Category Archives: Music

Snowforms

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Murray ShaferR. Murray Schafer – Snowforms (1982) – for treble choir

The text consists of inuit words for various kinds of snow : apingaut , first snowfall; mauyk, soft snow; akelrorak , drifting snow ; pokaktok , snow like salt.

Notes from the composer:

In 1971 I flew the polar route from Europe to Vancouver over Greenland. Clear weather provided an excellent opportunity to study the forms of that spectacular and terrifying geography. Immediately, I had an idea for a symphonic work in which sustained bulks of sound would be fractured by occasional splinters of colour. That experience remains clear in memory. It suggested the orchestral textures of “North/White” and it returns now to shape “Snowforms”, yet very differently, for my memory of the vast foldings of Arctic snow has been modified by the experience of passing winters in Ontario. Often on a winter day I have broken off from other work to study the snow from my farmhouse window, and it is the memory of these forms which has suggested most of the continuous horizon of “Snowforms “.

Sometimes I have given children ‘sight-singing’ exercises in which they are asked to ‘sing’ drawings or the shapes of the distant horizon. Snowforms began as a series of sketches of snowdrifts, seen out the window of my Monteagle Valley farmhouse. I took these sketches and traced a pentagram over them. The notes of the pieced emerged wherever the lines of the sketch and the stave crossed. Of course I modified the drawings as necessary since the work is primarily a piece of music and only secondarily a set of sketches. I printed the work so that the shapes of the snow were in white over a pale blue background.

The entire piece is soft, and I wanted the voices to slide from note to note just like falling or drifting snow. Snowforms is related to Epitaph for Moonlight, Miniwanka and Sun ; they are all descriptions of nature. Later I was to add Fire, A Garden of Bells and Once on a Windy Night as further celebrations of natural phenomena. As the urban populations of the world grow, the forces and charms of nature are more distanced from increasing numbers of people. But I do not write such works out of nostalgia; they are a very real part of my life. Snowforms was actually preceded by a much more complex work of the same name which was performed once by the Vancouver Chamber Choir, but I am glad I withdrew it, substituting this simpler and purer expression of one of nature’s most beautiful elements.

Notes from co-conductors :

This 20 th century monument of treble choral literature was written in 1982 by the imaginative, highly respected, internationally praised composer, R. Murray Schafer. Watching from his farmhouse window in Ontario , Schafer was intrigued by the various shapes, forms, and ever-changing, soft foldings of snow. From these observations came the inspiration to write Snowforms. Using graphic notation, he asks singers to sing ‘shapes’ or ‘drawings’ which are representations of snow forms on the distant horizon. Schafer’s graphic notation is augmented by suggested pitches and the voices are asked to ‘glide’ from one pitch to another in a continuous portamento. A time log is written in the score to suggest durations but Schafer is quite specific that conductors should not feel ‘enslaved’ by the timed suggestions. Although it was written for two part treble chorus, there are a few times within the score when each of the two parts split into four independent lines. Except for the occasional interjection of words which mean various types of ‘snow’ in the Inuit language the entire piece is hummed thereby giving a sense of smoothness and peaceful quietness or hush. Challenges for the conductor are to find gestures that suggest and mirror the contours that are found within the score. Challenges for the singers are to believe the piece will ‘work’ and to trust the instincts and imagination of not only the composer and conductor but also of themselves. Snowforms is a remarkable work that fascinates listeners but more importantly encourages collaboration and exchange of ideas between conductors and singers. It encourages performers to create music beyond the bounds of a traditional score with very satisfying results. – DL

Score excerpt (PDF)

Arras

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Barry Truax – Arras (1980) – for four computer-synthesized soundtrackstruax

Author’s notes:

Arras refers metaphorically to the heavy wall hanging or tapestry originally produced in the French town of the same name. The threads running through the material form both a background and, when coloured, a foreground pattern as well, even when they are the same thread. In the piece there is a constant ambiguity between whether a component sound is heard as part of the background texture, or whether it is heard as a foreground event because, in fact, the frequencies are the same. The listener can easily be drawn into the internal complexity of the constantly shifting pattern, but at the same time can sense the overall flow of the entire structure.

Arras is a continuously evolving texture based on a fusion of harmonic and inharmonic spectra. The large-scale structure of the piece follows a pattern of harmonic change going from closely spaced odd harmonics through to widely spaced harmonics towards the end. Each harmonic timbre is paired with an inharmonic one with which it shares specific harmonics, and with which it overlaps after each twenty-five second interval. This harmonic/inharmonic structure forms a background against which specific events are poised: shorter events, specific high pitches which otherwise would be imbedded in the overall timbre, and some percussive events. However, all frequencies found in the foreground events are the same as those in the background texture; hence the constant ambiguity between them.

Arras received an honourable mention in the computer music category of the 1980 International Competition of Electroacoustic Music sponsored by the G.M.E.B. in Bourges, France.

Arras is available on the Cambridge Street Records CD Pacific Rim, and the RCI Anthology of Canadian Electroacoustic Music.

More technical notes here.
Listen to Arras excerpt.

Androgyny

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Barry Truax – Androgyny (1978) – a spatial environment with four computer-synthesized soundtracks

Author’s notes:

Androgyny explores the theme of its title in the abstract world of pure sound. The piece, however, is not programmatic; instead, the dramatic form of the piece has been derived from the nature of the sound material itself. In this case, the sound construction is based on ideas about an acoustic polarity, namely “harmonic” and “inharmonic,” or alternatively, “consonance” and “dissonance.” These concepts are not opposed, but instead, are related in ways that show that a continuum exists between them, such as in the middle of the piece when harmonic timbres slowly “pull apart” and become increasingly dissonant at the peak intensity of the work. At that point a deep harmonic 60 Hz drone enters, similar to the opening section, but now reinforced an octave lower, and leads the piece through to a peaceful conclusion. High above the drone are heard inharmonic bell-like timbres which are tuned to the same fundamental pitch as the harmonic drone, a technique used throughout the work with deeper bells.

The work is designed to sound different spatially when heard on headphones. Through the use of small binaural time delays, instead of intensity differences, the sounds are localized outside the head when heard through headphones. Various spatial movements can also be detected, such as the circular movement of the drones in the last section of the piece.

Although not intended to be programmatic, the work still has environmental images associated with it, namely those suggested by the I Ching hexagram number 62, Preponderance of the Small, with a changing line to number 31, Wooing. The reading describes a mountain, a masculine image, hollowed out at the top to enclose a lake, a feminine image. The two exist as a unity. Thunder is heard close by, clouds race past without giving rain, and a bird soars high but returns to earth.

Androgyny is available on the Melbourne album Androgyne and the Cambridge Street Records CD, SFU 40.

Production Note:

The work was realized with the composer’s POD6 and POD7 programs for computer sound synthesis and composition at Simon Fraser University. All the component sounds are examples of frequency modulation (FM) synthesis, generated in binaural stereo, with time differences between channels. However, considerable analog mixing in the Sonic Research Studio at Simon Fraser University produced the resulting complex work.

Listen to Androgyny

Phantom Terrains

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Streams of wireless data surge from internet exchanges and cellphone relays, flowing from routers to our devices and back again. This saturation of data has become a ubiquitous part of modern life, yet it is completely invisible to us. What would it mean to develop an additional sense which makes us continuously attuned to the invisible data topographies that pervade the city streets?

Phantom Terrains is an experimental platform which aims to answer this question by translating the characteristics of wireless networks into sound. By streaming this signal to a pair of hearing aids, the listener is able to hear the changing landscapes of data that surround them. Network identifiers, data rates and encryption modes are translated into sonic parameters, with familiar networks becoming recognizable by their auditory representations.

The project challenges the notion of assistive hearing technology as a prosthetic, re-imagining it as an enhancement that can surpass the ability of normal human hearing. By using an audio interface to communicate data feeds rather than a visual one, Phantom Terrains explores hearing as a platform for augmented reality that can immerse us in continuous, dynamic streams of data.

Below the map is an audio recording of part of the same walk, as heard through the Phantom Terrains sonification interface. The sound of each network is heard originating from the router’s geographical location, producing clicks whose frequency rises with the signal strength — akin to a layered series of Geiger counters. Routers with particularly strong signals “sing” their network name (SSID), with pitch corresponding to the broadcast channel, and a lower sound denoting the network’s security mode.

The Harmonics of Real Strings

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In questa composizione di John Lely per violoncello solo, l’esecutore esegue un lunghissimo glissando su una sola corda, dal capotasto fino al ponte, esercitando una leggera pressione per ottenere gli armonici, da cui il titolo The Harmonics of Real Strings (2006/2013). Nel CD edito da Another Timbre si possono ascoltare quattro versioni del brano, una per ciascuna corda del violoncello. L’esecutore è Anton Lukoszevieze.

Nella stessa pagina trovate anche un’intervista con il compositore.

Autotune 4’33”

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C’è anche questa versione di Matthew Reid che è abbastanza interessante. Reid ha eseguito il brano filtrando il microfono con un equalizzatore regolato in modo da rinforzare le frequenze di risonanza della stanza. Di conseguenza si è prodotto un feedback.

La registrazione è stata poi passata in Autotune che ha intonato tutti i feedback, sia il bordone del secondo movimento che i vari suoni del terzo. In un certo senso è una versione elettroacustica del brano.

Brutal death metal 4’33”

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La popolarità di John Cage ormai ha raggiunto livelli impensabili. Ecco 4’33” eseguito da Infestation, una brutal death metal band. I commenti su You Tube sono pochi, ma favorevoli e anch’io trovo sia un’esecuzione ben fatta.

Abjad

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Abjad: generare partiture complesse in Python.

Abjad helps composers build up complex pieces of music notation in an iterative and incremental way. Use Abjad to create a symbolic representation of all the notes, rests, staves, tuplets, beams and slurs in any score. Because Abjad extends the Python programming language, you can use Abjad to make systematic changes to your music as you work. And because Abjad wraps the powerful LilyPond music notation package, you can use Abjad to control the typographic details of the symbols on the page.

Questo frammento è tratto da Désordre di Ligeti. Notare la metrica diversa fra le due mani. In realtà, il software capace di scrivere queste figurazioni è LilyPond, perché Abjad genera istruzioni per quest’ultimo.

Invisible Cities

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Invisible Cities (2013) è un’opera di Christopher Cerrone, compositore e librettista, ispirata alle Città Invisibili di Calvino, pubblicato nel 1972.

La fruizione è inusuale. Il palcoscenico è la storica Union Station di Los Angeles. Non c’è separazione fra gli strumentisti, i danzatori, i cantanti e il pubblico: tutti si aggirano per la stazione e il pubblico può ascoltare la musica dovunque, essendo dotato di cuffie wireless (il main sponsor è Sennheiser). E devo dire che ambientare quello che, sia pure solo in superficie, è un racconto di viaggi in un luogo deputato ai viaggi è una bella idea.

Perché l’opera narra, appunto, il racconto di Marco Polo a Kublai Khan. I suoi viaggi e le favolose città che ha visto: alcune reali, altre frutto dell’immaginazione. Città di desiderio, di segni, e di memoria.

La musica è semplice, quasi minimalista, di quella tipica tonalità americana che, grazie alla ripetizione, annulla il dramma tonale per diventare quasi drone music (ma si può anche sentirvi la netta influenza di Escalator Over The Hill di cui potete leggere fra i collegamenti, sotto). Il video, qui sopra, è una playlist in 9 parti.

Note dal sito dell’autore:

The music of Invisible Cities is the result of my first collision with Calvino’s extraordinary novel. For years I had been unable to bridge categories of music, thinking that a work could be either lyrical or conceptually rigorous, but not both. Calvino’s novel, however, is both a tightly structured mathematical work, yet also opens with the gorgeous line:

“In the lives of emperors there is a moment which follows pride in the boundless extension of the territories we have conquered, and the melancholy and relief of knowing we shall soon give up any thought of knowing and understanding them.”

After reading that sentence—so pregnant with meaning, lyricism, mood—I immediately began composing. I imagined the sound of a unearthly resonant and gong-like prepared piano, the ringing of bells, and wind players gently blowing air through their instruments. All of this would support a lyrical and deep voiced Kublai Khan who is slow moving and sings with gravitas. I imagined there would be two women, two high sopranos, who always sing together in harmony: they would be the musical personification of the cities that pervade the novel. And of course, our Italian explorer would be a tenor, light and quick moving, melismatic, and deft.

As with Calvino, there are many formally derived components to my opera. The orchestra is split into two (left and right) halves which alternate melodies to create the whole. The left part is associated Marco Polo, the right is associated with Kublai Khan. And the opera is structured as formally as the novel, always alternating Polo and the Khan’s conversations with Polo’s stories of le città.

To borrow a term from of one of Calvino’s favorite writers, Jorge Luis Borges, Invisible Cities is a garden of forking paths. As the work progresses, you might find yourself wandering back to the same place in Union Station again and again only to find new things happening each time. In the same way, the same few musical ideas of Invisible Cities are revisited again and again, just from vastly different perspectives. As we grow and evolve, the same objects in our lives can acquire such different meanings. That above else governs what Invisible Cities is about: how our memories change as we get older, how our map of the world gets larger, and how our past is always being changed by our ever-shifting present.

Sahaf

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czernowinSahaf (2008) di Chaya Czernowin, per sax (baritono e sopranino), chitarra elettrica, pianoforte e percussioni, eseguito dall’Ensemble Nikel.

Non ne sono del tutto sicuro, ma Sahaf dovrebbe tradursi come vagare, andare alla deriva.