Writing and music are decidedly different modes of expression. And while they have branched off into their own respective realms, they share the same roots, and there are still intersections that can be noticed. For the sake of my argument, I will be breaking this intersectionality down into three parts: rhythm, tonality, and repetition. All three of these are crucial elements to music and language. 

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Rhythm affects much of how writing and speech is perceived. It is difficult to define rhythm, as it exists in many forms. For example, a drum beat creates a rhythm, but so do the other instruments that play with it; of course, no two rhythms are the same. A famous example of this in writing is William Shakespeare’s iambic pentameter. In this method of writing, each line has five syllables that are emphasized. This creates a very grounded, comfortable reading experience. The reason why run-on sentences are typically shied away from is due to the fact that there is a lack of changing rhythm. A sentence that doesn’t ground itself for a while can be a lot for the reader to process, and giving it rhythm, like periods or other punctuation choices, can help this. 

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Tonality is likely considered the most obviously “musical” of the criteria listed, and for good reason. The most basic principles of music with rhythm are melody and harmony, and these are both branches of tonality. Melodies are at the forefront of musical expression; melodies get sung and stuck in our heads. Harmony is what underlies the melody. Chordal instruments like piano, guitar are usually responsible for this, and bass instruments will justify what the chordal instruments play. In most popular music today, the melody is sung, and the harmony is provided by every other non-rhythmic instrument involved, putting the notes that are sung into context. While not being a common first association with western language, tone influences many of the ways that languages have existed for years. The most ubiquitous example of this is in Mandarin Chinese. The phrase: “alamhaka boili” is always spelled the same, and yet depending on the tones used while speaking it, it can either mean: “He watched the river-bank” or “He boiled his mother-in-law.” It is not just the tonal languages like Mandarin Chinese that use tonality to convey meaning. In most variations of English across the globe, different tones can indicate different intentions. Take the sentence: “You’re going to the party.” Now compare it to the sentence: “You’re going to the party?” They use the same exact words, and yet they function as two different sentences when spoken aloud. This is because a question mark typically indicates a higher pitched end to a sentence.

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The third intersection between language and music is repetition. Repetition can be used in music to emphasize a note, build on a motif, or create tension. The connection between music and language goes back to the roots of written language. As represented in the Schmandt-Besserat and Erard article, “The Origins of Writing,” repetition played a key role in early written language systems. The main example of this is Roman numerals, where the repetition of symbols like “I” or “V” (e.g., III for 3 or VIII for 8) reflect a simple, additive system. In early language traditions, namely in ancient Mesopotamia, rocks and sticks were shaped and used as tokens of meaning. For numerals, people would arrange these tokens in repeating patterns to indicate amounts (Schmandt-Besserat, Erard).

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Just as rhythm, tone, and repetition all showcase the intersection of music and language, there are also many examples of this intersection in contemporary life. Often throughout history, music has relied on spoken word. An old Irish tradition, the caoineadh, or the keening, is a tradition where a person will eulogize a deceased loved one. People will gather and one person will speak/sing a piece written about them. While there are very few pieces of recorded evidence of this, people still know some famous examples of caoineadh. Had these been written eulogies, it would have been far easier to keep track of them, but because this was, for the most part, an oral tradition, few such cases still exist in writing. So how were these eulogies able to be kept track of for so long? The answer lies in the musical aspect of them. In his essay, “Constructive Interrelationship Between Structural Components in Early Music and Language Learning,” Bijan Zelli writes about the similarities between language and early music, and how they both work to communicate meaning, and how they are more similar than we may believe. 

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Specifically, Zelli discusses musical and lingual phrasing. Phrasing in music involves putting together strings of notes to create a digestible and interesting melody, similar to how in language, phrasing involves stringing together words to create understandable sentences. In one study, he looked at breathing techniques in speaking English. For most, this is never considered: how often are the breaths between words spoken paid attention to? For native speakers, almost never. However, for people immigrating to English speaking countries from non-English speaking ones, it can be difficult to learn the customs of the spatialization in the English language. To help with this, Zelli observed the effects of giving music lessons to these learners:

Students learned how to follow a breathing pattern while singing a song. Different articulation patterns like legato, staccato, and portato were introduced to English learners to improve their sensibilities regarding breathing. The same focus was applied to reading standard texts to gauge the potential negative impact of breaking down a sentence with incorrect breathing on fluency of the language. (Zelli).

The results of this test were resoundingly in favor of teaching music to combat this breathing-related insecurity. This finding supports the idea that rhythm, tone, and repetition are fundamental aspects in both music and language acquisition. 

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Another place that this intersection exists is in jazz music and jazz pedagogy. In jazz, improvisation is the main area of study. I am a jazz studies major, and I have experienced an abundance of overlap between language and improvisation. Units of improvisational music, at least in jazz, are typically called “phrases.” Everyone in a jazz studies program is sure to have heard a professor say: “Just play like you’re talking.” At first, this makes no sense, and yet, it clicks with everyone at a certain point. Improvisation is based on a combination of musical lines and, like spoken language, if it is non-stop or too spatial, it is not very musical. This is why you might also hear a jazz musician or enjoyer refer to playing as speaking. For some, this phrasing can be very difficult. However, wind instrument players have a much easier time learning phrasing than non-wind instrumentalists. This is due to the fact that, as mentioned above, breathing is a crucial part in language fluency, and wind instrumentalists have to breathe. 

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There are now many studies being conducted that prove the idea that music can be an agent in language for the developing brain. These studies are outlined in an essay by Anthony Brandt, Molly Gebrian, and L Robert Slevc, “Music and Early Language Acquisition.” In it, the developments in this area are discussed, and the overall stance of the authors is that “spoken language is introduced to the child as a vocal performance, and children attend to its musical features first. Without the ability to hear musically, it would be impossible to learn to speak.” (Brandt et al. 2012). When language is spoken, people aren’t hearing letters and words. They are hearing a combination of sounds. For as long as language has been taught, the inclination for teachers is to go straight to reading and writing. And while this is crucial to the development of young minds, Brandt et al. posit an interesting thought: what would the result of teaching musical the musical elements of language to children be, and how would it affect their musical sensibilities? 

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The same repetition that connects language and music also creates genre. In his book Genre and the Invention of the Writer, Anis Bawarshi discusses what creates genre, and who decides what genre is. One of Bawarshi’s positions on genre is that it is not simply born out of nothing; it is molded through slow developments into new areas. A genre could not be created without this repetition. This evolution is marked by the repetition of practices, themes, and structures that gradually solidify and form a recognizable genre. Just as repetition is crucial in language and music formation, it also plays an important role in the creation of genre. In both realms, repetition shapes perception and understanding by building recognizable patterns that can evolve into more complex forms. 

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It is clear to see that between rhythm, repetition, and tone, language and music are intrinsically interconnected, and they both shape and influence human communication and expression. These elements form the foundation for conveying meaning, emotion, and cultural identity in both modalities. 

 

 

 

 

Works Cited:

 

Bawarshi, Anis. “The Genre Function.” College English, vol. 62, no. 3, 2000, pp. 335–60. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/378935. Accessed 14 Nov. 2024.

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Brandt, Anthony et al. “Music and early language acquisition.” Frontiers in psychology vol. 3 327. 11 Sep. 2012, doi:10.3389/fpsyg.2012.00327 

 

Creel, Sarah C., et al. “Language-to-Music Transfer Effects Depend on the Tone Language: Akan vs. East Asian Tone Languages.” Memory & Cognition, vol. 51, no. 7, 2023, pp. 1624–39, https://doi.org/10.3758/s13421-023-01416-4.

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Schmandt-Besserat, Denise and Michael Erard. “Origins and Forms of Writing.” Handbook of Research on Writing: History, Society, School, Individual, Text, edited by Charles Bazerman, Routledge, 2007, pp. 7-22.