Multidimensional Musical Objects in Mahler 7

MULTIDIMENSIONAL MUSICAL OBJECTS IN MAHLER’S SEVENTH SYMPHONY
Jason Patterson, B.A., M.M.
Dissertation Prepared for the Degree of
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
UNIVERSITY OF NORTH TEXAS
May 2019
APPROVED:
Timothy Jackson, Major Professor

David Heetderks, Committee Member
Peter Mondelli, Committee Member
Felix Olschofka, Interim Director of Graduate
Studies in the College of Music
John W. Richmond, Dean of the College of
Music
Victor Prybutok, Dean of the Toulouse
Graduate School
Patterson, Jason. Multidimensional Musical Objects in Mahler’s Seventh Symphony.
Doctor of Philosophy (Music), May 2019, 139 pp., 50 figures, bibliography, 60 titles.
Gustav Mahler’s Seventh Symphony seems to belie traditional notions of symphonic
unity in that it progresses from E minor in the first movement to C major in the Finale. The
repertoire of eighteenth and nineteenth century composers such as Haydn, Beethoven, and
Brahms indicates that tonal holism is a significant factor for the symphonic genre. In order to
reconcile Mahler’s adventurous key scheme, this dissertation explores a multidimensional
harmonic model that expands upon other concepts like Robert Bailey’s double-tonic complex
and transformation theory. A multidimensional musical object is a nexus of several
interconnected chords that occupy the same functional space (tonic, dominant, or subdominant)
and can be integrated into a Schenkerian reading. Mahler’s Seventh is governed by a three-
dimensional tonic object that encompasses the major and minor versions of C, E, and A-flat and
the augmented triad that is formed between them. The nature of this multidimensional harmony
allows unusual formal procedures to unfold, most notably in the first movement’s sonata form.
To navigate this particular sonata design, I have incorporated my own analytical terminology, the
identity narrative, to track the background harmonic events. The location of these events
(identity schism, identity crisis, and identity reclamation) is critical to the entire structure of the
Seventh.
Copyright 2019
By
Jason Patterson
ii
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
It is difficult to imagine this dissertation, or my grasp on music theory in general, without
the guidance of my mentor, Timothy Jackson. His unique perspective on large-scale forms and
Schenkerian analysis has been invaluable to me. He continuously challenged me to be a better
theorist and to sharpen my knowledge of the repertoire. I truly cannot thank him enough for his
years of instruction and inspiration.
I am also greatly indebted to my committee members, Dr. David Heetderks and Dr. Peter
Mondelli. Their feedback and questions helped me refine my model and analyses and strengthen
my terminology. Fresh eyes on a years-long project is vital for its efficacy, and every chapter
benefited from their new perspectives. The overall product is undoubtedly better and clearer
because of their input.
Finally, I want to thank my family and friends. Such an endeavor is profoundly easier
with so many caring people at your side. And especially Laura, whose love and support has kept
me sane through the entire process.
iii
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Page
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ........................................................................................................... iii
LIST OF FIGURES ....................................................................................................................... vi
CHAPTER 1. INTRODUCTION ................................................................................................... 1

1.1 The Problem ............................................................................................................ 1
1.2 Literature Review.................................................................................................... 3
1.3 Multi-Movement Considerations .......................................................................... 15
CHAPTER 2. THE MULTIDIMENSIONAL MUSICAL OBJECT ........................................... 19

2.1 Introduction ........................................................................................................... 19
2.2 One-Dimensional Musical Objects ....................................................................... 19
2.3 Two-Dimensional Musical Objects ...................................................................... 23
2.4 Three-Dimensional Musical Objects .................................................................... 25
2.5 Early Examples of Three-Dimensional Musical Objects...................................... 29
CHAPTER 3. JUSTIFYING THE MULTIDIMENSIONAL MODEL ....................................... 37

3.1 Justification for a Three-Dimensional Tonic Object ............................................ 37
3.2 Enharmonicism and the Augmented Triad ........................................................... 41
3.3 The Three-Dimensional Dominant Object as Binding Element ........................... 45
3.4 Sonata Form and the Identity Narrative ................................................................ 47
3.5 Function Entanglement ......................................................................................... 67
CHAPTER 4. FIRST MOVEMENT ANALYSIS........................................................................ 69

4.1 Introduction ........................................................................................................... 69
4.2 Introduction Analysis ............................................................................................ 70
4.3 Exposition Analysis .............................................................................................. 84
4.4 Development Analysis .......................................................................................... 90
4.5 Recapitulation Analysis ........................................................................................ 97
4.6 Cubism ................................................................................................................ 105
CHAPTER 5. FINALE ANALYSIS .......................................................................................... 109

5.1 Introduction ......................................................................................................... 109
iv
5.2 Tonic Prolongation.............................................................................................. 109
5.3 Subdominant Prolongation.................................................................................. 114
5.4 Coda .................................................................................................................... 126
CHAPTER 6. CONCLUSION.................................................................................................... 127

6.1 Introduction ......................................................................................................... 127
6.2 The Multidimensional Musical Object ............................................................... 128
6.3 First Movement Conclusions .............................................................................. 130
6.4 Finale Conclusions .............................................................................................. 132
6.5 Future Projects and Final Thoughts .................................................................... 133
BIBLIOGRAPHY ....................................................................................................................... 135
v
LIST OF FIGURES
Page
Figure 1.1: Schenker’s analysis of Chopin’s Op. 28, No. 2............................................................ 2
Figure 2.1: Two-Dimensional visual space metaphor .................................................................. 22
Figure 2.2: One- and two-dimensional musical objects................................................................ 22
Figure 2.3: Three musical objects and their dimensions............................................................... 25
Figure 2.4: Wormhole effect ......................................................................................................... 28
Figure 2.5: Three-dimensional musical object compressed into one-dimensional musical space.
....................................................................................................................................................... 29
Figure 2.6: Foreground of Schubert’s “Der Doppelgänger” ......................................................... 31
Figure 2.7: Middleground of Liszt’s Étude No. 3, Un Sospiro..................................................... 34
Figure 2.8: Middleground of Hiller’s Piano Concerto No. 1, Finale ............................................ 36
Figure 3.1: E major cadence embedded in C major cadence in Mahler’s Seventh Symphony,
Finale, mm. 13-15 ......................................................................................................................... 40
Figure 3.2: Interjection of Af major into C major in Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, Finale, mm.
51-52 ............................................................................................................................................. 40
Figure 3.3: Emergence of C augmented triad in Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, Finale, mm. 588-
590................................................................................................................................................. 41
Figure 3.4: Middleground of Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 1-31 ............. 42
Figure 3.5: Superimposition of Af and Gs enharmonics in Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first

movement, mm. 19-20 .................................................................................................................. 43
Figure 3.6: Augmented triads as dominants, derived by Schoenberg in Theory of Harmony ...... 44
Figure 3.7: Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 114-117 ................................... 46
Figure 3.8: Deep middleground in Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 145-468
....................................................................................................................................................... 47
Figure 3.9: Middleground of Haydn’s Symphony No. 93 in D major, first movement ............... 53
Figure 3.10: Middleground of Haydn’s Symphony No. 95 in C minor, first movement ............. 54
Figure 3.11: “Common sense” middleground of Schubert’s “Unfinished,” first movement ....... 57
vi
Figure 3.12: Alternative middleground of Schubert’s “Unfinished,” first movement ................. 59
Figure 3.13: (a) Deep middleground of Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 1-410
....................................................................................................................................................... 64
Figure 4.1: Three-dimensional V, I, and IV objects ..................................................................... 69
Figure 4.2: Three-dimensional supertonic object ......................................................................... 70
Figure 4.3: Section 1, B cadence from Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 1-18
....................................................................................................................................................... 72
Figure 4.4: B minor cadence in Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 15-19 ....... 74
Figure 4.5: Section 2, G major half cadence from Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement,
mm. 19-22 ..................................................................................................................................... 75
Figure 4.6: Section 2, Ef major ‘cadence’ from Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement,
mm. 23-27 ..................................................................................................................................... 76
Figure 4.7: Gs half-diminished and Af minor chords ................................................................... 78
Figure 4.8: Middleground, Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 1-50................. 80
Figure 4.9: Section 3 middleground and the ‘fourths’ motif from Mahler’s Seventh Symphony,
first movement, mm. 32-49........................................................................................................... 82
Figure 4.10: Harmonic frequency ................................................................................................. 83
Figure 4.11: First group from Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 50-57 .......... 86
Figure 4.12: First group continued from Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 58-
64................................................................................................................................................... 87
Figure 4.13: Middleground, Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 50-134........... 88
Figure 4.14: Middleground, Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 135-245......... 92
Figure 4.18: Middleground, Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 478-508....... 102
Figure 4.19: Middleground, Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 510-515....... 103
Figure 4.20: Middleground, Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, mm. 466-512 ................................. 104
vii
Figure 5.1: Middleground, Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, Finale, mm. 1-70 ............................. 111
Figure 5.2: Middleground, Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, Finale, mm. 79-135 ......................... 111
Figure 5.3: Middleground, Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, Finale, mm. 136-218 ....................... 113
Figure 5.4: Middleground, Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, mm. 220-290 ................................... 116
Figure 5.5: Middleground, Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, mm. 291-351 ................................... 118
viii
CHAPTER 1
INTRODUCTION
1.1 The Problem
The topic of this dissertation grew out of a question: what is the key of Mahler’s Seventh
Symphony (1904-1905)? The Dover edition makes the simultaneously bold and yet indecisive
claim that the symphony is in “B Minor / E Minor / C Major”; 1 it seemed that answering this
question would be difficult. The latest critical edition does not attempt to assign a key for the
whole work and instead leaves the title as “Symphonie Nr. 7,” which correlates with the original
manuscript. 2 Of course, key designations on title pages appear to be largely a tradition of
cataloging practice – a handy way to differentiate one symphony from another – and hardly a
significant indicator of a symphony’s structure. Still, we must be aware of any potentially
subliminal influence that title key-designations might impose on our analytical decisions. When
a symphony is described as being in a key, then it would seem that an assumption is made that
this multi-movement work exists within the confines of a single, global key. But is that the case?
It is easy enough to understand that a modulation to a closely related key for a middle movement
can be read in the context of the global key; however, more adventurous key regions could pose
a challenge. The most difficult task is to account for multi-movement structures in which the first
and last movements are in different keys. In these cases, the hierarchical authority of a single
global key is at best challenged and at worst non-existent.
A piece that exists within a unified, closed structure is less susceptible to global-key
problems. If such a piece begins and ends in a different key, then a reasonable explanation is that
1
Gustav Mahler, Symphony No. 7 (New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1992), iii.
2
Gustav Mahler, Symphonie Nr. 7, ed. Reinhold Kubik (Berlin: Boosey & Hawkes, 2012); my analyses and graphs
are derived from this edition.
1
it falls under the category of an auxiliary cadence. 3 For example, Chopin’s Prelude Op. 28, No. 2
begins on an E minor chord, which is understood as VI in the context of the first cadence on G
major. However, neither E minor nor G major are the global tonic; the prelude ends on the actual
global tonic of A minor. On a deeper level, the opening E minor chord is retrospectively
understood as V of A minor and G major as III of V, which is how Heinrich Schenker reads the
prelude (Fig. 1.1). 4 This reading is logical because each prolongation unfolds organically and
structurally uninterrupted, and can be understood as functions in relation to the tonic;
additionally, the order of the preludes in Op. 28 informs us that the tonic of Prelude No. 2 is
undoubtedly A minor. 5 These analytical advantages do not extend to multi-movement works
where different prolongations can be closed off from one another and there is no preordained,
definitive tonic. The only real guideline by which one can gauge the tonal hierarchy in a multi-
movement work is the establishment of one primary key in the first movement and its definitive
return in the Finale. When a multi-movement work falls outside of this design, then the analyst
must rely on other less objective criteria to determine a tonal hierarchy. In these cases, a feasible
conclusion is that the true tonic arrives in the finale and the other prolonged key of the first
movement is part of a large-scale auxiliary cadence.
Figure 1.1: Schenker’s analysis of Chopin’s Op. 28, No. 2
3
Heinrich Schenker, Free Composition, trans. Ernst Oster (New York: Longman, 1979), 88–89.
4
Schenker, Free Composition (Fig. 110.3).
5
The key of each prelude is not included in the titles in the original manuscript, only the number. However, the
inclusion of the key in the title for each prelude is very common, which, given how a collection of preludes is
organized, seems to be a safe conclusion.
2
However, some multi-movement structures that begin and end in different keys, such as
Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, can be better understood as operating within the confines of a
different tonal paradigm rather than relegated to an auxiliary cadence. My dissertation explores a
new model that can reconcile multi-movement works that otherwise challenge a monotonal
reading. The multidimensional musical object allows the analyst to expand the traditional tonic
from a single triad into a nexus of interconnected triads. These additional tonal dimensions help
to simplify the complicated harmonic language of late nineteenth-century composers by
incorporating more chords within a single function – or a single Stufe for Schenkerian analysis.
This model is informed by the music itself, as presented by composers like Mahler, and builds
upon a number of other methodologies that have grappled with this species of musical structure.
1.2 Literature Review
Some notable methodologies have been developed to address the issue of conflicting
tonic identities in multi-movement structures. The term progressive tonality was first proposed
by Dika Newlin in her book Bruckner, Mahler, Schoenberg, although no real methodology is
laid out. 6 Rather, it is merely a way to point out that some of Mahler’s musical structures appear
to belie the traditional design of a single, global tonic (what Newlin refers to as concentric
tonality) that bookends the work; that the hierarchical authority is at some point transferred from
one key to another. Some of her applications of progressive tonality are in fact better understood
as auxiliary cadences or otherwise within the framework of one global tonic. For example, she
labels the first movement of Mahler’s Seventh Symphony as progressive since it begins in B
minor yet ends in E minor/major. 7 However, this reading would assume that B minor is
6
Dika Newlin, Bruckner, Mahler, Schoenberg (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1978), 129.
7
Newlin, Bruckner, Mahler, Schoenberg, 186.
3
hierarchically equal to E minor/major, when a more nuanced analysis would understand that the
B minor prolongation ultimately functions as V of E. On the other hand, the applicability of
progressive tonality to the entire symphonic structure is a more feasible proposition considering
that it shifts from E minor/major to C major; E minor could serve as III of C in an auxiliary
fashion, but the emergence of E major at the end of the movement begins to blur that diatonic
relationship. Since Newlin does not qualify progressive tonality beyond a basic definition it is
difficult to fully unpack its potential or specific meaning. It is also possible that her concept is
not concerned with issues of hierarchy, and rather is simply categorical in nature.
A number of other scholars have developed methodologies that attempt to address the
phenomenon marked by Newlin’s term. Deborah Stein explores more deeply the concept under
the moniker directional tonality. 8 She defines the process in the following passage:
Directional tonality uses two different keys in the following way. One key functions as an
opening tonality; and after the first key is clearly established as a tonic, a transformation
occurs whereby the initial tonic becomes a nontonic function within a second tonality.
The piece then concludes in the second key. The ultimate effect of directional tonality is
twofold: first, the original tonality loses its identity as a tonal focus in deference to the
second tonality; and second, the piece is heard as beginning and ending in two different
keys. 9
This approach stands in stark contrast to Schenker’s concept of the auxiliary cadence, which
retrospectively understands the opening key as a function of the structural tonic that closes the
piece. Stein argues that an auxiliary cadence reading does not address the nuanced relationship
between the opening and closing keys – nor the transformation from one to the other – in such
pieces, particularly in works where key shifts are used to emphasize text. In other words, a
hierarchical bias towards one key could impact the interpretation of the other. Rather than one
8
See Deborah Stein, Hugo Wolf’s Lieder and Extensions of Tonality (Ann Arbor, Michigan: UMI Research Press,
1985), 143–49. Stein attributes the term to Robert Bailey “in his lectures at Yale University and the Eastman School
of Music,” 228.
9
Stein, Hugo Wolf’s Lieder, 143.
4
superior tonic, “the overriding factor is the coexistence in directional tonality of two equally
weighted [my emphasis] tonal centers within one musical work.” 10
In order to further differentiate directional tonality from a traditional auxiliary cadence
reading, Stein also examines Chopin’s Op. 28, No. 2. Her reading emphasizes the tonally
ambiguous beginning, which she posits can be understood as in either E minor or G major. Thus,
the prelude has a tonal pairing between E minor/G major and A minor; that is, the piece has two,
or possibly three, equally weighted and real tonics. However, as previously noted, the tonic
designation of this prelude is very clearly A minor because of the very order of the preludes.
There also is no text on which to base an argument whereby E minor or G major are poetically
intended as equals to A minor. We must then ask what exactly is gained in a directional tonality
scenario that would validate such an interpretation, which seems to be structural in nature.
However, despite the claim of structural equality between the different keys, Stein’s conclusion
is more appropriately phenomenological:
[T]he difference between the Schenkerian reading and the directional tonal reading is that
while both agree that the opening E minor can be understood retrospectively as a minor
V, the directional tonal reading does not define the initial function of E minor as that of
dominant. 11
In other words, the listener does not experience the opening E minor as a dominant function,
which is a fair assessment in the given context of the piece. But experience alone does not alter
the underlying structure or tonal hierarchy. The issue with Stein’s methodology is that its claims
reach beyond its conclusions. She attempts to distinguish directional tonality as structurally
distinct from the Schenkerian method, but her description comes across as vague and even
contradictory. Consider the two following statements: “[In directional tonality] the opening
10
11
5
ultimately yields to the closing tonality”; and “In Schenkerian analysis the opening is ultimately
subsumed by the closing [tonality].” 12 The only difference between her definitions of directional
tonality and an auxiliary cadence reading, then, is the interpretation of the words yield and
subsumed. “Subsumed” would seem to accurately depict an auxiliary cadence reading where one
tonic is hierarchically superior. “Yields,” on the other hand, does not, in my estimation, evoke
structural equality in a tonal pairing; instead, it suggests that the opening tonal region is by
default weaker than the closing tonic. Rather than argue the need for a new methodology, she has
conflated directional tonality with an already well-established analytical tool. Directional tonality
may shed some phenomenological insight into pieces with text, but its structural claims are
redundant and needlessly confusing with the already well-established concept of the auxiliary
cadence in Schenkerian analysis.
Christopher Lewis finds the concept of progressive tonality to be problematic:
[I]t is gravely misleading, since to distinguish between “progressive” and “concentric”

pieces solely according to the beginning and ending keys is to imply that Mahler’s music
alternates, apparently at random, between two tonal languages. It is internal syntactical
relationships which define a musical language, and while progressive tonality requires a
violation of certain of the rules of common practice, a violation of those rules need not
necessarily produce a progressive background. 13
Lewis is concerned that such “progressive” designs may be better understood as auxiliary
cadences, although he does not state that explicitly. He argues that,
It is quite clear from the Schenkerian definition of common-practice tonality that the
identity of beginning and ending keys arises from a syntactical imperative rather than
from the composer’s choice. A common-practice piece does not just begin and end in the
same key, is not simply “in” a given key, but expresses a single tonic triad. 14
12
13
Christopher Lewis, Tonal Coherence in Mahler’s Ninth Symphony (Ann Arbor, Michigan: UMI Research Press,
1984), 2. It is possible that Lewis is likewise referring to directional tonality since he studied with Robert Bailey,
but that point is never made clear.
14
Lewis, Tonal Coherence, 2.
6
Syntax provides information through order and arrangement; thus, in one aspect of musical
syntax, a great deal of information is revealed by the structural bookends of a piece. The inherent
hierarchical authority of the tonic triad is made apparent because it is placed in these significant
syntactical locations. In other words, tonic assignment is not random but a logical result of
syntactic emphasis. For pieces in which the beginning and ending keys are different, then a
hierarchical relationship should be determinable based on harmonic syntax. To return to
Chopin’s Op. 28, No. 2 as an example, the progression from E minor to A minor as V to I is a
more appropriate assessment within the common-practice tonal syntax than is I to IV – although
an off-tonic ending is not out of the realm of possibility.
However, Lewis argues that these hierarchical relationships collapse when the beginning
key is disproportionately more weighted than the closing key. As an example,
the “deceptive beginning” of the Finale of the Mahler Second Symphony occupies more
than 90 percent of the movement, since the earliest point at which the Ursatz of Ef could
be taken as beginning is m. 696 (of 764). It is true that the elements of the Ursatz are
important because of function and not duration, and that the Ursatz itself is an
abstraction, but an abstraction so far removed from one’s perception of the piece seems
of limited value. 15
For these pieces he instead adopts Robert Bailey’s double-tonic complex model. 16 Lewis finds
that this new methodology is necessary because music from the “post-Wagnerian tonal tradition”
largely uses a new syntax that involves paired tonics. 17 The double-tonic complex model
proposes that such a piece is structured around two equal tonics that are usually a third apart that
often, but not always, manifest on the musical surface as a poly-sonority, sometimes even at
important structural events. For example, Bailey’s analysis of the Prelude to Wagner’s Tristan
15
16
See Robert Bailey, “An Analytical Study of the Sketches and Drafts,” in Prelude and Transfiguration from Tristan
and Isolde, ed. Robert Bailey (New York: W.W. Norton, 1985), 121–122.
17
Christopher Lewis, “Mirrors and Metaphors: On Schoenberg and Nineteenth – Century Tonality,” in Music at the
Turn of Century, ed. Joseph Kerman (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990): 21.
7
und Isolde suggests that the piece is structured around a complex of the chromatic modes of A
and C, and that this double-tonic complex manifests in the music as the sonority A-C-E-G –
which can be understood as a superimposition of A minor and C major. 18 He states that, “this
complex serves as the controlling tonic for the entire first act, which both begins (in the Prelude)
and ends with the A/C complex.” 19
However, Bailey’s description and application of the model is brief and as a result is
vulnerable to several concerns about the validity of such an approach. Matt BaileyShea in
response raises the following questions:
In what sense is the complex a “controlling tonic”? Is it a surface tonic sonority? Can it
be prolonged like a traditional tonic? Does it function as the goal of directed linear and
harmonic progressions? Bailey suggests that the answer is “yes,” but he presents the idea
in a brief, ad hoc manner, leaving no guidelines for the general case. 20
These points are valid and are crucial elements for any model that claims to alter what can be a
tonic. BaileyShea identifies three categories of double-tonic complex applications and ranks
them according to their level of controversy:
Category 1: Tonal Pairing

A piece consistently vacillates between two keys, usually third related, often with
dramatic/associative connotations. This is quite common in nineteenth-century
music.
Category 2: [Double Tonic Complex] (motivic)

The piece exhibits tonal pairing as in category one, but with a crucial addition –
the pairing of the two keys acts as an abstract motive, which manifests in a variety
of idiosyncratic gestures: one tonic appearing in place of the other; ambiguous
passages that could be interpreted in either key; striking, dissonant harmonies
generated by the conflation of two different tonic triads, etc. This is somewhat
rare in nineteenth-century music.
18
Bailey, “An Analytical Study,” 121–125.
19
Bailey, “An Analytical Study,” 122.
20
Matt BaileyShea, “The Hexatonic and the Double Tonic: Wolf’s ‘Christmas Rose,’” Journal of Music Theory 51,
no. 2 (Fall 2007): 193.
8
Category 3: [Double Tonic Complex] (structural)
A piece exhibits the same features as category two, but in this case the conflation
of tonic triads is not simply a motivic possibility – it operates as a prolonged tonic
sonority, one that contains at least four constituent pitch classes. This is extremely
rare in nineteenth-century music; arguably impossible. 21
In his own application of the double-tonic complex to Wolf’s Auf eine Christblume I and II,
BaileyShea prefers the motivic emphasis of category two. He states that:
This [motivic] interpretation does not weaken Bailey’s concept; on the contrary, it is
precisely the opposite possibility – that double-tonic complexes operate as structural,
“controlling tonics” in nineteenth-century music – that has most weakened the idea. By
adopting a looser, motivic approach with regard to the double-tonic complex, we free it
from the dead ends that it appears to have reached in prior research. 22
BaileyShea, perhaps because of Robert Bailey’s insufficient explanation of the model, finds the
structural interpretation of the double-tonic complex to be misguided; that the current model is
not strong enough to challenge the more traditional single-tonic background. In other words,
extraordinary structural claims require extraordinary evidence.
Christopher Lewis attempted to refine the methodology of the double-tonic complex in
his analyses and laid out what he considered to be its most signal characteristics in a
composition:
1. Juxtaposition of musical fragments implying the two tonics in succession or

alternation.
2. Mixture of the two tonalities, exploiting ambiguous and common harmonic functions.
3. Use of a tonic sonority created by conflation of the two tonic triads.
4. Superposition of lines or textures in one key upon those in another.
5. Some combination of the above. 23
With these guidelines he is then substantially more able to utilize the double-tonic complex. He
21
BailyShea, “The Hexatonic and the Double Tonic,” 195.
22
BailyShea, “The Hexatonic and the Double Tonic,” 208–209.
23
9
also expands the possible complex by incorporating the upper and lower thirds of both modes.
For example, in his analysis of Mahler’s Ninth Symphony the principal tonic pitch of the first
movement, D, is paired with B (from the major mode) and Bf (from the minor mode); and those
tonal regions are further expanded by their lower thirds: Gs and Gn, and Gn and Gf,
respectively. 24 The Finale’s tonic pitch, Df, is similarly derived as the minor upper-third of Bf.
However, Lewis finds more convincing that the Df centered Finale is a result of a transposition
of the “motto progression” that involves descending major thirds: D-Bf-Gf from the first
movement, which becomes Df-A-F in the Finale. 25 As a result, Lewis seems to weaken the
structural impetus of the double-tonic complex, and that the Df centered Finale is the
consequence of other forces. Additionally, the expansion of the tonic complex to all possible
third relationships, and not discerning any hierarchy between them, trivializes the tonic function
– the complex becomes dangerously close to arbitrary.
Graeme Downes in his dissertation on Mahler’s symphonies instead focuses exclusively
on major third relationships. 26 His analytical model, axial tonality, relies more on the concept of
progressive tonality than the double-tonic complex, although there are certainly some influences
from the latter. In essence, pitches related by a major third are on an axis; members from the
same axis share a number of voice-leading characteristics and, under the right circumstances, can
substitute for one another in harmonic and structural functions. Altogether there are four axes
within any tonal context: the subdominant axis, the tonic axis, the dominant axis, and the super-
tonic axis. For example, a piece in C major can have a clearly established tonic on the C major
24
25
Lewis, Tonal Coherence, 103–104.
26
Graeme Alexander Downes, “An Axial System of Tonality Applied to Progressive Tonality in the Works of
Gustav Mahler and Nineteenth – Century Antecedents” (PhD diss., University of Otago, Dunedin, New Zealand,
1994).
10
chord, but can easily shift the tonic authority to either E or Af – and either temporarily or
permanently. In order to distinguish between the possible tonics, and maintain some sense of
structural hierarchy, Downes labels the “true” tonic as I (C, in this example), the upper third
tonic (E) as Iα, and the lower third tonic (Af) as Iβ. Accordingly, the functions of each tonic are
labeled by the same method: G major as V, B major as Vα, and Ef major as Vβ. The fluidity
between axis members is derived largely from the multifunctionality of the augmented triad. To
continue the previous example, the sonority created by a combination of the dominant-axis
members Ef-G-B is an enhanced dominant that could logically resolve to any tonic-axis member
– it only requires a reinterpretation of the perceived root.
In Downes’ model, there are two types of progressive tonality: progression within the
same axis or progression to a different axis (trans-axial progression). Mahler’s Seventh
Symphony would fall within the first category since the progression E minor to C major involves
members from the same axis. The second category can be best understood as an auxiliary
cadence, in which the initial tonic is retrospectively understood as a function of the real tonic that
arrives at the structural close – but it is perhaps more flexible regarding the functional
relationship between keys. For example, Mahler’s Fifth Symphony employs a trans-axial
progression from Cs minor to D major; at the end of the symphony, and within the context of a D
major tonic, Cs minor from the first movement is understood as Vα – a progression from the
dominant axis (A-Cs-F) to the tonic axis. In both categories, the true tonic is found at the
structural close of the finale; even when the progression involves members from the tonic axis,
as in Mahler’s Seventh, only the final tonic has real hierarchical authority. To put it more simply,
in Downes’ model E minor is not equal to C major in the Seventh Symphony, but rather is
ultimately subservient to it. Unfortunately, Downes deliberately avoids any Schenkerian graphic
11
representations of his analyses which makes it difficult to estimate his methodology’s
effectiveness. He instead provides general key schemes and their contextual functions for each
movement, and the reader is given little evidence to confirm the reading.
Although the topic is never mentioned in his dissertation, Downes’ model is uncannily
similar in many aspects to transformational models, specifically the hexatonic cycle. The
hexatonic cycle is a collection of six triads related by P (parallel) + L (leading tone)
transformations, and, as a result, the three roots are a major third apart: C major, C minor, Af
major, Af minor, E major, and E minor. 27 Of course, current transformational models are less
concerned with function and instead focus on smooth, efficient voice leading in highly chromatic
passages that might otherwise challenge traditional analytical techniques. For example, a cycle of
chromatic mediants (a hexatonic cycle) may be difficult to reconcile in a tonal context, but the
voice-leading mechanics are made comprehensible as a pattern of transformations. Downes,
whether he was exposed to transformational ideas or not, picked up on these hexatonic
relationships and unified them into his four tonal axes, upon which a function could be applied.
A few years later in his article “As Wonderful as Star Clusters: Instruments for Gazing at
Tonality in Schubert,” Richard Cohn proposed a methodology that resonates closely with
Downes’ axial tonal model. Instead of an axis on which major-third related triads are placed,
triads a major third from traditional functional roles – like the tonic – are considered to be in the
same region. 28 Cohn does not suggest the same type of substitutability as does Downes, but
rather that the regions offer non-diatonic ways in which diatonic triads can be prolonged. For
example, in his analysis of Schubert’s Bf Major Piano Sonata, D. 960 the Bf tonic and F
27
Richard Cohn, Audacious Euphony: Chromaticism and the Triad’s Second Nature (New York: Oxford Press,
2012), 17–24.
28
Richard Cohn, “As Wonderful as Star Clusters: Instruments for Gazing at Tonality in Schubert,” 19th – Century
Music 22, no. 3 (Spring 1999): 213–232.
12
dominant are both prolonged, in their respective sections, by keys a major third apart. 29 For
Cohn, the tonal authority of Bf is never truly relinquished to its major-third counterparts; his
primary concern is not necessarily function, but the semitonal system that guides these regions.
[R]ecognizing consonant triads, authentic cadences, and monotonal sonata forms in

Schubert’s music, we naturally interpret them in familiar tonal and diatonic terms.
Encountering now syntactic combinations that resist adequate interpretation in those
terms, we might surmise that the music is disjunct, purple, arbitrary, aimless, disunified,
unstructured, incoherent, indeterminate, or coloristic. The “music itself” is now left
behind as inaccessible to further analysis, its place occupied by an interchangeable set of
hypostatized ascriptions, which might serve as a basis for speculation on the cultural
features that these qualities reflect and that the music thereby inscribes.
The approach developed in this article suggests that Schubert’s chromatic idiosyncracies
are not arbitrary, aimless, or indeterminate by mere virtue of their irreconcilability to
diatonic tonality. Some of them simply adhere to an alternative mode of
determination…. 30
The alternative mode is the transformational model of the hexatonic cycle, which shows
that these major-third related triads have a kind of kinship through shared pitches and semitonal
voice leading. Cohn never goes so far as to say that each member of the hexatonic cycle is tonic
or can be tonic, but rather that they operate as prolongational methods outside of the diatonic
system.
Another concept that is important for this discourse is Edward Laufer’s primary or
referential sonority. For Laufer, post-tonal prolongation is possible in pieces in which a primary
sonority, in place of a major or minor tonic triad, is emphasized through rhetorical or gestural
compositional features. 31 In a 2003 interview with Stephen Slottow, Laufer provides some
additional insights:
29
Cohn, “As Wonderful as Star Clusters,” 218–219.
30
Cohn, “As Wonderful as Star Clusters,” 232.
31
Edward Laufer, “An Approach to Linear Analysis of Some Early Twentieth – Century Compositions,” in A
Composition as a Problem IV: Proceedings of the Fourth International Conference on Music Theory, ed. M.
Khumal, 89–134 (Tallinn: Eesti Muusikaakadeemia, 2004), 133–134.
13
The thing is that one simply cannot have motives, or even complex motivic features just
floating around on nothing….
[The primary sonority is] not going to be a major triad and it’s not going to be a minor
triad, it’s going to be some other sort of sonority, and it is difficult sometimes. But if it’s
too difficult, then it becomes something of an academic exercise. I think that if it doesn’t
have a certain kind of directness, if it’s not in some way – I hate to use the word obvious,
but that’s what I should say, perhaps – then it’s wrong. It’s not the primary sonority. It
really has to stand out as such….
[The primary sonority] might be arpeggiated throughout the piece. Or it might move to
such a sonority. Up to now I believe that it occurs at the ending of a piece. 32
Thus, the primary sonority facilitates the compositional roles typically filled by a tonic sonority:
the establishment and development of motivic material, goal-oriented cadential or structural
weight (particularly at the end of a piece), and prolongation at the middle and background levels.
But the primary sonority must be apparent, or obvious as Laufer states it. Its hierarchical status
should be a logical conclusion of a thorough analysis.
All of the methodologies so far discussed have sought to explain music that appears to
challenge the traditional monotonal model, especially those that begin and end in different keys.
Each method brings something useful to the discourse: directional tonality argues that music that
begins and ends in different keys should not necessarily be confined within the bounds of
monotonality; the double-tonic complex suggests that two triads can have equal authority in a
hierarchical model; axial tonality provides a way to sharpen the different types of progressive
tonality and explores the substitutability of major-third related triads; transformational models
and the hexatonic cycle further elucidate the mechanics of major-third related triads and offer a
non-diatonic alternative to prolongation; the primary sonority expands what can be considered
fundamental to a piece beyond a major or minor triad, and establishes some guidelines for post-
32
Stephen Slottow, “An Interview with Edward Laufer,” in Explorations in Schenkerian Analysis, ed. David Beach
and Su Yin Mak, 328–348 (Rochester, NY: University of Rochester Press, 2016), 342.
14
tonal prolongational techniques. Although I find certain aspects of each method to be useful,
none of them are comprehensive enough to explain satisfactorily the tonal structure of Mahler’s
Seventh Symphony and other works like it. The vocabulary of Schenkerian analysis is likewise
too limited when it comes to musical works that challenge a monotonal reading. Outside of an
auxiliary cadence reading, the analyst is forced to reconcile all harmonic and structural oddities,
such as those that are so prevalent in the works of Mahler and other late-nineteenth-century
compositions, within the confines of a single, global tonic triad. Instead, I propose a model that
synthesizes these methodologies with the Schenkerian model: the multidimensional musical
object.
1.3 Multi-Movement Considerations
Before delving into my methodology, there is another issue that I must address: the
relevance of a global tonic to a multi-movement work. We find a possible answer in looking
back to the suite, one of the earliest instrumental multi-movement genres. In his book The
Courtly Consort Suite in German-Speaking Europe, 1650-1706, Michael Robertson unpacks the
history of the suite and its true defining characteristics. The conclusion of chapter three provides
the best summary:
Seventeenth-century court suites were sequences of movements - mostly dances - which

were united by a common key centre. With the exception of the bransle suite, the
contents of these sequences varied widely and were subject to the whims of copyists or
the performing musicians. It is unlikely that either scribes or members of the German
Hofkapellen ever gave a moment’s thought to a ‘classical’ order. 33
Throughout the chapter he argues that the evidence discloses that the precise order of
movements was not a defining factor for what constituted a suite; that, “the so-called ‘classical
33
Michael Robertson, The Courtly Consort Suite in German – Speaking Europe, 1650–1706 (Burlington, VT:
Ashgate Publishing Company, 2009), 64.
15
order’ was imposed upon the suite, presumably in an attempt to give it a readily identifiable
sonata-like hierarchy and structure.” 34 Instead, the main identifiable characteristic of a suite that
is confirmable is that each movement is united by key. This conclusion is corroborated through a
contemporary musicologist of the seventeenth-century suite:
The most important part of [Brossard’s] definition lies in what follows. He states that the
movements of a suite are ‘tout cela compose sur le même Ton ou Mode’ (all composed in
the same key or mode). Brossard emphasizes ‘le même Ton ou Mode’ by using the
phrase twice in the same definition. And with the exception of Austria, and particularly
the imperial court of Vienna, the same is true for nearly every suite written in the German
lands. 35
The evidence suggests that what crystallizes the otherwise disparate movements of a suite –
which in some cases could come from different sources and composers – into a coherent whole is
the continuity of key. As one of the earliest instrumental multi-movement models, we can
surmise that this genre-defining element of the suite influenced its compositional successors, like
the symphony.
The weight of coherence gradually shifted from total unity of key to other elements, such
as the specific order of movements (the ‘classical order’ to which Robertson refers) and a greater
sense of global thematic connection. This shift in the organic design freed composers from the
necessity to relegate each movement within the confines of a single key. As a result, the interior
movements, as in the early symphonies of Haydn, could be composed in closely related keys,
most commonly the keys of the dominant and subdominant. But the exterior movements
remained bound to the global key, like structural bookends that held the work together. Haydn
explored the option of a modal shift on the global tonic in his Symphony No. 45, which begins in
34
Robertson, The Courtly Consort Suite, 45.
35
Robertson, The Courtly Consort Suite, 58; see also Brossard, [?] de, Dictionaire de Musique, contenant une
explication des termes Grecs, Latins, Italiens, & Françios les plus usitez dans la Musique (Paris, 1703; facsm. F.
Knuf (ed.), Hilversum, 1965).
16
Fs minor but ultimately concludes in Fs major. Beethoven famously employed this modal-shift
design into his Fifth and Ninth Symphonies and on a much grander scale.
It is difficult to find evidence that composers were keenly concerned that a multi-
movement work begin and end in the same key. The largest cache of evidence is the repertoire
itself, in which the overwhelming practice is to begin and end in the same key; those modally
fluid compositions were exceptional because they diverged from that tradition. Mahler’s
symphonic oeuvre is likewise exceptional because it repeatedly belies that common practice. We
must assume that Mahler was aware of those symphonic traditions and that his multi-movement
designs were informed by its most salient characteristics. One could conclude that Mahler
deliberately avoids or abandons tradition, but my analysis provides evidence to the contrary.
1.4 Glossary of Terms
• Dominant of opposition – A dominant that prevents a true structural close.
• Functional entanglement – A compositional paradox in which two or more harmonic
functions (tonic, subdominant, or dominant) occupy the same space and obscure middleground
or background structures.
• Identity crisis – The harmonic event in sonata form in which the oppositional
harmony confirms its separation from the tonic and becomes a background Stufe.
• Identity narrative – A series of three expected harmonic events in sonata form
(identity schism, identity crisis, and identity reclamation).
• Identity reclamation – The harmonic event in sonata form in which the tonic wrests
control of the background structure and regains its status as a background Stufe.
17
• Identity schism – The harmonic event in sonata form in which the oppositional
harmony initiates a separation from the tonic.
• Multidimensional musical object (MMO) – A higher-dimensional sonority that is a
nexus of two or more chords.
• Oppositional harmony – A harmony that establishes itself as a background Stufe and
challenges the tonic’s status.
• Rotation – A means of composing-out a multidimensional music object in which it is
shifted from one side to another.
18
CHAPTER 2
THE MULTIDIMENSIONAL MUSICAL OBJECT
2.1 Introduction
The multidimensional musical object (MMO) can best be thought of as an expansion of
the triad, but not in the sense of a tertian extension like a 7th or 9th. Rather, a MMO is a more
complex set of pitches that functions similarly to a triad as a compositional component. In the
Schenkerian model, the triad is what undergoes all of the processes of diminution, prolongation,
composing-out, etc.; the Ursatz is a temporal expression 36 of the tonic triad. My model suggests
that a MMO can substitute for a triad in these traditional compositional roles. The MMO
undergoes the processes of diminution, prolongation, composing-out, etc.; the Ursatz is a
temporal expression of the tonic MMO.
For all intents and purposes, my model provides new possibilities for Schenkerian
analysis. Because the Schenkerian graphing method was derived around a traditional tonic and
traditional conceptions of harmonic diminution, some adjustments were necessary to adapt it for
multidimensional harmony. The unfolding sign is used when a multidimensional musical object
is rotated (the concept of rotation is explored in section 2.3). In the case of three-dimensional
musical objects, a “double unfolding” sign can be employed to show multiple rotations of the
same object. The unfolding, or double unfolding, helps to clarify deeper contrapuntal structures
in that each multidimensional musical object belongs to one Stufe.
2.2 One-Dimensional Musical Objects
In order to understand the MMO properly, we must first reassess the triad within this new
36
I opt to use the term “temporal” in place of “horizontal,” what normally appears in Free Composition, so as to
avoid any confusion with geometric terminology; see Schenker, Free Composition, 4.
19
model. The Ursatz is a temporal expression of the tonic triad: the upper voice (Urlinie) is defined
by the passing motion to 1 from either 3, 5, or 8; the lower voice (Bassbrechung) arpeggiates
from the fundamental tone to its upper fifth and returns to the fundamental tone, or the “sacred
triangle.” 37 Each point within the contrapuntal structure is derived from the tonic triad, either
directly or indirectly – the 2 is not a direct member of the tonic triad, but supports a composing-
out of tonic triad’s upper fifth (V) and fills in the passing motion between 3 and 1. Although the
tonic triad undergoes the various transformations into background, middleground, and
foreground, the elements of its identity remain intact and unchanged – its constituent members
realign vertically at the structural close. To invoke the geometrical metaphor, we could say that
the identity of the tonic triad is one-dimensional; rather than a multidimensional musical object,
it is a unidimensional musical object. In a mathematical sense, a dimension is a property of space
– an extension in a given direction. An object in one dimension is measured by one set of
coordinates; therefore, only one type of object is possible in one dimension: a line. We can
imagine, then, that a major or minor triad is equal to a line. The coordinate of the first dimension
of musical objects, or dimension X, defines the position of the fundamental tone; for the
purposes of this model, the fifth and third, be it major or minor, are considered to be static in a
one-dimensional musical object. A one-dimensional tonic built on C can generate one type of
triad (major or minor), but cannot shift the position of its X coordinate without fundamentally
changing its identity. In other words, if the X coordinate of a one-dimensional tonic object is C
and it moves down a half step to B, then it is no longer the same object. A special explanation
would be necessary for a piece that begins on C and ends on B – those events are fundamentally
different.
37
Schenker, Free Composition, 15.
20
To unpack this geometry metaphor fully – and to be able to explore the higher-
dimensional musical objects – we have to define the musical space, or what can be heard at any
one moment in a piece of music. To be sure, all twelve pitches can sound at once either as a
cluster or spread out over varying ranges, but any arrangement will sound dissonant. On the
other hand, a major or minor triad is – at least in the tonal system – the model of consonance. In
order to understand the higher-dimensional musical objects let us define the musical space as
one-dimensional, where a one-dimensional musical object (i.e., a major or minor triad) sounds
consonant. A higher-dimensional musical object can be heard in the one-dimensional musical
space, but since it is losing at least one dimension in the process its true shape is distorted and it
will sound dissonant.
Figure 2.1 provides an analogy with visual dimensions that will help better to elucidate
this phenomenon. The first shape is a two-dimensional square represented on a two-dimensional
surface: the page. Each angle of the square appears correctly as 90° – there is no distortion
because the number of dimensions of the shape matches the dimensions of the medium. The
second shape, a three-dimensional cube, is distorted since an actual cube would be comprised
completely of 90° angles. This cube, however, is compressed into only two dimensions and, as a
result, some of the angles are acute or obtuse in order to give the illusion of depth – the
dimension missing from the medium. The four-dimensional hypercube is even further distorted
because this projection is missing two dimensions. 38 Every angle of the hypercube should also be
90°, but the majority of its angles are compromised in this two-dimensional shadow. We can
think of the square as visually consonant, the cube as visually dissonant, and the hypercube as
38
A hypercube is a theoretical object that could exist in a four – dimensional space. It is the four – dimensional
counterpart to the three – dimensional cube. In the same way that a cube has six squares for its sides, a hypercube
has eight cubes for its sides. A three – dimensional “side” does not make sense in our three – dimensional world,
hence it is only theoretical.
21
even more visually dissonant. In other words, the more dimensions an object contains outside the
dimension limit of the medium, then the more dissonant it is perceived. To experience an object
that contains more dimensions than the medium in which it is represented, we must rotate the
object. The principle is essentially the same for higher-dimensional musical objects when
confined within the one-dimensional musical space. Below I will further elaborate the process of
“rotation” in musical space in the discussions of two- and three-dimensional musical objects.
Figure 2.1: Two-Dimensional visual space metaphor
Figure 2.2: One- and two-dimensional musical objects
22
2.3 Two-Dimensional Musical Objects
The second dimension of a two-dimensional musical object, dimension Y, defines the
position of the third (Fig. 2.2). A two-dimensional musical object encompasses both the major
and the minor third; they rest upon the Y axis and, depending on the orientation of the object,
either one or both can appear on the musical surface. It is most common for the two sides to
appear separately (e.g., C minor and then C major), but the entire object can be compressed onto
the musical surface (a conflation, or superimposition, of C major and minor). This would, of
course, sound dissonant, just like the example of the three-dimensional cube in Figure 2.1 that is
squeezed into only two dimensions; we are able to perceive its true shape, but its geometrical
balance is lost in the medium.
Since a two-dimensional musical object does not consonantly fit onto the musical surface
it is typically composed out through a rotation. Here the term rotation is used literally, in that the
musical object is rotated around a specific axis and, as a result, a different side appears in the
musical space. The concept of rotation is perhaps the biggest philosophical difference between
my model and the transformation model. If a piece of music shifts its harmony from C major to
C minor, then the transformation model would say that a P (parallel) transformation occurs – that
the first harmony, C major, has actually transformed and become something different: C minor;
that they are two separate entities. My model, on the other hand, suggests that C major and C
minor can be two parts of the same object and, at the deepest level, would exist simultaneously,
like the two sides of a coin. Therefore, a two-dimensional musical object is most often composed
out through a Y rotation; a piece begins on one side of the two-dimensional musical object and
then rotates around the X axis to allow the other side to be seen. In this way, the entire two-
dimensional musical object is experienced, but in one-dimensional slices.
23
That a piece can encompass the parallel major and minor modes of one fundamental tone
is not a new concept; modal mixture is taught early on to all theory students. But in these cases,
tonic assignment is typically one-dimensional in that hierarchical authority is granted to one
mode over the other – typically the major mode is privileged. Others have argued that the
distinction between modes is less fruitful, particularly in the late nineteenth century. For
example, Robert Bailey suggests:
The terms major and minor remain useful, of course, but only for the purpose of
identifying the qualities of particular triads. When we want to identify the tonality of
large sections, or that of whole pieces or movements, it is best simply to refer to the key
by itself and to avoid specifying mode, precisely because the “chromatic” or mixed
major-minor mode is so often utilized. By extension, the sense that a passage from a
piece, or an entire movement, is in the major mode or in the minor mode is usually no
more than an illusion, created by restricting the particular inflection of the tonic triad
during the passage or movement in question to its major or minor form. 39
A prime – and early – example of this modal fluidity is Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony.
The first movement is solidly in the minor mode of C and the Finale is solidly in the major mode
of C. To specify either as the tonic lessens the significance of the other, but without the presence
of both the symphony would lose its expressive impact. Instead, we can denote the Fifth as
having a two-dimensional tonic object that begins on the minor side, rotates more freely in the
third movement, and, once the object stops spinning, lands on the major side for the Finale. The
frequency of the Y rotation in a composition increased as the nineteenth century progressed, and
by Mahler’s time the spinning of a two-dimensional musical object reached frenzied speeds. 40 So
much, in fact, that it began to lose its compositional effectiveness. Mahler, and other late
nineteenth-century composers, had to seek a new dimension for composing out the tonic.
39
Bailey, “An Analytical Study,” 116.
40
For example, in the second movement of Mahler’s Seventh the tonal emphasis switches rapidly between C minor
and C major, and at times they are even superimposed (m. 187).
24
2.4 Three-Dimensional Musical Objects
The coordinate of the X dimension is the fundamental tone, and the coordinate of the Y
dimension is the third. Logically, then, in a three-dimensional musical object the coordinate of
the Z dimension is the fifth (Fig. 2.3). As shown in Figure 2.3, the two Z coordinates – as
generated from C – are G and Af (or Gs). In comparison to the transformation model, this
rotation would be similar to the L (leading tone) transformation. If an L transformation is
performed on a C minor triad, then G would shift to Af; an L transformation performed on C
major would shift C to B because major and minor triads are treated as inversions of each other.
And while my model accounts for these rotations, it also provides two additional rotations that
do not occur in basic transformations: a Z rotation on C major shifts G to Gs, or C augmented; an
X rotation on C minor shifts C to B, or Ef augmented. Of course, the interpretation of the root for
an augmented triad can vary depending on the context. More discussion of augmented triads and
this model follow below.
Figure 2.3: Three musical objects and their dimensions
25
This third dimension has a significant effect on the behavior of the musical object in that,
unlike the one- and two-dimensional musical objects, the interpretation of the fundamental tone
can change based on the orientation of the object. For example, a Z rotation on C minor shifts G
to Af and those pitches are now best interpreted as Af major. Another visual analogy would be
helpful here. The cube in Figure 2.1 can be measured in height, length, and depth; if that cube
were to be rotated so that it rests on a different side, then the interpretation of its height, length,
and depth would change based on this new orientation. Likewise, the interpretation of the root,
third, and fifth of a three-dimensional musical object can change depending on its orientation.
Additionally, as briefly aforementioned, the third dimension opens up the possibility for an X
rotation. The X rotation is a consequence of the Z dimension in that the interpretation of the root
can now change, whereas that was not possible in the one- and two-dimensional musical objects.
Altogether the triads of the three-dimensional musical object comprise the hexatonic
cycle (C major, C minor, Af major, Af minor, E major, and E minor), along with two augmented
triads: one a collection of the three fundamental tones (C, E, and Af; the primary members), and
the other a collection of the three upper fifths (G, B, and Ef; the secondary members). For
analytical purposes, I have separated the six pitches of a three-dimensional musical object into
two categories: primary members, the pitch classes that can function as fundamental tones; and
secondary members, the pitch classes that can function as upper fifths. To borrow Graeme
Downes’ term, these augmented triads, when they appear in the musical space, are enhanced
versions of their normal functions: tonic (primary members) and dominant (secondary
members). 41 As a dominant function, the augmented triad works well since it is dissonant and
has a heightened sense of instability that requires resolution. On the other hand, a tonic function
41
Downes, “An Axial System of Tonality,” 18–25.
26
requires stability and an augmented tonic triad can only exist fleetingly in that capacity. 42
Typically, the s5 is reinterpreted as a f6 and the augmented triad stabilizes back to a major triad
through a 6-5 exchange. But the appearance of an augmented triad in a tonic capacity is
significant in that it superimposes the three fundamental tones in the musical space.
That augmented triads are dissonant is an issue for this model that must be explained.
Since we have defined the musical surface as one-dimensional where one-dimensional musical
objects are consonant, and augmented triads are dissonant on the musical surface, then it would
be logical that augmented triads are not one-dimensional objects. However, they comprise two of
the eight one-dimensional slices of a three-dimensional musical object. I propose that augmented
triads are like wormholes: unstable, topological anomalies that link together different parts of
spacetime, often separated by great distances. 43 Wormholes (hypothetically) exist in three-
dimensional space but behave differently in that they can seemingly violate the laws that govern
normal three-dimensional spaces. Likewise, augmented triads exist in the same one-dimensional
musical space as major and minor triads, but they behave differently and allow harmonic
progressions to traverse great distances in pitch space. If we take the three-dimensional musical
object built on the fundamental tones C, E, and Af, then its upper fifth, which is G, B, and Ef, is
an enhanced dominant that can feasibly resolve to a chord of any of those fundamental tones. In
this way, the musical space can traverse from C major to Af minor in a short amount of time.
More closely aligned with the wormhole analogy, however, is the potential for an augmented
triad to act like a portal that can lead to other three-dimensional musical objects (Fig. 2.4); the
42
However, Mahler does utilize the augmented triad as a point of arrival, particularly at the end of the Finale; see
chapter 5.
43
For a recent discussion on wormholes, see Mauricio Cataldo, Luis Liempi, and Pablo Rodriguez, “Traversable
Schwarzschild – like Wormholes,” The European Physical Journal C 77, no. 11 (2017): 1–9. They define
wormholes as “hypothetical tunnels connecting two asymptotically flat universes, or two asymptotically flat portions
of the same universe.”
27
three-dimensional tonic object shares a wall with the three-dimensional dominant and
subdominant objects. As a result, the augmented triads allow the music to slip easily between the
different functional spaces and opens up an entire universe of harmonic possibilities within a
single composition.
Figure 2.4: Wormhole effect
Another way to visualize the three-dimensional musical object would simply be to
compress all of its constituent notes into the one-dimensional musical space (Fig. 2.5). In this
arrangement we can see that the sonority is three sets of semitone pairs: B and C, Ef and En, and
G and Af. This symmetry is what gives the three-dimensional musical object its special abilities
to rotate because each pair of semitones can be interpreted on any axis. For example, C can
represent the root of C major on the X axis; an X rotation would bring B to the surface and
would represent the fifth of E minor – from this perspective the semitone pair is now on the Z
axis. Or the semitone pair C and Cf can be reinterpreted on the Y axis as the major and minor
third of Af, respectively. This fluidity of interpretation can have a significant impact on the
28
structural function of each pitch, and can even allow simultaneous or superimposed structures
where certain pitches or chords have multifaceted functions. Ultimately, the different structures
all serve to express the three-dimensional tonic object, since its one-dimensional projection, as
seen in Figure 2.5, does not neatly fit into the confines of tonality.
Figure 2.5: Three-dimensional musical object compressed into one-dimensional musical space
2.5 Early Examples of Three-Dimensional Musical Objects
Although it has been implicit in the methodological discussion thus far, these musical
objects are spatial and exist outside of time – they are abstract materials that can be temporally
sculpted into a composition. We can think of a composition as a musical spacetime where the
spatial and temporal dimensions of music are combined. When we conceptualize a composition
in this way, it allows a more nuanced reading than other analytical models can provide. Certain
middleground and even background details can emerge through the lens of a multidimensional
musical object that might otherwise go unnoticed in those methodologies that attempt to account
for “progressive” and chromatic-mediant designs. It is easy to view the role of certain major-
third relationships as non-essential, when they may in fact represent an unfolding of deeper
structures. These major-third relationships do not necessarily have to manifest as the bookends of
a structure, as in a progressive-tonal composition; significant events can occur in the middle of a
structure and still be relevant to a comprehensive background analysis.
As an example of this latter point, I present a reading of Schubert’s “Der Doppelgänger”
(1828). This piece is especially useful because there are many analyses in the literature to which
29
my reading can be compared. The prospect of revealing new information about a piece that has
been so extensively covered would seem difficult; perhaps some small details could be refined,
but the potential for any substantial observations is unlikely. Yet when Schubert’s setting is
understood as operating within a three-dimensional tonic object, some striking features are
revealed (Fig. 2.6). Most notably is the symbiotic relationship between B minor and Ds minor –
both are a part of the three-dimensional tonic object. In David Bretherton’s article “Schenker,
Cube and Schubert’s ‘Der Doppelgänger,’” he provides a comparison of multiple readings (side-
by-side graphic reductions can be found on page 182). 44 Most of the analyses downplay the
significance of the Ds minor passage (mm. 47-50) as a third-divider, or remove it completely
from the middleground voice-leading; Cube, in his original reading, focuses on the As (V of Ds)
as support for s4 (Es). This latter interpretation is closer to the reading I provide in that Es is a
significant structural pitch, but not as part of the 5-line Urlinie as indicated by Cube. Rather, I
perceive the Ds minor diversion as a rotation of the tonic object, and that Es is its structural 2.
Schubert’s setting of the text justifies this hermeneutical choice because Ds minor clearly
represents the Doppelgänger, which is another aspect, or form, of the narrator. The text indicates
that they exist in different timelines. In the first verse, our narrator is reliving past events that
occurred at a significant location: the house where his former beloved once lived. The trauma of
these memories induces a dream-like state in which the narrator is unaware of the present.
Schubert marks this passage with a vocal melody that likewise obsessively returns to the same
location of the past, represented by Fs (3 of Ds minor).
44
See David Bretherton, “Schenker, Cube and Schubert’s ‘Der Doppelgänger,’” Music Analysis 34, no. 2 (July
2015): 175–199.
30
Figure 2.6: Foreground of Schubert’s “Der Doppelgänger”
31
Not until the second verse that begins in m. 25 does the narrator break from this trance and return
to the present, now marked with Dn (3 of B minor). The catalyst for this transition is that the
narrator becomes cognizant of the other man. Once this other man is revealed to be his “own
form” (“eigne Gestalt”), their timelines collide and unfold simultaneously in the third verse (mm.
43ff.). The Doppelgänger is the manifestation of the narrator’s past and the suffering that is
associated with those events.
One main issue discussed in Bretherton’s article is that most analyses of “Der
Doppelgänger” take the initial vocal-line Fs as the Kopfton of B minor. Cube struggled to
reconcile some consequences of a 5-line reading (the structural support of 4) and sought out
Schenker’s advice. Schenker’s solution, which ultimately swayed Cube, was to designate the
piece as a 3-line because of the thematic content in the opening B minor ostinato (I have marked
this 3-2-1 in Fig. 2.6). However, I, like the other analysts discussed in the article, found the Fs
too important to relegate to a status as cover tone. My solution is that it is a structural pitch, but
for a different aspect of a three-dimensional tonic object: Ds minor. That Ds minor is used to
represent the Doppelgänger means that this key also symbolizes the past of the narrator. At the
very beginning of the vocal melody I have indicated in Figure 2.6 that the initial Fs is 3 of Ds
minor despite its placement over the B minor ostinato because our protagonist is reminiscing
about the past. When he mentally returns to the present (second verse, m. 25), the vocal line
shifts to the Kopfton of B minor (Dn). Ultimately, there is a register transfer of the Kopfton up an
octave in m. 53 and followed by the complete descent to 1 in m. 56. Beneath this descent, the
Urlinie of Ds continues as an inner voice; for the narrator, it is a literal inner voice – the
haunting, unspoken memories of his past. The Picardy third in m. 62 is thus the completion of
the Ds 3-line and the first time in the song where the two timelines are fully united. Perhaps this
32
union signifies an acceptance of the past, or simply indicates that the trauma is still apparent.
How one reads this ending is dependent upon the opening B minor ostinato, which, like our
protagonist, is presented as broken; in Figure 2.6 I have indicated that beats 1 and 3 are an
unfolding of the tonic and beats 2 and 4 an unfolding of the dominant. The “completed” B major
at the conclusion of the song is suggestive of some type of resolution, but the connotation is not
necessarily positive.
Liszt’s Étude No. 3, Un Sospiro from Three Concert Études (1845-49) is another
example where a piece begins and ends in the same key, but the tonic space is prolonged by what
could be considered a three-dimensional musical object (Fig. 2.7). The piece opens with the
perceived tonic of Df major and then moves through a series of key changes before concluding in
Df major. In m. 19, the key changes to three sharps and an arrival on A major occurs in m. 22. A
few bars later in m. 28 the harmony shifts back to the flat side, and in mm. 31-32 we get a clear
V-I in F major. Finally, in m. 42, a true fundamental shift in harmony occurs as we arrive on the
dominant, but enharmonically spelled as Gs. The structure is interrupted on this dominant, which
is prolonged until m. 56. Afterward, the Df major tonic returns in m. 57 with a modified version
of the first theme, and the structural close is achieved in m. 66. The three-dimensional tonic
object is briefly revisited in the penultimate measure, in which Df major arpeggiates to F major
before concluding in the final measure back on Df major. In a traditional analysis, A major could
be understood as fVI and F major as fVI of fVI, but I do not find these labels particularly
informative in a functional sense. Here, Liszt employs these harmonic centers to expand the tonic
space and delay the background shift to the dominant Stufe.
33
Figure 2.7: Middleground of Liszt’s Étude No. 3, Un Sospiro
There are precedents for progressive designs that can be read as multidimensional
musical objects. Two candidates for single movement designs are Chopin’s Ballade No. 2, Op.
38 (1836-1839) and Brahms’ String Quintet No. 1, Op. 88, ii (1882). Chopin’s Ballade begins in
F major and concludes in A minor; the second movement of Brahms’ String Quintet begins in C-
sharp major/minor, but ultimately closes in A major.
Another piece that is a remarkably early example of a multi-movement progressive design
is Ferdinand Hiller’s Piano Concerto No. 1, Op. 5 (1829-1831). The concerto begins in F minor,
proceeds to Df major in the second movement, and the Finale concludes in Af major; thus, the
progressive design moves from F minor to Af major. It is apparent that Hiller intended this
progressive design as the crux of the Finale. The rondo heavily emphasizes F minor, despite the
structural close in Af major (Fig. 2.8). These two tonal areas are conflated in such a way that it is
difficult to determine the middleground and background structures. One reading is that Hiller
intended some type of expanded tonic object that encompasses both F minor and Af major. This
dissertation is focused on three-dimensional musical objects that are constructed from major
34
third relationships, but it is possible that a different species could instead be derived from minor
thirds. In Figure 2.8 I show that the background structure of the initial Af tonic is directly
connected to the background structure of F minor that begins in m. 120 and is later confirmed as
a background Stufe in m. 150. The F major chord that arrives in m. 120 might be better
understood as V of Bf minor that directly precedes it in m. 118; in fact, a prolongation of Bf
minor in mm. 118-131, where the primary theme returns in Af major, is quite logical. Ultimately,
I have chosen to privilege the prolongation of F because of the significant cadential arrival in m.
150.
Moving forward, the structural upper voice, C, is reinterpreted from 3 of Af to 5 of F. A
background 5-line descent begins in F minor in m. 202, although the 5-4-3 could easily be
understood as 3-2-1 of Af major; the two Ursätze are synthesized together. I show F minor as the
operative harmony because the music is headed toward a structural interruption on V of F in m.
255. In other words, the background structure actually shifts from an Af orientation to F. If Af
and F can indeed be understood as two parts of a deeper, multidimensional tonic object, then
mm. 1-255 can be reconciled as the first half of a divided structure (I-V||). After, the primary
theme and Af major return in m. 270 and the structural close is achieved in m. 289. The parallel
structures between Af and F are certainly an allusion to the I-III sonata design in the first
movement, which further corroborates the meta-design of this concerto.
35
Figure 2.8: Middleground of Hiller’s Piano Concerto No. 1, Finale
36
CHAPTER 3
JUSTIFYING THE MULTIDIMENSIONAL MODEL
3.1 Justification for a Three-Dimensional Tonic Object
Before I begin the step-by-step, detailed discussion of the first movement of Mahler’s
Seventh Symphony, I present my rationale for employing the three-dimensional tonic object in
my analysis of Mahler’s Seventh Symphony; e.g., why I read E minor and C major in the
exposition of the first movement as all tonic space. Traditional tonal practice would regard this
progression as moving from tonic to submediant (I-VI), considering I and VI different chords
with different harmonic functions. In the context of the first movement alone, that assessment
would be appropriate. However, given that the first movement is just a single part of a larger
tonal edifice, it is necessary to consider it within a holistic context since Mahler created a
structure that contradicts the expected confirmation of a single tonic by the outer movements. To
produce an accurate reading of the first movement, we must determine the ultimate role of E
minor within the entire symphonic plan.
My initial hypothesis is that there must be some significant relationship between the first
and last movements. As discussed at the end of the Chapter 1, unification of key is paramount for
suites: an early multi-movement structure. My presumption is that key unification remains an
important element for later multi-movement structures, such as the symphony. For example, the
overwhelming majority of Joseph Haydn’s symphonies begin and end in the same key, with
some exceptions only when there is change of mode from the first to last movement; e.g.,
Symphony No. 45 begins in Fs minor and ends in Fs major. Mahler’s symphonic output, on the
other hand, seems to belie this tradition. 45 In my estimation, there are two ways to approach
45
Symphony No. 2 begins in C minor and ends in Ef major; Symphony No. 4 begins in G major and ends in E
major; Symphony No. 5 begins in Cs minor and ends in D major; Symphony No. 7 begins in B minor, moves to E
37
these progressive symphonies: that Mahler has abandoned the ideals of symphonic unity or that
Mahler is employing new methods of unification.
I take the latter explanation as the impetus for my analysis, that the E minor tonic in the
first movement and the C major tonic in the last movement are both different aspects of the same
three-dimensional tonic object. Both chords fulfill the role of tonic in their respective
movements, yet traditional tonal practice dictates that one must, by default, be subservient to the
other. The logical choice would privilege C major since it is the tonic of the Finale, the goal
towards which the entire symphony moves; considered in isolation, the tonic of the Finale is
undoubtedly C major. However, we must reconcile its relationship with the E minor tonic of the
first movement; is it merely a large-scale III-I progression? That is a potential reading, but one
that I find to be unsatisfactory, if not completely unconvincing, because Mahler is at such pains
to intricately connect E and C tonal areas in both outer movements. This interconnection of two
putatively separate tonal centers suggests that they operate as a unity such that the appearance of
a III-I progression is something of an illusion.
The clearest evidence for a functional equivalence between E minor and C major – and
indeed the entire three-dimensional tonic object – is found in the Finale. The first 78 measures
encompass a motion from E minor (mm. 1-6) to C major (mm. 7-51), and finally to Af major
(mm. 51-78). In this way, Mahler presents in direct succession all three primary members (E, C,
and Af) of the three-dimensional tonic object. Furthermore, embedded in the first cadence in C
major is a nested cadence in E major (Fig. 3.1). That E major and C major share a cadential
space here is a further indication of their intimate relationship. Also telling is the way in which
Af major arrives. In the middle of m. 51, Af major suddenly interjects into the C major chord
minor, and then ends in C major; Symphony No. 9 begins in D major and ends in Df major.
38
(Fig. 3.2). The brief overlap of these two sonorities is a jolting experience, but is symptomatic of
a three-dimensional musical object that abruptly rotates at the musical surface. Mahler revisits
this moment in the penultimate measure of the Finale, although slightly altered. In this case, C
major is interrupted by an augmented triad – which contains the three primary members of the
three-dimensional tonic object, namely C-E-Gs; additionally, this interjecting sonority arrives on
beat one of m. 589, instead of in the middle of a measure (Fig. 3.3). The downbeat placement of
this augmented triad in the penultimate measure is a powerful foreground manifestation of the
tonic object, and it aligns well with Laufer’s thoughts concerning the primary sonority and its
tendency to arrive at the end of a piece. Its arrival is marked by a sudden change in texture and
dynamic shift, and this rhetorical effect alerts us to the importance of this chord. Since the tonic
object represents the most fundamental element in the Seventh Symphony, Mahler situates it
here at the end of the work with as much finality as is possible for an augmented triad – the
chord stabilizing on the C major triad only in the final measure.
Prior to the end of the Finale, Mahler includes another important signal that E and C, as
tonal centers, are interchangeable with both functioning as “tonic.” In mm. 573-576, the primary
theme from the Finale (theme I), originally stated in C major, is presented in E major; then, in
mm. 581-585, the primary theme from the first movement, originally stated in E minor, is
presented in C major. That the two primary themes of the Seventh rotate between these two tonal
centers is a further indication of a harmonic-functional equivalence between them. Shortly
thereafter, as already observed, C and E are joined by Gs in the penultimate measure to complete
the three-dimensional tonic object.
39
Figure 3.1: E major cadence embedded in C major cadence in Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, Finale,
mm. 13-15 46
Figure 3.2: Interjection of Af major into C major in Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, Finale, mm. 51-
52
46
All examples shown in concert pitch.
40
Figure 3.3: Emergence of C augmented triad in Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, Finale, mm. 588-590
The third primary member of the three-dimensional tonic object, Af, makes another
significant appearance in the first movement in mm. 27-30 (introduction). This passage in Af is
significant because Mahler brings back the same material in m. 495, but in E minor, during the
recapitulation – in fact, m. 495 is often read as the structural close. 47 Thus, to understand the role
of E minor in m. 495, we must consider the function of Af minor in the introduction since
Mahler presents them in the same way.
3.2 Enharmonicism and the Augmented Triad
In my model, enharmonic pitches are often equivalent. For example, Af and Gs can both
be representative of the three-dimensional tonic object in Mahler’s Seventh Symphony. The
manifestation of Af or Gs is usually due to foreground circumstances (e.g., clearer voice
leading). Mahler often employs the flat side or the sharp side depending on the immediate
47
See John Williamson, “Mahler and Episodic Structure: The First Movement of the Seventh Symphony,” in The
Seventh Symphony of Gustav Mahler: A Symposium, ed. James L. Zychowicz (Madison, WI: A – R Editions, 1990)
46; Henry – Louis de La Grange also locates the beginning of the coda at m. 495, Gustav Mahler, Volume 3:
Vienna: Triumph and Disillusion (1904–1907) (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995), 856.
41
context. In the introduction to the first movement, Mahler arrives in Af minor in m. 27; however,
Af is a passing tone to a Gf 7th chord, and this chord means the dominant seventh of the B minor
tonality; in other words, it should really be understood as an Fs 7th with a raised fifth (Fig. 3.4).
That Mahler notates the previous passage in Af minor and not Gs minor is because it is
immediately preceded by a passage in Ef major; thus Af is more appropriate for that
circumstance.
Figure 3.4: Middleground of Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 1-31
Often Mahler even superimposes enharmonic pitches, which, in my estimation, further
validates my hypothesis regarding enharmonic equivalency in this piece. During the introduction
of the first movement, a march theme is introduced in m. 19. Flutes 1 and 2 have the melody B-
As-Gs, Ds-Cs-B; violins II have the same melody, but it is written as B-Bf-Af, Ef-Cs-B (Fig.
3.5). Neither instrument group has music in the previous measure that would justify alternative
enharmonics for voice-leading purposes. Throughout the march theme there are contradictory
42
enharmonics between simultaneous lines, although all instruments finally coalesce in Ef major at
m. 25. Since ease of reading does not appear to be the impetus for this conflation of enharmonic
notation, Mahler’s motivation here is likely to underscore the fluidity between the otherwise
disparate tonal regions of Af and Gs (and their implied functions in relation to the tonic).
Figure 3.5: Superimposition of Af and Gs enharmonics in Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first

movement, mm. 19-20
The power of enharmonics is most notable with augmented triads. That augmented triads
can suggest several enharmonic spellings at once is what allows Mahler to quickly traverse the
harmonic landscape (by means of “the wormhole effect” as discussed at the end of Chapter 2).
Mahler fully exploits this potential in the Seventh, in that the kinship between E-Gs-Bs, C-E-Gs,
and Af-C-E (and even Gs-Bs-D∗) is synthesized into a single harmony: the three-dimensional
tonic object. The multiple harmonic possibilities of the augmented triad were well understood in
Mahler’s time, as is documented by the treatises on harmony of the day. In his Theory of
Harmony (dedicated “to the hallowed memory of Gustav Mahler”), Schoenberg discusses the
augmented triad at length. At an important point in his discussion, he states that “the augmented
triad is by virtue of its constitution, as indicated by its belonging to three keys, a vagrant chord
like the diminished seventh.” 48 He goes on:
48
Arnold Schoenberg, Theory of Harmony, trans. Roy E. Carter (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1978),
243.
43
Since in the resolutions to the major chords (III-VI of minor) the roots make the leap of a
fourth, it is evident that they augmented triads may be used to produce [resolve to] a
tonic, and that, to this end, they may be introduced artificially on the V of the major key
in question, following the idea of the secondary dominants. They are most simply
introduced through chromatic alteration upward of the fifth.
…With the augmented triad it is not necessary to make a distinction between root
position and inversions. It is indeed almost always reinterpreted, and, that being the case,
the feeling of a six-four chord can hardly ever arise. To avoid complicated notation one
will often use enharmonic change.…
That the augmented triad resolves by the strong progression, the root progression a fourth
upward, to a major key, even when it was derived from the minor key of the same name,
favors its use for connection of major and minor. 49
To clarify, Schoenberg originally derives the augmented triad from harmonic minor, and
specifically on the mediant chord (a). Since III-VI is a resolution, then so too is III+-VI (b). From
there, Schoenberg simply substitutes the augmented triad into the role of the dominant in any
context, be it the major or minor mode (c) (Fig. 3.6).
Figure 3.6: Augmented triads as dominants, derived by Schoenberg in Theory of Harmony
Further, here we find several indications that the augmented triad is flexible in its spelling, its
point of resolution, and its implication of major and minor. Additionally, Schoenberg’s
placement of his discussion of the augmented triad in the chapter “At the Frontiers of Tonality”
further suggests its potential for innovation within the tonal system. My model pushes the
49
Schoenberg, Theory of Harmony, 242–244.
44
augmented triad from only a dominant function into the realm of other functions, such as tonic
and subdominant.
3.3 The Three-Dimensional Dominant Object as Binding Element
As further evidence that E minor and C major are two sides of the same three-
dimensional tonic object, let us examine more closely the relationship between the E minor first
group and the C major second group in the exposition of the first movement. The initial clue that
these two keys share the same tonic-functional role is the shared three-dimensional dominant
object that binds them. A B pedal is prolonged in mm. 104-117, and within the context of an E
minor first movement one might assume a simple V of E that resolves deceptively to VI (C
major) in m. 118. However, the harmonic goal of this B pedal is the augmented triad in mm. 114-
117 (Fig. 3.7), which is most prominent in the trombones and bassoons (G-B-Ds). While this
chord could be understood as an altered dominant of E minor (i.e., B-Ds-F∗), I believe Mahler
deliberately conflates the dominant space of E minor (B-Ds-[Fs]) with the dominant space of C
major (G-B-[D]). The conflation of these two dominants is further emphasized in m. 114 in
which the second violins play the line Fs-G-B and the first violins play the line D-Ds against the
augmented triad in the bassoons and trombones (the same melodic lines are repeated in m. 117 in
the violas and first violins). Whereas the augmented triad suggests the conflation of both
dominants, here there is a literal conflation of all five distinct pitches (B-Ds-Fs and G-B-D).
Mahler’s explicit insertion of the three-dimensional dominant object between E minor and C
major supports the hypothesis that both keys are simply different sides of the same three-
dimensional tonic object.
45
Figure 3.7: Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 114-117
The augmented dominant, comprising the primary members of the three-dimensional
dominant object, is composed out in both the introduction and the putative development section.
In the introduction, the middleground prolongs the succession of harmonies B minor - G major -
Ef major in mm. 1-25 (Fig. 3.4). B minor has its own lengthy phrase (mm. 1-18), but G major
and Ef major share an antecedent (mm. 19-22) and consequent (mm. 23-27) period. Measures
19-22 present a G major half cadence; the following phrase begins as though it will continue G
major, but the harmony rotates towards an Ef major authentic cadence (although it resolves
deceptively to iv (Af minor) in m. 27).
A similar, but more expanded, composing out of the three-dimensional dominant object
occurs throughout the development section: B (m. 145) - G (m. 228) - Ef (m. 258). This double
unfolding of the dominant then moves to V/V in m. 315 and then to the emergence of the real
second group in B major in m. 317 (Fig. 3.8). The arrival on B major is a climactic goal of the
first movement. However, the B major second group is interrupted and broken off in m. 337;
what follows is a reprise of the introductory material (m. 338) and the recapitulation (mm.
46
394ff.). The second group is then recapitulated in m. 465, but now in G major and quickly
cadences in m. 468. In this reading, the B major second group is the antecedent to the G major
second group which functions as its consequent phrase. That Mahler reprises the second group in
B major and G major, the respective dominants of E minor and C major, seems an especially
telling indicator that these harmonic spaces are intimately connected. Mahler is certainly alluding
to the I-VI progression that can be found in the sonata expositions of Beethoven and Schubert,
but here the modulation is only apparent (mm. 50-118). The real harmonic progression is at a
deeper level and later in the movement, namely from the tonic object (E minor and C major) to
the dominant object (B major and G major).
Figure 3.8: Deep middleground in Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 145-468
3.4 Sonata Form and the Identity Narrative
First movements of symphonies are usually defined by their employment of, and
47
interaction with, sonata form. The first movement of Mahler’s Seventh is no exception, and in
fact Mahler’s manipulation of sonata form is of paramount importance for the analysis to be
presented here. Before delving into the specifics of Mahler’s dialogue with sonata form, it is
perhaps best to provide a cursory discussion of the form, its devices, and my own analytical
terminology. A great deal of information regarding sonata form, its variants, deformations, and
numerous categories can be found in James Hepokoski and Warren Darcy’s Elements of Sonata
Theory; still, there is much to discuss because the form as a structural mold is highly malleable. 50
However, more central to my own focus is Schenker’s conception: “Only the prolongation of a
division (interruption) gives rise to sonata form.” 51 And while Schenker did struggle to reconcile
the inherent contradiction between an undivided background and a formal process that requires
division, 52 his assertion that the real agency of sonata form lies in harmonic motion and not
thematic groups is what I find most compelling. Schenker states that “the second theme, the
subordinate theme, the lyrical theme, or the like… are in every respect inadequate terms and
concepts which afford no insight into sonata form.” 53 However, current analytical approaches to
sonata form often privilege the thematic elements at the neglect of the harmonic foundation. It is
necessary to engage all dimensions of the sonata process before a comprehensive reading can be
attained.
My own three-fold summary of sonata form is informed by the types of major harmonic
events with which Schenker grappled: (1) the tonic is established; (2) an opposing harmony then
emerges and challenges the tonic’s hierarchical status; and (3) the tonic reestablishes its control.
50
James Hepokoski and Warren Darcy, Elements of Sonata Theory: Norms, Types, and Deformations in the Late –
Eighteenth – Century Sonata (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006).
51
52
Peter H. Smith, “Brahms and Schenker: A Mutual Response to Sonata Form,” Music Theory Spectrum 16, no. 1
(Spring 1994): 77–103.
53
48
Ideally for the tonic, the composition would be a space that allows the tonic to express itself fully
and wield complete harmonic authority. But because the tonic is challenged by a competing
harmony it necessarily needs some device through which it can reassert itself. One such device is
the key feature of sonata form according to Schenker: the interruption, which provides the tonic
an opportunity to restore its identity as the controlling sonority.
With the “identity metaphor,” I supplement the conceptualization of sonata form with
three identity-narrative events: identity schism, identity crisis, and identity reclamation. This
identity narrative can help one to discern in a Schenkerian analysis the real background structure
from those events that are better read at the middleground level. Additionally, it can help to
explain when specific manipulations, or unusual procedures, occur in sonata form; in terms of
my identity narrative, those manipulations can include the delay or exclusion of certain events.
At least in major mode sonatas, the most typical harmony to oppose the tonic in the
exposition is the dominant. In a minor mode sonata that role can be fulfilled by the major
mediant (III) or, less commonly, the minor dominant (v); another harmonic option that
developed later in the eighteenth century, and particularly in the nineteenth, is the major
submediant (VI). 54 The identity schism is the point at which this oppositional harmony initiates
a separation from the tonic and begins the process to assert itself as tonic; as shown below, this
identity event often does not correlate with the second theme or the expositional “caesura.” 55 I
have chosen the term “identity schism” because this event represents the initial rift in the
fundamental harmony – the point at which the tonic begins to lose control. The schism begins to
allow the opposing harmony the opportunity to be on the same level as the tonic and to threaten
54
Two examples are discussed below. This model is particularly relevant for Mahler’s Seventh since the putative
exposition moves from E minor to C major; this harmonic progression, and what it means in the Seventh, will be
further discussed in chapter 4.
55
Hepokoski and Darcy, Elements of Sonata Theory, 18.
49
its structural priority. While the schism does not yet establish the opposing harmony as a real
Stufe, it does lead to the necessary 2-1 descent in the upper voice with the supporting V-I
progression in the new key. Once this new key area is confirmed through a cadential arrival it
initiates the identity crisis; this identity event is marked by a time in which the normative
relationships and hierarchy are upset, challenged, or, at the very least, obscured. There is a
fundamental and important distinction between this event – i.e., the identity crisis – and what
Hepokoski and Darcy call the essential expositional closure (EEC) in that in my model the
cadence signaling the identity crisis can occur before or after the second theme. Therefore, my
concept of the identity crisis is more analogous to the Kochian Quintcadenz or Terzcadenz (a V-I
cadence that confirms the arrival of V or III as opposing harmony), which is the final
punctuation of the Hauptperiode (first main period). Heinrich Christoph Koch’s eighteenth-
century conception of what would later be known as “sonata form” (coined ca. 1840 by Carl
Czerny and A. B. Marx) was centrally concerned with the hierarchy of cadences rather than
thematic groups. 56 One scenario for the culmination of the identity crisis is the moment of
structural interruption on the dominant (2/V||). 57 This dominant, whether the opposing key in the
exposition is V or not, represents the tonal subversion because it refuses to resolve directly to 1/I.
I refer to this dominant at the interruption as the dominant of opposition. (Although it will
usually coincide with the Schenkerian interrupting dominant, I want to distinguish situations in
which the dominant of opposition does cadence to the tonic and produces a “failed”
recapitulation.) At this point, the tonic must reassert itself as 3/I, revisit the thematic material,
and establish the structural close (1/I) – the process of identity reclamation. Once again, this final
56
For a discussion on Kochian terminology, see Veijo Murtomäki and Timothy L. Jackson, “‛Punctuation Form’
and Expressive Contents in the First Main Period of Selected G Minor Symphonie’s First Movements of the
Classical Era—Kochian – Schenkerian Approaches,” Journal of Schenkerian Studies 11 (2018): 51–110.
57
Another possible scenario, in which there is no interruption, is discussed below regarding Beethoven’s Ninth.
50
cadence may or may not align with what Hepokoski and Darcy call the essential structural
closure (ESC). Each employment of sonata form can be evaluated through this identity narrative
by locating the specific events and their placements relative to the exposition, development, and
recapitulation spaces.
To elucidate the discussion of the identity narrative, I explore two first movements from
Haydn’s London Symphonies – one major and one minor. The first is Symphony No. 93 in D
major (1791); a middleground sketch is provided in Figure 3.9. As expected for a major-mode
sonata, the oppositional harmony is the dominant. Most significant for this example, however, is
that the identity schism and crisis both occur before the second thematic group begins. The
trajectory towards the tonicization of A major begins in m. 60 where D is converted into D-sharp
as a chromatic passing-tone to E; as a result, the progression is retrospectively understood as IV-
sIV-V of A. An Anstieg in the upper voice likewise marks the drive towards A major. The 3 of A
that arrives in m. 66, along with A in the bass, signals the identity schism. At this point, A major
threatens to abandon its role as dominant and become its own tonic. That goal is achieved in m.
74 with a cadential confirmation of A major. 58 With this arrival, A is now considered a real Stufe
on the same level as the opening tonic. In Figure 3.9, I differentiate the statuses of the A in m. 66
and the A in m. 74 with different stem lengths. From mm. 74-185, the identity crisis ensues with
A, and not D, operating as the background Stufe. The dominant of opposition (VOpp.) is
prolonged to the end of the development at m. 185. As a result of the interruption, the tonic is
able to begin again. However, the tonic’s status as a real Stufe is not yet regained; it must
traverse the material that was originally subverted by the dominant and reclaim it. In mm. 204-
58
Hepokoski and Darcy would qualify this arrival as a V:PAC MC—a third – level default option. That this V:PAC
does not coincide with the EEC is not consequential for their model. They acknowledge that, from a Schenkerian
perspective, the interpretation of the definitive arrival of the dominant (ZPAC) is often at the discretion of the
analyst, and that their concern with the placement of the EEC is more rhetorical than structural. See Elements of
Sonata Theory, 27, 147–149.
51
205 the progression IV-sIV-V is reprised, but this time under the tonic’s control. The cadence in
m. 218, which correlates with the cadence in m. 74, returns the tonic to the background structure.
Finally, the recapitulation of the second group allows the tonic to confirm its status as a Stufe
with a background cadence in m. 242, which signals the identity reclamation event.
My second Haydn example is provided by Symphony No. 95 in C minor (1791); a
middleground sketch is offered in Figure 3.10. Here the oppositional harmony is the major
mediant (III) and the identity schism begins in m. 16. The identity crisis is delayed due to an
interruption on V of Ef that is prolonged in mm. 21-28; measure 28 is where Hepokoski and
Darcy would mark the “caesura.” 3 of III returns in m. 29 and initiates the second thematic
group. Shortly after, Ef is cadentially confirmed as a real Stufe in m. 36 and finally signals the
identity crisis. The development section drives toward the dominant of opposition; this transition
to VOpp. is achieved through a transformation of III into an augmented-sixth chord (VI of V) in
mm. 98-103. V, as a Stufe, arrives in m. 113 and is prolonged into the reprise of the first thematic
group. This reading is feasible in that the reprise of the first group is not supported by a strong
root-position tonic, as it is at the beginning of the movement. As a result, the C minor that begins
in m. 120 is understood as a 6/4 upper-neighbor prolongation of the dominant of opposition. I
read an interruption at the end of m. 128 because 3 of C is picked up by the bassoons in m. 129
along with the key change to C major. As in Symphony No. 93, the tonic’s reclamation occurs in
the recapitulation of the second thematic group.
52
Figure 3.9: Middleground of Haydn’s Symphony No. 93 in D major, first movement
53
Figure 3.10: Middleground of Haydn’s Symphony No. 95 in C minor, first movement
54
These Haydn symphonies provide eloquent examples of two main types of oppositional-
harmony designs that are found in sonata form: I-V and I-III. I now explore the I-VI design in
two other symphonies: Schubert’s “Unfinished” (1822) and Beethoven’s Ninth (1822-1824).
These examples are especially relevant to our discussion because Mahler’s Seventh employs the
I-VI design and the music of both Beethoven and Schubert was highly influential on Mahler as a
composer. On these influences, Alfredo Casella observes:
A further characteristic of Mahler’s art, which one notices at once, and whose effect is
certainly no less captivating, is the pure goodness of this music. Through it Mahler can
reach the most secret chord of our heart and often approaches Beethoven…. But there is
also another musician whom he approaches in the same degree: Schubert. Of the latter we
are reminded by the melodic invention, the melancholy grace of the many Ländler which
run through his works, and finally by the touching naïveté of certain melodies. Beethoven
and Schubert are Mahler’s two true teachers. 59
Mahler was very familiar with the works of these two composers and conducted the two
aforementioned symphonies on many occasions. 60 He made orchestral revisions to Beethoven’s
Ninth, although that practice was customary for Mahler’s time. 61 There is some evidence that
Mahler made similar revisions to Schubert’s “Unfinished”; he certainly made a number of
revisions to Schubert’s Ninth, as well as several suggested cuts in the first and last movements. 62
We can infer that Mahler’s intimate knowledge of these symphonies may have influenced his
own compositional choices, particularly in how to approach a I-VI sonata.
The I-VI design offers different possibilities – and also poses a new set of challenges – for the
analyst. Indeed, I posit two interpretations of Schubert’s “Unfinished” that are vastly different
59
Alfred [sic] Casella, “Gustav Mahler et sa deuxième symphonie,” S.I.M., Revue musicale mensuelle VI, no. 4
(April 1910): 240–241, translated and quoted in Kurt Blaukopf and Herta Blaukopf, Mahler: His Life, Work and
World (New York: Thames & Hudson Inc., 1991), 233.
60
Mahler conducted twelve performances of Beethoven’s Ninth and eight performances of Schubert’s “Unfinished”;
Henry – Louis de La Grange, Gustav Mahler, Volume 4: A New Life Cut Short (1907–1911) (New York: Oxford
University Press, 2008), 1593, 1607.
61
La Grange, Gustav Mahler, vol. 4, 390–394, 1534–1537.
62
La Grange, Gustav Mahler, vol. 4, 1538.
55
from one another. The first could be considered a “common sense” reading – the result of a
“traditional” Schenkerian analysis. As seen in Figure 3.11, the Stufen progression throughout the
exposition and development is I-VI-IV-V. In this reading, G major (VI) is taken as the
oppositional harmony and progresses toward the dominant of opposition that arrives at the end of
the development in m. 202 (after a lengthy prolongation of IV). David Beach likewise reads the
basic progression as I-VI-IV-V; however, Beach’s analysis differs in that he does not read an
interruption at the end of the development section as I show in Figure 3.11. 63 Beach notes that
Schubert “devoted the entire development section to the [introduction] motto theme” and, as a
result, leads naturally into the recapitulation of the first group. He also reads that the Kopfton (3)
does not emerge until the recapitulation of the second group, although it is supported by D major
(III); therefore, an undivided structure is required. 64 Measure 218 presents the “double return” of
the first thematic group and B minor, but the recomposition process alters the musical path in
that the reprisal of the second thematic group is in the key of D major (III). The end of the
second group is likewise recomposed so that it ends up on V7 in m. 279. A lower level
interruption occurs and this V7 is understood as a back-relating dominant. After a measure of
rest, the music returns on E minor (IV) in m. 281 – a recapitulation of the expositional material
that begins in m. 63. The dominant Stufe arrives in m. 303, but as a 6/4; most importantly, the 6
is raised so that we have Ds (s3 of B major). B major is confirmed in m. 311, which coincides
with the final G major cadence of the exposition in m. 93. However, the apotheosis is short lived
and B minor resumes in mm. 328ff. of the coda.
63
David Beach, “Schubert’s ‘Unfinished’ Symphony: Analytical Observations,” in Explorations in Schenkerian
Analysis, ed. David Beach and Su Yin Mak, 99–122 (Rochester, NY: University of Rochester Press, 2016), 111.
64
Beach, “Schubert’s ‘Unfinished’ Symphony,” 107.
56
Figure 3.11: “Common sense” middleground of Schubert’s “Unfinished,” first movement
57
Another, quite different reading of Schubert’s “Unfinished” is presented in Figure 3.12.
Of the two interpretations, I prefer the second, which I shall designate my own reading. The first
significant difference is the interpretation of G major, which is not presented as the oppositional
harmony in this reading. My decision not to consider G major as a background Stufe is largely
due to the return of B minor at the very end of the exposition, which begins as a unison B on beat
two in m. 105 and unfolds to a full B minor triad in m. 108. Therefore, as shown in Figure 3.12,
the G major section is reduced into a 5-6-5 motion (Fs-G-Fs) above the tonic. Rather than act as
an oppositional harmony, then, G major is a harmonic ally that serves to prolong the tonic rather
than deviate from it. In other words, in this reading I show that the exposition remains entirely
under the tonic’s control. Here I take the dominant as the oppositional harmony, arguing that the
identity schism occurs much later in the form, namely in m. 202, i.e., at nearly the end of the
development. As in Beach’s reading, in my analytical model there is no interruption at the end of
the development. To my ears, there is an undivided transition into the recapitulation of the first
group in m. 218. The more controversial aspect of my reading, though, is that I do not take the B
minor in m. 218 as a return of the tonic, but rather consider it an apparent tonic caught within a
prolongation of the oppositional dominant harmony. The main evidence for this interpretation is
that the final cadence for the recapitulation of the first group in m. 252 is on Fs and not B. In the
previous reading, the Fs arrival is m. 252 is severely downgraded as the upper third of the
following D major. But this arrival is far more significant in my estimation and signals a
heightened moment in the identity narrative of this sonata because territory that was previously
under the control of the tonic (mm. 9-38 of the exposition) is seized by an oppositional harmony.
In the two Haydn examples, the oppositional harmony is established with new material – either
the second group or the transition to the second group.
58
Figure 3.12: Alternative middleground of Schubert’s “Unfinished,” first movement
59
Schubert amplifies the drama by placing the identity schism and crisis around first group
material and delaying the latter event into the recapitulation. As in the exposition, the
recapitulation of the second group serves to prolong the operative background Stufe rather than
deviate from it; D major functions as a 5-6-5 (Cs-D-Cs) upper-neighbor elaboration of the
dominant harmony. Unlike Beach, I do ultimately read an interruption in m. 279 – albeit much
later than in the “common sense” reading. The dramatic measure of rest naturally suggests this
reading, although on which level the interruption occurs is debatable. Measures 281ff. are
comparable to the “common sense” reading except that, because the tonic is not picked back up,
the cadence on B major in m. 311 is auxiliary. This divided structure is unusual, but I believe it is
a consequence of the delayed identity-narrative events.
This interpretation is bolstered by the following consideration: that Schubert suggests a
type of unity between the major-third pairs of B-G and Fs-D. The two-bar bass ostinato pattern
that begins in m. 9 is the first indication. It is largely a repetition of B, but on the last eighth note
of the second measure it drops to G; this pitch choice seems odd at first: Fs would be the more
logical candidate as the upper fifth. A second indication of this pairing occurs on the first
cadence in m. 20. This cadence is comprised of two events: 1) a perceived arrival on D (I-IV-V-
I, mm. 17-20), and 2) a half cadence in the tonic key (beat two of m. 20). The effect is a
simultaneous arrival on both D and Fs. A traditional reading would surely privilege the half
cadence as more structurally significant, but I posit that Schubert’s conflation of D and Fs into
this arrival is an important clue for the structure of this movement. In the first phrase of the first
group, Schubert pairs B and G in the tonic function and Fs and D in the dominant function.
Another pairing of Fs and D occurs at the end of the development in mm. 202-209. Similar to the
arrival in m. 20, here there is a cadence on D major (m. 204) and a sudden shift to Fs major (m.
60
205). These events suggest to me that the major third pairs of B-G and Fs-D are used to prolong
the same function (tonic and dominant, respectively) rather than present four different
background Stufen. 65 Therefore, my reading (Fig. 3.12) more accurately represents the symbiotic
relationship of the major-third pairs.
All sonata forms previously examined have employed the divided structure as codified by
Schenker. Through the interruption the identity narrative is able to progress towards the final
event: the identity reclamation. However, sonata form can have an undivided structure, and in
these circumstances some other device apart from the interruption can enable the identity-
reclamation process. In his dissertation, Benjamin Graf presents a reading of the first movement
of Beethoven’s Ninth as an undivided structure. 66 The Stufen progression throughout the
exposition and development is I-VI-IV-V, just as in the “common sense” reading of Schubert’s
“Unfinished.” One would expect an interruption on this dominant at the end of the development,
but the reprise begins on a 6/3 D major chord in m. 301, and later corrected to a 6/3 D minor
chord in m. 315; the Fs, and later Fn, bass voice is accompanied by an upper-voice D. Graf
reconciles the first-inversion D major (and then D minor) chord at the start of the reprise as the
result of a massive voice exchange from the F/D at the beginning of the exposition (m. 17). This
compositional device ultimately has the same effect as an interruption in that it resets the
background structure and allows the tonic to reassert itself: everything caught within the voice
exchange is subsumed within a tonic prolongation. As for the identity narrative, we can still read
a schism (m. 80) and crisis (m. 150) when Bf major (VI) is confirmed; likewise, the drive toward
65
Richard Cohn has presented evidence for the significance of major – third relationships in the music of Schubert;
see Cohn, “As Wonderful as Star Clusters” and Audacious Euphony.
66
Benjamin Graf, “An Analytical Study of Paradox and Structural Dualism in the Music of Ludwig van Beethoven,”
(PhD diss., University of North Texas, 2016), 146–196,
https://digital.library.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metadc849697/m2/1/high_res_d/GRAF – DISSERTATION – 2016.pdf.
61
the dominant of opposition is apparent at the end of the development (m. 275ff.). However,
because the large-scale voice exchange of the tonic takes precedence in the background structure,
we must understand that the confirmation of an oppositional harmony as a real Stufe is only
illusory. In other words, the other harmonies (VI, IV, and V) do not operate at the background
level because the tonic never truly relinquishes control. Because of this circumstance, it is
apparent that the identity narrative does not necessarily correlate with the background structure.
Instead, it informs the analyst of potential background structures – sometimes the narrative is
only a middleground phenomenon.
The most important aspect of these Schubert and Beethoven examples is that they
probably provided Mahler with potential models for sonata form, and the I-VI design in
particular. In Figure 3.13 (a) and (b) I present my reading of the deep middleground of the first
movement from Mahler’s Seventh. My analysis presented here should be regarded as an
overview, with significant details to be discussed in subsequent chapters. The first group in E
minor and the second group in C major seem, at the surface level of perception, to be in two
different, contrasting keys. Indeed, Mahler appears to be following the model of a I-VI
modulation in the exposition. However, as I have suggested, these two putatively distinct keys
might be understood as just two different aspects of the same three-dimensional tonic object, so
that no deep-level modulation really occurs. This strategy is analogous to my alternative reading
of Schubert’s “Unfinished” (Fig. 3.12). Whereas in the Schubert example, VI is used to prolong
the tonic Stufe, here VI is a part of the tonic Stufe (marked as an unfolding in Figure 3.13(a). In
both cases, the real oppositional harmony is understood to arrive only later in the form, after the
exposition, and on the dominant. Mahler marks this delayed arrival of the oppositional dominant
by returning to the second group material at the end of the development in the dominant key of B
62
major (mm. 317-337). In my analysis, this B major section is the real second group; it belongs in
the exposition, but has been displaced by the rotation of the three-dimensional tonic object (E
minor to C major). When compared to the B major second group, the C major presentation of the
second group material in the exposition (mm. 118-144) feels harmonically static, incomplete,
and unfulfilling; its cadential confirmation is marred with the addition of an As (m. 141), which
transforms C major into an augmented sixth, leading to B as dominant. Thus, the C major section
is used to enhance the motion towards the dominant in m. 145. This is where I place the identity
schism and the remainder of the development articulates the Anstieg towards the Kopfton of the
new key (as in Haydn’s Symphony No. 93 [Fig. 3.9]).
Mahler further complicates the identity narrative in that he denies a cadential
confirmation of B major; instead, an interruption (2/V of V) occurs in m. 337. Had a perfect
cadence on B major supporting 1 in the top voice been achieved in m. 338, then this arrival
would mark the identity crisis. Instead, m. 338 reverts to the introductory material and the return
of the B minor + Gs sonority (although the Gs arrives one measure later and only in the first
double basses). In my reading, this Gs, and the one at the beginning of the introduction, operates
as part of the three-dimensional tonic object; for this movement, it is relegated to the upper voice
as s3 at the deepest level, although it often functions as f4 in the middleground.
A possibly contentious aspect of my reading is that the “double return” of the tonic and
opening theme in m. 394 is really an apparent return to the tonic. 67 In terms of the identity
narrative, then, the schism event is still ongoing since no new background (tonic) Stufe has been
confirmed. As a result, the E minor asserted in m. 394 is caught within the ongoing attempt to
establish the oppositional harmony, namely the dominant.
67
The “false” return to E minor in m. 373 is discussed in Chapter 4.
63
Figure 3.13: (a) Deep middleground of Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 1-410
64
(b) Deep middleground of Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 413-543
65
The recapitulation of the first group covers the same musical ground as in the exposition in that it
first cadences on E and then on B; but because the structural and narrative context is shifted for
the reprise, I have accorded structural weight to the B arrival (m. 410), while the putative tonic E
is reinterpreted as IV of V (m. 393).
I do not place the identity crisis at the B arrival in m. 410. Since the tonic had authority
over both groups in the exposition, the dominant must secure both groups in the recapitulation to
enact the identity crisis. This interpretation is similar to my reading of Haydn’s Symphony No.
93 (Fig. 3.9) in which the tonic first had to reclaim the material that was previously conceded to
the dominant in the exposition – its background authority is not immediately regained at the start
of the recapitulation. Here, in the Mahler example, the oppositional harmony must traverse both
groups in order to establish itself at the background level. The confirmation of the dominant for
the second group failed at the end of the development (m. 337), which necessitates the
recapitulation of the second group in G major (m. 466). G major, which operates as part of the
three-dimensional dominant object, is confirmed almost as soon as the second group begins (m.
468). It is here that I place the identity crisis and G as a background Stufe. From here, the music
progresses toward the dominant of opposition, which is achieved in m. 512. This dominant of
opposition should act like an interrupting dominant, but instead is forced to resolve for the
structural close and subsequently complicates the identity narrative. Why I do not read the E
minor in m. 495 as the structural close will be fully discussed in Chapter 4. Most important for
the current discussion is that the identity narrative is left incomplete in this first movement. The
reclamation event is not properly achieved because the structural close in m. 515 is corrupted by
the dominant of opposition that precedes it. This sonata form, like Beethoven’s Ninth, is
undivided. But unlike Beethoven’s Ninth, there is no background voice exchange that
66
retrospectively redeems the tonic. In Mahler’s Seventh, both the interruption (m. 337) and voice
exchange (mm. 486-512) devices are co-opted by the dominant. This design requires the
remainder of the symphony, particularly the Finale, to complete the identity narrative and
provide the tonic its reclamation event.
3.5 Function Entanglement
Like Mahler’s use of sonata form, the harmonic language of the Seventh requires a
nuanced understanding because of its use of the three-dimensional tonic object. There are several
sonorities throughout the symphony that present an analytical challenge, either because the
collection of pitches is unclear within a tonal context or because the significance of putative
seventh chords can easily be underestimated. For an example of the latter case, the opening
chord of the Seventh Symphony may be cited: in isolation, this chord is a Gs half-diminished
seventh in the first inversion; however, the key signature, the bass-voice B, and the confirmation
of B minor throughout the slow introduction indicate that this sonority is better understood as B
minor with an added Gs. I do not interpret this Gs as an added sixth or consider its inclusion
merely coloristic. Instead, I propose that the initial sonority signals the conflation of different
functional spaces: dominant and tonic. The dominant is represented by B minor (a part of the
three-dimensional dominant object) and the tonic is represented by a partial Gs minor triad (Gs-
B, a part of the three-dimensional tonic object). The implication of Gs minor superimposed upon
B minor is not immediately apparent at the outset of the introduction but is later confirmed by
the arrival of Af minor in m. 27. Thus, in hindsight, we can revalue the significance of the Gs in
the opening sonority; that Mahler is suggesting a conflation of dominant and tonic spaces – a
phenomenon that I call function entanglement.
67
Function entanglement occurs when two or more different functional spaces are
presented in a way in which the tonal hierarchy is obscured. For this discussion, function refers
to Tonic, Subdominant, and Dominant relationships. In the previous example, the global
functions of dominant and tonic are superimposed; that is, a conflation of primary members from
the three-dimensional dominant and tonic objects. But at the local level that relationship is
unclear, and, in fact, could be interpreted as inverted: B minor as three-dimensional tonic and Gs
as three-dimensional subdominant. I find this reading compelling because it foreshadows the
problematized sonata design employed in the first movement. The identity schism in the first
movement, which unfolds for most of the symphony, begins when the dominant separates from
the tonic (m. 145), but the event is delayed beyond the normal expositional space; due to the
altered narrative, the recapitulation is marked by a hierarchical inversion in which the putative
tonic (m. 393) is caught within a dominant prolongation, and is thus better understood as IV of
V. When different functional spaces are entangled, these inverted relationships become possible.
Mahler suggests these issues of entanglement through various sonorities that could be classified
as polychords, such as the B minor + Gs minor chord at the beginning of the symphony. There
are a few other prominent polychord-sonorities in the Seventh that fall into this category of
function entanglement. Each case is discussed in the analytical chapters to follow.
68
CHAPTER 4
FIRST MOVEMENT ANALYSIS
4.1 Introduction
The analysis of the first movement, as well for the Finale, primarily focuses on the
aspects most relevant to the three-dimensional tonic object of the Seventh Symphony, and its
corresponding dominant and subdominant objects (Fig. 4.1). One other object is possible (Fig.
4.2), but its function is more contextual in that it can be V/V or IV/IV. As a result, this three-
dimensional supertonic object acts like a link that connects all the objects into a circular model.
As with any new analytical approach there is the danger of attempting to connect all aspects of a
composition with that model, which can lead to weak or illogical conclusions. While my model
does not provide answers to all possible questions about Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, it can
facilitate significant insight into the fundamental ideas influencing the design of this complex
work, and impacting its form, harmony, counterpoint, and motivic elements.
Figure 4.1: Three-dimensional V, I, and IV objects
69
Figure 4.2: Three-dimensional supertonic object
There are several key points in the following analysis. First, the compositional problem
presented in the first movement is function entanglement between tonic and dominant; these two
harmonic spaces often collide and are superimposed in a way that challenges any single
viewpoint of the various structures. This problem manifests in a number of ways through the
movement and is indeed one of its most significant elements. Second, the harmonic spaces are
three-dimensional, namely the tonic and dominant. Third, the multidimensional tonic and
dominant objects and the issues of function entanglement distort the process of sonata form:
although a second group is presented in the exposition, the “real” second group does not arrive
until the end of the development section; the recapitulation presents an apparent tonic that is
caught within the dominant prolongation; the identity crisis does not occur until the
recapitulation of the second group in G major (part of the three-dimensional dominant object);
when the structural close is achieved late in the movement, it is corrupted by the dominant of
opposition and represents a “failed” recapitulation.
4.2 Introduction Analysis
Mahler suggests that the identity schism between tonic and dominant is problematic right
away with an introduction in B minor, which is dominant territory. As a result, the harmonic
70
progression from the introduction to E minor in the exposition can be read as V-I in the tonic or
I-IV in the dominant. However, the first sonority signals that the dominant space is precariously
unstable. The first inversion Gs half-diminished seventh, as discussed at the end of Chapter 3, is
best understood as a conflation of the global three-dimensional dominant (B minor) and tonic
(Gs minor) objects: or function entanglement. One implication of this function entanglement is
that the introduction has a significant role in the sonata design. The first narrative event is the
oppositional harmony’s separation from the tonic, but a different reading of the introduction is
that the tonic is attempting to separate from the oppositional harmony; that the symphony begins
outside of the tonic’s control. In other words, when the tonic arrives at the beginning of the
exposition in m. 50, we can understand it as extricated from the dominant and that it is a real
tonic; or the extrication could be illusory, and the E minor that begins the exposition might be
better understood as IV/V. This issue, the interpretation of the relationship between dominant
and tonic, is central to the structure of the first movement. There is nothing apparent about the
structural hierarchy when one considers the paradoxical nature of these harmonic relationships.
Certain analytical decisions must be made and I have chosen to read the introduction as
dominant and the exposition as tonic, but the obfuscation of this relationship seems deliberate by
Mahler and must be understood in order to grasp the consequences of the first movement.
Figure 4.3 provides a middleground assessment of the first phrase of the introduction,
mm. 1-18. One important feature is the descending-fourth progression (B-As-Gs-Fs, mm. 1-11).
Between As and Gs there is an ascending ninth in the bass, bifurcated by Ds in m. 9. The
harmony here is B major, but the bass continues to rise and on beat four the harmony has rotated
to G major – both chords are a part of the local three-dimensional tonic object. Globally, B major
and G major serve as an unfolded dominant of Gs. Here the Gs sonority in m. 10 is the same
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from m. 1 – Gs half-diminished seventh – but now in root position and no longer interpreted as a
B sonority. One consequence of function entanglement is the possibility of multiple
interpretations. Essentially, the roles are reversed since Gs now functions as local tonic and B is
subsumed into a dominant function. This paradox of function is further exaggerated by the
instability of the diminished Gs sonority, which does not logically fit the role of a tonic.
Figure 4.3: Section 1, B cadence from Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 1-18
In m. 11 the Fs in the bass marks the arrival of the local dominant, V of B. However,
there are a number of complications with this dominant, which once again foreshadows the
identity-schism problem that unfolds throughout the movement. Ironically, the sonority for the
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first half of the measure is the same Gs half-diminished seventh, but now in the third inversion.
Of course, with Fs in the bass the B and D are appropriately read as 6/4 suspensions held over
from the previous Gs chord in m. 10, and they do in fact resolve to As and Cs. Still, it seems
significant that Mahler continues to employ this set of pitch classes, each time with a different
meaning. The Gs, which occupies the highest voice, is more appropriately read as a passing tone
between the Fs in m. 10 and the As in m. 12. Thus, in my reading, the As in m. 12 belongs to the
Fs dominant in m. 11. I presented an analysis of this phrase in a paper in 2016 at the Indiana
University Annual Symposium of Research in Music, and William Rothstein suggested that a new
phrase begins in m. 12 after an interruption at the end of m. 11. He argued that the B minor chord
and the tenor horn melody signal a return to the local tonic and initiates a consequent phrase. At
the time I did not have a convincing rebuttal to justify my reading that the B minor is not a real
tonic and that it is instead caught within a dominant prolongation. I argued that the upper voice
continues to unfold a dominant harmony, beginning in m. 10 with Fs, to As in m. 12, and finally
to Cs as 2 in m. 14. However, it is now clear to me that Rothstein’s suggestion highlights the
phenomenon of function entanglement – that m. 12 exists in a conflation of (local) tonic and
dominant spaces. As a result, m. 12 can be read as either a dominant or tonic function: the
dominant continues to unfold toward the tonic arrival in m. 17, or the tonic arrives in m. 12 and
continues to unfold, as a codetta, to m. 17. B minor, although globally a part of the dominant
object, is locally entangled with its own dominant, which manifests as this B minor sonority
against its own As leading tone.
As a result of this function entanglement, the B minor cadence in mm. 15-17 is
grotesquely distorted. The bass and upper voices seem to disagree where the dominant-to-tonic
resolution occurs (Fig. 4.4). In m. 15 the bass and alto voices project a tonic function with B and
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Ds; the B is held as a pedal point and the Ds chromatically descends to B in m. 17. On the other
hand, the upper voices, comprised of the violins and high woodwinds, firmly declare a dominant
function in m. 15 as they arpeggiate from As down to Fs and then Cs. The violins concede to a
tonic resolution in m. 16, but the high woodwinds continue to prolong the dominant
arpeggiation, this time from As down to Fs and then Cn. Finally, in m. 17 every voice agrees on a
tonic function, but almost immediately the basses descend a fourth to Fs as if to signal once more
the entanglement between tonic and dominant. The high woodwinds likewise repeat the f2-1
resolution, echoed by the horns in the following measure.
Figure 4.4: B minor cadence in Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 15-19
Beginning in m. 19, Mahler introduces a new march theme for the next section (Fig. 4.5).
There are a number of interpretations that are possible in this section – mainly because of the
rotating three-dimensional musical object – but I disclose the various levels that unfold. At the
deepest level, this section continues the prolongation of the introduction’s local tonic: B minor.
However, at the outset of m. 19 the harmony has rotated to G major in the first inversion through
a 5-6 exchange. Directly following the G major chord is a harmonic progression (mm. 19-21)
that would be difficult to assess in the traditional tonal paradigm, but when considered within the
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three-dimensional musical object model this series of chords can be understood as the rotation of
a three-dimensional subdominant object. In other words, the Gs minor, E major, and C major
chords are three different sides of the local subdominant object. That these three chords all
prolong the same function is reflected in the underlying middleground counterpoint of a rising
third progression: III-IV-V (B-C-D). Gs minor does not have to be reconciled as some type of s1
sonority; E major is not an altered VI chord. In my model, they are both subsumed within the
three-dimensional subdominant object. What we hear with this rising third progression can best
be understood as a four-measure (mm. 19-22) antecedent phrase that interrupts (3-2||) on the V7
of G in m. 22.
Figure 4.5: Section 2, G major half cadence from Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement,
mm. 19-22
The march theme begins again in m. 23, but now on a root-position G major chord and at
a quicker pace (Fig. 4.6). Measure 24 signals another rotation with the unfolding a V7 of Ef
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sonority that crystallizes on beat four. Ef is then clearly stated in m. 25 with a local 3/I followed
by its own root-position 2/Vb9 on beat three. One would then expect a resolution to 1 of Ef, but in
m. 26 only the basses move to Ef – the other voices maintain the Vb9. Here we have another
instance of function entanglement that is reminiscent of what occurred in m. 15 at the B minor
cadence. 1 of Ef does appear in the following measure, but over an Af minor chord and with a
foreshadow of the exposition’s first theme. In a sense, this Ef major phrase is the consequent to
the previous G major half cadence, or G: 3-2||Ef: 3-2-1. They are different key areas, but two
parts of the local three-dimensional tonic object.
Figure 4.6: Section 2, Ef major ‘cadence’ from Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm.
23-27
The Af minor chord is accompanied by a key change, seemingly to indicate that it is a
new local tonic and that the Ef major chord is forced into a dominant role – an attempt to
disentangle the function spaces. However, it is the wrong key signature: six flats, not seven. Is
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this wrong key signature merely an oversight by Mahler? My speculation is that this key
signature is quite intentional, and that Mahler truly intended six flats to be read as Ef minor. The
reason is that the introduction is governed by the local tonic B minor, but B minor is only one
part of a three-dimensional musical object. Thus, Ef minor is simply a different side of the same
object; the key change does not indicate a new function space, but a prolongation of the same
function. Af minor is not tonic, but rather IV of Ef; in a deeper sense, Af is a part of the local
three-dimensional subdominant object. However, on the global scale of the symphony, Af is a
primary member of the three-dimensional tonic object. What Mahler presents here is a role
reversal for the identity-schism narrative event: normally it is the dominant that attempts to break
away from the tonic, but here the tonic is attempting to break away from the dominant. I
emphasize this moment because Mahler reprises this section, transposed down a major third, in
mm. 487-495, and the E minor that arrives in m. 495 is often read as the structural tonic close
(1/I). If the Af minor arrival in the introduction is an apparent tonic that is caught within its own
dominant, then the same arrival on E minor in the recapitulation may likewise be an apparent
tonic. In that case, m. 495 cannot be the structural close.
At the middleground level, this Af minor chord is a part of another descending fourth
progression that initiates from the B that is prolonged in mm. 1-19, to Bf in m. 25, to Af in m.
27, and finally to Gf in m. 31. I read the Bf in m. 25 as the governing bass voice for two reasons:
(1) the Ef chord at the beginning of m. 26 is a prolongation of the local three-dimensional tonic
object that, for this section, began on B in the bass in m. 19 – Ef can be understood as the upper-
third of B; and (2) the Vf9 of Ef chord is held over into m. 26 and directly precedes that Af minor
chord. The Ef in the bass in m. 26 can be understood as an anticipatory upper-fifth of the
following Af chord. A “traditional” Schenkerian reading would perhaps place more emphasis on
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this Ef in m. 26, or the Ef at the beginning of m. 25, as an applied dominant to the Af in m. 28,
but in my estimation Mahler only wants to suggest the illusion of a cadence and that this is why
most of the voices maintain the Bf dominant ninth chord. Since Bf is V of Ef, and Ef is a part of
the local three-dimensional tonic object, then at a deeper level Bf is also V of B. In fact, this
descending fourth progression is an enharmonic repetition of the descending fourth from the first
section (B-As-Gs-Fs, mm. 1-15), but with altered harmonies. The As chord in m. 7 is V of B: Fs-
As-Dn (C∗) – as an augmented triad we could say that it is an enhanced dominant 68 that could
potentially point to B, G, or Ef resolutions. In m. 25 it is altered into a Bf dominant – Fn
substitutes for Fs.
Figure 4.7: Gs half-diminished and Af minor chords
The Af minor chord in m. 27 is likewise similar to the Gs half-diminished sonority from
m. 10, but is now a more stable reflection of the global tonic as if to signal that the separation
between (global) tonic and dominant objects has begun (Fig. 4.7). Of course, the separation does
not yet occur because this Af chord serves only a passing-tone function between B and its
dominant (m. 31). Additionally, at the middleground level, the Ef in the upper voice can be
understood as the major 3 of B that comes from the Dn (minor 3) in m. 1. The deeper structure of
the first two sections is further connected in that the transferred Ursätzes of the B, G, and Ef
68
Here I am using Graeme Downes’ term “enhanced dominant” to invoke the augmented triad’s ability to resolve to
three different tonal areas; see Downes, “An Axial System of Tonality,” 18.
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phrases can be conceptualized as extensions of one another (Fig. 4.8) – the 1 of B becomes 3 of
G; and while the G phrase is interrupted and thus does not lead to 1, we can imagine the 3 of Ef
as a pseudo resolution for the G phrase. As a result, the upper voice is largely a descending
whole-tone scale apart from the initial Dn, which is ultimately corrected into Ds (Ef) in m. 27.
More importantly, Mahler is providing a structural blueprint for how a three-dimensional
musical object can be composed-out and that B, G, and Ef are all subsumed within the same
function. The dominant that arrives in m. 31 further marks the synthesis of B, G, and Ef into a
single function in that it consists of all three upper fifths (enharmonically): Fs, Dn, and Bf.
At the end of m. 31, all of the instruments that continue into m. 32 have a breath mark,
seemingly to indicate a division – a division not unlike the one found at the end of a development
section (2/V||). Although the V in m. 31 does not contain 2, it does have Dn which could be
interpreted as s2, or C∗. However, the upper voice moves from Ef to Ff, the 7th, or
enharmonically 4 (En), and resolves back to 3 in m. 32 – what Schenker would call a delay,
which only gives the illusion of an interruption. 69 Thus the middleground structure of the
introduction is still incomplete.
69
79
Figure 4.8: Middleground, Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 1-50
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The third and final section of the introduction (mm. 32-49) reprises the thematic material
from the first, along with the B minor + Gs sonority. Here the trajectory is less obscured and
moves quickly to II in m. 38 and V in m. 39 (Fig. 4.9). The V in m. 39 is initially an open fifth
(Fs and Cs), but its dominant function is unquestionably implied despite the missing As. In m.
42, the dominant becomes more contorted by multiple levels of function entanglement. The
basses maintain the Fs pedal, but the upper voices oscillate between E-G-B and Ds-Fs-B – the
flutes and first violins elaborate Cn as an upper neighbor to B. E, G, and B could be understood
as the 7th, 9th, and 11th of the V chord and the Ds and Fs could be understood as anticipations of
the coming I chord in m. 43, but I read these pitches as superimpositions of other functions – i.e.,
namely IV and I. Mahler never gives us a real V of B, but rather this conglomerate sonority of V
+ I + IV. Despite the strange dominant, 1 over B major solidly emerges in mm. 43-44 and signals
the end of the introduction.
A short codetta follows in mm. 45-49 marked by a fourths motif in the trumpets
(identified with slurs to show each trumpet). The trumpets enter one after another, each a fourth
higher than the previous: B, E, and A, respectively. In my reading (Fig. 4.9), the notes of these
fourths represent the paradigmatic circle-of-fifths harmonic progression: rising V-I-IV (B-E-A),
then descending IV-I-V (A-E-B). We can understand tonic (I) like a taut string that is at rest; if
we pull the string towards the dominant (V), it creates tension with potential energy; when
released, the string will return to the center, but only briefly because the now-kinetic energy
sends it towards the subdominant (IV). The subdominant mirrors the dominant in that its natural
tendency is to return to the tonic (Fig. 4.10). In m. 47, the first trumpet replicates this motion: A-
E-B, or IV-I-V. This pattern of harmonic frequency could conceivably go on for a long time, but
one would expect it eventually to come to rest back on tonic after all the energy is expended.
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Figure 4.9: Section 3 middleground and the ‘fourths’ motif from Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 32-49
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However, this expected pattern is suddenly interrupted by As (which seems to indicate a V/V
function) in m. 48, and whose presence now suggests B as tonic instead of E. In this moment, we
find a subtle implication of function entanglement between I and V (E and B), in that the
relationship is obscured – or perhaps even completely reversed to IV and I (E and B).
Figure 4.10: Harmonic frequency
The fourths motif slowly morphs the B major from m. 43 into a strange conglomerate
sonority in m. 49, similar to the one found in mm. 41-42. The pitches are B, E, G, and As, and
Mahler employs it as a quasi V of E – and E minor arrives directly after in m. 50, along with the
exposition proper. In the context of E minor, the E and G could, again, be understood as
anticipations of the coming I chord; the As – which had been absent from the previous V of B in
m. 39 – a suspended leading tone. And at a deeper level these skewed surface voices could be
separated and correctly realigned back into their respective functions, but I propose that this
sonority has a far deeper meaning than some advanced counterpoint. I posit that this sonority is
the culmination of function entanglement: that it truly represents, in the context of E minor, V/V
+ V + I; or in the context of B minor, V + I + IV. It signifies the compositional problem of the
first movement; i.e., the first event of the identity narrative: the schism between I and V. Further,
Mahler returns to this grotesque dominant for the structural close at the end of the recapitulation,
which I discuss below.
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4.3 Exposition Analysis
The primary theme emerges from the trumpets’ falling fourths motif, now heard in the
horns and cellos beginning in m. 50 (Fig. 4.11); an E minor chord is articulated by the high
woodwinds and violins. That the horns and cellos are the lowest sounding instruments at this
time is significant because the opening falling fourth from E to B seems to destabilize the arrival
of E minor. On beat three of m. 50, and into m. 51, we have an E minor 6/4 chord, which is very
similar to the dominant sonority from m. 49 – apart from the As. One could posit that the
dominant, which was prolonged throughout the introduction, has not relinquished its control, and
that tonic and dominant are suggested to be entangled at the start of the exposition. The theme
continues, though, and moves back to E in m. 52, which then leaps down a fifth to A – later
corrected up an octave in m. 54 to reflect better the rising fourths (Fig. 4.11, middleground). So
far, our points of melodic arrival after the initial E have been B-E-A: a replication of the fourths
motif.
After the arrival of A in m. 53, the theme arpeggiates an A minor chord, but the upper
woodwinds and violins continue to articulate E minor. Here we see another example of Mahler’s
compositional technique that blends separate functions (I and IV) into each other. Ultimately, the
A in m. 53 is an anticipation to the A in m. 54 as support for the fII harmony. 70 A local V-I
cadence on E occurs in mm. 56-57, but the primary theme emphasizes 3 and does not lose its
momentum. The consequent of the first theme, mm. 58-64 (Fig. 4.12), switches the harmonic
emphasis from I to V, or E minor to B minor. This antecedent-consequent phrase structure that
moves from I to V is a common design, but nonetheless highlights the hierarchical ambiguity in
that E minor struggles to maintain its status as tonic and becomes subservient as IV of B. The
70
I want to emphasize that the Neapolitan chord fits into the three – dimensional subdominant (IV) object—it can
also be conceptualized as IV of C.
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upper voice corroborates the shift of local tonicity as E takes on the role of 4 in mm. 60-61 and
resolves to D, or 3 of B. 4 as upper neighbor to 3 is established in mm. 50-57 – in E minor – as a
middleground motive, which makes the reinterpretation of the role of E within the context of B
that much more significant.
The theme returns for a second iteration in m. 65, but is delayed by one beat – a subtle
change that is nearly undetectable due to the fast pace of the music. With this change, it is now B
– and not E – that is placed on the strong downbeat and further confirms the complicated
relationship that Mahler has established between tonic and dominant. After this point, the theme
is altered into transition material and there is a rising third from the B in m. 66 to a prolongation
of D that initiates in m. 70 (Fig. 4.13). This D, which is undoubtedly the upper third of B,
ultimately moves to Ef in m. 77, and then enharmonically changed to Ds in m. 79.
In m. 80 we encounter a key change to B major, accompanied by what sounds like new
thematic material. Everything about these parameters suggest that we have entered the second
group; however, this section of music is a red herring. The putative second group arrives in m.
118 in the key of C major (Fig. 4.13). Mahler incorporates this false second group to reiterate,
once again, the entangled relationship between tonic and dominant. If we closely examine the
thematic material found in mm. 79-98, we discover that it is a synthesis of the first theme and
motivic elements from the introduction. In mm. 79-80 the violins reproduce the falling fourths
that was originally associated with the trumpets at the end of the introduction and then subsumed
into the first theme by the horns and cellos. Here, the fourths (Gs-Ds-As) are transposed in a way
that suggest that they are upper thirds relative to B major, but we can understand them as a part
of the larger three-dimensional dominant object – that is, the key of Ds (Ef).
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Figure 4.11: First group from Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 50-57
86
Figure 4.12: First group continued from Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first movement, mm. 58-64
87
88
Thus, Gs-Ds-As represent IV-I-V in Ds: the building blocks of the first theme (Fig. 4.11). This
new presentation of the fourths motif is also reminiscent of the tenor horn’s melody in m. 2, both
in rhythm and its outline of a descending minor seventh. There are also elements of this section
that are suggestive of a Gesangsthema, particularly mm. 90-95. The melodic line shifts from the
disorienting, leaping fourths to a melody that is lyrical and largely stepwise. This respite is brief,
however, and the leaps return once again before a key change back to E minor in m. 99.
While E is initially in the bass in m. 99 to coincide with the key change to E minor, the
harmony here is A minor in the 6/4 position. I read the E as the unfolded upper fifth of A, which
does appear, however briefly, at the end of m. 103. Immediately after, the bass moves to a B
pedal in mm. 104-117, which suggests a larger prolongation of B from mm. 79-117. This
extended B prolongation is ultimately a dominant function and a bridge between the first group
and the putative second group. The most important attribute of this B prolongation is that it
ultimately manifests an augmented triad: B-Ds-G in mm. 114-117, although there are moments
of friction in which Dn is juxtaposed with Ds. Dn suggests G major, or a stabilized dominant of C
– which is the key of the putative second group that arrives in m. 118. The dissonant contrast
between Dn and Ds over the B pedal is perhaps the result of the deeper harmonic motion as the
three-dimensional tonic object rotates from E minor to C major (C major is marked as unfolded
from E in m. 50 in the deep middleground, Figure 3.13(a), to signify that it is a part of the three-
dimensional tonic object). That we perceive this moment as dissonant is a consequence of our
limited, one-dimensional perception of musical sound.
The putative second group, as one would expect, presents a character that is quite distinct
from the first group, marked by the violins’ chromatically ascending lines and leaps to climactic
pitches that are accented agogically on beat two. As a counterpoint, the horns are set with a
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chromatically descending line that is reminiscent of the horn part from the preceding B major
section (specifically mm. 80-84); this similarity further suggests that that B major section is a
thematic hybrid of the first and second groups, rather than an independent section. Harmonically,
the C major second group is largely static; there is a progression of I-ii-viio7-I, but the bass voice,
which amounts to a C-B-C lower neighbor, does not indicate a strong cadence. The absence of a
root-position dominant renders this iteration of the second group as stagnant and undeveloped,
and not at all the potent counter statement one would expect. Additionally, the thematic material
feels rushed and not allowed the space to unfold fully, and its ending a contrapuntal web of
dissonance that collapses into the development. That the second group presented here is
unsatisfying is not initially apparent until it returns at the end of the development in the key of B
major – one of the most transcendent moments of the symphony.
There is a 3-2-1 descent in C major, but it only occurs after the second theme
disintegrates in m. 133; thematically, the music returns to the march theme from the introduction.
To further complicate the arrival on C major in m. 141, an As is present in the inner voice, which
creates an augmented sixth. As stated in the sonata discussion at the end of Chapter 3, this
augmented sixth serves to enhance the motion towards the dominant and the identity schism
event in m. 145.
4.4 Development Analysis
Although the B that arrives in m. 145 is a 6/4 chord (E and G in the upper voices), it
quickly moves toward a cadence in m. 160. However, I read G (3 of E) as a deeper background
upper voice throughout the development, and that the Fs that accompanies the dominant
prolongation is ultimately a middleground lower neighbor; in other words, the Fs that is present
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throughout the development is not a background 2. The upper voice is complicated by the
mechanics of the three-dimensional dominant object since it contains both G and Fs, which
means that the dominant space can prolong the minor scale degree 3 or 2 – and potentially both
at the same time. As a result, the voice leading can at times appear to be paradoxical depending
on which side of the three-dimensional dominant object has rotated to the musical surface. For
example, the bass moves down from B, through a passing tone on A in m. 217, to G in m. 228;
here the upper voice G corresponds better. But it would be understandable for one to prioritize Fs
supported by B major in m. 160 as more structurally significant, and to read G as its upper
neighbor.
The section on G (mm. 228-247) contains no independent descent, but instead prolongs
the important upper voices – namely G and Bf/Bn. In mm. 248-250, in my middleground graph
(Fig. 4.15), I use an unfolding sign to connect D and Bf. Together they comprise the three-
dimensional V/V object and facilitate the rotation from G to Ef. While the Fs in m. 252 could be
considered as a continuation of the three-dimensional V/V, here it acts as an incomplete upper
neighbor to the Fn in m. 254. Here, the Fn prolongs the V/V function as part of a 4/3 Bf chord (V
of Ef) – much like the A in m. 227 as part of a 4/3 D chord (V of G) – and acts as a passing tone
between G and Ef.
Mahler marks the arrival on Ef in m. 258 in two ways. The first is the trumpet fanfare that
begins in m. 256 and reoccurs throughout the Ef section. Historically, the trumpet fanfare has
been used to signal the arrival, or forthcoming arrival, of some important event or person 71.
71
William Parker Melvin, "Instrument of Life and Death: The Symbolic Role of the Solo Trumpet in the First and
Third Movements of Gustav Mahler's Symphony No. 5 in Cs Minor," (Ph.D. diss., University of Illinois, 1997): 52–
57.
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92
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Here I believe Mahler employs the trumpet fanfare to announce the forthcoming B major reprise
of the second group. The second way in which Mahler marks the Ef section is a sudden shift in
the musical texture from polyphonic to homophonic. The chorale-like Ef section presents a stark
contrast in mood compared to the previous one hundred measures of frenzied polyphony. Like
the G section before it, there is no upper-voice descent to Ef and it instead prolongs the important
upper-voice pitches G and Bf. Thus, the upper-voice stasis of the G and Ef sections further
enforces that they are prolonging the dominant space rather than presenting a harmonic
departure.
In between the prolongation of Ef there is a brief detour back to G in mm. 266-297. I read
this G as III of Ef, and not as hierarchically equal to the previous G section. However, this G
section is much more fleshed out than the previous G section in that it has a full 3-line descent.
My middleground also employs another double-unfolding symbol that connects G in m. 284 to
Ef in m. 285 and Cf in m. 286. These three chords all represent the local three-dimensional tonic
object. They are further connected by shared dominants in between, although each is only an
open fifth (D-A, Bf-F, and Gf-Df); thus, the resolutions are comparable to deceptive motions, but
a more nuanced understanding is that this harmonic progression represents a full rotation of the
local three-dimensional tonic object.
After the detour to G, the trumpet fanfare returns once again in m. 298 as well as the Ef
chorale in m. 304. When the Ef chorale returns it is in the minor mode; thus, the upper-voice G
has descended to Gf, which functions as an anticipation of the Fs that arrives with the B major
second group in m. 317. The thematic material of both the Ef major and minor chorales is a slow
version of the march theme from the introduction. In the Ef minor chorale the march theme rises
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from Ef-D-C (m. 304), to Gf-F-Ef (m. 306), then A-Gs-Fs (m. 310), and finally descends to Gs-
Fs-E (mm. 315-316) as the 7th of V of B.
The second group in B major is one of the most climactic moments of the movement. Its
arrival is marked by harp arpeggios and a pure homophonic texture in the woodwinds and
strings. The harmonic trajectory toward a cadence is also clear; the bass rises fIII-IV-V in mm.
328-333 (Fig. 4.16); this harmonic progression facilitates a chromatic voice exchange from
Fs/Dn in m. 328 to Ds/Fs in m. 333. Every aspect about this presentation of the second group
appears fuller and more complete compared to the C major iteration (m. 118), which is
harmonically stagnant and thematically disintegrates before its cadential arrival in m. 141. The B
major presentation is how the second group should sound. Additionally, this is the first point in
the movement where the dominant crystallizes into its own fully supported local tonic, unlike the
introduction or the previous sections of the development. This evidence suggests that the B
major section is the real expositional second group in terms of the standard sonata design; the
dominant has fully separated from the tonic and now seeks to confirm itself as the oppositional
harmony. However, it falls short of that goal in that its V-I cadence is interrupted at m. 338.
Instead, the music collapses back to the B minor introduction – initially without Gs, but at the
end of m. 339 the first double basses reprise the opening tenor horn melody: Fs-D-Gs.
The interruption at m. 337 evokes, at a surface level, the structural interruption one would
expect to find at the end of the development as described by Schenker; however, the interruption
here is on V/V rather than V. Thus, while it provides the rhetorical effect of an interruption, it is
a middleground phenomenon and does not initiate a background division.
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Measure 338 and the return of the introductory material is sometimes read as the beginning of
the recapitulation, or the introduction to the recapitulation. 72 I read it as a continuation of the
oppositional dominant harmony as it seeks a cadential confirmation. That process is complicated,
though, in that m. 338 reprises the B minor + Gs sonority, which signals that the dominant and
tonic functions are still entangled – the identity schism still ongoing. A new 3-line descent in B
begins with the reprise of the introductory material in m. 338, but now in the minor mode;
however, the mode is rather ambivalent throughout this section (Ds appears frequently, and the
key signature remains in B major). The descent is not completed until m. 410 – into the
recapitulation.
Nested within this B minor descent is the transition towards the “double return” of the
first group and the putative tonic in m. 394. This transition first moves to A major in m. 365,
which is then transformed, through a 5-6 exchange, into a first inversion F major chord in mm.
369-372. The fII (Fn) is one reason that I read the E major in m. 373 on such a low level – that
the E major chord functions as a passing sonority between the A in m. 365 and the B in m. 393
(Fn-E-Ds in an inner voice). In other words, a IV-V progression towards the E arrival in m. 394.
However, as stated, I read this E as a putative tonic and its role is discussed in the next section.
4.5 Recapitulation Analysis
The recapitulation of the first group in m. 394 closely resembles the original first group
that began in m. 50. One adjustment is that it initiates on E major, but Gs is quickly reinterpreted
as f4 and resolves to Gn in m. 397; additionally, the predominant is changed to II, rather than fII.
72
For example, see Constantin Floros, Gustav Mahler: The Symphonies, trans. Vernon and Jutta Wicker (Portland:
Amadeus Press, 1993), 193; John Williamson, on the other hand, reads the recapitulation at m. 394, and that mm.
338–393 continue to prolong the dominant, “Mahler and Episodic Structure,” 46; another interpretation, given by
Henry – Louis de La Grange, is that the recapitulation begins in m. 373, Gustav Mahler, vol. 3, 856.
97
Otherwise, there are no significant foreground details to suggest that this iteration of E minor is
different from the E minor at the beginning of the exposition. Yet the deeper structure and the
identity narrative indicate that a true return to tonic in m. 394 is problematic. In my reading, I
show that the identity schism is still unfolding and that an oppositional harmony, and the identity
crisis, has not yet been established. To attribute the status of “tonic return” to the E minor in m.
394 would be incongruent with the necessary order of events that engender sonata form. Instead,
this E minor is marked as IV of B; it is caught within the dominant prolongation. The following
consequent phrase that begins in m. 403 is likewise comparable to the expositional version in
mm. 57-64. Both versions of this consequent phrase change the harmonic trajectory from E to B.
In the exposition, this progression is understood as I-V; however, the recapitulation, as it is
caught within a dominant prolongation, reverses the hierarchical relationship of this progression
to IV-I.
Also comparable to the exposition is the move towards a prolongation of D at m. 417,
which functions as III of B (Fig. 4.17). Afterward, the D prolongation unfolds to Bf in m. 425,
and together they form part of a three-dimensional V/V object; the Bf acts as a lower neighbor to
Bn in the bass. The motion back to B in the bass is accompanied by a key change to B major in
m. 427. As in the shift to B major at m. 80 in the exposition, this section of music facilitates a
transition to the second group. The usual normative process of the recapitulation is to transform
the music of the transition in order to guide the arrival of the second group towards the tonic and
continue the identity reclamation process. Rather than move to the tonic, the second group of the
recapitulation is in the key of G major. Another unfolded three-dimensional V/V object
facilitates the transition from B major to G major in mm. 436-449 (Fig. 4.17).
98
99
One fascinating aspect about the second group in G major at m. 465 is how quickly it
moves to a cadential confirmation (Fig. 4.17). In fact, the climactic A on beat 2 in m. 466 is 2 of
G, followed by 1 in m. 468 – four measures to reach a cadential close. This expedited arrival is
even more significant when we consider that the first iteration of the second group in C major
(m. 118) thematically dissolves before it completes a descent – and even then it terminates on an
unstable resolution that contains an augmented sixth; the second group in B major (m. 317),
while fully fleshed out in texture and harmony, is cut short of reaching its cadence, and is instead
interrupted by the funeral march in B minor in m. 338. That G confirms its cadence so
immediately after the second group is reprised suggests that it is connected to the B major second
group. The cadence that was interrupted in m. 337 is, in a sense, resumed in m. 465, and together
they form a complete structure – akin to an antecedent and consequent period. This reading is
further supported by the lack of a strong 3 of G, although one can be implied from an inner voice
in m. 466. Even with the implied 3, this cadence seems oddly balanced without the weight of
some preceding build up, such as the previous B major second group. Mahler implies their
connection in that immediately after the cadence on G, the music moves to B minor in m. 471,
followed by a quasi-3-line progression D-C-B, or 3-f2-1. The bass moves from B to D in m. 474,
which unfolds a local V of G through m. 477 (and over an anticipatory G pedal), and finally to G
in m. 478.
The cadence on G in m. 468 is where I mark the identity crisis event – that a real Stufe
rival has arrived in the background structure. To be sure, I read G major not as III, but as part of
the three-dimensional dominant object (marked as [= V] in Fig. 4.17). Because my reading
connects the B major and G major second groups into one period, the E minor first group at m.
394 is necessarily caught within this dominant prolongation. The logical question to ask at this
100
point is when do we get back to the real tonic Stufe, and what does that tonic mean for the sonata
narrative? In terms of a standard sonata analysis, John Williamson reads the structural close at m.
495. 73 However, I find the placement of tonic at m. 495 to be problematic for reasons which I
will disclose shortly; I read the real return of tonic (1/I) at m. 515 (Figs. 4.18 and 4.19). Thus, the
dominant continues to be prolonged from m. 478, the conclusion of the G major second group, to
m. 514. Once again, the putative E minor tonic at m. 495 is caught within a dominant
prolongation.
The way in which Mahler approaches E minor in m. 495 is paramount to a proper
understanding of this movement’s structure. Measures 487-495 are nearly an exact reprisal of
mm. 19-27 from the introduction but transposed down a major third (Fig. 4.18); measures 495ff.
are more elaborate than mm. 27ff., but the same effect is achieved – and these sections employ
the same foreshadowed variation of the first group (trombones in m. 27; trumpets and trombones
in m. 495). The structure of the first two sections of the introduction is a descending-fourth
progression in the bass: B-Bf-Af-Gf in mm. 1-31.
For reasons that I disclosed in my discussion on the introduction, I read Af – which
supports the first group variation – as a passing tone that is caught within a prolongation of B.
Likewise, I read a descending-fourth progression in the bass from the second group on G (mm.
466-478) to Fs in m. 493, to E in m. 495, and finally to D in m. 507. This D chord in m. 507 does
indeed present as a back-relating V9 of G: D-Fs-A-C-Ef; it is also agogically accented for three
measures. Thus, G, and consequently the three-dimensional dominant object, is prolonged in
mm. 478-508 (Fig. 4.18).
73
Williamson, “Mahler and Episodic Structure,” 46; La Grange also puts the beginning of the coda at m. 495,
Gustav Mahler, vol. 3, 856; Floros, on the other hand, puts the coda much later at m. 523, which is more aligned
with my reading that puts the coda at m. 515, Gustav Mahler, 193.
101
102
Immediately after the V9 of G chord, an A minor chord (or IV of E) unfolds in mm. 510-511 and
the dominant of opposition arrives in mm. 512-514. I read the A minor as a passing chord that
facilitates a voice exchange from B over G at the end of the second group in m. 478 to G over B
in m. 512 (Figs. 4.18 and 4.19). This voice exchange validates the shared functional space
between G major and B major as different aspects of the three-dimensional dominant object.
In my middleground sketch I have outlined four main voices (SATB) that connect this
voice exchange (Fig. 4.20). Beginning in m. 478, the SATB arrangement is B, G, D, and G
(marked with beams in the sketches) and moves toward G, E, B, and B in m. 512. The majority
103
of the chord in mm. 513-514 is the same as the chord at the end of the introduction, m. 49: B-E-
G-As. In this case, the high strings and woodwinds unfold the B major triad in m. 514: Ds-Fs-
(C)-B.
Figure 4.20: Middleground, Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, mm. 466-512
Buried within this dense texture, there is also the hint of a 3-line descent in B: Ds (horns, m.
512)-Dn (high strings and woodwinds, beginning of m. 513)-Cs (high strings and woodwinds,
end of m. 512, picked up by horns in m. 514)-Cn (high strings and woodwinds, end of m. 514)-B
(high strings and woodwinds, m. 515, picked up by horns in m. 516). In terms of rhetorical
impact, this dominant chord has the necessary weight to signal the structural close – unlike the
putative dominant in mm. 493-494, which is presented more as a fleeting thought (the chord
suspended over B in m. 494 is actually V of B). Yet, despite the gravity and satisfaction of this
cadence, the dominant in mm. 512-514 is destabilized by its internal mechanics that seem to
104
suggest several functions simultaneously. In my discussion of the similar chord in m. 49, I
suggested that B-E-G-As represents a conflation of harmonies relative to B; specifically, the
chords IV + I + V (which is also representative of the fourths motive). The significance of this
conflation is that it interprets E minor as IV of B, which is realized in the large-scale harmonic
plan of the sonata form through the phenomenon of function entanglement. In mm. 512-514, the
V of B is more pronounced, particularly with the 3-line descent against As in the cellos and
trombones. I would suggest that this dominant chord can be understood in the same way as a
cubist painting.
4.6 Cubism
A few years after Mahler completed his Seventh Symphony in 1905, the cubist art
movement began to develop. One key component for the cubist style was the concept of
simultaneous perspectives; that objects could be represented in multiple positions, in space or
time, in one painting. This movement was influenced by theoretical explorations of the fourth
spatial dimension (although this concept was sometimes conflated, incorrectly, with four-
dimensional spacetime). Since four-dimensional objects cannot be perceived in the traditional
way (as for a three-dimensional object), they must be represented in a way that compresses the
number of dimensions. As a result, the subjects of cubist paintings appear distorted and even
grotesque. The fascination with the fourth dimension, both the spatial and temporal types, had
been on the rise since the late nineteenth century. In the very early twentieth century, the work of
theoretical physicists such as Albert Einstein and Hermann Minkowski laid the mathematical
foundation for four-dimensional spacetime. 74 The influence of the fourth dimension is apparent
74
Chiara Ambrosio, “Cubism and the Fourth Dimension,” Interdisciplinary Science Reviews 41, nos. 2–3 (June–
September 2016): 202–221.
105
in cubism, but its impact was felt throughout culture and society – these concepts were “in the
air,” so to speak. Chiara Ambrosio, in their article “Cubism and the Fourth Dimension,” states:
That a technical, mathematical notion was appropriated and used by artists at the
beginning of the twentieth century is no longer an astonishing discovery, at least for art
historians. The past decades have seen the emergence of a lively body of literature
offering conjectures on how the concept of the fourth dimension, and the visual sources
associated to it, participated in the reformulation of pictorial space that characterised
Cubism in particular, as well as a range of subsequent avant-garde movements. 75
I believe it is highly plausible that Mahler was likewise influenced by the possibilities of the
fourth dimension.
In his essay “The Literary and Philosophical Worlds of Gustav Mahler,” Morten Solvik’s
opening statement calls attention to links between musical and philosophical speculation in
Mahler:
Any thorough understanding of Gustav Mahler and his music must probe the
complexities of his thoughts about life and existence. Mahler’s pursuit of these
fundamental questions went far beyond idle speculation, haunting his personal reflections
and informing his artistic project with a nearly obsessive quality. In significant ways,
Mahler’s works represent a response to this existential inquiry, an extension of an
overriding need to somehow fathom the universe. 76
One of Mahler’s life-long friends was the physicist Dr. Arnold Berliner. They first met in
Hamburg in either 1891 or 1892 (their earliest extant correspondence is dated 9 June 1892).
According to Bruno Walter, “Friends of his, professionally occupied with natural science, were
hard pressed by his deeply penetrating questions. An eminent physicist whom he met frequently
could not tell me enough about Mahler’s intuitive understanding of the ultimate theories of
physics and about the logical keenness of his conclusions and counter-arguments.” 77 Berliner,
75
Ambrosio, “Cubism,” 203.
76
Morten Solvik, “The Literary and Philosophical Worlds of Gustav Mahler,” in The Cambridge Companion to
Mahler, ed. Jeremy Barham (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 21.
77
Bruno Walter, Theme and Variations, trans. James A. Galston (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1981), 86.
Morten Solvik speculates that the physicist in question was most likely Arnold Berliner.
106
who later founded the Naturwissenschaften journal (the German counterpart to the British-based
Nature) 78, was likely aware of the emerging interest in the fourth dimension. It seems feasible
that a discussion of this topic could have occurred at some point between Mahler and Berliner.
If we imagine the dominant in mm. 512-514 like a cubist painting, that it represents
multiple harmonic dimensions of B in compression, then we can formulate a better sense of its
meaning. That it conflates the horizontal progression V-I-IV (of B) into a verticality suggests
that the dominant still maintains some amount of control in the hierarchical structure; the
dominant and tonic remain caught in the phenomenon that I call function entanglement, and the
structural close is marred as a result. For the sonata narrative, this dominant also poses a
problem. The identity crisis is never resolved since I do not read a fundamental interruption in
the structure of this sonata, or any other compositional device that would reset the background
structure and allow the tonic to wrest control. Thus, the dominant in mm. 512-514 is what I refer
to as the dominant of opposition. Typically, the dominant of opposition refuses to resolve to 1/I,
which necessitates the structural reset and for the tonic to start again. That the dominant of
opposition here – which is made even more grotesque and contrarian through its “cubism”
treatment – is used for the structural close, denotes that the final event of the sonata narrative,
identity reclamation, is not possible and the crisis still ongoing.
Instead, the resolution, and the tonic’s reclamation of its identity, must occur outside the
first movement. “Super-sonata form” is a concept that seeks to overcome the putative disconnect
between movements in a structurally unified multi-movement work. In his book on
Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony, Timothy Jackson offers the following description:
78
Sven Thatje, “Dr. Arnold Berliner (1862–1942), Physicist and Founding Editor of Naturwissenschaften,”
Naturwissenschaften 100 (2013): 1105–1107.
107
In super-sonata form (sometimes called a “sonata-in-one”), the three spatial divisions of
sonata form – exposition, development, and recapitulation – are superimposed upon the
design of a unified – usually (but not always) continuous – four-movement macro-
symphonic form. In this superposition, the first movement generally fills the exposition
space containing the first and second groups of a normative sonata form, and the Finale is
assigned the recapitulation space and encompasses the recapitulation of the first and
second groups. 79
He goes on to explain that the middle movements typically will occupy the development space –
or possibly augment the recapitulation space. Thus, the structural separation between movements
can be understood as illusory. Jackson concludes that a narrative integration of the individual
movements can reveal deeper, macro-structural underpinnings. For the purposes of this
dissertation, the remainder of my analysis will focus on the Finale and its reclamation of the
tonic’s identity.
79
Timothy Jackson, Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 6 (Pathétique) (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999),
26.
108
CHAPTER 5
FINALE ANALYSIS
5.1 Introduction
One of the most salient features of the Finale is the vast number of key changes that
occur throughout the movement – as well as the keys that are curiously absent. If we can
summarize the first movement as a problematization of the three-dimensional dominant object
and its relationship to the tonic, then a corresponding summary of the Finale is that it is a
problematization of the three-dimensional subdominant object and its relationship to the tonic. In
other words, the first movement plus the Finale encompass, at a macro level, the essence of the
V-I-IV fourths motive: V-I in the first movement, and I-IV in the Finale. The problematization of
the first movement is that the tonic is often caught within a dominant prolongation, and is thus an
apparent tonic that is better understood as IV/V. Likewise, in the Finale the tonic is often caught
within a subdominant prolongation and is reinterpreted as V/IV.
The main key of the three-dimensional subdominant object in the Finale is A major,
which might seem strange in the context of a C major movement. However, when we consider
the deepest tonic as three-dimensional, and that the first movement emphasized E as the local
tonic, then the appearance of A major in the role of subdominant is logical (i.e., A is IV of E). A
major also aligns exactly with the B-E-A fourths motive first presented by the trumpets at the
end of the introduction to the first movement. Mahler further hints at this connection in that the
Finale begins on E minor, mm. 1-6. My analysis largely reflects the expansion of the
subdominant, which I read from mm. 219-550, or 56% of the movement.
5.2 Tonic Prolongation
As discussed at the end of Chapter 4, the role of the Finale is recapitulatory and to
109
reaffirm the tonic’s status. The final event of the sonata narrative, the identity reclamation, was
not achieved by the end of the first movement. And as if to account for that lacuna, Mahler
devotes the first 219 measures of the Finale to tonic space; 36% of the movement. In contrast,
the tonic occupied only 23% of the entire first movement, with the remaining 77% largely under
the control of the dominant. The beginning of the Finale also fully encompasses the three-
dimensional tonic object; after the introduction in E minor, the primary theme group (what
Floros and Scherzinger refer to as the ritornello, although they both include the E minor
introduction into this group) 80 is presented in C major, mm. 7-51 (the primary theme group
consists of theme I in mm. 7-15, theme II in mm. 15-23, theme III in mm. 23-37, theme IV in
mm. 38-44, and theme V in mm. 45-51); then, a secondary theme is presented in Af major, mm.
53-78 (fig. 5.1). The way in which Af major arrives is rather curious in that it interrupts C major
in the middle of m. 51, and they overlap each other briefly. In my reading, this curiosity is
explained as a sudden rotation of the three-dimensional tonic object.
What follows is a lengthy prolongation of C major in mm. 79-218, in which there are
several reprises from the primary theme group, as well as a tertiary theme in mm. 87-115 (figs.
5.2 and 5.3). There are some deviations from C major in this section, such as D major in mm.
106-119 and A minor in mm. 153-188, but these can both be understood as functions within a C
prolongation, II and VI, respectively, and of a predominant nature. The A minor section is
notable since it presents the secondary theme, which was originally in tonic space (Af major,
mm. 53-78); A minor is further prolonged by its three-dimensional subdominant counterparts Df
and F major in mm. 189-191 (marked with a double-unfolding sign in the middleground).
80
Floros, Gustav Mahler, 207; Martin Scherzinger, “The Finale of Mahler’s Seventh Symphony: A Deconstructive
Reading,” Music Analysis 14, no. 1 (March 1995): 75.
110
Figure 5.1: Middleground, Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, Finale, mm. 1-70
111
112
113
This lengthy presentation of A minor seems to foreshadow the forthcoming entanglement
between the tonic and subdominant spaces, which begins to unfold with the key change to A
major in mm. 220ff.
But before Mahler begins the process of entanglement, he confirms the tonic’s status
multiple times. The primary theme group cadences on C major in mm. 15 and 23; nested within
the first cadence, there is an internal cadence on E major, mm. 13-14: the 3-2-1 is in an inner
voice in Horns 1 and 3, against a I-V-I in the bass voices. Additionally, Af major achieves its
own cadential arrival in m. 70 within the secondary theme. There are two additional cadential
arrivals on C major in the opening tonic prolongation: mm. 136 and 218 (there are also two half
cadences in mm. 86 and 196). The length devoted to the tonic space as well as the number of
times it is confirmed through cadential arrivals indicates that a resolution to the problem that was
presented in the first movement, where entanglement with the dominant rendered the tonic
structurally weak and left the identity crisis unresolved, is now achieved. In fact, one could argue
that the dominant is almost underrepresented in the Finale. Within the opening tonic
prolongation (mm. 1-219), the dominant only appears to facilitate a cadence; it does not receive
its own prolongational sections, like the predominant functions II and VI. It is as though the
dominant has now been tamed, unlike the grotesque dominant of opposition found at the
structural close of the first movement (B-E-G-As-Fs-Ds-Cs/Cn).
5.3 Subdominant Prolongation
However, the Finale cannot end here despite the resolution of the initial structural
problem. The Finale needs more weight and so Mahler implements a new problem, which is the
entanglement of tonic and subdominant spaces as a mirror to the entanglement of dominant and
114
tonic spaces in the first movement. This portion of the Finale can be understood as a coda at the
macro, “super-sonata” level, since a motion to the subdominant within the coda space is a
common design.
The prolongation of the subdominant is a massive part of the Finale, and the mechanics
through which it is prolonged are complex. Part of the complication is how to interpret the Gf-
Bf-D three-dimensional musical object that unfolds in mm. 307-447. As I mentioned at the
beginning of my discussion in Chapter 4, this complex, at the global level, can be understood as
V/V or IV/IV (Fig. 4.2). In the Finale, it is caught within a prolongation of the subdominant
space, which suggests a IV/IV function. Also, that the Finale lacks a prolongation – or any
emphasis at all – on V, further suggests that a V/V interpretation is not warranted. Below I will
delineate exactly how this IV/IV space unfolds and fits within the subdominant prolongation.
After the key change in m. 220 there is a brief prolongation of A major, but without any
cadential confirmation (Fig. 5.4). Instead, the key shifts once again in m. 241 to Df major, which
is an enharmonic reinterpretation of the bass voice Cs in mm. 239-240. Although Df is part of
the three-dimensional subdominant object, in this context I believe its function is purely the
upper third of A. A 3-2-1 descent in Df follows, which picks up the enharmonic 3 of A. The key
returns to A major in m. 249 but a cadential motion is once again delayed, this time by a frantic
chromatic passage that begins in m. 260. The goal of this passage is a first inversion Af dominant
7th chord in m. 267. My reading suggests that this chord is derived from a chromatic voice-
exchange with the Fs chord at the end of m. 259: Cs/Fs to Gf/Cn. The arrival of the Af dominant
7th chord is accompanied by a key change to C major, and in the following measure (m. 268) the
primary theme group material returns in C major.
115
116
However, I do not interpret this C major as a return to tonic; rather, this is the first instance in
which the “tonic” is caught within the subdominant prolongation. Measures 267-290 expand the
Af-C-E three-dimensional musical object, but here it ultimately functions as V of A. E major, the
most literal, one-dimensional V of A, is even marked by its own cadence in m. 278. What
follows is a rising-thirds progression; first to Af in m. 283 and then to C in m. 286. At first, this
C major presents itself as a real tonic and even moves toward a cadential arrival marked with 2
of V in m. 290. But the cadence is deceptive in that m. 291 returns to A major; the upper-voice
descent is actually 3-2-s1, which once again picks up 3 of A. This subversion is a particularly
convincing bit of evidence to support a reading that the subdominant and tonic spaces are
entangled, and that the tonic here is apparent and caught within a subdominant prolongation.
The return to A major is heavily emphasized in that it superimposes themes I and III from
the primary theme group and the opening timpani fanfare (mm. 1-6). This polyphonic
presentation marks the significance of A major and its role in the global structure of the Finale.
That several themes from the tonic space have been co-opted by the subdominant signals the
hierarchical inversion and function entanglement. The status of A major is further confirmed by
a cadential arrival in m. 303 (Fig. 5.5). Once A major is secured, it opens the harmonic
floodgates and allows the music to explore some new, distant key areas from our original tonic.
In m. 307 we arrive at the first new key area of Gf major along with a return of the
secondary theme. The Gf section is notably long at 52 measures (mm. 307-359) and has three
cadential arrivals: mm. 328, 342, and 351. It might seem logical to consider Gf within the
context of the global key C major, but I believe we have to place it in relation to the three-
dimensional subdominant object which continues to make important structural appearances for
the remainder of the Finale.
117
118
As a result, I read Gf as part of the three-dimensional IV/IV object (along with Bf and D); in
other words, the Gf section facilitates a plagal extension of A major. The role of the IV/IV plagal
extension can be understood, in the deepest sense, as a pedal 6/4: A5/3-6/4-5/3. A pedal point on A
can be implied in the bass beneath the Gf section, and later the Bf and D sections as well; an A
pedal is literally present in the D major section. In terms of figured bass at the local level, the Gf
section moves the upper voices from 8/5/3 to f9/6/3 (Df is enharmonically understood as Cs, or
3). However, at the deepest level of this plagal extension, the Gf section prepares the 6 (Fs) of
the 6/4. Perhaps this is the reason there are so many confirming cadences on Gf, as a way to
emphasize its deeper structural purpose.
The Bf major section (mm. 360-405) directly follows the Gf major section (Fig. 5.6).
Here, theme I from the primary theme group is reprised and moves toward a cadential arrival.
However, the V of Bf that is reached at m. 367 is interrupted with a rest at the end of the
measure; in fact, the arrival on V is prepared with its own V/V and heavily suggests a half
cadence. Bf reinitiates in m. 368 with a unison theme that was briefly originally presented in A
minor in mm. 186-188. This Bf begins a lengthy rising third in the upper voice back to D in m.
404. In between is a passing tone on C that starts in m. 385 and is interrupted by another frantic
chromatic passage that leads to a Df-Bn augmented sixth chord in m. 400, which finally resolves
back to C over F in m. 403. Unlike the Gf major section, Bf never confirms a cadence. Instead,
the upper voice continues to emphasize D, particularly with the rising third in mm. 368-404.
Thus, the Bf section prepares the 4 of the 6/4 plagal extension. In terms of the local figured bass
(in relation to A), the upper voices are f9/f6/4.
119
120
A section in C major follows with the tertiary theme in mm. 406-433, the unison theme in
mm. 434-438, and theme III in mm. 439-442. This section is often read as a return to tonic;
however, my reading suggests that this C is caught within the unfolding IV/IV. In the tenor
voice, it facilitates a rising third Bf-C-D (mm. 404-447, middleground). The lower voice C
initiates a rising third: III-IV-V of A. Along with a 3-2-1 descent, a cadence on A is achieved in
m. 446.
This cadence on A coincides with a key change to D major, and a D major chord does
arrive in m. 447; however, this D major chord has one important distinction: it is in 6/4 position.
A pedal A remains in the bass throughout the putative D major section (in the bassoons, tuba,
and timpani in mm. 446-454, and picked up by the cellos and double basses in mm. 455-461).
Thus, we have arrived at the proper A6/4 chord that began to unfold with the Gf major section in
m. 307. At the end of this section in m. 461 the 6 (Fs) and 4 (D) move down to 5 (E) and 3 (Cs).
I do not read these as resolutions; rather, I read them as anticipations of the Gs6/4 that arrives in
m. 462. Indeed, there is a progression of descending 6/4 chords that repeat the same anticipation
pattern: A6/4 (m. 447), Gs6/4 (m. 462), Gn6/4 (m. 476), Fs6/4 (m. 486), and Fn6/4 (m. 492). Once this
final 6/4 chord is reached on Fn in m. 492, the pattern changes and there is no quasi-resolution of
the 6 and 4 to an anticipation (Fig. 5.7). Instead, the upper voices chromatically ascend (mm.
499-505, middleground). One of the main reasons I read the 5/3s that occur in mm. 461, 472
(partial, 5 only), 485, and 491 as anticipations and not resolutions of the 6/4s is because the
pattern freezes on the final F6/4 in m. 492; the 5/3 chords might be understood in terms of
Riemann’s Scheinkonsonanzen, or apparent consonances, that default to deeper structures. 81
81
For a discussion of Scheinkonsonanzen, see Alexander Rehding, “Tonality between Rule and Repertory; Or,
Riemann’s Functions—Beethoven’s Function,” Music Theory Spectrum 33, no. 2 (Fall 2011): 114.
121
122
In my estimation, this change signals that the 6/4 is more important and marks the deeper plagal
extension design. Further, that F is marked as the next point of arrival is significant since it is a
three-dimensional subdominant counterpart to A. Thematically, the music initially returns to
theme I for the first part of the A6/4 in mm. 446-554. Then there is a reprisal of the first group
from the first movement throughout the remainder of the descending 6/4 chords, mm. 455-499.
The last counterpart of the three-dimensional subdominant object, Df, arrives in m. 506
after the bass descends F-E-D-Df. Here, the key change actually indicates Df major and it is
presented as a 5/3 chord instead of a 6/4. Because Df major is in 5/3 position instead of 6/4, I
have marked it as an unfolded anticipation to the 5/3 A major chord that begins in m. 531 (in the
background structure, A is the operative Stufe). The first group (from the first movement)
continues, but now polyphonically set against the tertiary theme. Harmonically, there is no
motion from the sustained pedal on Df in mm. 506-516. Without any greater context, this Df
might be interpreted as a Neapolitan, especially when one considers that the next bass pitch in m.
517 is G. However, this G does not function as V on the global level. It lacks the rhetorical
power of a real dominant as it is presented with a sudden shift to piano, and the upper voice
begins the third progression A-G-F. Everything about this measure suggests that its function lies
elsewhere; I read it as II of F, and that the cadence on F occurs in m. 521. Although this F could
be interpreted as part of the three-dimensional subdominant that has unfolded from A to Df, I
read this F on a lower level as III of Df.
After a brief stint in E minor in mm. 522-530, the music finally returns to A major in m.
531 (Fig. 5.8). This is where I interpret the resolution of the deep 6/4 plagal extension back to
5/3. At the end of m. 532 the music moves to V9 of A. The bass then arpeggiates from E in m.
532 to Af in m. 533 to C in m. 536 – almost a fully realized three-dimensional V/IV object. I say
123
almost because the chord over C is really an Af dominant 7th. Regardless, this section represents
V of A, which resolves to A minor in m. 539. Yet, every analysis that I have covered (Floros, La
Grange, Downes, and Scherzinger) claim m. 539 as a return to C major. It is true that the upper
voices return to C major and initiate theme I, but it is superimposed with the opening timpani
fanfare transposed to A minor. The A minor arpeggiation at the bottom of the texture suggests to
me that the subdominant prolongation is still ongoing, and that it is now vertically entangled with
the tonic for the final presentation of the primary theme group.
This insertion of A minor into the final reprise of the primary theme group signals the
deeper significance of A and the three-dimensional subdominant space for the Finale’s structure.
It also necessitates a recontextualization of the primary theme group’s design. In the original
presentation (mm. 7ff.), an E major cadence was nested within the first cadential drive towards C
major. Within that context we can assume its function is to facilitate a full unfolding of the three-
dimensional tonic object (E-C-Af). However, in this final presentation, the nested E major
cadence (which returns in mm. 544-545) now suggests a dominant function with the preceding A
minor timpani fanfare. Additionally, the first cadence of the primary theme group in this last
presentation is deceptive; in m. 546 it is an Aadd6 chord, and not C major. In this sense, it seems
Mahler deliberately designed two cadential arrivals in the primary theme group. While it may
seem overly joyous, and even redundant, in the original presentation, in the final presentation the
second cadence is necessary to achieve structural close on C major (m. 554) and finally
disentangle the subdominant.
124
125
5.4 Coda
With the structural close on C achieved, Mahler proceeds with the rest of the primary
theme group as well as a return of theme I in E major, mm. 573-576; then, a reprisal of the first
movement’s primary theme in C major, mm. 581-585. Thus, E major and C major have swapped
their primary themes. The coda space in the Finale allows a final recapitulation of the first
movement material in order to address the problem that was originally posed: that the tonic’s
status was challenged, and indeed in jeopardy. However, only two members of the three-
dimensional tonic object, E and C, have been reasserted. Gs/Af does make an appearance in the
penultimate measure at the end of theme V, the final part of the primary theme group. It
coincides with the original presentation when C major was suddenly interrupted by Af major in
m. 51. In this case it is not Af major, but rather C augmented; thus, all members of the three-
dimensional tonic object are present: C-E-Gs (m. 589). In my estimation, this augmented triad
represents the deepest structural hierarchy of the Seventh – it is the true tonic sonority from
which all other diminutions have been generated.
126
CHAPTER 6
CONCLUSION
6.1 Introduction
The original intent of this dissertation was to confront the macro structure of Mahler’s
Seventh Symphony, particularly within the confines of a Schenkerian analysis. Since the
Schenkerian model privileges tonal hierarchy, the Seventh serves as an excellent example to
push that model, from the foreground to the deepest background, to its limits. Indeed, limitations
were encountered that required new perspectives and analytical innovations. The most apparent
issue when I began this project was the macro symphonic design in which the first and last
movements seemed to disagree about the tonic. This initial problem led me to a number of other
analytical models that offered some insight.
At the macro level, progressive and directional tonality address the problem of a tonal
design that seemingly indicates multiple tonic sonorities. However, these models lacked the
structural rigor that I hoped to achieve with my analysis. In most cases, I found that the
directional tonal readings fit more appropriately within an auxiliary cadence. However, in the
case of the Seventh, a large-scale auxiliary cadence, from III to I, felt unsatisfying; I felt that E
minor and C major were more strongly related. The argument that texted music could provide
more fertile ground for a directional tonal reading – that poetic intentions could supersede a
normal tonal hierarchy – seems more plausible. But since text is not pertinent to Mahler’s
Seventh, directional tonality did not appear appropriate for my topic.
On the other hand, Robert Bailey’s double-tonic complex and Graeme Downes’ axial
tonality models offered more robust possibilities. In these models, the boundaries of the
traditional tonic are expanded and able to encompass more liberal readings. For Bailey, a large-
127
scale work could revolve around a pair of tonic chords, and even manifest in the music as a
polychord. This conclusion resonated more clearly with Mahler’s Seventh and its progression
from E minor to C major in the outer movements. Downes’ axial system expands a similar
concept, but includes other functional spaces as well. These systems are well matched with the
voice-leading mechanics of transformational models, particularly the hexatonic cycle, and can
likewise reflect Edward Laufer’s concept of the primary sonority. My analytical model, the
multidimensional musical object, was inspired by each of these methods and I was able to
synthesize their best qualities.
6.2 The Multidimensional Musical Object
The initial premise around which I began to design my model was to develop a way to
make E minor and C major hierarchically equal. I believe I achieved this goal with my
multidimensional musical object, which became crucial to my analysis of Mahler’s Seventh. It
provided a way to connect organically the different keys of the outer movements into the
expression of a deeper, more fundamental element of the symphony. Additionally, this model
indicated the relevance of Af/Gs, which originally was not apparent to me. Once I established the
three-dimensional model (the octahedron that contains E, C, and Af triads), I began to work
backwards with the assumption that two- and one-dimensional counterparts must be possible.
My inferences led me to correlate modal mixture with the two-dimensional musical
object, and pure diatonicism with the one-dimensional musical object. The complete model, with
one-, two-, and three-dimensional musical objects, indicated the natural progression of harmonic
techniques throughout tonal practice. Diatonicism was most common in the early eighteenth
century; modal mixture became more apparent in the late-eighteenth century, and fully explored
128
in the nineteenth century; music in the late-nineteenth century began to explore the relationships
that are illuminated by my three-dimensional musical object – perhaps the term tonal mixture
might be an appropriate label. In this context, modal mixture is a logical precedent to the types of
tonal manipulations that are achieved with the three-dimensional musical object. For example,
the effect of modal mixture is that two tonic chords are possible instead of one: the parallel major
and minor. Even if only one is realized in the music, the other is at least implied through the
mixed harmony. The example I provided in my methodology discussion was Beethoven’s Fifth
Symphony, which fully realizes C minor and C major. One could choose to read the C major as
an apotheosis that supersedes C minor, and that may indeed be the best reading. But I would
argue that as the nineteenth century progressed the hierarchical distinction between the parallel
modes becomes less defined, even to the point of dualism. This phenomenon is especially
apparent in Mahler’s harmonic language, where in one phrase the mode can switch multiple
times and even be superimposed.
I would postulate that in the same way that the exhaustion of the diatonic system led to
modal mixture, so too the exhaustion of modal mixture led to tonal mixture – an ever increasing
need to expand the process of tonic prolongation and manipulation. The three-dimensional
musical object expands the scope of a tonic from two to six chords. With such a larger pool of
harmonic possibilities, it is easy for the tonic to be obscured, or completely misunderstood. Of
course, my model suggests that each of those six chords is only part of the tonic, or, more
precisely, one side of the three-dimensional tonic object. For a tonic of this type to be fully
realized, it would require significantly more space to be composed out. It seems particularly apt
for a multi-movement structure, like the symphony, where the outer movements can each unfold
a different side of the three-dimensional tonic object.
129
6.3 First Movement Conclusions
The first movement is, in many ways, the most complicated of the Seventh. A great deal
of that complication is bound up in the movement’s dialogue with sonata form. The implications
of a three-dimensional tonic object placed into the sonata process are already daunting, but
Mahler further enhances the potential for chaos by manipulating formal expectations. This latter
point required me to craft some additional analytical tools, such as the identity narrative. The
implement is a series of harmonic events: identity schism, identity crisis, and identity
reclamation. These events are then mapped onto the sonata form and help to indicate better the
progression of background Stufe. In the case of the Seventh, the identity events are delayed
beyond their typical formal boundaries. The result is that the first movement appears to complete
the sonata process – one could identify the exposition, development, and recapitulation spaces –
but the identity events unfold in a way that leaves the first movement unresolved. To better
elucidate this reading, I coined the term dominant of opposition to refer to the dominant that
typically precedes the interruption. In my reading, the dominant of opposition is a dominant that,
for narrative purposes, refuses to resolve to the tonic. The interruption is then one possible
device for the tonic to reassert itself over the dominant and reclaim its identity. For my analysis
of the first movement, I do not interpret an interruption. Instead, the dominant of opposition,
which manifests as a grotesque and dissonant B sonority, facilitates the structural close and
signals that the identity crisis is left unresolved.
Another conceptual tool that helped me to unpack the issues in the first movement is
function entanglement. The essential premise is that two functional spacesfor the first
movement, the tonic and dominantcan become entangled, both horizontally and vertically, in a
way that obscures or inverts the normal hierarchy. In this way, I could disclose the areas of the
130
movement where the tonic is merely apparent, and actually caught within a dominant
prolongation. This tool also allowed me to better interpret some of the strange surface sonorities;
for example, the first chord of the movement, the Gs half-diminished 7th in first inversion, is
understood as B minor, from the dominant, as conflated with Gs, a primary member of the three-
dimensional tonic object. That the dominant and partial tonic are conflated reveals the
fundamental problem of the first movement, which is largely made manifest through the identity
schism and crisis narrative events.
In my reading, embedded in the fourths motif, one of the main motivic elements of the
first movement, is the tonic and dominant problem. I interpret each pitch of the fourths motif as
representative of harmonic functions; thus, B-E-A is understood to represent V-I-IV. Harmonies
that are separated by a fourth are context dependent in order for their functions to be determined.
Thus, B to E could be understood as V-I or I-IV. It is this rather simple device that Mahler
employs to present the tonal drama throughout the first movement.
Each of these analytical devices helps to inform the unfolding three-dimensional musical
objects that encompass the movement. The three-dimensional tonic object unfolds from the E
minor first group to the putative C major second group. Then, the identity schism occurs and the
three-dimensional dominant object unfolds through descending thirds: B-G-Ef-B. The final third
descent marks the arrival of the real B major second group. Afterward is the recapitulation of the
E minor first group, but this “tonic” is caught within the dominant prolongation. The dominant is
picked back up by the recapitulation of the G major second group, which concludes the half
cadence found at the end of the B major second group. Without the three-dimensional musical
object, these function regions, as well as the sonata narrative, could easily be misunderstood.
131
6.4 Finale Conclusions
Traditionally one of the most criticized of all Mahler’s output, 82 a great deal of the Finale
is only made comprehensible after the structure of the first movement is clarified. Martin
Scherzinger summarizes the qualities that have generally led to the confusion about the Finale:
The lack of a clearly identifiable development section (customary for a movement of this
size), together with the persistent cadencing (though not even the cadences necessarily
coincide with the structural points of the movement), serves to undermine, rather than
underscore, the overall logic of the finale. It seems impossible, then, to designate a
sonata-like formal division. In fact, except for the passages beginning at b.249 and b.368,
there are few passages that have a forward-pressing character at all. 83
The main criticisms, that the Finale lacks development and is overly diatonic (the persistent
cadences), can be dealt with in the context of the identity narrative. At the end of the first
movement the identity narrative is left unresolved with the identity crisis in process. That the
identity narrative needs to conclude with the reclamation event is the impetus for the Finale’s
design. The reason that the Finale lacks any significant development is because the first
movement was heavily weighted with the development part of the narrative. The Finale’s
ultimate purpose is to reassert the tonic’s identity, which is largely achieved through a series of
emphatic, tonic-confirming cadences – and on all three primary members of the three-
dimensional tonic object: E-C-Af.
After the lengthy tonic prolongation, the remainder of the Finale can be understood as
occupying the coda space at the super-sonata level. In order for the Finale to be weighted
properly, particularly when compared to the first movement, Mahler instigates a new problem:
the entanglement between tonic and subdominant (I-IV). Apart from the subdominant as a
82
See James L. Zychowicz, “Ein schlechter Jasager: Considerations on the Finale to Mahler’s Seventh Symphony,”
in The Seventh Symphony of Gustav Mahler: A Symposium, ed. James L. Zychowicz, 98–106 (Madison, WI: A – R
Editions, Inc., 1990).
83
Scherzinger, “The Finale of Mahler’s Seventh,” 76.
132
typical harmonic diversion in the coda space, its presence in the Finale is also motivic in that it
mirrors the V-I entanglement in the first movement. Thus, the first movement and the Finale
together complete the ascending fourths motif: V-I-IV. The plagal design of the Finale is further
emphasized in that the three-dimensional subdominant object is prolonged with its own plagal
extension, or the three-dimensional IV/IV object (Gf-Bf-D). This particular aspect of my reading
is perhaps the most adventurous, but I believe it is a more logical conclusion in the context of the
first movement’s design. There the emphasis is on the three-dimensional dominant object, and its
corresponding three-dimensional V/V object (Fs-As-D) is employed several times – in some
cases through a double unfolding. The general harmonic plan for the first movement could be
summarized as V/V-V-I, and for the Finale as I-IV-IV/IV.
6.5 Future Projects and Final Thoughts
Now that I have fleshed out the multidimensional musical object as an analytical tool, I
plan to utilize it for other analyses. The most immediate case would be the middle movements of
Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, and to discover how they inform the three-dimensional tonic
object interpretation. But the most interesting endeavor would be the exploration of other late-
nineteenth-century composers, such as Wagner, Brahms, Liszt, Wolf, and Strauss, and to
discover how relevant this model is in their music. In the music of these composers there are
certainly examples of the types of major-third relationships that are so prevalent in Mahler’s
music, and it would be significant to discover that any of them use a three-dimensional tonic
object – or if their implementation of major-third relationships is less fundamental to the
background structure.
As for Mahler’s implementation of this harmonic language, it seems deliberate and
133
appears at all structural levels. The usage of these three-dimensional musical objects pushes the
tonal system into new territory and opens new structural possibilities. In my estimation, one of
Mahler’s main compositional goals – in general, but specifically with the Seventh – is to
illuminate the fragility of the tonic’s status in this late-nineteenth-century musical style. That the
tonal system is about to reach a breaking point.
134
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MULTIDIMENSIONAL MUSICAL OBJECTS IN MAHLER’S SEVENTH SYMPHONY

Jason Patterson, B.A., M.M.

Dissertation Prepared for the Degree of

UNIVERSITY OF NORTH TEXAS

Timothy Jackson, Major Professor

Gustav Mahler’s Seventh Symphony seems to belie traditional notions of symphonic

reconcile Mahler’s adventurous key scheme, this dissertation explores a multidimensional

and transformation theory. A multidimensional musical object is a nexus of several

It is difficult to imagine this dissertation, or my grasp on music theory in general, without

Schenkerian analysis has been invaluable to me. He continuously challenged me to be a better

years of instruction and inspiration.

because of their input.

me sane through the entire process.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ........................................................................................................... iii

LIST OF FIGURES ....................................................................................................................... vi

CHAPTER 1. INTRODUCTION ................................................................................................... 1

CHAPTER 2. THE MULTIDIMENSIONAL MUSICAL OBJECT ........................................... 19

CHAPTER 3. JUSTIFYING THE MULTIDIMENSIONAL MODEL ....................................... 37

CHAPTER 4. FIRST MOVEMENT ANALYSIS........................................................................ 69

CHAPTER 5. FINALE ANALYSIS .......................................................................................... 109

CHAPTER 6. CONCLUSION.................................................................................................... 127

BIBLIOGRAPHY ....................................................................................................................... 135

Figure 1.1: Schenker’s analysis of Chopin’s Op. 28, No. 2............................................................ 2

Figure 2.1: Two-Dimensional visual space metaphor .................................................................. 22

Figure 2.2: One- and two-dimensional musical objects................................................................ 22

Figure 2.3: Three musical objects and their dimensions............................................................... 25

Figure 2.4: Wormhole effect ......................................................................................................... 28

Figure 2.6: Foreground of Schubert’s “Der Doppelgänger” ......................................................... 31

Figure 2.7: Middleground of Liszt’s Étude No. 3, Un Sospiro..................................................... 34

Figure 2.8: Middleground of Hiller’s Piano Concerto No. 1, Finale ............................................ 36

Figure 3.5: Superimposition of Af and Gs enharmonics in Mahler’s Seventh Symphony, first

Figure 4.1: Three-dimensional V, I, and IV objects ..................................................................... 69

Figure 4.2: Three-dimensional supertonic object ......................................................................... 70

Figure 4.7: Gs half-diminished and Af minor chords ................................................................... 78

Figure 4.10: Harmonic frequency ................................................................................................. 83

1.1 The Problem

manuscript. 2 Of course, key designations on title pages appear to be largely a tradition of

significant indicator of a symphony’s structure. Still, we must be aware of any potentially

global key is at best challenged and at worst non-existent.

structurally uninterrupted, and can be understood as functions in relation to the tonic;

undoubtedly A minor. 5 These analytical advantages do not extend to multi-movement works

movement is part of a large-scale auxiliary cadence.

Figure 1.1: Schenker’s analysis of Chopin’s Op. 28, No. 2

to simplify the complicated harmonic language of late nineteenth-century composers by

1.2 Literature Review

B minor prolongation ultimately functions as V of E. On the other hand, the applicability of

weighted [my emphasis] tonal centers within one musical work.” 10

In order to further differentiate directional tonality from a traditional auxiliary cadence

is more appropriately phenomenological:

cadence in Schenkerian analysis.

Christopher Lewis finds the concept of progressive tonality to be problematic:

[I]t is gravely misleading, since to distinguish between “progressive” and “concentric”

cadences, although he does not state that explicitly. He argues that,

hierarchical relationship should be determinable based on harmonic syntax. To return to

an off-tonic ending is not out of the realm of possibility.

key is disproportionately more weighted than the closing key. As an example,

and ends with the A/C complex.” 19

response raises the following questions:

them according to their level of controversy:

Category 1: Tonal Pairing

Category 2: [Double Tonic Complex] (motivic)

BaileyShea prefers the motivic emphasis of category two. He states that:

extraordinary structural claims require extraordinary evidence.

Christopher Lewis attempted to refine the methodology of the double-tonic complex in