Clarification: is there a set, standard amount of time, such as “one second”, that a “measure” of music lasts…? I understand that “4/4 time” means “four beats per measure”, but unless the length of time a “measure” lasts is consistent between songs, how does that make sense?
absolutely not; timing in music is not dependent on measure length, but instead based entirely on tempo. there ARE certain time signatures that are typically faster, such as 6/8, but there is no true standard and even 6/8 can be slower than 4/4, depending on the tempo. hope that helps!
who is responsible for this
Larghissimo — very, very slow (20 bpm and below) Translation*: plenty of time to get distracted between measures. Or notes.
Grave — slow and solemn (20–40 bpm) Translation: just serious enough for nervous laughter during rests. Avoid eye contact with anyone.
Lento — slowly (40–60 bpm) Translation: it is actually possible to fall asleep while playing an instrument, to the confusion and horror of your teacher.
Largo — broadly (40–60 bpm) Translation: dramatic grand gestures while sober. Think sweeping.
Larghetto — rather broadly (60–66 bpm) Translation: dramatic grand gestures while drunk. Slightly more manic or erratic
Adagio — slow and stately (literally, “at ease”) (66–76 bpm) Translation: Julie Andrews, Queen of Genovia, is entering the room. Plenty of time to focus on hitting the right notes b/c u cannot fuck this up.
Adagietto — rather slow (70–80 bpm) Translation: the high school graduating class of 2018 is entering the room. 40% elated 70% bored. Mostly restrained by the staff, still want this over with.
Andante moderato — a bit slower than andante. Translation: a steady meander in the woods. Fast enough to be interesting, slow enough to savor.
Andante — at a walking pace (76–108 bpm) Translation: CPR speed! Do you have Stayin Alive or Another One Bites the Dust in your head? Either way good luck remembering your melody now.
Andantino – slightly faster than andante. Translation: Just saw someone you do NOT want to talk to but you don’t want to draw attention. Always feels slightly forced. That’s fine.
Moderato — moderately (108–120 bpm) Translation: Marching is the tenuous balance between comfortable speed for walking and comfortable speed for music. Much easier when not in a parade.
Allegretto — moderately fast (but less so than allegro). Translation: the piece is probably in moderato but you’re having fun! You totally got this! Everything’s a bit fast but you’re still hitting all the notes! Go you!
Allegro moderato — moderately quick (112–124 bpm) Translation: Approximately dancing speed, depending on your confidence and the degree to which you know where all your limbs are at any given time. Jam a little in your seat. It’s okay.
Allegro — fast, quickly and bright (120–168 bpm). Playful, for flirting without words. Wink as needed without losing your place.
Vivace — lively and fast (≈140 bpm) (quicker than allegro) Translation: That was probably too much coffee but it’s FINE. It’s probably not physically possible for your heart to beat out of your chest.
Vivacissimo — very fast and lively. Translation: Either you’re showing off or the composer wanted you to suffer. Probably the former.
Allegrissimo — very fast. Translation: You’re not one of those aerobic respirators are you? You can breathe when we finish this piece. Hold on for the ride.
Presto — very fast (168–200 bpm) Translation: use popcorn popping as your metronome. Doesn’t actually have a regular beat but at this speed neither do you.
Prestissimo — extremely fast (more than 200bpm) Translation: you don’t know what’s happening and neither does your conductor if you have one. Reeds are splitting, strings are snapping, wind instruments can’t feel their tongues. Flail your fingers and prey.*.
…But why do you need an object to go to the bathroom? Does it unlock the magic bathroom door?
a hall pass is a thing you can show to school staff to prove you’re wandering the halls with your teacher’s permission, not skipping class. once upon a time it was a piece of paper, but people kept losing those, so around the time i was in high school, teachers started taping the school-issued cardstock hall pass to things like blocks of wood, plastic flowers, and plush toys, to make them harder to lose.
apparently it wasn’t enough.
Also people would steal them so they could have a get out of jail free card if they got caught skipping class.
It’s a little bit easier to find a stolen giant pencil than it is to find a stolen hall pass
This is eaxctly why hall passes have gotten so extreme.
this is fucking surreal and only adds more weight to my theory that the american public school system is (barely) held together by a dark and arcane magic
Also a fact
Bold of you to assume that American public school systems are held together at all.
Okay, it’s official. I’ve found my favourite historical anecdote of all time.
So in ancient Rome they had this tradition where they had to consult the gods and check they had divine approval before they went into battle. They did this by bringing forth a flock of sacred chickens and throwing grain at them. Their behaviour would then determine whether or not the gods were on your side. If the hens didn’t eat or wouldn’t leave their cage, it was a Bad Omen and you had to postpone battle and ask again the next day. If the chickens ate happily it was a Good Omen and you could go and chop up some Gauls or Carthaginians or whoever you happened to be fighting.
Now, there are lots of little stories about these chickens, but I just found one I hadn’t seen before. In 137 BC, the consul C. Hostilius Mancinus tried to take auspices before battle, but:
the chickens once released from their cage fled into a nearby wood and even though they were sought with the greatest diligence, they could not be recovered.
Can you fucking believe that. Can you actually believe that happened. The Romans have a reputation for being so stern and sensible and stoic and that happened. Like… everyone’s ready for battle, so you turn to your assistant and say “BRING FORTH THE CHICKENS” and you throw down the grain and open up their cage and the chickens just. run. they fucking run. those tiny velociraptor bastards abscond screaming into the woods like there’s no tomorrow. Blinking in disbelief, you send soldiers into the woods to recover them but those feathered bandits are gone. Vanished. The gods have deserted you. You’re beating bushes and following the sounds of triumphant clucks. The soldiers are frantic. The chickens are gone.
He lost the battle. It was a Bad Omen.
That sounds like the ultimate Bad Omen like at that point you go home and start drawing up an armistice bc the gods told you to go fuck yourself with chickens
That’s… pretty much what happened. The chicken omen, along with a few other Bad Omens, resulted in:
infelici pugna, turpi foedere, deditione funesta
“a lost battle, a shameful peace treaty, and a calamitous handover.”
so yeah, he lost the battle and had to go home and sign an embarrassing peace treaty that the Romans complained about years later, and when they talk about him they curse him for his praecipitem audaciam – “reckless audacity” – and vesana perseverantia “insane obstinacy” because NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU’D LISTENED TO THE CHICKENS AND POSTPONED BATTLE LIKE THEY TOLD YOU.
Don’t forget naval commander Claudius Pulcher, whose sacred chickens refused to eat anything before the battle of Drepana. He tossed the chickens overboard, saying if they won’t eat, then let them drink, and went into battle where he promptly lost almost all of his ships and crew. I forget if he died or returned to Rome in disgrace, but it was a freaking disaster and the sacred chickens called it.
I’m not sure which phrase in this post is my favorite, “bring forth the chickens” or “this would have never happened if you listened to the chickens.”
What about Pulcher’s line: “Bibant, quoniam esse nolunt!” – They can drink if they won’t eat! – after which the sacred chooks went swimming.
I bet the spreading news of what he’d done ruined the morale of his entire fleet and went a long way towards why he lost the battle. Men who think their commander has offended the gods aren’t going to fight well on his behalf, in case the gods spread their offended wrath around. (If I remember my “Myths of Ancient Greece and Rome” correctly, the Olympian lot tended to do that a lot.)
AFAIK when Pulcher* returned to Rome in disgrace the Senate immediately tried him for impiety (a Senatorial message to the gods that they didn’t approve of him either) then banished him to exile where he died soon after.
Moral: don’t be horrid to the holy hens.
(*For the second time in this post, spell-checker wanted me to spell his name as “Pucker”. Appropriate, I suppose. Go figure.)
Beltainefaerie's Flights of Fancy 