Introduction: The Perplexing Notation
Have you ever been practicing and suddenly paused, staring at your sheet music because you saw something that looked like a total contradiction? I’m talking about those little staccato dots sitting patiently under a big, sweeping slur mark. It looks like the composer is asking you to play notes short and detached, and connected and smooth, all at once! If you’ve ever felt confused by this symbol, you are definitely not alone. This notation is common but often misunderstood. Let’s clear up the confusion and reveal what it really means. To understand this tricky symbol, we first need to revisit what staccato and slurs mean separately.
Understanding the Basics: Staccato vs. Slur
Before we dive into the mysterious world of dots-under-slurs, let’s ensure we’re on the same page about the two main characters in this notation: staccato and the slur. Think of them as two completely different personalities on the musical stage.
First up, staccato. Those little dots that appear either above or below a note? When you see a staccato mark, the composer is telling you to play that note short and detached. Imagine bouncing a ball quickly – each bounce is a separate, distinct event. That’s staccato! On the piano, this usually means lifting your finger off the key quickly after striking it. For wind or brass players, it involves a crisp articulation (often with the tongue) that stops the air flow or vibration sharply. String players might use a specific bowing technique to create a short, separated sound. The goal is to create space between the notes, making them sound light, separated, and sometimes even a little bouncy or percussive. It’s the opposite of holding a note out for its full value and connecting it smoothly to the next.
Now, let’s talk about the slur. A slur is that lovely curved line that connects two or more different notes. This notation is all about connection and flow. When you see a slur, the instruction is to play the notes smoothly, seamlessly, and without any audible breaks in sound between them. On the piano, you’d typically keep your finger on the first note until you play the next one, creating a legato (connected) feel. For wind and brass players, a slur means you play all the notes under the slur in a single breath or without re-articulating (like tonguing) each note individually – the pitch changes, but the sound remains continuous. String players play all the notes under a slur in a single bow stroke. The effect is like a smooth, flowing line or a vocal phrase, where one note melts into the next. It’s all about creating a sense of continuity and connection.
You see the dilemma, right? We have staccato, which means short and separated, and a slur, which means smooth and connected. Asking a musician to play notes that are both short and detached and smooth and connected under a single slur seems like asking someone to walk and stand still at the same time! It’s a logical paradox in musical terms, which is why this particular notation tends to trip people up. It looks like a direct contradiction on the page.
But composers aren’t usually trying to mess with our heads (well, not all the time!). When they put those little staccato dots under a slur, they have something specific in mind that isn’t quite staccato and isn’t quite a typical slur. It’s a nuance, a different shade of musical expression entirely.
The Notation That Causes Confusion: Staccato Dots Under a Slur
Now, let’s look specifically at the marking that throws so many people for a loop. You have a series of notes, usually moving stepwise or in a phrase, connected by that familiar slur line. But… under that slur, each note has a tiny staccato dot perched either above or below it. It looks exactly like this: a slur arching over a group of notes, each with its own little dot. You can see an example of this notation in this work for French horn.
Seeing this on the page can feel like a musical oxymoron! You’ve just learned that staccato means short and separate, and a slur means connected and smooth. So, are you supposed to play notes that are short and detached, but somehow also connected? It feels like trying to be in two places at once, or maybe trying to whisper and shout at the same time. It’s no wonder this notation causes confusion!
I’ve lost count of how many times a student has pointed at this marking with a furrowed brow, asking, “Wait, am I supposed to play it short, or connected? How can I do both?!” Some try to play it super choppy but keep their fingers down (which just sounds muddy), others ignore the dots completely and play it full legato, and a few bravely try to invent some sort of half-staccato, half-legato technique that often doesn’t quite capture the intended sound. It’s a common stumbling block because, on the surface, it looks like the composer forgot what those symbols mean!
But rest assured, composers are usually quite intentional. When they use this specific combination of symbols, they aren’t asking you to perform a musical impossibility. They are indicating a specific type of articulation and connection that is distinct from both pure staccato and pure legato. It’s a nuance, a color, a particular way of shaping the musical line that needs its own name and technique.
Decoding the Symbol: What “Staccato Under a Slur” Usually Signifies
When composers write those tricky little dots under a slur, they aren’t trying to create a musical paradox. They are actually indicating a specific type of articulation that has its own name! This particular notation is most commonly known as Portato. You might also hear it called mezzo staccato (which literally means “half staccato”) or sometimes slurred staccato, but Portato is the most widely accepted term.
So, what is Portato? Think of it as the middle ground between the super-short, detached sound of staccato and the smooth, seamless flow of legato (played under a regular slur). It’s an articulation where each note is slightly separated, but not sharply cut off. There’s a gentle release or a slight lift between notes, but the overall effect is still connected within the phrase indicated by the slur.
Imagine you’re singing a line of text. Legato might be like singing “I love music” all on one breath, blending the words together smoothly. Staccato might be like saying “I! Love! Mu! Sic!” with sharp breaks between each syllable. Portato, on the other hand, is more like singing “I… love… mu… sic…” where you give a tiny, gentle impulse or nudge to the beginning of each word, but it still feels like one continuous thought or phrase.
The dots under the slur tell you to give each note a little bit of individual definition – a subtle emphasis or a soft separation – while the slur tells you that these notes belong together in a single musical gesture, breath, or bow stroke. It creates a feeling that’s expressive and connected, but with a touch more clarity and gentle articulation than pure legato. It’s often used to create a singing quality that isn’t quite as smooth as legato, or to give a line a bit more direction and shape without making it sound choppy. It’s a beautiful nuance that adds a lot of character to the music. For further insight into musical score markings like this, consider watching this lesson by Malcolm Bilson.
Achieving this sound requires a slightly different approach than standard staccato or legato, and the technique can vary quite a bit depending on what instrument you play.
Playing Portato: Techniques Across Different Instruments
Now that we know those little dots under a slur usually mean Portato, which is that lovely middle ground between super-choppy staccato and super-smooth legato, how do we actually do it? Knowing the name is one thing; achieving the sound on your instrument is another! The technique for achieving this sound is going to look a little different depending on whether you’re blowing air, drawing a bow, pressing keys, or using your voice. The core idea, though, is the same across the board: you want to give each note a sense of its own individual life or pulse, but without completely breaking the connection to the next note in the phrase.
For my string players out there (violins, violas, cellos, basses!), this is often achieved with a technique sometimes called loure or, fittingly, portato bowing. Instead of stopping the bow completely between notes (like for detaché or separate staccato strokes) or playing a completely seamless legato where the sound is uniform, you apply a gentle, pulsing pressure or a slight re-articulation with the bow on each note while the bow is still moving in the same direction. Think of it like a series of gentle pushes or swells within a single, continuous bow stroke. You’re not stopping the bow, but you are giving each note a little breath or emphasis from the string. It creates a beautiful, singing quality that has more definition than pure legato but isn’t sharp or detached. It takes practice to get the pressure just right – too much pressure, and it sounds heavy; too little, and it sounds weak or too legato.
If you play a woodwind or brass instrument, achieving portato usually involves a gentle form of articulation (often with the tongue) for each note within a single breath or slurred phrase. It’s not a sharp, percussive tongue like for staccato (“tah-tah-tah”). Instead, it’s much softer, maybe more like a “dah-dah-dah” or even just a gentle pulse of air or subtle tongue movement that gives each note a clear start without stopping the air flow completely between them. You maintain continuous air support, allowing the sound to flow, but you add these little pushes or articulations to define each note. Imagine singing a phrase and adding a tiny, soft impulse on the beginning of each syllable – it’s that kind of feeling. You’re connecting the notes with your breath, but gently separating them with a soft articulation.
Pianists, our technique for portato often involves using a combination of finger action and arm weight. You’re not going to lift your fingers high off the keys like for a sharp staccato. Instead, you might use a gentle press with arm weight into each note, followed by a slight release of pressure or a gentle lift of the finger just enough to create a subtle separation before playing the next note. Your fingers often stay relatively close to the keys, maintaining a sense of connection. Some teachers describe it as a “sticky legato” or a “pulsing legato.” You’re creating a slight gap or a moment of release between the sound of each note, but the overall feeling is still bound together by the slur and the continuous motion of your hand and arm. It’s about feeling the connection through the phrase even as you give each note its own gentle impulse.
For singers, portato is very similar to how woodwind and brass players approach it. It’s about giving a gentle impulse or a soft “push” of breath to the beginning of each note or syllable within a slurred phrase, without breaking the legato line or the flow of air. You’re not adding a glottal stop or a sharp separation; it’s more like leaning slightly into each note while maintaining smooth breath support. It adds warmth and definition to the vocal line, allowing each note to bloom gently within the phrase.
In essence, no matter your instrument, playing portato is about finding that sweet spot: giving each note just enough individual attention to make it distinct, while ensuring the overall line remains connected and flowing, as indicated by the slur. It’s a wonderful way to add shape, expression, and a singing quality to a musical line that pure legato or pure staccato wouldn’t achieve.
This brings up an interesting question: if this notation means Portato, and we have a word for it, why do composers sometimes choose to write it in this potentially confusing way, with dots under a slur?
Why the Misleading Notation? Historical Context and Practicality
If this notation means Portato, and we have a word for it, why do composers sometimes choose to write it in this potentially confusing way, with dots under a slur, instead of just writing “Portato”? That’s a fantastic question, and it delves a little into the history and practicality of musical notation itself.
Think about musical notation like a language that’s been evolving over centuries. It’s not like someone sat down one day and invented the whole system perfectly from scratch. Symbols were added, changed, and adapted over time, sometimes differently in different places or by different composers. This means the language of music notation isn’t always perfectly logical or consistent across all eras, but it often developed out of practical needs.
In the case of staccato dots under a slur, this notation likely emerged as a visual shorthand. Composers needed a way to indicate that a group of notes should be played within a single phrase or bow stroke or breath (hence the slur) but also have a distinct, articulated quality to each note (hence the dots). Using the existing symbols for slur and staccato, even though they seem contradictory when taken literally, was a quick and efficient way to convey this specific combination of ideas – connection with gentle separation.
Writing the word “Portato” might take up more space, or perhaps the term wasn’t universally understood or preferred by all composers in all periods. The visual representation of the slur plus dots is immediate: you see the phrase shape and the required articulation type all at once. It’s a bit like using emojis today – sometimes a combination of symbols gets the nuanced meaning across faster than words! This specific notation became the standard way to visually represent this particular articulation, even if the symbols, taken individually, seem to argue with each other.
So, while it looks paradoxical, the notation “staccato under a slur” is really a practical, historical shorthand for Portato. Understanding that helps unlock its true meaning and allows us to approach it correctly on our instruments, bringing the composer’s intended nuance and expression to life. It’s a great reminder that sometimes, in music (and life!), things aren’t always exactly what they look like on the surface, and digging a little deeper reveals a richer meaning.
Conclusion: Playing With Clarity and Musicality
So, the mystery is solved! Staccato under a slur is almost always indicating Portato, that beautiful middle ground between detached and connected. Remember, the goal isn’t just to play the notes, but to capture the composer’s expressive intent. Listen critically to your sound, consider the musical context, and practice finding that perfect articulation. Mastering these nuances is key to truly musical playing. Keep experimenting and enjoy bringing these subtle colors to your music! For musicians exploring different musical elements like chords, scales, and progressions, Piano Companion can be a valuable resource. It’s a music theory app designed for songwriters, producers, teachers, and students, offering features like a flexible chord and scale dictionary, reverse mode, and a chord progression builder.