(West Long Branch, New Jersey, U.S.A.)

After the great concert on the first night at Monmouth University’s music symposium (see my previous post – and also photo above), it was time to get a little serious.

There were roughly 50 “elective” seminars spread out over 10 time slots, so it was impossible to see everything.  I decided to challenge myself and attend something that sounded really obscure…a seminar on “irregular hypermeters”.  As I was never able to fit any music electives into my university timetable, I braced myself for the worst.  I have a good grounding in the basics of music theory, and have always been intrigued by odd time signatures, but haven’t really studied music seriously for about 35 years.  Even with the conference’s underlying Beatles theme, perhaps this was taking things too far?

My fears were groundless.  Yes, some of the language was challenging, especially when the professor also incorporated a philosophy called “aesthetic realism”.  And irregular hypermeters weren’t actually odd time signatures, as I had originally thought.  But then something very cool happened:  the professor was so enthusiastic about the material that the required intellectual gymnastics suddenly became attainable.

The basic idea was that the musical phrases in Beatles music are often captivating because they do not comply with the “rules” for popular music.  For example, instead of the expected lengths of 4, 8 or 12 bars, the phrases would be 5 bars (“Eleanor Rigby”) or 7 bars (“Yesterday”).  This is what you call an “irregular hypermeter”.  Sure enough, if you count out the beats and bars, these songs (and many others) do not fit the expected pattern.  The predictability so often found in blues and country music, and by extension much popular music, just isn’t there.  Is this why the Beatles’ music still sounds fresh and inventive today?

The professor was a gifted musician…in fact, it turns out that he has won awards as a composer.  But instead of leaving us with just an interesting theory, he actually demonstrated on the piano what “Yesterday” would sound like if it contained “standard” verse phrases of 8 bars rather than 7 bars.  It was corny, and almost painful to hear.

After showing how (via the music of Burt Bacharach) the unusual phrasing and chord changes in “Eleanor Rigby” also surprise and delight, the professor took some questions from the class.  At one point, he erupted into a vocal passage from an opera (in German!) to demonstrate his point.

Before we knew it, we had run way past the scheduled end of the seminar.  In a sign that the message got through, I later enthused about this previously unknown subject to my friend…and, over the next several days, anybody else who would listen.  I also found myself counting out the lengths of melodic phrases in every piece of music I encountered (note: don’t try this when you are driving).  Sure enough, the most cliched-sounding songs rigidly follow the same old patterns.

While this topic continues to fascinate me, I think the key take-aways are a lot simpler.  First of all, being passionate about what you are teaching can break down a lot of barriers.  Secondly, learning out of pure interest is far more effective than learning out of necessity.  And finally, you’re never too old to learn.  If you can find something you’re passionate about, those rusty old learning skills will come rushing back!