Test Prep MCAT Test Exam (page: 11)
Test Prep Medical College Admission Test: Verbal Reasoning, Biological Sciences, Physical Sciences, Writing Sample
Updated on: 15-Dec-2025

"Bebop lives!" cries the newest generation of jazz players. During the 1980s, musicians like Wynton Marsalis revived public interest in bebop, the speedy, angular music that first bubbled up out of Harlem in the early 1940s, changing the face of jazz. That Marsalis and others thought of themselves as celebrating and preserving a noble tradition is, in one sense, inevitable. After the excesses of experimental or "free" jazz in the 1960s and the electronic jazz-rock "fusion" of the 70s, it is hardly surprising that people should hearken back to a time when jazz was "purer", perhaps even at the apex of its development. But the recent enthusiasm for bebop is also ironic in light of the music's initial public reception.
In its infancy, during the first two decades of the 20th century, jazz was played by small groups of musicians improvising variations on blues tunes and popular songs. Most of the musicians were unable to read music, and their improvisations were fairly rudimentary. Nevertheless, jazz attained international recognition in the 1920s. Two of the people most responsible for its rise in popularity were Louis Armstrong, the first great jazz soloist, and Fletcher Henderson, leader of the first great jazz band. Armstrong, with his buoyant personality and virtuosic technical skills, greatly expanded the creative range and importance of the soloist in jazz. Henderson, a pianist with extensive training in music theory, foresaw the orchestral possibilities of jazz played by a larger band. He wrote out arrangements of songs for his band members that preserved the spirit of jazz, while at the same time giving soloists a more structured musical background upon which to shape their solo improvisations. In the 1930s, jazz moved further into the mainstream with the advent of the Swing Era. Big bands in the Henderson mold, led by musicians like Benny Goodman, Count Basie and Duke Ellington, achieved unprecedented popularity with jazz-oriented "swing" music that was eminently danceable.
Against this musical backdrop, bebop arrived on the scene. Like other modernist movements in art and literature, bebop music represented a departure from tradition in both form and content, and was met with initial hostility. Bebop tempos were unusually fast, with the soloist often playing at double time to the backing musicians. The rhythms were tricky and complex, the melodies intricate and frequently dissonant, involving chord changes and notes not previously heard in jazz. Before bebop, jazz players had improvised on popular songs such as those produced by Tin-Pan Alley, but bebop tunes were often originals with which jazz audiences were unfamiliar.
Played mainly by small combos rather than big bands, bebop was not danceable; it demanded intellectual concentration. Soon, jazz began to lose its hold on the popular audience, which found the new music disconcerting. Compounding public alienation was the fact that bebop seemed to have arrived on the scene in a completely mature state of development, without that early phase of experimentation that typifies so many movements in the course of Western music. This was as much the result of an accident of history as anything else. The early development of bebop occurred during a three-year ban on recording in this country made necessary by the petrol and vinyl shortages of World War II). By the time the ban was lifted, and the first bebop records were made, the new music seemed to have sprung fully-formed like Athena from the forehead of Zeus. And though a small core of enthusiasts would continue to worship bebop pioneers like Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, many bebop musicians were never able to gain acceptance with any audience and went on to lead lives of obscurity and deprivation.
It can be inferred from the passage that the innovations of Fletcher Henderson (lines 27-34) were inspired primarily by:

"Bebop lives!" cries the newest generation of jazz players. During the 1980s, musicians like Wynton Marsalis revived public interest in bebop, the speedy, angular music that first bubbled up out of Harlem in the early 1940s, changing the face of jazz. That Marsalis and others thought of themselves as celebrating and preserving a noble tradition is, in one sense, inevitable. After the excesses of experimental or "free" jazz in the 1960s and the electronic jazz-rock "fusion" of the 70s, it is hardly surprising that people should hearken back to a time when jazz was "purer", perhaps even at the apex of its development. But the recent enthusiasm for bebop is also ironic in light of the music's initial public reception.
In its infancy, during the first two decades of the 20th century, jazz was played by small groups of musicians improvising variations on blues tunes and popular songs. Most of the musicians were unable to read music, and their improvisations were fairly rudimentary. Nevertheless, jazz attained international recognition in the 1920s. Two of the people most responsible for its rise in popularity were Louis Armstrong, the first great jazz soloist, and Fletcher Henderson, leader of the first great jazz band. Armstrong, with his buoyant personality and virtuosic technical skills, greatly expanded the creative range and importance of the soloist in jazz. Henderson, a pianist with extensive training in music theory, foresaw the orchestral possibilities of jazz played by a larger band. He wrote out arrangements of songs for his band members that preserved the spirit of jazz, while at the same time giving soloists a more structured musical background upon which to shape their solo improvisations. In the 1930s, jazz moved further into the mainstream with the advent of the Swing Era. Big bands in the Henderson mold, led by musicians like Benny Goodman, Count Basie and Duke Ellington, achieved unprecedented popularity with jazz-oriented "swing" music that was eminently danceable.
Against this musical backdrop, bebop arrived on the scene. Like other modernist movements in art and literature, bebop music represented a departure from tradition in both form and content, and was met with initial hostility. Bebop tempos were unusually fast, with the soloist often playing at double time to the backing musicians. The rhythms were tricky and complex, the melodies intricate and frequently dissonant, involving chord changes and notes not previously heard in jazz. Before bebop, jazz players had improvised on popular songs such as those produced by Tin-Pan Alley, but bebop tunes were often originals with which jazz audiences were unfamiliar.
Played mainly by small combos rather than big bands, bebop was not danceable; it demanded intellectual concentration. Soon, jazz began to lose its hold on the popular audience, which found the new music disconcerting. Compounding public alienation was the fact that bebop seemed to have arrived on the scene in a completely mature state of development, without that early phase of experimentation that typifies so many movements in the course of Western music. This was as much the result of an accident of history as anything else. The early development of bebop occurred during a three-year ban on recording in this country made necessary by the petrol and vinyl shortages of World War II). By the time the ban was lifted, and the first bebop records were made, the new music seemed to have sprung fully-formed like Athena from the forehead of Zeus. And though a small core of enthusiasts would continue to worship bebop pioneers like Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, many bebop musicians were never able to gain acceptance with any audience and went on to lead lives of obscurity and deprivation.
According to the passage, all of the following are characteristic of bebop music EXCEPT:

"Bebop lives!" cries the newest generation of jazz players. During the 1980s, musicians like Wynton Marsalis revived public interest in bebop, the speedy, angular music that first bubbled up out of Harlem in the early 1940s, changing the face of jazz. That Marsalis and others thought of themselves as celebrating and preserving a noble tradition is, in one sense, inevitable. After the excesses of experimental or "free" jazz in the 1960s and the electronic jazz-rock "fusion" of the 70s, it is hardly surprising that people should hearken back to a time when jazz was "purer," perhaps even at the apex of its development. But the recent enthusiasm for bebop is also ironic in light of the music's initial public reception.
In its infancy, during the first two decades of the 20th century, jazz was played by small groups of musicians improvising variations on blues tunes and popular songs. Most of the musicians were unable to read music, and their improvisations were fairly rudimentary. Nevertheless, jazz attained international recognition in the 1920s. Two of the people most responsible for its rise in popularity were Louis Armstrong, the first great jazz soloist, and Fletcher Henderson, leader of the first great jazz band. Armstrong, with his buoyant personality and virtuosic technical skills, greatly expanded the creative range and importance of the soloist in jazz. Henderson, a pianist with extensive training in music theory, foresaw the orchestral possibilities of jazz played by a larger band. He wrote out arrangements of songs for his band members that preserved the spirit of jazz, while at the same time giving soloists a more structured musical background upon which to shape their solo improvisations. In the 1930s, jazz moved further into the mainstream with the advent of the Swing Era. Big bands in the Henderson mold, led by musicians like Benny Goodman, Count Basie and Duke Ellington, achieved unprecedented popularity with jazz-oriented "swing" music that was eminently danceable.
Against this musical backdrop, bebop arrived on the scene. Like other modernist movements in art and literature, bebop music represented a departure from tradition in both form and content, and was met with initial hostility. Bebop tempos were unusually fast, with the soloist often playing at double time to the backing musicians. The rhythms were tricky and complex, the melodies intricate and frequently dissonant, involving chord changes and notes not previously heard in jazz. Before bebop, jazz players had improvised on popular songs such as those produced by Tin-Pan Alley, but bebop tunes were often originals with which jazz audiences were unfamiliar.
Played mainly by small combos rather than big bands, bebop was not danceable; it demanded intellectual concentration. Soon, jazz began to lose its hold on the popular audience, which found the new music disconcerting. Compounding public alienation was the fact that bebop seemed to have arrived on the scene in a completely mature state of development, without that early phase of experimentation that typifies so many movements in the course of Western music. This was as much the result of an accident of history as anything else. The early development of bebop occurred during a three-year ban on recording in this country made necessary by the petrol and vinyl shortages of World War II). By the time the ban was lifted, and the first bebop records were made, the new music seemed to have sprung fully-formed like Athena from the forehead of Zeus. And though a small core of enthusiasts would continue to worship bebop pioneers like Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, many bebop musicians were never able to gain acceptance with any audience and went on to lead lives of obscurity and deprivation.
The author suggests that bebop seemed to represent a radical departure from earlier jazz in that it:

"Bebop lives!" cries the newest generation of jazz players. During the 1980s, musicians like Wynton Marsalis revived public interest in bebop, the speedy, angular music that first bubbled up out of Harlem in the early 1940s, changing the face of jazz. That Marsalis and others thought of themselves as celebrating and preserving a noble tradition is, in one sense, inevitable. After the excesses of experimental or "free" jazz in the 1960s and the electronic jazz-rock "fusion" of the 70s, it is hardly surprising that people should hearken back to a time when jazz was "purer," perhaps even at the apex of its development. But the recent enthusiasm for bebop is also ironic in light of the music's initial public reception.
In its infancy, during the first two decades of the 20th century, jazz was played by small groups of musicians improvising variations on blues tunes and popular songs. Most of the musicians were unable to read music, and their improvisations were fairly rudimentary. Nevertheless, jazz attained international recognition in the 1920s. Two of the people most responsible for its rise in popularity were Louis Armstrong, the first great jazz soloist, and Fletcher Henderson, leader of the first great jazz band. Armstrong, with his buoyant personality and virtuosic technical skills, greatly expanded the creative range and importance of the soloist in jazz. Henderson, a pianist with extensive training in music theory, foresaw the orchestral possibilities of jazz played by a larger band. He wrote out arrangements of songs for his band members that preserved the spirit of jazz, while at the same time giving soloists a more structured musical background upon which to shape their solo improvisations. In the 1930s, jazz moved further into the mainstream with the advent of the Swing Era. Big bands in the Henderson mold, led by musicians like Benny Goodman, Count Basie and Duke Ellington, achieved unprecedented popularity with jazz-oriented "swing" music that was eminently danceable.
Against this musical backdrop, bebop arrived on the scene. Like other modernist movements in art and literature, bebop music represented a departure from tradition in both form and content, and was met with initial hostility. Bebop tempos were unusually fast, with the soloist often playing at double time to the backing musicians. The rhythms were tricky and complex, the melodies intricate and frequently dissonant, involving chord changes and notes not previously heard in jazz. Before bebop, jazz players had improvised on popular songs such as those produced by Tin-Pan Alley, but bebop tunes were often originals with which jazz audiences were unfamiliar.
Played mainly by small combos rather than big bands, bebop was not danceable; it demanded intellectual concentration. Soon, jazz began to lose its hold on the popular audience, which found the new music disconcerting. Compounding public alienation was the fact that bebop seemed to have arrived on the scene in a completely mature state of development, without that early phase of experimentation that typifies so many movements in the course of Western music. This was as much the result of an accident of history as anything else. The early development of bebop occurred during a three-year ban on recording in this country made necessary by the petrol and vinyl shortages of World War II). By the time the ban was lifted, and the first bebop records were made, the new music seemed to have sprung fully-formed like Athena from the forehead of Zeus. And though a small core of enthusiasts would continue to worship bebop pioneers like Charlie Parker and Dizzy

Gillespie, many bebop musicians were never able to gain acceptance with any audience and went on to lead lives of obscurity and deprivation.
The author mentions Wynton Marsalis and Charlie Parker as:

Studies of photosynthesis began in the late eighteenth century. One scientist found that green plants produce a substance (later shown to be oxygen) that supports the flame of a candle in a closed container. Several years later it was discovered that a plant must be exposed to light in order to replenish this flame-sustaining "substance." Soon another discovery showed that the oxygen is formed at the expense of another gas, carbon dioxide.
In 1804, de Saussure conducted experiments revealing that equal volumes of carbon dioxide and oxygen are exchanged between a plant and the air surrounding it. De Saussure determined that the weight gained by a plant grown in a pot equals the sum of the weights of carbon derived from absorbed carbon dioxide and water absorbed through plant roots. Using this information, de Saussure was able to postulate that in photosynthesis carbon dioxide and water combine using energy in the form of light to produce carbohydrates, water, and free oxygen. Much later, in 1845, scientists' increased understanding of concepts of chemical energy led them to perceive that, through photosynthesis, light energy is transformed and stored as chemical energy.
In the twentieth century, studies comparing photosynthesis in green plants and in certain sulfur bacteria yielded important information about the photosynthetic process. Because water is both a reactant and a product in the central reaction, it had long been assumed that the oxygen released by photosynthesis comes from splitting the carbon dioxide molecule. In the 1930s, however, this popular view was decisively altered by the studies of C. B. Van Niel. Van Niel studied sulfur bacteria, which use hydrogen sulfide for photosynthesis in the same way that green plants use water, and produce sulfur instead of oxygen. Van Niel saw that the use of carbon dioxide to form carbohydrates was similar in the two types of organisms. He reasoned that the oxygen produced by green plants must derive from water ­ rather than carbon dioxide, as previously assumed ­ in the same way that the sulfur produced by the bacteria derives from hydrogen sulfide. Van Niel's finding was important because the earlier belief had been that oxygen was split off from carbon dioxide, and that carbon then combined with water to form carbohydrates. The new postulate was that, with green plants, hydrogen is removed from water and then combines with carbon dioxide to form the carbohydrates needed by the organism.
Later, Van Niel's assertions were strongly backed by scientists who used water marked with a radioactive isotope of oxygen in order to follow photosynthetic reactions. When the photosynthetically-produced free oxygen was analyzed, the isotope was found to be present.

Which of the following can be inferred about the scientists discussed in the passage?