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In this chapter, we briefly describe fundamental concepts of heat transfer. We begin in Section 20.1 with a description of heat conduction. We base this description on three key points: Fourier's law for conduction, energy transport through a thin film, and energy transport in a semi-infinite slab. In Section 20.2, we discuss energy conservation equations that are general forms of the first law of thermodynamics. In Section 20.3, we analyze interfacial heat transfer in terms of heat transfer coefficients, and in Section 20.4, we discuss numerical values of thermal conductivities, thermal diffusivities, and heat transfer coefficients.
This material is closely parallel to the ideas about diffusion presented in the rest of this book. This parallelism is not unexpected, for heat transfer and mass transfer are described with equations that are very similar mathematically. The material in Section 20.1 is like that in Chapter 2, and the general equations in Section 20.2 are conceptually similar to those in Chapter 3. The material on heat transfer coefficients in Section 20.3 closely resembles the mass transfer material in Chapters 9 through 15, and the numerical values in Section 20.4 are parallel to those in Chapters 5 and 8.
Thus we are abstracting ideas of heat transfer in a few sections, whereas we detailed similar ideas of mass transfer over many chapters. This represents a tremendous abridgment. As those skilled in heat transfer recognize, the heat transfer literature is immense, of far greater size than the mass transfer literature.
The purpose of this second edition is again a clear description of diffusion useful to engineers, chemists, and life scientists. Diffusion is a fascinating subject, as central to our daily lives as it is to the chemical industry. Diffusion equations describe the transport in living cells, the efficiency of distillation, and the dispersal of pollutants. Diffusion is responsible for gas absorption, for the fog formed by rain on snow, and for the dyeing of wool. Problems like these are easy to identify and fun to study.
Diffusion has the reputation of being a difficult subject, much harder than, say, fluid mechanics or solution thermodynamics. In fact, it is relatively simple. To prove this to yourself, try to explain a diffusion flux, a shear stress, and chemical potential to some friends who have little scientific training. I can easily explain a diffusion flux: It is how much diffuses per area per time. I have more trouble with a shear stress. Whether I say it is a momentum flux or the force in one direction caused by motion in a second direction, my friends look blank. I have never clearly explained chemical potentials to anyone.
However, past books on diffusion have enhanced its reputation as a difficult subject. These books fall into two distinct groups that are hard to read for different reasons. The first group is the traditional engineering text. Such texts are characterized by elaborate algebra, very complex examples, and turgid writing.
Extraction treats a feed with a liquid solvent to remove and concentrate a valuable solute. When the feed is a liquid, the process is called “liquid–liquid extraction,” or more commonly just “extraction.” When the feed is a solid, the process is called “solid–liquid extraction,” or more commonly “leaching.” In either case, the original solution is commonly called the feed; after the extraction, this stream is called the raffinate. Similarly, the second solvent is called the extract once it contains solute.
Extraction is almost never the first choice as a separation process. If the solute of interest is a gas, then we will first try gas absorption or stripping. If the solute of interest is volatile under convenient conditions, then we will attempt distillation. We will normally try extraction only after we fail at absorption and distillation. Still, we have included a separate chapter on extraction for two reasons. First, it is an important process, central to some petrochemical, pharmaceutical, and metallurgical processes. We discuss these in Section 14.1. Second and more importantly, extraction gives an extended example of the generalization of the analyses of absorption and distillation. When extraction is carried out in differential contactors like packed towers, its analysis is similar to gas absorption. When extraction is carried out in staged contactors, its analysis parallels staged distillation. Thus we can test our understanding of absorption and distillation by discussing extraction.
Diffusion is the process by which molecules, ions, or other small particles spontaneously mix, moving from regions of relatively high concentration into regions of lower concentration. This process can be analyzed in two ways. First, it can be described with Fick's law and a diffusion coefficient, a fundamental and scientific description used in the first two parts of this book. Second, it can be explained in terms of a mass transfer coefficient, an approximate engineering idea that often gives a simpler description. It is this simpler idea that is emphasized in this part of this book.
Analyzing diffusion with mass transfer coefficients requires assuming that changes in concentration are limited to that small part of the system's volume near its boundaries. For example, in the absorption of one gas into a liquid, we assume that gases and liquids are well mixed, except near the gas–liquid interface. In the leaching of metal by pouring acid over ore, we assume that the acid is homogeneous, except in a thin layer next to the solid ore particles. In studies of digestion, we assume that the contents of the small intestine are well mixed, except near the villi at the intestine's wall. Such an analysis is sometimes called a “lumped-parameter model” to distinguish it from the “distributed-parameter model” using diffusion coefficients. Both models are much simpler for dilute solutions.
If you are beginning a study of diffusion, you may have trouble deciding whether to organize your results as mass transfer coefficients or as diffusion coefficients.
Until now, we have treated the diffusion coefficient as a proportionality constant, the unknown parameter appearing in Fick's law. We have found mass fluxes and concentration profiles in a broad spectrum of situations using this law. Our answers have always contained the diffusion coefficient as an adjustable parameter.
Now we want to calculate values of the flux and the concentration profile. For this, we need to know the diffusion coefficients in these particular situations. We must depend largely on experimental measurements of these coefficients, because no universal theory permits their accurate a-priori calculation. Unfortunately, the experimental measurements are unusually difficult to make, and the quality of the results is variable. Accordingly, we must be able to evaluate how good these measurements are.
Before we begin, we should list the guidelines that tend to stick in everyone's mind. Diffusion coefficients in gases, which can be estimated theoretically, are about 0.1 cm2/sec. Diffusion coefficients in liquids, which cannot be as reliably estimated, cluster around 10–5 cm2/sec. Diffusion coefficients in solids are slower still, 10–30 cm2/sec, and they vary strongly with temperature. Diffusion coefficients in polymers and glasses lie between liquid and solid values, say about 10–8 cm2/sec, and these values can be strong functions of solute concentration.
The accuracy and origins of these guidelines are explored in this chapter. Gases, liquids, solids, and polymers are discussed in Sections 5.1 through 5.4, respectively. In these sections we give a selection of typical values, as well as one common method of estimating these values.
This chapter explores a range of issues surrounding the study of “world musics.” It begins by examining the various uses and histories of the term World Music (“world music”), arguing that this category influences the ways we think about musical repertoires and relate to particular musical cultures. The next section considers a few historical musical encounters, the impact of the concepts of “evolution” and “culture,” going on to chart how the study of world music and the discipline of ethnomusicology developed. The role of ethnography and of methods that focus on performance, event, and orality are highlighted as distinctive aspects of the study of world music and ethnomusicology. Drawing on several case studies, the discussion then turns to the relationship between music and place. Both the critical relationship between music and place and the dangers of uncritically mapping music onto place are stressed, leading to a discussion of the relationship between identity, place, and authenticity. The final part of the chapter focuses on issues surrounding the reception of unfamiliar musics. It is an exercise in “ear cleaning,” which aims to help us to recognize how power and cultural conditioning shape the ways we hear. It contrasts so-called “listening” and “doing” musics, examines how sounds that might challenge hegemonic modes of hearing are often avoided in the World Music market, and questions our perceptions of rhythm and harmony.
Whatever one's prejudices about “opera,” there is only one way to categorize it: as a branch of lyric drama, or music theater. This is a huge and interesting subject, whether as entertainment, as study, or as material to perform. Many students will get the chance to sing, or play in, or direct, musicals and operas. Others will perhaps help back-stage or front-of-house. Theaters demand many different activities, as we saw in chapter 3. Studying opera also exists as part of music history; equally, writing music theater is still a flourishing activity, and thus part of the composer's curriculum. Performing and writing about opera often entails what W. B. Yeats (in a poem about staging drama) called “the fascination of what's difficult.” There is no universal theory; opera studies borrow methods from whichever discipline is useful. This is seen as we progress through the sections below, each of which explores a separate area. Perhaps because of its obvious challenges, opera studies (within “musicology”) is a relative newcomer.
Key issues
How do opera and music theater fit into history?
How far is opera relevant to society now?
What systems are there for analyzing music theater?
How did opera cope with the twentieth century?
Singing as a means of persuasion.
Some ways that music theater conveys morals and messages.
Production issues: interpreting musical stage works.
Opera as entertainment and ritual
Opera today can still be thought of like a ritual, a human activity bringing people together for a common cultural purpose.
Music exists in performance. It may seem obvious to say this, but it is not. To say that music exists in performance is to focus on a particular way of thinking about what music is: i.e., that it is a practice. Viewing music as a performing art emphasizes the experiential dimensions of music, and its immediacy. Experiencing music in performance highlights music as an interactive process. People respond to musical performances emotionally, bodily, and critically. They may dance to music, fall into trance, or feel a sense of community. This chapter asks questions such as “What are the meanings of musical performances?” and “What are their ritual, social, or political significances?” Music is performed in a wide variety of contexts including concert settings, family celebrations, healing ceremonies, rituals, and competitions. Musical performance features in the realms of everyday experience, from singing lullabies to listening to music while you shop. Yet there is also something special about performance: it is often understood as standing apart from everyday life and it involves presentation to an “audience.” Performers may display virtuosic musical skills or they may take on important social roles, for example, commenting on socio-political trends or mediating between supernatural and natural forces. This chapter explores musical performances from a global perspective, addressing questions about the nature, function, and processes of performance, as well as about the social roles and training of performers.
This chapter demonstrates why aesthetics, the branch of philosophy concerned with art and beauty, should be a part of the study of music. It outlines the emergence of aesthetics from the eighteenth century onwards in terms of the changing relationship between what is considered to be “subjective” and what is considered to be “objective.” This relationship has important implications for both the historical and the analytical study of music. In the modern period, ideas about objectivity are changed by the growing sense in many areas of Western society that there is no divine order of things, and that objectivity is therefore in some way dependent upon human subjectivity. Music is a form of art that is both objective, in the sense that it relies on rules of harmony, acoustics, etc., some of which can be formulated mathematically, and subjective, because it addresses human feelings and is judged in part on the basis of feelings. Music becomes important in the modern period because its meaning can be interpreted in very different ways, which are often influenced by issues in the society in which it is located. Aesthetic questions lie at the heart of debates in the contemporary study of music over whether music should be looked at in formal, analytical terms, or whether it should be connected to social and political issues.
Key issues
What is music aesthetics?
Is aesthetic evaluation merely subjective, or can it be objective?
Are aesthetic problems purely philosophical, or are they also historical?
This chapter investigates the psychological processes by which human beings make sense of, respond to, and create music. It starts by defining the term “psychology”; it then surveys the history of music psychology, and describes where and how it is currently practiced. A section on the main methods used by music psychologists follows, with numerous case studies drawn from recent literature. This leads to extended consideration of what the “musical mind” entails and how it functions in relation to the body. Further case-study examples are offered here and in the discussion of how we learn music. The section on musical creativity looks in particular at improvisation, while the final part of the chapter considers musical expression and how we perceive it. Topics addressed in the course of the chapter include the “talent myth,” sight-reading, and the various types of musical memory and skill as well as the means by which skill and expertise are developed. Emphasis is continually placed on the role of experience and acquired knowledge in interpreting the world around us.
Key issues
What is psychology?
What is the psychology of music?
What do music psychologists do?
How does “the musical mind” work?
How do we learn music?
How do we create music?
What is expressed in music and how do we perceive it?
What is psychology?
Imagine you are in a crowded classroom. Suddenly, a bell starts ringing. Do you:
This chapter asks what we mean by music history and why we study it. It considers some of the different kinds of history that can be, and have been, written, ranging from the stylistic history of musical works to the social history of how those works came to be written. It looks at the different strategies demanded by the study of music in different periods, in different places, and for different audiences. It looks at some of the tools, methods, and sources historians use to learn about musical practices in the past, and it considers some of the conventional categories they employ in order to create an order in history. They often refer to musical “traditions,” for example, and they invoke period terms such as “Baroque” and “Classical.” The chapter also addresses some of the overt and hidden agendas found in different types of historical writing, it queries whether some aspects of music history have been neglected in favor of others at different times, and it asks how much we can learn by considering the reception of music through the centuries. It further considers how the study of music history is supported by, and may in turn illuminate, some of the other categories of musical study discussed in this book.
Key issues
How can we do historical justice to works of music, given that they are part of our present?
Is music history shaped primarily by composers and scores, or by the cultural conditions which demanded and/or enabled musical performances?
This chapter considers the value of studying composition and looks at how it can be taught and assessed. Concentrating on the idea that composition is a practical, constructive activity, it introduces some possible working methods used by different composers, starting with the very different kinds of first thoughts with which composers begin, from personal experiences to a fascination with technical problems or the relation of music to other art forms. It goes on to consider how one moves from initial ideas to concrete sounds, discussing the role of notation, the value of sketches, and the process of learning from performances. The final section considers the relation of composers, performers, and audiences, discussing the idea of originality and the different expectations of different genres of music and their audiences. The question of style became highly contentious in the twentieth century but, at the same time, fragmented and plural. Does this mean that, today, anything goes? The chapter concludes with the suggestion that composers today have to negotiate a difficult path to ensure that their music will communicate with an audience while at the same time, not restricting the freedom of invention that is the legacy of the art-music tradition.
Key issues
Composition reminds us that musical works are the result of a process of making that might have turned out quite differently.
Composition involves the presentation and exploration of clear ideas, no matter what the musical style.
Notation is neither just a way of “recording” musical ideas nor of “instructing” performers, but also an invaluable medium for reworking ideas.
“Early music” can refer to a particular period (here, repertories before 1750) or a performing approach that revives instruments and styles from the era when a piece was written. This chapter probes the challenges of researching and reviving early music, noting the different approaches taken by scholars and performers; it also outlines the main sacred and secular genres before 1750.
Key issues
What is “early music”?
What is “authentic” or “historically informed” performance?
How far can we recover the sound of early music?
How did music before 1750 relate to the Christian liturgy?
Interpreting the notation of early music.
What is early music?
Before the twentieth century, “early music” was defined as music over a certain age. In eighteenth-century London the Academy of Ancient Music defined “ancient music” as being at least 150 years old, although the later Concert of Ancient Music (founded 1776) included works as little as twenty years old.
Since 1950, however, “early music” has increasingly indicated not a particular period but an attitude towards music of the past: namely, the belief that older repertories sound best if performed with instruments and styles of the composer's own era. Often this requires the recovery of lost performing skills (such as Baroque bowing, old keyboard fingerings, and systems of unequal temperament) and the revival of old instruments (such as harpsichord, viola da gamba, and valveless trumpet). With music earlier than 1600, there are also skills required to decipher the notation of the original sources.