Titling Conventions

Until the early 20th century, the vast majority of non-operatic and non-balletic music titles were usually defined by the type of group of instruments or solo instrument for which the piece was composed, followed by the number of that specific genre by that composer. Often the title included the harmonic key or tonal center of the piece, and the title was completed with the inclusion of the opus number. For example, the fourth symphonic work composed in 1885 by Johannes Brahms is titled, "Symphony No. 4 in e minor, Op. 98." For the sake of brevity, I'll refer to this as the 19th century titling convention, although this titling system had been in place long before that.  At the dawn of the 20th century, composers were still using this well-established system. For example, Igor Stravinsky subscribed to this model as late as 1907, when in that year his first symphonic work was completed and bore the title, "Symphony No. 1 in E-flat Major; Op. 1." But by the following year, Stravinsky had discarded this titling convention, as witnessed by two compositions from 1908: "Scherzo Fantastique for Orchestra, Op. 3," and "Chant Funebre for Wind Orchestra, Op. 5."  The mention of the tonal center was discarded as compositions became less diatonic and more chromatic and pantonal. This trend can be witnessed in many other composers of the early 20th century.  Within the oeuvre of the piano sonatas of Alexander Scriabin, 1907 saw the completion of his "Piano Sonata No. 5 in F#; Op. 53," but by 1911, the next sonata was entitled, "Piano Sonata No. 6; Op. 62." Clearly, the titles were changing with the forward momentum of the expansion of music. Many of the most abstract compositions still retained, and even reflected this artistic evolution. Some very abstract works used the accepted titling conventions; a particularly salient example would be Charles Ives' trailblazing 1916 work, "Symphony No. 4."

As the 20th century progressed, titling practices began to expand beyond the conventional and the accepted. The Second Viennese School, comprised of Arnold Schoenberg, Alban Berg, and Anton Webern, composed several very progressive orchestral works, but only Webern's 1928 composition, "Symphony," bore any conventional titling resemblance. An example of Alban Berg's titles ranges from 1915's "Three Pieces," composed for full orchestra, to the 1926 string quartet composition, "Lyric Suite." Ironically, Berg's final composition, 1935's "Violin Concerto," saw a return to 19th century titling conventions. John Cage expanded the range of titling conventions even further with such works as 1940's "Living Room Music," 1942's "The City Wears a Slouch Hat," 1943's "Tossed As It Is Untroubled," 1945's "Mysterious Adventure," 1947's "Music for Marcel Duchamp," 1975's "Lecture on the Weather," 1979's "Roaratorio: An Irish Circus on Finnegan’s Wake," 1985's "But What About the Noise of Crumpling Paper," and even 1978's "A Dip in the Lake: Ten  Quicksteps, Sixty-two Waltzes, and Fifty-six Marches for Chicago and Vicinity."

While this manner of titling is arguably more interesting and creative on their own than something like "Symphony No. 2," these titles may tend to pre-condition the listener. In other words, it's possible that if a person hears a composition with a title such as "North American Songbirds: Music for Wind Quintet," the danger could be that instead of hearing the music with no preconceived notions, even as a sui generis, and thus gleaning the purest meaning from the work, the listener will instead be told that this piece contains bird sounds, or may tend to resemble birdsong, and as such, listen for these familiar elements instead of hearing the composition as a singular and unique work. Hence, the true musical and artistic content may be diluted or completely obscured, and the opportunity for the listener to ascribe personal interpretation, meaning and visualization to the music is lost. With no hints as to the composer's intent, inspiration, or attributes, it's probable that the listener will bring no preconceptions into their hearing and interpreting of the work. This allows for at least two phenomena to occur: 1. with no preconditioning, a purer concept of the music can be experienced, and 2., the listener can interpret the piece through their own experience and allow the music to take on meanings which may only be apparent to that specific listener. To title a composition "String Quartet No. 4" may assist the listener in hearing the music for what it is, and the listener may in fact hear or interpret the work entirely differently than another listener; thus making the experience a very unique and personal one for each listener, with no preconceptions.

Concurrently in the 20th century, we see a similar titling convention materialize in the world of painting. Instead of a painting bearing a title of what the painting represents, or its subject, the 20th century began to see paintings with titles similar to the 19th century music titling conventions. Examples would be the Jackson Pollock drip paintings with such titles as "Number 1, 1950," and "Number 8, 1949." While Pollock's drip paintings were some of the most abstract examples of the abstract expressionist school, these kind of neutral titles allowed the observer to see in the paintings whatever they might. This process has the potential to draw the observer into the painting in such a way that they cease to be an observer, and almost become a contributor. While more challenging and demanding of the observer than a self-explanatory portrait from the Dutch Masters school, it may offer a much richer and artistically expanding experience.

As the 20th century progressed, there were composers that titled their compositions in a manner which was almost skeletal in its austerity; what might be considered a minimalist version of the 19th century titling practices. Whereas composers were previously supplying such information as group and/or orchestration, the number of that type of work, the harmonic key or tonal center, and opus number, a few of the mid-to-late 20th century composers stripped their titles down to nothing more than a bare list of the instruments involved. One such composer was Morton Feldman, the creator of works with such titles as 1976's "Orchestra," 1981's "Bass Clarinet and Percussion," and 1987's "Piano, Violin, Viola, Cello."

To put it another way: an acquaintance of mine grew up with a father who was an abstract artist. When he was a young child, there was a day when a friend was visiting, and my friend was proudly showing off his father's paintings. His friend grew bewildered at the unfamiliar shapes and unknown artistic language, and asked him, "What is it?" My friend didn't know how to answer, and the next day, asked his father the same question. His father wisely replied, "It's whatever you want it to be." In my opinion, this should be the ultimate goal of any musical listening experience: it should be whatever the listener wants it to be. As in the example of modern paintings with neutral titles, this kind of listening, while more demanding of the listener, may tend to place the listener in more of the role of contributor rather than that of inert observer. Hence, the opportunity for a richer, more artistically expanding experience.

This is my reasoning for adherence to the 19th-century titling conventions (without the inclusion of harmonic key / tonal center or opus numbers) for the vast majority of my own works.  There will be a few exceptions; e.g., the Bilateral Asymmetries series (see above), et. al.   Nevertheless, it is my contention that the 19th-century composition titling convention presents the music to the listener in its purest form, with a minimum of preconceptions.

In the past few years, some of my album titles are appended with a Roman numeral.  This denotes an ongoing and connected album series.  For example, the Ethereal series; as of this writing, the most recent edition is Ethereal V.  These are albums featuring Sandor Szabo and I.  Most of the albums and music and concerts for which Sandor and I are known are acoustic duets.  The Ethereal series are titled with a numbering convention to set them apart from the acoustic duets albums.  The Ethereal series involve me on acoustic guitar family instruments or piano, and Sandor on either electric guitars with treatments, or composed orchestrations.  I find that using a numbered series album titling convention shows which album projects are connected while simultaneously setting them apart from other albums involving the same personnel.

-kk