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Gravitational waves from coalescing neutron stars encode information about nuclear matter at extreme densities, inaccessible by laboratory experiments. The late inspiral is influenced by the presence of tides, which depend on the neutron star equation of state. Neutron star mergers are expected to often produce rapidly rotating remnant neutron stars that emit gravitational waves. These will provide clues to the extremely hot post-merger environment. This signature of nuclear matter in gravitational waves contains most information in the 2–4 kHz frequency band, which is outside of the most sensitive band of current detectors. We present the design concept and science case for a Neutron Star Extreme Matter Observatory (NEMO): a gravitational-wave interferometer optimised to study nuclear physics with merging neutron stars. The concept uses high-circulating laser power, quantum squeezing, and a detector topology specifically designed to achieve the high-frequency sensitivity necessary to probe nuclear matter using gravitational waves. Above 1 kHz, the proposed strain sensitivity is comparable to full third-generation detectors at a fraction of the cost. Such sensitivity changes expected event rates for detection of post-merger remnants from approximately one per few decades with two A+ detectors to a few per year and potentially allow for the first gravitational-wave observations of supernovae, isolated neutron stars, and other exotica.
Background: Measles is a highly contagious virus that reemerged in 2019 with the highest number of reported cases in the United States since 1992. Beginning in March 2019, The Johns Hopkins Hospital (JHH) responded to an influx of patients with concern for measles as a result of outbreaks in Maryland and the surrounding states. We report the JHH Department of Infection Control and Hospital Epidemiology (HEIC) response to this measles outbreak using a multidisciplinary measles incident command system (ICS). Methods: The JHH HEIC and the Johns Hopkins Office of Emergency Management established the HEIC Clinical Incident Command Center and coordinated a multipronged response to the measles outbreak with partners from occupational health services, microbiology, the adult and pediatric emergency departments, marketing and communication and local and state public health departments. The multidisciplinary structure rapidly developed, approved, and disseminated tools to improve the ability of frontline providers to quickly identify, isolate, and determine testing needs for patients suspected to have measles infection and reduce the risk of secondary transmission. The tools included a triage algorithm, visitor signage, staff and patient vaccination guidance and clinics, and standard operating procedures for measles evaluation and testing. The triage algorithms were developed for phone or in-person and assessed measles exposure history, immune status, and symptoms, and provided guidance regarding isolation and the need for testing. The algorithms were distributed to frontline providers in clinics and emergency rooms across the Johns Hopkins Health System. The incident command team also distributed resources to community providers to reduce patient influx to JHH and staged an outdoor measles evaluation and testing site in the event of a case influx that would exceed emergency department resources. Results: From March 2019 through June 2019, 37 patients presented with symptoms or concern for measles. Using the ICS tools and algorithms, JHH rapidly identified, isolated, and tested 11 patients with high suspicion for measles, 4 of whom were confirmed positive. Of the other 26 patients not tested, none developed measles infection. Exposures were minimized, and there were no secondary measles transmissions among patients. Conclusions: Using the ICS and development of tools and resources to prevent measles transmission, including a patient triage algorithm, the JHH team successfully identified, isolated, and evaluated patients with high suspicion for measles while minimizing exposures and secondary transmission. These strategies may be useful to other institutions and locales in the event of an emerging or reemerging infectious disease outbreak.
Disclosures: Aaron Milstone reports consulting for Becton Dickinson.
Dementia caregiving is associated with a variety of negative outcomes including poor caregiver mental and physical health and low relationship satisfaction. Prior research has linked these negative caregiver outcomes to patients’ cognitive and psychiatric symptoms. However, few studies have examined the link between patients’ socioemotional functioning and caregiver outcomes. We examined how patients’ socioemotional functioning was related to caregiver marital satisfaction, physical health, and psychopathology in a sample of 103 caregivers of dementia patients (with a wide range of diagnoses). Measures included: (a) patient socioemotional functioning (Caregiver Assessment of Socioemotional Functioning), (b) patient cognitive functioning (Mini-Mental State Exam), (c) patient psychiatric symptomatology (Neuropsychiatric Inventory), (d) caregiver marital satisfaction (Locke-Wallace Marital Adjustment Test), (e) caregiver physical health (Medical Outcomes Study Health Survey), and (f) caregiver psychopathology (Symptom Checklist-90 -Revised). Results indicated that poor patient socioemotional functioning predicted lower levels of caregiver marital satisfaction (beta= −.45, p < .001) and physical health (beta= −.25, p < .05), and greater caregiver psychopathology (beta= .41, p < .001), above and beyond patient cognitive functioning and psychiatric symptoms. These findings suggest that low levels of socioemotional functioning in patients make important and unique contributions to negative caregiver outcomes.
While the technical content of music theory in the nineteenth century may be seen in many respects as evolving fairly smoothly from earlier ideas, the intellectual methodology underlying it changed quite radically, as we have seen in the cases of Weber and Fetis. This was largely a consequence of educational reforms that occurred in the aftermath of the French Revolution, and continued into the next century. The founding of the new conservatories in the first half of the nineteenth century meant that music instruction was now available to a much larger public in urban centers, a public large enough that they had to be taught in classes. “Music theorists” suddenly had the possibility of becoming classroom teachers. Established in 1795, the Paris Conservatoire became a model for many others throughout Europe and beyond. Fetis, a Belgian, spent virtually his whole career in the conservatory environment, first in Paris, where he studied and taught from 1821 to 1833, and then in Brussels, where he became the first director of the Conservatoire royal de Bruxelles in 1832. While two other important theorists of the first half of the century, Simon Sechter (1788–1867) and Moritz Hauptmann (1792–1868), began their careers teaching privately in the eighteenth-century tradition, they were later appointed professors at the conservatories in Vienna (founded 1817) and Leipzig (founded 1843). We recall Sechter’s debt to eighteenth-century theory, made clearer now after the discussion of Rameau reception in chapter 3. We take up the work of Hauptmann a bit later in this chapter.
The new research-oriented universities, which were rapidly beginning to resemble their modern counterparts, also opened up to music theory. The most important figures in German-language music theory of the latter half of the nineteenth century, Hermann von Helmholtz (1821–94) and Arthur von Oettingen (1836–1920), were based in universities, as was, ultimately, Hugo Riemann (1849–1919), the towering figure at the turn of the twentieth century. As universities expanded and changed their missions, so music theory, always a hybrid discipline, began to borrow from intellectual sources previously unavailable. While Helmholtz and Oettingen began to focus on the theory rather than the practice of music, Riemann attempted to make their work—and that of Moritz Hauptmann—“practical.”
Heinrich Schenker (1868–1935) is generally regarded as the leading music theorist of the twentieth century. He was born of German-speaking, Jewish parentage in Wisniowczyk, Galicia, a small town in a Polish-, Ukrainian-, and German-speaking province that was part of Poland for four hundred years before its annexation by the Habsburgs in 1772. During the first half of the nineteenth century, that annexation produced the Germanized culture in which Schenker grew up; but the uprisings of 1848 unleashed a nationalistic fervor that led to a resurgence of Polish language and culture, to the extent that Schenker declared Polish his native language in the first seven out of his ten semester registrations at the University of Vienna. Surely one reason for his declaration is that between the ages of eight and sixteen, Schenker, two years younger than his cohort, was educated at three different Gymnasien in which the Polish language and its culture were dominant. After graduating from the Brzezany (English, “Berezhany”) Gymnasium in the spring of 1884, he moved in the fall to Vienna, the cultural center and capital of what was by that time the Austro-Hungarian Empire, to study law at the university (1884–88) and music at the conservatory (1887–90). Although Schenker took his Dr. juris at the university in 1890 and stayed in Vienna for the rest of his life, he never practiced law; instead, he devoted himself entirely to music, working in the 1890s as a composer, music critic, and piano accompanist, and, starting a decade or so later, as a music editor and teacher of piano and theory. It is for his extraordinarily productive career as editor and music theorist that Schenker is remembered today.
Though this project has grown considerably, it began as a book about a book—or, more accurately, a book about two interrelated books. Our first— Harmonielehre (“Theory of Harmony” and hereafter HL, when referring to the published German text)—is Schenker's first major work about music theory and his link with the most important music-theoretical genre of the past, the history of which we begin to explore in part I and will develop in greater depth in chapter 3 in part II.
The problems with Schenker's essay “Der Weg zum Gleichniss” begin with the title. Just what is Gleichnis? The authoritative nineteenth-century German dictionary begun by the brothers Grimm (important linguists as well as compilers of fairy tales) provides a list of meanings that include the pictorial notion of image (Bild), symbol (the word is often used today to indicate “metaphor”), similarity (it can also mean “analogy”), example, and means of comparison. Schenker essentially invokes all of these, and thus choosing among them seems futile. For him, Gleichnis is both a process and a product. The meaning may be broad, but the purpose of the idea in Schenker's longer-range research plan is clear: firstly, it connects music to the arts as a whole via the mimetic theory: the arts “imitate”; music imitates (itself, as it turns out); therefore music is one of them; second, and more narrowly, Gleichnis includes “repetition” and all of its ramifications, a concept Schenker had already begun to explore in GEIST, and one which would become essential to the opening of HL. It is impossible to encapsulate all of this in one word. For practical reasons, we have elected to follow Bent, Marston and others and retain the neutral cognate, “likeness.”
The handwritten text of Schenker's essay itself presents the greatest difficulty. The only known copy, it has an extensive editorial overlay, and suffers from numerous passages that will continue to be controversial, or simply deemed illegible by even the most knowledgeable of readers. There exists one published transcription. While a pioneering and useful effort, it does have significant problems, and, as with any transcription—though especially in this case—it should be used in conjunction with a parallel reading of the original manuscript. Indeed, there may never be a “definitive” transcription, given the severity of the editorial problems.
Nonetheless, the transcription by Nicholas Marston comes close. Thus we are very much in his debt for allowing us to use this unpublished transcription in the preparation of the present translation. Certainly the expert on this manuscript, Marston has studied it over a long period of time, as is obvious from his transcription, and is the author of the recent prize-winning article on it.
One of the main goals of this project has been to demonstrate that Schenker’s Theory of Harmony (1906) is unlike other music theory treatises of the period or, for that matter, of any other period, past or present. The book and its satellite texts stand out on several counts. For one thing, they show that Schenker was less concerned with the nuts and bolts of chord structure and chord progression and more with showing how studying harmony enhances our appreciation of music as art. Gone are the model harmonizations and student exercises found in rival books about harmony; instead, Schenker set to illustrate “every verbally abstracted experience or proposition” with “a living example from the great masters themselves.” For another, the book and its satellite texts underscore the contempt that Schenker felt towards the works of other theorists and pedagogues, especially Jean-Philippe Rameau, Hugo Riemann, Ernst Friedrich Richter, Salomon Jadassohn, and Max Reger, and, to a more moderate degree, even his own teacher, Anton Bruckner. Schenker was clearly on a mission to correct what he regarded as fundamental errors in the way harmony was normally studied. His purpose in writing HL was to push the study of harmony in another direction and, as such, he wrote the book as much for professional music theorists as for beginners, despite his claim to the contrary.
Perhaps the most obvious way in which Schenker redirected the study of harmony was by reviving and reinterpreting the Classical meaning of the term, the one conveyed so evocatively by De Morgan in her canvas Cadmus and Harmonia. According to this definition, the word “harmony” refers not to individual chords or chord progressions, but rather, denotes the conceptual glue that binds together the disparate elements of a musical composition as a coherent whole. In this sense, the term is more closely related to the notions of organic unity and synthesis, ideas that Schenker no doubt absorbed from his classes in Greek and Latin at the Gymnasium. An obvious source for such ideas was surely Aristotle's Poetics, the most important treatise on aesthetics ever written and a work that Schenker doubtless encountered in his studies of Greek drama.
Introduction: Schenker's Reaction to the Classical Theory of Harmony
The original notion of “harmony”—the Classical idea—and the word denoting it, descend from “Harmonia” (Roman counterpart, “Concordia”), who, according to ancient Greek legend, was the illegitimate child of Aphrodite, the beautiful goddess of love and pleasure, and the handsome Ares, god of war and warriors. She was the progeny of this stormy “union of opposites,” and in that sense epitomizes this ancient idea: the element or elements that hold a complex system—such as a piece of tonal music, to place the notion in a modern context—together and make it work. She appears here in a wonderfully idealized rendering by the British painter, Evelyn De Morgan (1855–1919), the painting entitled Cadmus and Harmonia. According to one version of the legend, Cadmus, Harmonia's husband, was turned into a snake by Ares, though of course this pairing of the beautiful maiden with the snake surely suggested Eve in the Garden of Eden as well in nineteenth-century Britain. When De Morgan, some thirteen years Schenker's senior, painted this work (one of her earliest, done in 1877), she was associated with the later phase of the Pre-Raphaelite movement. In its synthesis of antiquity and modernity it was not unlike the later Viennese Jugendstil movement in the fine arts, crafts, and architecture that surrounded Schenker during the period he was contemplating his research in melody and writing his Harmonielehre. Nor is Schenker's book, in its approach to harmony, unlike this synthesis.
The word harmonia (΄αρμονια) was also present in the everyday language of ancient Greece. In common parlance, it came to mean a joining of things, such as the planks of a ship, or even the joint itself. By extension, the word could refer to a framework, thereby giving rise to its philosophical meaning of a framework for the universe itself. In a similar vein, harmonia was also used to refer to a social or political consensus (cf. Latin, concordia), a meaning well known to Schenker, the lawyer.
The Theory of Systems: its Genesis in [DTS] and Revision in HL
Schenker starts the discussion of systems in HL with what amounts to the conclusion of the investigation of the harmonic series he had presented in [DTS], namely that it is only a “hint” (Wink) that has been vastly overrated. This seems to indicate that the discussion in [DTS] is preparatory for HL, for in [DTS] Schenker carefully considers the harmonic series as a source of tonal material, as well as the influence of human perceptual limitations on just how much of it can be used (§§3–6). In HL, on the other hand, he seems to describe the harmonic series quite neutrally and even perfunctorily (§9), ending the section by deriving the just minor triad (10:12:15), from the proportion 3:4, and even the chordal seventh from the seventh overtone. But in HL, §§10–11, Schenker criticizes and rejects all of these “derivations” other than the one he started with, the major triad. Clearly, in reworking this material, Schenker strove for the greatest rhetorical impact, constructing the argument as a critique of accepted harmonic dogma rather than a neutral investigation of the phenomena.
Crucial to the critique presented in HL, §10 is Schenker's notion that the generative process is essentially “successive” (Nacheinander), not “simultaneous” (Nebeneinander); these terms and attendant explanation appear in [DTS], §6. Schenker anthropomorphizes the process by briefly mentioning family trees in [DTS], §6, but to drive the point home in HL, he presents the Bach “family tree,” demonstrating both “successive” (generations) and “simultaneous” progeny (siblings). He then proceeds to reject all harmonic relations that do not issue directly from the fundamental, such as , the minor third, the minor triad, etc., all of which are only relations between “siblings.” In HL, §11, however, he continues by rejecting all of the “out-of-tune” overtones, contending that the fifth overtone is the limit on the usefulness of the harmonic series (cf. [DTS], §5). Whereas HL, §§12 and 14 emphasize the supremacy of the fifth (cf. [DTS], §§9–10), HL, §13 (on the status of the major triad in nature and in the system) has no parallel in [DTS].
Schenker's harmony teacher during the time he studied at the conservatory in the late 1880s was the Austrian composer and organist, Anton Bruckner (1824–96). Simon Sechter (1788–1867), the leading theorist in Vienna in the first half of the nineteenth century, had been Bruckner’s teacher between 1856 and 1861, the lessons consisting entirely of exercises in harmony, not composition. Indeed, Sechter forbade Bruckner to compose during the time he studied with him. Apparently, no archival material remains from Schenker's study with Bruckner, but Bruckner's teaching at the university has been well documented. It was essentially Sechter's system of harmony that Bruckner taught (in a lightly edited version), recently published when Bruckner studied with him. Schenker's study with Bruckner, however, was more than thirty years later, and Bruckner was famous for recycling the same lecture notes year after year. It is almost certain that he would have concentrated his teaching at the conservatory, where Schenker studied with him, on the same material he taught at the university. By the time Schenker studied Sechter's system, it was thirty-five years since its publication date. Heavily indebted to eighteenth-century sources as it was—and Rameau in particular—it had become that much more out of date by the late 1880s.
Sechter was an organist and composer of great industry, if not originality, steeped in the sacred music tradition of “strict composition” set forth most famously by his Viennese predecessor of the early eighteenth century, Johann Josef Fux (ca. 1660–1741). Sechter, from Bohemia (the westernmost region of the present-day Czech Republic), was highly regarded in Vienna as a composer and teacher of counterpoint by the 1820s, to the extent that Schubert had a lesson with him on the fugal answer. One of his first published works was a “figured-bass” book, apparently in the eighteenth-century tradition. In reality, however, it also looked forward to his main work, the Grundsätze. Sechter finally ascended to a position at the conservatory in 1851; very likely the Grundsätze emerged from his teaching there.
Sechter finally ascended to a position at the conservatory in 1851; very likely the Grundsätze emerged from his teaching there. When Schenker wrote his Theory of Harmony, he engaged the most important music-theoretical topic of the time. As one contemporary source made clear, it referred to:
the study of the meaning of harmonies (chords)—that is, the explanation of the mental processes of musical hearing. By classifying the various types of simultaneities, delineating their relationships to one another, and attempting as well to develop the natural laws of musical design—in particular those of harmonic structure—the theory of harmony cultivates the mental imaging of music in a systematic manner, and develops the capability of the mind to understand musical works more quickly as well as to think productively in tones.
The ambitious leap from the “meaning of harmonies (chords)” to “musical hearing” in this passage is striking. That leap and the further claim that “the theory of harmony cultivates the mental imaging of music” demonstrate that as early as the 1880s, the “scientific” aspirations of harmony that were often couched in language of the physical sciences in mid-century now could be found in language drawn from human psychology, the recently rising field vying for scientific status. At the beginning of his career, Schenker likewise believed that harmony was fundamentally a matter of psychology. But the notion that an artistic hearing of music could come down to a psychological processing of successions of surface “chords” was one he rejected entirely, right from the outset of his career.
The above definition also underscores the central position that harmony held in music theory throughout the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, when something like a “common practice” reigned—the “science of music,” many would have called it. Thus Schenker's entree into the field was a high-stakes gambit. But as the repertoire has aged and pressing music-theoretical problems of twentieth-century modernism have emerged, the theoretical treatise on (now “traditional”) harmony has appeared more rarely, so much so that today's English definition is purely practical: “the combining of notes simultaneously, to produce chords, and successively, to produce chord progressions.”