Chapter 1

Methodological Foundations: The Scientific Image of Formenlehre125

In this chapter, I would like to question the scientific basis for Formenlehre and to propose
some (preliminary) improvements in the conceptualization of formal analysis. Surprisingly,
fundamental issues of this nature have only rarely been addressed, both in traditional
Formenlehre and in the current analytical movement that has come to be known as the New
Formenlehre. However, before I can outline any possible structure for a scientifically
oriented future Formenlehre, I must first characterize and critically assess the present state of
the discipline. In particular, I shall focus my attention on what I consider to be a basic
problem of modern Formenlehre: namely, the lack of historical empiricism.

(1) Formenlehre, canon formation, and implicit value judgments

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe reported in his Italian Journey that, upon his visit of the
Gherardini Gallery, he found some very fine things by Orbitto, and for the first time became
acquainted with this meritorious artist.126 This discovery prompted Goethe to reflect on the
relationship between the hierarchy among artists and historical reality:
At a distance we only hear of the first artists, and then we are often contented with names only;
but when we draw nearer to this starry sky, and the luminaries of the second and third
magnitude also begin to twinkle, each one coming forward and occupying his proper place in
the whole constellation, then the world becomes wide, and art becomes rich.127

It appears that Goethes insight into the benefits of studying lesser-known artists has had little
impact on the practice of musicological research on form: Both traditional and modern
Formenlehre are characterized by a highly selective impulse regarding the choice of
analytical repertoire (thus indeed looking at the starry sky only from a distance).128

125

The title of this chapter borrows from the article The Scientific Image of Music Theory (1989) by Dempster
and Brown.
126
Goethe, Letters from Italy (2013), 272.
127
Ibid.
128
To be sure, a great number of studies have been devoted to composers other than Haydn, Mozart, and
Beethoven, especially during the 1970s and 1980s many of them conducted by the students of Jan LaRue at
New York University (e.g., Hill, The Concert Symphonies of Florian Leopold Gassmann [1975] and M. Grave,
First-movement Form as a Measure of Dittersdorfs Symphonic Development [1977]). However, there has been
no attempt to integrate the results of these studies into a more comprehensive theoretical framework.
Furthermore, the theoretical tools that informed the analyses presented in these studies were not as sophisticated
as the form-analytical tools available today.

25

William Caplins 1998 treatise Classical Form represents a particularly clear example of this
selective tendency in modern Formenlehre. As the subtitle of this book explicitly states,
Caplin proposes A Theory of Formal Functions for the Instrumental Music of Haydn,
Mozart, and Beethoven. Leaving aside the deliberate focus of Caplins theory on formal
functions (rather than types) and on instrumental music,129 it is remarkable that Caplin
confines his corpus exclusively to works by the three main composers (from a modern
perspective) of Viennese Classicism. To be sure, the works of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven,
which Caplin examines in great detail, constitute in themselves already a comprehensive
corpus that surpasses the range of works explored by many of his predecessors. Nevertheless
this selection of composers implies the exclusion of other contemporary Viennese masters,
who were, at times, equally important in terms of historical development. The author seems to
regard the reasons for this strict constraint as so self-evident that he does not feel a need to
justify it.
It is only relatively recently that a (still somewhat marginal) trend in Formenlehre has
explored a broader historical range of certain formal concepts by including the contributions
of a larger number of composers. In their 2006 treatise on sonata form in the late-eighteenth
century, Hepokoski and Darcy claim to depict, at least to some extent, the historical
dimension of musical form. The study not only considers the triumvirate of Viennese
Classicism (the master composers) but also an (admittedly limited) number of so-called
minor composers (the Kleinmeister), such as Sammartini (represented by 1 work),
Wagenseil (4 works), Schobert (2 works), Stamitz (3 works), Vanhal (3 works), and
Boccherini (1 work), in addition to J.C. Bach (17 works), C.P.E. Bach (14 works), and
Clementi (14 works). However, Hepokoski and Darcy only rarely devote close analytical
attention to the works of these composers; often, the pieces of the Kleinmeister are
considered only in passing, either in footnotes or as items in lists. In light of the authors aim
to study the works of the more influential composers of the period,130 it is surprising that
not a single work composed by Koeluch, Pleyel, Paul and Anton Wranitzky, or Gyrowetz is
mentioned, to name just a few Viennese contemporaries of Haydn and Mozart who were in
fact highly influential during their lifetimes. As a result, the repertoire that Hepokoski and
Darcy have selected is still very limited, despite their explicit historical ambitions.131

129

Recently, Nathan Martin applied Caplins theory to the vocal repertoire, in particular to some of Haydns
arias, see Martin, Formenlehre Goes to the Opera (2010).
130
Hepokoski & Darcy, Elements (2006), 605.
131
In his review of their book, Paul Wingfield even goes so far as to maintain that Sonata Theory has been
constructed mainly on the basis of a relatively restricted Mozartian corpus, an impression that is reinforced when

26

Of course, every analytical study must make choices; that is to say, I do not consider
selectivity a problem in itself. However, it can potentially create difficulties when one begins
to generalize beyond the repertoire selected as a point of departure. The resulting problem is
threefold.
First, there is the problem of the paucity of examples. The compositional output by Haydn,
Mozart, and Beethoven, upon which far too many studies in the field of formal analysis rely,
represents only the tip of the iceberg of the entire musical output from Vienna between
1770 and 1810, comprising perhaps less than 5% of that repertoire.
However, even more critical is the second problem, which concerns the representativeness of
the chosen repertoire. This issue arises when the corpus selection is not made on a random
basis, but is instead biased by prior value judgments that have determined which composers
and works belong to the canon of the true masters. Are the formal features found in the
works of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven representative of Viennese compositional practices
as a whole, such that these features occur with about the same frequency in the music of other
composers working in Vienna at around the same time? If this is not the case, then music
analysts run the risk of committing the fallacy of statistical sampling, which, according to
David H. Fischer, results from generalizations which rest upon an insufficient body of data
upon a sample which misrepresents the composition of the object in question.132 Closely
related to this sampling fallacy is what Fischer calls [t]he fallacy of the lonely fact, which he
defines as a statistical generalization from a single case, i.e., the logical extension of a
small sample, which deserves to receive special condemnation.133 It should be evident that in
order to avoid these fallacies we must explore, as exhaustively as possible, the copious works
of the numerous Kleinmeister. This would enable us to draw (at the very least) tentative
conclusions as to whether the composers who are most commonly the focus of analysis are
truly representative of the Viennese repertoire as a whole.
A third problem, closely related to the second, concerns the heterogeneity of the traditional
choice of repertoire. Guided by implicitly aesthetic rather than genuinely historical
considerations, the corpora selected by Caplin, Hepokoski and Darcy, and other researchers
are by no means homogenous. For instance, Beethoven obviously represents a different
one scrutinises pieces cited in the text but not dealt with in any detail (Wingfield, Beyond Norms and
Deformations [2008], 142). This assessment is also reflected in the title (Mostly Mozart) of Drabkins 2007
review of the Elements of Sonata Theory.
132
Fischer, Historians Fallacies (1970), 104. Fischer continues, [] when it comes to unsound sampling,
historians qualify as experts, by reason of their long experience in the ways of error (ibid.).
133
Ibid., 109 (emphasis in original). Fischer stresses that this problem is characteristic of current historical
scholarship: As long as the majority of historians continue to conduct their research impressionistically and to
cast their findings in a simple narrative, the fallacy of the lonely fact is likely to flourish (ibid.).

27

generation than Haydn and Mozart; his style and formal thinking differ markedly in some
respects from those of his older colleagues. However, even if we exclude Beethoven from our
sample (thus abandoning rather than resolving the notorious Beethoven problem), we would
still have to address the fact that even Haydn and Mozart belong to different generations,
which partly explains their asynchronous stylistic development.
In particular, the problem of representativeness has significant repercussions for the
assessments of normativity that are so common in the field of formal analysis. The practice of
considering only a few outstanding composers between 1770 (or 1780) and 1810 has resulted
in a profound misrepresentation of what might be referred to as historical reality: It has
been widely assumed that the master composers deviated from an implicit (and
internalized) normative system in the manner of geniuses, who, according to Kant, have the
talent (or natural endowment) that gives the rule to art.134 It has been further assumed that
the normative backdrop against which the master composers made their innovative choices
was based on the works of the so-called minor composers.135 However, scholars have not
acknowledged the fact that the normative system that defines a master composers choices as
deviations has not definitively been identified. In fact, this system has only been posited,
not derived through empirical research.
To claim, for example, that Haydns formal choices departed from the norms (or conventions)
of his time in a highly original and often witty manner presumes our knowledge of such a
normative system. However, these norms have, if anything, been inferred from Haydns own
works; in the final analysis, this amounts to circular reasoning. The works of Haydns
contemporaries that supposedly constitute and exemplify this normative system are barely
known; they have certainly not received any close analytical attention. For instance, Haydns
London symphonies are often praised in the literature because of their congenial use of formal
strategies (among other reasons). In contrast, the London symphonies of Haydns former
pupil Pleyel (which were featured in a rival series of concerts) are considered to be less
original, although a comparative analytical study of the two groups of works has yet to be
conducted.136
134

Genie ist das Talent (Naturgabe), welches der Kunst die Regel gibt (Kant, Kritik der Urteilskraft [2003],
193; my translation). On the notion of genius in the eighteenth century, see also Ulrich Leisinger, Joseph
Haydn (1994), 1720.
135
Christopher Hogwood, for instance, views Leopold Koeluchs piano sonatas as the norm of Classical
Viennese style against which we can measure the exceptions (Hogwood, Introduction [2010], ix).
136
Without proposing any detailed analytical account of Pleyels or Clementis works, Webster states that, []
notwithstanding the similarities of style, [Haydns earliest instrumental music] far surpasses the music of other
Austrian composers of the 1750s such as Albrechtsberger and Wagenseil in at least the same proportion as his
late music surpasses that of Clementi and Pleyel (Webster, Haydns Farewell Symphony [1991], 358).

28

Judgments of normativity may also be prone to bias because the works of the master
composers are more salient; that is, they are much more readily available in the minds of
music analysts. This can have a significant impact on the resulting research; according to
evidence from cognitive psychology, the ease with which we retrieve certain information
from our memories can make it seem that this information occurs with greater frequency than
it actually does a psychological phenomenon that is referred to as availability bias.137 It
might well be the case that a particular formal strategy is actually rather infrequently
employed; if, however, it occurs in a work by Beethoven that occupies a prominent place in
music history (and, because of its prominence, is often the focus of analytical attention),
analysts may tend to view this strategy as being more normative than would be objectively
justifiable.
In summary, if modern Formenlehre is to be seriously considered an empirical discipline (i.e.,
one that seeks to derive theories from empirical data and, in so doing, to use genuinely
empirical methods), this would in principle require the examination of all available material,
using the most sophisticated methods from the empirical sciences.

(2) Prescriptive vs. descriptive approaches to musical form

The lack of historical empiricism seems to be deeply rooted in the history of Formenlehre
itself. To be sure, Formenlehre as a discipline has largely emancipated itself from its
pedagogical roots (as far as the teaching of composition rather than analysis is concerned138)
and has since become an established branch of music analysis; however, the majority of the
current approaches regarding form continue to suffer from the same lack of historical
empiricism that previously characterized the treatment of form in the context of
Kompositionslehre (the teaching of composition). In keeping with the nineteenth-century
tradition of Formenlehre,139 formal models (such as sonata form) are commonly derived from
a paradigmatic repertoire, a sample that represents only a small fraction of the broader
historical picture. No doubt such a selective (and often evaluative) approach was completely
appropriate for a pedagogically oriented Formenlehre that formed part of a comprehensive
Kompositionslehre seeking to provide paradigmatic models suitable for imitation by music
students; however, this is clearly problematic for the modern Formenlehre that strives to
become a historical science of analysis. In analysis, serious complications arise when models

137

See Kahneman, Thinking, Fast and Slow (2011), 129136.

The pedagogic component continues to play an important role in the analysis of musical form.
139
For example, Marxs description of sonata form was based on Beethovens piano sonatas.
138

29

derived from limited repertoires are viewed as representative of the whole, or when value
judgments are based on deviation from and conformance to such models (a problem that shall
be discussed in greater detail in Section (4)). The following brief (and by no means
exhaustive) overview of the history of Formenlehre will attempt to demonstrate the intricate
intertwining of prescriptive and descriptive (empirical) tendencies.
As a genuine subdiscipline of music theory, Formenlehre (that is, the doctrine of forms140)
is a relatively recent phenomenon, not emerging until the mid-nineteenth century. Ernst
Friedrich Richters Grundzge der musikalischen Formen und ihre Analyse, published in
1852, was possibly the first Formenlehre of its kind in the history of music theory.141 Richter,
well aware of the boldness of his unprecedented attempt to write an autonomous Formenlehre
independent of a comprehensive Kompositionslehre, felt the need to justify why form should
be considered separately. In the preface to his book, he writes:
If here, contrary to any more recently expressed intention, Formenlehre seems to appear
separately from other branches of music analysis, then in the authors opinion this is due to none
of these significant branches of composition, such as harmony, counterpoint, etc., really being
capable of being captured fully in connection with all of the others [...]. The difficulties posed
by the subject matter at hand influence all of the other elements of a composition, and are of
such an idiosyncratic manner that they can only be conquered successfully if one has complete
mastery of all techniques [...].142

Although Richter mentions in the preface that he wrote the treatise for his composition
students,143 he makes explicit reference to analysis in its title, thereby anticipating the next
step in the evolution of Formenlehre, which would take place at the end of the nineteenth
century. It was around that time that Formenlehre began to emancipate itself from its
pedagogical obligations, gradually developing an identity as a subdiscipline of music analysis.
This paradigm shift in the study of musical form is perhaps nowhere more clearly reflected
140

Burnham, Form (2002), 880.

For a detailed account of the history of Formenlehre in the nineteenth century, see also Moyer, Concepts of
Musical Form (1969).
142
Richter, Grundzge (1852), iiif. (my emphasis and translation): Wenn die Formenlehre hier, entgegen
mancher neuerdings ausgesprochenen Absicht, getrennt von den brigen Zweigen der musikalischen Studien
erscheint, so mag in der Ueberzeugung des Verfassers, dass keiner dieser bedeutenden Zweige der Composition,
wie Harmonie, Contrapunkt u.s.w. in Verbindung mit allen brigen wirklich so vollstndig erfasst werden kann,
[] der Grund gefunden werden. Die Schwierigkeiten des vorliegenden Gegenstandes sind so eigenthmlicher
Natur, und greifen in alle brigen Bestandtheile einer Composition ein, dass sie nur bei vlliger Beherrschung
aller Kunstmittel mit Erfolg berwunden werden knnen []. Formenlehren written in the decades after
Richters Grundzge include Benedikt Widmanns Formenlehre der Instrumentalmusik (1862) and Franz
Ludwig Schuberts Katechismus der Formenlehre (1863).
143
Richter, Grundzge (1852), iii.
141

30

than in the foreword to Percy Goetschiuss Lessons in Music Form of 1904, which features
the telling subtitle, A Manual of Analysis:
This explanation [of each design or form] be it well understood is conducted solely with a
view to the Analysis [emphasis in original] of musical works, and is not calculated to prepare
the student for the application of form in practical composition. [...] The present aim is to enable
the student to recognize and trace the mental process of the composer in executing his task
[...].144

This implies that it was not (as Ian Bent claimed) with Prout and Leichtentritt, but earlier
that Formenlehre became a branch of the discipline of music analysis rather than a
prescriptive training of composers, and hence entered the field of musicology [].145 This
change in the status of Formenlehre might be the result of twentieth-century theorists
concentration on the individuality of their analytical objects and consequently on the unique
historical circumstances under which they were created. Carl Dahlhaus, writing in 1975,
spelled out the radical implications of a Formenlehre that abandoned a focus on the general in
favor of a thorough examination of the particular: The consequence of a theory that regards
musical form as individuality and musical individuality as form is, however, a dissolution of
Formenlehre into analysis.146 This suggests that it was a keen and profoundly historical
interest in the individuality of music that resulted in Formenlehre ultimately casting off its
pedagogical part (the Lehre) and thus evolving into an analysis of the variety of forms found
in individual pieces under specific historical conditions.
To be sure, music theorists had devoted attention to issues related to form long before
Formenlehre was established as an autonomous genre and an analytical subdiscipline.
However, throughout the eighteenth and even most of the nineteenth century, form was only
considered insomuch as it was a part of a more general Kompositionslehre alongside (but not
unrelated to) other theoretical disciples, such as counterpoint, harmony, thoroughbass,
rhythm, and meter. By definition, the main purpose of Kompositionslehre was to teach music
students the rules of composition by providing instructions (or offering advice) as to which

144

Goetschius, Lessons in Music Form (1904), iii (my emphasis). Goetschius, The Larger Forms of Musical
Composition (1915), vf.: It [the present volume] claims to be no more than a guide for the student through the
successive stages in the evolution of the larger and largest forms of music structure (emphasis in original).
145
Bent, Analysis (1987), 32.
146
Dahlhaus, Der rhetorische Formbegriff (1978), 177 (my translation). As late as 1987, Clemens Khn
asserted that the negative reputation of Formenlehre was due to its schematic approach, which can neglect both
the individuality of musical works and their historical dimension (Khn, Formenlehre [1998], 7).

31

devices to choose in order to produce music that would be both structurally coherent and
aesthetically satisfying.
However, contrary to Bents assertion, prescription and description were by no means
mutually exclusive categories, since the advice offered by eighteenth- and nineteenth-century
treatises was generally based on empirical observation. Composition treatises that focus on
formal procedures make explicit and at times extensive references to compositional practice
(albeit often in a selective manner) to justify their prescriptive statements. A clear indication
of this empirical attitude can be seen in the tendency of these treatises to distinguish between
formal devices according to how frequently they are encountered in actual compositional
practice.147
Heinrich Christoph Koch is an early example of this trend. In the third volume of his Versuch
(1793), he differentiates between two formal options for the structure of the first
Hauptperiode of a sonata-form movements second part (what later came to be known as
the development) based on their frequency of occurrence in compositional practice.148
Heinrich

Birnbachs

subsequent

article

ber

die

verschiedene

Form

grsserer

Instrumentaltonstcke aller Art und deren Bearbeitung, published in 1827-28 in the Berliner
Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung, was perhaps the most extensive empirical study of sonata
form that had (at that point in time) ever been conducted.149 In elaborating a highly detailed
account of what he understood as sonata form, Birnbach makes repeated reference to the most
common choices of the good and best composers (gute and beste Tonsetzer),
demonstrating these structures through the analysis of individual works.150 A similar
descriptive approach to form can be observed much later in Hugo Leichtentritts seminal
Musikalische Formenlehre, published in 1911:
This book is aimed at anyone wishing to educate themselves about the nature of music as an
artistic form. It does not presume to dictate to up-and-coming artists or creators, nor to set up
hard and fast rules: it merely seeks to show what the masters of the past have achieved, how

147
However, it should be noted that eighteenth-century theorists had limited knowledge (in comparison to
modern analysts) of the compositional practices of their own time. Furthermore, their knowledge did not
necessarily coincide with that of listeners of the time.
148
Koch, Versuch (1793/2007), 307ff. (translation can be found in Hepokoski & Darcy, Elements [2006], 208).
149
Birnbach, ber die verschiedene Form (1827/28).
150
By distinguishing several default-levels, Birnbachs study appears to be a precursor to Hepokoski and
Darcys Elements (2006).

32

they have elaborated on forms, how they have interpreted the concept of form, and how they
have dealt with form in a sensible and practicable manner.151

This statement from Leichtentritts treatise suggests that perceiving Formenlehre as

invariably proposing instructions and dictating the choices a composer should make is, in fact,
misguided. Even today, implied criticism of prescriptive Formenlehre is still evident in
theories of musical form. For example, William Caplins Classical Form describes his theory
of formal functions as empirical and descriptive, not deductive and prescriptive, as it
derives its principles from empirical observation.152 As this suggests, theorists still tend to
think in terms of a binary opposition between prescription and description.
To summarize, the (empirical) development of formal models on the basis of a selected
corpus is a widespread practice in studies of musical form. However, as demonstrated above,
the trend in modern Formenlehre to draw upon strictly limited repertoire persisted into the
twentieth century and continues to be a common practice even today. In addition to
complications arising from the selective or incomplete representation of a given historical
practice, a further shortcoming associated with the current approaches in Formenlehre
concerns the derivation of formal models from a selected repertoire without the use of
scientific methods.

(3) Formenlehre and the lack of empirical methodology

Despite the empirical ambitions of modern studies of musical form, the methods commonly
used in empirical sciences are often ignored in Formenlehre.153 One of the most striking
aspects in this regard is the reluctance of most Formenlehre theorists to base their assertions
concerning relationships between formal options on a scientifically rigorous statistical data
analysis. The position outlined by William Caplin in Classical Form can be considered
typical of this tendency: Although he does not reject statistics on grounds of principle, Caplin
openly admits that in his form-functional theory, [n]o attempt is made to ground the concepts
in some broader system of mathematics, logic, cognition, or the like, and no proof is offered
151

Leichtentritt, Musikalische Formenlehre (1911/1927), xv (my emphasis and translation): Dies Buch wendet
sich an alle, die ber das Wesen der Musik als Formenkunst sich unterrichten wollen. Es mat sich nicht an, den
kommenden Knstlern, den Schaffenden Vorschriften zu machen, auch will es keine verbindlichen Regeln
aufstellen: es will nur zeigen, was die Meister der Vergangenheit getan haben, wie sie die Formen ausgebaut
haben, den Begriff der Form verstanden haben, wie sie mit der Form vernnftig und zweckmig umgegangen
sind.
152
Caplin, Classical Form (1998), 5 (emphasis in original).
153
Crerar, Elements of a Statistical Approach (1985), 175: Any volume of musical analyses opened at
random reveals a striking juxtaposition of technical details and rather florid subjectivity which characterizes the
usual style and method of musicological investigation [].

33

for the many assertions made. For some scholars, what is presented here would indeed not
even count as a legitimate theory.154 In defending his form-functional approach, Caplin
emphasizes that he does not necessarily require theories in the domain of the humanities to
meet the standards of the sciences: I reject the notion that a humanistic theory must resemble
a scientific, axiomatic system, but I welcome any future attempt to formalize the observations
and principles proposed in what follows.155 In keeping with the humanist tradition that
Caplin refers to, analysts of musical form often use tentative qualitative terms (such as
often, frequently, rarely, occasionally, etc.) rather than mathematically precise
quantitative descriptions when stating the relative frequency with which certain formal
options occur in a selected corpus.156 In so doing, they tacitly rely upon what could be called
intuitive statistics, the results of which implicit statistical statements157 may or may
not coincide with findings obtained by a scientific statistical data analysis. As Gjerdingen
bluntly observes, in failing to reveal the detailed results of statistical investigations (if any
such research were conducted), music analysts bandy about words like typical,
characteristic, or standard with the open confidence of embezzlers who, knowing that they
alone keep the books, cannot be imagined being called to account.158
Analysts reasons for ignoring statistics in the field of Formenlehre seem to be largely based
on a misconception of what statistics can achieve. In the following section, I have singled out
what I consider to be the two most important objections to the use of statistics in
Formenlehre.
The first objection, widespread among scholars in the humanities, concerns the inability of
statistics to adequately represent the unique properties of a given composition and the
unrepeatable historical circumstances of its production. According to Charles Rosen, the
postulation of a meaningless statistical abstraction [...] does not help us to see how music
worked in its own time and still works today [].159 In a similar vein, Paul Wingfield has
highlighted the limitations of statistical evidence, arguing that drawing up hierarchies of
defaults on the basis of such basic statistical analysis is a questionable enterprise, because it
tells us nothing about the unique network of connections surrounding a particular work.160
154

Caplin, Classical Form (1998), 5 (my emphasis).

Ibid. (my emphasis).
156
Cf. Grave, Review of William E. Caplin (1998) and Berg, In de sporen van Schnberg (2000).
157
Fischer, Historians Fallacies (1970), 104.
158
Gjerdingen, Defining a Prototypical Utterance (1991), 127.
159
Rosen, Sonata Forms (1980/1988), 7 (my emphasis). Elsewhere in the book, Rosen quite properly expresses
reservations regarding the possibility of defining stylistic norms statistically: Statistically defined, general
practice is pure fiction (ibid., 6).
160
Wingfield, Beyond Norms and Deformations (2008), 171 (my emphasis).
155

34

An additional objection frequently encountered in musicological literature is that statistics (or

statistical data) as such cannot be helpful in the derivation of the formal models (or ideal
types) that represent the standard against which individual works can be interpreted.
According to Dahlhaus, underlying the limitations of what he calls mere statistics is the
difficulty of devising a concept of form on a statistical basis alone:
Mere statistics, seemingly neutral, would lose themselves in infinite possibilities and never
arrive at a concept of form, since the apparently innocuous assumption that the most frequent is
the most essential is already an aesthetic predetermination that would be projected on the
statistically ascertainable facts from the outside.161

As Dahlhaus observes, the application of statistics cannot absolve the analyst from the task of
differentiating between constitutive and accidental properties in the attempt to develop a
concept of form; such a concept must be defined a priori. Similarly, Leonard Meyer
emphasizes that in order to be able to interpret the meaning of statistical data, the analyst must
compare these data in relation [] to some norm or ideal type,162 which itself cannot be
derived by statistical means but can only be presupposed.
Both of these objections are valid to some degree. Rosen and Wingfield are correct in
asserting that the statistical analysis of formal features abstracted from a selected corpus
cannot portray the individuality of each composition in the corpus, nor is such an analysis
capable of describing how these compositions functioned in a concrete historical situation.
Likewise, Dahlhaus and Meyer correctly observe that judgments of normativity should not be
based exclusively on statistics: Statistics cannot help the analyst to make a clear distinction
between what Hepokoski and Darcy refer to as default levels (four such levels are identified
in their theory) and deformation, defined as a genuinely unusual situation, an overriding of
the norm.163 The fundamental difference between the first four default levels and the fifthlevel default the very difference that would justify calling the latter a deformation would
not necessarily appear in statistical data; for the most part, it is a matter of interpretation. In
161

Dahlhaus,Der rhetorische Formbegriff (1978), 156 (my emphasis): Bloe Statistik, die sich neutral dnkt,
wrde sich einerseits ins Unendliche verlieren und andererseits niemals zu einem Formbegriff gelangen, da
bereits die scheinbar unverfngliche Voraussetzung, das Hufigste sei das Wesentliche, eine sthetische
Vorentscheidung wre, die an den statistisch erfabaren Tatbestand von auen herangetragen werden mte
(my English translation). One can infer from Dahlhauss various remarks on statistics that he did not consider
them a means of testing scientific hypotheses (inferential statistics), but rather in the everyday sense, as simple
frequency counts of the instances that pertain to predefined analytical categories.
162
Meyer, Style and Music (1989), 60. As Meyer emphasizes, [o]ne danger of employing statistics is the
temptation merely to count []. The problem with mere counts is that they produce averages or means. What we
really need to know, however, is the relation of the average to some norm or ideal type. Only in this way can the
characteristic features of the specific style be recognized.
163
Hepokoski & Darcy, Elements (2006), 49.

35

other words, it would be a mistake to simply conflate statistical frequency of occurrence with
normativity.
These objections notwithstanding, statistics boast considerable advantages that are rarely
acknowledged by scholars in the humanities; rejecting statistics as an empirical method on the
basis of such objections undervalues what statistics can offer. Most significantly, statistics are
a tool of data analysis (descriptive statistics) that also enables the testing of scientific
hypotheses (inferential statistics). Although statistics do not obviate the need for a historical
approach, they are capable of providing a general background against which the unique
network of connections surrounding a particular work can be interpreted. Contrary to
Meyers assertions, this general background, which may be referred to as an ideal type or
model, is itself largely dependent upon a statistical analysis; this leads us to the question of
how real an ideal type should or can be, which will be discussed below. That is to say,
statistics are a tool, not an end in themselves, a tool that can prove useful in sharpening the
focus of a historically-oriented analysis. In particular, statistics can provide data that analysts
can employ to devise a system of formal norms sensitive to chronological, geographical, and
generic distinctions.164
In addition to precisely organizing empirical data, statistics allow us to test hypotheses about
the correlative (or even causal) relationships between formal options.165 Statements such as
composer X had a strong penchant for the formal option Y are only meaningful if we can
determine whether the frequency of the occurrence of the particular formal strategy within the
repertoire of composer X is significantly different (in a statistical sense) from the practice of
other composers. Here statistics can be a valuable method of testing the accuracy of
hypotheses that may otherwise be based too loosely on intuitive or seemingly logical
assumptions.166 Since hypotheses that are subject to statistical tests are generally probabilistic
in nature, one or two examples that contradict the hypothesis would not be sufficient to
repudiate the hypothesis as a whole (although scholars in the humanities tend to assess the
validity of their hypotheses on the basis of single cases).167
164

Cf. Wingfield, Beyond Norms and Deformations (2008), 171.

A further advantage of statistics is noted by Meyer: Particularly when computerization forces us to define
traits with precision, statistics can help us to refine our discriminations among classes and styles (Meyer, Style
and Music [1989], 58).
166
By way of example, consider the hypothesis that the main theme is likely to be omitted at the start of the
recapitulation when it is used extensively in the development section. A scientifically sound statistical analysis
would not be satisfied by merely showing a strict correlation between these two variables. It would also consider
and weigh cases that contradict the hypothesis, such as the omission of the main theme at the start of the
recapitulation when it is not used in the development, or the retention of the main theme despite its frequent
occurrence in the development, for example.
167
Cf. Meyer, Style and Music (1989), 59.
165

36

To summarize, there is no doubt that statistics, like every other analytical tool, have
limitations. However, these limitations should not blind scholars to the clear advantages
statistics can offer when used appropriately and with a certain degree of sensitivity, as Alison
Crerar observes:
Statistical investigations of musical data, far from being skull-less number-crunching activities,
not only provide the musicologist with hard evidence of assertions which could not previously
be substantiated (at least not by the standards of scientific rigor) but also permit known
characteristics to be measured and assessed more accurately. Computational musicology seeks
to clothe the existing skeletal framework of musical criticism and analysis with a wealth of
corroborative numerical detail hitherto impossible to distill.168

(4) Functions of formal models in analysis

As described above, individual compositions cannot be understood in isolation but must be
interpreted in the light of generalized models or intertextually in relation to other specific
works. Assuming that this is the case, it is surprising that the epistemological status of formal
models in the analysis of individual compositions, surely one of the most pressing issues in
Formenlehre, is rarely considered in studies of musical form.169 As a result, the function of
formal models in analysis remains largely unclear, even in more recent treatises that explicitly
address the issue. Do these models claim to reflect the thoughts of empirical composers or
represent the implicit knowledge of historical listeners (or, at the least, the logical structure
behind the composers thoughts and the listeners knowledge)? Or do these models simply act
as heuristic tools without claiming genuinely historical implications? How is conformance to
(or deviation from) these models to be interpreted? Is conformance to a model to be
interpreted as a sign of conventionality that could help to differentiate minor and major
composers? Are deviations from these models to be understood as purposeful artistic acts,
made to achieve specific aesthetic goals? In the history of Formenlehre, at least two distinct
approaches have been adopted to answer these questions.

168

Crerar, Elements of a Statistical Approach (1985), 175f.

Cf. Bonds, Haydns False Recapitulations (1988), 59: The very notion of comparing an individual work
with a prototypical norm is today generally regarded with distrust. The widespread misuse of the concept of the
normative in the recent past, as Leo Treitler has pointed out, is in turn responsible for the hostility that the
study of conventions ... has engendered in many corners.
169

37

(a) Formal models as ideal types

Rather than assuming a realist point of view based on the reality of (Platonic) ideas, most
contemporary theorists have adopted a nominalist approach, in which formal models are
commonly understood as ideal types that serve exclusively heuristic purposes. The primary
role of these models is to reveal the individuality of the musical object; the degree to which a
given work departs from a certain (more or less normative) model is viewed as a measure of
its uniqueness. It is for this specific reason that an ideal-typical approach is seen as
particularly suited to the concerns of historians, who have traditionally taken a keen interest in
discovering what is unique about the objects of their study. Adopting a nominalist position
would not itself be a problem, except that the music theorists who endorse this position often
contradict their own premises in their analytical practice.
Carl Dahlhaus has been one of the most prominent theorists to advocate this epistemic
position, asserting that schemata (i.e., models170) act merely as expedient means for a first
conceptual approach to a work: just like bridges which one destroys as soon as the passage
over to a description of the individuality of the work has been successful.171 Elsewhere,
Dahlhaus has described the analysts use of schemata as if they were experimental
instructions, the analytical goal being not the presentation of a work in relation to the idea
of a form, but in a Hegelian sense the cancellation of the general schema through the
description of the individual case.172 In keeping with the metaphorical notion of schemata as
bridges, he states, [t]he concepts underlying an analysis do not express the essence of a work
but are a detour, even if unavoidable and methodical, toward the contemplation and
description of the individual.173
Whenever Dahlhaus uses the term (formal) schema in his writing, he makes repeated
reference to the Weberian notion of an ideal type. According to Max Webers definition,
ideal types represent conceptual construct[s] which [are] not the historical reality,174 but act

170

I prefer to use the term model instead, in order to avoid confusion with Gjerdingens concept of schema,
which does not denote types of forms but rather various voice-leading patterns. Furthermore, I would like to
make a terminological distinction between the terms model and norm: I define models as abstract (selective)
and multilayered representations of replicated patterns derived from a vast body of compositions. When I use the
term norm, in contrast, I am referring to the degree of normativity assigned to each of these models. These two
terms are often conflated in the literature.
171
Dahlhaus, Some Models of Unity (1975), 5. Dahlhaus first proposed this metaphor in one of his comments
on De la Mottes analyses published in his 1968 book entitled Musikalische Analyse: Die Formschemata, die
ein Analytiker entwirft, gleichen eher Gersten, die um ein Bauwerk errichtet werden, als da sie dessen innere
Struktur bezeichnen. [...] Das Schema bildet kein Resultat, sondern dient der Analyse als Instrument (Dahlhaus,
Kritische Anmerkungen [1968], 45).
172
Dahlhaus, Analysis and Value Judgment (1970/1983), 46 (my emphasis).
173
Ibid.
174
Weber, The Methodology of the Social Sciences (1904/1949), 51.

38

primarily [as] analytical instruments for the intellectual mastery of empirical data;175 they
can help to analyze historically unique configurations or their individual components by
means of genetic concepts.176 Webers explanation of the concept reads as follows:
An ideal type is formed by the one-sided accentuation of one or more points of view and by the
synthesis of a great many diffuse, discrete, more or less present and occasionally absent
concrete individual phenomena, which are arranged according to those one-sidedly emphasized
viewpoints into a unified analytical construct. In its conceptual purity, this mental construct
cannot be found empirically anywhere in reality. It is a utopia. Historical research faces the task
of determining in each individual case, the extent to which this ideal construct approximates to
or diverges from reality.177

Weber thus makes it clear that ideal types are to be understood as hypothetical constructs that
are not primarily intended to faithfully represent historical reality; whether they can be found
in reality or not is by no means an essential criterion. Rather, the purpose of ideal types
consists in measuring the uniqueness of concrete instances of abstract models.178
Recent approaches in the realm of Formenlehre similarly use formal models in the sense of
Weberian ideal types, with reference to Dahlhaus as the primary source for explanation of the
concept. For example, in his Formenlehre, Clemens Khn emphasizes that formal models
should be viewed as analytical instruments that facilitate orientation in a composition and help
to clarify what is unique about it:
The allegation, then, that these models are structures that are alien to music misjudges their
actual value. They do not represent a detached supervisory body against which the work must
prove itself. They are an orientation guide that permits one to assess the unique character of that
specific work: the idiosyncrasy of the Beethoven Rondo in question, namely that a certain
refrain invariably recurs in the home key, does not become evident until considered in the
context of the norm.179

William Caplin, who studied under Dahlhaus during his stay in Berlin in the 1970s, also
regards form-functional categories as comparable to ideal types, explaining that these

175

Ibid., 106. Webers remarks on the concept of ideal type are scattered across a number of different articles.
Ibid., 93.
177
Ibid., 90 (emphasis in original).
178
For additional information on the ideal type in music theory, see Redmann, Entwurf (2002), 169f.
179
Khn, Formenlehre (1998), 7 (my translation).
176

39

categories represent abstractions based on generalized compositional tendencies in the

classical repertory.180 In accordance with Webers conception of an ideal type, Caplin states:
A category is not necessarily meant to reflect frequency of occurrence in a statistical sense; it is
often the case that relatively few instances in the repertory correspond identically to the
complete definition of a given category.181

Hepokoski and Darcy also conceive of the formal models they propose in their Elements as
being heuristic in nature. Because Hepokoski and Darcy, like Dahlhaus, refer to Webers
notion of an ideal type (although they prefer the expression regulative guides for
interpretation), they warn against interpreting these models as literally existing things;182
this implies that neither conformance to nor deviation from these models should be seen as
justifying value judgments of any kind. Like Dahlhaus and Caplin, the authors of the
Elements explicitly adopt a nominalist perspective, clarifying the advantages thereof as
follows:
Given the history of the term and its self-consciously ahistorical application to eighteenthcentury works, what one chooses to call a sonata type or a sonata form depends on the
interpretive purposes one has in mind for doing so. There is no reality question at stake here.
Once one takes a more sophisticated view of a genre (or a form) not as a concrete thing to be
found in the music proper but as a regulative idea guiding analytical interpretation, many of
the problems associated with this terminological concern become less pressing.183

In his article Analysis as mediated immediacy,184 Jan Christiaens levels criticism against
those who would consider the sonata form an ideal type without ascribing any historical
substance to it: I doubt whether Beethoven, when composing his first series of piano sonatas
[...] would have agreed to deny any reality-value to the presence of the sonata-form model
developed by his teacher Haydn, or to the impact Mozarts piano sonatas had made on him,
etc.185 However, Christiaenss criticism seems to be based on a fundamental
misunderstanding of what an ideal type sensu Weber really is; the Weberian notion, after all,
is the central premise of the arguments proposed by Hepokoski and Darcy and cannot be
ignored when assessing their validity. Referring to sonata form as an ideal type is not intended
180

Caplin, Classical Form (1998), 4.

Ibid.
182
Hepokoski & Darcy, Elements (2006), 8 (my emphasis).
183
Ibid., 343 (my emphasis). In their usage of the notion of regulative idea, the authors make reference to
Kants Critique of Pure Reason (Hepokoski & Darcy, Elements [2006], 605f., footnote 6).
184
Christiaens, Analysis as Mediated Immediacy (2008), 156.
185
Ibid., 157.
181

40

to imply that sonata form does not have any historical substance; on the contrary, it is
unquestionably rooted to a large extent in the examination of a past practice, as Christiaens
correctly observes. In his characterization of the ideal type, Weber explicitly allows for the
abstraction of ideal types from certain characteristic [...] phenomena of an epoch; he does
not rule out the possibility that the ideas represented by ideal types have also been present in
the minds of the persons living in that epoch as an ideal to be striven for in practical life
[...].186 The critical point here is, however, that we can never know for certain whether the
models we use to approach a certain repertoire are the same models that determined (or
influenced) a composers thinking in the actual historical situation. No doubt, these two kinds
of idea the ideal type and the real type are not completely separate, since the models
that are employed as analytic tools are (or should be) derived through empirical observation.
Logically, however, ideal types and historically influential ideas (echoing Kants famous
distinction between the intelligible and the empirical I) must be strictly differentiated. As
a result, formal models can be viewed as having a twofold mode of existence: On the one
hand, they are theoretical constructs in the hands of modern analysts; on the other hand, they
have acted as normative principles in the minds of composers and listeners in specific
historical circumstances and have influenced their behaviors. Formal models understood in
the second sense cannot easily be accessed by modern scholars, but only inferred from actual
compositional practice. Moreover, Weberian ideal types should not be confused with stylistic
prototypes (i.e., averages formed on the basis of a selected repertoire), an understanding of
ideal type that is evident in Bondss Wordless Rhetoric:
On the one hand, form is often used to denote those various structural elements that a large
number of works share in common. In terms of practical analysis, this approach to form looks
for lowest common denominators and views individual works in comparison with such
stereotypical patterns as sonata form, rondo, ABA, and the like. For the sake of convenience,
this view of form may be called conformational, as it is based on the comparison of a specific
work against an abstract, ideal type.187

Despite Webers caveat, value judgments in analytical practice are often derived from the
fact that a given composition does or does not conform to a particular formal model.188 It is
significant that these judgments are typically biased based on knowledge of the identity of the
186

Weber, The Methodology of the Social Sciences (1904/1949), 95.

Bonds, Wordless Rhetoric (1991), 13.
188
A laudable exception is Caplin, who states that formal categories are not meant to represent standards of
aesthetic judgment, such that passages deviating from the norm are devalued in any respect (Caplin, Classical
Form [1998], 4).
187

41

composer under investigation: Pieces by the master composers that deviate from a formal
model in one way or another are likely to be seen as works of genius or, to put it less
emphatically, as the expression of a specific aesthetic quality (such as wit, originality, or
aesthetic expression). In contrast, in the case of Kleinmeister compositions, deviations from
what is regarded as the normative model are devalued, as are pieces that conform to that
model. It is a no-win situation for the Kleinmeister: Whichever option is chosen, the typical
reaction of many analysts is either to regard the work in question as a premature manifestation
of the full-fledged form or to assume a failing on the part of the composer rather than specific
aesthetic intentions. This suggests that in many cases, analytical judgment is implicitly (or
unconsciously) guided by knowledge of the identity of the composer.
Using formal models in the sense of Weberian ideal types is unquestionably a legitimate
endeavor. However, although the authors cited above repeatedly stress the fact that the models
they refer to in formal analysis merely act as heuristic tools that do not claim to reflect a
historical truth of any kind, this theoretical stance is in sharp contrast to their analytical
practices. The logical distinction between models as analytical tools and models as historical
entities (wielding influential in certain historical situations) is belied in the actual practice of
analysis, in disregard of Webers caveat:
Nothing [...] is more dangerous than the confusion of theory and history stemming from
naturalistic prejudice. This confusion expresses itself firstly in the belief that the true content
and the essence of historical reality is portrayed in such theoretical constructs or secondly, in the
use of these constructs as a procrustean bed into which history is to be forced or thirdly, in the
hypostatization of such ideas as real forces and as a true reality which operates behind the
passage of events and which works itself out in history.189

It is significant that in their analytical practice (as opposed to their theoretical conception),
theorists such as Dahlhaus and Hepokoski and Darcy seem to abandon the notion of formal
models as merely heuristic tools that cannot claim to have any genuinely historical
implications. In other words, these analysts appear to forget their own theoretical principles as
soon as they begin to analyze music. Especially when a piece deviates from a chosen model,
analysts tend to ascribe historical substance to the model by making explicit assumptions
about the composers intentions. This implies that they are confusing the properties of the

189

Weber, The Methodology of the Social Sciences (1904/1949), 94 (emphasis in original).

42

heuristic instrument with the properties of a historically real model (that may have had an
impact on the compositional practices of the time period under investigation).190
This confusion between ideal-typical theory on the one hand and history on the other can best
be illustrated by the treatment of Joseph Haydn in Sonata Theory: When a composer like
Haydn does not provide a medial caesura midway through the exposition, the composers
behavior is interpreted as a witty or even subversive play on the seemingly wellestablished convention of the two-part exposition.191 By assigning reality-value to the
model of a two-part exposition, with which Haydns formal strategies are supposedly in a
historically real dialogue, Hepokoski and Darcy clearly call into question their own notion
of analytical models as heuristic tools.192 In addition, although Hepokoski and Darcy
subscribe to Dahlhauss heuristic understanding of formal models,193 the authors seem to
conceive of wit (resulting from deviation from a proposed model) as a property of the
musical object itself, rather than regarding wit as the result of the use of twenty-first-century
formal models. In so doing, they contradict their own description of ideal types as concepts
that need not be considered as literally existing things.194 Strictly speaking, it is
inadequate to interpret deviations from ideal types (here: formal models) as the result of a
historically real act on the part of an empirical composer. Nor is it appropriate to interpret
such deviations as a (perhaps witty) play upon normative expectations, since we cannot be
certain whether the normative system we have constructed indeed guided the decisions of
historical artists.

(b) Formal models as a means of reconstructing compositional problems and solutions

In addition to the ideal-type approach described above, there is a second way of defining the
status of formal models in the analysis of individual works, a way that claims to describe the
logical structure behind the composers choices. Theoretical approaches adopting this
epistemological stance generally conceive of the act of composition as a process of
continuous problem-solving. It is assumed that the problems that a composer has faced during
the creative act are essentially based on the conflicting demands of the principles that
presumably guided the composers behavior. This might suggest that both these principles and
190
See also Neuwirth, Joseph Haydns Witty Play (2011). This point was anticipated in Philip Gossetts Carl
Dahlhaus and the Ideal Type (1989), 52ff. Surprisingly, Gossetts critique is not acknowledged either in
Hepokoski and Darcys Elements or in Caplins Classical Form.
191
Hepokoski & Darcy, Elements (2006), 52 and 58.
192
See also Neuwirth, Joseph Haydns Witty Play (2011).
193
Hepokoski & Darcy, Elements (2006), 386f.
194
Ibid., 8.

43

the compositional problems resulting from their interactions are considered historically real.
However, when describing the compositional process, analysts do not intend to reconstruct
the actual empirical (or psychological) act, but rather the logical (or rational) structure that is
assumed to underlie the empirical process.195 According to Meyer, there are two primary
reasons for departing from the notion of an idealized (rather than empirical) composer and his
or her intentions.
First, assumptions as to what actually went on in the minds of a composer or protagonist196
can never reach the level of certainty but must remain a matter of speculation. In the absence
of definite knowledge of these psychological processes, we cannot rely on the empirical
history of choices; rather, we must seek to reconstruct the rational relationships among
alternatives possible, the stylistic/cultural constraints operative in the specific circumstances,
and the particular goals in view.197
Second, not only is it impossible to access the thought processes of historical agents, but even
if we were capable of doing so, as long as these thoughts or intentions are far removed from
the rational (or normal), they should be considered irrelevant to the essential task of a
history of style. As Meyer observes, it is not some kind of idiosyncratic, personal intention
that is crucial for such a history, but the sort that is implicit in the stylistic constraints that
define the goals of the game of art itself.198 In disregarding the composers personal
intentions, Meyer adopts an objectivist position, assuming that there were objectively imposed
stylistic constraints that prompted composers to find solutions that would be (again,
objectively) appropriate to the problems posed by the rules of the game of art. As Treitler
notes, [t]his pointedly cuts out of the picture the composer as anything but a ratiocinating
agent, involved with the logic of the problem, and it demands an appropriately objective
response from the student of his work.199

195

Cf. Meyer, Explaining Music (1973), 23: [] the critic attempts to understand not the history of the
decisions which resulted in a composition, but the logical alternatives presented to the composer given the
structure of a particular set of musical circumstances. He is, to paraphrase Aristotle, concerned with what might
be called the poetry of creative choice, not its history.
196
Meyer, Style and Music (1989), 75 (note 14).
197
Ibid.
198
Ibid., 138 (emphasis in original). For critical remarks on that idea, see below.
199
Treitler, The Present as History (1969), 19. Elsewhere, Treitler writes: This implies an objectivity on the
part of both the composer and the students of his work []. The analysis of a musical work, from this point of
view, entails the explication of this nexus of problems and solutions. It becomes a necessary companion piece to
the work itself (Treitler, The Present as History [1969], 5, emphasis in original).

44

Notwithstanding its evident scientific affinities (with problems being understood as causes
and solutions as effects200), the model of problem-solving has only rarely been applied in an
explicit and systematic manner in music-analytical practice. One of the few exceptions is the
approach developed by Ethan Haimo in his study of Haydns symphonies.201 Haimo explicitly
attempts to reconstruct (or explicate) Haydns formal logic by providing the rationale for his
decisions, demonstrating how and why particular choices were made and what their
implications are for the formal structure.202 In the process, Haimo draws attention to the
governing principles of Haydns formal thought203 principles that may have mutually
reinforcing or conflicting relationships with one another. It is these principles that create or
actually define the compositional problems that the artist seeks to resolve. Because (according
to Haimo) these are the principles [that] would have been invoked by Haydn as the
justification for specific decisions that he made during the process of composition,204 this
implies, contrary to what Meyer suggests, that these principles indeed had a historically real
impact on the composers behavior, albeit largely on an unconscious level: They formed part
of the composers implicit knowledge of normative patterns, which could, in principle, be
raised to the level of explicitness. The normative force of these principles becomes
particularly evident when composers choose to deviate from a normative pattern. In order to
uphold these principles, they are expected to compensate for this deviant behavior
somewhere later in the movement or piece; otherwise, they risk damaging the overall
coherence of the musical structure:
Significant deviations from normative patterns create a formal instability that has to be resolved.
This is accomplished not merely by recalling the anomalous event at a later point in the
composition, but by recalling and restating the problematic idea in a normative context, thereby
resolving the instability.205

In summary, Haimos theory is explicitly a compositional theory206 and, secondarily, a

theory of the listener, insofar as the composer, when creating a work of art, is assumed to
200

See Meyer, Style and Music (1989), 146: [] the science-derived concept of artistic creativity as problem
solving [] is not untainted by covert causalism. The antecedent problem tends to be thought of (perhaps
unconsciously) as a kind of generating cause, while the consequent solution is willy-nilly understood to be the
resulting effect.
201
See also Kelterborn, Zum Beispiel Mozart (1981), 46ff.
202
Haimo, Haydns Symphonic Forms (1995), 2f. (my emphasis).
203
Ibid., 3.
204
Ibid., 268 (my emphasis).
205
Ibid., 8: Violations and subsequent resolutions of inter- and intra-opus norms are a central aspect of Haydns
multimovement strategies (ibid.).
206
Ibid., 268.

45

have taken into account the stylistic knowledge and expectations of the historical listeners of
the time.207 In contrast to the understanding of formal models as heuristic tools that do not
necessarily have reality-value, a perspective that views formal models as principles that
govern a composers choices and generate problems that the composer must attempt to solve
in a given piece of music presumes that these models do, in fact, reflect historical reality: It
is assumed that composers made decisions against the background of such models within a
concrete historical context.
When attempting to reconstruct the problems faced by a composer during the creative act, we
inevitably confront a number of difficulties. First, there is the epistemological issue of how to
derive compositional problems from a given work of art. Such an endeavor is all the more
difficult because, as Meyer asserts, [t]he problems posed by works of art are elusive and
ambiguous. For what we know are the solutions in music, individual compositions. And
what we try to do is to infer what the problem might have been. In other words, instead of
problem solving, the history of music might better be likened to the parlor game in which the
participants, historians, are given answers (a work of art, or a group of works of art) and asked
to guess the questions that generate the answers.208 Contrary to what Meyer suggests,
however, we do not even know the solutions, since to speak of a solution already
presupposes the validity of our framing a given composition in terms of the problem-solving
model, as well as our understanding of how certain musical events that we call solutions
relate to problems.
Second, in seeking to reconstruct what might have been (or what might have been the
normal or expected thing to do) we run the risk of committing the anachronistic fallacy:
projecting our own standards of rationality onto a historical situation. This has serious
theoretical implications as well: By transferring our own analytical problems to the level of
(historically real) compositional problems, we preclude the possibility of disproving our prior
analytical assumptions.

*
How, then, can Formenlehre overcome the difficulties involved in both the ideal-typical and
the problem-solving approach? One possible way of dealing with these complications would
be as follows: Instead of denying the attribution of any reality-value to formal models after
207

Ibid., 8: [...] it will be assumed that a knowledge of those expectations was a motivating factor behind
Haydns specific compositional decisions. See also ibid., 269: Reconstructing a composers thought is a means
of bringing the listener into the process of composition.
208
Meyer, Style and Music (1989), 148 (emphasis in original).

46

all, these models have been derived inductively or naively assuming that formal models
unequivocally reflect a historical reality in a (more or less) one-to-one relationship, the
models we use in analysis could be understood as acting as historically informed working
hypotheses that must be subjected to continuous refinements and revisions when new
evidence is encountered. These models, derived inductively by empirical observation,209
would indeed claim to represent, at least implicitly, the thoughts of empirical (rather than
idealized) composers in concrete historical situations. Contrary to what Haimo suggests,
deviations from these models need not necessarily motivate us to search for compensatory
gestures later in the movement or piece; rather, these deviations could also be seen as
indications of the need to re-examine the validity of our analytical models. This proposal
leads me to the following section, in which I shall develop a detailed description of the
scientific image of Formenlehre.

(5) Implied causality and the concept of rational explanation

As we have seen above, the problem-solution model of formal analysis emphasizes the active
part that composers play in their search for appropriate problem-solving strategies. However,
[t]he role of the artist as problem-solver in the modern view or even as creator in any
craftsmanlike sense of the word is distinctly minimized210 in studies that presuppose the
autonomy of the musical organism (which is assumed to develop as though self-determined).
This is especially the case in Schenker- and Reti-inspired contributions that conceive of the
works under consideration as living organisms. As Janet Levy has observed, [t]he core
metaphor of organicism is that of a seed germinating and developing into a full-blown plant
[],211 a notion that dates back to Goethes morphology and his concept of the Urpflanze.212
Even though more recent studies do not explicitly invoke terms as emphatic as seed or
kernel, they undoubtedly follow in the long-standing tradition of organicism,213 in that they

209

It should be clear that there is no such a thing as pure observation, as observations are always guided by
prior assumptions or some type of theory, no matter how implicit, vague, or loosely defined.
210
Solie, The Living Work (1980), 155. The author continues: Belief in an autonomous vital force at the heart
of a musical work, whether explicit or tacit, has interesting consequences in the contemporary depiction of both
artist and critic. For one thing, such goal-oriented behavior on the part of works of art-teleology and entelechy
combining to give every sonata movement what can only be described as a mind of its own renders the
composers role somewhat ambiguous. The organism grows and takes shape by itself: the artist need only give it
birth. Coleridge repeatedly uses the phrase ab intra with reference to a very few poets of the highest genius,
notably Shakespeare. It suggests that they worked with natural forces coming from within, not with prescience
and rational planning (ibid.).
211
Levy, Covert and Casual Values (1987), 5.
212
Goethe, Versuch die Metamorphose der Pflanzen zu erklren (1790).
213
E.g., Schachter, The First Movement of Brahmss Second Symphony (1983) and Webster, Haydns
Farewell Symphony (1991).

47

depart from the premise of the opening as generative.214 In fact, there is scarcely any
modern analytical study that does not try to demonstrate the organic unity of the work under
consideration, focusing either on seemingly unrelated events [that] spring from a common
motive [] (seed or cell) or on more clearly apprehended surface relationships.215
Closely related to organicism and unity is the concept of musical logic, famously
described by Forkel in 1788 (and later by Koch, Hauptmann, Riemann, Schoenberg, and
Leichtentritt).216 Although there is some variation in how the term is used, it often implies
consequentiality,217 as well as the necessity (or even inevitability) with which musical
events follow one another. Musical logic, together with the late eighteenth- and nineteenthcentury concepts of organicism and unity, defines a semantic field that entails the notion
of intra-musical causation, as Robert Morgan has persuasively argued:
Pushed to an extreme [] musical organicism can acquire a discomforting literalist and
deterministic character, viewing even the most varied details of a composition as not only
contributing to cohesiveness but following a logic of necessity. The composition comes to be
conceived as a sort of natural object, as an actual and presumably perfect organism
amenable to scientific explanation. Each event is held to be part of an ineluctable process,
caused by the combined force of its predecessors and causing those that follow. In practice,
at least, artistic organicism was understood throughout the nineteenth century in an essentially
metaphorical sense; and though references to necessity do occur, they do so casually or
informally.218

According to Meyer, the reason that concepts like necessity and inevitability should be
used with caution is that they would imply a validation of determinism, which, in his view,
fundamentally contradicts the composers free will.219 The fact that a particular composition
conveys the sense of a unified whole should not induce us to believe that the object in
question could not have been constructed differently. Consequently, Meyer argues,
the notion of inevitability in music must not be taken literally, but in a Pickwickian sense. The
series of events in a piece of music is not actually inevitable. If it were, music would be as

214

Levy, Covert and Casual Values (1987), 5.

Haimo, Haydns Symphonic Forms (1995), 5 (emphasis in original). However, as Haimo has argued, the
idea of organic unity is only a subcategory within the general concept of unity (ibid.).
216
See Eggebrecht, Musikalisches Denken (1975), 228240.
217
Cone, Twelfth Night (1987), 131.
218
Morgan, The Concept of Unity (2003), 25 (my emphasis). See also Leichtentritt, Musikalische Formenlehre
(1911/1927), 233 and 241ff.
219
Meyer, Explaining Music (1973), 20. With this problem in mind, Cone poses the question whether analytic
method [can] come to terms with freedom (Cone, Twelfth Night [1987], 131).
215

48

uninteresting and dull as detergent commercials. Rather a piece of music must seem in
retrospect to have fitted together to have been right. A good composition makes us feel the
uncertainty of the improbable, even while convincing us of its propriety. It confronts us with the
capricious and cons us into believing it was necessary.220

This suggests that inevitability is a psychological illusion created retrospectively when

listening expectations are fulfilled, either immediately or at some later point in the process,
effectuating the recognition of a logic in the order in which musical events have followed one
another.221 (We shall return to this issue below in greater detail.)
Meyers view seems to be shared by the majority of music analysts. The concepts derived
from the biological metaphor of the living work are indeed generally intended in an
informal and non-literal sense.222 It may be true, as Morgan contends, that it would be
difficult to find a single prominent theorist today who, if pressed, would accept an organicist
position even approaching the literalist one []; even if this is the case, we have learned
from cognitive linguistics that metaphors strongly shape the way we think about and
conceptualize the world, especially when these metaphors are employed, and thus work,
unconsciously.223 For this reason, the failure of many analytical studies from the twentieth and
twenty-first centuries to explicate or conceptualize biological metaphors and their complex
ramifications could be taken as a tacit endorsement of a factual causal (albeit not necessarily
deterministic) understanding of the relationship between the musical objects in question.
Music theorists may well be aware of the imaginative (metaphorical) as-if character of
musical organisms;224 nevertheless, they rarely pay more than lip service to this as-if nature,
since in factual practice they continue to explain how music must go.225 The following
examples taken from recent studies in the realm of Formenlehre serve to illustrate the
widespread implicit invocation of intra-musical causality:

220

Meyer, Explaining Music (1973), 20.

Meyer, Style and Music (1989), 33.
222
See Morgan, The Concept of Unity (2003), 25: This continued in the twentieth century and on to the
present as well, with most analysts recognising organicisms metaphorical nature. While leaving it largely
unstated, they have realised that a truly scientific explanation of musics temporal unfolding is more wished-for
goal than achievable fact. By and large, organicists and their structuralist successors have thus operated with
non-scientific assumptions and pursued non-scientific aims. Rather then [sic] explain how music must go,
responding to natural laws, they regard it merely as if it responds to such laws. In the belief that certain music
produces an effect of developmental inevitability, even to the point of mimicking natural organisms, they try to
explain why. But they know that music is no actual organism, but can at most simulate one. Indeed, I suspect
that it would be difficult to find a single prominent theorist today who, if pressed, would accept an organicist
position even approaching the literalist one (emphasis in original).
223
See, for instance, Lakoff, A Contemporary Theory of Metaphor (1993).
224
See, for instance, Dahlhaus, Entwicklung und Abstraktion (1986), 91108.
225
Morgan, The Concept of Unity (2003), 25.
221

49

According to George Edwards, monothematic expositions naturally require major

alterations in the recapitulation if they are to avoid redundancy [...].226
In attempting to explain the severely abridged recapitulation in Haydns Keyboard
Trio Hob. XV:11/i, Peter Brown argues that the level of exclusion is a direct result of
the expositions S(P) structure and the developments false reprise.227
In an article exploring the impact of bifocal expositions on the shape of the
recapitulation, Poundie Burstein states that [i]ntensified harmonic motion and
modulations toward the subdominant within the recapitulation of course are common
in non-bifocal sonata-form movements, where they are at least partly prompted by the
different cadential structures of the exposition and recapitulation.228 Elsewhere in the
same article, Burstein writes: To be sure, it would go too far to claim that the bifocal
structure of the works mentioned in the paragraph above is the sole cause of their
unusual recapitulations. Nevertheless, I would argue that it is no coincidence that these
deviating recapitulations which are among the most often discussed recapitulations
by Mozart all form part of bifocal movements. In other words, it is likely that the
special problem raised by the bifocal structure of the movement at least partly inspired
the striking strategies found within their recapitulations.229
Examining the technique of formal mixture in the sonata-form movements of
middle- and late-period Beethoven, James MacKay observes that [] the use of
distant third-related keys in a major-mode sonata exposition has ramifications for
tonal decisions later in the form [], considering how Beethovens use of formal
mixture in his expositions affects musical decisions in his recapitulations.230
In his article on altered recapitulations in Haydns string quartets, Russakovsky
hypothesizes that delaying the retransitional dominant causes a redistribution of areas
of tension and relaxation and opens up new possibilities for the elaboration of the
large form.231
Matthew Brown offers what he calls a functional explanation, which he defines as
an approach that explain[s] how particular parts of a complex system help to

226
Edwards, Papa Docs Recap Caper (1998), 311 (my emphasis). This hypothesis will be scrutinized in
Chapter 4.
227
Brown, Joseph Haydns Keyboard Music (1986), 339 (my emphasis). On this particular example, see Chapter
4.
228
Burstein, Mozarts Recomposed Bifocal Transition Sections (2008), 28 (my emphasis).
229
Ibid., 31f. (my emphasis).
230
MacKay, Formal Mixture (2010), 77 (my emphasis).
231
Russakovsky, The Altered Recapitulation (2001a), 27 [abstract] (my emphasis).

50

reinforce the system as a whole.232 To illustrate this mode of explanation, Brown

gives the following example: [] when explaining the tonal motion of Beethovens
Waldstein Sonata, we might note that, in the first movement, the function of the
recapitulation is to recompose the tonal motion of the exposition, that the function of
the exposition is to modulate from the first key (C major) to the second key (E major),
and that the function of this modulation is to create a pattern of tonal tension, and so
on.233
Each of these statements expresses a causal relationship between two formal options that can
be translated into a simple formula: A causes [provokes, affects, prompts, requires, inspires]
B. Although the use of words such as require, inspire, prompt, affect, along with the
qualification at least partly, indicates that the authors cited above do not endorse a strictly
deterministic understanding of causation, the model of causality undeniably represents the
foundation of their respective studies, if only implicitly (or covertly).
Surprisingly, despite the frequent usage of implicitly causal language in music-analytical
texts, the problem of the theoretical status of causal statements has rarely been addressed in
the secondary literature. A notable exception in this regard can be found in Caplins Classical
Form. Referring to the impact of the development on the recapitulation in classical sonata
form, Caplin makes a case for replacing the notion of causal influence with the concept of
appropriateness. Having claimed that the deletion of the first part of the subordinate theme
[in Mozarts Piano Sonata K. 457/i] is explained by its use in the pre-core of the
development,234 Caplin subsequently qualifies his argument:
To speak of the development influencing the recapitulation is not to suggest a causal connection
between these sections. What happens in the former does not necessarily determine what will
happen in the latter; the literature abounds in counterexamples to disprove such a claim. Rather,
it is more a question of appropriateness [emphasis in original] of occurrence. When we attend
carefully to certain events in the development, we may come to believe that it is particularly
fitting that some other event does, or does not, occur in the recapitulation. That a given idea is
highly exploited in the development, for example, makes it appropriate that the idea be deleted
in the recapitulation, without raising expectations that it necessarily will not appear.235

232

Brown, Explaining Tonality (2005), 9. A philosophical account of the functional explanation can be found in
Hempel, The Logic of Functional Analysis (1959), 271307.
233
Ibid.
234
Caplin, Classical Form (1998), 171 (my emphasis).
235
Ibid., 171f. (my emphasis).

51

The Meyerian notion of appropriateness (or fittingness) recurs at several points in Caplins
study. In addressing the recapitulation transition in Mozarts Violin Sonata K. 403/i, Caplin
argues that [t]he use of explicit model-sequence technique in measures 4243 is especially
fitting in light of the rather brief development section [], in which sequential organization is
conspicuously absent (despite the exploration of various tonal regions of the home key).236 In
this particular case, the fittingness of introducing sequential activity in the recapitulation
results from the need to compensate for its lack in the development the section in which this
type of activity is generally expected. This line of reasoning is also applied to Mozarts Gmajor Keyboard Sonata K. 283/i: Here, Caplin considers [t]he appearance of a sequential
passage [] particularly appropriate [], since it compensates for the lack of a core in the
preceding development section.237
As his qualification regarding the notion of causal influence suggests, Caplin (unlike certain
other authors238) rejects the causal approach not on principle, but rather for empirical reasons:
namely, counterexamples that may be found in actual compositional practice. However, the
fact that Caplin considers empirical counterevidence capable of casting doubt on the principal
legitimacy of the causal approach indicates that Caplin conflates causality with
determinism.239 For Caplin, appropriateness, unlike causality, does not imply inevitability
or necessity; a compositional option that is considered appropriate is one that is likely to be
chosen (i.e., Caplins concept is probabilistic rather than deterministic). It follows that, in
Caplins view, the invocation of causality is incompatible with a probabilistic conception of
music-analytical claims. As we shall see below, this is by no means a foregone conclusion.
Caplin appears to follow Meyers view on determinism in music analysis. According to
Meyer, [d]eterminism is a mistaken notion applied to works of art not only because
implications are plural, but also because, within the style he employs, the composer may at
any particular point in a piece be absolutely arbitrary.240

236

Ibid., 171 (my emphasis).

Ibid., 163 (my emphasis). This reasoning had already been presented by Kelterborn, Zum Beispiel Mozart
(1981), 17f. Another instructive example is Caplins discussion of the compensatory functions typically
attributed to the coda: Since the recapitulation is normally required to bring back material from the exposition
in essentially the same order, there is little opportunity, say, for recalling the main theme late in the movement,
for referring to ideas arising in the development, or for shaping a new dynamic curve to end the movement. As a
result, the coda can be seen to compensate for the inappropriateness of earlier sections to achieve these and other
compositional goals (Caplin, Classical Form [1998], 186).
238
Cf. Peles, Initial Conditions (2007), 72ff.
239
For another critical account of appropriateness, see Treitler, The Present as History (1969), 10: We must
feel of each stage that it was an appropriate consequence of what preceded it, but that does not entitle us to claim
that it was in the cards, that it was necessary, or that we could have predicted it. (Appropriate is a vague word.
The argument requires that it be left that way, to be concretized only in particular cases.)
240
Meyer, Explaining Music (1973), 20 (my emphasis).
237

52

Here, Meyer seems to confuse determinism with meaningfulness or purposefulness. What

from an external point of view may seem to be arbitrary, can nevertheless be caused in a
deterministic sense. The fact that we are not able to uncover the causes underlying a particular
action does not imply that they do not exist. Nor is it necessary that the acting person is aware
of the determining factors that encourage him or her to choose a particular option, whether
seemingly arbitrary or not. In this regard, it is interesting to see how Meyer subsequently
qualifies his statement by pointing out that [t]hough he [the composer] is free at any point in
a work to do as he likes, a responsible composer will subsequently take such an arbitrary act
into account. That is, the relationship between antecedent events and the arbitrary one will,
taken together, have consequences later in the composition.241 This suggests that the causal
model is not entirely suspended, since effects need not directly follow their causes; rather,
they can occur at some later point in the process (proximate vs. distant effects). Allowing for
this possibility seems to contradict Meyers rigorous rejection of causality or determinism. If
composers fail to realize the implications of a particular musical gesture, either immediately
or later in the form (or in one of the subsequent movements), they might risk losing their
status as responsible composers (at least from the perspective of the modern theorist). A
responsible composer is thus by no means free to do anything he or she desires. Clearly,
when we study composers from the classical period, we usually take it for granted that we are
dealing with composers of the responsible type (although we can never be certain whether our
notion of responsibility conforms to the notion shared by historical agents).
The discussion thus far suggests a strong opposition between analyses employing the causal
model and those subscribing to the notion of appropriateness. However, we must modify
this view of theoretical opposition, as it is misleading. In fact, all explanations that operate on
a functional level (M. Brown), or at the level of intra-musical causality, or that employ the
concept of appropriateness (Caplin) have something in common: In reality, they are all covert
statements of intentionality.242 The crucial problem is that for the most part, the studies
employing these modes of explanations do not address the difficulties associated with
scholarly investigations involving a composers intentionality.

241

Ibid. (my emphasis).

As Morgan has pointed out, no theorist seems to have believed that a scientific account of music,
comparable to that for a living organism, could be given for musics evolutionary mechanisms (and it is these,
not the more purely theoretical matter of musics acoustical foundation, that is analysiss primary concern). That
is, one recognised, even if only implicitly, that a musical organism is linked to human intentions and thus quite
unlike a natural one. However much some analysts may have longed for a comprehensive explanation of
musics mechanisms, none presumed to offer an account of its larger evolutionary course with any specificity
(Morgan, The Concept of Unity [2003], 25 [my emphasis]).
242

53

None of the authors cited above would seriously claim that causation takes place between the
musical objects themselves.243 After all, there is no conceivable way in which these objects
would be able to influence one another. Rather, it is the beliefs and motives of composers that
prompt the choice of certain options over others. To answer the question of why composers
did what they did, we need to explicate the reasons that guided their choices reasons that
take into account the structural features of the music in question. The explanans in music
analysis is thus the intentions of the composer, with the structural aspects transferred to the
mental level. To speak of one musical event influencing another is justifiable only insofar as
this is meant merely as a linguistic short-cut for a more elaborate statement (i.e., that
composers chose a particular option because they considered it the most appropriate means of
responsibly resolving the compositional situation they found themselves in).
To give an example: Edwardss hypothesis that monothematic expositions naturally require
major alterations in the recapitulation if they are to avoid redundancy is not meant to imply
that the repetitive structure of the exposition somehow mystically causes the recomposition of
the recapitulation in light of the danger of redundancy. Rather, this hypothesis is actually a
short-cut for the much more elaborate composers chose to recompose the recapitulation
because:
(1) they wished to avoid redundant repetitions;
(2) they considered thematic repetition, given a particular context, redundant; and
(3) they regarded the omission of repeated thematic units as the best means of achieving
the goal of avoiding redundancy.244

A similar explanation can be proposed regarding Caplins concept of appropriateness: The

sequential passage shortly after the beginning of the recapitulation appears there not because
it compensates for the lack of such sequences in the development, but strictly speaking
because the composer considered it appropriate to compensate for this lack. This mental
state (the recognition of the need for compensation) fulfills a causal role by making the
composer behave in a certain way rather than another. This suggests that the notion of
appropriateness is by no means in opposition to causality; on the contrary, it implies a causal
approach, insofar as it is intrinsically linked to human intentionality. This argument implies

243

In the listening process, the metaphorical conceptualization of musical events as causes and effects is often
purposefully evoked by the composer and can clearly offer an enrichment of the listening experience (see
Neuwirth, Strukturell vermittelte Magie [2008]).
244
The fact that redundancy is not an objective category has important implications for the explanatory approach
that will be developed in the present study.

54

that when it comes to issues of musical organicism, logic, causality, and appropriateness, we
inevitably enter the domain of human intentions.
The related concepts of intentionality and choice play a key role in Leonard Meyers theory of
style. In his 1989 book on style and ideology, Meyer gives a seminal definition of style as a
replication of patterning, whether in human behavior or in the artifacts produced by human
behavior, that results from a series of choices made within some set of constraints.245 The
first logical step in style analysis is essentially a descriptive one. As Meyer explains, [s]tyle
analysis begins with classification that is, with the recognition that in some repertory
particular relationships and traits may be replicated on one or more levels of structure.246
Since we cannot talk about style without having recognized recurrent features at various
hierarchical levels (whether in an inter- or intra-opus context), the essential task of the analyst
here is to extract replicated patterns from a chosen repertoire. However, style analysis does
not stop at filtering and describing those patterns; it has an even grander ambition as well: It
seeks to formulate and test hypotheses explaining why the traits found to be characteristic of
some repertory [...] fit together, complementing one another.247 Meyer argues that to
understand and explain [the composers] choices requires an account of the goals in terms of
which those choices were made.248 It is only the presumption of some mentally represented
goal or intention that would render analytical descriptive statements truly explanatory. This
suggests that in order to be able to explain prevailing patterns of combined traits, a styledependent concept of unity or coherence is required to allow the analyst to examine the
question of why certain traits fit together or complement one another.249 Although what

245

Meyer, Style and Music (1989), 3. Meyers definition, with its emphasis on the notion of choice between
various historically contingent options (constrained by culture and ideology), shows a striking resemblance to
Hepokoski and Darcys characterization of sonata form as a temporally organized action space within which a
number of options were available to the composer: At any given point in the construction of a sonata form, a
composer was faced with an array of common types of continuation-choices established by the limits of
expected architecture found in (and generalized from) numerous generic precedents (Hepokoski & Darcy,
Elements [2006], 9).
246
Meyer, Style and Music (1989), 39. On page 43 of the same work, Meyer states: Classification is essentially
a descriptive discipline. It tells us what traits go together and with what frequencies they occur, but not why they
do so.
247
Ibid., 43 (my emphasis). See also ibid., 79.
248
Ibid., 100f. (emphasis in original). The quotation continues as follows: In the absence of hypotheses about
the goals that guided compositional choice, together with some theory of human psychology relating strategic
choices to goals, the reconstructed past is at best a collection of style analyses strung on the slender thread of
chronology.
249
Meyer illustrates this idea by means of Wagners music (ibid., 4548). The notion of hypothesis plays an
increasingly important role in current Formenlehre. Hepokoski and Darcy emphasize the key position that
scientific hypotheses occupy in their theory: [t]oward that end, an intellectually responsible, culturally aware
reading should seek to reconstruct the historical norms and variable options of the relevant genre. Absent a
master-set of detailed instructions known to have been carried out by composers, this must be done inductively,
leading to constantly tested-and-retested conclusions (a procedure similar to that of formulating scientific

55

constitutes unity or coherence is no doubt historically contingent, varying from decade to

decade (or from century to century), it is the composers intention to create a coherent whole,
along with an account of the factors that contribute to this coherence, that can turn a
description into an explanation.
These considerations suggest that in order to explain a musical work as the product of the
composers choices (as made manifest in the score), we must rely on a mode of explanation
commonly referred to as rational explanation. Rational explanation can be understood as a
specific subtype of the well-known deductive-nomological model (D-N model, or
covering-law model), which in turn represents the prototype of a scientific explanation.250
The scheme shown below depicts this type of explanation in its original form, as devised by
Carl Gustav Hempel and Paul Oppenheim in 1948.251

Figure 1.1: The deductive-nomological model of explanation (from Hempel and Oppenheim, Studies
in the Logic of Explanation [1948], 138).

As this diagram illustrates, the covering-law model consists of two elements: the
explanandum and the explanans. The explanandum is a singular type of event for
instance, the melting of an ice cube. The explanans consists of two elements: a set of
antecedent conditions (e.g., X is an ice cube placed in an environment with an ambient
temperature of 70 degrees252) and a general law (e.g., all ice melts at ambient temperatures
above 32 degrees253) that states an if-then connection (or regularity) between the antecedent
and the explanandum.254 The interplay between these two elements (which can be viewed as
the premises) logically implies the occurrence of a particular type of event (the

hypotheses, consistently open to amendment and revision) that emerge from the study of the works of the more
influential composers of the period (see Hepokoski & Darcy, Elements [2006], 605 [my emphasis]).
250
Covering-law model is Drays term; see Dray, Laws and Explanation in History (1957), 1.
251
Hempel and Oppenheim, Studies in the Logic of Explanation (1948).
252
Peles, Initial Conditions (2007), 65.
253
Ibid.
254
Note that the concept of causation is not necessarily implied by the covering-law model in its original form.
Later revisions have sought to integrate causality into the H-O model.

56

conclusion).255 The overall procedure whereby one progresses from the explanans to the
explanandum is referred to as scientific explanation. The fact that the explanandum is
logically derived from the explanans renders the Hempel-Oppenheim model deductive. Note
that although the procedure is entirely deductive, the content of the general law is obtained by
means of induction, that is, it is based on empirical observation and is testable by empirical
methods.
This type of explanation, which has been criticized and revised over the years,256 still
occupies a central position in the natural sciences, but there is some skepticism as to whether
it is also applicable to the humanities. After all, the distinction between the natural sciences
and the humanities (in particular, the historical sciences) is based on a methodological
criterion, rather than on inherent differences in subject matter: Whereas the natural sciences
seek to explain a given type of event by specifying those events, mechanisms, and laws that
are said to have caused it (nomothetic approach), the humanities essentially attempt to
understand singular and historically contingent events, actions, and circumstances by
emphatically relating to the intentions and goals of historical agents (idiographic approach).257
However, I seek to argue that this traditional view of the dichotomy in academic discourse
(which dates back to various writings by Droysen, Windelband, and Dilthey) is a false one; I
will instead make a case for the logico-positivistic notion of Einheitswissenschaft (unified
science), which also draws on a unified method.258 In the following section, I will outline an
explanatory model for music analysis and discuss some critical objections that have been
raised in response to such attempts. In addressing these objections, I shall have the
opportunity to clarify my own position as well as to modify the covering-law model where
necessary.259
Let us consider the first objection: The historical events, actions, and circumstances that
historians (or, for that matter, music historians and analysts) deal with are individual and
unique (i.e., unrepeatable). For instance, there is only one Eroica Symphony by Beethoven in
the entire history of music, and the historical circumstances in which Beethoven composed
the Eroica are singular, i.e., both unprecedented and unrepeatable in music history. Many
255

According to Hempel, explanations have the logical form of an argument.

See, for instance, Salmon, Four Decades of Scientific Explanation (1989), 107ff.
257
See McAllister, Historical and Structural Approaches in the Natural and Human Sciences (2002), 1954.
258
Ibid. The concept of naturalistic hermeneutics acts as an intermediary between hermeneutic understanding
in the human sciences and causal explanation in the natural sciences; see Mantzavinos, Naturalistic
Hermeneutics (2005).
259
The topic at hand is very complex; innumerable articles and books have been devoted to it over recent
decades. I have singled out what I consider to be the most important problems, the discussion of which may
suffice for the purposes of the present study.
256

57

historians and philosophers of history view the acts of uncovering and understanding history
in its very uniqueness as the central task of the historian. Thus, applying the HempelOppenheim model of explanation to the historical field is said to represent a serious problem:
In principle, it would be impossible to do justice to the uniqueness of historical events by
means of the general and ahistorical laws that are considered analogous to the natural laws
proposed in the sciences.260 As a result, it is assumed that genuinely historical explanations
can only take the form of singular statements, suggesting that historical explanations should
be considered sui generis that is, utterly distinct from other scientific modes of explanation.
The obvious solution to this problem would be to add more information to our general law, so
that it will ultimately be capable of accounting for the explanandum in all its individuality and
uniqueness. However, we then inevitably confront the problem that the law will eventually
become a highly detailed description (rather than an explanation) of the event under
consideration. Leo Treitler, one of the few music historians to devote attention to the HempelOppenheim theory, explains this problem as follows: [] as it [our explanation] gains in
explanatory power it narrows its applicability, until the conditions it specifies are met only by
the case of Louis XIV [or, more generally put, by only one specific case]. Then it might
resemble general laws in form, but it would be, in fact, an explication of the particular
case.261 For this reason, philosophers such as Henrik von Wright conceived of laws in the
historical sciences as merely another term for a temporally ordered, causally related sequence
of specific events. As a result, explanations ultimately turn into descriptions or detailed
explications, with laws being relegated to the status of quasi-laws.262
Let us now consider some possible responses to these objections. First of all, the relatively
few music theorists who have promoted a scientific music theory (e.g., Dempster and Brown)
readily admit that science is indeed incapable of explaining the distinctively individual nature
of their objects. However, unlike traditional philosophers of science, they do not regard this
issue as specific to the humanities; as Dempster and Brown argue, [] no science is capable
of predicting phenomena with the precision that some critics would demand of music
theory.263 This implies that all we can do as analysts endorsing a scientific approach is to
explain classes of individual events (e.g., Beethovens Eroica in generic terms as a
260

In fact, the traditional criteria for lawfulness are contested in the sciences as well.
Treitler, On Historical Criticism (1967), 194f.
262
General laws are incapable of accounting for the uniqueness of historical events and actions; in addition,
history lacks universal laws. All we can say with certainty is that within a given historical period specific laws
prevailed.
263
Dempster and Brown, The Scientific Image of Music Theory (1989), 92 (my emphasis): Many claim that
music theorists should predict note for note what will appear in a given piece of music. But science cannot
predict such singular individuals in this way.
261

58

symphony), predicting that under a given set of conditions, some type of object or event will
behave in some given way.264 That [m]usic theory can make predictions of this very general
sort265 should not be seen as a limitation, but rather as the natural outcome of any scientific
endeavor. The logical inevitability of this limitation is evident when we realize that to require
historians to account for unique objects, abstracting from their general properties, would be an
impossible task in any case, since there is no such thing as absolute uniqueness: Uniqueness
and generality are relative concepts and are thus utterly dependent on one another. Every
historian, even those who seek to explain the uniqueness and complexity of their explananda,
inevitably makes reference (albeit often tacitly) to some generalized premises.266
A second counterargument is based on the fact that law-like (causal) explanations already
play a set role in current historiographical practice. In numerous studies on historical subject
matters, scholars have made use of so-called explanation sketches in which the presence of
a general law is tacitly presumed rather than explicitly stated.267 According to Hempel,
[s]uch a sketch consists of a more or less vague indication of the laws and initial conditions
considered as relevant, and it needs filling out in order to turn into a full-fledged
explanation.268 There are two possible reasons for this failure to explicitly state the law: It
might not yet be known, that is, there is a lack of factual information, and [t]his filling out
requires further empirical research, for which the sketch suggests the direction.269 Or perhaps
the law is probabilistic in nature as opposed to universal (see below). As Hempel observes,
the language used in historical studies strongly suggests the implicit assumption of laws
stating causal relationships:
Particularly such terms as hence, therefore, consequently, because, [] are often
indicative of the tacit presupposition of some general law: they are used to tie up the initial
conditions with the event to be explained; but that the latter was naturally to be expected as a
consequence of the stated conditions follows only if suitable general laws are presupposed.270

As we have seen above, Hempels diagnosis also applies to a large extent to current musicanalytical practice. Whether in the historical sciences or in music analysis, in order to arrive at
264

Ibid.
Ibid.
266
See Langham, Rational Explanation (1972), 477.
267
Hempel, The Function of General Laws in History (1942), 40.
268
Ibid., 42.
269
Ibid.
270
Ibid., 40. See also Fischer, Historians Fallacies (1970), 165: Some historians have eliminated the word
cause from their vocabulary, but they have continued to construct cryptocausal interpretations. They have
camouflaged causation behind words such as influences, impulses, elements, master symptoms,
prodromes, mainsprings, roots, bases, [] fertilizing factors, etc.
265

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a formally complete explanation in the sense of the Hempel-Oppenheim model, we must make
these laws explicit.
To be sure, choices in the realm of human activity can never be adequately addressed by a
monocausal approach, nor do the causes singled out by scientific research inevitably
determine or force the behavior of the historical agent (e.g., a composer). To account for both
the complexity and the resulting indeterminacy involved in the realm of human affairs, the
laws that music analysis deals with must be formulated in probabilistic (or statistical) terms.
Unlike deterministic (or universal) laws, which state that in certain circumstances a particular
type of event invariably occurs (without exception), a probabilistic law predicts that a
particular type of event will occur with a certain frequency within a given number of
instances.271 A probabilistic law implies that a single case (or a limited number of cases) that
contradicts the law in question is not necessarily sufficient to cast doubt on the empirical
validity of the law as a whole. It follows from this that a probabilistic approach to
compositional behavior is clearly better suited to the complexity involved in the domain of
human activity than a deterministic approach, since in the former multiple factors can play a
causal role and affect the outcome (sometimes in unforeseen ways).
The fact that human intentions are involved in history has led many philosophers of history to
conclude that the application of the model of scientific explanation as devised by Hempel and
Oppenheim is inadequate for the historical sciences: The deductive-nomological model is
considered incapable of accounting for the fact that, at a micro-level, it is the intentions of
historical agents (as opposed to physical causes) that make these agents behave in certain
ways rather than others. Intentions, the objection continues, are not to be equated with the
causes implied in a strict scientific explanation. It is for this particular reason that
explanations of human behavior are commonly considered sui generis.272
However, the validity of this argument relies to a large extent on the validity of the Cartesian
dualism between mind and body. Philosophers in the Cartesian tradition view mental events
as distinct from physical ones and must thus face the problem of how to explain the
(experiential) fact that human intentions generally relate to body movements in a systematic
manner (e.g., my wish to raise my left arm is usually followed by the corresponding body

271

Cf. Mendel, Evidence and Explanation (1961), 11.

Von Wright, in Explanation and Understanding, is an advocate of a dualist position: Broadly speaking, what
the subsumption-theoretic model is to causal explanation and explanation in the natural sciences, the practical
syllogism is to teleological explanation and explanation in history and the social sciences (Von Wright,
Explanation and Understanding [1971], 27).
272

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motion).273 If we instead adhere to a physicalist (or monist) position and assume that mental
events must necessarily have a physical basis in order for them to be realized, the
conceptualization of mental events as fulfilling a causal role with regard to human behavior
becomes much simpler: Mental events are simply identical with physical ones, because they
are instantiated at the brain level.274 It is only because of this physical basis that mental
events (thoughts, intentions, etc.) can produce bodily motions that eventually form part of
more complex and culturally charged human actions. When one assumes that mental events
are simply a subclass of physical events, it follows that causal explanations are not restricted
to the physical world; they can be applied to the realm of human action as well. This implies,
as Donald Davidson has convincingly demonstrated, that intentional or rational explanations
are by no means a mode of explanation sui generis, but can instead be construed as a subtype
of causal explanations, with reasons classified as a subcategory of causes.275 To refer to
reasons (or intentions) as causes and to invoke them in an explanatory scheme is to propose
what philosophers call a rational explanation, which can be understood as a specific subtype
of the modes of explanations implied in the D-N model.
Having examined some potential objections to the legitimacy of a rigidly scientific approach
in historical research, let us now consider in detail the model of rational explanation and
how it might be applicable to the field of music analysis, beginning with Hempels own
conception:

(a) A was in a situation of type C. [initial condition]

(b) A was disposed to act rationally (i.e., A was a rational agent at the time). [initial
condition]
(c) Any rational agent, when in a situation of type C, will invariably (or with high
probability) do X. [general law]
Hence:
(d) A did X. [explanandum]

273

This is one of the reasons that may explain why Cartesian dualism is largely considered outdated nowadays.
See, for instance, Eugen Fischer, Philosophie des Geistes (2003), 81ff.
275
Davidson, Actions, Reasons, and Causes (1963). As Mendel points out, one objection to the possibility of a
rational explanation is that to call motives causes would be to say paradoxically that the future can provide
antecedent conditions for the present. But a moments analysis suffices to see that it is not the future, but mens
ideas of how they may affect the future, entertained prior to their actions, that motivate them to those actions
(Mendel, Evidence and Explanation [1961], 12).
274

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Two aspects of Hempels rendering of rational explanation are noteworthy: First, Hempel
places great emphasis on what a given situation requires the agent to do. In a manner similar
to Poppers logic of the situation, Hempel one-sidedly focuses on the extent to which a
certain action is appropriate in light of the demands of the situation, thus leaving the purposes
of the historical agent unexamined.276 It is only by way of the concept of rationality that these
purposes come into play, since by rationality, Hempel means that one behaves in
accordance with ones motives, goals, values, and beliefs and is disposed to choose preferably
the means that are considered appropriate to achieve these goals.
Second, although Hempels model is logically complete and valid, it lacks a crucial
component, namely the subjective perspective of the historical agent. The type of situation
that objectively prevailed is entirely irrelevant, in causal terms; what truly matters causally is
how historical agents conceived of the situation in which they made their choices. Note that
this subjective evaluation need not necessarily be entirely idiosyncratic; it may have been
shaped by social practices and institutions, and may in that sense be to some degree
objective (or intersubjective). Incorporating the subjective component into the model of
rational explanation leads us to Paul Langhams revised model:

(a) A conceived his situation to be of type C.

(b) A was disposed to act with rationale [x], where [x] might include more than one
disposition.
(c) Any person within the socio-historical environment [y] allowing for any class or
idiosyncratic traits on the part of A with the disposition to act with rational [x] will,
when he finds himself in a situation which he believes to be of type C, do something
of kind x.
Hence:
(d) A did something of kind x.277

Now we are in a position to reformulate the redundancy-based explanation provided by

Edwards in terms of a rational explanation:

(a) The composer A believed that his situation would give rise to redundancy.
(b) The composer A was disposed to avoid a redundant situation in the recapitulation.
276
277

Cf., e.g., Popper, The Poverty of Historicism (1957), 136140.

Langham, Rational Explanation and Covering Laws (1972), 478.

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(c) Any composer within (say) the Viennese environment between (say) 1780 and 1800
allowing for any class or idiosyncratic traits on the part of A with the disposition to
avoid a redundant situation in the recapitulation will, when he finds himself in such a
situation, eliminate the restatement of P in S.
Hence:
(d) The composer A eliminated the P-based S from the recapitulation.278

It is thus evident that explanations in the realm of Formenlehre can in principle take the
logical form of a rational explanation, meeting the criteria of formal completeness and logical
validity. Now, the crucial question remains to be answered whether the constituent parts of
the whole explanation can also be confirmed on empirical grounds. Here we inevitably face
the thorny epistemological problem of how to derive the intentions (and thought processes) of
historical agents (in our case, composers). In attempting to find answers to this problem, I
shall focus on what might be called the level of structural intentions, which involves
intentions related to intra-musical aspects (of a given work or set of works), as opposed to
extra-musical (e.g., semantic, expressive, or commercial) factors.
As has been mentioned above in connection with the problem-solving model, there is the
Cartesian problem of inaccessibility concerning the intentions of historical agents. In their
seminal article on the intentional fallacy in interpreting literature, Wimsatt and Bearsdley
contend that the design or intention of the author is neither available nor desirable as a
standard for judging the success of literary work of art.279 The statement that an authors
intention is not available at all might be regarded as an extreme form of skepticism. The
Cartesian position that intentions are private mental states inaccessible to an external observer
can be challenged by adopting a neo-Wittgensteinian view on the issue,
according to which an intention is thought to be a purpose, manifest in the artwork, that
regulates the way the artwork is. Authorial intention, then, is discoverable by the inspection and
contemplation of the work itself. Indeed, the artwork is criterial to attributions of intention.
Searching for authorial intention is, consequently, not a matter of going outside the artwork,
looking for some independent, private, mental episode or cause that is logically remote from the
meaning or value of the work. The intention is evident in the work itself, and, insofar as the

278

Ibid.
Wimsatt and Bearsdley, The Intentional Fallacy (1946), 468. It should be noted here that the theorists
behind the intentional fallacy do not deny the causal role of the creators intention, but rather its relevance for
the interpretation of the artwork.
279

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intention is identified as the purposive structure of the work, the intention is the focus of our
interest in and attention to the artwork.280

Provided that Wittgensteins famous argument against a private language is valid, it follows
that intentions are intrinsically social and thus feature an observable component. However, in
attempting to access the composers intentions, we might run the risk of circular reasoning.
As Dempster and Brown have noted, [u]nder the worst circumstances, we must infer a
composers intentions from the very compositions that those intentions are supposed to
illuminate, a conspicuously circular inference.281 This problem becomes all the more
pressing when we proceed from an idealized (rather than personal or empirical) concept of
intentionality, a concept that is informed by cultural constraints or by what Meyer refers to as
ideology.282 In this case, the composers intentions may ultimately turn out to be an
explanatory fiction, a blank slate to be filled in and adjusted, as needed, to fill explanatory
gaps between what was actually composed and the surrounding cultural and artistic
conditions.283 The problem to which Dempster and Brown allude is that when dealing with
historical (or inter-cultural) objects, we tend to project our own rationality standards into the
historical situation. Rather than ascertaining the real intentions that the historical agents
presumably had, which may at times seem idiosyncratic by modern standards, we refer to
what would have been the normal or logical thing to do, had the historical agents wanted
to achieve the goals we expect them to have pursued.284 In the field of Formenlehre,
Hepokoski and Darcy have illustrated the resulting anachronistic fallacy with regard to
redundancy-based explanations of Haydns practice of recomposing many of his
recapitulations:
This invites an interpretation based on a telescoping theory, according to which one supposes
that the composers goal was to avoid the redundancy of double-stated P-modules in the
recapitulation, even though that had not been considered a problem in the exposition. [...] This
is cogent reasoning, but it is uncertain whether composers around 1800 would have shared the

280

Carroll, Beyond Aesthetics (2001), 160.

Dempster & Brown, Review of Style and Music (1992), 156.
282
Meyer, Style and Music (1989), 100: Compositional choices are difficult to explain because, from a
historical point of view at least, the most important goals of composers are established to a significant extent by
the often unconscious and unconceptualized beliefs and attitudes of the larger culture above all, by ideology.
283
Dempster & Brown, Review of Style and Music (1992), 157 (my emphasis).
284
Van Waesberghe, Einleitung zu einer Kausalittserklrung (1969), 250. As van Waesberghe convincingly
demonstrates, a logical explanation need not necessarily be a historically true explanation.
281

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later-nineteenth- and twentieth-century (high-modernist) aversion to repetition. For that reason

one might be suspicious of that explanation.285

These objections notwithstanding, if we agree with Meyers theory that explanations in the
domain of music analysis must rely on motivating intentions, it will be necessary to find
sound methods of inferring the composers intentions from the score methods that
circumvent (or at least mitigate) both the danger of circularity as well as the anachronistic
fallacy. An indicator approach might offer a viable solution to these two problems: Since
intentions themselves cannot be observed, we can only infer them from overt behavior that
manifests itself in the data available from the score. We must thereby rely on a number of
distinct indicators, including the quantity of indicators, their variety and mutual independency
(internal vs. external evidence), and the degree of their non-conformance.
The first important component is the number of indicators: If a comparatively large number of
indicators point in the same direction, our inference of the composers intention becomes
more plausible than an inference on the basis of a smaller set of indicators would be. In
general, the higher the number of indicators and the greater the extent of their convergence,
the more plausible the attribution of intentions to a particular historical agent. For example, if
20 compositions are found to omit the monothematic subordinate theme in the recapitulation,
then the assumption that the composer regarded the repetition of this unit as redundant will be
more plausible than it would have been if this practice had occurred in a much smaller set of
pieces. Similarly, if not one but instead several composers acted in a comparable fashion in
comparable circumstances, this conformance suggests that they must have had similar
(socially shared) intentions. Whether a connection between two or more formal options was
significant from the perspective of the composer or was simply due to chance can be
determined by using statistics.286
The degree of plausibility of a particular hypothesis is considerably enhanced if the indicators
are both different in nature (variety of indicators) and mutually independent. For instance, if
there is both internal and external evidence in favor of a certain hypothesis regarding a
composers intentions, the plausibility of this hypothesis will increase accordingly. Such
internal evidence might be data found in a particular composition or set of works; external
285

Hepokoski & Darcy, Elements (2006), 258 (my emphasis).

N. Temperley, Testing the Significance of Thematic Relationships (1961), 177180; 178: Was the
connection significant for the composer consciously or unconsciously? [] We do not have to rely on
conjecture, for we have, ready to hand, a discipline that is specifically designed to test the significance of
connections: the discipline of statistics. By means of statistics, we can find out precisely how likely it is that a
given similarity or other relationship is due to chance. See also LaRue, Significant and Coincidental
Resemblance (1961).

286

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evidence might include writings by the composer (sketches, letters, etc.) or by theorists (of the
same time period).287 Both types of sources can be used for the purpose of deriving the
composers intentions. If the indicators found in these sources show a high degree of
convergence, the plausibility of the inference will be correspondingly high. Conversely, the
degree of non-conformance of the indicators with incongruent (or alternative) hypotheses
likewise strengthens the validity of our inference. For instance, if the structural events to be
accounted for cannot be adequately explained by alternative hypotheses (such as those based
on the sonata principle, for example), this might suggest that a redundancy-based
explanation is more plausible. Concomitantly, the confirmation bias resulting from the
positive-test strategy utilized in many studies in the field of the humanities could be
eliminated. As a result, by drawing on a comparatively large number of more or less
independent and diverse criteria, it might be possible to lend a relatively high degree of
plausibility to our inferences concerning artistic intentions and, at the same time, circumvent
the problems of circularity and anachronism described above.
When seeking to investigate hypotheses regarding the intentions of historical agents (in our
case, composers), we inevitably confront a specific methodological problem related to
historical research in general, a problem that stems from the nature of the data we explore.
Music analysts (in our case, scholars of eighteenth-century music) by definition deal
exclusively with pre-existing historical data. This implies that there is no opportunity to
generate new data that would allow researchers to test their hypotheses through empirical
experimentation.288 However, contrary to the traditional view, this does not necessarily
preclude music analysts from testing hypotheses. Those who deny this possibility ignore an
important distinction within the category of pre-existing data, namely the difference between
retrospective data and prospective data. According to David Huron, who proposed this
distinction in his Ernest Bloch lectures, [r]etrospective data is evidence that is already inhand evidence that is known to the researcher. Prospective data, by contrast, is data that is
not yet available to the researcher. Prospective data includes evidence that will be collected in
the future, but prospective data also includes existing evidence that a researcher has not yet
seen such as data published in a forgotten article, or manuscripts in an overlooked

287

On the problems of using sketches in music analysis, see Meyer, Explaining Music (1973), 23f. and 78
(footnote 34).
288
A closely associated additional problem is that due to the uniqueness (and thus the unrepeatability) of
historical events, we cannot design an experiment to test whether a hypothesis is true or false (epistemological
problem, see below).

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archive.289 In this respect, prospective data is comparable to yet-to-be-collected data:

Whether researchers are concerned with pre-existing historical data or with yet-to-becollected new data, they devise their hypotheses on the basis of data they have thoroughly
analysed, but test them using a set of data whose properties they do not yet know. In both
cases, researchers can predict (on the basis of hypothetical assumptions) how these sets of
data might appear. (For example, we could explore the properties of a chosen corpus, such as
Haydns string quartets. On the basis of this analysis, we could then make predictions
regarding how Haydns symphonies might be structured, predictions that can be confirmed or
invalidated.) Thus, it is evident that the data that historians deal with should not be conflated
with retrospective evidence, which represents only one possible type of historical data. The
subdivision of pre-existing historical data into retrospective and prospective data allows us to
simulate an experimental situation on the basis of the latter subcategory.
This subdivision of historical data has yet another advantage: It helps us to circumvent the
interrelated problems of post-hoc theorizing and circularity. As Huron argues [o]ne of the
most pernicious problems plaguing historical disciplines is the tendency to use a single data
set both to generate the theory and to support the theory. Formally, if observation O is used to
formulate theory T, then O cannot be construed as a predicted outcome of T. That is,
observation O in no way supports T.290 Unlike pre-data theories, post-data theories run the
risk of amounting to circular reasoning.
The problem of post-hoc theorizing no doubt is a serious one; however, testing hypotheses on
the basis of pre-existing prospective data is a fruitful method that may at times yield
unexpected results, which might then require revisions in the underlying theory. On this point,
Huron claims: The fields of astronomy and evolutionary biology have demonstrated that
there are many more opportunities for testing historical theories than is recognized by
historians working in humanities disciplines.291

289

Huron, The New Empiricism (1999).

Ibid.
291
Ibid. An additional point to consider is the fact that historians commonly work in data-poor rather than datarich fields. This poses a number of serious problems. First, the historical scholar (unlike, for example, an
experimental psychologist) does not know whether he or she will be able to find new data on which a certain
theory can be tested. Second, and more importantly, basing a theory on a limited amount of data is clearly
problematic, since this limitation makes it difficult to perform reliable statistical tests.
290

67