Frank Pesci raised an interesting question on his interesting blog today. I wanted to comment, but his site doesn’t allow comments from non-”Blogger”-ers. The basic question is:
Why is “do”, “C.” Meaning, why has the default understanding of the solfege syllable “do” become synonymous with the English character “C” (and not “A”)?
And some related points are:
A few things need to be sorted out before we begin. First is the fact that only English speaking countries use the English alphabet (A through G with accidentals) to delineate pitches. Next, we will forego the initial usage of Guido of Arezzo’s system of, essentially, movable “ut,” and focus on the common acceptance of the fixed “do” system, with “do” corresponding to the note associated with the English letter “C.”
First, a correction: It’s not true that only English speaking countries use letter names for pitches. They do so in Germany and in Central/Eastern Europe as well. You may sometimes see “B” for what we call “B Flat” and “H” for what we call “B”.
As for the main question, I don’t have all the answers, but I suspect it has something to do with the letter names system being based on the minor scale (in movable do, the minor scale starts on “la”). If we equate “la” to “A”, the relative major is “C”, or “do”. There’s no real significance to the letter “C”, and the answer lies not in fixed “do”, but actually in movable “do”. So, whereas Guido d’Arezzo’s system of syllables uses the major scale as a basis (do [ut], re, mi, etc.), letter names use the minor scale.
I’m no musicologist; this is just a guess. Please comment if you have a more thorough explanation.
By the way, the origin of those solfege syllables is explained pretty well here.
If you know Frank, please pass this along. Meanwhile, I’m adding him to “Other Blogs”.
Categories:3 Responses to “The Names of Things”
Michael,
Thanks for reading! I appreciate your interest in my little blog!
I did know about the Germans and their H. I did not about Central Europe. Thanks also for your suggestion about the relative key relationship, which is a good point. I’ll be talking about some other theories that I have found in future posts, but the main point is that it’s very hard to find a definitive answer.
Thanks, Frank. Drop me a line, by the way. There’s no way to reach you via your web site. We have much in common.
Folks, allow me to comment on another recent post of Frank’s. This one’s about the notion of “perfect pitch”.
My comment: First of all, the only thing that really matters when you’re trying to read music is relative pitch. If you’re in a chorus, sight-reading off a score in C minor, and the accompanist is asked to transpose it down to A minor, “perfect pitch” isn’t worth a damn. I’m tellin’ ya… relative pitch. Take it from a Kodály nerd.
As for pitch memory, yeah, I think I have a bit of that. Mostly it’s that I know what, say, a low F or a C feels like to sing. If I’m singing it, I definitely know what the pitch is. If I’m hearing it, I sing along until I figure it out. Kind of like Patti’s point about recognizing the pitch if it’s played by an oboe.
im the same way as patti, if its played on a piano i can figure it out or get very close pretty easily, but on another instrument like a trombone or guitar i get confused.
