> I would personally add one more leading question: Can we explain music in other ways than by its harmony and chords? Yes. We can get a lot of mileage by talk

> I would personally add one more leading question: Can we explain music in other ways than by its harmony and chords? Yes. We can get a lot of mileage by talking about the form and texture. E.g., at the end of Haydn's so-called "Lark" quartet (Op. 64 No. 5) he's got a fast-paced Rondo in D major that features a virtuosic 1st violin part with continuous fast figuration. The other voices do a light accompaniment of that fast-moving line. It moves along about as you'd expect-- you get the main rondo theme. It gets repeated. Then a contrasting theme appears in the dominant, with a little bridge back to the original theme in D. Now that section gets repeated. You can just hear a theory teacher outlining the form and writing the boring letters of a typical rondo form on a whiteboard while the class yawns. It's nearly the same as any other boring rondo, save for the virtuosic 1st violin. Then, for reasons known only to Haydn, the music switches to the parallel minor key and commences a full-on four-voice fugal exposition at the same fast tempo. After about thirty seconds of some highly unexpected harmonically active imitative development, the pieces changes on a dime back to the original theme in D major, as if the fugue had never happened. Why did he do that? Was there an arrogant 1st violinist who he wanted to challenge? Was he just fucking around? I don't know the answer. But that Finale is fucking hilarious and you only need the most basic harmonic understanding to hear it. Mozart and Haydn were constantly playing with form in similar ways to the example above. Mozart in particular played around with dynamic contrasts-- a sudden loud chord followed immediately by a soft one. That was an influence on Beethoven, for example.