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David Fuentes – Figuring Out Melody
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Part II of the eBook gives instructions for setting up a framework for counterpoint, then shows how to embellish that framework to create interesting textures, harmonic tension and release, nuanced cadences, and imitative counterpoint. So why is a workbook necessary?
So glad you asked!
The workbook breaks things down even further than the eBook, starting with basic drills before jumping into broader applications. In addition, the exercises will challenge you to use each skill in a variety of ways—ways you probably wouldn’t think up on your own.
126 exercises; 6 analysis projects; 7 composition projects; scores for 8 inventions and 5 fugues; 185 pages
It’s easy to read the eBooks and feel that you understand everything. Maybe so, but probably not. As wise old Benjamin Franklin once said, “Tell me, and I forget. Show me, and I remember. Involve me, and I learn.”
That’s why I urge you to pick up the workbook! It’s full of exercises, analyses, and projects that will make you try out the skills and apply the concepts. It’s the best way to get involved.
I designed everything in the workbook to make you master mechanics and stretch your imagination. An answer key in the back of the workbook lets you know right away whether you’re on the right track. Besides solutions, there is commentary that explains any “tricky” spots in the exercises.
105 exercises; 8 analysis projects; 8 composition projects; 131 pages
This volume draws on your expertise in solo melody to help you compose professional-sounding counterpoint (two melodies played at the same time) – an essential skill for any composer.
Six chapters cover “counterpoint basic training,” but in a new way. Traditional methods for writing counterpoint are based on intervals. But tonal counterpoint is not based on intervals, it’s based on harmony. Figuring Out Melody is the first method to show how to use chord tones to write counterpoint.
The rest of the book breaks down several of the most sophisticated compositional forms into step-by-step instructions.
In the end, your counterpoint skills will transform all the music you compose: piano music, chamber music, choral music, pop songs, art songs, film scores, EDM, video gaming, and sound design!
This volume covers the basic principles of melodic figuration in a straightforward, practical way.
In Chapter One, you’ll learn a simple way to sketch and revise a melody. You’ll never be stuck for a melodic idea again. You’ll learn how to control melody’s harmonic and metric properties. You’ll learn formulas for making melody sound predictable (straightforward) and indirect. And you’ll discover strategies for balancing the two.
And that’s just in the first three chapters! (12 more to go in this volume)
You’ll also learn how to use “tendency tones” to add expression to your melodies; how to make one melody sound like two people are playing; the trick to working with arpeggio figures; dozens of ways to vary and develop your tunes; a new, foolproof way to modulate, and more!
[1] The straight line. There are three ways that a melody can move in one direction.
[2] The wavy line. A wavy line changes direction several times within a tight registral space. In each of the examples above, the span from the highest to the lowest notes is a 4th.
[3] Big swoops. By “swoop,” I mean a large up and down motion.
[4] Little loops. A melody makes little loops when it reuses a few adjacent notes in close succession
[5] Holding still. Many lines that hold still contrast a sustained tone with some sort of motion before or after.
[6] On and off. Once you get the hang of “perforating” a melody, you’ll won’t believe how many melodies use this technique.
[7] Traveling patterns. A more common name for “traveling patterns” is a “sequence,” though many sequences are made of longer patterns (over 3 notes).
[8] Floor to ceiling. The gap between the high and low registers can be smaller or larger than the octave gap shown here.
Notice that there are three 3-Note Scale figures (3NS) in this excerpt (four, if we include the “torso”—the first three notes—of the Return figure). They each have a different rhythm. This emphasizes the idea that the same figure can produce unlimited gestures, depending on the rhythmic values, number of repeated notes, metric placement, etc.
the 24 Universal Melodic Figures
(the building blocks of melody)
The table is interactive! Click on a figure to see and hear examples.
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At the heart of the 3-Note Scale lies the most resonant sound in music: the harmonic third. Thirds form the harmonic foundation of music throughout the world. We rely on them to construct chords, contrast emotions, and harmonize songs around a campfire with our friends. What does this have to do with the 3-Note Scale? The 3-Note Scale takes this most crucial element of harmony and turns it into a little melody.
“But,” you protest, “it’s so boring. Step-step up; or step-step down. How can I write an interesting melody from such a nothing?”
That’s like asking how so much astounding architecture can arise from combining rectangles, or how so many life forms from the carbon atom. Wherever we look in our universe, we find that the most crucial building blocks are also the most humble.
The excerpts I’ve chosen barely scratch the surface of what the 3-Note Scale can do—the incredible variety of emotions and ideas it can produce. You’ll hear a folk song that captures our common desire for meaning followed by its polar opposite: a cocky, flirtatious strut. Finally, the piano concerto theme feels immensely personal, like something between a dream and a diary entry.
“Blowin’ In the Wind,” by Bob Dylan
“Cool,” by the Jonas Brothers
“Piano Concerto #3,” by Sergei Rachmaninoff
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In general use, the term “auxiliary” refers to something that adds to or extends the capabilities of something else. So when you add a printer to a computer, the printer becomes an auxiliary device.
And so it is with the melodic figure dubbed the Auxiliary. We hear its main note, a chord tone, two times: once at the beginning, then again at the end. The add-on note – the auxiliary portion of the figure – is an upper or lower neighbor note.
“Silent Night,” by Franz Xavier Gruber
As far as “extending the capabilities” of the chord tone we turn into an auxiliary, take a moment to try to imagine the melodies below with repeated notes rather than the auxiliary tones the composers heard fit to include.
“Bad Romance,” by Lady Gaga
“Toreador Song,” by Georges Bizet
To create an arpeggio, we perform the notes of a chord one at a time rather than simultaneously.
Groups of notes written first as a chord, then an arpeggio
Now there’s no rule that says we must begin at the bottom and run through the notes in order or the top and cascade down. In fact, there are many different patterns you can make with nothing but chord tones. And that’s why we have so many types of arpeggio figures.
But when we do perform the notes of a chord in order without changing direction, we get the simplest of all the arpeggios, the Arpeggio.
“Ring of Fire,” by Johnny Cash
“Sesame Street,” by Franz Xavier Gruber
“On the Beautiful Blue Danube,” by Johann Strauss Jr.
The word “run” is already in use in music. It either refers to a long scale or a somewhat fancier bit of melodic fluster (sometimes called a “riff.”) At FiguringOutMelody.com, the melodic figure we call the Run is exactly four notes long, and those notes always form a scale.
Of the many ways to use a Run, one easily comes out ahead of the rest. The Run often paints in broad or medium-long strokes. Sometimes these gestures join together to cover a large amount of registral space (as in “Penny Lane”). Other times, they don’t move very far but sway over a secure foundation (as in “As Time Goes By”) But Runs can also have a far nimbler side as we hear in “Wachet Auf.”
“As Time Goes By,” by H. Hupfeld
“Overkill,” by Colin Hay
“Wachet Auf, Ruft Uns Die Stimme,” by J.S. Bach
Here’s a case where we have two very similar figures that count as one. (The other instance is the Parkour figures.)
The Trill. Outside of FOM, a trill is a melodic embellishment produced by rapidly alternating two notes a step or semitone apart. And the term trill also applies to the way that speakers of certain languages roll their R’s (always with great gusto). We include it as a melodic figure because so many melodies use a slowed-down version of the alternating stepwise action.
The Oscillator. When we say that something oscillates, we mean that it swings back and forth in a steady motion. If you hope to cool an entire room with a small fan, get one that oscillates. The difference between a Trill and an Oscillator is that every other note in a Trill is a neighbor note, while every other note in an Oscillator is another chord tone.
The three samples here show two possible effects of the Trill. “A Modern Major General” uses the alternating notes to create interest during what is essentially a rap. The Trill figure in “Iron Man” resembles a true embellishment, though of course, slower. The third excerpt is an example of an Oscillator.
“A Modern Major General,” by Gilbert & Sullivan, with new lyrics by Randy Rainbow
“Iron Man,” by Black Sabbath
“Over the Rainbow,” by Harold Arlen
There are a lot of different types of arpeggio figures. If you hope to keep them straight, watch for two things. First, each type of arpeggio figure has a unique shape. (The one we’re looking at now, is shaped like an arch.) Second, that shape results from calculating the direction of each leap. To produce an Arch, we leap twice in one direction and once in the opposite direction. Or once in one direction, then change direction for the last two leaps.
The size of the leaps doesn’t matter, though when all the leaps are roughly the same size (as in the first two figures), we get a more balanced arch.
By far, most arch figures equally-proportioned leaps, as reflected in the excerpts below.
“I’ll Fly Away,” by Albert E. Brumley
“Royals,” by Lourde
“Surprise Symphony,” by Franz Joseph Haydn
3PN stands for a “3-Note Pentatonic” scale. Or more accurately, a 3-note slice of a pentatonic scale, because as you probably know, pentatonic scales (in either their major or minor versions) contain five notes, not three.
Notice that the pentatonic scale is a little wonky, what with its odd gaps every few notes. (Most “scales” move by step.)
We can divide a pentatonic scale into five different 3-note groups. When we do, four of those groups include one of the gaps illustrated above.
Note the similarities between the 3NP and its more symmetrical cousin, the 3NS (3-Note Scale). Whereas the 3-Note Scale always spans a third from first to last note, the 3NP always spans a 4th.
“Youngblood,” by 5 Seconds of Summer
“La Donna È Mobile,” from Rigoletto by Giuseppe Verdi
“Girl from Ipanema,” by Antonio Carlos Jobim
To pivot means to swivel or turn; to change direction. Picture a footballer using fancy footwork to drive the ball toward the goal. Don’t just “picture it.” Try to feel its kinetic momentum: moving one direction, then darting off in the opposite direction.
"Up Where We Belong" uses Pivot figures to get us to feel we are at the upper limits of what is possible.
“Up Where We Belong,” by Will Jennings, Buffy Sainte-Marie, and Jack Nitzsche
Don't miss the irony as Billy Joel sets the word "honesty" to an evasive melodic gesture.
“Honesty,” by Billy Joel
It's hard to express melancholy without sounding sentimental. Yet Rachmaninov pulls it off here by starting each Pivot figure as a strong dissonance.
“Adagio,” from Symphony #2 in E minor, by Sergei Rachmaninov
Nature abhors a vacuum. So does melody.
Any figure that ends opens up a gap (especially a leap of a third) invites the next note to fill up the little hole. So in the example below, versions A and B show the most predictable outcome for a melodic figure ending with a small leap. Versions C and D show how this same 3-note link can occur within one figure—namely, the “Little Holy Phillip” (L.H.P.)
So, about the name. A main principle in melodic figuration is that we make melody by connecting figures together. The end of one figure with the beginning of the next.
Now imagine that we could take a stop-frame video of the melodic motion between figures. Wouldn’t that help explain why some melodies feel continuous and others don’t?
THWANK! Stop imagining. We CAN INDEED observe the ways that figures link up, and no special equipment is required. Just track the steps and leaps to discover us all we need to know.
“Imagine,” by John Lennon
“Harry Potter Theme,” by John Williams
“Symphony No.8” II, by Ludwig van Beethoven
The Return figure gets its name from its proclivity to return to its starting note, as shown in the example below.
Outcome A below shows the most predictable destination of the Return figure: note #1 = note #5 (with note 5 being the first note of the next figure).
Outcome B shows another (less-) predictable path: note #5 = note #3. In other words, using this second option, the figure “returns” to the “middle” note, counting note #3 as “home.”
In the first two melodies below, the Return takes the most predictable outcomeas described above (outcome A). But in the third exceprt, the Strauss melody, we the Return doesn’t return. It LEAPS! The Return is one of many figures that is sometimes used for its smooth-as-silk behavior, and other times—when its natural connection is broken—to add a bit of complexity.
“Senorita,” by Shawn Mendez
“Bohemian Rhapsody,” by Freddie Mercury
“Voices of Spring,” by Johann Strauss, Jr.
While the names of most melodic figures serve as mnemonic devices, “Crazy Driver” one is a contender for the most quirky. How can a melodic figure act like a Crazy Driver? Let me explain.
The most predictable destination of the Crazy Driver—its “5th note”—lies a 3rd above or below the starting note.
But notice the path it takes to get there. Rather than steering directly toward its goal, the Crazy Driver figure begins with a swerve in the wrong direction! It’s a lot like an automobile driver who can’t seem to turn into a driveway on the right side of the road without first swerving left! That crazy driver!
And the name still fits when we consider another predictable destination of the Crazy Driver: to return to the original note. Here, the motion of the melody mimics a (distracted? drunk?) driver who can’t manage to drive in a straight line.
The designation “crazy” has absolutely nothing to do with how this figure sounds. There’s hardly a better choice for making smooth, gentle waves, as in the first two examples below. The third example shows quite a different sound, using the Crazy Driver as an ornate pickup to kick off a bit of syncopation.
“Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho,” a Negro Spiritual
“Every Breath You Take,” by Sting 
“Minuet” from the String Quintet in E Major by Luigi Boccherini
The bulk of this figure is an arpeggio. The “plus” note is a passing tone or neighbor note, most often added at the end to make a smooth bridge to the upcoming note or figure (though occasionally, the non-chord tone can come at the front).
“Come Sail Away,” by Styx (Dennis DeYoung)
“Ring, Ring the Banjo,” by Stephen Foster
“Morning” from Peer Gynt, by Edvard Grieg
The term “Parkour” comes from the French word “parcours,” meaning “the way through,” or “the path.” If you take this to imply “moving along a logical path to find the quickest way from point A to point B,” you’re missing a key element of Parkour the sport. The Parkour practitioner intentionally looks for obstacles to jump, bounce, or scoot over, around, or under. And those who use the barriers to execute the flashiest and most difficult stunts earn greatest respect among their peers.
Melody doesn’t always take the most logical route from point A to point B, either. We can sense a strong gymnastic spirit in the two versions of the Parkour figures illustrated below. In each case, the first and third notes are always chord tones, and there’s a clear and direct route between them. That direct route is indicated by a shadowed notehead.
As you study the Bounce and the Pounce, don’t just try to memorize the formulas. No, no, no! Instead, picture yourself crouching and leaping, or leaping then shuffling your feet to regain your balance.
“My Favorite Things,” by Rogers & Hammerstein
“I Love You,” by Billie Eilish
“Triumphal March,” from Aida, by Giuseppe Verdi
The Vault has two things in common with the two Parkour figures (the Bounce and the Pounce) 1. It’s a 3-note figure that takes an indirect route between the two outer notes, typically chord tones.* and 2. It contains a step and a leap, though not always in that order.
The main difference from the Parkour figures (the Bounce and the Pounce) is that the Vault’s step lies inside the outer notes of the figure.
“Hush, Little Baby,” by Carolina folk song
“Maria,” from West Side Story by Leonard Bernstein
“The Swan,” by Camille Saint-Saens
*At least the outside notes are usually two chord tones. Remember, with figuration, we focus on shape, which means that sometimes, chord tones and non-chord tones can get redistributed.
The Roll has two component parts: a 3-Note Scale plus a leap of a 3rd in the opposite direction to the 3-Note Scale. The result is a figure where the first and last note of the Run always match, whether the 3-Note Scale comes at the beginning or end of the figure.
“Hava Nagila,” an Hassidic folk tune
“Stand By Me,” by Ben E. King, Jerry Lieber, and Mike Stoller
“The Cancan,” from Orpheus in the Underworld, by Jacques Offenbach
The Double Neighbor figure gets its name from tabulating the number of non-chord tones present. We hear one “main note”—a chord tone—twice: at the beginning and the end.
The two notes in the middle are both neighbor notes—one higher than the chord tone; one lower. This creates a little “illegal” hole in the middle. Why is it illegal? Because one of the primary rules in melody forbids leaping between non-chord tones. But here is an immensely popular figure that does just that! Perhaps this is why the Double Neighbor figure is one of the only patterns that is already universally recognized as a melodic figure? Theorists figured they’d better proactively name one of the only acceptable exceptions to one of their staunchest rules.
“Mona Lisa,” by Nat King Cole
“If I Can’t Have You,” by Shawn Mendes
“Waltz” from the Swan Lake Ballet by Pyotr Il’yich Tchaikovsky
The Double 3rd figure gets its name from the way it melodicizes a common method for harmonizing a simple scale in thirds. But rather than playing the thirds simultaneously, they are stretched out in time.
“Invention #1,” by Johann Sebastian Bach
“Cherish,” by Terry Kirkman
“Sidewalks,” by The Weekend
The pendulum has two notes that move (or “swing”) by step as if swinging from a middle “fixed” note.
“Norwegian Wood,” by Lennon & McCartney
“Eastside,” by Benny Blanco, Halsey, and Khalid Robinson
“Juliet’s Waltz,” by Charles Gounod
The Leaping Scale is a 4-note figure made from two elements: a 3-Note Scale plus a leap to a different chord tone. (if the isolated chord tone matched the first note of the figure it would be a Roll.) Either the scale or the leap can come first. The leap can be small or large. And the direction of the leap can match the direction of the scale or contradict it.
Two factors make the Leaping Scale harmonically vivid. First, the outer notes of the 3-Note Scale are chord tones. And second, the leap occurs between two chord tones. Typically, this means that each Leaping Scale contains a root, third, and fifth.
“Old Town Road,” by Lil’ Naz
“Prelude,” from Suite #2, for unaccompanied ‘cello by J.S. Bach, bars 26-31
“The Raiders March,” by John Williams
The color-coding on the table of 24 common melodic figures shows three main categories of figures: scale, neighbor, and arpeggio. But as you look and listen closely to each of the 24 figures, you’ll hear some scale figures that include one or more leaps; You’ll notice that at least one neighbor figure contains a 3-note scale; And you’ll discover a fair bit of neighbor motion in figures that are mostly arpeggios.
In short, many of the melodic figures on the table are hybrids. But because hybridism is so rampant, there’s not much point in treating it as anything special.
So how do we decide whether to put a melodic figure in one category or another? There are two things to look for. (1) Majority rules. Is most of the figure a scale, neighbor, or arpeggio? and (2) Behavior. Does the figure act as a scale, neighbor, or arpeggio?
The Leaping Auxiliary (L.Aux.) is 3/4 neighbor figure, plus a chordal leap. The auxiliary or the leap may come first or last. The leap can be in any direction relative to the auxiliary. Here are but a few possible combinations.
“Breakdown,” by Tom Petty
“Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay,” by Otis Redding
“Pavane,” by Gabriel Fauré
The Pendulum Auxiliary is an amalgamation of two 3-note figures: the Auxiliary and the Pendulum.
“What’s Goin’ On,” by Marvin Gaye, Al Cleveland, and Renaldo Benson
“Hold Me Now,” by Tom Bailey, Alannah Curie, and Joe Leeway
“The Hallelujah Chorus,” by George Frideric Handel
The Funnel offers some of the most convincing evidence that composers imagine shapes as we compose. How else can we explain the ever-narrowing series of leaps that make up this figure? Perhaps as a backward extension of the Little Holy Philip? Keep that in mind as you listen to “Someday My Prince Will Come,” where the pattern stretches back even further.
We classify the Funnel as an arpeggio because it leaps until it runs out of room, not because it spells any particular harmony. In fact, the Funnel has the most ambiguous harmonic structure of all the figures, which is to say that it doesn’t fit into any particular harmony. Even if we find a way to separate chord tones from non-chord tones in one instance of the Funnel (and good luck with that!), it's not likely to work out the same way in other appearances.
“Someday My Prince Will Come,” by Larry Morey & Frank Churchill
“Dreams,” by Stevie Nicks
“Great is Thy Faithfulness,” by William Runan and Thomas Chisholm
Most of the names for the 24 Universal Melodic Figures have a mnemonic function. The name tells you something about the figure that not only helps you remember it but use it. Not so with the Cambiata figure. The figure traces back to 17th-century Italy and derives its name from an Italian verb meaning “to change.” If it were clear to anyone what sort of change occurs within this figure, that might end up being helpful. But no such luck. I only use the name Cambiata because that’s what other people call it, which brings up an interesting point about figure names.
The Cambiata is one of two figures that use standardized names. The other figure is the Double Neighbor, which sometimes goes by the name “changing tone” (in English). Why do none of the other 22 melodic figures have names? Likely because they are so ubiquitous that nobody thinks they deserve special recognition.
The behavior that merits special recognition in the Cambiata (and also the Double Neighbor) has to do with the “hole” in the middle of each figure. Music theorists have never known how to explain how a figure that leaps to and from dissonant notes can sound so graceful. So they simply provide guidelines for how to handle it, never bothering to elaborate on the “broken rules.”
We won’t go into the strict guidelines for using the Cambiata in classical styles here. More important is that the attractiveness of this figure comes from the way it goes “too far” (passing its destination) before returning to the intended goal. It’s a routine we’ve encountered in the L.H.P. and the Double Neighbor.
“There Goes My Life,” by Kenny Chesney there-goes-my-life
“Cheek to Cheek,” by Irving Berlin
“The Washington Post March,” by John Phillip Sousa
The Zigzag figure changes direction after every note, making it the most indirect way to arrange the notes of a single harmony. Now typically in figuration, the more times a melodic figure changes direction within itself, the more complicated it sounds and feels. This is certainly true of the other two figures that change direction after every note: the Double Neighbor and the Double Third. But for some reason, the Zigzag figure usually makes a melody sound more playful than elaborate.
“Your Smiling Face,” by James Taylor
“Trumpet Concerto in Eb Major,” III by Franz Joseph Haydn
“Die, Die, Die,” by the Avett Brothers
If this rhythm template looks familiar, it’s because you already used it for exercise #2. With new instructions, you’ll produce a new melody—or at least a significant variation.
Engineer a hard connection between bars 3 & 4 or bars 4 & 5. Remember, to make a hard (expressive) connection, leap “away” from the 3-Note Scale. If your 3-Note Scale goes up, leap down. If your 3-Note Scale goes down, leap up.
If you’re feeling ambitious, write a second version that makes hard connections between bars 3 & 4 AND bars 4 & 5. Key: F Major. The first notes already establish the key so you are free to begin bar 3 as you wish 
You have three 3-Note Scales to work with for each phrase. Arrange at least two of those 3-Note Scales to stretch out into a scale. Depending on how you connect to the other figure, your scale might be six, seven, or nine notes long.
Key: C major. Start with a 3-Note Scale that uses C-D-E or E-F-G (ascending or descending). 
There are two phrases in this exercise. Both open in the same way. You’ll run three 3-note scales in an overlapping sequence. That means that the middle note of each 3-Note Scale becomes the first note of the following 3-Note Scale. Use the examples in the lesson as a model if you have trouble.
Notice the two single pickup notes. (One is a pickup to bar 3; the other to bar 7.) You can match the upcoming note, repeat the previous note, choose some new note, whatever. Experiment! And look for more lessons on pickup notes from FOM.
Just to be clear, in bar 3, you need to spread a 3-note scale across a 4-note rhythm. (You did something similar in exercise #1.) Make sure to try several options before locking into one.
Key: D minor. Start with a 3-Note Scale that uses D-E-F or F-G-A (ascending or descending). 
Each phrase already starts with a 3-Note Scale. To create a “treadmill” effect, repeat the first 3-Note Scale several times in a row. How many times? That’s up to YOU! There are several great solutions. After you stop repeating the initial figure, find a compelling way to finish each phrase.
Key: C major 
Each exercise has “ghost notes” that indicate the rhythm for the 3-Note Scales you’ll compose. For example, this: 
becomes this: 
Begin each exercise with a 3-Note Scale that spans the Root & 3rd or the 3rd & 5th of the home chord of the key. After the first figure, feel free to start your 3-Note Scale on any note you wish. Use your ear. If a 3-Note Scale sounds harsh or wonky, replace it with one that sounds better. Precise (intentional) harmonic treatment is not necessary to make these exercises sound great.
Your 3-Note Scales can ascend or descend.
You can connect to the next 3-Note Scale by step or leap (though some exercises request a specific connection).
Keep working on each exercise until it sounds good enough to play for a fellow musician.
EXERCISES FOR #1: TIME-WARP
In the first melody you write, most of the rhythms have three notes, so you can just plug in a 3-Note Scale, and you’re good to go. But notice the two 7-note rhythms. You’ll have to repeat some notes within the 3-Note Scale. But which ones? Here are just a few common ways to spread a 3-Note Scale over this rhythm. 
Key: G major. Start with a 3-Note Scale that uses G-A-B or B-C-D (ascending or descending). 
Variation: Put the 3-note rhythms in the upper register and the 7-note rhythms in the lower register. Or vice-versa.
Now for this second melody, you have fewer 3-Note Scales to write. So why not compose at least three different solutions? Using a different strategy each time will make each one unique. Strategy? The variation for the previous exercise gives an excellent example of a strategy.
Key: D major. Start with a 3-Note Scale that uses D-E-F# or F#-G-A (ascending or descending). 
Choose one 3-Note Scale to use for bars 3-4. If your 3-Note Scale ascends in bar 3, make those same three notes descend in bar 4 (or vice-versa). You’ve made an “up & down 3-Note Scale pair.”
Now that you’ve established some “registral boundaries,” it’s time to break them!
At bar 5, start the 3-Note Scale on a note that was not one of the boundary notes in bars 3-4. (It can be a new note—a note that isn’t part of the up & down pair of 3-Note Scales. Or you can start on the middle note of your up & down pair of 3-Note Scales.)
The second phrase (starting in bar 9) works the same way as the first. It’s common for a second phrase to repeat all or most of the first. If you’d rather try something different, variations might include transposing the second phrase (most commonly up or down a step) or writing a new gesture for part or all of the second phrase.
Key: F Major. The first notes already establish the key so you are free to begin bar 3 as you wish. 
Each of the 24 Universal Melodic Figures can appear in many different versions. For example, here are just a few ways we might encounter the 3-Note Scale.
To keep the table simple, the figures are written as prototypes—something much like the root position of a triad. Each figure on the table starts on the root of C major harmony, without rhythmic variation or repeated notes, with small rather than large leaps, and in ascending order (with one exception).
Each exercise has “ghost notes” that indicate the rhythm for the 3-Note Scales you’ll compose. For example, this:
becomes this:
Begin each exercise with a 3-Note Scale that spans the Root & 3rd or the 3rd & 5th of the home chord of the key. After the first figure, feel free to start your 3-Note Scale on any note you wish. Use your ear. If a 3-Note Scale sounds harsh or wonky, replace it with one that sounds better. Precise (intentional) harmonic treatment is not necessary to make these exercises sound great.
Your 3-Note Scales can ascend or descend.
You can connect to the next 3-Note Scale by step or leap (though some exercises request a specific connection).
Keep working on each exercise until it sounds good enough to play for a fellow musician.
For a printable pdf of all the exercises click here.
For image files (for use on a tablet) click here.
For MIDI files (for use in a DAW or notation program) click here.
Here are three factors that combine to make the music reinforce the meaning of the words in the bridge of “Hard Days Night.”
1) Routine. Both 4-bar phrases use the same pair of 3-Note Scales (G-F#-E; E-F#-G) to set up the final note. The first time through, the phrase ends on F#, the inner note the 3-Note Scale. The F# feels comfortable and secure. But then the second phrase breaks this routine by landing on a foreign note.
2) Register. The note A is the highest in the melody, which as a general rule, flags it as a goal. But it feels it feels audaciously high here because it breaks the boundary set TWICE by G: once as the “ceiling” of the opening gesture of the phrase, and again as the top note in the up & down pair of 3-Note Scales.
3) Rhythm. Hear the overt delay before the word “tight.”
I wouldn’t be a genuine Beatles nerd if I didn’t pull up the song “Piggies” at this point. The main figure in “Piggies” is not the 3-Note Scale, but the Roll. The Roll is a 4-note figure built on 3-Note Scale chassis. The 4th note returns to (or restates) the first note.
“Piggies,” by George Harrison
To me, moving (transposing) each Roll figure down a step doesn’t create the same “confined space” effect that the up & down 3-Note Scale pairs do. I can’t yet put my finger on exactly why. How about you? What do you think?
The purpose of this variation exercise is to give you a sense for “playing around” with 3-Note Scales, not to produce a masterpiece. “Playing” with melodic building blocks is an essential part of composing. If you’re not happy with many of the melodies you write, could it be because you haven’t yet learned to play? (I don’t mean to sound insulting, but what if I’m right? Let’s see how you feel at the end of the lesson?)
Keep the rhythm of the Beatles’ original song. Use nothing but 3-note scales to write two more variations, much the same as I did in the lesson.
[your first version]
[your second version]
My study of melodic figuration began over 30 years ago. Part of this involved finding, naming, and cataloging figures. As one might expect, that early work would likely need some revision at some point. Surprisingly, all of the categories and names I assigned figures in the eBook still apply, with some slight modifications.
1. My earliest estimate held at 21 figures until just recently. After more extensive archeology during the past two years, that number now stands at 24. The new total is the result of both additions and consolidations.
2. Arpeggio figures now have names.
3. The Similar Leap and Contrary Leap scale figures have been consolidated into one parent figure: the Leaping Scale. However, you will do well to use the original names alongside the parent name.
4. Similarly, the Quasi-dot and Back-kick auxiliary figures have been consolidated into one parent figure: the Leaping Auxiliary.
5. This last point doesn’t manifest in the Table of 24 Common Melodic Figures, but you will notice “unusual metric placements” as you peruse the examples. What do I mean by “unusual metric placements?” In the Figuring Out Melody eBook, all figures begin on a beat. The eBook deals primarily with instrumental music. While finding ways to apply my figuration techniques to vocal music, it became clear that all 24 figures sometimes begin before, on, or after a beat. The simplest way to explain how and why this is so is that lyrics form phrases that coincide with a figure shape.
If you are unclear about what a melodic figure is, I introduce them in other videos and blogs. In particular, you may wish to begin with these:
People who can write great melodies possess an intuitive sense for melodic figures, the basic vocabulary of melody. They’re like master improvisers who seem to create endless, effortless streams of new ideas. (I checked, and it’s ok to secretly hate such people.) Here’s a little secret. The improviser’s endless, effortless streams of new ideas are hardly new! Master improvisers draw from pre-existing patterns and reassemble them. So do master songwriters and symphonic composers.
And remember, an unconscious choice is still a choice.
Now, if you cannot currently compose as well as you want to, I can tell you precisely what your #1 problem is. You’re not tapping into your underlying knowledge of the melodic vocabulary. Rather than working with the 24 common figures that everyone else uses, you construct each melody from scratch, writing one or two notes at a time. Not only is this a big waste of time and energy, but the melodic material you create in this way also doesn’t sound “musical.” (And that’s why you don’t like some of your original music.)
Now the good news. Learning the 24 common melodic figure patterns will uncover what lies buried way back in the recesses of your musical subconscious and bring it forward where you can use it. You’ll be able to use figures deliberately, which is fantastic when you get stuck or want to fix a humdrum melody. But even more importantly, it won’t take long for the figure patterns to become automatic responses – unconscious choices. In other words, you’ll work more like a master composer. You’ll rely on a richly-trained intuition most of the time, and shift into a more conscious mode as needed.
The Director of Figuring Out Melody is Professor David Fuentes. Dr. Fuentes brings over 30 years of teaching experience from institutions that include Berklee College of Music, the University of Iowa, Brandeis University, and Calvin University.
Fuentes left academia to devote full time to composing and taking Figuring Out Melody as far as possible. He composes music for the classical concert stage, theater and musical theater, television, art installations, popular music genres, and the church. A published author and speaker, Fuentes has written and spoken on film music, songwriting, musical theater, vocation and the arts, and the place of music in human flourishing.
You can find samples of his music and writing on his personal website: davidfuentesmusic.com, which also provides a longer bio.
Here is where we’re headed.
