Anna Amalia: Four Regimental Marches

It is no secret that women and minorities are frequently overlooked in the broad history of Western music. I find it particularly frustrating that women and minorities were (and are) not given the same opportunities that wealthy white men could afford. So, it is no surprise that out of the choices we were given for our listening journals, I chose a female composer.

Through some extensive research, I learned that Anna Amalia was a princess and her father despised music but loved unnecessary shows of military force. Only after his death could she pursue music, which was "her secret consolation against his cruelty to her."¹ She studied music theory and composition with Johann Philipp Kirnberger, who studied with J.S. Bach.

The pieces are four marches Amalia composed, each dedicated to a different military general or count. As a whole, they are influenced by the Rococo style, but not within strict boundaries. The style of a march does not quite give itself to a lovely melody like one would expect of the Rococo style, but the impression of the pieces is well within the Rococo framework. All four pieces are in some variation of the binary form (AABB, ABAB, AABA) with the opening theme well present throughout the entire piece. They all also hint at the sonata-allegro form in terms of tonality, beginning in a tonic key, moving to the dominant, transitioning through a short modulatory development period, and moving back to the tonic. (Count Lottum, General von Saldern, and General von Moellendorf begin in C, modulate to G, then back to C; General Buelow begins in F, modulates to C, and back to F though I am not sure why it is the only piece in F. My speculation is that Amalia sets him apart because the general himself loved music.) All four pieces are short and in moderate tempos, the harmonic structure is very simple, and there is no counterpoint. There are no string instruments in the ensemble; rather, there is a small group of wind instruments and a small group of brass instruments (one player per instrument), some percussion instruments, and slight variations on what instruments are included from piece to piece.

Count Lottum (1767) begins the collection, which does not match march expectations at all. It is very much a "Rococo march," as it is light-hearted, has a small sound due to the small orchestra, and it sounds more intimate than what we would expect of a march. It is more of a small processional. Amalia includes a timpani but does not include a snare, which is only used for the pieces dedicated to generals. General Buelow (1767) does feature a snare, but Amalia also groups the wind and brass instruments against each other in more of a call and response fashion. General von Saldern (1768) solidifies this feature, and the wind instruments and brass instruments switch off for the duration of the piece, entirely separated from each other. It is almost as if Amalia gives metaphysical characteristics to both of the groups of instruments, separating war and art as far as she can. General von Moellendorf, composed ten years later than the previous pieces, sounds the most important of the four. I am not sure whether or not that is true, or if it just sounds that way because her compositional style is more advanced. She introduces cymbals to this character, but more significantly, achieves dynamic contrast through her orchestration and, most likely, dynamic markings as well. Moellendorf is the only piece of the four that has distinct shifts between loud and soft. Amalia also utilizes sequencing in the piece, which she did not in the previous three.

It was interesting to listen to these pieces for several reasons. First of all, although the pieces are called "marches," they are a different style of march that I had not heard before and it is always great to have expectations thwarted. I also found it fascinating that Amalia chose to compose "regimental marches" long after her father was dead, considering the fact that he was, literally and figuratively, a militant force in her life, and she sought refuge in music to escape him. Listening to these pieces was also a tiny window into what music instruction and composition might have been like for female aristocracy.

That being said, the force behind the music is far more compelling than the music itself. None of the four left me with any melody to hum as I walked away (and I listened to them many times), or, frankly, any incentive to listen to Amalia's other compositions. I did not dislike the pieces so much as I found them lackluster and run-of-the-mill musically. They left me with the impression that these had been composed many times before, and written in a much more interesting way by someone else. The music does not leave much room for interpretation, and I am not surprised they are not performed or recorded often. I am not disappointed to have heard the four regimental marches, however. The pieces and their background did give me some insight to the time and geography in which they were composed.

¹ "Princess Anna Amalia of Prussia," Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Princess_Anna_Amalia_of_Prussia (accessed January 20, 2010).