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David Fuentes – Figuring Out Melody
the 24 Universal Melodic Figures
(the building blocks of melody)
The table is interactive! Click on a figure to see and hear examples.
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
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,” from a large work for choir that deals with waking humankind from its spiritual stupor.
“As Time Goes By,” by H. Hupfeld
“Penny Lane,” by Lennon & McCartney
“Wachet Auf, Ruft Uns Die Stimme,” by J.S. Bach
In common usage, a trill is a melodic embellishment produced by rapidly alternating two notes a step or semitone apart. It closely resembles the way that speakers of certain languages roll their R’s (always with great gusto), which is also called a trill (or to linguists, “trilled rhotics”). The name “Trill” fits this figure, even at such a slow speed.
The three samples here show a few 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. And in “Back to You,” we get a sense for how versatile the Trill is. The alternating notes not only easily adapt to the sassy rhythm, but they also make it pop.
“A Modern Major General,” by Gilbert & Sullivan, with new lyrics by Randy Rainbow
“Iron Man,” by Black Sabbath
“Back to You,” by Selena Gomez
When we say that something oscillates, we mean that it swings back and forth in a steady motion. If you want to cool an entire room with a small fan, get one that oscillates.
But to say that music "swings" means something altogether different. And that is why we call this figure the Oscillator and not the Swinger. Depending on who performs it and in what style, the Oscillator may or may not swing. No guarantees here.
The Oscillator sounds more harmonic, more resonant than the Trill, its close cousin. And it usually feels differently, as well. The Trill can come off as introverted when compared to the Oscillator. What do I mean by that?
The oscillating interval in the Trill is the more restrained, “close to the vest” second; while the Oscillator juggles its more extroverted harmonic 3rd or even other intervals out in the open. Other intervals? Correct. The Oscillator can activate any two notes of a harmony, whether they lie close together or far apart. You’ll hear this in the Mozart sonata, which oscillates chord tones more than a third apart.
“This Old Man,” a children’s counting song, here by the Jackson 5 on The Carol Burnett show, 1974 (Michael sings “He played five.”
“Over the Rainbow,” by Harold Arlen
“Sonata in D,” K.576 by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
The Rx-5 gets its name from its outer two notes, typically the root and 5th of a chord or key. The middle note lies a step away from either of the outer notes. The “x” in this figure’s name indicates that there’s flexibility regarding the middle note (including chromatic variation, which we cover in the Field Guide).
Although the outer notes are most often the root and 5th of a chord or key, many a melody will use this figure for its characteristic shape without following its harmonic norms. Explaining this very quickly gets very granular. If you’re interested, be sure to refer to the Field Guide. In the meantime, consider the third example below, which demonstrates how harmonically versatile the Rx-5 can be.
“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 “picture it” as much as imagine it. “Try to feel the sort of kinetic momentum that includes some indirection.
There’s nothing straightforward about the Pivot figure. Sometimes, it is literally about indirection (as in “Honesty,” below). But other times, it’s about stretching or reaching, then pulling back from fear of going too far (as in the other two examples here).
“Up Where We Belong,” by Will Jennings, Buffy Sainte-Marie, and Jack Nitzsche
“Honesty,” by Billy Joel
“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 “outside” note, counting note #1 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 Majorby Luigi Boccherini
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
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 goal of Parkour is to move from point A to point B across any landscape in the fastest way possible using efficient movements over or around obstacles. Parkour involves seeing one's environment in a new way, navigating across, through, over and under its features.” These objectives arise from Georges Hébert, the founder of the “parcours du combatant” (obstacle course), which he created for military training.
True parkour is highly disciplined. But it’s given way to a more popularized, flashier version known as “freerunning.” The goal of freerunning is self-expression through creative interaction with fixed objects in an objective environment. This might include daredevil leaps, gratuitous flips, and ricocheting off any and all vertical surfaces.
The fixed objects for both versions of the Parkour figure are strictly defined (always two chord tones), as are the means of navigating between them (leap-step or step-leap). That said, the spirit of this melodic figure embraces the non-conformist, showy attitude of freerunning. In the end, I decided on the label Parkour for its alliteration with other like-minded athletic figures that begin with “P”: the Pivot, Little Holy Phillip, the Pendulum, the Plectrum, and the Parkour. Now you know where to turn anytime your tune needs a little twist (or a big one).
Notice the grey notes in the example above. They show that the Parkour figure always avoids the more direct route in favor of something more obtuse.
“My Favorite Things,” by Rogers & Hammerstein
“I Love You,” by Billie Eilish
“Triumphal March,” from Aida, by Giuseppe Verdi
“Plectrum” is a fancy name for a guitar pick. The melodic figure called the Plectrum is an arpeggio in a shape that defies strumming. Each note has to be plucked independently.
Like the Arch, this figure makes an arch shape, but with three notes rather than four.
“Imperial March,” by John Williams
“Feeling Groovy,” by Paul Simon
“Violin Concerto in E Minor” by Felix Mendelssohn
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 front part of this simple figure is an arpeggio. The “plus” note is a passing tone or neighbor note, added to make a smooth bridge to the upcoming note or figure.
“Morning” from Peer Gynt, by Edvard Grieg
“Hush, Little Baby,” a Carolina folk song
“Come Sail Away,” by Styx (Dennis DeYoung)
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 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
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 Funnel offers convincing evidence that composers imagine shapes as we compose. How else can we explain the narrowing series of leaps that make up this figure? However we conceive of this figure’s structure, it seems more the result of doodling than serious draftsmanship.
The Funnel is a clear descendant of the Little Holy Philip, and as I’ve suggested above, can arise from continuing the pattern of growing leaps in reverse. 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 try to separate chord tones from non-chord tones—good luck with that—we find that each time this figure appears, it receives a new harmonic treatment.
“Someday My Prince Will Come,” by Larry Morey & Frank Churchill
“Dreams,” by Stevie Nicks
“Great is Thy Faithfulness,” by William Runan and Thomas Chisholm
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]
We offer:
blogs and videos on the materials and mechanics of melody.
the Figuring Out Melody eBook and Workbook (available for purchase).
the Practical Glossary of Melodic Terms [in development]
the Field Guide to Melodic Figures (available for purchase soon).
links to articles, books, and websites about melody.
private coaching.
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 composes music for the classical concert stage, theater and musical theater, television, art installations, popular music genres, and the church. A published author, Fuentes has written on music composition, 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.
The Field Guide to Melodic Figures will begin to appear by early winter 2020 as a subscription service.
We plan to offer an online course in early 2021.
The Practical Glossary of Melodic Terms will continue to grow.
We plan to grow an online community for feedback and encouragement on each others’ melodies.
Watch for periodic videos on topics of interest, including spotlight studies of songs and artists of note. (Suggestions and requests welcome!)
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