## 1. Antiquity



Lippman (1992: chapter 1) observes that Greek Antiquity is responsible
for two ideas that shaped Western musical thought until at least the
seventeenth century. The first amounts to a *metaphysical*
claim. While details vary greatly, this is the claim that the laws and
structure of music correspond to those of the universe. This view is
at times supplemented with the additional thought that celestial
bodies themselves produce music as they follow their orbits. The
Pythagorean concept of cosmic harmony, or harmony of the spheres, is
the first known example of the metaphysical conception of music. The
second idea is an *ethical* view, sometimes referred to as
ethos theory. According to this view, music has the capacity to alter
mood and mold personality, and thus may contribute to moral education
(see Lippman 1964: chapter 2).



Some authors, especially those of Pythagorean persuasions, explicitly
link the ethical view to the metaphysical one: if the whole universe
is musical, so is the human soul, hence music's power over it.
In other authors, such as Aristotle, the ethical and educational value
of music is construed as depending mainly on its capacity to imitate
or arouse emotions.


### 1.1 The Universe as Harmony: Pythagoras and the Pythagoreans



No writings survive that are directly attributable to Pythagoras (c.
570-c. 490 BCE). His view of music must therefore be
reconstructed from the works of other Pythagoreans, or from more or
less sympathetic accounts provided by other authors (a useful
collection of texts is found in Barker 1990: chapter 1). Central to
Pythagorean philosophy is the notion of harmony as the unity of
various parts. In this sense, the concept has a much broader
application than to music, for harmony regulates the motion of
celestial bodies as well as the human soul (on the concept of harmony
in ancient Greek philosophical thought, see Lippman 1964: chapter 1).
In the Pythagorean tradition, mathematics is the discipline that
investigates harmony. Musical harmony is no exception to this, as the
interval of the octave may be expressed as a numerical ratio (2:1).
The octave may in turn be considered as the sum of a fifth (3:2) and a
fourth (4:3). Pythagoras was generally credited with the discovery of
the relations between these intervals. These are best illustrated
using a monochord, an instrument constituted by a single string, the
vibrating sections of which are determined by the position of a
movable bridge. However, it is unclear whether the monochord was in
fact used by Pythagoras (Barker 2014: 186), and it is also plausible
to assume that instrument makers had some understanding of these
relations before they became the object of intellectual
speculation.



The series of numbers involved in these ratios (1 to 4, thus adding up
to 10) was considered sacred by the Pythagoreans, who named it
*tetraktys*. This metaphysical view of music as a reflection of
cosmic order proved to be enormously influential in Western musical
thought. As the harmony found in music is essentially the same
principle as the one that regulates both the cosmos and the human
soul, at least some Pythagoreans thought that their view could explain
the effects of music on the listener's mood and character.



The most notable opponent of the Pythagorean notion of celestial
harmony was Aristotle. He offers two main reasons to reject this idea.
First, he argues that physical bodies could not be composed of
numbers, for the latter have no weight, whereas the former do
(*Metaphysics*, 14.3). Second, he observes that loud sounds
shatter glass and produce a physical effect upon us. The movement of
planets in space, Aristotle argues, would produce an even greater
effect on us, the absence of which is proof that celestial bodies
produce no sound (*On the Heavens*, 2.9). In addition to
rejecting the idea of a celestial harmony, Aristotle also rejects the
related notion that the human soul is a kind of harmony (*On the
Soul*, 1.4).


### 1.2 Mathematical and Empirical Harmonics



'Harmonics' is the Ancient Greek discipline that studied
musical entities, from intervals to scalar systems (Barker 1990: 3).
The Pythagorean tradition marked the start of an influential approach
to harmonics, focused on the definition of musical entities in
mathematical terms. Early contributors to this approach were Philolaus
of Croton (c. 470-c. 385 BCE) and especially Archytas of
Tarentum, a contemporary of Plato (Huffman 1993, 2005).



A mathematical treatment of harmonics informed by Pythagorean
principles is also given in the *Sectio Canonis*, a treatise of
debated authorship, but often attributed to Euclid. Nicomachus (fl. c.
100 CE) wrote an influential introduction to harmonics from the
Pythagorean standpoint (source texts with commentary are collected in
Barker 1990; Barker 2007 reconstructs the development of Pythagorean
harmonics.)



Parallel to the Pythagorean tradition, an alternative approach sought
to ground the laws of music in the way it appears to a competent
listener, rather than in explanations from other domains of knowledge.
This tradition attempted to provide descriptions of music in
autonomously musical terms, and valued accordance with musical
practice. This *empirical* approach to harmonics is in contrast
to the *mathematical* approach adopted by the Pythagorean
school (on the differences between the two schools, see Barker 2007
and Barker 1990: 3-8). The contrast between these two schools is
of philosophical interest, insofar as it concerns the appropriate
level of explanation for aesthetic phenomena. Additionally,
mathematical harmonics often were taken to support the metaphysical
worldview associated with the Pythagorean doctrine, whereas empirical
harmonics tended to follow from an Aristotelian framework (see Barker
2007: chapter 4; Mathiesen 1999: 303).



By far the most important figure in the empirical tradition is that of
Aristoxenus (see
 SS1.4),
 although he relied on the work of previous theorists (Barker 2007:
chapter 2). The mathematical and empirical traditions are often
referred to as Pythagorean and Aristoxenian, respectively.



Theophrastus (c. 371-287 BCE), who followed Aristotle as the
head of the Lyceum, is critical of the Pythagorean approach. He
observes that we may find quantitative regularities in things other
than musical intervals, yet we still consider these things as
different from musical entities. This, he argues, must be due to the
fact that intervals and melodies are essentially something other than
numbers (Barker 1990: 111-114; Lippman 1964: 157-160;
Barker 2007: chapter 15).



It is important to stress that the contrast between empirical and
mathematical approaches was already evident to ancient theorists and
commentators, who often passionately took sides. Ptolemais of Cyrene
(fl. between the 3rd century BCE and the 1st century CE), the only
known Greek woman music theorist, distinguishes between
*mousikoi* and *kanonikoi*, a distinction that matches
the one between Aristoxenians and Pythagoreans (Barker 2014: 185).



Some theorists developed hybrid views. Ptolemy (c. 100--c. 170
CE) is a case in point, as he explicitly faults both Pythagorean and
Aristoxenian approaches (*Harmonics*, book I, 2). His
philosophical outlook is clearly Pythagorean. For instance, he defends
at length the notion of cosmic harmony, tracing parallels between
musical and cosmological entities (*Harmonics*, book III, 9).
However, he attempts to develop mathematical constructs that are
better adherent to musical practice than the ones proposed by
Pythagoreans, thus addressing a concern characteristic of the
Aristoxenian approach.



Aristides Quintilianus (3rd-4th century CE), an author known
uniquely for his treatise *De Musica*, also attempts a fusion
of Aristoxenian and Pythagorean elements. While his view of harmonics
is indebted to Aristoxenus, his philosophy of music bears a strong
Pythagorean influence. Book III of his *De Musica* illustrates
parallels between musical elements and the most disparate parts of
reality, from the senses, to virtues, all the way to celestial bodies.
Aristides Quintilianus defends the ethical value of music, and in
doing so he explicitly refers to Plato's and Aristotle's
views on the issue. He argues that music imitates moral actions in a
way that is superior to that of the other arts, because it achieves
*mimesis* in more than one way, that is, through words and
melodic movement (*De Musica*, book II, chapter 4). Aristides
Quintilianus also classifies musical elements, from modes to
instruments, as masculine, feminine, or a mixture of the two (modes
are scales that divide up the octave in different sequences of tones
and semitones; though the names of Greek modes are identical to the
later Church modes, they name different scales). This classification
is supposed to help in determining the ethos of musical pieces and
instruments, feminine elements being associated with smoothness, and
masculine ones with roughness (*De Musica*, book II, chapter
12).


### 1.3 Music, Emotions, and Society: Plato and Aristotle



A central concern in ancient Greek philosophy of music is the
connection between music's capacity to imitate emotions and its
social value. Plato (427/28-347 BCE) and Aristotle
(384-322 BCE) both develop an account of this relation, and are
particularly interested in the pedagogical consequences of their
theories.



When they talk about 'music' (*mousike*),
Plato and his contemporaries often have in mind a broader set of art
forms than the ones we associate with music today. In this broad
sense, *mousike* denoted "a seamless complex of
instrumental music, poetic word, and co-ordinated physical
movement" (Murray & Wilson 2004: 7). Plato sometimes also
uses the term in a narrower sense to indicate melodic and rhythmic
elements that we would consider today as properly musical (for a brief
discussion of the broad and narrow sense of *mousike* in
Plato, see Schofield 2010: 230-231).



Plato believes that music may contribute to the education of the
youth, and more generally to the correct functioning of society, but
also holds that it may pose dangers. Underlying Plato's concerns
about the musical education of citizens is the wider assumption that
changes in musical taste must be avoided or at least closely
scrutinized, as they will produce changes in society
(*Republic*, 4.424b-d, *Laws* 2.660a-b). In the
*Laws*, Plato goes so far as to describe the changes in musical
taste that followed the Persian wars as the trigger for subsequent
rejection of authority and societal unrest (*Laws*,
700a-701b).



According to Plato, the sensible world is an imperfect copy of perfect
and immutable ideas. Plato's general view of the arts, including
music, is that they are an imitation (*mimesis*) of objects
found in the sensible world. This leads to his famous condemnation of
art in Book X of his *Republic*. For, if our world is already a
copy, then the arts provide us with copies of a copy. Thus,
Plato's metaphysics motivates his dismissive view of art's
epistemic value.



However, Plato also holds that the musical imitation of some human
emotions may be ethically beneficial, especially at the stage when
children are too young to be responsive to ethical education that
relies on a discursive and rational basis. Plato first describes the
emotions in question indirectly, one as the emotion of a person who is
steadfast and resolute in misfortune or while fighting, the other as
the state of "someone engaged in a peaceful, unforced, voluntary
action" (*Republic*, 3.399b). Plato holds that these
emotions, which he then refers to explicitly as courage and
moderation, are best imitated through the Dorian and Phrygian modes,
which



> 
> 
> imitate the violent or voluntary tones of voice of those who are
> moderate and courageous, whether in good fortune or in bad.
> (*Republic*, 3.399c)
> 
> 
> 



Thus, Plato construes musical imitation of emotions as grounded on the
resemblance of music to human expressive behavior, particularly vocal.
At least on one occasion, he also seems to hold that music imitates
the bodily movements associated with emotions (*Laws*,
2.654e-655a). This could be considered the first defense of the idea
that musical expressiveness is due to the music's resemblance to
human expressive behavior, a position that remains popular to this day
(see the entry on 
href="../hist-westphilmusicsince-1800/#AnalPhilMusi" history of
western philosophy of music: since 1800, section 2.6).



How does the musical imitation of courage and moderation achieve its
educational purpose? At least some passages suggest that Plato thought
music to be capable of influencing human character in virtue of the
common harmonic nature shared by the soul, music, and the universe.
For instance, in the *Republic*, Socrates tells Glaucon
that



> 
> 
> rhythm and harmony permeate the inner part of the soul more than
> anything else, affecting it most strongly and bringing it grace, so
> that if someone is properly educated in music and poetry, it makes him
> graceful, but if not, then the opposite. (*Republic*, 3.401d;
> see also *Republic*, 3.412a, *Timaeus*, 47d-e, and
> *Laches*, 188d)
> 
> 
> 



Young (forthcoming) observes that Plato seems elsewhere to reject the
Pythagorean view of the soul as harmony (*Phaedo*,
89-95). On this basis, Young holds that Plato's view of
the ethical benefits of music is best interpreted as simply relying on
the music's imitative capacity. Regardless of what one makes of
Plato's view of the soul as harmony, it is clear that he was
influenced by the Pythagorean view of the universe as governed by
harmony, especially in the *Timaeus*.



On the surface, Aristotle's view may appear close to
Plato's. Both philosophers hold music's value to reside in
its imitation of emotions. However, Aristotle's view is
considerably more nuanced.



In the *Poetics* (1447a), Aristotle makes clear that all the
arts are imitative, although they differ in the means, object, and
manner of imitation. Aristotle has a more positive view of imitation
than Plato, observing that humans are prone to it since childhood, and
granting that we may learn through imitation. This cognitive value of
imitations also explains why we feel pleasure when engaging with them,
even when they imitate things we would find ugly or repulsive in real
life (*Poetics*, 1448b 5-20).



Discussing the object of musical imitations, Aristotle introduces an
interesting distinction between mere indications or signs
(*semeia*) of emotional states and the states themselves.
Signs of emotional states are the observable behavior that accompanies
the occurrence of such states. Aristotle holds that the visual arts
merely imitate signs of emotions. For instance, a painter may
represent a man weeping or smiling. However, music is able to imitate
the emotional states themselves. A plausible reading of
Aristotle's view is that he regarded music as capable of
arousing the emotions it imitates, and that this capacity ultimately
explains how music may imitate emotional states themselves, as opposed
to their manifestations. On this analysis, the object of musical
imitation cannot be specified separately from the emotional response
the music arouses in the listener (Halliwell (2002: 248) stresses this
point; Sorbom 1994 offers an alternative interpretation).



To understand the relation between Aristotle's view of musical
imitation and its educational role, it is useful to examine this
passage:



> 
> 
> Besides, when men hear imitations, even apart from the rhythms and
> tunes themselves, their feelings move in sympathy. Since then music is
> a pleasure, and excellence consists in rejoicing and loving and hating
> rightly, there is clearly nothing which we are so much concerned to
> acquire and to cultivate as the power of forming right judgments, and
> of taking delight in good dispositions and noble actions.
> (*Politics*, 1340a)
> 
> 
> 



Here Aristotle seems to be arguing the following: music imitates
character, that is, various dispositions and emotional states; the
musical imitation of such states generates pleasure in the listener;
so, if we restrict musical imitations to those of morally praiseworthy
states, listeners will be pleased at such states in real life.
Aristotle is relying on the assumption that the pleasure accompanying
our engagement with an imitation will extend to the experience of the
imitated object in real life. As he expresses it:



> 
> 
> The habit of feeling pleasure or pain at mere representations is not
> far removed from the same feeling about realities. (*Politics*,
> 1340a)
> 
> 
> 



Therefore, the moral value of musical education depends on the
capacity of mimetic representations to induce pleasure in those who
appreciate them. While this capacity may be shared by both music and
the visual arts, it is only music, according to Aristotle, that is
able represent states of character, as opposed to merely representing
their manifestations.



An additional function of music, according to Aristotle, is catharsis.
Music may help individuals who are in states of extreme enthusiasm,
pity, or fear return to a more balanced state (*Politics*,
1342a). The details of this process are hard to reconstruct, because
they are tied to the debated concept of catharsis, introduced by
Aristotle in his definition of tragedy (*Poetics*, 1449b). It
seems clear that Aristotle thought of the cathartic process as
requiring music expressive of emotions akin to the ones to be purged.
For example, a state of uncontrolled religious frenzy could be subdued
by means of frenzied music.



Plato and Aristotle come apart also with regard to the role of the
pleasure we take in listening to music. Plato's approach is a
pragmatic one. The aspects of music he values are all and only those
that contribute to its ethical role. Such a principle governs
Plato's observations on musical pleasure. He does not deny that
music may be able to induce pleasure. However, this pleasure is only
valuable insofar as it attracts listeners to music that is good for
their moral education (*Laws*, 2.668a-b).



Plato also notes that pleasurable responses may become associated with
music of the morally questionable sort, as such responses depend also
on habituation (*Laws*, 7.802c-d). From this he concludes that
it is of great importance to control children's musical
environment.



Aristotle's view of musical pleasure is far more positive. It is
clear from the above that pleasure plays a role in Aristotle's
account of music's educational value. But Aristotle also thinks
that pleasure generated by music is valuable for two other reasons.
First, music may provide relaxation to those that are tired from work.
In this sense, the pleasure it produces is similar to that produced by
eating or sleeping (*Politics*, 1339a-b). Second, and perhaps
more interestingly, Aristotle holds that the pleasure of music should
be part of a cultivated life (*Politics*, 1339b; for a
discussion of the functions of music in Aristotle, see Lippman 1964:
130-131.)



Both Plato and Aristotle comment on the value of instrumental music.
Plato's pragmatic attitude grounds his injunction against
complexity and subtlety in music (*Republic*, 3.399c-e). He
holds that music should have a vocal part, and argues that the musical
elements should conform to the emotional state described by the
piece's lyrical content (*Republic*, 3.400d). This
concern with clear and unequivocal musical imitation also motivates
Plato's stance on the value of instrumental music. While it is
clear that Plato holds the purely musical elements of melody and
rhythm to have an imitative potential, he attributes little value to
instrumental music, presumably because he believes that it is unable
to provide an unequivocal imitation of courage and moderation
(*Laws* 2.669 d-e).



Aristotle is again more nuanced. According to him, both vocal and
instrumental music produce pleasure (*Politics*, 1339b). In
general, despite his reservations concerning the *aulos* (an
instrument comprising two, linked, reed pipes) (*Politics*,
1341a), Aristotle's attitude toward instrumental music is far
less critical than Plato's. For example, Aristotle is clear in
conceding that even purely instrumental music can arouse distinct
emotions, due to both its melodic and rhythmic elements
(*Politics*, 1340a-b).


### 1.4 Aristotelian Empirical Harmonics: Aristoxenus



A disciple of Aristotle, Aristoxenus (fl. 4th century BCE) argues that
harmonics should not be concerned with an explanation of musical
phenomena in mathematical terms, but rather describe musical
structures through the analysis of musical elements as objects of
perception. For example, Aristoxenus distinguishes between the
speaking and singing voice, the former being characterized by a
continuous movement across pitch space, the latter by intervallic
movement from one pitch to another (*Elementa Harmonica*, book
I, 9-10). On the basis of this distinction, he provides a
definition of note (*phthongos*) as any pitch on which the
voice rests and that has a position in a given melodic line
(*Elementa Harmonica*, book I, 9-10; for a detailed
discussion of Aristoxenus as a music theorist, see Mathiesen 1999:
294-344).



Another striking element in Aristoxenus' conception is his view
of musical understanding, which he thinks involves the faculties of
perception and memory,



> 
> 
> for we have to perceive what is coming to be and remember what has
> come to be. There is no other way of following the contents of music.
> (*Elementa Harmonica*, book II, 38-39)
> 
> 
> 



Note that perception is not described as the mere awareness of what is
present to our senses at a given time, but includes an anticipation of
"what is coming to be". Here, Aristoxenus seems to
anticipate an account of musical understanding similar to the one
recently defended by Jerrold Levinson (1997).



Aristoxenus' view of the moral effects of music is harder to
reconstruct. While it is clear that he thought music to be a proper
object of ethical evaluation, he likely had a less dogmatic conception
of the link between given modes and their moral value than Aristotle
(see Rocconi 2012 and Barker 2007: 245 ff.).


### 1.5 Music and Moral Education: Skeptical Views



Some ancient philosophers reject the view that music is valuable
beyond the pleasurable experience it affords. In doing so, they
question the educational value of music.



In his *De Musica*, the epicurean Philodemus (c. 110-c.
30 BCE) rejects the widespread view that music may imitate the
passions, claiming that music is no better able to represent
psychological states than the art of cooking (see Wilkinson 1938).
Philodemus appeals to Democritus (c. 460-c. 370 BCE), but
evidence regarding the latter's views is scant. While it is
clear that Democritus held music to stand lower than other arts in
terms of utility, it is probably not true that he thought this
deprived it of educational value (see Brancacci 2007:
193-95).



Sextus Empiricus (fl. 3rd century CE), in *Against the
Musicians*, also denies that music could have any positive
educational role. While he concedes that we may enjoy music, he denies
that the study of music could contribute to such enjoyment. In support
of this, he also compares music to cookery, arguing that in both cases
enjoyment is independent of our understanding of the thing enjoyed
(*Against the Musicians*, 24-25).


## 2. Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages



Despite spanning about one thousand years, the period that goes from
late Antiquity to the end of the Middle Ages brought little new to
Western philosophy of music.



A prominent feature of this period is the emergence of the Christian
worldview. Christian thinking on music adapts some of the views it had
inherited from Greek Antiquity, chief among them the Pythagorean
harmony of the spheres and the idea that music may influence
character.



The medieval approach to music is biased toward the point of view of
the theoretician. Music is typically grouped together with scientific
disciplines. The sensory pleasure of the listener is rarely remarked
upon, and at times considered with suspicion. The individuality and
creativity of the composer is also neglected, and the role of
performing musicians almost entirely ignored or dismissed (Schuller
1988, and Young forthcoming (chapter 2) are extensive introductions to
medieval musical aesthetics).


### 2.1 Early Christian Views of Music: Augustine and Boethius



Saint Augustine of Hippo (354-430), philosopher and Father of
the Church, devoted to music his treatise *De Musica*. Although
mostly technical in character, the book is an early statement of the
medieval view of music as first and foremost a science, rather than a
practical occupation. Augustine defines music as "the science of
mensurating well" (*scientia bene modulandi*--this
last word is at times rendered as 'modulation'), that is,
the discipline concerned with the attainment of measure and proportion
(*De Musica*, book I, 2).



An almost identical definition of music is found in Cassiodorus
(485-c. 585) who states that "Music indeed is the
knowledge of apt modulation" (*Institutiones*, 5), as
well as in Isidore of Seville's (560-636)
*Etymologiarum*:



> 
> 
> Music is an art of modulation consisting of tone and song called music
> by derivation from the Muses. (*Etymologiarum*, book III,
> 15)
> 
> 
> 



Augustine's attitude toward the sensory pleasure derived from
music was conflicted. On the one hand, he recognizes music's
power in worship. On the other hand, he is aware that this could also
lead the faithful to stray away from the religious content of the
experience (*Confessions*, II).



The philosopher Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius (c.
480-525/26), normally referred to simply as Boethius, had a
fundamental role in shaping medieval musical thinking. Through
commentated translations of Greek authors and original expositions of
their views, Boethius allowed classical Greek philosophical ideas to
survive into the Middle Ages. He did so in the field of music by
writing *De Institutione Musica*. In this work, Boethius
summarizes music theory as found in the Greek treatises he knew. The
book also distinguishes between three types of music: *musica
mundana*, *humana*, and *instrumentalis*. *Musica
mundana* is the harmony of the cosmos, a Pythagorean concept that
found widespread acceptance over the course of the Middle Ages, though
it was recast in Christian terms. *Musica humana* is described
only briefly by Boethius, though it is clear that it is the harmony
between the various elements that compose the human body. Some modern
accounts of Boethius's thought identify *musica humana*
with singing, but this is incorrect, though it is true that later
medieval thinkers used the term in such a way (see Dyer 2007: 59; 64;
69). Finally, *musica instrumentalis* is sounding music, vocal
and instrumental. While this is undoubtedly regarded today as the core
of music, Boethius considers it as music only in a derivative sense.
Boethius's tripartite division is repeated and accepted by
numerous medieval writers on music.



Boethius also takes from Greek Antiquity the Platonic view that music
may arouse emotions and influence human character. He observes that
this sets music apart from other mathematical disciplines (*De
Institutione Musica*, book I, 1).


### 2.2 Christian Thought and Music



The impact of Christianity on medieval musical thinking is evident in
the religious interpretation given of two philosophical views from
Antiquity, the harmony of the spheres and the ethos theory, according
to which music may shape the listener's character. Both of these
ideas were held by Boethius (see the preceding section) and found
widespread acceptance among medieval writers.



The Christian take on the harmony of the spheres consists in the claim
that such harmony was imposed on the universe by the Creator. The
beauty of music, including sounding music, is thus traced back to
music's partaking in that divine harmony. John Scottus Eriugena
(c. 800-c. 877) expresses such a view in his
*Periphyseon*, as evident from his very definition of
music:



> 
> 
> Music is the art which by the light of reason studies the harmony of
> all things that are in motion that is knowable by natural proportions.
> (*Periphyseon*, 475B)
> 
> 
> 



That the harmony of the spheres could be interpreted in Christian
terms did not prevent philosophers from rejecting it, especially once
Aristotle's works had become available. Albert the Great
(Albertus Magnus) (c. 1200-1280) is an example of a prominent
philosopher who rejects the idea of a celestial harmony. Appealing to
arguments based on the structure of the cosmos, he discards the idea
that the movement of celestial bodies could produce harmonious sounds
(*Liber de Causis Proprietatum Elementorum*, book II, 2.1; on
the harmony of the spheres in the thirteenth century, see Mews
2011).



The idea that music may influence character was widely accepted over
the course of the Middle Ages. It was supported by the exaggerated
accounts of music's powers that had survived from Antiquity. The
medieval Christian version of the ethos theory normally stresses the
devotional potential of music.


### 2.3 Music among the Liberal Arts



Following Martianus Capella's (fl. c. 410) *The Marriage of
Philology and Mercury*, medieval thinkers classified music as one
of the liberal arts. These were divided into the arts of the
*trivium* (grammar, logic and rhetoric) and the
*quadrivium* (arithmetic, geometry, astronomy and music). The
arts of the *trivium* were referred to as *artes
sermocinales*, because they are related to discourse and language.
The arts of the *quadrivium* were instead the *artes
reales*, studying the mathematical and physical constitution of
the universe. The classification of music as one of the *artes
reales* is unsurprising in light of the Pythagorean-Boethian view
of music as primarily concerned with proportions and harmony.



While this classification remained mostly unchallenged, there were
some important dissenting voices (for an overview, see Dyer 2007).
These disputes regarding the proper classification of music are
important because they reflect underlying concerns with music's
nature and purposes. From the thirteenth century onwards, theorists
and philosophers became more concerned with the practical and acoustic
sides of music-making, and less with its theological implications. For
instance, the English grammarian John of Garland (1195-1272)
distinguishes between plainsong, mensural music, and instrumental
music, and does so on the bases of historical and musicological
differences between such repertoires (see Fubini 1991: 94).



The progressive assimilation of Aristotle's work in medieval
thought meant that the physical, sounding aspects of music began to be
considered as important as its mathematical ones. Evidence of this is
Thomas Aquinas's classification of music as one of the
*scientie medie*, that is, disciplines that apply mathematics
to the study of natural objects (see Dyer 2007: 67-68).


### 2.4 Islamic Philosophy of Music: Al-Kindi, al-Farabi, and Ibn Sina



As observed by Young (forthcoming: chapter 2), it is appropriate to
include medieval Islamic philosophy in a survey of Western musical
thinking, as Islamic philosophers relied largely on the same Greek
authors that were central to the European tradition. In fact,
translations of Greek works were more widely available in the Islamic
world. Partly because of their earlier contact with Aristotle's
philosophy, Islamic philosophers are more inclined to value the
sensory character of music and to accept it as an object of aesthetic
appreciation.



The philosopher al-Kindi (c. 800-870) holds a broadly
Pythagorean view of music (see Shehadi 1995: chapter 1, and Adamson
2007: 172-180). According to him, a relationship of affinity
holds between musical elements and parts of the cosmos. This affinity
allows Kindi to trace correspondences between musical elements and the
extra-musical world. Kindi's acceptance of Pythagorean views is
also exemplified by his claim that music exercises a power of the
human body in virtue of the affinity between its constitution and that
of various musical instruments.



Al-Farabi (872-950) is a notable representative of the
Aristotelian current in medieval Islamic philosophy of music (see
Shehadi 1995: chapter 3). Farabi rejects the harmony of the spheres.
Rather than speculating about music's origin in the structure of
the cosmos, he attempts to understand it as a human phenomenon,
suggesting that vocal music may have developed out of necessities such
as the expression of pleasant and unpleasant states. Farabi also
distinguishes three types of melody, according to the effect it
produces in the listener. Some melodies are pleasing to the ear,
others evoke images, and yet others express psychological states. It
is possible for a melody to do more than one of these things, and in
fact Farabi holds that the best melodies tend to have all three such
effects.



Ibn Sina, known in the West as Avicenna (980-1037) describes
music as a mathematical science, but argues that a theory of music
should be primarily concerned with the explanation of music as heard.
This emphasis on the appropriate level of explanation is reminiscent
of Aristoxenus (see
 SS1.4),
 who exercised a clear influence on Islamic philosophy of music. Ibn
Sina also revives the Aristotelian view that music may imitate human
character and psychological states (on Ibn Sina's philosophy of
music, see Shehadi 1995: chapter 4).


## 3. Early Modern Period


### 3.1 Music and Sensory Pleasure: Tinctoris and Zarlino



From the fifteenth century, writers on music begin to elaborate on the
aesthetic aspects of musical experience. The theorist and composer
Johannes Tinctoris (c. 1435-1511) exemplifies various aspects of
this new outlook on music. He defines harmony and consonance in terms
of their appearance to the listener, rather than through mathematical
notions. Harmony is thus described as the pleasing effect produced by
sounds, whereas consonance and dissonance are respectively
characterized as combinations of sounds that bring sweetness to the
ear or hurt it (*Liber de arte contrapuncti*, chapter 2). In
his *Complexus effectuum musices*, Tinctoris lists prominent
effects of music, most of which involve emotional arousal, while the
dedication of his *Proportionale Musices* refers back to
Antiquity and the alleged emotional potency of its music.



Tinctoris thus prefigures two tendencies typical of early modern
thinking about music: first, the focus on the subjective experience of
music, and on the feelings of pleasure and displeasure that accompany
it; second, the value attributed to music's expressive power,
and the related idea that ancient music's capacity to arouse
emotions was greater than that of the music of their time.



The first of these tendencies is also embodied in the work of Gioseffo
Zarlino (1517-1590). A towering figure in Western music theory,
Zarlino is normally considered as the theorist who initiated the move
away from medieval modality and toward tonal harmony. According to
Zarlino, rules of composition are good insofar as they produce
beautiful music, whose purpose is to "improve" and
"delight" (Zarlino 1558: book III, 71). However, Zarlino
does not reject the role of rationality, and especially of
mathematics, because its laws ultimately underlie the senses of sight
and hearing (Zarlino 1588: 34-36).


### 3.2 Melody and Expression: The Florentine Camerata



In Book II of his *Dodecachordon* (1547), the humanist Heinrich
Glarean (also known as Glareanus) (1488-1563) argues that
composers of polyphonic music are inferior to those who set a single
melodic line to a text. He speculates that the latter was the way
Greeks, Romans, and early Christian communities composed music. Monody
is superior on the grounds that it requires an exercise in invention,
whereas the polyphonist merely borrows a melodic line and then carries
out a task that is predominantly intellectual. According to Glareanus,
monody has a natural character and an expressive immediacy that is
lost in subsequent development. Less than half a century later, both
the reference to a classical model and the vindication of monody
became crucially important in Italian musical thinking and practice.
Toward the end of the sixteenth century, a group of Florentine
intellectuals and musicians gathered around the figure of Giovanni
de' Bardi, a nobleman and amateur musician. This group is
normally referred to as the Florentine Camerata, or Camerata de'
Bardi. Its goal was to recover the expressive potential of music, as
described in ancient Greek and Roman sources. Music's power to
arouse emotions was thought to have been lost during the Middle Ages,
as polyphony developed. The envisaged solution was a return to monody,
and more precisely to a melodic line that would follow and emphasize
the prosodic features of impassioned speech (Palisca 2006: chapter 7;
Palisca 1989 is an influential collection of source readings). Thus,
the main goal of the Camerata seems to have been expression, to be
intended here as the arousal of emotion, while the imitation of speech
prosody was considered a means to that end. This is philosophically
significant in that it indicates a revival of the classical Greek idea
that music is expressive in virtue of its resemblance to the way human
beings express their emotions (see
 SS1.3).



This resulted in the birth of the so-called *stile
rappresentativo*, the vocal style characteristic of early opera,
of which Claudio Monteverdi's (1567-1643)
*L'Orfeo* (1607) is considered the first masterpiece.
Giulio Caccini (1550-1618) and Jacopo Peri (1561-1633)
were active members of the Camerata, and have both left explicit
discussion of the theories that informed their musical style (relevant
textual excerpts are collected in Strunk 1950: 370-392).



While Monteverdi may be considered the most representative musician
associated with this turn to melody and expression, the
Camerata's most significant theoretical figure was Vincenzo
Galilei (c. 1520-1591), an accomplished composer and lutenist,
father of the astronomer Galileo. In his *Dialogue of Ancient and
Modern Music* (1581), Galilei takes issue with contemporary
practices, particularly with counterpoint. He concedes that the
polyphonic music of his time is a source of aural pleasure, but faults
it for its incapacity to move the listener,



> 
> 
> [f]or its sole aim is to delight the ear, while that of ancient music
> is to induce in another the same passion that one feels oneself.
> (Galilei 1581 [1950: 317])
> 
> 
> 



Both Monteverdi and Galilei faced the reaction of more conservative
figures. Giovanni Maria Artusi (c. 1540-1613), in
*L'Artusi or Of the Imperfections of Modern Music*
(1600), attacks the work of an unnamed composer, though it is apparent
that he has in mind composers such as Monteverdi and Carlo Gesualdo
(1566-1613). Artusi concedes that the newly developed monodic
style is expressive, but denies that expression is worth the sacrifice
of compositional rules that are dictated by reason. The dispute
between Artusi and Monteverdi crystallized the clash between the
so-called *prima* and *seconda prattica*, the former
indicating the old polyphonic style, the latter the new preference for
accompanied monody.



Galilei faced criticism from his former teacher Zarlino. In his
*Sopplimenti musicali* (1588), Zarlino argues that the
imitation of impassioned speech belongs to the art of rhetoric or to
declaimed poetry, not music. Musicians should confine themselves to
the imitation of the text's content, rather than to its possible
delivery, and they should do so through the choice of appropriate
harmonies (Zarlino 1588: 316-318). Zarlino's reservations
about expressive melody are of particular importance, as they may be
seen as the first manifestation of a recurring contrast between two
opposite tendencies, epitomized by the clash between Rousseau and
Rameau (see
 SS3.5).
 Whereas one strand locates music's chief source of expression
in melody, the other defends the primacy of harmony, often downplaying
the role of possible resemblances between melodic contour and human
expressive behavior (Young, forthcoming, names the two tendencies
*empiricism* and *rationalism*, respectively, following
their development and occasional overlap).



Despite their disagreements, both approaches valued expression in
music set to a text. A full vindication of the expressive power of
instrumental music was not among the programmatic goals of either the
Camerata or of those who, like Zarlino, stress the importance of
harmonic elements. Caccini is critical of music that obscures the
text, because



> 
> 
> such music and musicians gave no other delight than what harmony could
> give the ear, for, unless the words were understood, they could not
> move the understanding. (Caccini 1600 [1950: 378])
> 
> 
> 



Zarlino, following Plato, claims that melody and harmony should be
suitable to the text, and cashes out this suitability in terms of
similarity:



> 
> 
> we must also make a choice of a harmony and a rhythm similar to the
> nature of the matters contained in the speech in order that from the
> combination of these things, put together with proportion, may result
> a melody suited to the purpose. (Zarlino 1558: book IV, 32 [1950:
> 256])
> 
> 
> 



Moreover, these authors unanimously hold that it is the music that has
to be adapted to a text, rather than the other way around. In the
foreword to Monteverdi's *Scherzi Musicali* (1607), his
brother Giulio Cesare claims that Claudio's goal was "to
make the words the mistress of the harmony and not the servant"
(Monteverdi 1607 [1950: 406]).



While this stress on the priority of the text was the product of a
renewed interest in emotional expression in vocal music, Church
authorities also became concerned with the confused polyphonic styles
and the way they obfuscated liturgical content, and thus they also
promoted textural clarity in polyphonic music (see Fellerer 1953).


### 3.3 Sense and Rationality: Mersenne, Descartes, Leibniz



While it is important to note that the early modern period mitigated
the medieval insistence on a mathematical treatment of music with an
approach that paid greater attention to its sensory appearance, it
would be incorrect to say that the search for mathematical
regularities was altogether abandoned. On the one hand, the budding
scientific outlook favored the extension of the experimental method to
the realm of sound, an operation that obviously included mathematical
modeling. Thus, rather than giving up on mathematical descriptions of
music altogether, early modern theorists abandoned the abstract
framework in which these descriptions had been formulated. On the
other hand, accounts of music in mathematical terms continued to
survive in the metaphysical speculations of music theorists and
philosophers.



Exemplary of these tendencies is the French mathematician Marin
Mersenne (1588-1648), who was interested in a number of
questions connected to the mathematical nature of music. While he
understood the importance of empirical verification, Mersenne was also
convinced of a fundamental harmony between the mathematical order of
music and that of the whole cosmos, as evident from the title of his
most important work, *Harmonie Universelle* (1636).



A particularly interesting theme in this sprawling treatise is the
contrast between the rational structure of music and its sensuous
appearance, best illustrated through Mersenne's discussion of
consonance. Having defined consonance in terms of coincidence in air
vibrations, Mersenne had to explain why consonance and sensory
agreeableness do not always go hand in hand. For instance, the major
third is more agreeable than the fourth, although this is more
consonant. Mersenne had an interesting correspondence with Descartes
on the matter, in which the former manifests his wish to provide a
definition of agreeableness that is as objective as that of
consonance, while the latter expresses skepticism about the project,
and claims that agreeableness is dependent on variation in taste, as
well as in musical context (see Jorgensen 2012).



Early in his life, Rene Descartes (1596-1650) devoted a
treatise to music, the *Compendium Musicae* (written in 1618
and published posthumously in 1650). This work is dominated by
scientific concerns rather than philosophical ones, but the very start
of the treatise is characteristic of its age, as Descartes states that
music's goal is "to please and to arouse various
Affections in us" (Descartes 1650). But Descartes's most
important impact on philosophy of music is actually due to his
treatise on emotions, *The Passions of the Soul* (1649). In
this work, Descartes defines emotions as the result of the action
produced by external objects on the animal spirits, a thin air-like
substance that stirs our passions whenever it is set in motion.
Descartes also distinguishes six basic emotions: wonder, love, hatred,
desire, joy, and sadness.



This taxonomy of emotions and the mechanistic description of their
functioning will prove important to the so-called
*Affektenlehre*, or doctrine of the affections, the eighteenth
century view that a piece of music should arouse a specific emotion in
the listener. *Affektenlehre* theorists believed that this goal
could be achieved through the use of specific musical devices, each
associated with a given emotion. The German composer Johann Mattheson
may be considered the most prominent representative of this tradition.
He explicitly endorses Descartes' theory of emotions in his
treatise *Der vollkommene Capellmeister* (Mattheson 1739: I,
iii, SS51).



Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz (1646-1716), philosopher and
mathematician, devoted to music only scattered observations. Yet, his
view of music's value is of particular interest, as it is
indicative of the attempt to reconcile rational and sensuous elements
in our appreciation of music (see Fubini 1991: 149). Leibniz accepts
that the main goal of music is to move us. In fact, he notes that,
while music is obviously so apt to do so, "this main purpose is
not usually sufficiently noticed or sought after" (Leibniz,
*On Wisdom*). However, Leibniz also specifies that this
sensuous pleasure is the result of the automatic and unconscious
apprehension through music of the rational structure of the universe.
He writes:



> 
> 
> Music charms us, although its beauty consists only in the agreement of
> numbers and in the counting, which we do not perceive but which the
> soul nevertheless continues to carry out, of the beats or vibrations
> of sounding bodies which coincide at certain intervals. (Leibniz 1714:
> 614)
> 
> 
> 


### 3.4 Imitation and Expression in the Eighteenth Century



Two related questions may be asked with regard to imitation in music.
The first is whether music may imitate extra-musical objects, and what
value this imitation may have. The second concerns the role of such
imitation in the musical expression of emotions. Over the course of
the eighteenth century, answers to both questions were characterized
by a growing skepticism toward imitation (see Lippman 1992: chapter
6). The gradual rise of instrumental music was certainly partly
responsible for this change in attitude. Its increasing formal,
melodic, and harmonic complexity made it less plausible to argue that
it imitated the speaking voice, and yet this complexity only
heightened music's power to express and arouse the emotions.



A natural way out of this impasse is to explicitly define expression
in terms of emotional arousal, distinguishing it from the mere musical
depiction of worldly objects, including the external manifestations of
human emotions. This is the option taken by Charles Avison
(1709-1770) in his *Essay on Musical Expression*, first
published in 1752. Avison distinguishes between music resembling
extra-musical objects, including manifestations of emotions, such as
laughter, and music that is able to provoke an emotional response in
the listener. The former case is musical 'imitation',
which Avison claims produces "a reflex act of the
understanding" (Avison 1775: 50), while the latter is
'expression'. Avison argues that the goal of music is to
pursue expression, which is achieved by the competent use of melody
and harmony. While the idea that music is valuable because it moves
the listener was not new, Avison's clarity in decoupling it from
imitation is noteworthy.



However, other theorists were not as explicit and careful as Avison
with their terminology, nor as ready to jettison imitation, which the
eighteenth century considered essential to the fine arts. Moreover, it
had been customary since the Camerata's time to construe
expression as dependent on imitation (see Palisca 2006: chapter 10).
Thus, a number of authors adopted conservative positions, defending a
qualified concept of musical imitation, or simply accepting that
music's imitative capacities are limited. In the second half of
the century, imitation gradually took on a more peripheral role, and
philosophers started to focus on alternative sources of value for
music as an art, from formal structure to emotional arousal.



This gradual rejection of the idea of music as an imitative art is
perhaps best manifested in France. This might seem puzzling, as the
eighteenth century view of imitation as the hallmark of fine arts
found its most famous expression in *The Fine Arts Reduced to a
Single Principle* (1746), by Charles Batteux (1713-1780). In
this work, Batteux defines art as the imitation of beautiful nature
(*belle nature*). Different arts imitate different parts of
nature. Music imitates the human expression of emotions. It is
interesting to note that Batteux repeatedly states that music
*expresses* the emotions, as opposed to imitating them,
although the discrepancy seems to be merely terminological. Batteux
can conceive of music that fails to be imitative, but does not
consider it valuable:



> 
> 
> It would be like a chromatic harpsichord that offers us colours and
> series of colours. It would amuse the eyes, perhaps, but bore the
> mind. (Batteux 1746: part III, section III, chapter 2)
> 
> 
> 



Earlier than Batteux, Jean-Baptiste Du Bos (1670-1742) had
similarly construed music as an imitative art in his *Critical
Reflections on Poetry and Painting* (1719). Du Bos attempts to
show that, in vocal music, melody, harmony, and rhythm all contribute
to the imitation of impassioned speech. Instrumental music imitates
natural sounds instead. While he recognizes that music may charm the
senses, Du Bos thinks that the only valuable response to music is the
one that comes from its appreciation as an imitation. Music may still
please without imitating, but it is only when it imitates that it
really moves. Consequently, Du Bos condemns music that fails to be
imitative.



The Encyclopedists Jean Le Rond D'Alembert (1717-1783) and
Didier Diderot (1713-1784) also hold onto the idea that music is
essentially imitative. D'Alembert states that



> 
> 
> [t]he composers of instrumental music will make nothing but an empty
> noise as long as they do not have in their heads [...] an action
> or an expression to be represented. (D'Alembert 1759:
> XXXVIII)
> 
> 
> 



In the dialogue *Rameau's Nephew* (1760), Diderot claims
that



> 
> 
> [s]ong is an imitation of physical noises or of the accents of the
> passions, through the sounds of a scale invented by art or inspired by
> nature, whichever you please, either with the voice or with an
> instrument. (Diderot 1760: 104ndash;5)
> 
> 
> 



Musical imitation is also defended by Jean-Jacques Rousseau, but in an
importantly qualified version (see the following section).



From the 1770s onwards, the view of music as an imitative art appears
increasingly untenable, and the idea that music is expressive of the
emotions because it imitates human expressive behavior also comes
under attack. This new trend is evident in works such as Andre
Morellet's (1727-1819) *Of Expression in Music and
Imitation in the Arts* (1771), as well as *Musical Expression
Placed Among the Chimeras* (1779). This latter work was written by
Boye, whose biographical details are unknown.
Boye's treatise pairs the rejection of imitation with the
claim that melody and harmony are worthy of appreciation in
themselves:



> 
> 
> The principal object of music is to please us physically, without the
> mind putting itself to the trouble of searching for useless
> comparisons to it. (quoted in Lippman 1992: 95)
> 
> 
> 



The composer and theorist Michel-Paul Guy de Chabanon
(1730-1792) is arguably the most representative and radical
example of the new skeptical mentality. In his *Observations on
Music and Principally on the Metaphysics of Art* (1779), Chabanon
offers a variety of arguments against the idea that the musical
expression of emotions depends on the imitation of their vocal
manifestations. Children respond emotionally to music, he observes,
yet they cannot appreciate musical imitation. The same is true of
individuals who are unfamiliar with the Western musical tradition.
Moreover, imitation is insufficient for expression. For example,
laughter is naturally associated with gaiety, but a musical imitation
of laughter would fail to result in gay music. Thus, music may express
emotions without imitating their external manifestations. Conversely,
Chabanon observes that music may express emotions that do not have any
typical manifestation:



> 
> 
> Many of our passions have no particular cry associated with them, and
> yet music may express them. (Chabanon 1779: VIII)
> 
> 
> 



In addition to the already mentioned Avison, other English writers
questioned the role of imitation in music (see Schueller 1948).
Francis Hutcheson (1694-1746), in *An Inquiry concerning
Beauty, Order, Harmony, Design* (1725), distinguishes between
original and comparative beauty, the former being judged independently
of any comparison, with the latter depending instead on imitation.
According to Hutcheson, music is an example of original beauty,
although its melodic element also allows for comparative beauty, in
that it may resemble impassioned speech. In detecting this
resemblance,



> 
> 
> we shall be touched by it in a very sensible manner, and have
> melancholy, joy, gravity, thoughtfulness excited in us by a sort of
> *sympathy* or *contagion*. (Hutcheson 1725: section VI,
> XII)
> 
> 
> 



This passage is significant because it gives a clear account of how
music may express an emotion (through the imitation of its
characteristic vocal expression), while at the same time arousing it
in the listener.



In his *Observations on the Correspondence between Poetry and
Music* (1769), the Irish writer Daniel Webb (1719-1798)
explains the emotional effects of music by appealing to a
physiological theory of emotions similar to Descartes's.
According to this view, music may give us *impressions*, that
is, it may put us in a state of mind, which may be further specified
by accompanying words. In comparing music with painting and sculpture,
Webb notes that the latter may act on our emotions only through their
imitations, that is, their represented content, whereas music may do
so through both imitations and impressions (Webb 1769: 28). In this
way, Webb acknowledges that the expressive potential of music is
greater than that of the visual arts, and that this privileged
position is not due to imitation.



James Beattie (1735-1803), a Scottish philosopher, voices
concerns similar to those of Chabanon when he observes that there are
emotions that music may express, that do not have a typical vocal
manifestation. On the basis of this, he rejects the view that music is
of necessity imitative, though he concedes that it may be. More
significantly, Beattie claims that there is a crucial difference
between music and the paradigmatically imitative art of painting.
While good paintings are of necessity good imitations, and bad
paintings are necessarily bad ones, good and bad works of music may be
either good or bad imitations (Beattie 1779: part I, chapter VI,
section 1).



The Scottish philosopher Thomas Reid (1710-1796) argues that
perception presents us with sensations, which function as signs of
objective qualities. Some sensations are *artificial* signs,
instituted by human agreement. Such are words--the connection
between 'cat' and the animal sitting on my lap being
arbitrary. Other sensations are *natural* signs, and function
independently of human agency--for instance, the connection
between smoke and fire. Natural signs typically require us to learn
their connection to the signified objective quality, as in the case of
smoke and fire. However, in some cases a natural sign signifies
without requiring prior experience--a child can detect the anger
in an angry face and responds to it immediately. Musical expression is
explicitly described by Reid as an example of this category:



> 
> 
> One kind of music inspires grief, another love, another rage or fury.
> These are all material representations of some affection of the mind.
> None of these are gained by experience. (*Lectures on the Fine
> Arts*, "Mind and Body")
> 
> 
> 



Thus, musical expression "is nothing but the fitness of certain
sounds to produce certain sentiments in our minds" (*Lectures
on the Fine Arts*, "Taste and the Fine Arts"). As for
the imitation of birdsong, battles, and the like, Reid maintains that
these only marginally contribute to the beauty of music. The
importance of Reid's view resides in his philosophically
grounded view of expression, which does not involve imitation at
all.



The economist and philosopher Adam Smith (1723-90) traces a
sharp distinction between vocal and instrumental music. He holds that
the greater the disparity between medium and imitated object, the more
pleasure an imitative art will occasion (*Of the Nature of that
Imitation that Takes Place in what are called The Imitative Arts*,
part I, 6-7). Vocal music may thus only slightly resemble
impassioned speech, but precisely because of this it will delight us
when it successfully imitates it (*Of the Nature of that
Imitation*, part II, 12). Instrumental music, however, lacking a
text and deprived of vocal articulation, cannot imitate any object
successfully, as we can hardly ever recognize anything in it unless
prompted by a description (*Of the Nature of that Imitation*,
part II, 17). Smith develops an alternative view of musical
expression, which he illustrates with an interesting parallel. Just as
a natural landscape may be gloomy without imitating anything, so may
music. In both cases the description 'gloomy' ascribes a
dispositional property, that is, it refers to the capacity the
landscape and piece of music have of making us gloomy (*Of the
Nature of that Imitation*, part II, 23). Once more, expression and
imitation go separate ways.



Although perhaps less radically than their French or English
counterparts, German intellectuals also increasingly questioned the
role of imitation in music.



The philosopher and scientist Johann Georg Sulzer (1720-1779)
still adheres to a rather orthodox view of imitation in music, holding
that music imitates impassioned speech (Sulzer 1774,
"Melody" [1792: III, 370-371; 1995: 91-92]).
He also extends this account to instrumental music, and holds that
music that fails to express emotions is worthless (Sulzer 1774,
"Instrumental music" [1792: II, 677-679; 1995:
95-97]).



Johann Mattheson (1681-1764), the chief *Affektenlehre*
theorist, embraces a Cartesian, physiological explanation of musical
expression as the arousal of emotion produced by music's action
on the animal spirits (this is the standard view of Mattheson's
theory--see Lippman 1992: 115-116; for an alternative
interpretation, see Kivy 1984). Thus, the musician who wishes to
compose music expressive of an emotion will have to conform to the
movements of the animal spirits associated with that emotion. This
view alters the connection between emotional expression and imitation,
as expression is no longer dependent on the imitation of impassioned
speech.



Johann Gottfried von Herder (1744-1803) retains the idea that
music is an imitative art, whose subjects are



> 
> 
> all such things and incidents as are most eminently characterized by
> motion and sound; these include all species of motions, sounds,
> voices, passions expressed through sounds, and so on. (Herder 1769: I,
> 19)
> 
> 
> 



This follows from the nature of music: whereas painting is the art of
spatial coexistence, music is that of succession. It is by respecting
these natural boundaries that the arts may achieve their effects.
Thus,



> 
> 
> music, which works wholly through the succession of time, must never
> make the depiction of objects in space its main object, as
> inexperienced bunglers do. (Herder 1769: I, 16)
> 
> 
> 



There are similarities between Herder's philosophy of music and
Rousseau's. Herder also proposes that today's music and
language may have a common ancestor, the main function of which was
expressive (Herder 1772: part I, section III, 1; Herder 1769: IV,
8).



Herder is skeptical with regard to the role of mathematical or
physical explanations in musical aesthetics, as these fail to explain
our first-person hedonic and emotional responses. Much like Rousseau,
he finds fault in Rameau on these grounds (Herder 1769: IV, 6).
However, Herder does not abandon scientific explanations altogether,
and in fact appeals to physiology to advance his own hypothesis
(Herder 1769: IV, 6). While the details of this proposed explanation
might be uninteresting, it is noteworthy that, by appealing to a
causal explanation, Herder is weakening the link between expression
and imitation.


### 3.5 The Primacy of Melody: Rousseau



Music was a lifelong concern for Jean-Jacques Rousseau
(1712-1778), whose musical writings touch on an impressive
variety of topics, from music notation and theory to core
philosophical concerns such as musical value and expressiveness.
Rousseau was also the author of a remarkably successful opera, *Le
Devin du Village* (1752), performed around four hundred times over
the course of the fifty years following its premiere.



A contributor to Diderot and D'Alembert's
*Encyclopedie* (1751), Rousseau embarked on a systematic
rejection of the views defended by Jean-Philippe Rameau
(1683-1764), the leading music theorist at the time.
Rousseau's rejection of Rameau was not simply a rejection of his
music theory, but rather of the entire musical practice it was
supposed to justify, that is, French music of the time.



Rousseau's *Letter on French Music* (1753) may be seen as
an episode in the so-called *querelle des bouffons*, a dispute
concerning the relative merits of Italian and French opera that was
prompted by the 1752 Paris performance of Giovanni Battista
Pergolesi's *La serva padrona*. In the *Letter*,
Rousseau takes the side of Italian music, holding that its superiority
over French music is ultimately due to the Italian language, which is
more melodious and better articulated than French. French music
attempts to address the shortcoming of its language by adopting
complex harmonic structures, but Rousseau believes that this only
further hinders its expressive potential. He observes how Italian
music is more moving not in spite of its use of chords that are not
completely filled out, but precisely because of this feature. In the
*Letter*, Rousseau also develops the principle of "unity
of melody" (*unite de melodie*), according
to which music ought to present the listener with one single salient
melody at any time, the other voices playing a subsidiary and
supportive role. It is from this melodic unity that music derives its
capacity to move the listener, and in this resides music's
value. The concept of unity of melody is further elaborated in a
dedicated entry of Rousseau's *Dictionary of Music*
(1768), where he also states that his *Devin du Village* was an
attempt to put that principle into practice (Rousseau 1768,
"Unity of Melody"; on unity of melody, see Riley 2004:
chapter 2, and Waeber 2009).



Rousseau's polemical view of harmony as a hindrance to melodic
development, as well as the consequent condemnation of French music,
found a natural target in Rameau, who defended himself on various
occasions (Rameau's responses are collected in Scott 1998; on
the debate, see Verba 2016: chapters 2 and 3). In his
*Traite de l'harmonie* (1722), Rameau had already
stated that melody is merely a part of harmony, and in his subsequent
*Nouveau systeme de musique theorique*, he had
attempted to ground the tonal system in the phenomenon of upper
partial harmonics, the faint overtones that are produced whenever any
note is struck. This means that there is strictly speaking no pure
melody, as no note is ever heard in isolation from the harmonics it
generates. The ascending series of upper harmonics, Rameau argues,
contains the key to tonal harmony. In his *Encyclopedie*
article "Dissonance", Rousseau accepts that harmony may be
partly grounded in the structure of the harmonic series, but presses
Rameau on the origin of the minor third, an interval that is as
crucial to tonal harmony as it is absent from the series. More
important than these technical qualms is Rousseau's fundamental
methodological difference from Rameau. While Rameau's musical
aesthetics depends on a theory of music including mathematical and
physical constructs inaccessible from the mere experience of
listening, Rousseau considers such experience the ultimate judge of
musical value, and holds that it points to melody as the part of music
that is responsible for its emotional impact on the listener (see
O'Dea 1995: 19-20). Insofar as it concerns the appropriate
level of explanation of musical phenomena, the contrast between
Rousseau and Rameau is not unlike the one between Aristoxenian and
Pythagorean approaches to harmonics (see
 SS1.2).



Rousseau's views on the expressive power of music are further
elaborated in his *Essay on the Origin of Languages* (1781), in
which he argues that music and natural languages developed out of a
common source, a language used for the expression of feelings
(Rousseau 1781: chapter XII, "Origin of music"; see Thomas
1995: chapter 5). Following this common origin, both language and
music underwent a process of decay. Languages developed in order to
communicate increasingly complex thoughts, but lost expressive power,
especially after the emergence of writing (Rousseau 1781: chapters
V-VI). Thus, Plato's Greece, Rousseau states, had no
shortage of philosophers, but lacked musicians (Rousseau 1781: chapter
XIX). Regarding this remark, Martinelli (2012 [2019: 62])
observes:



> 
> 
> Anticipating the line of reasoning that would later be adopted by
> Nietzsche, Rousseau openly contrasted music and philosophy, strongly
> undermining the tradition that saw them as sisters.
> 
> 
> 



According to Rousseau, music degenerated along with language and
gradually lost its original expressive power. This happened as free
melodic phrases progressively turned into regimented musical systems,
in which harmony and counterpoint were introduced in order to
compensate for the loss of natural melody (Rousseau 1781: chapter
XIX).



It is tempting, though perhaps imprecise, to see in Rousseau's
view a precursor of the musilanguage hypothesis, recently proposed by
Steven Brown (1999; on this, see Waeber 2013; Mithen 2005 advances a
view similar to Brown's).



As is apparent from his hypothesis concerning the origins of music,
Rousseau thinks that the expression of emotions is music's main
function. A qualified notion of imitation plays a crucial role in
this. While Rousseau accepts the eighteenth century view of art as
imitation (Rousseau 1768, "Imitation"), he is also clear
in stating that musical imitation is different from the kinds we find
in other art forms. Music does not imitate the human passions or other
objects by presenting us with their sonic equivalent, but rather by
arousing in the listener the emotions that the object would give rise
to. In Rousseau's words,



> 
> 
> It will not represent these things directly, but will arouse the same
> movements in the soul that are experienced in seeing them. (Rousseau
> 1768, "Imitation")
> 
> 
> 



It is because of this that musical imitation is not confined to one
sense modality. If painting may represent only objects of sight,



> 
> 
> [m]usic would seem to have the same limits with respect to hearing;
> nevertheless, it portrays everything, even objects which are only
> visible: by an almost inconceivable magic trick it seems to put the
> eye in the ear, and the greatest marvel of an Art that acts only by
> motion is to be able to form even the image of rest. Night, sleep,
> solitude, and silence are counted among Music's great portraits.
> (Rousseau 1768, "Imitation"; similar claims on musical
> imitation are made elsewhere in Rousseau's oeuvre, see Rousseau
> 1768, "Opera", and Rousseau 1781: chapter XVI)
> 
> 
> 



Effectively, the imitation that Rousseau considers central to music is
the arousal of an emotion that is specific enough to be associated
with a given object. Thus, while Rousseau is not skeptical with regard
to music's capacity to imitate worldly objects, he is able to
defend this view because he redefines imitation in terms of emotional
arousal. In this sense, he is still representative of a progressive
shift away from a view of music as imitation.



Despite its charm, Rousseau's view of musical imitation does not
seem to withstand critical scrutiny. It is unconvincing as an
explanation of the musical imitation of emotions. It may be though
that an emotion we perceive always corresponds to another emotion we
feel, and thus that we could depict the former by arousing the latter.
But in fact, we may respond to, e.g., rage with a variety of emotions,
from more rage, to fear, disappointment, schadenfreude, etc. The
theory is only more implausible when it comes to the depiction of
objects other than emotions, as the same object may arouse very
different emotions, depending on the subject's disposition and
beliefs about it.


### 3.6 Music between Form and Content: Kant



While his comments on music are at times disparaged as lacking
artistic sensitivity, Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) is arguably the
first major modern philosopher to discuss instrumental music in the
context of a systematic account of the arts. His influence on
subsequent musical thinking, and particularly on the formalist strand,
is undeniable (see the entry on
 history of western philosophy of music: since 1800, section 1.6),
 but more controversial is whether he himself defends a variety of
formalism. Kant's main discussion of music is contained in the
first section of the *Critique of the Power of Judgment*
(1790), but some remarks are also found in his *Anthropology from a
Pragmatic Point of View* (1798).



Kant's views on music follow from an account of beauty that must
be briefly reconstructed. Kant contrasts the *beautiful*, which
aspires to universality, with the *agreeable*, which is
subjective and idiosyncratic. According to Kant, when we ascribe
beauty to objects we are making judgments of taste. These are
subjective judgments, and include a feeling of pleasure. In this
sense, judgments of taste are quite like judgments of agreeableness.
The beautiful, however, is different from the agreeable in that it
requires disinterested pleasure (*interessenloses
Wohlgefallen*), that is, pleasure that does not presuppose the
existence of its object. For example, I may find beautiful an imagined
tune or painting, but I can't find a refreshing drink agreeable
if I merely think about it (Kant 1790: SS2).



As they do not depend on concepts, and essentially include a
subjective element of pleasure, judgments of taste are non-cognitive,
and cannot therefore aspire to the same general validity as, say,
mathematical proofs. However, judgments of taste are universal. When
one judges an object to be beautiful, one is also at the same time
asserting that anyone ought to find it beautiful (Kant 1790:
SS6-7). This again stands in contrast with the agreeable.
When I judge the taste of calvados to be pleasant, I am not requiring
general assent; in contrast, the pleasure associated with a work of
music is one I expect anyone to feel--it is a beautiful piece of
music.



The non-conceptual universality of judgments of taste is grounded in
what Kant calls "the free play of the imagination and the
understanding" (Kant 1790: SS9). Ordinary perceptual and
cognitive activities require the cooperation of imagination and
understanding (here it is important to keep in mind that Kant
considers imagination to be involved in perception) but in these cases
imagination is guided by concepts. In the free play required by
judgments of taste, imagination and understanding interact
unconstrained by concepts, but in a way that is common to all human
beings (Kant 1790: SS20 ff.).



Kant distinguishes between agreeable and beautiful arts. While both
involve pleasure, agreeable arts merely aim at arousing enjoyment,
whereas beautiful arts involve cognition (Kant 1790: SS44). The
apparent ambiguity in Kant's remarks on music runs so deep that
he may seem to contradict himself even on the status of music as a
beautiful art. He lists *Tafelmusik* (light music composed to
be a background accompaniment to dining) alongside the art of telling
amusing stories and jokes as an example of agreeable art, and adds
that this kind of music is supposed to encourage conversation
"without anyone paying the least attention to its
composition" (Kant 1790: SS44). In the "Remark"
that concludes the first section of the *Critique*, Kant once
more lists music alongside the joke as an agreeable art. However,
elsewhere in the same work Kant clearly counts music a beautiful art,
ranking it alongside poetry and painting (SS44, 191). More
importantly, Kant discusses music in SS51, where he introduces his
division of the beautiful arts. Samantha Matherne (2014:
135-138) has argued that Kant's apparent hesitation is
actually grounded in a different attitude we may take to music. If we
attend to the bodily effect of the piece, music will be merely
agreeable, whereas a focus on the formal structure of the work will
make possible a judgment of taste, and thus music may be found
beautiful.



A final point on musical beauty is worthy of mention. Kant
distinguishes between free and adherent (*anhangend*)
beauty. Adherent beauty presupposes a concept of the object's
purpose. Thus, a work of architecture is judged beautiful or not
according to its success or otherwise in housing people, institutions,
or businesses. The resulting judgment of taste is characterized by
Kant as impure. Free beauty does not presuppose any concept. As
examples of free beauty, Kant mentions abstract patterns, and
instrumental music, "indeed all music without a text"
(Kant 1790: SS16). In general, when Kant discusses music he has
pure instrumental music in mind. If one considers that previous
thinkers devoted almost exclusive attention to vocal music, this is a
significant shift in focus, and one that will be confirmed by the
philosophy of music following Kant.



A further ambiguity is represented by Kant's apparent commitment
both to a variety of musical formalism, according to which musical
beauty uniquely resides in the relationship between its component
parts, and to the idea that music is expressive of emotions. This is a
manifestation of a general tension in Kant's aesthetics (see
Guyer 1977). A formalist tendency is evident when Kant claims that the
proper object of the pure judgment of taste in music is composition,
by which he means the arrangement of tones (Kant 1790: SS14).
Later on, Kant states that music "merely plays with
sensations" (Kant 1790: SS53), offering this in support of
his claims regarding music's low rank among the arts.



Despite these apparent professions of formalism, Kant also stresses
music's connection to the sphere of emotions. Particularly, he
seems to accept a version of the *Affektenlehre*, according to
which works of music may arouse specific emotions in the listener. In
SS53, Kant affirms that music may convey an emotion because of its
analogy with the tone of voice typical of impassioned speech (see also
Kant 1798: SS18).



In the face of these textual ambiguities, an option is to adopt a
formalist interpretation and hold that Kant was merely paying lip
service to the *Affektenlehre* (Kivy 2009: 50 ff.; Schueller
1955: 224-25). However, other scholars deny that Kant was a
formalist. Young (2020) attributes to him an imitation theory of
expressiveness: music imitates the tones characteristic of impassioned
speech. Matherne (2014) attempts to reconcile formalist and
expressivist elements in Kant's thought. Crucial to her
interpretation is the concept of an aesthetic idea, which Kant defines
as



> 
> 
> that representation of the imagination that occasions much thinking
> though without it being possible for any determinate thought, i.e.,
> concept, to be adequate to it. (Kant 1790: SS49)
> 
> 
> 



Aesthetic ideas are imaginative representations that cannot be
exhausted by any given concept--think of an abstract painting and
of the multitude of things it could look like or symbolize. Aesthetic
ideas are crucially involved in our experience of the beautiful, and
Kant goes as far as to define beauty as the expression of aesthetic
ideas (Kant 1790: SS51). In his discussion of music, Kant states
that the form of a composition--he explicitly mentions
"harmony and melody"--expresses



> 
> 
> the aesthetic ideas of a coherent whole of an unutterable fullness of
> thought, corresponding to a certain theme, which constitutes the
> dominant affect in the piece. (Kant 1790: SS53)
> 
> 
> 



Here the expression of a piece's overarching emotional
character, a central concern for the *Affektenlehre*, is
explicitly linked to the piece's formal structure. Matherne
(2014: 134) concludes that Kant is defending what she terms
"expressive formalism", a view according to which music is
able to express aesthetic ideas pertaining to the realm of emotions,
and does so by means of its formal structure.



Kant's view of music's relative value as an art has also
been an object of critical attention (Weatherston 1996; Parret 1998).
Kant ranks the arts according to two distinct criteria. When it comes
to "charm and movement of the mind" (Kant 1790: SS53),
music is first among all of the arts, as it arouses emotions more
deeply than any other art form. It is clear that Kant does not
consider this criterion particularly important to artistic value.
Additionally, music occupies the bottom of the hierarchy when one
ranks the arts according to the second criterion, that is, "in
terms of the culture that they provide for the mind" (Kant 1790:
SS53). To provide culture for the mind is described by Kant as to
contribute to the enlargement of the faculties of imagination and
understanding--think again of an abstract painting, and how it
may enrich our capacity to give visible form to some ideas.



While they may raise various difficult interpretive issues,
Kant's views on music have more than a purely historical
interest. Some contemporary commentators and philosophers of music
have suggested that they might be brought to bear on current debates
(see Bicknell 2002; Ginsborg 2011: 337; Matherne 2014:
139-140).



Regardless of whether Kant's formalism is or not a nineteenth
century construction, his awareness of music's purely formal
aspect signals a change in Western philosophy of music. Vocal music is
no longer the center of theoretical speculation. The philosophical
problems that music poses are first and foremost those posed by pure
instrumental music, and it is its nature that must be clarified if one
is to understand music's relation to language, concepts, and
emotions.