Degree Doctor of Musical Arts (D.M.A.)
Institution University of North Carolina Greensboro
Committee Chair Dr. Garrett Klein
Committee Dr. Kailan Rubinoff · Dr. Abigail Pack
Accepted March 25, 2025

Abstract

This document critically examines the historical symbolism of the trumpet, particularly its associations with war, religion, power, and heroism. It also proposes a method for subverting these connotations through performance and multimedia design. Drawing on historical texts, critical theory—especially postmodernism and metamodernism—and interdisciplinary influences like John Cage, Frank Zappa, and David Foster Wallace, the document outlines strategies for recontextualizing trumpet sound. These include the use of collage, irony, sincerity, and narrative disruption to challenge traditional archetypes. The document culminates in an analysis of the author’s doctoral recitals that serve as practical applications of the theoretical framework, demonstrating how programming, narrative design, and multimedia integration can expand the trumpet’s expressive range and support broader acts of cultural critique.

Chapter I

Introduction

The sound of the trumpet has been paired with various narratives, functions, and communications—especially in its earliest forms. Early in the instrument’s development, it was often perceived as a tool of communication by soldiers or civilians alike, rather than an instrument of musically expressive sound. One may have heard the trumpet on the battlefield, in royal courts, or from distant watchtowers signaling arrivals, threats, and reinforcements. Trumpets were painted in portrayals of battle, as mythical tools of angels, or written about in the Bible as the walls of Jericho fell. The sound of a trumpet has often heralded the signal of a hero or reverence for a fallen soldier. In various kinds of media—such as film, literature, or music—the trumpet still often plays these roles as a sonic tool of storytelling.

One can (and should) acknowledge that instruments of all kinds are capable of nearly any expressive quality. This is especially true when sound is analyzed in a social way. When one analyzes and critiques traditional meanings, especially those of sound, new and subversive musical contexts can be created by performers, composers, and theorists. In Musicking: The Meanings of Performing and Listening, Christopher Small states: “If we widen the circle of our attention to take in the entire set of relationships that constitute a performance, we shall see that music’s primary meanings are not individual at all but social.”1 This concept is explored and applied throughout this document.

In exploring research about the trumpet, one encounters a lot of language detailing the trumpet’s early symbolism. Both Edward Tarr’s The Trumpet, as well as a publication of the same title by John Wallace and Alexander McGrattan, present a chronological history of the trumpet from ancient times to the present. Within the opening pages of Wallace and McGrattan’s version, they state the following:

As Don Smithers remarked in his seminal study on the baroque trumpet, “the trumpet is more than a musical instrument: it is an idea, a concept, with deeper allegorical associations.” The symbolism of the trumpet was central to its introduction into art music and has remained a significant determinant of its idiom.2

By referencing the work of Don Smithers—whose influence on the understanding of early trumpet cannot be understated—Wallace and McGrattan continue a dialogue that often centers the trumpet as an allegorical symbol. Wallace and McGrattan also acknowledge that these symbolic representations played a role in how it was introduced into ensembles of Western tradition. Furthermore, they contend that the historical symbolism of trumpet sound has remained a determinant of what is considered idiomatic for the instrument.

Given how much of an influence these sonic symbolisms carry, they are worth interrogating in terms of their ramifications for future developments of trumpet sound. This is especially true as musical communities undergo social change and break boundaries of all kinds—both artistic and social. Moreover, as social landscapes and artistic movements continue to develop, it remains worthwhile to examine how the trumpet and its sonic associations interact with current discussions and tastes. While the instrument’s historical associations with themes like war, power, and religion have been exploited extensively by many composers for several hundred years, failing to interrogate these associations risks narrowing the trumpet’s expressive potential in contemporary settings. Given the ways that current artistic practices frequently intersect with social critique, the trumpet may be able to offer a greater sonic and affective range beyond its historical symbolism. There is room for trumpeters to engage with these developments through the intentional recontextualization of their instrument’s symbolic meanings, as this document will explore.

Trumpeters can benefit from continually experimenting with trumpet sound and its interpretive possibilities, finding ways to resist or expand upon traditional archetypes. Doing so could help trumpet performance remain flexible and critically engaged as culture continues to shift. Additionally, integrating techniques that challenge expectation—whether through narrative design, multimedia contexts, or repertoire—can assist trumpeters in framing their sound within expressions that address issues of representation and social change. This kind of approach does not necessarily aim to discard tradition outright but encourages performers to consider how they might contribute to ongoing cultural critique. In turn, new representations of trumpet sound can be experimented with.

This document will explore and critique persisting representations of trumpet sound in two ways. The first is a brief analysis of two historical texts—both titled The Trumpet—centering the instrument’s symbolic associations as they are described historically. Both of these texts present a chronological timeline of the instrument’s development, both in terms of its construction and also its involvement within various ensembles. After this exploration, I will draw upon an example of film scholarship in which the trumpet is analyzed to symbolize characters, narratives, actions, or objects. In particular, the connections between the developments of the Romantic period and film scoring provide clear examples of the trumpet’s sonic associations. It is especially these encodings of the trumpet’s sound, I argue, which persist in popular culture today.

In addition to the analysis of these texts, this document seeks to propose a method to construct multimedia performances and content that present trumpet sound in ways extending beyond tradition. It is my proposition that programs, performances, and content of this nature can influence perceptions of the trumpet—allowing it to transcend its historical associations. To introduce the theoretical backing of the method, ideas within postmodernism—as well as the emerging ideas of metamodernism—will be explored and defined as foundational bases. Both postmodernism and metamodernism draw from many types of critical theory to interpret larger trends in literature and art as a whole. Within these larger theoretical analyses are very useful expressive inspirations for a trumpeter—or any musician—seeking to expand their instrument beyond traditional meanings. The final section will present a way in which the theory was applied, using my three doctoral recitals as evidence of application.

Chapter II

Symbolism, Social Meaning, and Critique

As chronicled in Edward Tarr’s The Trumpet, some of the earliest representations of trumpet sound were associated with war and/or religious ceremony. The first chapter of the text contains subheadings labeled “The Egyptians,” “The Assyrians,” “The Israelites,” “The Greeks,” “The Etruscans,” “The Romans,” “The Teutonic Tribes,” and “The Celts.” Each of these sections describes the trumpet functioning in martial or ceremonial ways within each of these cultures.3 The historical contexts within these sections establish the trumpet’s origin as a sonically communicative tool—one that, depending on which side one was on, could have inspired victory, renewed resolve, or fear. Wallace and McGrattan go on to note that, “The trumpet’s identity often transcended its utilitarian function by serving as a marker of status and power in belief systems and their consequent ceremony.”4 In this, Wallace and McGrattan acknowledge the “utilitarian function” of the trumpet but also use the verb “transcended” to describe trumpet sound symbolizing ceremony, status, and tradition. This type of language hints at a hierarchy of contexts that depend entirely on social setting. This is not inherently a problematic aspect of the description or methodology—but it assists in framing trumpet sound within social contexts. The transference from warfare, religious ceremony, status, or “belief systems and their consequent ceremony” is framed as a step up in value and societal involvement. Tarr goes on, later in the first chapter, to say the following:

The trumpet of prehistoric times and of antiquity served only as a signaling instrument, and certainly not to produce music in the modern sense. The sound of these instruments was described as terrible, that is, producing terror, and was compared to the braying of an ass.5

In a slightly humorous way, by stating this, Tarr separates the early function (signaling) from “music” entirely. He describes accounts of the sound quality as “terrible,” but in the sense of producing terror. While the separation of sound and music can be useful in describing the history of the trumpet developmentally, many modern media examples reference these “signals”—of which this document uses the terms “sonic symbol” or “sonic associations”—furthering the association that Tarr makes here.

Moving beyond “prehistoric” representations of trumpet sound, Wallace and McGrattan state that, “After 1100, longer trumpets come into the frame and the instrument begins to assume its role in the service of noble and civic establishments as a symbol of high status.”6 In another example, Wallace and McGrattan share an account of Leo the Deacon (c. 950–992):

While his forces were gathering, he trained the men with him in the conduct of war; he sharpened their mettle and toughened them with daily exercises, he drilled them in their combat maneuvers, constantly giving the command to sound the trumpets, beat the drums, and clash the cymbals, to leap upon their horses, shoot with their bows at the target, and hurl their spears straight at the mark.7

Additionally, the authors share the following from a tenth-century military manual attributed to Emperor Nikephoros Phokas (912–969): “…[he added] to the trumpeters’ duties sounding the signal for calling soldiers to prayer before battle.”8 In this case, the traditional pairing of trumpet and percussion is mentioned, centering the instruments in an environment of violence and religious practice. What sets apart this example in the development of the instrument’s historical associations is that the themes of war and religion are sounded simultaneously. In history, war often carries the connotation of imperial conquest or colonization as well, establishing further historical connections between themes that current social movements often seek to resist, repair, or undo. One can separate these social connotations into four categories thus far: utility (signaling), status, religion, and war. Some of the earlier examples fit multiple categories, and trumpeters were called upon to signal them interchangeably.

A subsection within Tarr’s chapter titled “The Trumpet in the Late Middle Ages (c. 1100–1400)” describes the use of trumpet during the Crusades and tracks the history of where developments in the trumpet’s technical design occurred. In the section, there are accounts of soldiers describing the sounds of trumpet in battle. One historical account stands out, as it grants further historical connection to Tarr’s association of the trumpet with terror. Tarr references accounts of trumpets strategically playing either in unison or at random, suggesting an organized use of sound to “frighten the enemy.”9

Fascinatingly, even though the sound of the trumpet symbolized higher status during this era, the trumpeters themselves did not always attain prestige. As Tarr relates:

In the Middle Ages, musicians, actors, and the like were not regarded as having any rights at all, because they generally had no permanent place of residence, appearing here and there at festivals and fairs. The church even denied them the sacraments. In this respect, the trumpeters’ lot was no different from that of other musicians. On the other hand, if any musician succeeded in gaining employment with a court or a city, he was then considered to have rights.10

Here, one can observe an early dichotomy. Trumpet sound sonically symbolized status, yet the players who performed the sound were considered less than what their instrument’s sound signified. This changed over time, as trumpeters were some of the earliest musicians hired by royal courts.11 Since they were among the first musicians to gain employment in a position that granted them status, suddenly trumpeters could have been socially distinguished when compared to other musicians and entertainers of their time. Socially and sonically, the trumpet by the end of the Middle Ages had codified its sonic symbolism that it still carries today in modern media.

The earlier examples of trumpet symbolism drew from ancient times to the end of the 1400s. It would be limiting to base a social interpretation of sound exclusively on early musical eras, especially considering the instrument’s technological developments from the Renaissance through the invention of the valve.

Wallace and McGrattan explore the Baroque and Classical eras in depth, chronicling musical and technical developments for the trumpet. For example, they point to the inclusion of trumpets in Claudio Monteverdi’s Orfeo as a significant development:

Orfeo signified current use and signaled future usage of the trumpet as a melody instrument of heroic character in secular music. In contemporary sacred music, works like the Gaudium Christianum (1617) of Michael Altenburg showed the function of the trumpet to underline the imperial association with God’s power.12

Here again, one can observe a continued association with heroism and religion. Many lyrical sonata movements, ensemble parts, and concerti were developed in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, which expanded the trumpet’s expressive range. Giuseppe Torelli’s trumpet sinfonias and sonatas, composed in late seventeenth-century Bologna, began to develop the trumpet’s capacity to play melodic and virtuosic melodies. J.S. Bach’s writing for trumpet, particularly in works like the Brandenburg Concerto No. 2, or his sacred cantatas, required performers to navigate technically demanding and lyrically expressive material—often very high in register.

By the latter half of the eighteenth century, the trumpet became more integrated into varied musical settings. While these developments added nuance to the trumpet’s musical function, much of the lyrical playing in these contexts was arguably abstract in nature—these developments may be read as aesthetic experimentation rather than intentional symbolic upheaval. Themes of power, ceremony, and martial tradition remained prominent. Wallace and McGrattan, when describing the Classical period, state the following:

Classical style music modulated more freely and widely within movements than baroque music, reducing the trumpet’s role in the orchestra to fanfaring at openings, endings, and returns of the home key, and to adding weight and grandeur, in conjunction with the timpani, to the orchestral sonority.13

Here, Wallace and McGrattan affirm the sonic pairing of trumpet and timpani, as well as descriptors like “fanfaring, weight, and grandeur.” These limitations were in partial relation to the trumpet’s lack of developed chromaticism, but also affirm the common roles and tropes it was playing up until and during these periods.

In seeking to further acknowledge developments during the Baroque and Classical periods, there exist canonical works for trumpet that contain lyricism. The soft and lyrical expressions in Telemann’s trumpet concerto, Haydn’s trumpet concerto, and Hummel’s trumpet concerto are significant in demonstrating the trumpet’s evolving expressive abilities during these periods. All of these works push the melodic and virtuosic capacities of the instrument, and they offer moments of undeniably lyrical content. When considered against the broader associations of trumpet sound up to and during these periods, these examples can be historically situated as innovative exceptions.

In the nineteenth century, symphonic and operatic writing continued to explore the trumpet’s expressive range in new ways—thanks in part to changes in the instrument’s design. Early valved trumpets were introduced and became more widely accessible, allowing for greater technical flexibility and chromatic possibility. These developments opened the door for more lyrical and varied uses of the trumpet in orchestral writing, beyond its traditional fanfare or martial roles, although the sonic associations with military, ceremony, and religion remained prominent.

Examples of these symbolic developments can be found in the works of Richard Wagner, Richard Strauss, and Gustav Mahler. Both Tarr and Wallace and McGrattan’s texts unpack the influence these composers had on what the trumpet was used to express in orchestral contexts. These new demands placed upon trumpeters were a new technical and expressive challenge, and many were initially apprehensive to embrace them.14 Some of this higher technical demand was due to the fact these composers were writing music that “…used [the trumpet] lyrically and outside its normal context…it was capable of extraordinary melancholy, as Haydn had demonstrated in the second movement of his concerto…”

In the nineteenth century, Wallace, McGrattan, and Tarr all describe that it was surprising to see the trumpet involved in an expressive context outside of its established symbolic associations. However, even with these new demands presented, these composers still often referenced the historical context of what the trumpet had been used for in non-musical contexts. Strauss’s Ein Heldenleben drew from the trumpet’s militaristic associations; particularly in the fourth movement, the trumpet signals calls to battle and represents the hero.15 In his Symphony No. 5, Mahler evokes a solemn, foreboding atmosphere by opening with a famous solo funeral march; one could further mention the numerous other solos from this work, both lyrical and martial in quality. In these examples, one can observe that the trumpet is still being used in ways that correspond with its traditional encodings, but also in some unexpected contexts.

When speaking about the use of the trumpet during the Romantic period, a caveat is necessary. The development of the valve also led to the development of the cornet—an instrument whose history both overlapped and differed from that of the trumpet. At times, they would be sounded together—such as in Hector Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique, or in wind band works of Gustav Holst. The cornet was “at home” in military music, known as a virtuosic instrument in salon music, and was less prone to “blunders” in the high range.16 In a subsection titled “The Cornet’s Threat to the Trumpet,” Tarr refers to the cornet as having had a “beautiful, tender and pleasing” sound, to how the trumpet was still considered more “noble,” and to how Strauss described the cornet as an “abomination.”

Although the cornet and trumpet were considered separate for some time, their histories are intertwined. Joseph Jean-Baptiste Laurent Arban (1825–1889) developed his Grande Méthode in 1864 and it still “forms today the foundation of cornet as well as trumpet technique.”17 Common characteristics of the technical aspects and repertoire written for cornet and valved trumpet are numerous, and in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, they continue to overlap. The “soft, tender and pleasing” aspects of cornet and the “noble” qualities of trumpet come together in solo works for the modern trumpet, such as the many sonatas composed for it in the twentieth century—works by Paul Hindemith, Halsey Stevens, George Antheil, Kent Kennan, Karl Pilss, and others.

Much of the repertoire that trumpeters perform today draws upon the lyrical capabilities of the trumpet. A core aspect of modern trumpet playing is cultivating the softer dynamics, nuanced expressions, and singing qualities that the modern instrument is more than capable of. These qualities differ greatly from the earlier demands that composers had placed on the trumpet. As such, one who studies trumpet as their main instrument may question the rigidity with which the earlier historical contexts still impact the modern trumpet’s sonic symbolism.

By way of response, one might simply point out the persistence of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century works in the orchestral and operatic repertoire today, which continue to perpetuate the trumpet’s earlier cultural associations. Wagner had an especially significant impact on the orchestration of the trumpet and brass instruments in general. Wagner’s technique of leitmotifs created thematic representations that influenced countless composers who came after him. Wallace, McGrattan, and Tarr all acknowledge the many contributions that Wagner made in the representation of trumpet sound, drawing from Der Ring des Nibelungen and Parsifal to demonstrate how his uses of the trumpet’s range, dynamics, and thematic association cast the trumpet (as well as many other instruments) in a new light.18 Wagner’s techniques were especially influential looking forward to the history of film music, where composers often utilized similar approaches. Early orchestral film composers like Max Steiner, Mortimer Wilson, Hubert Stothart, and Dmitri Shostakovich (among many others) all contributed to this musical language.

One modern figure who stands out in this regard is John Williams. Williams has composed some of the most recognizable and widely circulated musical themes in popular culture, and there exist numerous comparative analyses connecting his compositional strategies to Wagnerian models. Many film music scholars have pointed out Williams’s indebtedness to Wagner. Film scholarship speaks to film’s ability to “affect attitudes” toward social or political topics.19 In her 2000 article “Williams versus Wagner or an Attempt at Linking Musical Epics,” the musicologist Irena Paulus writes:

It is not just points of view—there are great similarities in practice. Both Wagner and Williams simply adore the wind section, especially the brass. Whatever they need to express drama, here comes the brass; when tension has to be expressed, there is the brass again; when the music needs to sound softer and warmer (because the context requires it), the woodwind is called up, not, as in many another composer, the strings.20

It is here one can observe a recent manifestation of a historical trumpet thematic association: drama and tension. Descriptions like these recall Tarr’s previously mentioned association of the trumpet with terror. Even after so much development in the context of trumpet sound occurred during the Baroque, Classical, Romantic, and early twentieth century, there is continued perpetuation of these affective and thematic associations in some of the most consumed media of our time. Paulus goes on to state:

When Star Wars appeared in the movie houses, the orchestra came back again to about a Renaissance of symphonic music in the film, and this might be compared with the revolutionariness of the operatic reform of Richard Wagner.21

In connecting the compositional techniques of Wagner to Williams, one traces a long lineage of influence not just in aesthetic technique—but also of social association and symbolism.

One of the overarching goals of this document is to demonstrate a pattern of symbolic associations with trumpet sound that may seem well-established, or even obvious. In doing so, however, one is then able to interact with these connotations as a performer or composer. There are many ways in which one could subvert an audience’s preconception of trumpet sound, but being aware of these associations allows a performer to choose to subvert with intent and theoretical support. The next section outlines some critical theory one can draw from in order to accomplish this goal, should a trumpeter seek to do so.

Chapter III

Theoretical Design

This section seeks to outline a possible theoretical framework for musicians aiming to integrate critical theory and interdisciplinary influences into their performance design. By examining concepts from modernism, postmodernism, and metamodernism, it aims to show strategies and utility of these larger concepts for practical performance. Artists like John Cage, Frank Zappa, David Foster Wallace, and Kathy Acker—each representing distinct disciplines—can also provide inspiration for the integration of alternative aesthetic and philosophical trends into performance practice. These artists can offer musicians, including trumpeters, strategies for constructing works that both challenge and expand the symbolic associations of their instrument. This section also seeks to emphasize how approaches drawn from both music and literature can function to form critical disruptions—subverting audience expectations and resisting established meanings.

While the following exploration is centered in the symbolism of trumpet sound, the methodologies presented here are broadly applicable to performers seeking to create layered and rhetorically charged performances. By combining musical, narrative, and theoretical vocabularies, performers can either center or decenter their instrument or voice—positioning themselves within, or against, the larger cultural trends of modernism, postmodernism, and metamodernism.

To begin, postmodern aesthetics can offer performers a wide array of expressive opportunities through its ability to challenge and destabilize established cultural and symbolic associations. To qualify the term “modernism,” Leon Botstein describes it as:

Modernism in music, between the 1890s and the end of the Cold War, was characterized by an explicit reaction to established traditions; it was motivated by the self-conscious and assertive conviction that the historical moment in which artists, writers, and composers lived constituted a radical rupture with the past, thereby invalidating the aesthetic inheritance bequeathed by the late 18th and 19th centuries.22

These ideas, in both modernity as a time period and as a larger aesthetic trend, are important to properly framing the explorations of postmodernism and metamodernism throughout this document. Rachel K. Fischer, cataloging bibliographer for YBP Library Services, notes the term “postmodernism” was coined in the 1950s but emerged in philosophical discourse in the 1970s as a significant response to traditional cultural structures.23

Postmodernism, with its reaction against metanarratives and fixed cultural meanings, can inspire performers to critically analyze traditional symbols and associations. Postmodern music reacted to the internationalism of modernism and centrality of Europe, and in place of metanarratives it “addresses issues of personal or local relevance.”24 For trumpet, this could include its sonic association with patriotism, heroism, ceremony, religion, or war (as explored in Chapter II). By intentionally challenging these narratives, trumpeters can design performances that are disruptive to its traditional perceptions. Fischer goes on to reference the theorist Jean-François Lyotard’s The Postmodern Condition, which can also offer theoretical inspiration.

Lyotard’s conceptualization of postmodern aesthetics as presenting the “unpresentable” within performance can be informative to design. Lyotard states:

The postmodern would be that which, in the modern, puts forward the unpresentable in presentation itself…not in order to enjoy [the artistic works] but to impart a stronger sense of the unpresentable.25

Applications of this idea in trumpet performance might include the incorporation of unconventional sounds, multimedia approaches, or the adoption of disruptive performance approaches that “present the unpresentable.” Strategies like this can encourage audiences to question their preconceptions and reevaluate the meaning and symbolism traditionally attributed to trumpet music. This approach emulates postmodern critiques of meaning and opens further pathways for politically and culturally responsive performances. In particular, Lyotard’s focus on postmodernism’s rejection of “grand narratives” can inform a performer’s intent to resist tropes and archetypes of trumpet sound. This is especially true if a performer is employing the use of narrative, text, or other forms of multimedia to contextualize trumpet sound in different ways.

Another prominent scholar and theorist of postmodernism, Fredric Jameson, writes on both postmodernism’s critical potential and cultural dangers through a Marxist lens. Given postmodernism’s strong skepticism of truth, history, and narrative, the trends and approaches within it sometimes prompted strong reactions against it. Jameson, through his analyses, was often critical of postmodernism as a cultural movement. He connects it to cultural, material, and social critique within late-stage capitalism: “This unforeseeable return of narrative as the narrative of the end of narratives…suggests the deeper logic of the postmodern, which imperceptibly turns into its own theory.”26

Jameson’s societal critiques could provide inspiration for trumpeters seeking to construct politically and critically oriented performances. Drawing from his Marxist lens, performers could, for example, play satirical reinterpretations of patriotic or ceremonial music to convey a perceived apathy present in a late-capitalist cultural landscape. The trumpet’s historical associations with authority, heroism, and civics could be manipulated through techniques like pastiche, distortion, or the combining of popular media and trumpet sound. In alignment with Jameson’s materialist critique, performers might also center or challenge the commodification of sound itself in some way. Jameson’s theoretical contributions can inform a recontextualization of trumpet sound, displacing its traditional—arguably bourgeois—coding, and creating an opportunity for critique within performance design.

A brief distinction: postmodernist aesthetics and “postmodernity,” which Jameson discusses at length, refer to separate concepts. Postmodernity refers to a time period, whereas postmodern aesthetics refer to particular trends in artistic expression. Jameson’s work interprets larger trends through a dialectical materialist approach, often identifying aesthetic approaches in art. He does not necessarily advocate for these approaches. Often, his work is critical of the aesthetic approaches and cultural trends within postmodernism.

While postmodernist aesthetics often foregrounds dismantling narratives and critiquing systems through irony, parody, and fragmentation—metamodernism oscillates between these postmodernist strategies while also advocating for a return to sincerity and reconstruction. Brendan Graham Dempsey outlines this approach in his monograph Metamodernism, or, the Cultural Logic of Cultural Logics.27 In particular, he describes metamodernism as being “…characterized by an oscillating in-betweenness or, rather, a dialectical movement that identifies with and negates—and hence, overcomes and undermines conflicting positions…”28 Trumpeters drawing from this theory can construct performances that resist closure, subvert audience expectations, and also offer new symbolic representations of trumpet sound.

In exploring metamodernism’s reconstructive goals, Dempsey further explains: “In this way, deconstructive moves which in postmodernism signaled exhaustions and cynicism are appropriated and redeployed towards reconstructive aims…”29 It is in this reconstruction that a trumpeter can acknowledge the historical symbolic associations of their instrument while subverting them at the same time. Also, an interesting detail: the Dempsey publication’s title is a parody of Jameson’s influential work Postmodernism, or, the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism. This kind of referential homage is very indicative of concepts observed in all the theories within this section.

It is worth noting that scholars continue to critique and debate the distinctions and boundaries between these aesthetic movements. For example, in their Routledge Research Companion to Modernism in Music, the editors Björn Heile and Charles Wilson dedicate attention to the relationship between modernism and postmodernism. The authors contend:

Historically, there is music that might be labelled ‘postmodernist’. Yet the need to establish what is modernist or postmodernist now seems less urgent, for the simple reason that postmodernism has provided modernism with the means to broaden its own self-definition.30

This particular passage shows that the conceptual division between modernism and postmodernism is still subject to debate. Whereas this document primarily employs the terms postmodernism and metamodernism, it does so with an awareness that both movements emerge from similar aesthetic histories. While postmodernism is sometimes framed as an extension of modernist tendencies, metamodernism is an even more recent aesthetic movement, sometimes framed as a speculative or emerging response to postmodernism. Yet, even with these debates, each movement offers performers useful strategies. A centering of experimentation and a resistance to tradition runs through them all, providing performers tools to interrogate and reframe symbolic associations.

Postmodernist thought encourages the performer to deconstruct traditional symbols and question cultural assumptions, whereas metamodernism embraces a productive trajectory, one that blends critique with earnest attempts to find or create new meaning. For a trumpeter seeking to experiment with performance design and traditional sonic associations, utilizing ideas and concepts inspired by both postmodernism and metamodernism offers the advantage of flexibility. The performer can destabilize and subvert expectations through postmodern strategies while simultaneously allowing space for reconstruction and sentimentality. This dual approach can create performances that are both critical and affective, while allowing the performer space to experiment with audience engagement and new approaches to trumpet sound.

Interdisciplinary Inspirations

To further explore how these concepts can be implemented, the following subsection unpacks the styles of four artists: John Cage, Frank Zappa, David Foster Wallace, and Kathy Acker. Each exemplifies in their respective disciplines modern, postmodern, and/or metamodern tendencies. Their diverse practices, theories and styles—ranging from avant-garde music to literary and feminist critique—can serve as interdisciplinary inspiration for an experimental performance design that aims to recontextualize the trumpet’s symbolic associations.

John Cage’s musical innovations can offer trumpet performers a source of modern inspiration. His emphasis on silence, chance, and environmental sound can be of particular expressive advantage in the context of symbolism. Trumpeters can emulate Cage’s methods by incorporating aleatoric performance elements, improvisation, or foregrounding ambient sounds and silence within the performance space. Cage’s 4′33″—his “silent piece,” as he referred to it—exemplifies this approach; it is perhaps the most famous example of a challenge to the staid and traditional classical music recital.

Using Cage’s approaches, as well as drawing from his writings, can expand a musician’s expressive tactics. Trumpeters applying these concepts could intentionally blur lines between music and noise, spotlighting ambient sounds typically excluded from traditional performances. Cage’s writings also offer insight into the concept of sound’s autonomy, which could also be useful to performers aiming to expand their timbral palette. The following excerpts from Silence: Lectures and Writings are originally from 1955:

A sound does not view itself as thought, as ought, as needing another sound for its elucidation, as etc.; it has no time for any considerations—it is occupied with the performance of its characteristics: before it has died away, it must have made perfectly exact its frequency, its loudness, its length, its overtone structure, the precise morphology of these and of itself.31

He also reflects on the relationship between humanity, nature, and unintended sound:

…this fearlessness [of a musician abandoning “music”] only follows if at the parting of the ways, where it is realized that sounds occur whether intended or not, one turns in the direction of those he does not intend. This turning is psychological and seems at first to be a giving up of everything that belongs to humanity—for a musician, the giving up of music. This psychological turning leads to the world of nature, where, gradually or suddenly, one sees that humanity and nature, not separate, are in this world together; that nothing was lost when everything was given away. In fact, everything is gained. In musical terms, any sounds may occur in any combination and in any continuity.32

These insights from Cage show the paradoxical nature of sound as both inherently neutral but also capable of symbolic meaning as interpreted by the listener. This provides a philosophical basis for trumpet performers seeking to disrupt or expand conventional sonic associations.

Frank Zappa was another composer who combined musical styles and social critiques in both his music and professional life. His performances used shocking and disruptive tactics that challenged understood social and musical norms. Musicians emulating Zappa can incorporate similar unexpected approaches within their programs. Trumpet repertoire combined with elements of rock, improvisation, or electronics are all possibilities. Zappa’s satirical approach encourages performers to utilize irony, humor, and provocative visual presentations as well. These techniques, by extension, can be used to create performances that further displace traditional symbolism associated with trumpet sound.

Much of Zappa’s music—particularly in albums like We’re Only in It for the Money (1968)—is rooted in a critique of consumer culture and the commodification of art.33 His irreverent treatment of musical and cultural conventions confronts the systems by which commercial entertainment operates in culture. In satirizing this element of popular culture, Zappa often combined rock ‘n’ roll aesthetics with absurd lyrics and psychedelic imagery.34

Trumpeters drawing from Zappa’s creative approaches might also emulate them by satirizing the trumpet’s historical associations with religion, war, or ceremony. All of these themes run counter to many of Zappa’s ideologies. For instance, programming could juxtapose trumpet sound with absurd or grotesque performance elements like amplified distortion, irreverent costumes, or textual elements that center anti-commercialism. This kind of approach, inspired by Zappa’s collaging of sound and absurd lyrics, could enable performers to confront the trumpet’s entrenchment in power structures and traditional aesthetic coding. Performers may also draw inspiration from Zappa by examining his musical philosophy, or they might emulate his devotion to political discourse and freedom of expression. As an example of this, Zappa appeared on the television program Crossfire to debate against columnist John Loften, who was in favor of music censorship.35

Although quite different in delivery from Zappa, the author David Foster Wallace can offer an interdisciplinary extension of these ideas through his literary techniques. Wallace’s commentary on postmodernism and commercial entertainment, as well as his own expressive strategies, are worth exploring if a performer seeks to employ interdisciplinary approaches in their musical design. In a 1997 interview, television host Charlie Rose asked him what the term “postmodernism” meant. Wallace responded:

…oh…no, no, no. “After modernism” is what it means. It’s a very useful catch-all term because you say it and we all nod soberly as if we know what we are talking about when, in fact, we don’t. When I mean “postmodern,” I am talking about, maybe, the black humorists who came along in the 1960s, the post-Nabokovians…the biggest thing that was interesting to me about postmodernism is that it was the first text that was highly self-conscious…self-conscious of the writer as persona, self-conscious about the effects that narrative had on readers…it was the first generation of readers that had read a lot of criticism…36

This hesitant and scrambled answer to the question highlights just how difficult it can be to cohesively define something like postmodernism, yet Wallace historically situated it and provided some expressive characteristics. Wallace’s techniques, often characterized by structural experimentation, complexity, and narrative loops, could inspire potential models for trumpeters aiming to challenge and subvert the trumpet’s traditional extra-musical associations. Performers could incorporate narrative through performing in character, nonlinear musical presentation, or pairings of trumpet sound with both irony and sincerity. The cohabitation of irony and sincerity is evocative of the metamodernist theory explored earlier, and Wallace’s writing has been analyzed in metamodernist contexts.37

Wallace’s fiction, such as Infinite Jest, often experiments with the instability of meaning, an idea that resonates with modernist, postmodernist, and metamodernist approaches. Wallace’s oscillation between irony and sincerity can cue trumpeters to reflect on how these qualities come to be associated with sound. A trumpeter can emulate this dual embracing by fluctuating between traditional trumpet repertoire and transcribed vocal repertoire, for example. Lieder and poetry can be particularly useful, as will be further explored in the following section of this document. Coupling or uncoupling repertoire in this way emulates Wallace’s literary style, giving the design an arguably metamodern sensibility.

Wallace also communicated an anxiety about overusing irony and ridicule as expressive tactics. In his essay “E Unibus Pluram: Television and U.S. Fiction,” Wallace contends that “Irony and ridicule are entertaining and effective, and at the same time they are agents of a great despair and stasis in U.S. culture, and that for aspiring fictionists they pose especially terrible problems.”38 Not all expressions of resistance must be dissonant or aggressive in nature. Given the previous exploration of trumpet sound and its common symbolic pairings, the act of programming repertoire with themes of sentimentality, empathy, and gentleness could be read as acts of subversion. Presenting this kind of sentimentality would be in alignment with both Wallace and greater tendencies within metamodernism, especially its oscillating quality between irony and sincerity.

Another author, Kathy Acker, best known for her literary techniques of narrative fragmentation and performative prose, can further inspire an approach to disrupting the traditional concert recital. As theorist Martina Sciolino observes, “Acker writes hybrid texts—part narrative, part essay. Her fiction enacts critical imitation of literary moments by putting them alongside what the academy has traditionally, if tacitly, bracketed off from the literary.”39 This idea that her work is part-narrative and part-essay can lend itself well to a performance that seeks to present—as an act of performance—a thesis, argument, or subverted symbol.

Trumpet performers influenced by Acker might emulate her fragmentation, collage techniques, or incorporate performance art elements to decenter the traditional symbolic associations of trumpet music. Acker’s literary work, which often engaged issues of sexuality, violence, identity, and politics, directly challenged traditional narrative conventions. Acker’s collage-based methods further demonstrate possibilities for combining textual, visual, and musical elements into cohesive or disjointed presentations. Performers might integrate excerpts from her novels, such as Blood and Guts in High School or Empire of the Senseless, into multimedia presentations. Incorporating images, texts, and sounds that emulate the intensity of Acker’s literary style can also aid in the subverting of audience expectations. By confronting audiences with explicit, fragmented narratives, trumpeters could provoke critical reflection on cultural, social, and gender norms represented by the trumpet’s traditional symbolic associations.

Regardless of whether they are labeled modernist, postmodernist, or metamodernist, artists like John Cage, Frank Zappa, David Foster Wallace, and Kathy Acker offer potential interdisciplinary models to the creative performer. These artists all provide musicians with critical strategies to interrogate and challenge classical music’s conventions and traditional symbolic associations with an instrument and its sound world. By synthesizing larger theoretical paradigms with the concrete, often subversive, techniques of individual artists, performers can construct works that are both conceptual and artistically specific. This integration not only could facilitate the resisting of inherited narratives but also enable performers to create new relationships between sound, symbolism, and audience perception.

Chapter IV

An Example of Subversion in Performance and Multimedia

There are many ways in which a trumpeter can utilize the theories and influences discussed in the prior section to expand, revitalize, or recontextualize trumpet sound. In order to demonstrate a few ways in which it is possible, I will be drawing from my three DMA recitals that sought to present the trumpet in ways that directly resisted its historical extramusical associations as explored throughout this document.

For the DMA degree at the University of North Carolina Greensboro, three recitals are required to complete the course of study, in addition to the dissertation. Given this organization and structure, I sought to create a series of performances and multimedia that demonstrate the intentions of subversion and recontextualization. In other words: every element of each recital—from the repertoire performed, the programming, the programs and program notes, performing attire, instrumentation, arrangements, and presentation method—was meticulously designed to subvert traditional expectations of both trumpet sound and recital procedure. This final section will demonstrate how each of the recitals aimed to accomplish this goal while applying strategies from postmodernist and metamodernist aesthetics, while also paying homage to key artistic figures associated with these movements.

The first of the three programs was titled “Trumpet and Song.” As a theme, the program featured primarily music that was written for trumpet and voice, or music written for voice that was transcribed for trumpet and piano. The program appears below in Figure 1:

Program for Trumpet and Song, first page Program for Trumpet and Song, second page

Figure 1. Program for “Trumpet and Song”

Within the program, one can observe a distinction in theme between the first and second halves. These contrasting themes of “Tradition” and “Reaction” serve two purposes: the first is to establish context within which the music is functioning, and the second is to relate those two contexts against each other. This is a technique of juxtaposition, which is very common in postmodern and metamodern expressive tactics. The inclusion of the works by Handel and Stevens in the half titled “Tradition” were programmed in homage to the academic tradition of trumpet recitals and repertoire, as they are generally thought of as canonical.

The second half titled “Reaction” subverted many elements, however. First, one can observe that all of the programmed repertoire was not originally written for trumpet at all. Rachmaninoff’s Oh, Cease Thy Singing, Maiden Fair is orchestrated for voice, piano, and violin. However, in our rendition, I adapted the trumpet part to play as much of the violin part as possible, given the constraints of a single line of music. This presents trumpet sound in an expressive context outside of its traditional associations, as the piece expresses themes of grief and love. Additionally, performing a transcription of a violin composition is especially challenging for the trumpeter, as much of the melodic material is not necessarily idiomatic for a brass instrument. The wide intervallic leaps, range, and soft dynamics present unique challenges when adapted to trumpet.

The next work—a series of poems and paired pieces of lieder by both Gustav Mahler and Clara Schumann—are perhaps the most disruptive in the program. The practice of performing lieder is highly dependent on the text, and as the trumpet is unable to convey text in the same way as a singer is able, I was faced with a couple of options: one was to simply read the original poems of the lieder before performing, while another was to call on the audience to read the poem as the piece is being performed. I opted for neither of those choices in favor of using a technique of collage, an expressive strategy employed in both postmodern and metamodern contexts, as well as the work of Zappa, Acker, and Wallace.

In this case, I wrote my own poetry that was postmodern in design, titled “My Friend, the Anarchist.” The poem cycle appears below:

Postmodern Collage

“My Friend, The Anarchist”

Poetry by Geoffrey McKay

I. Interstitial

One afternoon, as I Stood Darkly Dreaming My Friend, The Anarchist, joined me at a table beside a building made of concrete and stone

As he sat, a spark of fire and sizzle of combustion brought forth the smell of a cigarette We exchanged greetings and laments—his eyes showed a clarity and fervor

Questions flowed toward me, pointed and sharp Are we all interstitial? Do we remain in neutral? Can we not see?

Trains—so many songs sing of trains, he began—an interstitial zone on wheels Delivering cargo to those who swipe plastic cards and cherish numbers

He beckoned me for answers, but I had none—my mind was floating elsewhere An amber leaf scraped the concrete next to our feet—his combat boots were tearing

Interstitial, he repeated—meaning between two things, he reiterated Are we all not on a train? Is this train also on a conveyor belt? Hear me out, he said

Is it enough to not remain in neutral? Must we now push the pedal to the floor? Surely this will cause fire and unrest—are we really so comfortably numb?

He exhaled wispy vapors—his arms carried ink that told stories of music and trouble Are you hearing me?—he asked

I felt further away—I could feel the weight of his questions But I was drifting between my dark dreams and him

II. Phoenix Fire

We three sat around a crackling fire outside, under stars that seemed out of focus My Friend, The Anarchist, stoked the flames—questions and observations were soon to follow

What are they teaching us, anyway?—he lobbed toward our mutual friend and I We, as usual, were distant when he chose to beckon these things

We process digits and address bell curves on abstract graphs The graphs tell stories of supply, demand, and debt—he said as his hair draped in his eyes

But they tell more of a story than that—are these digits and decimals not human? Friends, surely you see this—the numbers breathe the air we pollute

Our mutual friend and I were glazed over—our sensations were numbed I looked to the broken sky—it was a jagged twilight

How do we come back from this? How do we humanize the medians and averages? Are we really to worship numbers? Do we only listen to pale faces with glasses and grey beards?

I slumped in my chair—the sky was leaking dark indigo hues with grey and black Our mutual friend was long gone, grasping her cup wrapped in brown paper

We are running out of options, friends—do we dismantle the system we perpetuate? Create human concrete with ashes, blood, and tears? Who throws the first Molotov?

I shook my head, he looked to me—Now I See Clearly Why You So Often Dream Darkly A phoenix fire would make the ash—I would weep the tears, should I have anything left

III. Obsidian Cage

My Friend, The Anarchist, thought of our world as an obsidian cage He would reach out and touch the bars, the glimmering blackness returning his gaze

A source of light would quietly glow from above, yet he would rarely look up Only to the walls and bars that reflected his image—it scared him

He would try to reason with it—his sharp silhouette—it stared back at him My friend, why must I think of you when The Moon Rises Silently?

Why must you beckon such grotesque things to me? Have you not seen the beauty of a corner booth? I do relent, my sharp silhouette—he began

I can see why you wish to break from this obsidian world, but can we not remain for just a little longer? Can we not at least assemble an ethos? Perhaps—

The silhouette grimaced at his plea—My Friend, The Anarchist, felt his heart sink The cage was shining beneath an indigo glow—he looked to his sharp silhouette

I know you must be contended with soon—this cage will only hold you for so long But there are questions that need answering—and I will ask them

In the ambient space where the cage remained suspended, he sat upon its floor Finally looking up, he saw the source of the indigo glow and spoke to it

When I awake tomorrow—My Friend, The Anarchist—began to say I will contend with this obsidian—but for now, I will rest

IV. Phoenix Fire: Reprise

The night was cold, and yet the Sun Prepares to Shine as Brightly as yesterday But the day will turn grey—the skyline floats with obsidian dust

I was told in a picture—our mutual friend sent to me an image of a glass holding a dark liquid The glass was facing a corner booth—the seat was empty—

It was then I understood—My Friend, The Anarchist—you shattered the obsidian cage with your own hand You claimed your wings, you took them—you flew

I now find myself floating, wandering—hovering just beside myself A wound now grows within me, a bruise on my soul—an ache unimaginable

Your sharp silhouette whispered to you sinister things from the dark side of the moon The silent lotus permeated your cigarette daydreams—it made you see only darkness

I am sitting—mourning—looking to a familiar indigo sky desperately trying to find you—I reach out to feel the warmth of your fiery wings

You know, I can see you in my periphery—holding us up—guarding the addicts, the scorned— a savior of the broken, the beaten—the damned

Your questions still float in my mind—they make me question what I see I now wear your pendant as punctuation to my humanity

While I do not have answers to the questions you beckoned I will carry your phoenix fire and keep asking them

While the day will be grey—the skyline as fractured as ever—as the obsidian dust settles I will remain—and know that every glow within this indigo—

is you—My Friend, The Anarchist.

These poems cover various subjects often associated with postmodernist artworks: rebellion, resistance, capitalism, grief, and so on. They also evoke a form of left-wing philosophy, namely anarchism or anarcho-syndicalism (similar to the views of Noam Chomsky), to serve as a theme paired alongside sentimental poetry and trumpet sound.40 The piece took the form of a recorded poetry reading, with the lieder played in between as responses to the poems telling the story of The Anarchist. Within the poems, the titles of the original texts of the lieder are referenced as another form of homage and respect to the source material. This oscillation between music and text is indicative of metamodern techniques, as is the rapid movement between poems centering resistance and sentimentality and lieder centering love, beauty, or loss. The ideas of resistance and sentimentality are both present, generating a metamodern oscillation, while arguably using postmodern pastiche techniques.

This collage effect presents trumpet sound that has been subverted in many ways. The association of trumpet sound with civics, nobility, or other forms of upper-class positioning were challenged and subverted to signal actions of resistance against the status quo. In doing so, this program offered an example of how juxtaposition, collage, and recontextualization can be used to reframe trumpet sound through a postmodern or metamodern lens.

The second recital in the series of three presented a different approach of delivery. It was presented as a film screening. All of the music was recorded live, with all but one of the pieces being recorded without cuts. No timbral edits were made to the audio, and all the music was recorded in the Tew Recital Hall at UNCG.

The “multimedia recital film” titled An Interview from Twilight Indigo is a project in which I applied theory from both postmodernism and metamodernism to subvert historical connotations of trumpet sound. The film premiered at the University of North Carolina Greensboro on April 17, 2023. A lecture outlining the intent of the work was given prior to the film’s screening. The program featured music from composers Frédéric Chopin, Marissa Youngs, Akira Yamaoka, Erik Satie, and some of my own compositions and arrangements. In addition to compositions, the program relied heavily on sequences of free improvisation, prose and poetry, theatrics, and film techniques. All of these techniques were inspired by the theory and artists unpacked in this document.

To provide a structural and narrative outline of the film, it functions as follows: a title screen appears accompanied by Chopin’s Prelude Op. 28 No. 4 in E minor with a trumpet descant. This sequence immediately establishes a reflective and somber tone while foreshadowing the melancholic narrative to follow. It is followed by two interview segments from Kathy Acker and Angela Davis on postmodernism and revolution (real archival footage), which presents a theoretical and philosophical influence for the film’s critical stance. An unnamed character then performs a piano arrangement of White Noiz, composed by Akira Yamaoka, and a free improvisation on trumpet responds to it. This is followed by a performance of Eclipse by Marissa Youngs. In Eclipse, two characters (I play them both) perform the work in a conversational manner, made possible through video and audio editing, creating a fractured dialogue used in postmodern techniques. The unnamed character is later revealed to be named [REDACTED], and they give a monologue as if they are being interviewed—describing the fictional setting of Downtown. Following this, several performances—including arrangements of Erik Satie’s Gymnopédie No. 1 (arr. Hickman), Frédéric Chopin’s Prelude Op. 28 No. 4 in E minor (arr. McKay), and a conversational improvisation with another trumpeter—interrupt the fictional element as they are presented outside of character, as myself. The second interview with [REDACTED] then serves as a narrative development, as they outline their creative intent behind a piece titled Wake Up! The following performance—presented as fictitious archival footage—reveals the overarching social and musical thesis of the film, as [REDACTED] performs alongside a percussionist. This performance is strategically combined with real interview footage from Frank Zappa discussing American consumerism. The film concludes with a performance of Yamaoka’s Laura’s Theme and a reprise of White Noiz (arr. McKay), ending the film in a loop by referencing the first material heard.

In applying the postmodern and metamodern theory, as well as the artistic influences explored in the prior section, I first chose to establish a context in which the trumpet would work to function as a subversive entity. The first elements of context to outline are narrative and setting, which is established through the title screen of the film and the character named [REDACTED]. Examples of both can be seen in Figures 2 and 3.

Still captured from An Interview from Twilight Indigo — title screen

Figure 2. Still captured from An Interview from Twilight Indigo (McKay, 2023)

Still captured from An Interview from Twilight Indigo — character [REDACTED]

Figure 3. Still captured from An Interview from Twilight Indigo (McKay, 2023)

[REDACTED], pictured in Figure 4, functions as a narrator and main character in the film, and through their interview monologues one establishes a setting: a fictitious city named Downtown. As shown through two disjointed interviews, [REDACTED] reveals the topic of discussion is their journey of moving to Downtown, as well as their performance of political art in protest against a politician referred to as Governor Klick. Governor Klick, while not elaborated on much in the film, is intended to be a satirical representation of a fascistic governor ruling over Downtown. This centers [REDACTED] as a resister, thus associating their various artistic expressions with this theme—most importantly, their use of the trumpet. As a direct subversion, this character uses trumpet sound to react against the status quo rather than uphold or honor “civics,” or herald a politician or aristocrat. This kind of subversive expression is very prominent in postmodern literature, especially in novels that incorporate feminist and intersectional theories as their base.

In the narrative of An Interview from Twilight Indigo, the piece that gained [REDACTED] infamy is titled Wake Up! It is portrayed and performed in the film as “archival footage.” Prior to the piece’s presentation, [REDACTED] presents the intended interpretation of the work as a monologue. This kind of oscillation between reality, fiction, and various layers of temporal space is purposefully fractured to communicate a feeling of disorientation—yet another tactic from postmodern approaches. Wake Up! is comprised of five sections of dramatic readings, four of which were written by me, and one written by Kathy Acker. Through the direct reading and referencing of Acker, one loops in an expressive connection to postmodern feminism. In Martina Sciolino’s article titled “Kathy Acker and the Postmodern Subject of Feminism,” Sciolino states that “…by using performative prose to launch political and aesthetic diatribes, Kathy Acker’s narrative methods are exemplary for postmodern feminism.”41 Acker and her novels had a major theoretical and aesthetic influence on the film, and Wake Up! is the most direct emulation in this way. In paying homage, [REDACTED] performs a reading of the following excerpt from one of her essays:

We are now, in the United States and in England, living in a world in which ownership is becoming more and more set. The rich stay rich, the poor stay dead. Death in life. The only social mobility left occurs in terms of appearance. Things no longer change hands. But fashion is not purely ornamental, it is political. All signs nowadays point to the haves, or to the homeless Chicanos on the LA downtown streets. There is no more right wing versus working class, there is only appearance and disappearance. Those people who appear in the media, and those people who have disappeared from the possibility of any sort of home. In such a society as ours, the only possible chance for change, for mobility, for political, economic, and moral flow, lies in the tactics of guerilla warfare, the use of fictions, of language. Postmodernism then, for the moment, is a useful perspective and tactic…42

In addition to her feminist aesthetics and activism, Acker incorporated elements of class and racial critique into her commentary (as seen above). After this passage was read, the trumpet and percussion responded to it with free improvisation, thus connecting the sounds of their instruments to prose of this style and social critique. Given the trumpet’s association with class and high status, this is a subversive tactic that retranslates it as an instrument to play out against oppression, rather than to confirm or announce higher social status. To deepen the irony of this expressive tactic, [REDACTED] performs fragmented chunks of melody from “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee,” which is musically resisted by the sound of improvised percussion. Figure 4 shows a still captured during the performance.

Still captured from An Interview from Twilight Indigo — Wake Up! performance

Figure 4. Still captured from An Interview from Twilight Indigo (McKay, 2023)

My recitals, of course, are not the first time a trumpet was used to further the ideas of resistance or advocacy. One famous example is Joan Tower’s Fanfare for the Uncommon Woman (1987). This work operates as a retranslation of Aaron Copland’s Fanfare for the Common Man, using an identical orchestration to Copland’s piece—yet the sounds are recontextualized through the title. This is an example of an earlier sonic retranslation, notably during the postmodern era, where trumpets lead a fanfare to amplify marginalized voices as a “feminist counterpoint” to the original.43 Drawing inspiration from authors like Kathy Acker and composers like Joan Tower (among many other possibilities), a trumpeter can continue this sonic recontextualization of, or challenge to, the instrument’s extramusical associations.

In addition to the examples above that highlight satirical representations or sonic retranslations of trumpet sound, the film also draws on music to pair trumpet sound with expressions of melancholy and sentimentality. [REDACTED]’s first interview sequence describes a lonely tale of their journey to Downtown, highlighting elements of the fictional city’s infrastructure and art scene. The monologue is intended to characterize [REDACTED] as both melancholic and hopeful. This is contrasted greatly with the second interview, where [REDACTED] has become politicized by their experiences. However, before this transformation, music from Chopin, Satie, and responsive free improvisation are performed directly after the monologue is finished. Chopin’s Prelude Op. 28, No. 4 in E minor has a long association with the expression of melancholy or grief—both in media and in history. Historically, the piece was among the works performed at Chopin’s own funeral. In a recent article on Chopin’s funeral, Benita Eisler describes the event as follows:

Shouldering the massive coffin, the six men moved up the nave to the sounds of the organ playing Chopin’s Preludes in E Minor and B Minor. Many of those now leaving had heard the composer play these pieces—his favorites—in their own houses, in the salons of friends, or in Pleyel’s concert rooms. The familiar notes on the somber instrument spoke of the voice they would never hear again, and they wept.44

A sentimental irony can be found in the pairing of a prelude and death—a simultaneous beginning and end. In characterizing [REDACTED], the prelude serves as a sonic reinforcement of this theme. It aims to characterize [REDACTED]’s journey to Downtown as a death of an old self, while also embracing a new beginning. This treatment of trumpet sound draws from both postmodern and metamodern constructions, as there is a sentimental retranslation of trumpet sound added to existing repertoire that carries its own thematic associations. Both the historical context of trumpet sound (descant) and Chopin’s Prelude Op. 28 No. 4 come together to represent a character’s thematic context in a way that draws from their respective histories, while also recontextualizing them at the same time. It is this oscillation that grants the trumpet’s sound a chance to break out of its traditional symbolic associations.

The final recital of three took a hybrid approach in modality. The program appears below in Figure 5.

Program for Recital 3, Subversion: An Episode from Twilight Indigo

Figure 5. Program for Recital 3, “Subversion: An Episode from Twilight Indigo”

In this recital, the program itself served as a form of commentary related to traditional recital practices. The program redacts certain elements of information and builds upon the irony of [REDACTED] being both a character’s name and a form of anonymity. This meta reference builds upon a narrative that [REDACTED] exists in the real world and not just within the film example unpacked earlier in this section. Those who had attended all of the recitals would have the information to understand the meta nature of this event. In both the first and third recitals in the set of three, the program served as an expressive element. There is satire present within the program as well, evoking larger musicological discussions surrounding historical performance practices and authenticity. What is also untraditional about this program was a location change for the second half, further fracturing the experience—but also providing a unique opportunity to use that change of environment for expressive effect. Bach and Alessandro Marcello served as another reference to tradition, even with the non-traditional instrumentation of the performances.

This recital sought to combine the expressive elements of recitals one and two by presenting a multimedia program that draws from both live and recorded sound, as well as from visual media. Artist Suguru Tanaka, with prior approval, allowed his surreal artwork to be used in the performance. His artwork, alongside prerecorded drones and other public domain sound effects, made up the multimedia portion of the program. A film titled An Episode from The Twilight Indigo was projected while freely improvised trumpet and flute responded to the material in a live setting. Halfway through the film, biographical footage of Kathy Acker—one of the main artistic influences of all the recitals unpacked in this section—appears to provide the audience with a direct homage. The program also lists her as my own teacher, a meta reference to the level of influence she had on the artistic vision for the performance.

By blending elements from both the first and second recitals, this program functioned as a culminating event that synthesized the elements of tradition and reaction established earlier. It juxtaposed canonical repertoire and subversive design, as seen in the first recital, with the narrative-driven, multimedia techniques characteristic of the second recital. The program’s approach continued to draw upon the theoretical and artistic influences explored in the prior section—especially the oscillation between homage and resistance central to postmodernism and metamodernism, as well as the work of Cage, Zappa, Wallace, and Acker.

Chapter V

Conclusion

This document proposed and demonstrated an interdisciplinary method that allows a trumpeter to contextualize their trumpet sound however they seek to. By exploring the theories of postmodernism and metamodernism and incorporating a variety of artistic influences and historical contexts, it proposes a method for experimentation with the conventions of the traditional classical music concert experience.

While the goals of the example programs explored in this essay were specific in their aim, the adaptability of these theoretical approaches ensures their relevance across a wide spectrum of expressive aims. This approach not only offers a strategy for rethinking trumpet performance but also has the potential to reshape how audiences engage with and interpret the trumpet’s sound in a variety of contemporary settings, including film scoring. My hope is that audiences will leave such performances having questioned their preconceived notions of what the trumpet “represents,” and with a deeper awareness of how instrumental sound is historically and socially coded. Such codes may be reinforced, or they may be expanded or disrupted by the contemporary performer.

This approach is not intended to be exclusive to trumpeters. Musicians working with other instruments or voice could also adopt this interdisciplinary framework to interrogate and reimagine the symbolic associations attached to their own instruments, voice types, or genres. The combination of historical context, theory, literature, and musical influences can all build into performances that address this.

The considerations I explore in this document could potentially influence not only performers, but also composers and orchestrators—particularly in cinematic and media contexts. Film composers, for example, might seek to draw from these ideas to disrupt and expand the trumpet’s symbolic role on screen. In doing so, they could create new sonic identities that depart from established tropes of heroism, power, or the military. This document seeks to invite performers and creators to actively shape new symbolic relationships between sound, context, and audience, rather than rely on tired stereotypes.

The history of the trumpet is far too rich and expansive to have been fully captured within the scope of this document. Its roles in ancient battlefields, royal courts, and religious ceremonies exemplify the many contexts—social, sonic, or otherwise—in which the trumpet has sounded. These associations, deeply rooted in historical narratives, influence both how the instrument is perceived and how it is performed. Interrogating these contexts not only acknowledges the instrument’s past but also opens the door for its reimagination in contemporary practice—a very metamodern aspiration.

Trumpeters have long recognized the expressive range of their instrument, which is capable of conveying everything from the gentleness of a lyrical melody to the commanding terror of a military call, the nuances of hope and despair, and every affect in between. Expanding these sonic associations through engagement with critical theory allows performers to explore new dimensions of expression. By integrating interdisciplinary methods, such as multimedia design, historical critique, and philosophical experimentation, trumpeters can create works and programs that challenge conventions, while creating new relationships between sound, film, literature, and other art forms.

Notes

  1. 1Christopher Small, Musicking: The Meanings of Performing and Listening (Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 1998), 8.
  2. 2John Wallace and Alexander McGrattan, The Trumpet (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2012), 1.
  3. 3Edward H. Tarr, The Trumpet (Portland, OR: Amadeus Press, 1988), 19–29.
  4. 4Wallace and McGrattan, The Trumpet, 1.
  5. 5Tarr, The Trumpet, 25.
  6. 6Wallace and McGrattan, The Trumpet, 65.
  7. 7Wallace and McGrattan, The Trumpet, 69.
  8. 8Wallace and McGrattan, The Trumpet, 69.
  9. 9Tarr, The Trumpet, 41.
  10. 10Tarr, The Trumpet, 43.
  11. 11Tarr, The Trumpet, 41.
  12. 12Wallace and McGrattan, The Trumpet, 94.
  13. 13Wallace and McGrattan, The Trumpet, 38.
  14. 14Wallace and McGrattan, The Trumpet, 200.
  15. 15William Owen, “The Use of the Trumpet in Three Symphonic Poems by Richard Strauss: Don Juan, Till Eulenspiegel’s Lustige Streiche, and Ein Heldenleben” (UNT Thesis, 1960), 44. https://digital.library.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metadc699624/
  16. 16Tarr, The Trumpet, 168.
  17. 17Tarr, The Trumpet, 168.
  18. 18Tarr, The Trumpet, 168.
  19. 19Todd Adkins and Jeremy J. Castle, “‘Moving’ Pictures? Experimental Evidence of Cinematic Influence on Political Attitudes,” Social Science Quarterly 95, no. 5 (2014): 1230–44. https://www.jstor.org/stable/44072746
  20. 20Irena Paulus, “Williams versus Wagner or an Attempt at Linking Musical Epics,” International Review of the Aesthetics and Sociology of Music 31, no. 2 (2000): 178. https://doi.org/10.2307/3108403
  21. 21Paulus, “Williams versus Wagner,” 178.
  22. 22Leon Botstein, “Modernism,” Grove Music Online, Oxford University Press, accessed March 26, 2025. https://www.oxfordmusiconline.com
  23. 23Rachel K. Fischer and Andrew Graham, “Postmodernism,” Reference & User Services Quarterly 54, no. 1 (2014): 29. https://www.jstor.org/stable/refuseserq.54.1.29
  24. 24Jann Pasler, “Postmodernism,” Grove Music Online, Oxford University Press, 2001. https://www.oxfordmusiconline.com
  25. 25Jean-François Lyotard, The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge, trans. Geoff Bennington and Brian Massumi (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1984), 52.
  26. 26Fredric Jameson, Postmodernism, or, the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1991), xii.
  27. 27Brendan Graham Dempsey, Metamodernism, or, the Cultural Logic of Cultural Logics, 2nd ed. (ARC Press, 2023), iii.
  28. 28Robin van den Akker, Alison Gibbons, and Timotheus Vermeulen, Metamodernism: Historicity, Affect, and Depth after Postmodernism (London: Rowman & Littlefield International, 2017), 10.
  29. 29Dempsey, Metamodernism, 47.
  30. 30Björn Heile and Charles Wilson, eds., The Routledge Research Companion to Modernism in Music (New York: Routledge, 2018), 21.
  31. 31John Cage, Silence: Lectures and Writings, 50th Anniversary Edition (Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 2011), 8.
  32. 32Cage, Silence, 14.
  33. 33Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention, We’re Only in It for the Money, recorded October 1967, Verve V6-5045X, 1968, vinyl.
  34. 34For example, see: Frank Zappa, Sheik Yerbouti, Zappa Records ZR 3859-1, 1979, vinyl; and Frank Zappa and The Mothers, Just Another Band from L.A., Bizarre/Reprise MS 2075, 1972, vinyl.
  35. 35Chris Casady, “Frank Zappa on Crossfire 1986,” YouTube video, 2006. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B9856_xv8gc
  36. 36Manufacturing Intellect, “David Foster Wallace Interview on Charlie Rose (1997),” YouTube video, November 28, 2018. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GopJ1x7vK2Q&t=1286s
  37. 37Robin van den Akker, Alison Gibbons, and Timotheus Vermeulen, Metamodernism: Historicity, Affect, and Depth after Postmodernism (London: Rowman & Littlefield International, 2017), 103–117.
  38. 38David Foster Wallace, “E Unibus Pluram: Television and U.S. Fiction,” The Review of Contemporary Fiction 13, no. 2 (1993): 182.
  39. 39Martina Sciolino, “Kathy Acker and the Postmodern Subject of Feminism,” College English 52, no. 4 (1990): 437. https://doi.org/10.2307/377661
  40. 40Noam Chomsky, Rudolf Rocker, and Nicolas Walter, “Preface,” in Anarcho-Syndicalism, 2nd ed. (London: Pluto Press, 1989), vi–vii. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctt18mbcz1
  41. 41Sciolino, “Kathy Acker and the Postmodern Subject of Feminism,” 437.
  42. 42Kathy Acker, Bodies of Work (London: Serpent’s Tail, 1996).
  43. 43Erica K. Grolman, “‘Fanfares for the Uncommon Woman’—Colorado Symphony Orchestra, Marin Alsop, Conductor; Joan Tower, Composer (1999),” Library of Congress, 2014. https://www.loc.gov/static/programs/national-recording-preservation-board/documents/FanfaresForTheUncommonWoman.pdf
  44. 44Benita Eisler, “Chopin’s Funeral,” The New York Times, April 20, 2003. https://www.nytimes.com/2003/04/20/books/chapters/chopins-funeral.html

References