Received wisdom has it that the Marxist intellectual and political theorist Antonio Gramsci wrote little about music. Nevertheless, scattered across his Quarderni del carcere (1929–35) are a small number of trenchant comments on Italian opera, which Gramsci probed for its role in creating the civil society of a unified Italian state – a state whose failures led to the rise of the Fascist regime that kept him imprisoned for the last decade of his life.1 In Mary Ann Smart’s words, ‘Gramsci saw the popularity of opera in Italy as both a substitute for and an impediment to the development of his preferred vehicle for Romantic sentiment, a popular literature that demanded a solitary and reflective mode of consumption diametrically opposed to the experience of the opera house.’2 Opera’s melodramatic excess partly accounted for what Gramsci saw as the Risorgimento’s failure to be a truly popular movement in Italy; from an infirmity on the aesthetic plane sprang many of the irresolvable cultural and political schisms that beset unified Italy.

The hugely discrepant valuations of the alterities of opera and racial slavery – differing additionally between the period under consideration and our own – would seem to preclude their being addressed in the same article. The former has been lauded as the ne plus ultra of human artistic expression. The latter was embraced as an essential economic driver, and morally, spiritually and legally sanctioned by the finest Anglo philosophical, religious and legal minds of the time. That the enslaved decried and rejected their capture and enforced labour – through suicide, rebellion, flight, sabotage and cultural separation – has long been clear. The use of the profits, obtained through the sale of commodities that slave labour produced, to fund musical activities, including opera, has remained hidden. By using the published lists of subscribers (issued as books and fans) for the King’s Theatre, Haymarket, and combining that information with what can gleaned from demographic, genealogical and slavery sources, the extent to which the opera was dependent upon families whose wealth lay in plantation ownership or other forms of profit allied to it is established. The proportion is higher than might be supposed. Three families – Lewis, Young and the Heywood sisters – are spotlighted in case studies of box subscribers.

Responding to Kenneth Smith’s recent essay, I theorize that Lisztian two-dimensional sonata form and Stravinskian ‘block’ structure exhibit a tightly bound relationship in Alexander Scriabin’s late sonatas. Such analysis stitches Scriabin both backwards in time towards Liszt, through the latter’s disciple Alexander Siloti, and forwards in time towards Stravinsky and the fragmented aesthetic of much twentieth-century musical modernism. Thus Scriabin’s late works, often thought to be hermetically sealed from traditions before and after him, are situated in direct contact with two practices. Though of little note in isolation, biographical connections to Liszt and Stravinsky are also compelling from a sonata-specific perspective. I examine not just how Scriabin’s mature sonatas are Lisztian-Stravinskian, but why.

This article offers an archival study of free improvisation and sibling practices at the London Musicians Collective (LMC) during this institution’s heyday in the 1970s and 80s. In the process, I seize upon Collective activities to scrutinize theories of music and democracy in contexts of improvisation, proposing that stylistic, ideological, and experiential fractures among LMC members — which were legion — index an adversarial mode of organizing that contrasts with sunnier depictions of improvisation and democratic self-determination. Such differences, I suggest, arose from fundamentally yet productively opposed articulations of subjectivity, which I regard as assuming feminist, posthuman, entrepreneurial, and other reflexive forms.

This article seeks to cast a critical eye on musical modernism through the experiences of its percussionist practitioners. It charts the origins and accepted truisms of percussion ontology as it is understood through the modernist sensibility, and demonstrates how certain modernist assumptions have been inherited by many contemporary practitioners. Some of these individuals’ resulting expressions of grief, anger, and sadness in the wake of modernism's waning are presented, and a reparative reading of modernist percussion that seeks to make the repertory inhabitable and sustaining is instead offered. This practice is illustrated through a feminist and performer-led analysis of Karlheinz Stockhausen's Kontakte (1958–60), for piano, percussion, and tape. It is ultimately argued that performer knowledge and affective attachment is essential to understanding modernism's history and aesthetics, as well as its place in the contemporary moment.

Posthuman understanding of music and bodies as matter highlights otherwise forms of musical embodied learning. In this paper, we focus on an early childhood classroom music event and think diffractively with cognitive and posthuman theories in order to extend our insight into it. Accordingly, we explore cognitive approaches to music and movement, as well as posthuman concepts such as agency, embodiment, affect and desire, (de)territorialisations and assemblages. As music educators, we acknowledge the relationship between music and movement in early childhood, but our posthuman reading of the event enables a more equitable understanding of children’s music learning.

This article presents the psalm differentiae in the fifteenth-century Olivetan Psalter kept at the Łódź Archdiocesan Museum, the only book of this provenance that has been identified in Poland. The author identifies psalm differentiae and determines the degree to which they belong to the most widely applied euouae schemata in musical manuscripts and to what extent this book may contains euouae melodic variants without a correspondence in the chant tradition. The codex contains single psalm cadences which, if confirmed by further source research, may be considered original.

This article introduces the Voice Leaf, an outsider among Baschet’s numerous sound sculptures because of the use of the performative voice. Conceived in 1965 by French pioneers Bernard and François Baschet, the sculpture for voice consists of a stainless steel sheet folded as a leaf using origami technique. This article explores how voice and sculpture interplay acoustically by evaluating the voice’s agency and the sculpture’s aural dynamic gain. In this mutualist relationship, multiple senses are mobilised: aural, visual and haptic. The voice harboured in the sculptural leaf gains materiality and a resonance altered by the sculpture’s intrinsic properties. The article draws from conversations at the Structures Sonores Baschet Association open day with chairperson Pierre Cuffini and former workshop and acoustics research director Frédéric Fradet, as well as an interview with multidisciplinary artist and long-term collaborator of Bernard Baschet, Sophie Chénet.

This article considers Éliane Radigue and her use of the modular synthesiser, the ARP 2500, as a conduit for musical expression. It examines her seminal work Trilogie de la Mort (1988–93) and considers current reconnections to her work, including tribute concerts at the Electronic Music Education and Preservation Project, Philadelphia; Kali Malone’s 2022 album, Living Touch, which uses Radigue’s ARP 2500; and the author’s own experience of recording on the machine. As the article points out, these reconnections complement both electronic music compositional methodologies and their future direction. Radigue’s tactile and collaborative approach with the ARP 2500 is an interaction that embodies both the past and future.

This article assesses the state of research on the Tropologion of late antique Jerusalem. It is argued that the external and internal evidence points to a date of its redaction not before the later sixth century; this pertains both to the annual cycle, which presupposes the definitive introduction of Christmas in Jerusalem under emperor Justinian, and to the Oktoechos part of ordinary Sundays; also the famous chants for the veneration of the Cross, in part received in East and West, may be relatively late creations. While the reference of the book title to the ‘canon of the Anastasis’ implies a certain canonicity of the repertoire, its contents was subject to significant change; the role of particularly the Armenian tradition still requires further investigation. In any case, the history of the Hagiopolite Tropologion and its influence can only be written as a decidedly regional history.