Music schools have 3-4 semesters of theory and aural skills (usually 4). These courses are considered foundational to music education and are supposed to be the primer for college-level musicality. They start with the fundamental notation and harmonic lingo: notes, intervals, chords, time signatures, key signatures, etc. Youtubers often refer to this as music theory (see videos like Music Theory Explained in 30 minutes or less!), but if only it were that simple! (Side note: Some Youtubers are much better versed—Adam Neely, Jacob Collier, 12-Tone, etc.).
Music theory is self-explanatory but rarely pondered on: it’s a theory about music. What is that theory? I do not know any strictly defined theory that is being taught, despite a near-universal pattern of teaching it in the United States. Some might say it’s Heinrich Schenker’s theory or perhaps Rameau’s, but we are quite timid on either of those if true. No wonder why students are often frustrated by theory—why would anyone enjoy a strenuous class without understanding how it contributes to their understanding of music? Roman numerals are trivial unless placed in context. Cadences are quite trivial unless they amount to something beyond an endless loop of the phrase model. Forms are quite trivial unless they are experientially potent (form is a tricky word—something a composer would hardly appreciate as applied to unique achievement). So is the theory that there are different types of chords? Is it that music is just a big phrase model cycle? Is it that form is what makes music interesting? For many students, these are the takeaways, and it’s hard to blame them! What is the theory of music being discussed?
With such a vague title, music theory and its accompanying aural skills can either become an empty ritual or a compelling opportunity. The teacher can either succumb to the perpetuation of their experience or chart out what their music theory might be. Here’s my music theory:
Music’s affect and effect on the mind and heart derive from at least four essential elements: structure, flow or consistency, mood, and surprise or deviation from expectations.
This simple statement is something I wish I had years ago and only came to me within the past year. Four semesters summarized succintly in a single sentence revolutionized my approach to teaching the subject. How do I make sure that discussions on Roman numerals, phrase model, form, and so forth express musical flow, not just structure? How do I bring out the way that counterpoint affects the mood of the music? Do I stick with obvious music examples, or do I allow for my students to encounter music that has interesting surprises in it? Do my students only need short excerpts/exercises, or should they analyze larger excerpts? What repertoire should be used in the classroom if my objectives touch beyond the common practice period? How does the way I teach harmonic dictation complement these ideas? How do sight singing and rhythm exercises complement these ideas? Should aural skills simply reinforce music theory, or should it be separated and have its own objectives (probably, though it can still do some reinforcement)? These questions are the type that excite me.
There is only so much time in a curriculum. Priorities are needed. This semester has been about refining the music theory curriculum. What can be streamlined? What musical topics have value? Is there a way to repackage the teaching for simplicity’s sake? What is worth sacrificing in a curriculum to strengthen the clarity of the class? Some decisions I made were:
Treat chords by function from the beginning. This is borrowed from Laitz but taken a step further. The entire first semester of the class is about harmonic paradigms, the most common bass patterns in music. It takes some memorization, but the options are narrowed from the seemingly infinite to a variety of simple bass motions and accompanying chordal “flavors.”
This condensed my Theory I and II experience at BYU into half a semester. And the students understand harmonic flow better than I did back then.
Add keyboard skills to aural skills in the keyboard lab.
All of the harmonic paradigms are played through on the piano. The tactile reinforces the theoretical. They can simplify and play the same chord progressions in the music they analyze. Also, they can hear dictations just like the chord progressions they performed.
They also master figured bass.
I care about figured bass.
Figured bass preserves the linearity of music. It reinforces that there is counterpoint at play and focuses less on the fact that verticalities exist. Some are nay-sayers to it, but a Roman numeral approach is hardly helpful.
I care about part writing
It teaches smooth voice leading, which is used in music well beyond classical. It also presents some realistic compositional problems like maintaining a balanced texture.
Chordal writing probably should not be the only way that exercises are written. Four-part writing presents doubling issues not as relevant in other contexts, for example.
Diversify repertoire
This continues a project that goes back years (at least to 2017 when I started teaching, but really to 2015 at U Miami with its pop music-infused theory).
This by far takes the longest for preparation. I can see why people regurgitate the same examples again and again in theory textbooks…
Get to the 20th/21st century (by passing through the 19th century)
It is a disservice to only speak on common-practice period music to musicians whose careers will be spent with mostly 20th/21st century rep. Band and choir teachers will largely program newer rep. Most orchestra performers will play their Shostakovich, Stravinsky, and Prokofiev, and all performers will play plenty of contemporary rep in chamber music.
Musicians should understand how structure, flow, mood, and surprise work in the common-practice period by the end of semester 1 and have it mastered after discussions of form in semester 2. Tonal ambiguity of the Romantic era should be a big topic to start semester 3 and receive plenty of attention. Then, those same values should carry forth into contemporary analysis.
20th century music isn’t just serialism and modes. Ideally, there are several weeks on post-1945, nay, post-1970 music, preferably music written within the last 10 years.
There are many other decisions to be made in continual refinement of a music theory program (especially on the aural skills end—sight singing needs much more thought). But I am extremely grateful for the academic freedom to pursue, in consultation with my colleagues, what I feel is best for my students’ overall knowledge and musicianship. I’d love to hear the strategies of any music theorists that wander to this page—your “music theory.”