, sixths, Martele (Martellato)
octaves) Ricochet
Thumb position Chord
9 Double stops (thirds, sixths) Bouncing spiccato
10 Thumb position establishment Staccato
11 Double stops (thirds, fifths, sixths, Legato
octaves) Chord
Thumb position establishment
12 Scale fingering Staccato
Thumb position Chord
Harmonics
65
IV. A synthesis of two Caprices Op. 7 and Op. 25.
As indicated by the above charts, all the techniques show that the two etude books cover
the same subjects for the most part, except harmonics and pizzicato. It seems that Piatti’s 12
Caprices are more didactic than Franchomme’s. In Piatti’s 12 Caprices, the technical elements
are more isolated and focus on one or two techniques per piece; there are a few etudes which
combine more than two elements, but these are the exceptions. The book requires more
sophisticated right-hand techniques, especially the use of the thumb position; it therefore
illustrates the more advanced technical expectations of the end of the nineteenth century. It
contains three more subjects of left-hand and right-hand techniques, including ricochet and
martele for the right hand, and harmonics for the left hand. The whole book is a challenge for
cello playing, aimed at fluency in contraction and extension of the left hand.
On the other hand, Franchomme’s etude book focuses most of the time on the lower
registers; when it comes to the use of the thumb position, it only reaches the seventh position,
which is most basic thumb position. Although it includes the technique of pizzicato, which
Piatti’s book does not cover, its use is at a limited and fundamental level. For the right-hand
techniques, it does not include ricochet and martele, which are more advanced techniques,
developed later in the history of cello playing. The writing of Franchomme is also more pianistic,
employing a great deal of chords.
66
Left-hand techniques:
Franchomme Piatti
Double stops 7, 10, 12 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 11
Thumb position 1, 5, 6 6, 10, 11
Scale fingering 2, 6 1, 5, 12
Position establishment 2, 3, 4, 8, 9, 11 5, 7
Thumb-position 1, 5, 6 6, 10, 11
establishment
Harmonics None 12
Pizzicato 2 None
Right-hand techniques:
Franchomme Piatti
Detache 1, 2, 3, 9, 10 1, 3
Legato 2, 4, 5, 8, 9, 11 2, 6, 7, 11
Spiccato 1, 2, 3, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 12 9
String crossing 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 11 2, 5, 6, 7
Ricochet None 5, 8
Martele None 4, 8
Staccato 10, 12 3, 4, 10, 12
Chord 2 2, 3, 4, 8, 12
67
V. Conclusion
The cello techniques have been improving since the nineteenth century, and today the
cello enjoys a reputation similar to the violin as a concert instrument; it also plays an important
role as an accompanimental instrument. Franchomme and Piatti were one of the most important
cello pedagogues, contributing their life to the development of cello techniques. From their
works, one can see a variety of cello techniques and the difference of the technical demanding.
The purpose of the present examination is to understand the cello techniques thoroughly and
employ them at the right place. One can make an adjustment to choose whether this piece is
suitable for the training of certain technique. The study of two works not only helps us realize the
differences of cello techniques between the middle and late nineteenth century, but also opens
our door to look through the cello concertos. Because of the revolution in cello technique during
the nineteenth century, today all of us have a great number of masterpieces, such as Edouard
Lalo’s Cello Concerto in D minor (1877), Antonin Dvorak’s Cello Concerto in B minor, Op. 104,
(1895), Sergei Prokofiev’s Symphony-Concerto for Cello and Orchestra in E minor, Op. 125
(1933 – 1938), William Walton’s Cello Concerto (1956), Dmitry Shostakovich’s Cello Concerto
No. 1 in E-flat major, Op. 107 (1959) and numerous others.
68
Figures of Chapter Three
 Figure 3.1 :
- Bouncy detaché strokes
1) Franchomme, 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 1.
69
- Firmer and longer detaché strokes
 Figure 3.2: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 2, legato with double stops.
 Figure 3.3: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 2, legato with string crossing.
70
 Figure 3.4: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 11, legato.
 Figure 3.5: Franchomme, 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 4, legato with string crossing.
 Figure 3.6: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 7, legato with string crossing.
71
 Figure 3.7: Franchomme, 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 5, legato.
 Figure 3.8: a slurred two-note followed by two-note staccato.
2) Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 4.
72
 Figure 3.9: Franchomme, 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 6, leggiero.
73
 Figure 3.10: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 9, “bene spiccato.”
 Figure 3.11: Martele stroke.
74
 Figure 3.12: Ricochet stroke.
 Figure 3.13: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 11, arpeggiated chords.
 Figure 3.14: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 12, chords.
75
 Figure 3.15: The oblique (left) and perpendicular (right) hand positions.
76
 Figure 3.16: Common eighteenth-century finger assignments.
 Figure 3.17: F. A. Kummer, “Violoncello Methods”, scales in four octaves
77
 Figure 3.18: J. B. Tricklir, Cello Concerto, Op. 1, III. Allegro Moderato, mm. 84 – 110, “0”
indicates the use of the thumb, and “4” specifies the fourth finger in the thumb
position.
 Figure 3.19: J. Haydn, Cello Concerto in C major No. 1, III. Allegro Molto, mm. 44, 48, 50,
52, and 53 – 54, C major scale in thumb position.
78
 Figure 3.20: J. Haydn, Cello Concerto in D major, No. 2, I. Allegro, mm. 107 – 110.
 Figure 3.21: D. Popper’s Elfentanz, Op. 30, high registers in mm. 39 – 46.
 Figure 3.22: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 3, the octave thumb-position.
79
 Figure 3.23: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 6, two voices with the thumb position in the
lower registers.
 Figure 3.24: Franchomme, 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 5, the thumb positions from the second
to the eighth positions.
 Figure 3.25: Kummer, “Violoncello Method,” fingerings, the thirds in D major and sixths
in A major scales.
80
 Figure 3.26: J. Starker, “An Organized Method of String Playing,” the fourth finger in the
thumb position.
 Figure 3.27: H. Becker, “Fingers and Bow Exercises,” the thumb and third fingers for the
octave double stops.
 Figure 3.28: S. Prokofiev, Cello Concertante, I. Andante, the thumb and third fingers for
the tenths.
 Figure 3.29: Franchomme, 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 9, double stops in the lower registers.
81
 Figure 3.30: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 3, various intervals for double stops.
 Figure 3.31: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 8, a sequence of octaves.
 Figure 3.32: K. Sassmanshaus, natural harmonics.
82
 Figure 3.33: Kummer, “Violoncello Method,” the artificial harmonics in A string.
83
 Figure 3.34: Kummer, “Violoncello Method,” the natural and artificial harmonics in A
string.
84
 Figure 3.35: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 12, harmonics.
 Figure 3.36: J. J. Nochez: Cello Sonata No. 3, Op. 1, pizzicato in the opening.
 Figure 3.37: E. Elgar: Cello Concerto in e minor Op. 85, the opening of II. Lento.
85
Chapter Four
Analyses of Selected Works by Franchomme and Piatti
Both Franchomme and Piatti enjoyed unique positions in the development of the cello
during the nineteenth century. The former contributed to the refinement of the elegant, sweet,
and light bowing technique that distinguished the French school developed by Jean-Pierre and
Jean-Louis Duport. In contrast, the latter inherited the Italian style of cello technique – warm and
bel canto in nature. Just as their lives spanned the Romantic era, their music exhibited a range of
styles that developed during that era. During the nineteenth century, some composers began to
move beyond the conventional harmonic progressions that had been used previously. They began
to expand their methods of tonal organization, such as by utilizing successions that divided the
octave into equidistant intervals (e.g., minor thirds).
In this chapter I will examine a selection from two sets of Caprices, one by Franchomme
(composed the late 1840s, approximately during the time that he was teaching at the Paris
Conservatory 1 ) and one by Piatti (composed in 1875 2 ). I will focus on two pieces from
Franchomme’s 12 Caprices, Op. 7 (nos. 1 and 9), and two pieces from Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op.
25 (nos. 1 and 6). The chapter is divided into two sections: the first compares Franchomme’s no.
9 and Piatti’s no. 6, and the second compares Franchomme’s no. 1 and Piatti’s no. 1. The
grouping of these two sections is based on the characteristics of these pieces: they are similar in
compositional ideas, tempo and mood, but they present these factors in different ways, as I will
discuss later. The analyses are based on ideas developed by Heinrich Schenker, including not
only his well-known analytic method from the 1920s and 1930s, as per Der freie Satz (1935), but
also his earlier Harmonielehre (1906). Through analysis, I will discuss how the styles of
1
2
86
Franchomme and Piatti differ from each other, and demonstrate how their works exhibit variety
in tonal structure; when relevant, I will consider methods of tonal organization that were new in
the nineteenth century, such as key relationships based on thirds. Such procedures can also be
found in the music of other nineteenth-century composers, such as Franz Liszt (1811 – 1886) and
Frédéric Chopin (1810 – 1849), and thus the music of Franchomme and Piatti will be shown to
be consistent with the emerging syntax.
87
I. Comparison of Franchomme’s 12 Caprices, op. 7, No. 9 and Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25,
No. 6.
I.1 Franchomme: 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 9.
It is well-known that Franchomme had a close friendship with Chopin until the death of
the latter. As mentioned before (in Chapter Two), the cello part of Chopin’s Cello Sonata, Op. 65
was actually written by Franchomme, according to Franchomme’s own inscribed copy of this
work in the National Library in Paris.3 These two facts suggest that Franchomme’s music was
somewhat influenced by Chopin. In the present case, no. 9 illustrates some connections in terms
of voice-leading. According to Gerald Abraham, “Chopin’s harmony is primarily diatonic, but is
chromatically embellished.”4 Franchomme’s compositional style features frequent tonicization
and chromaticism, which Schenker defined in 1906 as follows:
Not only at the beginning of a composition but also in the midst of it, each scale-step
manifests an irresistible urge to attain the value of the tonic for itself as that of the strongest
scale-step. If the composer yields to this urge of the scale-step within the diatonic system of
which this scale-step forms apart, I call this process [tonicization] and the phenomenon
itself chromatic.5
In this examination of the Caprice Op. 7/9, I will focus on key areas related by the minor third,
and on chromatic descending lines and other linear techniques.
3
4
Richard S. Parks, “Voice Leading and Chromatic Harmony in the Music of Chopin,” Journal of Music
Theory 20, no. 2 (Autumn 1976), 190.
5
Heinrich Schenker, Harmony, ed. Oswald Jonas, trans. Elisabeth Mann Borgese, 256; the translator
renders Schenker’s Tonikalisierung as “tonicalization,” but I have used here the standard form, “tonicization.”
88
1) The Relationship of the Minor Third – the Relative Mediant.
This etude is in A B A’ form, as in Piatti’s Op. 25/6 (to be discussed below). The
Middleground reduction of this etude is shown in Figure 4.1. The overall tonal motion features
key areas related by the minor third. The progression, including the modally altered submediant
and subdominant chromaticism, reflects this work’s ternary design, as shown in Figure 4.2:
 Figure 4.2: Diagram of Franchomme’s 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 9.
A B A’
1 7 15 22 29 36 40 46 50 56
b: PAC D: HC PAC DC PAC b: PAC e: b: PAC
i III i iv i
A foreground interpretation of the voice leading and harmonic organization of the entire
piece is provided in Figure 4.3. The basic harmonic motion of the piece is i – III – I, generally
^
supporting the Kopfton 5. Most of the phrases are either six or eight measures in length,
throughout the piece. The first section consists of two phrases, each of which closes on the
dominant of different keys, with a fermata rest. While the first phrase ends with an authentic
cadence in b minor, the second phrase closes on the dominant of D major, which is the diatonic
mediant of b minor. This opens the door to D major for the B section, which has three phrases.
The overall tonal motion of the B section is III – vi/III – III, mostly supporting the
^ ^
Kopfton F# (scale degree 3 in D major, which serves as 5 in b minor). The beginning of the
second phrase contains the 3 – 1 – 3 voice exchange in the harmony of the dominant. Mm. 26 –
89
28 of the second phrase tonicize the submediant of D major, recalling the elements of b minor.
The last phrase of the B section (mm. 29 – 40) is enlarged to twelve measures, by the addition of
a one-measure modulating expansion, confirming the close of the section and the shift back to
the tonic key of b minor. The last phrase involves modal mixture in m. 34, supporting natural-3
in the upper voice which I will discuss further in the section on chromatic descending lines. Here,
^ ^ ^ ^
it creates a step-wise descending motion: 3 natural-3  2  b^2  natural-^2  1 in D major,
forming a deceptive ending in a non-tonic key.
The A’ section returns to b minor as expected, but Franchomme adds a new element of e-
minor tonicization to this return. It consists of two phrases, six and thirteen measures in length.
6
The overall harmonic motion is i  V5/iv  i. The initial phrase in b minor exactly repeats the
opening of the piece, and is also the last appearance of the principal theme. Before the second
phrase enacts the final descending motion, there is an unexpected tonicization of e minor, the
subdominant key to b minor. Within the descending chromatic line of mm. 45 – 58, the D#
^
leading tone resolves to E, making the 4 stronger. Due to this tonicization, the final cadence of b
minor in mm. 50 – 58 appears later than expected. This delay of the final cadence is much more
powerful than the final cadence V7 – I in the A section.
The A’ section combines and juxtaposes features of the two major A and B sections of
the piece. First, the A’ section repeats the same phrase as the opening statement (mm. 1 – 6) of
the A section. Secondly, the B and A’ sections both employ chromatic descending lines (in mm.
33 – 36 and 45 – 58, respectively), which I will explain in more detail later.
After viewing the harmonic progression of the entire piece, one can easily see that the
three sections are based on relative major and minor keys. However, according to Schenker, the
concept of “relative” keys does not exist. John Rothgeb explains:
90
The concepts of ‘relative’ major and ‘relative minor’ are indeed foreign to Schenkerian
thought. If, for example, an A-minor chord were tonicized within a work in C major,
Schenker would explain it any of several ways, depending upon the larger context: the A
bass might be a passing tone in a descending or ascending linear progression; it might be an
upper neighboring tone to V; or any of several other possibilities. He would never invoke
an independent concept of “relative” keys.6
In this case, D major serves as a tonicized mediant key area within b minor. This piece is very
similar to the structure of Chopin’s Nocturne in G Minor, Op. 37: Franchomme’s no. 9 starts in b
minor, moves to D major (the tonicized mediant), descends through V and finally returns to the
tonic, making clear the deep structural significance of the mediant key area. Chopin’s Nocturne
goes from g minor (tonic), to B-flat major (tonicized mediant), to E-flat major (subdominant of
tonicized mediant), and then back to g minor (tonic). Both pieces feature chromaticism on the
surface of the music, but in the background, they employ the diatonic third relationships (which
was a common diatonic background structure in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries).
Schenker would say that both Franchomme and Chopin use a basic diatonic background
structure, based on the mediant, in spite of any chromaticism at levels closer to the surface of the
music.7
2) Voice Leading: The Chromatic Descending Line with Motivic Parallelism.
The endings of both chromatic lines (mm. 31 – 36 and mm. 45 – 58) utilize the same
^ ^ ^
pattern, with lowered ^2 moving to an implicit natural 2 to 1. (That is, the natural- 2 (E-natural) of
6
Oswald Jonas, Introduction to the Theory of Heinrich Schenker: the Nature of the Musical Work of Art,
trans. John Rothgeb (New York: Longman), 1982, 29.
7
Heinrich Schenker, Free Composition = (Der freie Satz) : volume III of New musical theories and
fantasies, trans. and ed. by Ernst Oster (New York: Longman, 1979), 75 – 9.
91
^
m. 34 and the #2 (C#) of m. 55 are both implied notes.) Franchomme intentionally avoids the
^
common diatonic descending motion, and instead plays around with the modal identity of 2.
The passage in mm. 31 – 36 illustrates the voice-leading movement between tonic and
dominant chords (see Figure 4.3). The ascending chromatic scale prepares the descending
chromatic scale. Right before the chromatic descending line from m. 33 to m. 36 starts, there is a
chromatic ascending line in mm. 31 – 32. This chromatic melodic line consists of a descending
space-filling motion, from the tonic chord of m. 29, to the dominant chord of m. 31, on the way
to the tonic chord in successively major and minor forms in mm. 33 and 3, to the dominant chord
in m. 35, and finally to the tonic chord in m. 36. The most important feature of this descent is the
use of F-natural followed by F# in mm. 33 – 34, and E-flat followed by E-natural in m. 35. The
former illustrates the modal mixture from D-major tonic chord to d-minor tonic chord. The latter
^ ^
(2 different versions of the degree 2) shows the upper neighboring motion from E-flat to D.
After this arch shaped line (of chromatic ascents and descents), the soprano descends
from Bb to D, accompanied by V64--53 with the neighboring motion in the bass. There is no inner
part except in m. 35, which divides into two separate voices after the initial D. The inner voice
moves entirely by semitone around C#, the leading tone in the B section’s tonic key of D major.
The passage is highly embellished with neighbor notes, as well as skips between various chord
members.
The sonorities of m. 35 result from the confluence of voices, and include a fully
diminished seventh (C# – E – G – Bb), a dominant seventh (A – C# – E – G), and a Neapolitan
6th chord. The last beat of m. 35 has bII6 followed by V. These chromatic sonorities function
logically to prolong the dominant. This interpretation reflects Schenker’s concept of
chromaticism. He once said, “Chromatic change is an element which does not destroy the
92
diatonic system but which rather emphasizes and confirms it.”8 However, he noted that only
limited chromaticism can exist in the diatonic system. 9 He further clarified his views on
chromaticism in Der freie Satz: “A truly well established tonality can guide even the greatest
number of chromatic phenomena back to the basic triad.”10 In other words, even if large sections
of a piece are highly chromatic for many minutes, the chromaticism is logically integrated into a
diatonic background structure, to which the chromaticism will eventually revert.
The motive of F# – E – D in mm. 33 – 36 does not appear for the first time. It actually
occurs in m. 11 – 12, 16, and 30, prior to the passage in mm. 33 – 36. This relates to Schenker’s
idea of motivic parallelisms. As Charles Burkhart explains:
Motivic parallelism [is] expressed on different structural levels – both low and high
(expressed in “the small” and “the large”)…. A motivic parallelism must have at least
two statements of the motive, but more may occur. It is sometimes convenient to call the
first the pattern and the second the copy. … A copy may be of any length relative to the
pattern. If the copy is longer than the pattern, it is called an enlargement
(Vergrösserung)…. On the opposite, it is called a contraction (Verkleinerung).11
The pattern (original motive) is a 3-note F# – E – D pattern in mm. 11 – 12, provided in Figure
4.4. The copies (mm. 16, 30, 33 – 36, 45 – 51) repeat the same pitches, but lie on different levels.
The copy of m. 16 and 30 is just one-measure long, a contraction of the pattern. The copies of
mm. 33 – 36 and mm. 45 – 51 happen at much higher structural level and are longer than the
pattern. The two enlargements of mm. 33 – 36 and mm. 45 – 51 are also chromatic descending
lines, which will be discussed next. This is an excellent example of motivic parallelism,
including four copies with two contractions and two enlargements.
8
Schenker, Harmony, 288.
9
10
Schenker, Der freie Satz, 13.
11
Charles Burkhart, “Schenker’s Motivic Parallelisms,” Journal of Music Theory 22, no. 2 (Autumn 1978),
146 – 49.
93
Another notable example of voice-leading occurs in mm. 43 – 56, more complex than the
previous one. The main open note-heads in Cello I, which switch between the soprano and tenor
voices (see Figure 4.3), indicate the step-wise descending ^5 to ^1 motion. The passage starts with
the Kopfton F# (scale degree ^5) and then divides into two voices in mm. 45 – 46. The F# does
not stay in the soprano voice; instead, it skips down an octave into the tenor voice for three
measures. E enters at m. 49, serving two roles: to continue the descending line from scale degree
^5 to ^4, and as the resolution of the D# of m. 48, the leading tone in the tonicization of E minor.
This passage illustrates Richard Parks’ point about a feature frequently found in Chopin’s music:
Chopin’s harmony is primarily diatonic, but is chromatically embellished……Non-

harmonic tones do not always resolve in the same voice (a truly harmonic conception)
and are often retained for long periods, so that at the point of resolution, the
circumstances of origin mat be forgotten.12
The descent continues with scale degree ^3 (D) in m. 51, which extends for four measures
with harmonic and contrapuntal elaboration. The D returns to the higher register for two
measures before another register transfer in mm. 53 – 54. While the D is holding, the contrary
motion of the two voices in mm. 52 – 53 makes the sonorities more colorful. The sonorities in
mm. 51 – 52 include a half-diminished seventh chord (G – B – C# – E) and a diminished seventh
chord (E# – G# – B – D). The latter does not belong to b minor; rather, it prolongs G#, which
serves as a neighbor note to G-natural in mm. 51 – 52 and also in mm. 54 – 55. After the D goes
to the lower register, the Cello I has a descending motion from C# to the dominant of b minor, in
mm. 53 – 55. Franchomme does not provide a normal diatonic descent to ^1. Instead, the descent
features ^2 (C-natural) in m. 55, and implies #^2 (C#) between ^3 (D) and ^1 (B). I will discuss
12
Parks, “Voice Leading and Chromatic Harmony in the Music of Chopin,” 190.
94
implied notes in more detail below. In the last two measures (after the cadence in m. 57), the
upper voice has the major second from C# to B, confirming the perfect authentic cadence.
There are several differences between the chromatic descending movement in mm. 43 –
58, and that in mm. 31 – 36:
1. the chromatic descending motion in mm. 43 – 58 is ^5  ^4  ^3 natural-^2 #^2  ^1,
and that of mm. 31 – 36 only has ^3 natural-^3  ^2  b^2 natural-^2  ^1. The main
difference between these two motions is the modal change on 3 in mm. 31 – 36, which
does not happen in mm. 43 – 56.
2. The passage in mm. 43 – 58 features voice crossing and octave shifts, not found in the
other passage.
3. During the final melodic descent to the tonic (mm. 45 – 58), the harmony tonicizes e
minor, a subdominant relationship, resulting a more forceful perfect authentic cadence in
mm. 55 – 58. This prominence does not happen in mm. 31 – 36.
3) Some Other Techniques.
a) Voice Exchange.
In mm. 4 – 5, the upper voice ascends from B3 to D4 while the bass descends from D3 to
B2, over tonic harmony. In contrary motion, both voices traverse the same interval: the minor
third between B and D. The process encompasses some decorating neighbor notes: In m. 4, both
voices have prefix neighbor notes. In m. 5, the soprano has an ascending line to F#4 (^5), in
which each main note is accompanied with a prefix neighbor note, while the bass also has a little
prefix neighboring motion to D3 and B2. This elaborate voice exchange forms part of the
interval succession 6 – 6 – 6 – 10 – 10, which leads to the fifth (F#4) of the tonic chord in b
95
minor in m. 5. This not only projects the interval of the minor third between B and D, but also
emphasizes all members of the b-minor tonic chord.
A second example of voice exchange appears in mm. 23 – 24, featuring a 3 – 1 – 3
intervallic pattern. While the upper voice descends by step, the inner voice ascends; both voices
outline the minor third between C#4 and E4. The last note of the inner voice (E4) is higher that
the last note of the upper voice (C#4). This causes voice crossing, and a 3 – 1 – 3 pattern instead
of a 10 – 8 – 6 pattern. It is clear that the melodic note brought to the fore by the exchange is the
first note of the descant and the last note of the inner voice (E), which is the fifth of the dominant
triad, and the lower neighbor to the Kopfton F#. Both examples show that the voice exchange
involves two voices, projects a single interval, and presents a prolongation.13
b) Implied Note.
All of the implied notes in this piece are found in the descending step-wise motions in the
upper voice. In measure 35, the melodic progression suggests an implied E: the progression of
^3 – natural-^3 – ^2 – b2 – natural-^2 – ^1 in mm. 33 – 36 at the ending of the B section. This causes a
E-natural to be implied in m. 35, which is necessary as it is the fifth of the dominant triad in D
major. The implied C# in m. 55 is very similar: it is included as an implied note after the C-
natural as part of the ^5 – ^4 – ^3 – natural- ^2 – #^2 – ^1, as C# is the fifth of the dominant-seventh
chord.
c) Register Transfer.
Mm. 45 – 56 illustrate a range of register transfers, as previously explained.
13
Forte and Gilbert, Introduction to Schenkerian Analysis, 110 – 119.
96
d) The Function of the Neighbor Note.
Franchomme frequently used neighbor notes; each case demonstrates a different function.
As a first example, mm. 3 – 4 demonstrate two neighbor notes as part of the stepwise descending
line in both voices. In the soprano, the E and C# function as incomplete upper neighbor notes to
D and B, while the bass line has a descending line filled with the upper neighbor notes G and E.
The E4 is separated from the main note (D) by the consonant skip from B3 to E4. This forms a
sequence of parallel sixths, emphasizing the first inversion of the tonic chord in b minor. Then,
m. 5 contains a beautifully idiomatic instance of incomplete upper neighbor notes as prefixes: an
unusual ascending chain of appoggiaturas, attached to the main melodic tones A# – B – C# – D –
E – F#. In these three measures, the elaborated neighbor notes increase the energy as the line
leads to Kopfton ^5 (F#). The neighbor note can also occur within a process of unfolding, and in
compound melody. In mm. 15 – 16, the upper neighbor-note motive is applied to the Kopfton F#,
which is unfolded down to D. The result is that both voices have a complete neighboring motion:
a complete upper neighboring, F# – G – F# (in the soprano) and a complete lower neighboring,
D – C# – D.
The last example of the neighbor note illustrates how the upper and lower notes of a turn
can serve as prefix neighbor notes to a tone which is itself a neighbor note. In the inner voice in
mm. 35 – 36, the D and B# form a double neighbor-note figure to C#, which itself functions as a
lower incomplete neighbor note to the main note D. In addition, the lower voice in m. 35 also
employs a succession of neighbor notes. The higher incomplete neighbor figure consists of E, C#
and Bb, which are the neighbors to F-natural, D and A. These chromatic neighbors strongly
imply the resolution to the main notes. The pattern of these three groups is the prefix followed
by the main note. The first two groups (E – F and C# – D) form a °5 – 3 linear pattern with the
97
soprano, and the last group (Bb – A) in m. 35 does not follow the previous pattern. Eb (^2b) of the
soprano chooses E-natural (^2) rather than D, resulting a V3 chord. As a V64--53 goes to the tonic
5
chord in mm. 35 – 36, it defines a perfect authentic cadence.
From these examples, it is clear that the neighbor note can appear in different places and
serve different roles. Each complete or incomplete neighbor note can be a prefix or suffix, upper
or lower, and diatonic or chromatic, theoretically yielding twelve possibilities in the music. The
common trait of these examples is that the neighbor note as a prefix always relates to another
single note (the main note).14
14
Allen Forte and Steven F. Gilbert, Introduction to Schenkerian Analysis (New York: Norton, 1982), 17 –
24.
98
I.2 Piatti: 12 Caprices Op. 25 No. 6.
Piatti himself was better known as a cello pedagogue than as a composer. His Caprice,
Op. 25/6, demonstrates compositional techniques typical of late nineteenth-century composers,
especially the use of successive minor thirds. The two sets of caprices by Franchomme and Piatti
are separated by a period of only three decades. However, Piatti used third relations in his
Caprice in a more progressive manner than Franchomme, as I will describe below. Aspects of
tonal evolution in the nineteenth century are thus reflected in the contrasts between Franchomme
and Piatti.
1) A Succession of Minor Thirds.
In the diatonic tonal system, the unequal division of the octave is fundamental to the
hierarchy of harmonic relationships. 15 Some examples of the unequal division of the octave
include common progressions, such as II – V, I – IV, IV – V, IV – II. However, the interval of
the third can divide the octave equally: major thirds divide it three equal times, and minor thirds
divide it four equal times. In a chromatic tonal system, thirds are also useful intervals to enrich
the harmony. From Schenker’s point of view, progression by thirds is as common as that by
fifths. Progressions by thirds or fifths can ascend or descend. (However, the effect of root motion
by fifth remains stronger than that of the third.)16
Here, one finds that the equal division of musical space into minor thirds develops
successive duplications of specific harmonic progressions. In this case, the chord-to-chord
progressions are based upon repeating relationships: i  bIII / natural-III. This “transposition
15
Howard Cinnamon, “Tonic Arpeggiation and Successive Equal Third Relations as Elements of Tonal
Evolution in the Music of Franz Liszt,” Music Theory Spectrum 8 (Spring 1986), 2.
16
99
operation”17 makes more than two modulations, but eventually leads back to the tonic key. At
first, they appear in the incipient equal division18 form as embellishments of tonic-arpeggiating
progressions that ascend i – bIII – #IV – natural-VI – I – V – i. Ultimately, they present a type of
prolongation in which, within the same key or modulation, the repeating i – V harmonic
progression appears again and again.
In mm. 16 – 41 (the B section) of the Caprice no. 6, a succession of ascending minor
thirds equally divides the bass octave span Ab3 – Ab4, as shown in Figure 4.5. Each of the
successive thirds is followed by its own dominant, a feature that emphasizes the equal division of
the octave in this passage. Meanwhile, the harmonic progression involves the common tone in
the soprano: the fifth scale degree (Gb4) in Cb major is enharmonically equivalent to the third
(F#4) of the tonic in D major; this enharmonic common-tone connection is shown by a dotted
slur in the foreground graph. Scale degree ^5 (A4) in D major becomes the third of F major in mm.
23 – 24. The same procedure recurs again in mm. 24 – 25: scale degree ^5 of F major (C4) is
equivalent to the third of the tonic in Ab major. The last two patterns are represented by a
concrete slur to show the common tone. Eventually, the tonic Ab4 is approached contrapuntally,
in large part through the arpeggiations of its diminished-seventh chord (Ab – Cb – D – F); this
spans ten measures (mm. 16 – 24) to reach its parallel key, A-flat major, which completes the
equal division of the Ab3 – Ab4 octave. The extended V in mm. 27 – 33 is the penultimate goal
of tonal motion, leading to the return of A-flat minor in m. 34. and the D major harmony of m.
23 can be regarded as a passing harmony that links bIII with natural-VI. This maintains the
17
Gregory Proctor, “Technical Bases of Nineteenth-Century Chromatic Tonality: A Study in
Chromaticism” (Ph. D. diss., Princeton University, 1978), 159 – 70.
18
Cinnamon, “Tonic Arpeggiation and Successive Equal Third Relations as Elements of Tonal Evolution
in the Music of Franz Liszt,” 10 – 24.
100
normative hierarchic positions and preserves the diatonic functions of each principal harmony,
corresponding to a more conventional tonal progression.
Comparing section A to section B, one finds that section B begins and ends with the
parallel minor of the overall A-flat major tonic. After natural-VI (f minor, m. 24) appears, the
harmony does not immediately return to a-flat minor. Instead, mm. 25 – 26 turn to A-flat major,
recalling the major key tonic of the whole piece. There is a sudden shift back to a-flat minor in m.
27, illustrating modal mixture. The play of thirds does not end in m. 27. In mm. 37 – 38, C-flat
major is again tonicized, as in m. 20. One would expect another cycle of minor thirds, but this
time C-flat major goes directly back to a-flat minor. It is only a reminiscence of the progression
in minor thirds.
There are four important points on tonal structures illustrated by this passage:
1. The chromatic tonal system is based on the diatonic tonal system. Within the minor-third
operations, the tonic-dominant relationship remains the foundation. As Howard
Cinnamon mentioned, the determinative role played by V differentiates between
equiproportional structures and those based on elaborations of more conventional
structural patterns.19 The presence of the V harmony and the progression produced by its
prolongation define the arpeggiations as the structural basis of this passage.
2. It shows how easily equal divisions of the octave can be produced through extensions of
standard diatonic procedures.
3. It demonstrates how structures are based on equal division of the octave by successive
thirds; the latter may be seen as controlling elements in this passage, and as a new
harmonic development in the nineteenth century. Not only did Piatti employ this, but
19
in the Music of Franz Liszt,” 9.
101
Liszt also used it in his Sposalizio (mm. 30 – 77) and Faust Symphony (mm. 71 – 424).
For example, the harmonic progression of mm. 30 – 77 of Liszt’s Sposalizio presents I –
natural-III – bV – #VI – I in E major. Like Piatti’s no. 6, Liszt made use of a succession
of ascending minor thirds that clearly divides a I – I octave into equal segments. There is
a difference between the two pieces. In Piatti’s no. 6: Starting with the second successive
third, the harmony follows I – V pattern in each third. But in Liszt’s Sposalizio, the last
three successive thirds are preceded by its own dominant.20 Both examples abundantly
offer equal division of the octave by successive thirds as well as by their sequential
nature.
4. It proves that where common-tone prolongations span many measures, chromatic
mediants usually depart from and return to the same chord without prolonging other
harmonies, as in mm. 16 – 34. This idea is somewhat analogous to David Kopp’s view,
who explains that the chromatic mediant originates from and returns to either a single
tonic chord, or the dominant in the case of the long-range neighbor prolongations 21 ,
instead of that of the common-tone prolongations.
2) Modal Mixture.
Schenker always regarded the minor system as conceptually inferior to the major
system.22 He also suggested that most pieces rely on modal mixture.23 It is the concept of modal
mixture that makes the two systems available to each other. He wrote:
20
in the Music of Franz Liszt,” 5-24.
21
David Kopp, Chromatic Transformations in Nineteenth-Century Music (New York : Cambridge
University Press, 2002) , 117.
22
Jonas, Introduction to the Theory of Heinrich Schenker, 27 – 30.
102
The tone lives in a richer life, it satisfies its vitality all the better the more it revels in these
relationships – that is, first, when it unites major and minor – and second, the more
intensely it revels in each system.24
Modal mixture is exhibited in this piece at two levels, from the surface to the underlying
voice-leading patterns. In the foreground, the B section starts with a-flat minor, followed by
successive ascending minor thirds to A-flat major, before a return to a-flat minor (as I previously
discussed). The Caprice no. 6 is in ABA’ form, as shown in Figure 4.6. The key areas of the
three sections are respectively A-flat major, a-flat minor, and A-flat major. The opening A
section, which is illustrated in Figure 4.7, contains fifteen measures and presents the essential
ideas: arch-shape motives (for example, the opening melodies ascends from Ab2 to Eb5 and then
descends to the initial note), the I – IV – V – I6 – ii – V/V – V harmonic progression leading to a
half cadence, and an overall melancholic mood. In all three sections of the piece, the Kopfton ^5
plays an important role.
 Figure 4.6: Diagram of Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 6.
A B A’ Coda
1 9 16 25 34 44 61
Ab: I PC HC ab: i PC Ab: I PC ab: i PC Ab: I PAC PC
(I) (i) (I)
23
Matthew Brown, “The Diatonic and the Chromatic in Schenker’s Theory of Harmonic Relations,”
Journal of Music Theory 30, no. 1 (Spring 1986), 5.
24
103
The initial phrase of the A’ section is an exact repeat of the opening six measures in A-
flat major. However, several interesting things happen in the consequent phrase in mm. 49 – 63.
Piatti reintroduces the opening harmony in mm. 49 – 56: the I – IV – V – I progression, which is
based on the unequal division of the octave. Also, he extended this return with some elements
from the B section by employing two voices in mm. 52 – 56: The top voice with long notes is the
main melody for three measures, and then the long notes appear in the bottom line for another
two measures. Mm. 55 – 66 (a part of A’ section and Coda) are based on I – V7 – I, with a
perfect authentic cadence that differs from the end of the A section. The harmony emphasizes the
tonic, with the step-wise descending motion ^5 – ^4 – ^3 – ^2 – ^1. Also, m. 55 contains a brief
tonicization of IV, which is quite similar to what is found in Franchomme no. 9. Both examples
take place during the descending ^5 – ^4 – ^3 – ^2 – ^1 of A’ section. Although Piatti’s final
descending section is shorter than Franchomme’s, both have the same function to emphasize the
final perfect authentic cadence.
One would expect to end this piece here, after the perfect authentic cadence, but it does
not happen in this way. The cadence is reinforced by a statement of the opening two-measure
segment with slight changes, illustrating the initial motive and the scale-like arching line. Finally,
the piece ends with two pizzicato chords in a pianississimo dynamic. The middleground of the
whole piece can be viewed in Figure 4.8.
3) The Relationship of “Leads” and “Follows.”
In mm. 28 – 34, the harmony is V – i in a-flat minor, with a perfect authentic cadence, as
illustrated in Figure 4.9. The top voice starts with Eb5, followed by a neighbor-tone motion (Fb5),
and descends in stepwise motion to a lower octave Eb4 with the same neighbor-note motion to
104
Fb4. This is shown in Figure 4.5. The upper voice outlines the fifth between Eb and Bb, elements
of the dominant chord of a-flat minor. However, the bottom line cannot be slurred in the same
way as the top line. The main reason is that G and Db do not fully establish the dominant chord
of a-flat minor. Instead, the bottom line follows the upper voice in parallel sixths. Before and
after this passage, there is a neighbor-note motion in mm. 28 and 32, creating a small-scale
symmetry.
4) The Function of the Neighbor Note.
Piatti used fewer neighbor notes than Franchomme as shown in the foreground (see
Figure 4.7). In mm. 16 – 18, the double neighbors G-natural and Bb decorate the Ab in the bass.
In the leading and following passage in mm. 28 – 34, both soprano and bass voices have a

complete upper neighbor-note figure: Eb – Fb – Eb in the soprano, and G-natural – Ab – G-
natural and Eb – Fb – Eb in the bass. The G-natural serves two functions: as a principal tone
(with neighbor notes) in mm. 28 – 33, and as the lower incomplete neighbor to the Ab in m. 34.
Mm. 39 – 41 illustrate how a neighbor note can be indirectly connected to its main note. The Fb
does not directly go to Eb; instead, an intervening F-natural is presented between the neighboring
Fb and the main Eb.
5) Implied Note.
Mm. 27 – 28 (See Figure 4.7) present a situation in which the harmonic shift suggests an
implied note: before m. 27, the harmony is on the dominant-seventh chord in A-flat major. The
normal resolution of the Cb in m. 27 suggests a Bь on the downbeat of m. 28. The implied
105
resolution of Cb – Bb confirms the dominant chord of a-flat minor. Both of these examples occur
in the alto voice.
106
I.3 Conclusion of Franchomme’s No. 9 and Piatti’s No. 6.
Franchomme’s no. 9 and Piatti’s no. 6 are lyrical pieces with moments of melancholy.
However, they differ in their use of third relationships: the former embodies the progression b
minor – D major – b minor (i – III – i), and the latter has A-flat major – a-flat minor with
chromatic third relationships – A-flat major (I – i – I). Clearly, Franchomme’s no. 9 mainly
employs diatonic third relationship, which is common in all tonal music, including Baroque and
Classical period music. The diatonic third relationships are also found most minor-key dance
movements in Baroque music (like Bach’s minuets), and in most minor-key Classical-period
sonata forms. On the other hand, the chromatic third relationships that are found in Piatti’s no. 6
are a hallmark of nineteenth century music. Not only Piatti, but Liszt took advantage of
chromatic third relationships which equally divide the octave. In addition, the chromatic
descending lines with motivic parallelism makes the B and A’ sections of Franchomme’s no. 9
more distinguished, while Piatti’s no. 6 presents model mixture at lower and higher levels.
107
II. Comparison of Franchnomme’s 12 Caprices, op. 7, No. 1 and Piatti’s 12 Caprices, op.
25, No. 1.
The first etudes in Franchomme’s and Piatti’s 12 Caprices have some common surface
characteristics, but also process some differences. They both feature constant sixteenth-note
rhythms, fast tempo (Allegro), accent marking, and even the same tonic (G). On the other hand,
Franchomme’s no. 1 is in G major with 4/4 meter whereas Piatti’s no. 1 is in g minor with 6/8
meter. The pitch register of Franchomme’s no. 1 is higher than that of Piatti’s no. 1. On the
account of form, Franchomme’s no. 1 is sectional while Piatti’s no. 1 is continuous. The
following will show more detailed features in uniformity and distinction.
II.1 Franchomme: 12 Caprices Op. 7 No. 1.
1) Omnibus Progression.
Victor Fell Yellin defines the Omnibus progression as follows:
In its simple typical form, the omnibus is five chords long and it prolongs a
dominant seventh chord via a chromatically filled-in voice exchange involving
scale degree 5 and 7; the resulting progressions are filled with enharmonic double
entendres.25
A complete Omnibus progression is shown in Figure 4.10. The first two chords establish the key
of G major. In terms of harmonic function, the third chord can be viewed as a dominant seventh
6
of B-flat major, or enharmonically as an augmented sixth chord leading to a cadential 4 in A
major (or A minor). The fourth chord is a supertonic chord in second inversion, while the fifth
chord is again a German sixth chord in A. However, all of the central harmonies are simply
25
Victor Fell Yellin, “The Omnibus Idea,” paper presented at the annual meeting of the American
Musicological Society, Dallas, 1972; quoted in Paula J. Telesco, “Enharmonicism and the Omnibus Progression in
Classical-Era Music,” Music Theory Spectrum 20, no. 2 (Autumn 1998), 242.
108
passing chords, embedded within a chromatically filled-in voice exchange. The function of the
omnibus progression is to prolong the dominant chord.
Franchomme adopted the concept of the Omnibus progression in mm. 3 – 4, in which the
F-natural and the D are omitted in the soprano and bass (respectively), as shown in Figure 4.11.
The progression prolongs the dominant seventh harmony; the chord with E in the bass in m. 3
leads to the dominant. Although a chromatic voice exchange appears in m. 4, the diatonic context
is clear both before and after those measures. The soprano spans a major third in the voice
exchange context, as the bass spans only a minor third from D#3 to F#3. On the larger scale,
mm. 1 – 5 present a prolongation of the tonic of G major.
2) The Movement of the Kopfton, D / Register Transfer.
All the parts feature similar register transfers of the Kopfton D, as shown in Figure 4.12.
Each part starts with D3 or D4 and is transferred up an octave. Within a measure, the higher D5
shifts directly back to the original D4. For example, the “a” part begins with the Kopfton D3 for
three and half measures; after the omnibus progression, the Kopfton is transferred up to D4 for
one bar. It immediately returns to the starting pitch for four measures, as shown in Figure 4.11.
Another instance occurs in m. 11. The “b” part of mm. 9 – 14 features a similar transfer of the
Kopfton, from D4 to D5 in mm. 10 – 11. In m. 11, the D5 directly shifts back to D4 for three and
half measures, which contains the 7 – 3 intervallic pattern (to be discussed below). Finally, the b’
part begins like the b part, but holds the D5 for a complete measure (m. 25) before moving back
to D 4 for three and half measures, before the final ^4 – ^3 – ^2 – ^1 progression.
109
3) Chromatic Thirds and the Relationship of Thirds.
This piece is greatly concerned with the mediant, both the scale degree and the harmony.
The mediant is presented at different levels in the b’ part, mm. 23 – 29 (see Figure 4.11). This
part begins in G major, but immediately moves to g minor. The notes in mm. 20 – 21 are
identical except for the change in scale degree ^3 from B-natural to Bb. In order to move to B-flat
major in m. 25, Franchomme uses modal mixture to shift from G major to g minor within two
measures. The connection between g minor and B-flat major (the diatonic third relationship) is
more common and direct than that between G major and B-flat major.
From B-flat major, Franchomme then employs enharmonic equivalence to return to G
major in an unexpected way. Schenker once claimed:
Modulation by enharmonic change, however, is particularly well suited to demonstrate that

the two tones which have undergone an enharmonic change remain basically as different as
they were before the use of temperation. This is explained by the fact that, after the
enharmonic change has been completed, i.e., in accordance with the new harmonic
phenomenon, the diatonic sphere suddenly becomes an entirely different one, so totally
different that there is no connection whatever between the keys to which the two
enharmonically exchaged tones of the triad belong.26
The enharmonic change in this case consists in the reinterpretation of Bb as A# in m. 27.
This A# (part of F# chord) becomes the leading tone to the natural mediant (iii) of G major. This
transition subtly transforms a flat-mediant to a natural-mediant. In other words, the return to G
major could not be achieved as quickly by means of two modulations – a shift from B-flat major
(a chromatic mediant) to B minor (the diatonic mediant) in the b’ part.
The mediants in mm. 26 – 29 are linked by the enharmonic note A#/Bb – the chromatic
third relationship. The effect is surprising and dramatic, and makes the b’ part the most
developmental in character. B-flat major shifts back to G major quickly in mm. 26 – 29, so that
26
110
the b’ part can keep the eight-measure form found in the refrain. At the middleground level, the
Bb and B-natural triads signify the relationship of thirds to G major: bIII and natural-III, shown
in Figure 4.12. This piece employs two kinds of third relationships: the diatonic and the
chromatic.
4) Subordinate Linear Progression with Motivic Parallelism.
In mm. 11 – 14, the bass motion from G down to D supports a harmonic progression
from I to V, while the intervening harmonies of the inner voice derive their strength from the
downward pull of the bass line. The subordinate linear progression of the inner voice that
prolongs the Kopfton D, shown in Figure 4.11, might be confused with the principal linear
progression of the top voice, in which the inner voice has the beamed fourth-progression D – C –
B – A in the descant. The same predominant chord of mm. 11 – 12 repeats twice, and then
resolves to a fifth, E – B. The prolongation of D of the upper voice consists of a register transfer
from D5 to D4 as well as a complete lower neighboring motion, D – C# – D. Also, this pattern of
D – C – B – A occurs one more time at a higher level, a copy in mm. 29 – 30, shown in Figure
4.13. Since the copy is half the length of the pattern, it is a contraction, which is disguised in the
descending ^5 – ^4 – ^3 – ^2 – ^1. As observed in the previous discussion, Franchomme used motivic
parallelism in his 12 Caprices, no. 9 as well as his no. 1. The pieces may be compared as follows:
(1) Both patterns are at lower levels. One of the copies of both pieces is a part of the final
^5 – ^4 – ^3 – ^2 – ^1 descending line.
(2) Franchomme’s no. 9 includes more copies than his no. 1.
(3) The copies of Franchomme’s no. 9 consist of two enlargements and one contraction,
while that of Franchomme’s no. 1 only has one contraction.
111
5) Form: Modified Binary Form.
This piece is in a modified binary form, consisting of AA’ sections and a coda, as shown
in Figures 4.11 and 4.14. In the “a” part, the Kopfton 5 (D4) is stated directly without any
complications. Attached to it are two motions: the ascending arpeggios to G in m. 2, and the
descending omnibus progression to D4 that was discussed previously. Instantly, it shifts back to
D3 and repeats the first four measures with a shortened omnibus progression. The whole “a” part
of the small binary form is only eight measures long, with two four-measure units: a (mm. 1 – 4)
and a’ (mm. 5 – 8).
 Figure 4.14: Diagram of Franchomme’s 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 1.
A A’ Coda
a b a b’ Coda
1 5 9 11 15 19 23 24 25 27 31
G: PAC AC AC AC AC g: Bb: AC G: PAC
I i IIIb I
The b section preserves some rhythmic and diminutional features of the “a” part. The
Kopfton 5 (D4) remains the primary tone of “a” as well, occurring in two registers as D4 and as
D5, which define the main tonal space in which the melody operates. In the first three measures,
the upper neighbor note A4 embellishes G4, within the prolongation of scale degree ^5. In the
second half of the b section (mm. 11 – 14), the inner voice presents a 7 – 3 – 7 – 5 pattern above
112
the bass, which outlines a large-scale ii – V progression that leads to the tonic. Both “a” and “b”
sections prolong the Kopfton, D, with register transfers above tonic harmony in the bass.
The A’ section is a bit different in content from section A, but is related to the b section
with new modulations. The “a” section is repeated here in the first half of the A’ section. The
foreground level of mm. 23 – 24 is very similar to mm. 9 – 10, except that the second measure
moves to g minor, with the change from B-natural to Bb. From the authentic cadence of mm.
24 – 25, it modulates to g minor’s relative major – B-flat major. As soon as it changes to B-flat
major, the neighbor note Eb asserts a V7 to I progression, confirming B-flat major. The bass pitch
Bь is reinterpreted enharmonically as A#, and the function of the A# chord is V6 of the B minor
4
chord – the mediant of G major in m. 28, followed by a V3 in m. 29. The final descent from the
Kopfton occurs in mm. 29 – 31, beginning with parallel tenths over the bass, with a complete
lower neighboring motion in mm. 29 – 30. The A’ section ends with a perfect authentic cadence
followed by a coda.
At the Middleground level (see Figure 4.12), the A section features an elaboration of I –
V – I, and the I – ii – V6 – I progression that ends the “b” section. The A’ section presents the
same material of “a” part and I – i – bIII – natural-III – ii – V6 – I for the b’ part. However, the b’
part is more chromatic than the first b part. Not only does it tonicize g minor and Bь major, it
also features the third relationships (B-flat major and b minor) at the climax in mm. 25 – 28. B-
flat major is a relative key to g minor, and g minor is a parallel key to G major. B-flat major can
be regarded a chromatic mediant to G major, and the move to b minor in mm. 27 – 28 may be
heard as a diatonic mediant to G major. Within only eight measures, the music goes through both
the chromatic mediant and the diatonic mediant, before the final descent and return to the tonic.
113
The length of the coda is as same as “a” part – eight measures. The coda repeats the V – I
motion for four measures, then moves to a stronger harmonic progression of V7 – I with a
complete neighboring figure (G – F# - G) in the upper voice. The dominants in the coda
function to prolong and extend the tonic. Some of the thematic motives in the coda are developed
from mm. 1 and 3 of the “a” part, provided in Figure 15. Measure 31 (a in Figure 4.15) is exactly
the same as m. 2. M. 32 (b in Figure 4.15) is a variation of m. 3: while the initial tones of each
sixteenth-note group are different, the rest of each beat has the C – A – C pattern from m. 3. In
the upper voice in m. 32, the D# forms an incomplete neighboring motion to E, unlike the upper
voice in m. 3. Also, the first two notes (G and B) are used in different permutations in the coda,
such as G4 – B3 – G2 – B3 in m. 35 and G4 – B3 – G2 – G2 in m. 36 (c in Figure 4.15).
114
II. 2 Piatti: 12 Caprices Op. 25 No. 1.
1) Obligatory Register.
The Kopfton D3 appears right in the beginning of the piece, shown in Figure 4.16. As we
shall see, the first twelve and a half measures has a repeated ground-bass figure on D3, the fifth
note of g minor. After a sequence of 7 – 6 linear motions leads to F#3 in m. 36, an implied G3
appears to resolve the dominant harmony of mm. 33 – 38, with its unfolded third from F#3 to D3.
Since this G3 of m. 43 is the fifth degree of c minor (due to the long dominant chord starting in
m. 33, the motion to C minor does not start until m. 43), this G3 note is the main note. However,
the prior statement is not fully correct. The main reason is that the D3 is the primary tone,
although it is hiding in the inner voice. It is first established in m. 1, moving up to D3 in m. 26,
D3 in m. 37, up to D4 again in m. 53, and finally shifting back to D3 in m. 63. The brief
modulation to c minor does lead to a “secondary Kopfton” G3, while the “primary Kopfton” D3
dominants the piece at the middleground level, provided in Figure 4.17. This obligatory register27
governs the structural upper voice of the piece (the obligatory register is established earlier in the
piece). One can say that this D3 comes from the unfolding gesture as well as the D3 in the bass
line. This Kopfton D3 permeates mm. 37 – 52 (and many other passages, including the beginning
where it is a pedal tone), thus relating and linking g minor and c minor harmonies through the
same notes (mm. 39 – 42 is exactly same as mm. 1 – 4). The D is a Kopfton formally before m.
39. After m. 39, the D3 just stays there and hides in the inner voice. Here, the D3 serves as a
common tone in the V – I progression in mm. 37 to 40; it is also the fifth of the dominant in C
minor in m. 43. In m. 52, the implied D3 becomes the fifth of the tonic in first inversion.
Above this obligatory register defined by the Kopfton D3, there is a covering progression
from m. 39 to m. 52. The line is from G3, F-natural3, Eb3 to G3 with two neighbor note
27
Forte and Gilbert, Introduction to Schenkerian Analysis, 262-264.
115
elaborations: Ab3 (an upper neighbor) in m. 47, and F#3 (a lower neighbor) in m. 51. Piatti
implies symmetry in two different ways: through the neighboring semitones around G3 in mm.
47 and 51, and through G3 – F3 – Eb3 and Eb3 – F#3 – G3 in mm. 40 – 52. (Theoretically, there
is one problem with G3 – F3 – Eb3 – F#3 – G3. This progression does not exit in this way. M. 50
^
has a Eb, not E-natural. Eb is scale degree natural-6 of G minor, and has a strong tendency to
descend to scale degree ^5 D. A direct motion from E-flat to F# is a dissonant augmented second,
which would not make a strong connection. Therefore, one should treat these five notes as two
separate lines, G3 – F3 – Eb3 and Eb3 – F#3 – G3). Figure 4.18 demonstrates these two lines in a
contrary motion, creating an arch shape with two relevant stepwise motions. The descending line,
G3 – F3 – Eb3 outline a ^5 – ^4 – ^3 progression in C minor, while the ascending line, Eb3 – F#3 –
G3, leads back to the G3 with its incomplete lower neighbor. The Eb3 is an incomplete upper
neighbor note to D3 in the inner voice, which is restated in m. 50.
116
 Figure 4.18: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1, the progressions of two separate upper
lines in mm. 40 – 52.
G3 G3
^5 in c minor ^1 in g minor
F3 F#3
^4 in c minor Lower incomplete neighbor note to G3
Eb3
3 in c minor + upper incomplete neighbor note to D in the inner voice of m. 50.
Furthermore, the upper voice in mm. 47 – 50 presents a 3 – 7 linear intervallic pattern
with the bass line, which leads from V to i in c minor through a harmonic sequence in
descending fifths (F3 – Bb3, Eb3 – Ab3 and D3 – G3). It should be clear at this point that the
upper line of mm. 40 – 52 is not the main linear progression, but a subsidiary foreground motion
attached to G3 (scale degree ^5 in c minor, or ^1 in g minor). The function G3 is to emphasize the
key of g minor, within the modulation between g minor and c minor.
117
2) Prolongation.
2.1. Unfolding of Small Scale.
According to Schenker, an unfolding gesture is one way to prolong a harmony.28 In mm.
17 – 26, the upper voice ascends to the primary tone D4 through Bb3 and C4, embellished by
two small-scale unfolding gestures. These are shown in Figure 4.16, using inward and outward
unfolding symbols respectively. The first unfolding occurs in mm. 17 – 23: The interval unfolded
is the third Bb – G above the bass Bb, embellished by a complete stepwise diatonic motion to F.
The upper voice and bass descend by step in mm. 17 – 19, resulting in four parallel sixths. On
the surface, this unfolding covers more than one harmony, which conflicts the definition of an
unfolding described before, because mm. 17 – 23 present a motion from a B-flat major harmony
(I) to an Eb harmony (IV). Actually, this unfolding Bb – G belongs to the subdominant rather
than the tonic. The basic reason is that Bb and G are not heard simultaneously. If this unfolding
were two different harmonies from I to IV, the harmonic progression would have led to a parallel
fifth (as illustrated in Figure 4.19), which of course is an improper voice-leading and was
therefore avoided.
The second unfolding is simpler: from A3 to C4 in the upper voice, which prolongs a
single harmony – V of B-flat major, with stepwise ascending motion in mm. 24 – 25. As before,
the upper voice and bass feature parallel motion, though now in ascending thirds. Finally the C4
in the upper voice in m. 25 leads to D4 in m. 26, supported by the V(6) – I progression. It is clear
that the upper voice goes from Bb3, C4 to D4 with some elaborations.
In terms of the direction of the two unfolding gestures, one can find an arch shape once
again. The left wing of the V consists of Bb, A, G and F, the right one A, Bb and C. If one only
counts the number of notes in the two wings, it is asymmetrical. However, the V is well balanced,
28
Forte and Gilbert, Introduction to Schenkerian Analysis, 253.
118
since the F can be excluded. (It does not take part in these mentioned motions.) The purpose of
these two unfolding gestures includes three aspects (which do not involve the F): the horizontal
motion Bb3 (m. 17) – C4 (m. 25) – D4 (m. 26), the unfolded thirds (Bb – G of mm. 17 – 23, A –
C of mm. 24 – 25), and the linear intervallic patterns (LIP) in parallel sixths and thirds.
These two unfolding gestures create a “mirror” effect, as shown in Figure 4.20. Within
the linear intervallic patterns, one can see three parallel 6ths, then the 5 – 6 – 5 neighbor motion,
followed by three parallel 3rds. The overall passage presents a descent followed by an ascent, in
parallel motion with the bass.
 Figure 4.20: Piatti 12 Caprices Op. 25 No. 1, Symmetry in mm. 17 – 25.
Upper voice: Bb3 A3 G3 F3 -------------- A3 -------- Bb3 C4
LIP: 6 6 6 5 6 5 3 3 3
The Bass: D3 C3 Bb2 Bb2 A2 Bb2 F3 G3 A
Group: 1 2 3
Center
{6 6 6 } 5 6 5 {3 3 3}
5 6 5
119
Note that the intervals in the two LIPs are complementary: the inversion of the sixth is the third.
In the central group of 5 – 6 – 5, the two fifths are symmetrical to each other, while the sixth is
the center. Furthermore, the two unfolded thirds are symmetrical, due to their movements
directions, provided in Figure 4.21.
2.2. The Movement of the Kopfton with Register Transfer.
The piece starts with the Kopfton D3, without any embellishment. However, the Kopfton
does not stay in the same register throughout the piece. Figure 4.22 and Figure 4.17 show how
the upper voice ascends to D4 in m. 26, and returns to D3 in m. 37: unusually, in an inner voice
rather than the top voice. This is a clear example of the register transfer of the Kopfton. After
repeating this reversed arch-shaped line one more time in mm. 53 and 63, the upper part outlines
the standard descending progression in g minor of mm. 63 – 77.
The two reversed arch-shaped lines comprise a series of linear patterns. The first reversed
V-shaped gesture consists of two unfolded thirds with parallel sixths and thirds (as discussed
previously in section 2.1), before reaching the D4 in m. 26. This D4 then descends to D3, mostly
by step, but with a consonant skip from F# to D at m. 37. At the same time, the bass essentially
descends from Bb3 to D3 in parallel motion, creating 6 – 7 linear patterns with the upper voice.
Perhaps Piatti intentionally chose six pairs of these linear patterns—that is, an even number—to
illustrate a sense of balance. The key progressions also illustrate symmetry. In the ascending part
of the arch in mm. 1 – 26, the music progresses from g minor to B-flat major, while the
descending part of the arch in mm. 26 – 37 moves from B-flat major back to g minor. Both
120
wings of the first reversed V encompass liner intervallic patterns and modulation, further
illustrating the idea of symmetry.
Compared to the first reversed arch, the second one between mm. 37 and 63 is much
simpler. The left side of the arch of mm. 47 – 50 features a 3 – 7 pattern supporting the linear
progression ^5 (G3) – ^4 (F3) – ^3 (Eb) in the motion to c minor. The right side of the arch of mm.
53 – 77 features a dominant pedal with embellishments, which make an augmented fourth
between the voices in m. 55 (C4 – F#4), and a diminished fifth in m. 58 (F#3 – C4), as may be
seen in Figure 4.16. Both dissonant intervals are immediately resolved, to a sixth and a third
respectively. Although these four notes (C4, F#4, F#3, and C4) are in different registers, they
point to a single property. First, two intervals related by inversion add up to an octave (4 + 5 = 9;
6 + 3 = 9); and two tritones add up to an octave; this leads to a fact: the neighbor motions F# – G
and C – B create a voice exchange, as shown in Figure 4.23. The voice exchange is followed by
a motion of ^2 (A3) – ^1 (G3) in mm. 60 – 62. Since the descent of the second arch is very close to
the ending, it presents a clear and extended dominant that leads to the final cadence.
These two reversed arch gestures demonstrate the composer’s possible use of symmetry.
The idea of symmetry appears in various ways, including the use of linear intervallic patterns,
melodic intervals, and register transfers. The direction of both voices generally follows the path
of the arch, both ascending and descending.
2.3. Emphasis on V.
When the upper voice moves back to the Kopfton D3, the bass line stays on the dominant
with scale-like embellishments in mm. 63 – 66. The bass voice ascends and descends the octave
between D3 to D4, with a complete upper neighbor note Eb4 in mm. 63 – 65. Figure 4.16 shows
121
that the extended dominant precedes the final upper voice descent of ^5 – ^4 – ^3 – ^2 – ^1, and the
cadential iv – V – i progression in mm. 67 – 70. To be precise, the dominant extension occurs
between scale degrees ^5 and ^4 of the upper voice. The upper voice ends on G2 in mm. 70 – 77: a
fifth below the opening D3, demonstrating Schenker’s theory about the overall descent of the
upper voice across the whole piece.
2.4. The Establishment of G minor.
Under the Kopfton D, a number of features strongly confirm a g-minor tonic in various
ways. The first five notes (G3, A3, Bb3, C4 and D4) of the g-minor scale, shown in Figure 4.17,
are outlined in the upper voice in mm. 9 – 26. Also, the composer used a triadic form to
emphasize the key. In mm. 30 – 39 and 52 – 53, the upper voice presents the tonic chord in
reverse order: D4 – Bb3 – G3. The first example is a secondary melody above the Kopfton D3 in
the inner voice, while the second passage features the tonic triad within the registral transfer
from D3 to D4. In all of these instances, the slurs between connect the pitches of the tonic
harmony to the Kopfton.
2.5. Tonicization.
There are two tonicization events, as illustrated in Figure 4.17. The tonicization of the
diatonic mediant of g minor is first established in m. 20, thus causing the D4 of m. 26 to become
the scale degree ^3 in B-flat major. The music returns to g minor after the 6 – 7 sequential pattern
in m. 32. However, it does not stay in g minor very long, and moves quickly to the subdominant
key of c minor in m. 44, supported by a false incomplete descent of ^5 (G3)– ^4 (F3) – ^3 (Eb3) in
mm. 48 – 50. These two tonicizations within in a short amount of time provide some instability.
122
However, even though they bring the harmony away from the original key, the upper voice
prolongs D from the beginning to nearly the end. If one looks at the original music, one can tell
this piece belongs to the group of compound melody with strong D pedals.
123
3) Form: Prelude Form.
This piece serves as a prelude for the whole set of Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25; the
succeeding pieces are longer, and more structurally complex. It is short, with no particular
internal form. The whole piece features a single rhythmic and melodic motif that is used in every
measure. There are constant sixteenth notes in 6/8 meter. The melodic motive is first stated in m.
1: the first three eighth notes, shown by downward stems in the score. These three notes – G, Bb
and A – include three intervals: a minor third (G to Bb), a minor second (Bb to A) and a major
second (G to A). The composer exploits these three intervals in the rest of the piece, including
the inversions of the three intervals and major thirds. Figure 4.24 illustrates several examples of
how later material is derived from the intervals first presented in m. 1. The interval contents
embrace major and minor seconds and thirds as well as their inversions.
From Figure 4.25, it shows the harmonic movement of g minor (i) – B-flat major (III) – g
minor (i) – c minor (iv) – g minor (i), reflecting the diatonic third and fifth relationships. The
opening four measures recur two more times in mm. 9 – 12 and mm. 39 – 42 distinctively. The
first recurring theme is in g minor, but the second one presents the transition between g minor
and c minor. In mm. 39 – 50, there is an incomplete descending progression ^5 – ^4 – ^3 of c minor
in mm. 48 – 50, secondary to the scale degree ^1 (G) of g minor.
124
Figure 4.25: Diagram of Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1.
Prelude form
1 9 16 17 26 32 39 44 49 62 67 70 – 77
g: PAC HC Bb: AC g: AC c: AC g: PC PC PAC
(i) (III) (i) (iv) (i)
Generally, harmonic progressions in the whole piece feature root motions by fifth, third,
and second.29 Such progressions include i - V – i, i – iv, i – VI – iv - i, i – ii° – V – I and i – iv –
V – I, as in most tonal music. As Schenker stated:
The step progression by fifths takes precedence over the third…. Progression by seconds
must be considered as a secondary derivation from progression by fifths and thirds.30
The progression by fifths of i – V – i dominates the whole piece. This results in an authentic
cadence in each modulation, such as mm. 24 – 26 in B-flat major, mm. 36 – 39 in g minor, and
mm. 39 – 44 in c minor. The most extended perfect authentic cadence i – V – i in g minor
happens in mm. 62 – 66, declaring the importance of the scale degree ^5 before the descending
line ^5 – ^4 – ^3 – ^2 – ^1.
This prelude form is somewhat similar to the Prelude of J.S. Bach’s Solo Suite for Cello
No. 1 in G major, BWV 1007:
29
Schenker, Harmony, 239 – 240.
30
Schenker, Harmony, 235 – 236.
125
First, both preludes are like an introduction, establishing the key with improvisatory
elements for the following pieces: Piatti’s no. 1 is the first piece of the whole set of 12 Caprices.
The whole set of 12 Caprices starts with g minor, preceding by E-flat major, B-flat major, d
minor, F major, A-flat major, C major, a minor, D major, b minor, G major and e minor. The
relationship between the pieces is either in submediant or fifth or mediant or relative key. The
first six pieces are in flat system, and the last four pieces are in sharp system. Bach’s Prelude,
BWV 1007 is the first movement of G-major suite. The prelude sets up the G major key for the
entire suite.
Second, both composers employed the same rhythm – sixteenth notes – for the whole
pieces, although they are in different meters. (Piatti’s no. 1 is in 6/8 meter, while Bach’s Prelude,
BWV 1007 is in 4/4 meter.) Not only rhythmic freedom, the prelude form also loosens thematic
construction, presents idiomatic virtuosity, and reflects frequent contemporaneous
observations.31
Third, both pieces contain repeated figure-bass figures, provided in Figure 4.26. The first
four measure of Bach’s Prelude always start with G2 for every other beat, emphasizing on the
tonic in G major, while Piatti’s no. 1 repeats the same pattern as previous discussed.
Fourth and finally, both pieces have a scale-like passage with dominant pedal in the end
of each piece, shown in Figure 4.27. Piatti’s no. 1 contains ascending and descending lines in
mm. 63 – 65, while Bach’s Prelude consists of only an ascending chromatic scale from D3 to
F#4.
31
126
4) Conclusion.
This piece powerfully suggests the presence of symmetry in several respects, such as the
unfolding of the obligatory register, unfolding on a smaller scale (unfolding at the foreground
level), and the movement of the Kopfton. One might wonder if Piatti really designed the piece
with this calculation in mind, by projecting even numbers at different levels. There is no way to
know the answer, but from the analysis, one might assume that Piatti is a mathematical composer.
127
II. 3 Conclusion of Franchomme’s No. 1 and Piatti’s No.1.
From the previous discussions, both pieces have the same Kopfton ^5 (D) and tonic – G,
and feature register transfers and compound melodies. However, they differ in several respects,
most notably in terms of form. For example, Franchomme’s no. 1 is quite sectional, using a
modified binary form. The Kopfton D stays in the upper voice in the most parts of
Franchomme’s no. 1. The central section of Franchomme’s no. 1 concentrates on the relationship
between III and bIII – the diatonic and chromatic third relationships. Franchomme repeats the
V – I progression repeatedly in the coda, after the final descending ^5 – ^4 – ^3 – ^2 – ^1.
On the other hand, Piatti made use of a continuous Prelude-like form. The obligatory
register defined by the Kopfton (D) remains in the inner voice for a period of time. The main
core of Piatti no. 1 is symmetry at various levels, such as two unfolding gestures in mm. 17 – 26
and the movement of the Kopfton D in mm. 1 – 37 and mm. 37 – 63.
Also, the ending of Piatti’s no. 1 delays the structural dominant to the end of the piece, as
part of the final ^5 – ^4 – ^3 – ^2 – ^1 descending line, which is different from the final descending
line of Franchomme’s no. 1. Franchomme and Piatti exploited the perception of symmetry and
mediants in unique styles. It is possible that Piatti tried to imitate Franchomme’s 12 Caprices,
beginning his set in a similar way.
128
Figures of Chapter Four
 Figure 4.1: Franchomme, 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 9, middleground.
129
 Figure 4.3: Franchomme, 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 9, foreground.
130
131
132
 Figure 4.4: Franchomme, 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 9, motivic parallelism.
133
 Figure 4.5: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 6, mm. 16 – 41, foreground, a succession of
minor thirds.
134
 Figure 4.7: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 6, foreground.
135
136
 Figure 4.8: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 6, middleground.
137
 Figure 4.9: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 6, mm. 28 – 34.
138
 Figure 4.10: Franchomme, 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 1, omnibus progression.
139
 Figure 4. 11: Franchomme, 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 1, foreground.
140
141
 Figure 4.12: Franchomme, 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 1, middleground.
142
 Figure 4.13: Franchomme, 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 1, motivic parallelism.
143
 Figure 4.15: Franchomme, 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 1, coda.
144
 Figure 4.16: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1, foreground.
145
146
 Figure 4.17: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1, middleground.
147
 Figure 4.19: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1, mm. 17 – 23, parallel 5ths.
148
 Figure 4.21: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1, mm. 17 – 25, two unfolding thirds.
149
 Figure 4.22: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1, the movement of Kopfton.
150
 Figure 4.23: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1, mm. 54 – 58, voice exchange.
151
 Figure 4.24: Piatti, 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1, melodic motif.
152
 Figure 4.26: Comparison between the preludes of Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1 and
Bach’s Suite for Cello Solo, No. 1, BWV 1007.
153
 Figure 4.27: Two passages from Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1 and Bach’s Prelude
from Suite for Cello Solo No. 1, BWV 1007.
154
Chapter Five
Integration of Analysis and Performance
The relationship between analysis and performance has been a topic of much scholarly
investigation. Since most of them were written from the analysts’ perspective, they often
emphasize the importance of the analyses for the performer. Many musicians believe that
analysis can assist the performer by offering a more complete understanding of a given
composition. Comments such as Donald Francis Tovey’s statement “Players should understand
what they play” 1 are fairly common in the literature on the topic. The assumption is that
performers can improve their understanding of pieces by analyzing them, and thus be in a better
position to make musical decisions about how they will perform a piece. This leads to four
questions about the analyst and the performer:
1. What is the relationship between the analyst and the performer?
2. Are the analyst and the performer in an equal and balanced position?
3. If the answer is “no,” who is the leader and who is the follower, or is there no hierarchical
relationship?
4. Is the performance merely a projection of the analysis?
After examining some ideas other scholars have had about the ways analysis might affect
performance, a more balanced view of the relationship will be proposed and illustrated.
1
Donald Francis Tovey, Companion to Beethoven’s Pianoforte Sonatas: Bar-by-bar Analysis (London:
Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music, 1998), 3.
155
I. The Opinions of Past Scholars.
In 1925, Schenker proposed a set of performance instructions based on his analysis of J.
S. Bach’s Violin Sonata in C Major.2 This sparked a series of debates among scholars regarding
the relationship between the analyst and the performer. A variety of ideas and approaches found
their way into published articles and books, beginning in earnest during the last quarter of the
twentieth century. In 1983, Roger Kamien addressed the notion that the performer can glean
useful information from multiple levels of analyses. His study focused on aspects of
ornamentation, time span between movements, and articulation of motivic connections between
themes, as well as meter and rhythm. He did not explain how the analyst can help the performer,
but he did emphasize that a performer should be able to choose what element (i.e. phrase,
recurring motive, etc.) to bring out in the performance.3
Two years later, Janet Schmalfeldt discussed the same issue by assuming two different
roles: that of an analyst and a performer. First, the analyst presented an analytic study on
Beethoven’s second set of Bagatelles, Op. 126, to the performer. Then the performer offered a
response. Afterwards, the performer provided a series of questions about Beethoven’s fifth set of
Bagatelles, Op. 126, and the analyst then answered these questions according to her analysis.
This mode of presentation puts the performer into a submissive role in the relationship between
the analyst and the performer. Despite the fact that the performer and analyst take turns speaking
first about the two bagatelles, the performer is still following the direction given by the analyst in
both cases. The problem with this method is determining whether or not the analysis is
2
John Rink, ed., The Practice of Performance: Studies in Musical Interpretation (Cambridge; New York:
Cambridge University Press, 1995), 197.
3
Roger Kamien, “Analysis and Performance: Some Preliminary Observations,” Israel Studies in
Musicology 3 (1983), 156 – 70.
156
convincing enough for the performer to follow. Schmalfeldt points out that even if two different
performers base their decisions on the same analysis of a work, the performances might still be
different. As she describes, “There is no single, one-and-only performance decision that can be
dictated by an analytic observation.”4 Accordingly, she argues that a good performer should have
a flexible approach when making interpretive decisions from a single analytical observation.
In a 1987 article, David Beach agrees with Kamien that analysis does indeed improve
performance. He believes that performances based on the knowledge gained from analysis
projects the meaning of a given piece to the audience most accurately and successfully. This
knowledge is gradually developed through analysis. However, in Beach’s model, the analyst
does not lead the performer. The analyst does play an important role to uncover the mysterious
points of a work, but rather than being a leader, he or she serves as a helper to “dig” inside a
composition. For example, his discussion of the first movement of Mozart’s Piano Sonata in A
Minor, K. 310, illustrates how the information should be translated into performance through
analyses of metric articulation, phrase structure, motivic repetition, and long- and short-term
goals.5
Within the last decade of the twentieth century, several articles addressed the
controversies about the relationship of the analysis and the performance, such as Cynthia Folio
(1991), Catherine Nolan (1993 – 1994), Joel Lester (1995), William Rothstein (1995), and
Nicolas Cook (1999). Nolan states that a performance is not only about projecting an analysis,
noting that a well-thought out analysis does not guarantee a good performance. There are more
factors that could affect a performance, including the performer’s physical and mental condition,
4
Janet Schmalfeldt, “On the Relation of Analysis to Performance: Beethoven’s Bagatelles Op. 126, Nos. 2
and 5,” Journal of Music Theory 29/1 (1985), 28.
5
David W. Beach, “The First Movement of Mozart’s Piano Sonata in A Minor, K. 310: Some Thoughts on
Structure and Performance,” Journal of Musicological Research 7/2 – 3 (1987): 157 – 159.
157
acoustics of the performance space, weather (which influences the instrument, hands, ears,
moods, etc), and the level of audience engagement, etc. Her article also encompasses the tensions
between the analysis and the performance: an analysis might limit the performer’s creativity or
inspiration. 6 She quotes two terms from Konrad Wolff: Theoretical analysis and Fruitful
analysis. The former refers to the idea that the performer has a responsibility to find out as much
as possible about the piece in every aspect. Wolff said that “there is no basis for interpretation in
most of this.”7 The latter indicates that the performer only can translate a part of an analysis into
performance, but not the entire analysis. The rest still relies on the performer to investigate what
happens in the piece. In other words, analysis is but one of several means to the end.
Joel Lester asserts that analysis can open the door for the performer to understand the
piece. He states: “Analysts should understand what it is they analyze, especially when the goal of
their analysis is to enlighten performers.”8 To “enlighten performers” implies that the performer
is the main subject in the activity of a performance. The performer has power to make choices
based on what is convincing and pleasant to the audience. After all, the performer is the one to
present the work on stage.
William Rothstein takes an opinion opposite to Kamien and Beach, claiming that it is
dangerous for a performer to know a piece only through analysis. He states that performers need
to concern themselves with both analytical and dramatic truth. The main reason for this is that
most listeners go to concerts for “magical” powers instead of an analytical demonstration. He
6
Catherin Nolan, “Reflections on the Relationship of Analysis and Performance,” College Music
Symposium 33 – 34 (1993 – 94), 114 – 15.
7
Konrad Wolff, Schnabel’s Interpretation of Piano Music, ed. Alfred Brendel (New York: W.W. Norton &
Company, 1979), 18 – 9.
8
Joel Lester, “Performance and Analysis: Interaction and Interpretation,” in John S. Rink, ed., The Practice
of Performance: Studies in Musical Interpretation (New York: Cambridge Univ., 1995), 214.
158
called the meaning of a work “truth.” The truth needs to be presented from two sides:
analytically and dramatically. Only when the work presents two truths will the composition and
the performer become one. When the performer can thoroughly absorb the spirit of the piece into
performance, then the performer is engaged to play with the work instead of playing the work.
He also argues that the performer has the power to deliver various messages to the audience,
noting that every composition has one or more meanings behind it. In order to do so (according
to Lester):
The performer’s aim in undertaking an analysis is not only to understand the work
for its own sake – performance is not so disinterested an activity as that – but to
discover, or create a musical narrative…. The performer’s task is to provide the
listener with a vivid experience of the work, not an analytical understanding of it.9
Nicholas Cook focuses on the value of music theory from a theorist’s perspective. An
analysis is a production of literature. The quality of music theory is not only a description of a
work, it also involve elements of performance. Reading analyses by a performer is essential to
the understanding of a composition, as it enhances the awareness of the performer about the
details of a piece of work. The status of music theory should be equal to that of performance. It is
also important that performance and analysis should interact with each other, as in a
conversation.10 As Cook described:
If analysis and performance are to be seen as interlocking modes of musical

knowledge, then they should be pursued simultaneously and interactively, not in
succession. Or to put it in another way, analysis should be seen as a means of
posing articulate questions.11
9
Lester, “Performance and Analysis: Interaction and Interpretation,” 237 – 38.
10
Nicolas Cook, “Analysing Performance and Performing Analysis,” in Nicolas Cook and Mark Everist,
ed., Rethinking Music (New York: Oxford University, 1999), 239 – 61.
11
Cook, “Analysing Performance and Performing Analysis,” 248.
159
II. My Own View.
The exact proportion of contributions between the analyst and the performer is not the
central concern in this chapter. Analysis can indeed broaden the view of the performer toward a
piece of music, but it is the performer’s job to make a final decision to choose how and when to
translate the analytical language into the actual performance. Nevertheless, there are still some
issues outside this cooperative enterprise.
I believe that the performer should interact with the analyst rather than merely take
directives. In this I differ from models proposed by Wallace Berry, for example, who gives
specific directions to the performer in his Musical Structure and Performance. Here, the analyst
becomes a leader in the process of learning a piece in preparation for live performance, and the
performer is merely a follower.12 I do not agree with Berry’s methodology, for I find that the
relationship between the analyst and the performer is very ambiguous in terms of both the
process of a performance and the audience’s view. The analyst presents the composition in an
abstract way so that the performer can view the composition at several levels. It is then up to the
performer to choose as to which part of the analysis is useful to the performance and which part
is not, like Kamien’s view. The performer might have his/her own view, based on his abundant
performance experiences and knowledge. In a way, their relationship is like that of the teacher
and student: The teacher transmits the knowledge to the students, but ultimately it is the student
who chooses what knowledge to absorb.
Unconcerned with the relationship between analyst and performer, the audience only
cares about the final product: the performance itself. They attend concerts primarily to have a
12
Wallace Berry, Musical Structure and Performance (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989), 222.
160
vivid experience of the work, 13 as Rothstein claims. The relationship between analyst and
performer is not their concern at all, for this subject actually is not the primary objective of a
performance. Who is the leader? Who is the follower? There is no leader-follower relationship
clearly demonstrated in the concert hall. However, an audience member would probably favor
the performer if asked which is more important. After all, the performer is the one to face the
audience directly.
Most of the time, the success of a performance depends on the degree to which the
audience accepts the performance. Consequently, I would strongly suggest that the performer is
the dominant character, expanding Lester’s model. My suggestion only exists in one condition:
when the performer is playing the work on stage. After each performance, comments emerge
from the audience and music critics alike. Most of the time, this criticism is directed toward the
performer’s interpretation and techniques or the composition itself; no attention would be given
to the analysis or the analyst. The interpretation is attributed to the performer alone. Hardly
anyone would ask which theoretical model the performer chooses to present when interpreting
the work.
Most performers in the present time have had substantial training in theory as part of their
musical education. There are times, however, when contradictions between the performer and the
analyses might emerge. For example, in the first phrase of Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25, no. 1
(Figures 4.16 and 5.1), the D3 is the dominant note in g minor. Functionally, this note is the
starting point, scale degree 5 in g minor. However, this D3 is repeating six times per bar. In
addition, the D3 is an open string which produces much louder sound than other notes. In
practice, the performer should put more emphasis on the floating melodies rather than the D3.
13
William Rothstein, “Analysis and the Act of Performance,” in John S. Rink, ed., The Practice of
Performance: Studies in Musical Interpretation (New York: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1995), 237 – 38.
161
When performing, the performer should aim for the melody with heavier weight and play the D3
with very light touch. At this moment, the performer and the analyst would discuss the
differences, and then the performer should make a final decision. In the process, their interaction
concerns the practicability of the analysis during the performance. If they choose element A
rather than B, both of them need to think thoroughly about the stage effect from the audience’s
view as Rothstein mentioned before.
As Nolan claimed, the preparation for a performance must account for factors that cannot
be aided by analysis. Nolan does mention that one needs to consider the physical condition of the
performer. Other factors could also complicate the performance situation, such as the
performer’s mental and physical conditions, technical maturity as well as the performance venue.
Due to stage fright, the performer might loose muscular control physically as well as
concentration mentally. Sometimes the performer’s technique is simply inadequate to meet the
expectations of composer and analyst. If there are a lot of echoes on stage, the performer may
need to make the stroke shorter and the pianist may try to use less pedal. If the hall has poor
acoustics, the performer may need to raise the volume in order to project adequately. The
performer should take a great deal of consideration about these unexpected situations and to
come up with some alternative solutions. This ability to be flexible in performance, as well as
intimacy between analyst and performer, is the key to a good performance. Duties of both the
analyst and the performer are to translate the work into their own musical language and present
the audience with their view of the piece’s quintessence as investigated through analysis and
practice.
162
III. Examples.
The following examples introduced in Chapter Four offers suggestions as to how analysis
might relate to performance. Schenker remarked, “Every true work of art has but one true
performance…. The hand may not lie; it must follow the meaning of the voice-leading.” 14
Although my analysis mainly focuses on voice-leading based on Schenker’s theory, this does not
mean that it is the only way to exhibit a work. A good musician would express improvisatory
freedom and spontaneity in the performance.
a) Franchomme: 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 9.
The first phrase (mm. 1 – 6) of Franchomme’s no. 9 reflects the sadness in the sailing
motion. The first two bars convey the thought of mystery about the life in the soft tonic. The next
four bars are like memories to recall this person’s life, including happiness and excitement in an
agitated mood, which ends in the forte dominant. The fermata on the rest immediately appears at
the end of the phrase, highlighting the tension. Since Franchomme was imitating Chopin’s style,
the music tended to have a lot of arpeggiations and decorative notes. Following the analysis, both
players should emphasize the main lines with intense vibrato on the left hand (Figures 4.3 and
4.2). In order to convey the dynamic changes in the opening statement, the first two bars should
be played near the fingerboard with flute-like strokes. Once it gets to m. 5 with crescendo and
agitato markings, the stroke needs to be short and to be played near the frog of the bow.
b) Piatti: 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 6.
It is necessary to set up the arpeggiated gestures in the opening of Piatti’s no. 6 by
emphasizing the long note, provided in Figure 4.3. This grounding enables the arpeggio and runs
14
Rothstein, “Analysis and the Act of Performance,” 217.
163
to be played fast and light with little effort. For the first phrase (mm. 1 – 7) can be subdivided
into three smaller units: 2 + 2 + 3. In each unit, the player should only emphasize on the starting
note and the highest note. From mm. 9 to 11, these runs are based on the same patterns. Although
they have the same value of the thirty-second notes, one should avoid playing them in its exact
rhythm. Instead, one should focus on the progression C4 (m. 9) – Db (m. 10) – D (m. 11) to the
primary tone Eb (m. 12). After it arrives on the downbeat of m. 12, other arpeggiations are like
decorations within the dominant harmony in A-flat major.
The relationship of “leading” and “following” lines in mm. 28 – 34 of Piatti no. 6
established a strong descending line with parallel sixths. (Figures 4.7 and 5.4) In order to show
this relationship, the “leads” which are the top notes in mm. 30 – 33 should be played more than
the “follows”. Since the “follows” comprise a sequence of four sixteenth notes with third
relationship, the player should only give emphasis to the first note per four-sixteenth notes. It is
the first note that forms a sixth with the “leads.” The pattern of sixteenth notes is just a muttering
effect underneath the primary melody. The dynamics of this descending line should correspond
to the harmonic progression as indicated in the music. The whole phrase should decrescendo as it
moves from dominant of m. 30 to tonic of m. 32, illustrated in Figure 5.4. It starts with Eb5 in
fortissimo, followed by the sequential sixths, and then the diminuendo begins on the gesture of
the complete higher neighboring motion, which occurs in the beginning of the phrase before. Not
only this diminuendo, but also rallantando (“becoming slower”) happens here to recall the same
motive and to articulate the resolution to the tonic.
164
c) Franchomme: 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 1.
Dynamics should be used to show the Omnibus progression in mm. 3 – 4 of
Franchomme’s no. 1, provided in Figures 4.11 and 5.5. The tension of the Omnibus progression
should be maintained until the resolution in m. 5. During the Omnibus progression of mm. 3 – 4,
the player should bring out the harmonic changes with a crescendo and a decrescendo. The
Violoncello I repeats the first two beats of m. 3 for three times, whereas the Violoncello II does
the same thing. Following the original presentation, the next two times should be played as echos.
The third and fourth beats of m. 4 needs to be strong since they are a part of the Omnibus
progression; the fundamental F – F# – G ascending motion in the Violoncello II will be
announced not with accents but rather by a slight crescendo to the tonic G. The music does
contain a decrescendo in m. 4, but this does not necessarily require a decrescendo in dynamics.
Rather, it is a relief after the Omnibus progression. The player should express the tension less
and less when it gets to the end of Omnibus.
Since the “C” section (See Figures 4.11 and 5.6) is the most developmental, the
performer should consider how to make this climax special in terms of color and linear motion.
Contrasting dynamics should be used to highlight the modal mixture between mm. 23 – 24: forte
in m. 23 and piano in m. 24, in which the dynamic contrast demonstrates the brightness of G
major in m. 23 and the darkness of g minor in m. 24. The neighbor and main notes should be
elongated in mm. 25 – 28. During the transition between Bb and A# in m. 27, there is a sudden
piano marking on the third beat. One should move the bow near the fingerboard to make this
distinguished soft sound and keep piano for two and a half bars until m. 30. Within the crescendo
in m. 30, the Violoncello I should play the following notes heavier: G#2, B3 (beat 1), A2, C4
(beat 2), D3, B3 (beat 3), D3, A3 (beat 4), while the Violoncello II needs to emphasize on the
165
first two beats, because these notes represent the principal linear motions. Since Piatti mixed the
top voice and the bass together in the first violoncello part, it is important to understand the
direction of the harmonic progression. The downbeat of m. 31 is a big moment marked by the
arrival of a perfect authentic cadence.
d) Piatti: 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1, mm. 60 – 77.
With the ending of Piatti’s no. 1, I have always wanted to project the effect of a great
triumph to achieve the emphasis on the dominant in mm. 63 – 65 before the perfect authentic
cadence in mm. 65 – 66, shown in Figure 5.7. An understanding of the basic idea of compound
melodic structure has helped me to regulate that energy. Although D3 is the primary tone, it
repeats over and over in these three measures. Because D3 is an open string, it is very effortless
to produce. Due to these two reasons, the player should focus on the scale-like arpeggiations
with crescendo marking to express the dominant embellishments, while the D3 needs to be
played in a lighter weight. Also, an atmosphere of relief should be expressed in this cadence. By
lengthening the ascending line of mm. 69 – 70 (D2 – E2 – F#2 – G2), the performer can bring
out the perfect authentic cadence. The technical difficulty to this perfect authentic cadence is that
the performer has to play detaché stroke at the tip of bow for a period of time.
166
IV. Conclusion.
The relationship between analyst and performer must be viewed in light of the end goal:
executing an effective performance. The analysis is like a road map for the performer, giving
specific directions regarding harmony, phrasing, and other aspects of structure. These didactic
analyses offered by music theorists are often presented in technical language and by graphic
means. From the analytic findings, the performer gains insights into the music that may influence
the performance. It is the performer’s job to translate this “professional language” into particular
performance language and to integrate the analyses into the performance, as illustrated through
the examination of the caprices by Franchomme and Piatti. The process of discovery and
preparation of a committed interpretation is time-consuming and a challenge for the performer.
The analyst and the performer should share each other’s experiences, learn from each other, and
commit to the accomplishment of the performance. Then, the benefits of the analysis can be
maximized, enhancing their contribution to the actual performance or to a more nuanced
understanding of the work.
167
Figures of Chapter Five
 Figure 5.2: Franchomme, 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 9, mm. 1 – 6.
168
 Figure 5.4: Piatti: 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 6, mm. 27 – 34
169
170
171
172
173
Conclusion
In the nineteenth century, the cantabile and virtuosic playing of the cello acquired
significant importance. Generations of romantic composers made use of the cello’s
unique capabilities, giving expression to melodic sonority and melancholy resignation.
Although Franchomme and Piatti are recognized today as the most distinguished cellists
in the nineteenth century, their reputation as composers has lagged far behind; most of
their works are rarely performed. But it is impossible to ignore Franchomme’s close
friendship with Chopin and his involvement in two of Chopin’s compositions by giving
technical advice and editing assistance to the cello parts: the Polonaise Brillante, Op. 3,
and his last major work, the Cello Sonata, Op. 65, both of which were dedicated to
Franchomme. The talent of Piatti inspired Mendelssohn to write a cello concerto,
although the manuscript was lost in the mail. On the basis of Piatti’s works, one can
assume that Piatti continued Franchomme’s path to develop more complicated cello
techniques.
The two sets of 12 Caprices by Franchomme and Piatti (Op. 7 and Op. 25,
respectively) were both written for the purpose of cello pedagogy, and exhibit
complementary stylistic attributes. These two books demonstrate not only the evolution
of nineteenth-century cello technique, but also promote technical maturity in the cello
repertoire. Whereas Piatti’s etudes feature more demanding left- and right-hand
techniques such as high registers for the thumb position and more advanced bowing (i.e.
ricochet and martele), Franchomme’s etudes focus on the lower register and fingering
establishment, and less on bowing requirements.
174
Both masterworks exhibit many typical features of nineteenth-century music.
Franchomme’s writing is more like Chopin’s and Liszt’s, in terms of voice-leading and
harmonic third relationships. Piatti’s works present his more personal style, especially his
use of symmetry. Franchomme based his composition on voice-leading concerns,
whereas Piatti was more concerned with the technical side of cello performance. The 12
Caprices by Piatti are technically more demanding, and therefore have been better
received by more advanced cello players. The final chapter discussed the importance of
integrating analysis and performance, along with providing some examples on this topic.
As a performer, it is very important to absorb all the information contained in a
given work, including its analytical and historical background. In order to make a vivid
performance, a performer should not only overcome technical difficulties, but also
investigate the piece at a deeper level through different modes of analysis. One not only
has to master the cello techniques, but also understands the history and origins of each
technique. In this document, I have examined the differences between Franchomme’s and
Piatti’s compositional styles, and the demands of their cello techniques. Although these
two works are written only several decades apart, Piatti’s Caprices are clearly more
complex, illustrating the revolutionary technical developments of the cello in the
intervening years. The integration of analysis and performance provides a new
perspective for the performer and analyst alike. Nevertheless, my analyses based on
Schenker’s theory are just one way to present the music. I hope that these analyses might
stimulate players to think about music from different points of view.
The cello has a particularly fascinating and important place in every genre of
music. This document allows one to have a broader view on the history of cello
175
techniques and repertoires, and give more credit to these two works by Franchomme and
Piatti, as well as highlight their abilities as composers. Not only are these two works like
daily bread for cellists, but also their existence can be treated as concert repertoire in the
way of Chopin’s Etudes for Piano Solo, Op. 10 and Op. 25.
176
Bibliography
Books
Adeney, Marcus. Tomorrow’s Cellist: Explore the Bass of Artistry. Canada: The
Frederick Harris Music Co. Limited, 1984.
Alexander, F. Matthias. The Use of the Self. New York: E. P. Dutton and Co. Inc, 1932.
Alexanian, Diran. Complete Cello Techniques; the Classic Traits on Cello Theory and
Practice. New York: Dover Publication, 2003.
Azoury, Pierrer. Chopin through his contemporaries: friends, lovers, and rivals.
Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1999.
Bächi, Julius. Famous cellists: Portraits of Master Cellists from Boccherini to Casals and
from Paul Grümmer to Rostropovitch. Switzerland: Atlantis Zurich, 1973.
Barzanò, Annalisa Lodetti. Signor Piatti (1822-1901): Cellist, Composer, Avant-gardist.

Translated by Clarice Zdanski. Kronberg im Taunus: Kronberg Academy Verlag,
2001.
Berry, Wallace. Musical Structure and Performance. New Haven: Yale University Press,
1989.
Bunting, Christopher. Cello Technique, from One Note the Next: A Distillation for
Students of Christopher Bunting’s Essay on the Craft of Cello Plying. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1987.
Caughley, Graeme. Conservation biology in Theory and Practice. Cambridge: Blackwell

Science, 1996.
Cook, Nicolas, and Mark Everist, ed. Rethinking Music. New York: Oxford University,
1999.
Cowling, Elizabeth. The Cello. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1983.
Deák, Stephen. David Popper. Neptune City, N.J.: Paganiniana Publications, 1980.
Duport, Jean Louis. Essai sur le doigté du violoncelle et sur la conduite de l'archet. Paris:
A. Cotelle, 184-?.
Eisenberg, Maurice. Cello Playing of Today. London: The Strad, 1957.
Epperson, Gordon. Violoncello Techniques. New York: MCA Inc., 1971.
177
________. The Art of Cello Teaching. [S.l.]: American String Teachers Association,
1980.
Fenby, Eric. Menuhin’s House Music: An Impression of the Yehudi Menuhin School at
Stoke d’Abernon Surrey England with a Forewod by Yehudi Menuhin. New York:
Praeger Publishers, 1969.
Forte, Allen and Steven E. Gilbert. An Introduction to Schenkerian Analysis. New York:
Norton, 1982.
Ginsburg, Lev. History of the Violoncello. Neptune City, NJ: T.F.H. Publication, 1983.
Gauldin, Robert. A Practical Approach to Eighteenth-Century Counterpoint. Englewood

Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1988.
Horsfall, Jean. Teaching the Cello to Groups. London: Oxford University Press, 1974.
Jonas, Oswald. Introduction to the theory of Heinrich Schenker: the nature of the musical
work of art. Translated and edited by John Rothgeb. New York: Schirmer Books,
1982.
Kennan, Kent. Counterpoint Based on Eighteenth-Century Practice. Upper Saddle River,

NJ: Prentice Hall, 1999.
Kenneson, Claude. A Cellist’s Guide to the New Approach. New York: Exposition Press,
1974.
Kopp, David. Chromatic transformations in nineteenth-century music. Cambridge; New

York: Cambridge University Press, 2006.
Landon, Joseph W. Leadership for Learning in Music Education. Costa Mesa: Music
Educational Media Press, 1980.
Mantel, Gerhard. Cello Techniques, Principal and Forms of Movement. Bloomington:

Indiana University Press, 1975.
Markevitch, Dimitry. Cello Story. New Jersey: Summy-Birchard Music, 1984.
Randel, Don Michael. The New Harvard Dictionary of Music. Cambridge, Massachusetts,
London: Harvard University Press, 2003.
Pleeth, William. Cello. New York: Schirmer Books, 1982.
Romberg, Bernhard. A complete theoretical and practical school for the violoncello.
Boston, O. Ditson, 19-?.
178
Prieto, Carlos. The Adventure of a Cello. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1998.
Rink, John ed. The Practice of Performance: Studies in Musical Interpretation.

Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1995.
Schetky, Johann. Practical and Progressive Lessons for the Violoncello. London: János
Scholz Cello Music Collection, 1811.
Schenker, Heinrich. Free composition = (Der freie Satz). Translated and edited by Ernst
Oster. New York: Longman, 1979.
_________. Harmony. Edited by Oswald Jonas and Translated by Elisabeth Mann

Borgese. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980.
Schleuter, Stanley L. A Sound Approach to Teaching Instrumentalists: an Application of

Content and Learning Sequences. New York: Schirmer Books, 1997.
Schmid-Adamczyk, Bozena. A presentation of the Gran duo de Robert le Diable by F.

Chopin and A. Franchomme for piano 4 hands op. 15 from the sources, and
particularly the original edition of Maurice Schlesinger found in the collection of
the Musée F. Chopin et G. Sand at Valldemossa. Poland, 2003.
Stowell, Robin, ed. The Cambridge Companion to the Cello. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1999.
Straeten, Edmund S.J. Van. History of the Violoncello, the Viol da Gamba, their
Precursors and Collateral Instruments. London: Lowe & Brydone Ltd., 1971.
Tchistyakova, Tanya. Western violoncello art of the 19th and 20th centuries, excluding
Russian and Soviet schools. Translated by Lev Ginsburg. Neptune City, N.J.:
Paganiana Publications, 1983.
Tilliere, Joseph Bonaventure. New and Complete Instructions for the Violoncello.
London: Musica Ltd., 1988.
Tortelier, Paul. Technique et Art du Violoncello. Quebec: Les press de I’Universite Laval,
1994.
Tovey, Donald Francis. Companion to Beethoven’s Pianoforte Sonatas: Bar-by-bar

Analysis. London: Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music, 1998.
Walden, Valerie. One Hundred years of Violoncello: a History of Techniques and

Performance Practice, 1840-1840. Cambridge: Cambridge Press, 1995.
Wasielewski, Wilhelm Joseph. The Violoncello and its History. New York: Da Capo
Press, 1968.
179
Wolff, Konrad. Schnabel’s Interpretation of Piano Music. Edited by Alfred Brendel.
New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1979.
Journal Articles
Baker, Sandra. “Some Steps to Classroom Management.” American Suzuki Journal 33,
no. 1 (Fall 2004): 31-2.
Beach, David W. “The First Movement of Mozart’s Piano Sonata in A Minor, K. 310:
Some Thoughts on Structure and Performance.” Journal of Musicological
Research 7/2-3 (1987): 157-79.
Berenson, Gail and Scott M. “Essential Skills for Promoting a Lifelong Love of Music
and Music Making.” American Music Teacher 55, no. 1(August/September 2005):
26-30.
Burkhart, Charles. “Schenker’s Motivic Parallelisms.” Journal of Music Theory 22, no. 2
(Autumn 1978): 145-75.
Cinnamon, Howard. “Tonic Arpeggiation and Successive Equal Third Relations as

Elements of Tonal Evolution in the Music of Franz Liszt.” Music Theory
Spectrum 8 (Spring 1986), 1-24.
Gipson, Ann M. “Group Lessons = Positive Results.” American Music Teacher 55, no. 2
(December/January 2005-2006): 19-21.
Gross, Sally. “What’s Between the Fingers.” American Suzuki Journal 33, no. 1 (Fall
2004): 25.
Johansen, Ken. “What do you Think about When You Play?” American Music Teacher
55, no. 1 (August/September 2005): 31-8.
Kallberg, Jeffery. “Chopin’s Last Style.” Journal of American Musicological Society 38,
no. 2 (Summer 1985): 264-315.
Kamien, Roger. “Analysis and Performance: Some Preliminary Observations.” Israel

Studies in Musicology 3 (1983): 156-70.
Matthew, Brown. “The Diatonic and the Chromatic in Schenker’s Theory of Harmonic
Relations.” Journal of Music Theory 30, no. 1 (Spring 1986): 1-33.
Nolan, Catherin. “Reflections on the Relationship of Analysis and Performance.” College

Music Symposium 33-34 (1993-94): 112-39.
180
Parks, Richard S. “Voice Leading and Chromatic Harmony in the Music of Chopin.”
Journal of Music Theory 20, no. 2 (Autumn 1976): 189-214.
Reilly, Sally O’. “Getting a Jump on Advanced String Techniques.” The Instrumentalist
49 (October 1994): 36-49.
Ruhlmann, Sophie. “Chopin and his Fraternal Friend Auguste Franchomme.” Revue
internationale d'études musicales, no. 15 (2000): 273-81.
Samson, Jim. “Reviewed work(s): Cello Sonata; Grand Duo Concertant; Introduction and
Polonaise by Frederick Chopin.” Early Music 8, no. 4 (October 1980), 573.
Sheldon, Deborah and Gregory, Denardo. “Comparison of Higher-Order Thinking Skills

among Prospective Freshman and Upper-Level Preservice Music Education
Majors.” Journal of Research in Music Education 53, no. 1(Spring 2005): 40-50.
Schmalfeldt, Janet. “On the Relation of Analysis to Performance: Beethoven’s Bagatelles

Op. 126, Nos. 2 and 5.” Journal of Music Theory 29/1 (1985): 1-31.
Telesco, Paula J. Telesco. “Enharmonicism and the Omnibus Progression in Classical-

Era Music.” Music Theory Spectrum 20, no. 2 (Autumn 1998), 242-79.
Tunca, Ozan. “Cello Etude Books in Popularity Contest: The Most Commonly Used.”
American String Teacher (August 2004): 54-7.
On-line source
Chew, Geoffrey. “Legato.” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. 10 Jan. 2009
<http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.proxy.libraries.uc.edu/subscriber/article/gro
ve/music/16290>.
________, and Clive Brown. “Staccato.” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. 17
Sep. 2008
ve/music/26498>.
Childs, Paul. “Tourte.” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. 11 Oct. 2008
ve/music/28231pg3>.
Cyr, Mary, and Valerie Walden. “Duport.” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online.
11 Oct. 2008
ve/music/08356pg2>.
Field, Christopher D.S. et al. “Fantasia.” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. 23
Octorber 2008
181
ve/music/40048>.
Fuller, David, and Bruce Gustafson. “Corrette, Michel.” Grove Music Online. Oxford
Music Online. 11 Oct. 2008
ve/music/06563>.
Monosoff, Sonya. “Pizzicato.” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. 14 Oct. 2008
ve/music/21883>.
Moran, John. “Merk, Josef.” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. 11 Oct. 2008
ve/music/46104>.
Salvetti, Guido, and Valerie Walden. “Lanzetti, Salvatore.” Grove Music Online. Oxford
Music Online. 20 Sep. 2008
ve/music/16008>.
Sassmannshaus, Kurt. “Master Classes.” Violin Masterclass: The Sassmannshaus

Tradition for Violin Playing. http://violinmasterclass.com/mc_menu.php
(accessed November 18, 2008).
Smart, Mary Ann et al. “Bellini, Vincenzo.” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online.
30 Jan. 2009
ve/music/02603>.
Thompson, Wendy and Jane Bellingham. “capriccio.” The Oxford Companion to Music.
Ed. Alison Latham. Oxford Music Online. 22 Feb. 2009
<http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.proxy.libraries.uc.edu/subscriber/article/opr/
t114/e1159>.
Walden, Valerie. “Franchomme, Auguste.” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online.
30 Jan. 2009
ve/music/10107>.
Theses and Dissertations

Anderson, Jack Erik. “The Cellist's Right Hand: a Guidebook for Pedagogy and
Practice.” D.M.A. Thesis, University of Cincinnati, 2001.
Lee, Shiang-yin. “Strategies for Selecting and Teaching Contest Music for the Young
Cellist: Pedagogical Analyses of Selected Compositions of the Class 2 Cello
182
Solos of the University of Texas Interscholastic League Prescribed Music List,
1995-1998.” Master's thesis, University of Texas at Austin, 2003.
Proctor, Gregory. “Technical Bases of Nineteenth-Century Chromatic Tonality: A Study

in Chromaticism.” Ph. D. diss., Princeton University, 1978.
Wociechowski, Tomasz J. “The Essence of Instrumental Technique in David Popper's

High School of Cello Playing, op. 73, in Comparison with Some Other Important
Collections of the Era, with Emphasis on Alfredo Piatti's 12 Caprices, Op. 25.”
D.Mus. diss., Indiana University, 2003.
Published Music Scores

Baillot, P. J. H. Levasseur. Méthode de violoncello et de basse d’accompagnement. Paris:
A l’Imprimerie du Conservatoire, 1805.
Baudiot, Charles Nicolas. Violoncelle: méthodes, études, ouvrages généraux. Courlay,

France: Fuzeau, 2003.
Corrette, Michel. Méthode théorique et pratique: pour apprendre en peu de temps le

violoncelle dans sa perfection. Genève: Minkoff Reprint, 1980.
Franchomme, Auguste. Twelve Caprices, Opus 7 [For Two Cellos]. A Kalmus classic
edition, K 04701. Miami: Warner Bros. Publications, 2002.
Kummer, Friedrich August. Violoncello method with an appendix containing one

hundred and eleven practice-pieces. New York: G. Schirmer, 1900.
Piatti, Alfredo. Twelve Caprices for Violoncello Solo Opus 25. Munich: G. Henle, 2003.
Reinagle, Joseph. Thirty Progressive Lessons: for the Violoncello (1800). Nutley, N.J.:
Grancino Editions, 1982.
Starker, Janos. An organized method of string playing: violoncello exercises for the left
hand. New York: Peer International Corp, 1965.
Recordings
Franchomme, Auguste. Twelve caprices, op. 7. Excerpts read by the author. Koch
International Classics CP 3-7226-2H1, 1994. Sound Recording.
Piatti, Alfredo. 12 capricci, op. 25. Excerpts read by the author. Arts Music CP47639-2,
2001. Sound Recording.
183
Appendix (Music)
1) A. Franchomme: 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 1.
2) A. Franchomme: 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 9.
3) A. Piatti: 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1.
4) A. Piatti: 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 6.
184
 Franchomme: 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 1.
185
186
187
 Franchomme: 12 Caprices, Op. 7, No. 9.
188
189
190
 Piatti: 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 1.
191
192
 Piatti: 12 Caprices, Op. 25, No. 6.
193
194

Analytic Comparison Franchomme Piatti PDF

Diunggah oleh

Informasi Dokumen

Judul Asli

Hak Cipta

Format Tersedia

Bagikan dokumen Ini

Bagikan atau Tanam Dokumen

Opsi Berbagi

Apakah menurut Anda dokumen ini bermanfaat?

Apakah konten ini tidak pantas?

Hak Cipta:

Format Tersedia

Analytic Comparison Franchomme Piatti PDF

Diunggah oleh

Hak Cipta:

Format Tersedia

U

This work and its defense approved by:

Approval of the electronic document:

Committee Chair signature: Dr. David C. Berry

A thesis submitted to the

Division of Graduate Studies and Research

In partial fulfillment of the

DOCTOR OF MUSICAL ARTS (D.M.A.)

In the Performance Studies Division

BM, National Taiwan Normal University, 2001

Committee Chairs: Dr. David Carson Berry

with Prof. Lee Fiser at the University of Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music

the history of the nineteenth-century cello techniques and repertoire.

writing broadened my research, in which my benefit extended to combine performance

and colleagues during my studies, especially Stephen Brown.

cognate (music theory) during my last year of my doctoral study.

complete as a cellist, and as a human being.

Chapter One: Etude ……………………………………………………………………………….1

Chapter Two: The Biographies of Franchomme and Piatti ……………………………………..16

Chapter Three: Performance Aspect …………………………………………………………….41

Techniques of the Left Hand ………………..…………………….………..……………51

Chapter Four: Analysis of Selected Works by Franchomme and Piatti …...……………………86

Chapter Five: Integration of analysis and performance ………………………………………..155

Conclusion …………………………………………………………………………………..... 174

Appendix (Music) ………..........................…………………………….………………………184

monothematic character; his Art of Fugue would be an example.

on the performance stage.

pieces consists of twelve variations and a finale.

II. The Development of Cello Techniques.

greater freedom and sonority.

and the innovation of harmonic and artificial harmonics.

methods published until the late eighteenth century.

of variation, scherzo, and prelude.

octave higher or lower, or in a different key.

become widely used in performance.

Etude Book scale degree of the Usage Frequency

Popper’s High School of Cello Playing 1.97

Schroeder’s 170 Studies 2.97

Duport’s Essay 4.12

Piatti’s 12 Caprices, Op. 25 6.67

Dotzauer’s 113 Studies 7.12

Franchomme’s Etudes 8.85

Franchomme’s 12 Caprices, Op. 7 8.85

Grützmacher’s 24 Etudes, Op. 38 8.61

Merk’s 20 Exercises, Op. 11 9.79

and the concert etude.

straight bow, whereas Lesson 15 focuses on string crossing.

unknown) is a comprehensive collection of preparatory exercises in double stops on the violin.

 Figure 1.3: Bernhard Cossmann’s Concert Studies, Op. 10, No. 1.

Hyppolite Rabaud, Jules Delsart, Louis Vidal, and Cros Saint-Ange.4

3 Walden, “Franchomme, Auguste.”

4 Ginsburg, History of the Violoncello, 84.

concert repertoire at that time.

II. Association with Contemporary Musicians.

Franchomme founded several musical organizations, including the “Matinées Annuelles

letter to his family in Warsaw:

This resulted in a compositional style similar to that of Chopin.

the sixteenth notes symbolize Norma’s fury and anxiety.

Italian coloratura leaps.

I. Life at the Conservatory in the 1830s.

back to Bergamo and played in the civic orchestra.

stayed as an orchestral cellist.

later became closely associated with that of Piatti.23