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Some Common Italian Terms in Musical Notation


Here are common verbal terms of musical notation, chiefly Italian, seen in scores, sheet music, and reviews of performance. These terms help the performer in dynamics (the volume of the note), tempo, pitch, rhythm, and other niceties of musical performing style.

None of these instructing Italian adjectives, gerunds, nouns and hints are precise. A passage marked presto (play it very fast) to one pianist may be a machine-gun nightmare of prestissimo (very, very fast) to another. Musical style is relative and individual. We’ve all heard Handel played so molto adagio that one would think his “Arrival of the Queen Sheba” was a funeral dirge for a mafioso’s pet leopard.

Why are the words preponderantly Italian? Because so many conventions of European musical notation began in Italy. What I’m doing here is defining common terms and adding pert etymological chitchat.

A cappella

It’s Italian and, referring to choral music, means ‘as if sung in a chapel, that is, vocal music sung without instrumental accompaniment. A cappella’s opposite is cantata ‘sung with accompaniment.’ On a pop song level, barbershop quartets and doo-wop groups usually sing a cappella.

Adagio

The instruction here is: play it slowly, gracefully, bathed in ease and sweet leisure. The Italian adagio is made up of Latin ad ‘to, for’ + Italian agio ‘ease’ perhaps borrowed from a word in Provence, namely aize, from the Latin adjective adjacens ‘lying nearby, adjacent.’

Allegro

Of the five common indications of performing “speed,” allegro follows directly after presto “fast.” Allegro’s prime, non-musical meaning in Italian is ‘merry’ or ‘cheerful.’ Most cheerful music is played quickly and so the passage marked allegro is to be played in a lively manner at a pert tempo. There are musical variants of the word: allegretto adds a diminutive suffix that changes the meaning to ‘not quite so quick, moderately fast.’ The superlative adjective suffix –issimo added to make allegrissimo suggests that one play the music very fast but not as fast as a passage marked presto. Joy can be translated into Italian as allegrezza.

The Italian allegro is a dialect pronunciation from alacrem, a Latin accusative form of alacer, a common Latin adjective that means speedy or fast and gives us an English noun alacrity ‘speed.’

The first meaning of Allegro in English was happy. Consider the title of Milton’ famous poem “L’Allegro.” 

Andante

Andante in music means played ‘at a walking pace, a moderate tempo.’ It’s an adjective of present-participial form from andare Italian ‘to go, to walk, to travel.’ This andare is a very late form. It does not appear in classical Latin. We must define a linguistic term to explain it. Suppletion happens in languages when some forms of a common verb are simply not used, not available in common speech, so therefore forms derived from an entirely different root are used in the verb’s paradigm. Andare may be evidence of suppletion of Latin verbs like vadere ‘to go’ or ambitare or ambulare ‘to walk along,’ from which English derives words like ambulate, perambulator, to amble.

Arpeggio

Add an h to the front of this word to get its meaning ‘like a harp.’ Arpeggio notes are to be played quickly in usually ascending order. In piano music, arpeggio solves the problem of a wide-ranging chord whose notes cannot be played simultaneously by a normal pianist’s hand. Arpeggiare is Italian and means ‘to play the arpa [harp].’

 

Cantabile

Its literal sense in Italian is ‘singable, able or worthy to be sung.’ Music marked cantabile is to be played in a singing style, full of expression and flowing melodiously. Moderato cantabile directs the player to a style not quite so “singy.” Cantare is Latin ‘to sing.’ Dozens of French and English words sprang from that root: cantor, chanter, cant, cantata, enchanting, enchanté, recantation.

Con Brio

“With vigour or spirit” is the English translation. Such markings are imprecise in the extreme and much is left to the performer’s sense of appropriate tempo. Brio is now common in English as a stand-alone noun. Other “with-it” musical phrases are con fuoco ‘with fire’ and con slancio ‘with enthusiasm.’

Con Sordina or (plural) Con Sordine

It means ‘with a mute’ or ‘with mutes.’ Instruments may have their tone softed by wood, rubber, metal, or plastic devices. String instrumentalists clip mutes to the bridge of, say, a violin. Brass players insert the mute in the bell of a trumpet or horn. After a passage of muted playing, senza sordina may appear. This is an instruction to remove mutes, literally in Italian ‘without mute.’ The Italian root word is sordo ‘deaf, muffled, dulled.’

 

Crescendo / Diminuendo

The present participle of the Italian and Latin verb crescere ‘to increase’ is a musical instruction to make the music progressively louder. To make music progressively softer, fainter is diminuendo, present participle of diminuire ‘to lessen, o diminish.’ Many English words spring from these stems. A crescent moon is one that waxing, growing bigger. It is increasing. Decrease the excrement is a politer mode of saying, “Cut the shit.”

Da capo

“From the start, from the head, from the beginning.’ Da capo is placed at the end of a musical passage, instructing the player to repeat it from the beginning. The end of the repeat is also marked with a pause or with the word fine (Italian ‘end’).

Fortissimo

Marked in the score ff, this means play it very loud. Very softly would be its opposite: pianissimo. The piano’s name descends from one of its early names, the pianoforte ‘the soft-loud instrument.’ If the composer wishes to deafen nearby listeners, a passage can even be marked with a word of double superlative form: fortississimo or fff: ‘as loud as humanly and instrumentally possible.’

Glissando

A glissando (plural: glissandi) is a glide from one pitch to another. It is a hybrid Frano-Italian musical word, an Italian present participial suffix added to a French verb glisser ‘to slide, to slip, to sweep, to glide.’

Lento

This Italian adjective means ‘slow,’ so play it that way. If the composer wants ‘very slow,’ the Italian superlative adjective is used: lentissimo.

Maestoso

Play it full of maesta ‘majesty,’ in a grand and stately fashion. This might appear on a march written for a royal wedding. Maestoso ma non troppo might be read on a less important piece: please, not too pompously, or literally as the Italian says, “in a grand manner but not too much.”

Pizzicato

David Rose’s “ Holiday for Strings” has pizzicato all over the score. It instructs the violinist to pluck the strings with his fingers instead of bowing. From a 6 th-century Italian verb pizzicare ‘to twang a string, to pinch, to pluck’ from il pizzo ‘point.’

 

1538 CE — Germany: Heinrich Aldegrever portrays a trio of trombonists in a woodcut titled Die Posaunisten (The Brass Players) from the series “The Great Wedding Dances. ”

 

Scherzando

Or scherzoso ‘in a lightly playful manner, sprightly.’ From Italian scherzo ‘joke, trick, prank.’ It’s one of the rare Italian musical terms that stems from a German word Scherz ‘joke.’

Scherzo itself names a symphonic movement, usually the second or third movement in a symphony or sonata, of a lively, upbeat character.

 

If you enjoyed this modest intro to the nifty names in musical notation, simply reread it da capo al fine.

 

Andrea Andreani, The Triumph of Julius Caesar, c. 1599

 

 

copyright © 2012 William Gordon Casselman

 

 

 

Read My Other Columns

1. Wind Words like Simoom, Mistral & Williwaw

2. A Potpourri of Popery: Papal Regalia Words

3. Abacus: 3,000 Year-Old Word

4. Byblos/Bible & Papyrus/Paper

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Any comments, additional word lore or book orders?

Please email me at

wordguy@shaw.ca

 

 

Reviews of my Book

Click bookcover for preview

Jenni French of San Francisco, California writes on her blog "My Corner of the Universe" for March 19, 2011:

Casselman, Bill. Where a Dobdob Meets a Dikdik: A World Lover's Guide to the Weirdest, Wackiest, and Wonkiest Lexical Gems. Avon, MA: Adams Media, 2010.


"I admit it: I'm a word nerd. I love words: weird words, long words, obscure words, funny words.  This book is right up my alley.  With chapters like "Nautical Words," "Creepy Words," and "Edible Words," I have enjoyed every page of this book.  And the author has quite a way with words, so I have found myself rereading many sentences in this book and slowing my progress through it.  My current favorite sentence is found in a discussion of dog hybrid breed names: "What a revolting concatenation of cutesiness and smarmy nomenclatorial treacle parading under the name of canine hybrid breed names" (19). I'm sure I'll have another favorite sentence in a day or two.  This book is just that good and just that entertaining."

Author Bill Casselman replies: "Thanks, Jenni!"

Just a reminder that this book contains my ALL-NEW word essays, none of which are available anywhere else in print or online.

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A Great New Review of My Latest Book!

October 26, 2011 Welcome to the Enchanted ForestBy WB Johnston

This review is about Bill Casselman’s latest e-book about words: Where a Dobdob Meets a Dikdik: A Word Lover’s Guide to the Weirdest,Wackiest, and Wonkiest Lexical Gems (Kindle Edition)

“Wade Davis, lately of National Geographic, once described each living language as “an old-growth forest of the human spirit.” Once you decide to enter the kleptomaniacal woods of our mother tongue, what you need is more than a tour guide. This is no Disney-fied ‘keep-your-hands-inside-the-car-at all-times’, point A to point B, clear-cutting mining of language. You, here, are in the hands of Sir William of Cassel, a genuine shaman modestly posing as a simple lover of words.

In the best of the spiritual tradition, Bill is the shape-shifter who constantly leads you to all the places you need to find in your soul. Every page is a new country, an invitation to an excursion into the wonderland of rich connections with the myriad of sources of what so often we unthinkingly wield as a prosaic tool.

Pay absolutely no attention to anyone who tells you that this book is anything but pure gold. It’s simply not true, sadly, that all the world loves a lover. Particularly someone whose love is so boundless.

But Sir William is fearless. You don’t earn your keep as a medicine man if you have a thin skin. While I cannot for the life of me understand how anyone could walk away from this book unmoved by its wit, its wisdom and the beautiful transparency by which the author celebrates the glorious romp of our almost unlimited linguistic exuberance, I have to sadly conclude that once in a while, you do meet someone who can’t see the forest for the trees, eh?

Read this book. Leave it on the sofa instead of the $%#!*$% TV remote. Maybe someone you care about will pick it up, even just for a moment, and fall in love with their heritage? Leave it on your desk at work and trust that someone will riffle through it when you are out at lunch. Shamans are magicians of the highest order. The work of their hands and hearts is game-changing. Or, hey, put it on your Kindle and just feel comforted that you can wander back out into the forest with Bill even in the middle of a boring lecture.

Enjoy.”

Casselman replies: Thank you so much, Dr. J., for the kudos.

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Cindy Lapeña on her blog "Creativity Unlimited" of July 19 ,2011, writes:

Posted by mimrlith in 365 Things to Look Forward to.
Tags: 365 things to look forward to, books, reading
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19. Starting a book

To a certified bibliophile like me, a.k.a. bookworm, one of the most exciting things to look forward to is to start reading a new book. In fact, sometimes the prospect of starting to read a new book is so exciting that I have to hurry to finish the book I am currently reading, just so I can start a new one. If there’s one thing I can’t resist, it’s a book, especially if it promises to be a good one. Of course there are certain books I just won’t touch or be seen with, but at the risk of being hung by my thumbs by fans of such literature, I will not mention any genres in particular. . . Seeing a book with a title that totally captivates me, like Where a Dobdob meets a Dikdik (yes, that is a book title!) has me so worked up, I just can’t wait to dive in. I imagine all sorts of deliciously fancifully outrageous words with a title like that. Is it obvious? I just love books on words. You won’t believe how many dictionaries I own. Or books on lexical oddities and other lexical explorations. Yes, I am a logophile of sorts. I love the new words I pick up from new books. I relish finding out the meanings of all manner of words and phrases and expressions. What could be more fun?"

(Replies author Bill Casselman: Please scroll to bottom of page or click here to link to a free seven-page preview of my new book, Where a Dobdob Meets a Dikdik.

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Testimonial Email

Thursday, February 3, 2011 Dear Mr. Casselman,
A search for the origins of an improbable-looking word, paraprosdokian, led me to the first piece of your prose I have had the pleasure of reading, "The Bogus Word Paraprosdokian & Lazy Con Artists of Academe." I have just placed an order for Where a Dobdob Meets a Dikdik, Canadian Words & Sayings, and As The Canoe Tips, and will add more of your titles as I finish these.

I have just retired from a 40-plus year career in book publishing, the last thirty years spent as director/editor of a number of university presses, attempting to sort the genuine writers from the "Lazy Con Artists of Academe." Sad to say, the latter have so over-bred the former that I could no longer see the rare gem in the avalanches of offal that daily swamped my office and desk. I visited your website and spent far too long there; it was a pleasure to meet a real writer through his work.. . . I revisited the paraprosdokian page, and have finally quit laughing again at “Casselman's Conclusion.” You were not unkind to the "profligate prof-lets." During my years as an acquisitions editor, in rejection letters I often quoted Prof. Moses Hadas, classicist at Columbia University, who wrote a young scholar in response to having been sent the prof-let's first book, "Thank you for sending me your book. I will waste no time reading it."

I know I will enjoy your books. Keep up the good work.
Thank you,
Luther Wilson
Director (Retired)
University of New Mexico Press, among others

 

 

 

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