Music Fiction 101


A vs. C

In a Charles Schultz Peanuts comic Schroeder takes time off from his piano practice to teach Snoopy a bit of music theory.

Standing in front of a blackboard, Schroeder gestures with a pointer to a music symbol and says, “This is a Treble Clef.”

           Treble Clef

He shifts his pointer to another symbol and states, “This is an ampersand.”

          Ampersand  

“They’re quite similar,” he continues. Then in a hushed tone he explains, “Actually ... they hate each other.”

A rivalry amongst symbols? Humorous indeed! But not entirely a laughing matter. Such contention exists right at the foundation of music theory, and at the core of music notation. It’s the friction between A and C — the type of dissonance rarely discussed in music — and the ceaseless, grinding rub that chaffs the minds of new music students, the disharmony that sorely complicates the lives of music teachers who have to explain the matters and peculiarities of music language. It's the perpetual via between A and C for recognition as “Alpha Musicus.”

In the various walks of life the letters A and C coexist peacefully. With deference to centuries of alphabetical precedence, C always defers to A. Ordering starts with A and you go from there. C follows behind A by two of notches, ticks, rows, columns, tabs, section, parts, exhibits, hierarchies, folders, volumes, ... no one argues with that. It's the way things are.

“A” has significant clout in this matter. Over the millennia humankind has organized trillions of objects alphabetically: chapters, sections, books, charts, indexes, lists, street names, isles and seats. This convention is universally accepted throughout literature and western languages. The matter of field is practically irrelevant. A and C know their place in science, biology, business, architecture ... the sole exception is the field of music, where C somehow managed to pull something over on A ... and stole its throne.

For centuries C has been center of the musical world. How did this come to be? And why? Explaining C’s alpha status in the music would require a review of countless historical events, decisions, and linguistic wrangling. Such a discussion is outside the scope of this article. Nevertheless, whatever the originating historically causes and forces, the facts are clear: the letter C and the C scale somehow attained recognition as “Alpha Musicus.” About the only thing A has going is A440 ... that it's easier to find an A tuning fork than a C, and that orchestras tune to A.

C is considered first letter of the music alphabet. It’s the de facto “Do” of Do re mi. In music C holds forth in scholarly thinking and everyday pedantry, reigning sovereign throughout the prose of music pedagogy. It is revered by all musically indoctrinated. Throughout the thick tomes of theory C rules with a heavy hand.

But this bucks traditions and customs we implicitly accept. It tosses aside normal ordering conventions, and well befuddles those newly acquainted with music. It makes no sense alpha-logically. It’s is tantamount to the number 3 being the first number in math and counting. It’s enough to make us wonder if the world’s greatest music halls pay homagne and order their seats starting at C. That would be a small but a fitting tribute!

This situation raises many questions: Is this this madness acceptable? Should C be the key with no sharps or flats? Should C equal Do? Why not A? Shouldn't the musical alphabet start at A? How could a letter of lesser standing mount a credible challenge and successful coup over A? Who let this happen? Who encouraged, designed ... or first approved? Shall publish a list of the culprits and publish it for all to see? Shall we pejoratively refer those who swallowed the C-centric view of the musical universe as spineless C-creatures? And finally, is there anything we can do about this situation? Are such endeavors as futile as Dvorak keyboards vs. QWERTY, BetaMax vs. VHS , and Esperanto vs. all other languages ...

Before proposing any muse shaking changes, first let’s clearly examine the prevailing C-centric view of music.

There exist five undeniable conventions that give C the upper hand over A.

1) C is the simplest scale to notate and to read. For arbitrary historical reasons, the C major scale has no sharps or flats. Only the C scale is pure, unblemished, unfettered and self sufficient, without need of chromatics (sharps or flats) in its key signature.* This single fact that bears enormous weight in C’s sway over A.

C, the one-and-only unrumpled scale, provides the "standard candle" for defining all other musical structures in field of music theory ... but in short order, because of another huge oddity — that music assigns seven symbols to identify twelve objects, thereby created a uneven numbering system — music theory tangles terribly, nearly strangling itself by its own gangly throat.

2) C is typically the simplest scale to play. On most instruments it follows an uncomplicated fingering.**  This fact is most evident on piano. Start on a C key, then proceed up the white keys to the next C. The major scale doesn’t get simpler than that. Combine this physical simplicity with the C scale’s notational simplicity, and you get the compelling reasons why piano instructors teach their students the C major scale first.

For transposing instruments, like an Eb tenor saxophone, the simplest major scale fingering is notated as a C scale, even though it produces the "concert" sound of Eb.

3) C is usually considered the initial letter of the music alphabet. When teachers explain Do, Re, mi, their alphabetical examples use the C scale: C D E F G A B … not A B C# D E F# G#.  Again this is because the C scale has no sharps or flats. As mentioned, the piano bears the closest natural relationship to music theory, and thus the C scale became the backbone of music theory.

4) Octave changes occur at C, not A. There are many types of "octave numbering" systems for depicting octave designations, pitches within the range of octaves: the Helmholtz System, Alternate Helmholtz System, the Scientific pitch notation ...) Scientific pitch notation, or the MIDI standard provide the simplest approach. In Scientific pitch notation Middle C is written C4. The A below middle C in notated A3! This is because octaves are not numbered from A to A, but rather from C to C. A 440 is notated A4 — it is six notes above C4 (middle C).

5) C sits enthroned atop the Cycle of Fifths. The Cycle of Fifths is music theory’s organizational magnum opus: music’s main theoretical and relational chart. It centers around C! All other keys assemble around her. The key of A sits begrudgingly, three entire notches to the right of C.   

It’s a wonder that A doesn’t just pack up and walk off. No doubt, skulking and plotting, like Richard III, fueled by a feeling of entitlement and envy, A obsessively covets a seat on the throne atop of the Cycle of Fifths, and lusts to revel in all the musical glory that follow. As with Richard, we often sympathize, wishing “if there only was a way.”

In the next article I’ll venture the notion that A could successfully mount a coup ... or easily attain detente and reconciliation.

I'll present one of three possible solutions, the other two in subsequent articles. They are simple and viable solutions for putting at at the top of the Cycle of 5ths. Solutions so simple, I’d be surprised if no one’s previously proposed them. To support and clarify, I’ll present a new Cycle of Fifths for each solution, like the A-based Cycle of 5ths shown above.

 

An illustration of an A-based Cycle of Fifths

A based Cycle of Fifths

 

Music works fine as it is. This series of articles was written for fun, and to give you an opportunity to shift your perspective, imagine what might have been, and imagine what could be. I have no real intention of inspiring a musical insurrection. That would prove as difficult as trying to get the United States to drop the British weights and measures and adopt the metric system ... but if I were to suggest any real change ... well, how about that metric system?

 

...to be continued. See how an A-based Cycle of 5ths is possible ... and why it makes sense! For now, I’ll leave you sit with that “clef hanger.” Check for solutions in future articles.

Solution 1 | Solution 2 | Solution 3


Flourish
 

If you say the letters names of the major scale starting with A, you have to include a few sharps: A B C# D E F# G#. When you start from C, it goes C D E F G A B C. On most instruments the A scale is not only harder to play, it’s harder to notate, visualize and remember.
 

** Stringed instruments such as violin pose a glaring exception. On violin the A scale is clearly the simplest single octave major scale. And yet, over the centuries, even violin instructors traditionally insisted that their students first master the C scale (probably due to it’s notational purity) without regard for a few essential ergonomic matters. On violin:

- there is no C string. There’s no open C note to provide a solid starting point

- even the simplest first position C scale spans three strings

- when played across all four strings the C scale requires three unique fingerings.

The A scale is clearly the simplest single octave major scale for violin! It stars on an open string; a trip up Do Re Mi  involves only two strings; doing so requires only one finger shape.


 

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