New World Symphony: Exploring Dvořák's fascination with American music
Want to impress people at a piano without actually knowing how to play? Here’s the secret: stick to the black keys. Seriously. Mash them with both hands, spread your fingers wide, and you’ll be surprised by the sweet sounds you make.
Now try the same thing with only the white keys. Hear those random, slightly unpleasant “oops” moments? That’s because the white keys are full of opportunities for musical awkwardness, while the black keys are basically the “no bad notes” zone.
Here’s why: the black keys form what’s called a pentatonic scale—just five notes per octave. The white keys make up a heptatonic scale—seven notes per octave, which is what most Western music uses. More notes crammed into the octave means a greater chance of accidentally pairing ones that clash. The pentatonic scale skips over the harshest clashes, so it’s almost impossible to hit something truly ugly.
But there’s a trade-off: pentatonic scales are smoother, which means less drama. And music needs a little drama. In the Western tradition, dissonance (the clashy stuff) is what makes consonance (the pretty stuff) feel so satisfying. It’s tension and release—like a good joke setup and punchline, or that moment in Happy Birthday when you sing “happy birthday dear ______” and everyone leans in for the final “to you!” That big emotional payoff just doesn’t happen the same way in a pentatonic tune.
Take Amazing Grace, for example. It’s pure pentatonic sweetness. There’s a small ripple of tension at “like me,” but it’s not exactly edge-of-your-seat suspense.
Pentatonic melodies are everywhere—folk songs from China, Scotland, West Africa, Appalachia, Native American traditions, and just about everywhere else humans have made music. You’ve also heard them in jazz, blues, rock, and pop. Chances are your favorite guitar solo is basically a pentatonic workout in disguise.
When Antonín Dvořák landed in New York in 1892 to run the National Conservatory of Music, he wanted to find out what made American music American. The popular music of the day sounded a lot like Europe, but Dvořák was struck by the music of Black Americans and Native Americans. The pentatonic melodies, the rhythms, the raw emotion—it was like nothing he’d encountered at home in Bohemia.
In his New World Symphony, Dvořák didn’t copy these songs note for note. Instead, he borrowed the flavor—the melodic shapes, the rhythms, the feel—and stirred it into his own symphonic recipe. The result was something remarkable: a piece that sounded both deeply American and unmistakably Dvořák.
So next time you sit down at a piano, try the black-key trick. You might not write the next New World Symphony, but you’ll be surprised by some of the sounds you’ll make.
Watch the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra perform New World Symphony Sept. 26-27, 2025. A Coffee Classical performance will be offered Sept. 25.