Dynamics

I wonder if some of the other musical subjects are envious of ‘dynamics’. It’s very name sounds like a superpower. How about the others? ‘Duration’ sounds world-weary; ‘Augmentation/diminution’ feels like a medical procedure. ‘Meter’ sounds like something a bureaucrat made up. But ‘dynamics’ sounds like it is brimming with life-force energy. (Note: the image above is AI-generated after typing in “dynamics music superpower”. A little creepy, but I decided to keep it.)

I sometimes feel a let-down if I need to define the word in class. Loud or soft? Is that all it means? When further reduced to a set of symbols (f, mp, p, etc.), it definitely does not live up to its own hype. The labels themselves are fuzzy. Just how do I know if something is ‘medium soft’ (i.e., mezzo piano) anyway?

But I spotlight this subject in the beginning of the year because actually every Dalcroze class is about dynamics. Subtle changes of energy at just the right time are what make music sound expressive and nuanced. Rhythmic subjects like phrasing, meter, duration, and pitch subjects like harmony, melodic shape and phrasing all hinge on careful control of how loud or soft we are playing or singing at any given moment.

If forced to reduce the difference between a music theory class and a musicianship class, you could do worse than simply saying, “Dynamics.” But in my own private instrumental lessons they were added on to the cake like icing or decorative flowers after the notes and rhythms were learned. In the musicianship class (which is what a Dalcroze class usually is), they can earn their rightful place as a subject of study. Because they can be mapped onto weight, use of space, balance, interaction with others, and speed they are the real meat and potatoes of the movement class.

Activities:

Teach a group of elementary-aged kids to make a circle and change the size from very large to very small. This could take a session or two depending on the group. Then play or put on some music that has lots of changes of dynamics. Brahms’ Hungarian Dance No. 5 has a fun kinetic energy that kids seem to enjoy, but there are many possibilities. Whether I am improvising or using a recording, it’s especially fun when there is a good deal of predictability with just enough surprises to bring out giggles.

To strengthen independence in children, I use an activity I have taken to calling “Orchestra/soloist” in my lesson plans. One child moves as they like (I try to encourage locomotor movements such as walking, skipping, lunging, etc.), and I accompany them, matching their tempo and dynamics as best I can on the piano using a single-voiced melody while the rest of the group watches and waits to move. When I bring in both hands (and all ten fingers), the rest of the group knows to join in the same movement. What tells them? Dynamics. I aim to develop a dialogue between soloist and orchestra that feels like a concerto.

Towards the end of the year, we play the same game but I’ll start by putting on the board a big list of tempo terms (from slow to fast), dynamics terms (from soft to loud), and kinds of articulation (staccato, legato, marcato, etc.). Soloists choose their own combinations (“build your own sandwich”), for example, soft/slow/legato or quick/light/legato. I bring in as many musical terms as are appropriate for age and institution. Once someone chooses a particular combination, it’s crossed of the list.

For early childhood, I create a ball-passing experience with the second movement of Haydn’s Surprise. I have to wait until I feel like most of the kids will willingly roll a ball back to me soon after receiving it. We sit in a circle with kids (3–4 years old) and their adults. This piece has many hilarious changes of dynamics usually built the same way: soloists, trios, full orchestra. When it is calm and quiet, I roll a single ball to different children. As the activity in the music speeds up, I add a second. When things really get moving, I add up to three or four balls. And, of course, that ridiculous surprise accent early on gets its own large bounce from me out of nowhere. It’s a long movement (almost 10 minutes in some versions), but kids almost always stay engaged with the drama (and the comedy). Who will get the next ball? When will we add more? Why is he holding on to them now? The right group will stay amazingly focused.

Dynamics play a role in the overall form of all my kids classes. Especially in early childhood, they tire quickly and need frequent rest periods. Some kids are good at self-regulation: they’ll just lie down in the middle of a class when they need a rest. As long as they are not in the middle of the room where they might pose a safety risk, I don’t mind this. I try to build a couple of peaks of activity during every class so that everyone (even me) gets some rest. I follow each peak with complete relaxation on the floor. I often use the same rest music (Schumann’s “Far Away Places” and Ravel’s “Sleeping Beauty” Pavanne are my two go-to pieces for rest). The kids come to expect these rests and drop to the floor willingly. (Sometimes I encourage slow melting.)

Adults and older kids often need specific techniques they can use to adapt to changes in dynamics, which often accompany changes in tempo. Here are some possible things to explore:

1. Stride length: larger steps for louder dynamics, shorter for softer (with implications for exploring the interrelationships of time, space and energy).
2. Body parts: which body parts are more suited for expressing the louder dynamics? Which for the softer?
3. Size of group = dynamic: solo, duo, trio, full group.
4. Resistance: use of elastic bands, or simply pushing against or pulling a partner can capture the dynamic arc of a phrase.
5. Balls are effective ways to explore the dynamic subtleties of each beat in a measure: bouncing, catching, tossing and passing each might have their place in a meter of four.

All of the above have direct application to music that closely maps our experience of being weighted beings subject to the force of gravity. Jaques-Dalcroze used this physical experience to create a theory of rhythm that can be applied remarkably well to many kinds of musical situations. (He even created ‘rules of nuance’ in an effort to teach musicality.) But I believe we can also benefit from exploring the many ways that musical reality might differ from our own physical capabilities. This is why I sometimes like to decouple the usual pairings of tempo and dynamics: slow and soft; loud and fast. What about loud and slow? Soft and fast? Music is large enough to contain these realities, too, even if they don’t come as naturally to us as movers. It can present and interesting question to explore in the adult classroom.