UTRECHT UNIVERSITY
Faculty of Humanities
Musicology Curriculum
Emotions in Music
A Critical Review of Prevailing Arousal Theories in Musicology
Diederik de Ceuster
(3731669)
Block 3-4, 2013-2014
Date: 20 June 2014
Supervisor: drs. H.J.M. Langenkamp, MA
Table of Contents
Introduction
1
Chapter 1: Meyer vs. Kivy
1.1 Meyer’s Theory
3
1.2 Kivy’s Theory
6
1.3 Chopin’s Prelude in A minor (Op. 28, No.2)
10
Chapter 2: Current Emotion Theories
2.1 Robinson’s Theory
14
2.2 Spitzer’s Theory
15
2.3 Bruckner’s Adagio (String Quintet in F major)
16
Conclusion
24
References
26
Introduction
Most people have, at some point in their life, felt affected by listening to music. Music
can arouse emotions in you so deeply and moving that it might make you shiver, wonder
in amazement or even weep. There is a strong connection between the emotions in you,
the listener, and the music you are listening to, but the exact form and operation of this
connection is far from clear. Is it possible emotions are inherent to music? Or do we
merely project our emotions onto music? It is clear music is capable of arousing strong
emotions, but there is little consensus on how these emotions are aroused.
In 1956 Leonard B. Meyer opened the door to these questions with his book
Emotion and Meaning in Music. In a time when score-based analysis ruled the world of
musicology, Meyer theorized about how music can arouse emotions in the listener. His
theory is predicated on the assumption that while listening to music, a certain expectation
of how the music will develop will arise. This expectation, shaped by the listener’s
experience and cultural practices at large, can be fulfilled, delayed or neglected. In the
last two cases, Meyer argues, tension will be created and affects will be aroused.
Some years later, Peter Kivy, among other theorists like Stephen Davies, opposed
Meyer’s theory, contending emotions are not aroused by an expectation-cycle, but by the
beauty of the musical form. According to Kivy, it is possible to recognize emotions in
music, since the contour of emotions in human expression have similarities with various
musical aspects. This does not mean the music itself is sad in any way, but it still remains
merely a rendition of sounds. Kivy argues sad music does not necessarily make one sad,
but arouses another kind of emotion, which might be called awe or amazement (Kivy
1980, 71-84, 121).
Nowadays, this debate is still lively. In the last decades, new theories moving
within the premises of Kivy and Meyer were presented by several musicologists. New to
the debate were the results of empirical research conducted by researchers like Klaus R.
Scherer, James O. Young and Stefan Koelsch. This thesis provides a critical review of
academic discourse on music and emotion since Meyer’s seminal 1956 publication.
In one of his books, Oliver Sacks opens by explaining why people tend to love
music with the following quote by Arthur Schopenhauer: “The inexpressible depth of
music, so easy to understand and yet so inexplicable, is due to the fact that it reproduces
all the emotions of our innermost being, but entirely without reality and remote from its
pain. Music expresses only the quintessence of life and of its events, never these
themselves” (Sacks 2007, 12). Schopenhauer is quoted frequently by various
musicologists, including Kivy, and his theories can be explained in many ways. I would
like to interpret this quote in the following way: when music is expressive of sadness, it
1
does not arouse a feeling of grief or longing, but it might create an aesthetic feeling that
is, pace Meyer and Kivy, linked to the core of your emotions. My hypothesis is that there
is a relationship between the expressed emotions in music and the aroused emotions in
the listener. This hypothesis will be tested by applying several emotion theories on an
analysis of Frédéric Chopin’s Prelude in A minor (Op. 28, No. 2) and the Adagio from
Anton Bruckner’s String Quintet in F major (WAB 112). I have to warn the reader in
advance that a definitive, evidence-based answer to this question will not be provided
here. This question is as much philosophical as music-theoretical, to which the answer
will be an interpretation of some of the many theories and views in the field of music and
emotion research.
In the first chapter I will explain the emotion theories of Meyer and Kivy by means
of an analysis of Chopin’s Prelude and find the value and shortcomings of both theories.
In the second chapter I will introduce more recent theories about the relationship between
the expressed and the aroused emotions during music listening, using the Adagio from
Anton Bruckner’s String Quintet in F major as a case study. Chopin’s Prelude and
Bruckner’s Adagio are illustrative of both the working and the inadequacies of the
mentioned theories and, as such, excellent case studies for this thesis.
As to give an overview to what extent the theories discussed are supported by
empirical evidence, the results from cognitive and psychological research in the field of
the arousal of emotions in music are included as well in my discussion. Even though the
recognition of expressed emotions has been amply researched over the years, the research
on the evoked emotions is relatively young. The cognitive research on the relationship
between the evoked emotions by music started to flourish only in the last two decades.
The resources are thus limited, but very informative nonetheless.
The discussion on how music can arouse emotions in the listener is still relevant
today. The outcome of this discussion could be useful for the music industry; the more
knowledge you have on your product, the easier it is to sell and promote it. It also
contributes to the discussion on the value of art in a society in general — a discussion that
is now livelier than ever in the Netherlands with all the reforms and budget cuts the
national government executed over the last years.
2
Chapter 1 - Meyer vs. Kivy
1.1 Meyer’s theory
To understand Meyer’s theory more fully, we first have to take a look at the psychological
theory of emotions that underlies the expectation-theory posed by Meyer. According to
this psychological theory, it is possible to make a distinction between emotional states of
mind and non-emotional states of mind. These states are linked to tendencies of response
when a subject meets an object or a certain situation. When an object or situation calls for
no response, we will stay in our non-emotional, neutral state of mind. When a tendency to
respond is felt and this response can be given without any difficulties, an emotional
response will not occur either. Yet, when a tendency to respond is felt but inhibited,
affects will be aroused.
Meyer explains this with the example of the habitual smoker. When the habitual
smoker feels the need to smoke while being at the right place to smoke, somewhere
outside, with cigarettes and a lighter in his pocket and enough time on his hands to take a
five-minute break, the smoker will stay in the non-emotional neutral state of mind. When
the same habitual smoker would feel the need to smoke and reach in his pockets to find
them empty, and there is no one around to lend him a cigarette, the stores are closed and
there is simply no possibility for him to smoke right at that moment, he is ought to
respond in an emotional way. In short: emotions are aroused when a tendency, whether
physical or mental, cannot reach fulfilment (Meyer 1956, 13-22).
At first, this theory seems to serve as an explanation for just the negative emotions,
like anger and irritation. The pleasant emotions, however, can be explained with this
model as well. The pleasant emotions are aroused when the tendency is resolved, or
rather when there is belief in the resolution of the tendency. For if the tendency would be
pleasant only when it is resolved, we would only know afterwards whether an affect was
pleasant or not, but we already feel positivity or negativity while experiencing the affect
(Meyer 1956, 20).
It is important to note that Meyer believes a significant part of the emotions are
designated by culture, traditions and habits. Emotional responses vary from culture to
culture, even from subculture to subculture. Emotional behaviour is far from universal.
One person alone might respond differently to the same object at different times and
situations, for the tendencies to respond are influenced by a complex of factors that will
all affect the emotional outcome (Meyer 1956, 20-22).
How does this apply to music? Meyer states that while listening to music the
listener has tendencies to respond likewise. The listener has, either consciously or
3
unconsciously, certain expectations on how the music will develop. These expectations
can be viewed as tendencies to respond, making the process of listening an active one.
The tendency of the habitual smoker who reaches in his pocket for a cigarette to find it
empty can indeed be seen as an expectation not being satisfied. Since music creates
expectations in us too, these can be delayed or inhibited in the same manner, and,
consequently, lead to an emotional response.
The listener’s expectations are formed by the culture and tradition he is part of.
Meyer gives a clear example of a very specific expectation a listener is ought to have. In
the sequence shown in Example 1, a specific chord, namely, the tonic ( C major) is
expected on the first beat of the next measure (Meyer 1956, 25-26).
Example 1
Another good example of how expectations are formed can be found in the
phrasing. In the Classical composition style, for example, it is common to start a theme
with an antecedent phrase ending on a weak cadence, followed by a consequent phrase of
the same melodic material ending on a strong cadence. In these cases, the antecedent
strongly creates an expectancy of the consequent (Meyer 1956, 26). Exemplary of this
sentence construction is the theme of Beethoven’s setting of Schiller’s “Ode an die
Freude” (Ode to Joy), which follows a “quatrain” pattern (aaba). The melody starts with
an antecedent (the first phrase), creating an opening for the consequent (the second
phrase). Subsequently, a third phrase develops the theme until the last phrase, very similar
to the second, makes a final closure. The anticipation of the third phrase on the fourth
phrase with its slight variations, can be seen as a small disruption of our expectations.
4
Example 2 Ludwig van Beethoven, “Ode to Joy” from Symphony No. 9, Op. 125
A different example of an expectancy-pattern in phrasing put forward by Meyer is
the so-called “gap-fill pattern.” When a melody starts with a large interval (a gap), we
expect the following notes to fill this gap. A good example of this is the popular song
“Over the Rainbow” by Harold Arlen and Edgar Y. Harburg. It starts off with a leap of an
octave, after which the notes in between are gradually filled in. When the listener hears
such a leap, he immediately expects a filling motive to follow (Meyer 1956, 128).
Example 3 Harold Arlen and Edgar Y. Harburg, "Over the Rainbow"
At other times, the expectation is less specific. For example, an expectation of
change can arise when a certain motive has been repeated several times. We would not
have a specific expectation on how it will change. Overall, the expectation-tendency can
be seen as a state of suspense (Meyer 1956, 23-32). It is important to bear in mind that an
arrestment of expectations in Meyer’s sense does not infer that the musical development
is always a complete surprise. Rather, one might say there are several turns the music can
take, some of which might be more expected than others. When the composer chooses a
less expected option, an arrestment of expectations occurs in the listener.
David Huron has given an elaborate, modern adaption of Meyer’s theory in his
book Sweet Anticipation. Next to extensive musical analysis, Huron conducted a
psychological research where he examined if listeners have a positive emotional reaction
5
when their expectations in the music are fulfilled. This is what Huron calls the sweet
anticipation. According to Huron, these expectations are often based on heuristic
knowledge, that is knowledge of the unwritten, imperfect rules about what is likely to
happen next (Huron 2006, 91).
1.2 Kivy’s theory
Kivy refers to Meyer’s theory as “the hypothesis-game.” In Kivy’s reading of Meyer’s
theory, the expectations of the listener can be compared to the expectations a reader of a
novel has on how the narrative will develop. The listener will frame a certain expectation,
both in musical syntax as in musical form, and these expectations, too, are shaped by the
traditions and culture the listener is part of. When all of his expectations will be fulfilled
with no surprises whatsoever, the music, however soothing and comfortable it may be,
will be boring, dull, lifeless elevator music; no emotions can be aroused. On the other
hand, when the music is incomprehensible to the listener he would not know what to
expect or would get frustrated by the lack of satisfaction of all of his expectations. Ideally,
a good mean value is pursued (Kivy 2002, 73).
In contrast, Kivy’s expectation-theory takes a cue from what he calls the “hide-andseek-game.” While the listener is framing a hypothesis and testing his hypothesis
listening to the music, he would also feel the urge to find the melodies in the musical
structure. The “hide” part of the game is lying at the composer’s desk: “It is the
composer’s task to vary these melodies, hide them, alter them, dismember them, and
generally give the listener puzzles to solve.” The combination of these two games is what
makes listening to music pleasurable to us (Kivy 2002, 73-88).
But do these expectation-theories explain the arousal of our emotions by music? Is
the delay or arrestment of the fulfilling of our expectations what makes the music so
beautiful? So intriguing that it makes you shiver? Kivy thinks not, or at least he thinks
there is more to it.
Kivy argues that in a novel we do not merely gain satisfaction in finding out how
the plot will unravel, but we also find value in the specific descriptions, the choice of
words, the conversations, character development, metaphors, etc. It is a complex of
factors that altogether make a book beautiful to read or not. So even though the play with
our expectations takes an immense part in our appreciation of music, it is not limited to
just that. According to Kivy, it is the beauty of the craftsmanship that triggers an
emotional response. The appreciation of the ingenuity and artistry of a composition
creates a feeling of awe or amazement (Kivy 2002, 157-158).
It can be contended that Meyer argues emotions are aroused at specific moments in
a musical piece, whereas Kivy argues emotions can be aroused over the course of the
6
whole piece. This aspect of Kivy’s theory is supported by recent empirical data. In a
large-scale psychological research conducted by Alf Gabrielsson, listeners were asked to
describe their strong experiences of music. The subjects were asked to describe the
emotions they felt during such an experience, and how they thought these emotions were
evoked. The results showed a mixture of aroused emotions and a combination of factors
responsible for the arousal. “Rather than indicating specific moments in the music, many
respondents more generally referred to musical factors such as timbre (e.g. an unusual
instrument or unusual combination of instruments), loudness/dynamics (e.g. crescendo,
diminuendo), tempo (e.g. accelerando), mode (e.g. transition minor to major), rhythm
(often in connection with dancing), beautiful melodies and harmonies, thick texture,
increasing tension followed by relaxation and still others” (Gabrielsson 2001, 443).
Kivy’s theory has been widely supported by theorists. Some of them even stated
music is not able to be expressive of emotions at all. For example, Nick Zangwill argued
that emotions in music can only be seen as metaphors for musical constructions. These
metaphors are merely a conventional manner of describing different techniques, in the
same manner terms like height and motion in music are metaphorical (Zangwill 2007,
391-400).
Neither Meyer nor Kivy believe that there is a relationship between the emotive
properties of music and the arousal of emotions. Kivy does, however, provide a theory on
how emotions can be expressed and why we recognize emotive properties in music.
In his most famous book The Corded Shell (1980) Kivy makes a clear distinction between
“to express” and “to be expressive of”. He explains this distinction as follows: If I were to
be full of anger, I could shout and clench my fists to express my anger to whomever it
may concern. Nonetheless, when I shout and clench my fist when I am not angry, these
will not be expressions of anger. Therefore, to express anger I have to be angry. The same
applies to any other emotion. It is not uncommon to project emotions like anger, sadness
or happiness onto music. We call the second movement of Beethoven’s Seventh
Symphony sad and the Turkish March in the Ninth Symphony happy. We say the music is
expressing these emotions, but how can music express sadness or happiness when music
itself, obviously, cannot be sad or happy about anything?
The proper way to describe the emotive properties of music would be to say that
music is expressive of sadness instead of expressing sadness. This distinction is better
understood with the example Kivy provides of the Saint Bernhard’s face. The face of the
Saint Bernard dog generally looks sad to us. It resembles the expression of a human face
when being sad. By no means does this mean the Saint Bernard dog is always sad. He has
the same drooping face when he is showing happiness (by wagering its tail and jumping
up and down). Yet, we recognize a sad face (Kivy 1980, 12-14).
7
The same can be stated of sad music. We hear resemblances with the human
expression of sadness, especially with the expressions in body language and contour
(Kivy 1980, 53). The contour theory cannot, however, explain the expressiveness of
major and minor chords, chromatic notes or the overall expressiveness of harmony.
According to Kivy, we recognize this expressiveness due to conventions and traditions in
Western music. The contour-theory and the conventions form the expressiveness in music
together (Kivy 1980, 82-83).
Now, back to the example of the Saint Bernard’s dog, it is safe to say one does not
necessarily get sad by looking at the dog’s face. According to Kivy, in music, we do not
drop in a state of sadness when listening to melancholic music. The aesthetic experience
of feeling awe is often confused with feeling melancholy for the music. We can be moved
by how beautifully melancholic a musical work can be, but it is not melancholy we feel
(Kivy 2001, 155-167). Kivy states that music can startle you, exhilarate you or bring you
to tears, but these affects have nothing to do with emotions like anger, pride or grief.
When perceiving music as beautifully melancholic or beautifully fearful or beautifully
cheerful, one will be moved to a high state with emotional excitement. This excitement is
the aroused emotion (Kivy 2001, 133-134).
According to Kivy, if emotions are felt when listening to music, these emotions are
definitely not inherent to the music. Even though Kivy has shown some skepticism
towards his own contour theory later on, his theory should not be discharged immediately.
Recent psychological research showed that his theory on how we can recognize emotions
in music is very likely to be true. Empirical data showed that listeners are equally good at
decoding expressions in human contours as in musical expressiveness. As James O.
Young pointed out, there are many resemblances between human expression and musical
expression (Young 2012 587 - 605). The distinction made by Kivy between the expressed
and the aroused emotions is supported, for example, by the research of Ai Kawakami and
Klaus R. Scherer. With his psychological research, Kawakami demonstrated that the
evoked emotions by music often differ from the perceived emotions by the listener. For
example, when music is perceived as sad, the evoked emotions are of a more romantic
nature, i.e., blithe and nostalgia (Kawakami et al. 2013, 4-8).Scherer calls the vicarious
aroused emotions the “aesthetic emotions,” distinct from the daily utilitarian emotions.
The emotions aroused by music differ from our everyday emotions since they have no
object of emotion. It is not related to any personal events. It is still associated with
sadness, but without reality, the pain and unpleasantness is gone. What remains are the
ambivalent romantic emotions (Scherer 2004, 241). These aesthetic emotions can be
described as awe, wonder, feelings of harmony, bliss, rapture, solemnity, enthusiasm,
fascination and the like (Zentner et al. 2008, 500).
8
Stephen Davies’s version of the contour-theory is slightly different since he does
not see any resemblance between melodies and human speech. According to Davies, the
resemblance can be found in the motion of music and the motion of people, that is, the
movements people make through space and time. Davies stresses that musical movement,
like the human motion and gestures, have order, unity and purposiveness (Davies 1994,
228-240). Unlike Kivy, Davies states that the composer can in fact make use of the
contour theory to express emotions. A composer can choose a certain sound, progression
or motive with an emotional connotation over another. A composer has a say in what
expressiveness can be heard in his music (Davies 1994, 267-277).
Davies also suggests the expressed emotions can in fact arouse similar emotions in
the listener. Davies portrays this as a contagious reaction to the recognized emotions. It is
similar to the situation where your friend has a smile on his face and you tend to smile
and feel happy as well, even though you do not have a specific object of your happiness.
You are merely mirroring the other’s expressions. The same applies when your friend is
showing melancholy. You can sympathize with him and feel miserable as well, even
though you do not know the reason, or object, of his melancholy. We tend to sympathize
with his expressions, rather than with his actual felt emotions (Davies 1994, 311-316).
According to Davies, the aroused emotions can be better described as “moods” rather
than real felt emotions. We tend to get in a mood of melancholy listening to sad music
and in a mood of happiness when listening to happy music. The expression of the
emotion is then your object of emotion (Davies 2013, 170).
Davies’s theory was attacked by Kivy, among others, by arguing that in most cases
a mirroring response is not the most logical one. When your friends expresses sadness by
crying, a response of tenderness is more likely and the most logical response to another
one’s anger is likely to be fear or hostility. Moreover, is it appropriate to state it works the
same with non-human expression? When we go back to the example of the Saint Bernard
dog, we do not feel melancholy even though his face expresses melancholy. And in
music, we do not feel miserable when feeling to sad music. If it would, why would
anyone listen to sad music?
Nonetheless, a recent cognitive research, conducted by Stefan Koelsch, brought
forward some supporting results for Davies’s theory. In his study, the brain activity while
listening to music was measured. Koelsch showed that the induced emotions are in a way
related to the everyday emotions. For example, when a listener is moved by a piece
recognized as sad music, the corrugator muscle, which is related to the feeling of sadness
in everyday emotions, shows activity (Koelsch 2014, 176). However, the exact relation
between the different kinds of emotions is not clear. The problem with cognitive research
is that we are able to map the specific activities in the brain, but we cannot explain the
9
relationships and the explicit functions of those activities (Brattico and Pearce 2013, 57).
Koelsch’s results demonstrate that Kivy's theory is not sufficient. The aroused emotions
are not just feelings of awe, an appreciation of the craftsmanship of the composer, but
much deeper and more complex ones, in a way related to our everyday emotions.
In order to get an understanding of the application of Meyer’s and Kivy’s theories
to musical analysis, a brief analysis of Chopin’s Prelude in A minor, Op. 28, No. 2, will
be provided here.
1.3 Chopin’s Prelude in A minor (Op. 28, No. 2)
Richard Taruskin calls it “a deliberately, fancifully ugly or absurd utterance.” (Taruskin
2005, 353). Michael R. Rogers, describes the prelude as “beginning obscurities and
subsequent meanderings” (Rogers 1981, 245). Indeed, the harmonic progression in
Chopin’s Prelude in A minor (Op. 28 No. 2) is at many points intangible. Can we even
speak of expectation in a work like this?
Example 4 Frédéric Chopin, Prelude in A minor (Op. 28 No. 2)
10
Following the example of Johann Sebastian Bach who wrote his preludes and
fugues in the Well-Tempered Clavier in all major and minor keys, Chopin’s Opus 28
covers all keys in 24 preludes. Unlike Bach, Chopin orders his keys by the circle of fifths.
Starting with C major, every major key is followed by its relative minor. Logic dictates
then, that the second prelude is set in A minor. Yet, A minor is by no means the key we
hear at the start of the prelude. In fact, we do not hear it until the very last two chords.
Starting off with an E minor chord obfuscated by the leading tone for the fifth
(A#), the harmonic progression takes a turn to G, the relative major of E minor in mm. 45. Chopin makes constant use of tones outside the harmony (A# in the E minor triad in
mm. 1-4, a G# in m. 5 etc.), which can be heard as “doubt and uncertainty in the shaping
of aesthetic affective experience” (Meyer 1989, 218-226).
After the first phrase, a parallel of the first few measures starts in m. 8. The second
phrase starts with the same note at which the first phrase ends. This causes a feeling of
motion and continuation creating an expectation in the listener. The second phrase seems
to be a repetition of the first, but a fifth higher (starting on B minor and ending on D
major) — a common harmonic progression in Classical-Romantic voice-leading.
However, at the moment we expect the A major chord in m. 10 to solve into D major in
m. 11, the D is altered to a D#, pulling the harmony back towards E. The motion of
continuation in the harmony is arrested at this point, leaving the listener in limbo as to
what to expect next. Harmonically, the third phrase alludes to a dominant preparation for
A, but this expectation is thwarted by the melodic development. Melodically, too, the
third phrase’s initial A inhibits the sense of continuation. The listener, Meyer argues,
would expect the third phrase to start on F#, the last note of the second phrase, since this
was the case with the previous phrase. Yet, it starts on an A instead (Meyer 1956, 94).
This small change in pattern can be comprehended as a small stretch of the melodic
motive. This technique, used for extra intensity, was not uncommon for composers in the
era of Romanticism (Meyer 1989, 259-272).
Yet, not only is the pitch of the first note of the phrase unexpected, its timing is
surprising as well. The note comes at the second beat of the measure. This placement
feels odd, as we would expect it at the accented first beat of the measure instead of the
unaccented second. Also, the length of the first note of this phrase is much longer than
that of the first notes of the previous phrases. For a brief moment, the first-time listener
might even wonder if a similar phrase will come at all or if a new motive will be
introduced. With the harmonically confirmed E major chord in m. 21-22, this what
Taruskin called “harmonic vagary” seems to rest on what might be heard as a Picardian
cadence. Yet, as the chord resounds, it is supplemented by a D, making it a dominant
seventh chord for the A minor with which the prelude is brought to its final conclusion.
11
The prelude could have ended on E and it is not until the penultimate chord that the
listener expects a final cadence on A minor. Meyer does not seem to mind and explains
the prelude simply as a progression from G to D to A. In whatever way it is explained, the
harmonic progression is an unexpected one nonetheless. New conventions were made
with the beginning of Romanticism. An open form like this one, continuous processes and
gradual change became significant style features (Meyer 2000, 247-251).
Thus, as Meyer would state, both in the harmonic and melodic progression the
listener’s expectations are not met and at those points tendencies to respond are triggered
and affect is aroused.
Example 5 Harmonic Analysis of Chopin’s Prelude in A minor (Op. 28 No. 2)
So far Meyer’s theory seems viable. Yet, given the openness of its form, it is
questionable to what extent expectations are actually created, both harmonically and
melodically. The harmony is unexpected in the sense that no expectations were formed at
all. We can only find an arrestment of expectations in the melody. Following Meyer’s
theory, the arousal of emotions by this prelude would rely completely on the irregularity
in phrasing. This does not seem to be a sufficient explanation for the affects the preludes
might have on us. The non-harmonic tones, for example, which give the prelude its dark
and gloomy character, seem to be just as important, perhaps even more important, in the
arousal of emotions. As Kivy argues, looking solely at harmony and voice-leading, the
role of important features such as timbre and dynamics may be missed.
Looking back at Kivy’s theory and we can apply his “games” to the prelude. The
hypothesis-game can be described as the arrested expectations of the phrases; when we
12
hear the first phrase a hypothesis is created on how the next phrase will develop. The
hide-and-seek-game can be described as the search for this phrase. Since this is only a
small prelude, there is not much to alter and hide in it. We can observe Kivy’s hide-andseek-game better in the Adagio of Bruckner, of which an analysis is given in Chapter 2.
Regarding Kivy’s contour theory, it is not far-fetched to see the resemblance between a
slow walking rhythm and the continuing motive in the left hand of Chopin’s prelude. The
melody, moving down slowly, resembles emotional speech.
So who is right? Meyer or Kivy? Of course, this question cannot be answered as easily as
it is posed. In light of the complexity of the process of music listening and the lack of
consensus in the musicological field, one might say it is not a right or wrong question.
Rather, one has to speak in terms of plausibility. We will return to this question later. Now
that the ground principles and limits of both Meyer’s theory and the more formalistic
view of Kivy have been expounded, time has come to turn to the more recent theories on
the expression and arousal of emotions in music.
13
Chapter 2 – Current Emotion Theories
2.1 Robinson’s theory
In the previous chapter I showed that Meyer’s theory does not suffice, for the play with
our expectations alone cannot explain the arousal of the deep and complex emotions that
may occur. Other important features such as texture, timbre and articulation are just as
important and should not be left out in an analysis of emotion-evoking qualities in the
music. The theory by Kivy seems inadequate as well. As Koelsch demonstrated, a
relation between the aroused and the perceived emotions can be found when looking at
the brain activities while listening to music. It may be derived from Koelsch’s data that
the aroused emotions are not just feelings of appreciation. Davies’s theory of emotional
contagion seems more adequate. However, Scherer showed with his psychological
research that the emotions perceived in the music are not equal to the experienced
emotions by the listener.
Thus, there seems to be a striking contradiction. The emotions induced in the
listener are not equal to the emotions he perceives, yet somehow there is a correlation
between the two. Several musicologists have tried to tackle this problem with
modifications of Kivy’s and Meyer’s theories.
In her book Deeper Than Reason (2005) Jenefer Robinson provides a theory on
how instrumental music is able to behave like a literary, psychological drama with a
character — or as Robinson calls it, a persona — moving through different emotional
states. The listener can, under the right circumstances, feel empathy with this non-existing
character, like in a literary novel. She uses the example of Brahms’s Intermezzo, Op. 117,
No. 2 where two themes are exposed. “The overall experience of the persona is
bittersweet because the music goes back and forth between the two themes and between
the major and minor modalities.” Even though no events are displayed, the expression of
a bittersweet mood is more than clear (Robinson 2005, 341).
One might counter this theory by stating that the analogy between the expressive
qualities of the music and a character in a fictive narrative seems far-fetched. As far as we
can speak of a musical persona, this character lacks any personal qualities, even basic
ones such as gender, age or personal background. How then are we able to feel empathy
with such a shallow, meaningless character? Nonetheless, with the metaphor of the
musical persona, Robinson shows how a certain mood can be expressed by a musical
piece. The psychological qualities of this mood can, subsequently, be invoked in the
listener as a feeling of empathy for a non-existing persona. Robinson does not intend to
14
ascribe personal qualities to music like gender, age or personal background, but merely
the psychological characteristics such as insecurity, fear or serenity.
Importantly, Robinson states it is a complex of factors that arouse emotions while
listening to music. “We may be delighted and moved by the beauty of craftsmanship of
the music (the Kivy emotions); surprised, bewildered, and relieved by the structural and
expressive development of the music (the Meyer emotions); and we may experience
nostalgia, resignation, or anguish as we feel with or for the protagonist in a song or in an
instrumental piece who is expressing his or her emotions in the music” (Robinson 2005,
410). For “the Meyer emotions” she makes use of a reading of Meyer’s theory by John
Sloboda and Patrik Juslin according to which in a compositional system, in which tension
is created by moving from or to a “home” or “stability” point, this distance from the
resting point is measured by several dimensions such as rhythm, timbre, tonality and the
like. It seems that the created feeling of tension itself plays a bigger part in the arousal of
emotions than the arrival at the “home point” (Robinson 2005, 385).This new
interpretation by Sloboda and Juslin makes Meyer’s theory applicable to music beyond
the common practice period as well. Even in a piece by Schoenberg that is full of
dissonances and meter shifts, a certain structure can be found and tension is being created
to some extent.
2.2 Spitzer’s theory
Robinson’s theory is made clearer by Michael Spitzer. Spitzer tried to make a connection
between the expression theories and the arousal theories. With the combination of
Meyer’s expectation-theory and recent work from both the fields of philosophy and the
cognitive sciences, Spitzer tried to show how it is in our nature to recognize the emotions
in music.
His approach is rather Darwinistic, in that it is predicated on the assumption that
the process of perceiving emotions involves a “quick and dirty” affective appraisal
followed by a deeper, reflective re-appraisal. This “quick and dirty” appraisal can be
compared to the manner in which our own perception can fool us just to be safe. We see a
stick but we perceive it as a snake, just in case it indeed is a snake — better safe than
sorry. Upon closer look, we might conclude it was just a stick and not a snake ready to
attack. So when listening to music, we might mistakenly perceive human expression in
the music itself at first, since everything that expresses emotions to us might be either
dangerous or helpful. This first appraisal invokes a certain mood in the listener, a way of
hearing that enforces expectations on how the music will develop. Our expectation in
music is thus not solely shaped by culture, but by the natural responses to emotional
behavior as well.
15
Like Meyer, Spitzer argues emotions can be seen as tendencies to respond.
Emotions make us ready for action, so to speak. By listening to music, we encounter
these so-called action-tendencies and perceive them as affective. This gives the listener an
active, participatory role, following the music’s development as it unravels with the
possible surprises, obstacles and twists (Spitzer 2009, 155-191).
Basically, this is yet another version of the contour theory, but with a different
conclusion. Spitzer, too, states that the human emotional gestures in everyday life can be
mirrored in music by tempo, articulation, timbre, etc. Unlike Kivy, Spitzer connects this
mirror principle with the expectancy theory of Meyer stating that “[the] patterns of
expectancy might mirror behavioral types associated with the discrete emotions (Spitzer
2009, 166).” The mood of a musical piece leads the listener into a certain way of hearing.
For example, when the music can be associated with tenderness due to its slow tempo,
legato articulation and “lazy” timing, we are driven into a tender mode of listening,
consisting of “interest and attention to detail; openness to possibility; a yearning towards
clarification of initial ambiguities. By contrast, an ‘angry’ way of hearing entails
cognitive dissonance, provoked by contradictory impulses in the music” (Spitzer 2009,
181). This is in accordance with Robinson’s theory of mood-creation. The expressiveness
of music creates a certain mood of listening that nourishes the arousal of emotions.
I have discussed three theories on the arousal of emotions while listening to music,
which can be described as mechanisms: the expectancy mechanism of Meyer, the
appraisal mechanism of Kivy and the mood-creation mechanism of Robinson and Spitzer.
In the next part I will show how these three mechanisms work together and complement
each other in the Adagio from Anton Bruckner’s String Quintet in F major (WAB 112) in
order to demonstrate how multiple factors can be of influence in the arousal of emotions.
2.3 Bruckner’s Adagio (String Quintet in F major)
To see how the different emotion-evoking mechanisms of Meyer, Kivy and Robinson
complement each other, we will now take a look at the Adagio of Bruckner’s Quintet in F
major (two violins, two violas, one cello). The Adagio is the third movement and is set in
G-flat major. The form of the Adagio is reminiscent of a sonata form. In the first 18 bars a
thematic group is exposed, in which the first violin presents the most recognizable theme
of the movement in mm. 1-12. A second group of themes, after a transition to B-flat
major, is exposed from mm. 35 - 56, after which a development follows where motives
out of both thematic groups are being elaborated and juxtaposed. In bar 139 the Adagio
arrives back at its tonic with a recapitulation of the first thematic group. The movement
ends with a small coda from mm. 167 to 173 and a lengthy cadence, with a liquidation of
the theme to the final cadence on G-flat major. Since the themes appear in many
16
variations and the motives underlying the themes reappear as themes themselves, it is
better to speak of a group of themes than simply theme A and theme B.
Starting with the Meyer-mechanism: when we take a look at the expectancy
patterns we find that expectation is mostly build up by the structure of the theme groups
and the way they reappear at different moments in the piece. The melody in the first
measures by the first violin can be heard as the main theme from the Adagio. The melody
is following the harmony given by the other strings, moving in the first five measures
from the tonic to the supertonic, to the subtonic and back to tonic in first inversion in m.
5. The listener might think this is the antecedent of the theme, but the cadence with a
logical consequent does not follow. Instead a descending sequence is presented
prolonging the antecedent-consequent phrasing the listener is ought to expect. In m. 1213, the cadence finally arrives and when in m. 13 the first few measures of the theme are
repeated the listener might think the consequent has commenced. However, this time the
tonic is given as dominant seventh chord with first the F-flat in the second violin and in
m. 18 in the cello. At this point, tension is created, by the crescendo, a tremolo in the first
violin and the inversed dominant seventh chord in the harmony. Yet, a resolution is
delayed. Instead, what follows is another descending sequence starting with the fragile
sound of the first violin alone. In m. 20, an introduction to a possible resolution comes
with A-flat minor being the subdominant, and B-flat minor being the dominant, for an
expected E-flat chord. Instead, a C minor chord follows, making a Trugschluss — another
way of inhibiting the listener’s expectation on a small scale (see Example 6).
Listening to the Adagio, we often find that an illusion of repetition of a certain
theme, or group of themes, is created, but then the melody takes a turn. We have observed
this in the first theme, and we can hear it in the second theme group as well. In m. 37 a
new theme starts in the first viola. In m. 40 it starts with a repetition of the theme but then
takes a turn and comes with new melodic material (see Example 7). In this fashion,
expectations are constantly created and then inhibited.
The listener’s expectations of the form of the piece are “frustrated” as well. As
stated before, the form is reminiscent of a sonata form. It starts off with a certain theme,
then after a transition to a different key it provides another theme, at which point the
development starts. When in m. 67 the first theme is repeated, the listener might think the
recapitulation has arrived, but shortly after the theme is presented the music takes yet
another turn showing the development has not come to an end yet. Obviously, Bruckner
deliberately plays here with the expectations of the listener. Since his compositional style
is largely based on the classical theory of harmony, but defying notable conventions with
his never-ending phrases, constant changes and modifications of a traditional harmonic
form, his work is veritably suitable for an analysis with the methods provided by Meyer.
17
Example 6 Anton Bruckner, String Quintet in F: Adagio (WAB 112), mm. 1-16
18
Example 6 continued
Example 7 Anton Bruckner, String Quintet in F: Adagio (WAB 112) mm. 34-42
19
Example 7 continued
20
Example 8 Anton Bruckner, String Quintet in F: Adagio (WAB 112), mm. 96-101
The Kivy-mechanism is more than clear in this quintet as well. The beauty of the wellcomposedness of a piece and the interactive playfulness in finding the themes and
melodies can be found in the different variations of the themes and the way they are
juxtaposed. Kivy’s concept of the “hide-and-seek game” is self-evident. Even though the
themes are not hidden in their entirety in the development, specific motives out of these
themes are constantly used and developed in new ways. Almost all of the melodic
material Bruckner uses, is based on the same rhythmic motive, which is the opening
motive of the first theme (shown in Example 9). As the thematic material wanders
through various keys, settings and harmonies, a sense of unity is maintained by the
extended usage of this motive.
21
A good example for Kivy’s “hide-and-seek game” can be found in the development
of a small motive from the second group of themes (from m. 35 and on). The melody in
the first viola in mm. 45 and 46 can be heard as the tail of the overall theme, but when it
reappears in m. 97 its function is different, namely to work as a complementary theme to
the new theme presented in the violins (see Example 8). In the following measures, the
theme can be found in its inversion — another small way of hiding the theme — and this
theme is juxtaposed to the main theme in the recapitulation in m. 149.
Typically for Bruckner’s compositions are the constant switches between major
and minor keys. A good example is the theme introduced by the first viola in the second
theme group mentioned earlier. This new section starts in m. 35 in B-flat major, but as
soon as the viola starts we hear a melody in B-flat minor.
Another thing that is typical for Bruckner’s Quintet is the way in which he
increases the progressive motion by accelerating the harmonic rhythm. At the start of the
Adagio, we can hear how it starts slowly with one underlying chord per measure in the
first three measures and then continues with four harmonies in one measure.
Example 9 rhythmic motive used by Bruckner
The third mechanism (Robinson’s) is harder to grasp by just looking at the notes. It is
important to note that the expressed emotions are not static, but dynamic. The expressed
emotions can be seen as moods, rather than states of being (Spitzer 2009 162). Thus,
music does not have to be either expressive of sadness, or happiness, or anger, but can be
expressive of ambiguous and complex emotion as well.
The first measures are calm and stable, with a flowing melody in a major key. Due
to its lingering tempo, this passage can be interpreted as nostalgic. However, it is not until
m. 18 that the music becomes poignant and the music takes a turn. The abrupt change is
emphasized by the change in timbre and expressiveness, from the full quintet playing
forte to one violin playing pianissimo. This creates a mood of fragility and ambiguity.
Suddenly, the first thematic group is abandoned and the transition to the second has
started.
After the second theme group has been exposed, the different motives from both
themes engage in a dialogue, before returning to a juxtaposition of the themes with the
22
new motivic material introduced in the development. Following Robinson’s mode of
interpretation, this Adagio can be construed as a transition of several moods, progressing
from nostalgic calmness, ambiguity and a striving dialogue to the final merger in the
recapitulation. Robinson might interpret the work as a psychological drama, stating a
persona is beginning in a calm and comfortable place, then has to deal with change and in
the end comes to an acceptance of the new situation.
If we interpret the piece as psychological experience, we can detect these qualities
that would be missed if we separate the emotions from the music completely. Of course,
the relations that Robinson reads between different sections of music are subjective.
Other interpretations could have been made just as easily. For example, one could
interpret the Adagio as a story where two personas meet — each of them with their own
introduction in the storyline — and struggle to come along in the beginning before
coming together as one in the end. Another possibility would be to interpret each
instrument as a different persona, each with its own personality and background, all of
which are in a dialogue or intense discussion with each other. The exact formulation of
the interpretation is not of importance. What matters is the detection of the psychological
qualities, such as struggle, ambiguity or nostalgia, which follows after such an
interpretation. These qualities lead to the creation of moods which are felt by the listener.
Both the psychological and the cognitive researches done so far show it is a complex of
factors that evokes the emotions in the listener. Alf Gabrielsson describes that next to the
musical factors (timbre, dynamics and the like) there are personal and situational factors
of influence as well. For the personal factors it is possible to think of the physical state of
being (feeling well, rested, tired or ill), the emotional state of being (feeling depressed,
stressed or calm and relaxed) and cognitive factors such as the familiarity with the
musical style, composer or performer or the having of pleasant or unpleasant memories of
the music. For the situational factors we could think of the acoustical conditions, listening
alone or together, the environment of the performance, etc. (Gabrielsson 2001, 443-445).
All of these factors are of influence and should be taken into account when studying
emotions in music. However, to take all these factors in full consideration would go
beyond the scope of this thesis.
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Conclusion
The aim of this thesis was to provide a critical review of some of the prevailing emotion
theories in musicology with a particular focus on the nature of the arousal of emotions
while listening to music, and the relationship between the expressed and the aroused
emotions. As the two extremes in the spectrum, the expectancy-theory of Meyer and the
enhanced formalism theory of Kivy were taken as a point departure. Both musical
analysis and empirical research demonstrate that these theories on their own are failing
short. Therefore, a new theory by Robinson, which describes the induced emotions as a
creation of mood, was introduced. The arousal of emotions during music listening might
be conceived as a product of the expectancy mechanism described by Meyer, the
appreciation mechanism described by Kivy, and the mood-creation mechanism described
by Robinson. However, the exact relationship between these mechanisms is unclear. All
three mechanisms seem to have a great influence on the arousal of emotions, but it is hard
to state which is most important or whether all three are equally important.
Perhaps it is different for each experience. In some music, the play with
expectations is central, while in other music the focus lies on the exploration of a certain
timbre. Just as each musical piece is different, and may arouse emotions in a different
way, so too is every listener different, or even every listening experience different. Next
to the musical factors that influence an arousal of emotions, there are numerous extramusical factors like the physical state of being, the emotional state of being and the
circumstances of the situation you are listening in.
When it comes to the question how music can be expressive of emotions, Kivy’s
contour theory has great explanatory power and is supported by Young’s psychological
research, but it still leaves open the question how the relationship between the expressed
and the aroused emotions can best be described. Koelsch showed with his cognitive
research that the aroused emotions appear to induce the same brain activities that are
related to the expressed emotions when we experience them in everyday life. However,
Scherer demonstrated with multiple large-scale psychological researches that the listener
does not feel the same emotions that he perceives in the music. So if there is a
relationship, it is clearly not a one-to-one relationship, meaning that music that is
perceived as sad music does not necessarily make one sad. It would be better to describe
the aroused emotions as derivatives of the expressed emotions, sharing the same
quintessence but having a different outcome. It is comparable to the manner we are able
to empathize with a character in a film or novel, for example a character that is hurt by a
great loss, without actually feeling its psychological pain. Scherer calls these aroused
emotions the aesthetic emotions and Robinson might speak of a creation of a certain
24
mood. What is important, however, is to observe that the aroused emotions can have their
origin in the expressed emotions.
One question often raised is “why listen to sad music if it makes one sad?” Most
theorists seem to agree, however, that the expressive qualities of a narrative fiction, say a
movie or a novel, can induce emotions in the viewer or listener. So I then raise the
question: why watch a sad movie if it makes one sad? It is because the empathy we feel is
not related to our own personal events. The same can be applied to music. Even though
there is no character to empathize with, it is still possible to catch the overall mood of a
musical piece and get emotionally moved by this, without experiencing any pain or
depressiveness the music is expressive of. This theory was already posed by
Schopenhauer in 1819 when he argued in music not the real emotions, such as real pain or
true delight, are aroused, but their intellectual substitutes. This way we can enjoy even the
most tender chords and the most wistful melodies (Schopenhauer 1997, 561).
In order to determine the exact relationship between the several factors that
influence an arousal of emotions more empirical research is needed. Koelsch was able to
map the brain activities while we are affected by music, but at this point the meaning of
all the different brain activities is obscure. Thus, I can only recommend more research is
done on the specific working of the brain while listening to music. In the meantime, it is
recommended that the several emotion theories are applied to musical analysis in order to
see to what extent they can be useful for musical understanding.
In Chopin’s Prelude we observed that the mere arrestment of expectations does not
suffice to explain the arousal of emotions, since other important musical parameters are
left out by this method of analysis. When analyzing evoked emotions by music, all
musical parameters should be taken into consideration. Robinson’s method of analysis
seems more adequate when it comes to analyzing emotion evoking qualities in music,
taking into consideration the expectancies, the appreciation of craftsmanship and the
psychological qualities in the music. However, these are still merely the musical factors
that are of influence. For a complete analysis, all the extra-musical factors should be
included as well.
The notion that music is able to trigger a strong emotional response is indisputable,
but to confirm the necessary conditions for the cause of the arousal of emotions by music
is, at this point, unrealizable. To investigate how and why we can be deeply moved by
music remains a fascinating challenge.
25
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