Tell me a story: music and storytelling
An introduction to how music without words can tell a story
Hello,
We all have that friend who can remember every word of a song they’ve not heard for ages, or quote great chunks of lyrics off the top of their head (you know who you are).
Well, I am that friend to no one. Instead, I’m the one hopelessly lost after the first line or two. And while sometimes snatches of song or even a whole verse might emerge from the murky depths of my brain, most of the time it’s as if the words are dissolving in front of my eyes until there’s nothing left but a fine mist.
What does stick in my mind, however, is the music. As far as I’m concerned, the music tells a story that can be just as compelling as that told by actual words. Melody, beat, rhythm, the change from one chord to the next, the way a song can move from loud to soft or fast to slow? These elements and many more come together to form narratives without the need for a single word.
What’s more, we don’t need to have an intimate working knowledge of the how or why behind the music. The names of the notes, why this note is longer than that, what that symbol means or this one here, the intricacies of chords, and all the rest of it? Incidental to both your enjoyment of a song or piece of music and the stories you ‘hear’ when you listen to it. (This isn’t to say that understanding some of this won’t enhance your experience, but it is by no means essential.)
As to what that experience might be, well, that depends, because how we hear something depends on the context in which we hear it. A song that usually has you reaching for a hard surface so you can tap along with the beat might become, the next time you hear it, like sharp needles on your skin. Or a piece of music you’ve heard before but never really, really listened to, might become irrevocably tied to an event or the memory of an event, its story now intertwined with your own.
There’s a fluidity to how we listen to music and what we make of it. Every time is a few minutes (or more or less) in which both the music and you undergo a transformation, different at the end to how you were at the beginning.
Ingredients of a good story
Like any story, music comprises key elements blended together to craft a narrative. Harmony in music is when notes are played or sung together, like combining pieces of a puzzle. How the notes are chosen depends on their relationship with each other (based on musical conventions and rules and patterns, but not necessarily), as well as the chosen genre (pop, classical, jazz, and so on), and the whim of the composer.
What’s important from the listener’s point of view is that certain blends of notes, and how these blends move on to the next blend and the one after that, can suggest certain emotions or actions; you only have to think of how music is used in movies to get an idea of what I mean.
Rhythm is the heartbeat of a story. It’s the backbone, the framework for the listener’s experience. The beat provides the foundation, the underlying pulse and structure that propels the narrative forward, just like the pace and flow in a story with words. When the pace slows or speeds up or pauses it can be just like a well-timed plot twist or a suspenseful climax in a story.
The melody is the protagonist in a tale, the voice guiding us through the narrative. It’s a sequence of notes that can be simple or intricate, joyful or mournful, melancholic or reflective, or anything in-between. And, just like the best characters and storylines, it can transform as the story progresses. Changes in pitch (higher or lower, and see How to read and hear the ups and downs of a melody as if it were a map for more), the speed, and the volume level all help to express emotions and create tension or resolution.
But in the end, it comes down to you, dear listener. The beauty of music is that the story it tells is a creative partnership between the composer, the notes themselves, and the ears and imagination of the person doing the listening.
Storytellers, all.
