Michael Koch, music theorist and creator of the “en blanc et noir” channel, interviewed about Partimento and the Rule of the Octave

Michael Koch Partimento Interview: Rule of the Octave & more

Background

Interview Day: May 2021

Michael Koch teaches music theory, listening, and ear training at the Musikhochschule Detmold, and music theory at the Folkwang Universität der Künste in Essen. He studied musicology, German literature, and philosophy at the University of Paderborn and in Detmold, completing a Magister before continuing with formal studies in music theory and ear training at the Musikhochschule Detmold (Bachelor) and later at Folkwang (Master). Alongside his theoretical studies he received individual instruction in piano, basso continuo on organ and harpsichord, score reduction at the keyboard, and advanced listening. Improvisation was largely absent from his formal training and became a central interest only after he completed his studies, although he encountered partimento briefly in lessons with his harpsichord teacher at Folkwang.

Since then he has worked as a lecturer and private teacher while developing a strong interest in keyboard improvisation, the history of thoroughbass and figured bass pedagogy, and nineteenth-century piano music. His research interests include Romantic and late-Romantic repertoire, particularly composers such as Schumann, Chopin, Scriabin, Arensky, Bortkievich, and Glière, as well as more experimental figures like Feinberg and Roslavets. He has also studied nineteenth-century improvisation pedagogy in sources by Czerny, Kalkbrenner, and Förster, and the earlier Italian-influenced figured bass traditions found in German theorists such as Heinichen. His musicology dissertation examined Lied composition within Schoenberg’s circle, while his master’s thesis in music theory explored Domenico Scarlatti’s role in the development of key relations in the eighteenth century.

Born in 1984 in Bautzen (then East Germany), he began playing several instruments in childhood, including recorder, guitar, and saxophone, before eventually turning to the piano as a late starter at around the age of eighteen.


Introduction

I came to the piano relatively late, around the age of 18. Before that I had several other musical experiences. In elementary school I attended a recorder ensemble. Later I played alto saxophone in music school, participated in the music school big band, and was part of a saxophone quartet. After that I played electric guitar and also classical guitar.

At the age of 18 I began playing the piano. I played on my own for about half a year and then decided to take lessons and begin practicing more deliberately.

After my public service I moved to Detmold to study musicology, German literature, and philosophy at the University of Paderborn. When I finished the Magister, I immediately decided to study music theory in Detmold (Bachelor). I later deepened my studies at the Folkwang Universität der Künste in Essen with Professor Dr. Markus Roth (Master), completing the degree in 2017.

Since then I have worked as a lecturer in music theory and ear training at the Institute for Young Students at the Musikhochschule Detmold, and as a lecturer in music theory at Folkwang and at the Institute for Musicology Detmold/Paderborn.


First Encounter with Partimento and Improvisation

My first encounter with Partimento methods was around 2007, several years before I began studying music theory. Partimento was never a major focus in Detmold, although I had basso continuo lessons as part of the Bachelor’s program and had been familiar with figured bass since my first theory lessons during my musicology studies.

I would say that much of the knowledge I accumulated on this topic over the years is somewhat self-taught, through articles, books, online resources (such as the Gjerdingen website), conference presentations, and a great deal of trial and error.

My passion for improvised music emerged around 2017–2018 when I began playing and recording unwritten arrangements and prelude-like improvisations in Romantic piano styles.

This interest did not arise out of nothing. I had always composed a great deal in many musical styles. From that point on, I wanted to explore more deeply the practice of keyboard improvisation, its historical development, and its pedagogical methods. In April 2020 I started my YouTube channel in order to become part of what seemed to be a growing worldwide community working in this fascinating field.


How Would You Enter the Field of Baroque Improvisation / Partimento?

That depends on the student’s background and prior experience. Typically I teach students who already have some experience in music theory, harmony, or counterpoint. I often begin with a “closed” bass line, for example the Folia d’Espagne, because it is a bass pattern that can be explored at many levels of difficulty and complexity.

In improvisation lessons I usually apply the strategy of demonstrating a short example, perhaps a cadential model, a schema, or a sequence. The student then repeats and transposes the building block several times. When it comes to Partimento, I would say I am relatively strict, because I want to convey a clear idea of “clean” counterpoint. I often ask for written realizations so that I can examine the voice-leading details carefully. It would be problematic if students internalized incorrect or untidy counterpoint.

At the beginning I often compose many basic partimenti myself, because I want to train specific techniques for which suitable examples are sometimes difficult to find in existing sources. These include basic topics such as the different types of cadences (especially the various doppia variants), suspensions (2–3, 4–3, 7–6, 9–8), and fundamental sequential patterns.

Once students seem sufficiently prepared, I introduce original sources and give them carefully selected bass lines from the historical masters.


Starting with Four Voices or Two Voices for Beginners?

From the very beginning, I think students should be flexible with the number of voices and practice different textures in parallel. During my student years, almost every harmonic progression was conceived strictly as a four-voice texture. It took me some time to move beyond this mindset. I sometimes call it the “chorale ideology,” the assumption that all tonal music is essentially four-part writing.

Many students today seem trapped in the same mindset, so I try to break it early by working with two, three, and four voices. Two-voice counterpoint is central, because strong outer voices (Außenstimmensatz) form the structural skeleton of tonal composition, whether the final texture contains three, four, five, or more voices.

In Partimento, the trio-sonata structure often appears to be the central paradigm. Many sequential patterns and stylistically important devices, such as the doppia cadence, are essentially contrapuntal three-voice constructions, often involving voice exchange. At the same time, it is important to be familiar with two-voice writing in all these situations, since two-voice textures constitute a large portion of Baroque keyboard repertoire.


On Handel’s Basses for Princess Anne

In the Handel publication edited by Ludwig Holtmeier and others, the authors argue that the most authentic realizations derive from a three-voice approach. In my opinion this book is one of the best studies of Partimento available, and I recommend it to anyone interested in the topic. Even if you are not a German speaker, you can learn a great deal from Menke’s and Holtmeier’s realizations of Handel’s basses.

Another strength of the book is that most of the basses are methodically and pedagogically well designed. At the same time they produce aesthetically convincing musical results from the very beginning. I particularly notice the precision with which the exercises are ordered. The introduction of figurations, chords, suspensions, and syntactical problems is very carefully controlled.

Most exercises lead to satisfying musical solutions within a relatively narrow compositional space, which I consider methodically advantageous. At the beginning, students should not be overwhelmed by too many possibilities.


Contrapuntal Scaffolding and Diminution

A central idea of Baroque counterpoint is that schematic frameworks exist. For example, a Romanesca with a 4–3 / 9–8 suspension chain creates a predetermined contrapuntal structure that allows for diminutions, in other words, figurative elaboration. All diminutions that fill out this scaffolding without disturbing its contrapuntal substance can be regarded as standard diminutions. When teaching schemata I present many such models to students.

Students need concrete models so that they have reliable examples. Eventually they begin to understand the underlying strategy and can create their own legitimate variants. Some diminutions appear extremely frequently, and I emphasize these particularly during the process of internalization through transposition.


Using Modern Terminology to Describe Historical Music

I think every analytical tool is legitimate if it helps illuminate structural phenomena, but choosing the right tool is a matter of appropriateness. I like to compare analytical methods such as functional harmony, Roman numerals, Förster’s bass-degree theory, or pitch-class set analysis to telescopes used in astronomy. Different telescopes reveal different aspects of the universe depending on the portion of the electromagnetic spectrum they observe. Similarly, analytical tools reveal different aspects of music.

If you analyze a Corelli trio sonata using purely functional harmony, you will see something, but you may fail to understand the contrapuntal mechanics, the schemata, and the modulation strategies. In such cases a pattern-based Partimento approach may be more appropriate.

Modern harmonic theory often conceives tonal music as a sequence of vertical chord structures, which creates a somewhat static picture. In many cases this distorts the compositional reality, particularly in earlier music.

Baroque music certainly contains chords and chord progressions, but it should often be understood as a dynamic contrapuntal continuum made of interwoven modules. Nevertheless, I try to remain pragmatic. Some modern terms remain useful. For example, the term secondary dominant clearly describes a recognizable phenomenon.

Ultimately I try to use terminology that the student understands while gradually introducing historically informed perspectives. What I strongly dislike is the unthinking rejection of either historical or modern analytical approaches. Ideally one should be able to use both, since each reveals aspects that the other might overlook.


Breaking the Rule of the Octave into Modules

I have some particular views on the Rule of the Octave. In several historical treatises it is not presented as a single ready-made structure but rather as the final result of smaller building blocks that I call RO modules.

These modules are essentially binary harmonic units such as:

  • 7–1
  • 2–1 or 2–3
  • 4–3
  • and the 6–5 unit

The 6–5 module is the most complex because it allows a wide variety of figurations and chordal possibilities. This kind of chunking is extremely important for improvisation. Each module requires time to explore its many variations and possibilities. The idea itself is not my invention. Music theorists have described this principle under the concept of modularity.

Recently I discovered an original source that develops this exact method: Carl Czerny’s Studien zur practischen Kenntnis des Generalbasses auf dem Pianoforte Op. 838. By focusing on individual modules one can systematically explore diminution strategies and sequential possibilities, which is precisely what Czerny demonstrates. There will certainly be tutorials on this topic on my YouTube channel en blanc et noir in the near future.


If You Study Partimento, Are You Stuck in the 18th Century?

For me Partimento represents a way of thinking about tonality, not merely a method for realizing Neapolitan bass lines. It is fundamentally a comprehensive theory of compositional craft. The Czerny source mentioned earlier demonstrates how this tradition continued well into the nineteenth century. Many other examples exist, including works by Kalkbrenner, Förster, and Cherubini.

These nineteenth-century sources show that the approach can adapt stylistically without losing its essential principles: a bass-centered perspective, the relationship between scale degree and figuration (Akkordsitz), and the importance of sequential thinking. Historical case studies also show that conservative training does not necessarily produce conservative artistic results. Wagner and Chopin both learned their craft through eighteenth-century methods but became highly original composers.

If you study their scores carefully, you will often find traces of thoroughbass schemata underlying their music. Chopin’s frequent chromatic passages based on the fauxbourdon or 7–6 chain provide just one example. Such phenomena demonstrate a stylistic transformation of surface detail built upon eighteenth-century voice-leading principles.


Romantic Treatises and the Continuation of Thoroughbass Traditions

Kalkbrenner’s Harmonielehre provides a particularly good example of this continuity. Sequential thinking remains a hallmark of the Partimento tradition, and this feature appears clearly in Kalkbrenner’s treatise. Many examples demonstrate standard sequential bass patterns such as the circle of fifths, ascending fifths, and the Romanesca.

These examples appear as fully realized musical sentences similar to those found in eighteenth-century Italian sources. At the same time their surface style reflects the brilliant piano style of nineteenth-century Paris. Carl Czerny offers another interesting example. His generation of chords remains remarkably conservative and closely resembles the approach found in Johann David Heinichen’s Der Generalbass in der Komposition, written nearly a century earlier.

Heinichen’s treatment of dissonant chords is essentially contrapuntal. He begins with the four fundamental dissonance-resolution patterns (2–3, 4–3, 7–6, and 9–8) and explores the harmonic progressions that arise from them. Czerny’s Op. 838 follows a similar structure, although implicitly. He does not explicitly reference Heinichen or the theoretical framework.

In historically informed theory this phenomenon is often called implicit theory: theoretical principles that are not explicitly stated in a source but can be inferred by modern readers.


Ear Training in Universities

This is a difficult question. There are many problems, and I can only speak from my experience in Germany. When I examine entrance-exam materials from many German conservatories, I still see a strong emphasis on what I call the drill-and-practice tradition.

By this I mean ear training exercises that isolate individual musical elements such as intervals, chord identification, or abstract rhythms. These exercises often have little connection to real musical contexts. Many teachers still rely heavily on this approach, and it seems to persist as an unquestioned ideology.

Drill-and-practice teaching does have practical advantages. Lessons are easy to prepare, and the exercises are easy to grade in written examinations. However, the underlying assumption reflects a scientific model: that understanding a complex phenomenon requires breaking it down into isolated components.

In music this assumption can be misleading. Recognizing isolated chords does not necessarily lead to an understanding of harmonic processes. This problem is closely related to the traditional chord-to-chord model of harmony teaching.

Other issues also exist, such as the difficulties of teaching ear training in large group classes where students have very different levels of ability, and the relatively common lack of basic vocal skills among students.


Improvisation, Composition, and Performance

Returning to the topic of ear training, I believe that nothing trains the ear better than improvisation. I experienced this personally, and I observe the same phenomenon regularly in lessons. I often use the method “I demonstrate, you repeat and transpose,” which encourages attentive listening and natural ear development.

In general, it is beneficial for musicians to acquire as much structural knowledge about music as possible. Such knowledge provides criteria for evaluating repertoire.

One can ask questions such as:

  • Is a piece structurally complex?
  • Is it superficial?
  • Is it inventive or merely conventional?

Developing the ability to reflect on such questions independently, without relying on external authorities such as encyclopedia articles or famous labels like “late Beethoven,” is a worthwhile goal. What I cannot tolerate is the empty worship of composers or works without understanding their merits.

The deeper one studies musical structure, the more clearly one perceives compositional quality. At the same time, improvisational practice develops what might be called an individual musical taste. Both processes ultimately shape how one evaluates performances and compositions.

Keyboard improvisation also raises interesting questions about the origins of musical ideas. Some musical gestures clearly arise from the physical interaction with the keyboard, while others originate in abstract compositional planning. Different musical styles may emerge from these different creative processes, which I find a fascinating subject for further study.