Proportion — where it appears
Named by 11 essays across one field — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
A proportion is only as fine as its two durations
Analyses of form measure proportions in bars and report them to three figures — a climax at 0.618, a section in the ratio 3 : 2. A listener has each part only as an estimate of how long it lasted, and a ratio of two estimates is blurred by both. Timed as well as anyone times a single second, eleven proportions fit between 1 : 1 and 3 : 1; timed from memory over minutes, two do. The golden section is told from 3 : 2 only below a Weber fraction of 5.4 per cent.
A return is shorter than its first hearing
A rondo's refrain takes three fifths of the clock and a verse-and-chorus song is balanced to the bar. Count instead the bars a listener could not have predicted when they arrived, and the returns shrink to between a tenth and a quarter of what is kept — so a song equal by the clock is between three and seven times heavier in its first half. A coder that learns repeats one bar at a time says the halves are equal, and the two memories disagree by more than any proportion a listener could confuse.
A count is not an estimate
Both established routes to a proportion are estimates — a duration timed, blurred by a Weber fraction, and a duration stored, biased by what was new. A listener who has induced a hypermetre has a third, and it is exact until it fails. It fails two ways that pull opposite: a slip miscounts one unit and its relative cost falls as the section lengthens, while a lapse loses the count entirely and its chance compounds. The mixture has a floor at about four units, where counting is 3.7 times finer than timing, and it is worth almost nothing past a hundred.
A form is sharp at the bottom and vague at the top
A movement is divided into sections, each into phrases, each into bars, and every level is a ratio of two estimates. Timed, the hierarchy is almost uniformly blunt — 2.1 distinguishable proportions at the top and 5.2 at the bottom, because a Weber fraction is a step function of duration and six of a piece's seven levels fall in one step of it. Counted, the same hierarchy runs from 2.2 to 12.2 and sharpens monotonically downward. At no level of either does timing separate 3 : 2 from the golden section.
A golden section is a coin toss with six coins
An analysis that reports a climax at 0.618 of a piece has not tested one prediction; it has looked at a piece with several defensible boundaries and reported whichever landed nearest. The rate at which that happens under no hypothesis is one line of arithmetic, and the tolerance it needs is not a number chosen on the page — it is the blur a listener's own timing puts on the judgement. Over a stretch of minutes that blur covers everything from 0.492 to 0.730 of the piece, which contains the halfway point, and six candidate boundaries produce a hit eighty per cent of the time.
Checkpoints sharpen the middle of a form, not its top
A listener who counts bars loses the count somewhere in a long section and is thrown back on timing the whole of it. A listener who also counts phrases can mend the lapse at the last phrase. If the two counts fail independently, the level a minute long goes from four distinguishable proportions to nineteen; the whole eight-minute piece goes only from two to four, because thirty phrases are long enough to lose a count as well. And if a fifth of lapses take both counts at once, three quarters of the gain is gone.
Only a lapse of attention keeps a form's top vague
A listener who keeps a count at every level of a form — bars, phrases, periods, sections — each mending the one below when it lapses, does not have a vague top at all. The whole eight-minute piece becomes the sharpest level, at seventy-six distinguishable proportions against two. Failures shared between neighbouring counts barely dent it, because a shared failure has to climb every level to reach the top. What puts the vagueness back is a lapse that takes every count at once, and one lapse in a hundred of that kind is enough.
A repeat sign loses a listener that a refrain does not
A lapse of attention loses every count a listener is keeping, and when it ends the listener has only the music to say where they are. A listener who knows the form comes back to a rondo's refrain and is almost never misplaced, because the episodes between refrains make only one of them reachable. They come back near the join of a section repeated immediately and are misplaced nearly half the time, and a form built of such repeats loses between a third and a half of the precision a count at every level had restored. One of the most familiar signs in notation does more damage than the most repetitive form.
New music says only that it is new
A listener who knows a piece comes back from a lapse of attention and is placed at once by whatever they hear, and a through-composed piece, which never repeats anything, is the easiest of all forms to come back to. A listener hearing it for the first time is not so lucky. What they hear on returning is either something they have heard before, which names itself, or something they have not, which says only that it is new. For a rondo that costs almost nothing. For the through-composed piece it costs its whole lead: at lapses of half a minute or more, a first-time listener is placed no better in it than in a rondo — and being told the piece's plan in advance gives back almost none of the difference.
A section that says what it is for places a first hearing
A first-time listener who loses count in a through-composed piece comes back into music they have never heard, and new music says only that it is new. Suppose instead each section announces what it is doing — opening, continuing, intensifying, closing — and the listener recognises it. How much of their place that gives back depends hardly at all on how many functions there are and almost entirely on how soon the same function comes back. Four functions cycled restore 85 per cent of what a first hearing costs at forty-second lapses; the same four in the familiar arc, two sections each, restore 42; two functions alternating restore 85 per cent at twenty seconds and 14 at a minute.
An announced plan pays the cycle and punishes the blocks
A slow introduction, a title or a programme note can tell a first-time listener the plan of a piece before the first lapse — and be wrong. Trusted as far as it deserves, an announcement gives back half of what being told the plan is worth to four cycled functions only once it is right nine times in ten. But how far to trust it depends on the piece: a cycle rewards believing even a coin-toss announcement completely, while functions in blocks of two are made worse by an announcement right half the time, and a confident wrong one can cost a listener forty points of the first minute.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Musical formMemory decayWeber fractionDurationHierarchyHypermetrePhraseRefrainRepetitionPerceptual presentDescription lengthExpectation