Temporal process models

Writing

Often it can be difficult to come up with a structure for a piece of music (or dance, film, other time based arts) that doesn’t conform to conventional models. That’s not to say that convention is bad per se, but it’s good to be able to choose how you’re going to do something, rather than say “oh, I’m writing something classical, it has to be a sonata or a rondo or a theme and variations”.
Below is a list of processes that occur in time, which processes like the elaboration of sound or movement ideas might follow, to help you generate the form for a piece, or to help you add some kind of structural subtext to other formal ideas of your own, or that are pre-existing.

Storytelling
Learning
Building
Decaying
Growing
Evolving
Remembering
Creating
Speaking
Ageing
Travelling
Sex
Assembling
Unwinding
Hardening
Softening
Moving
Stopping
Heating
Cooling
Revealing
Concealing
Pursuing
Leading
Turning
Metamorphosing
Expanding
Contracting
Accelerating
Decelerating
Crescendo
Decresendo
Changing
Repeating
Reproducing
Gestating

Thoughts on Practice and Technique

Writing

One of the reasons I began a degree in composition, aside from loving all the stuff that goes on under the hood of music, was that playing guitar was becoming a difficult and consistently painful thing to do and I wanted to ensure that whatever happened I’d still be able to make music.

By the end of my first year of undergrad I pretty much had to give the guitar up altogether. Luckily (?) I was able to get away with this as performance on my instrument wasn’t a front and centre concern for a composition degree however it was a far from ideal situation.

I had no one to blame but myself, I’d put myself in this situation through bad habits. My practice had been lazy, inefficient, bullish.

I took a year off guitar and in 2009 began a series of attempts to repair my ability to play. I went to a physio for a while, took a class in Alexander Technique at uni, began practicing yoga again, and between the skills I picked up I cobbled together a rehab program for myself.

Within a year I was able to play basic rock guitar a couple of times a week without significant pain, and I’ve been very carefully re-developing my guitar technique since then. In the last couple of months I’ve been able to resume practicing regularly, if I’m sensible with what I do I can practice every day.

What’s the point of me writing all this?

I’d just like to share a few lessons I’ve learned the hard way about playing instruments and about practice, and hopefully whoever reads this might avoid a couple of pitfalls.

So…

Playing an instrument should be easy

That’s not to say it’s not complicated, or challenging. That’s the art of practice, learning to make progressively complicated tasks easy to execute. Amazing instrumentalists, Hendrix, Menuhin, whoever, play complicated music with ease. For you this might be a quick process or it might be a slow process, it depends. You might be lucky and slip naturally into a really efficient technique, or you might be really good at analysing problems of technique and be able to consciously self correct relatively quickly. If this doesn’t happen for you it doesn’t matter, enjoy what you are able to do with ease and look for small ways to refine and improve what you do. The worst thing you can do is force the matter.

For example a lot of people (myself included) get hung up on how fast they can play. A natural thing to do if an increase in speed doesn’t come easily is to tense up and try to force your hands to move faster. This will work for a while. However if the only way you know how to maintain this ability is through tension and force then you WILL burn out sooner or later, that’s guaranteed.

In this example the route to increased speed is smaller movements, with less energy expended.

Pain is your body telling you you’re doing something wrong

If any part of your technique is causing you pain stop, rest it and try something else. If it’s a pain that’s persistent for minutes or more after you stop, rest it for a day and try something else. If it’s a pain that doesn’t go away at all after you stop (this will happen after years of bad practice) rest it for as long as it takes for the pain to ease, in some cases this could be weeks or months. You need to rest anything causing you pain. You have pain for a very good reason, it’s built into your body at a very primal level and it’s a vital survival tool. Anyone who tells you to “play through” pain doesn’t know what they’re talking about, and they’re on the path to disaster themselves. Follow at your peril.

The only instance in which pain is not something to take too seriously is when you first begin playing an instrument and get some stinging on your skin where you need to form a callus. Even in this instance you need to allow the skin sufficient time to toughen up.

Practice how you intend to perform

A lot of people will adopt a different physical posture, tone, volume level, etc. practicing and performing. If you perform playing standing up and with a broad dynamic range then practice playing standing up with a broad dynamic range. If you practice and perform differently then you’re learning to play in two different ways, you’re essentially learning two instruments, doubling your workload. It will take you longer to improve, and any technical gains that you achieve in your practice may take a while to translate across to performance or may not translate at all.

Only play if you really want to

This one may seem a little silly, practicing an instrument takes a lot of energy and time, but I’ve met a lot of people studying an instrument at university level, who are really good at what they do, who play an instrument…because they play an instrument. They get to the end of it and find themselves at a loose end, and not really wanting to play any more. If this is you, save your time and energy for something you really care about. You’re a very capable, intelligent person, and you could be doing something far more satisfying with your time. Inertia is a pretty tawdry form of motivation, find a better reason, or find something better to do with yourself. And don’t beat yourself up over the effort you’ve already put into it, who knows you may come back to it some day with a new perspective, and if you do your insight will probably make it easier and more rewarding.

Musical musings

Writing

My phD research is coming along well at the moment, and I thought it might be nice to share some ideas here that are arising from it. I suppose generally speaking at the moment I’m looking at how I define the ideas that underpin what I do…composing music.

So,what is…

Sound?

Vibration

Hearing?

The apprehension of vibration and its effects by the body. The traditional assumption is that this occurs only through the ears, but this could/should be extended to include any other organs sensitive to vibration or to its effects; the skin, proprioceptive apparatus, the eyes.

Listening?

Attentiveness to vibration and its effects.

An interpretive act relating vibration based stimuli to memory and knowledge of physical phenomena, methods and means of communication, context, sense of time, etc.

Music?

The cognitive result of listening.

Composition?

The act of shaping or contextualising sounds.

Pre-emptive listening, based on a knowledge of vibration based stimuli, their effects and associations for the listener.

The Location of Music?

The body of the listener.

The specifics of how I describe each of these ideas to myself varies every day, however the general theme stays the same, that notions of hearing/listening are traditionally over-focussed on the ear and exclude much of what goes on in situations where people engage with music. My aim, for the moment at least, is to address the question of how to explore composing for this “expanded listening”.

I’m aware that these definitions are very broad, but I have a hunch they need to be in the present world. For instance language could easily come under my definition of music, which I don’t think is such a bad thing, there have been lots of attempts to wrestle music into linguistic theoretical frameworks and it doesn’t fit, it’s too vague. Whereas I think there’s a good chance language could be a music, or at least it can’t hurt to think of it in that way.

Stay tuned…

Those who can, do

Writing

I’ve been reading Steve Reich’s Writings on Music on and off over the last couple of weeks, which for those who haven’t read it consists of program notes and a few articles written by him from 1965-2000. Anyway, predictably enough in the earlier bits there are a bunch of interesting ideas and the older he gets the more set in his ways he becomes and it starts to dull out a little, and he starts to write a few cranky middle aged man things. This includes such things as re-phrasing the age old cliché “those who can, do; those who can’t, teach” which when I read it I found quite disappointing. It’s a shame that someone of his calibre would perpetuate such an idea, even if sub-textually it seems to have more to do with his personal discomfort with teaching.

So, I have a new version of the old adage, may it catch on:

Those who can, do
Those can teach, teach
Those who can’t teach bad mouth teachers

Dedicated to the music teachers of the world and their insecure detractors.

Recording plan for a learning engineer (written by a learning engineer)

Writing

Mid last year after Nick Carver and I finalised recording and mixing the first Morrisons release I put together a little outline of how I’d like to approach my next recording, based on the experiences we had. I thought others might find it useful, so here it is..

Recording plan for a learning engineer (written by a learning engineer)

  • Analyse properties of ensemble (instruments, voices, various percussion).
  • Figure out in advance what a desirable sound for each instrument is. (identify reference recordings?)
  • Figure out the gear (instruments, amps, mics, preamps, effects)/space (surfaces, dimensions, baffles) necessary to attain desirable sound.
  • Do a sketch recording of song with simplest possible configuration of gear/space elements.
  • Analyse structure of song.
  • Figure out a mix narrative (points to tweak sound/instrumentation/arrangement to fit narrative of song).
  • Amend gear/space plan if necessary.
  • Figure out how the e.q. landscape is going to be covered (what instruments accentuate/are filtered out from what).
  • Record a guide track of all instruments in one space.
  • If optimal spaces for recording instruments are different, perform seperate recordings. (alternately and ideally record the instruments at the same time in their optimal spaces).
  • Be prepared to re-record anything and/or everything.
  • Figure out an order of focus for the various sonic elements (i.e. voice priority 1, drums priority 2, etc.)
  • Consider aesthetic of recording before beginning to mix (does it need to be loud? clean? subtle? are there genre considerations?)
  • Establish necessary buses/routing.
  • Select effects according to specific sonic/narrative objectives.
  • Achieve a satisfying mix on monitors.
  • Test on a variety of speakers, tv, hifi, pa, large, small, etc.
  • Identify corrections to be made, repeat.

My Honours Dissertation On Jack Ellitt

Writing

I’ve been umming and aahing about what to do with this for a while, and as it’s been a year and I haven’t gotten around to trying to get the sucker published, I feel like I should share it here, just so that anyone interested can glean what they can from it.

PDF ahoy…   Light and Rhythm

Abstract

This dissertation examines the creative output of Jack Ellitt, a unique Australian
composer and extraordinary musical thinker and experimentalist who has been largely
forgotten by Australian history.

The circumstances of Jack Ellitt’s life are described and events in it crucial to the
development of his craft and aesthetic traced, providing a context for analysis of three
landmark works of Ellitt’s career: Light Rhythms (1930), Journey #1 (c.1930), and
Homage to Rachel Carson (part 2) (1983).

The Govett-Brewster Contemporary Art Museum in New Zealand holds a copy in their growing Len Lye research collection.

Research

Research, Writing

It feels a bit strange that I’ve been doing research for my Honours thesis for about 3 or 4 months now but I’ve yet to share anything on here. So, a short introduction to my topic and at a later stage I’ll put some more specific writing about my subjects.

Plan A

Originally my plan for this year’s research project was to be to investigate early experimental performance practice in Australia, primarily pre-World War 2. Why? A fair bit of the work I did last year led me to learn about Dadaist and Futurist and Surrealist performance in Europe, and I assumed there must have been some kind of parallel or at least link to here (Australia). Never assume. Well, that’s a bit simplistic, I’m still confident there were progressive music performance practices going on in Australia at that time, it’s just a matter of finding a record of such activity – not easy. I’ve found a couple of mentions of some pretty interesting stuff going on in the music hall scene but what I was looking for was performance that regarded itself as something more serious than light entertainment. So, after panicking about that dead end for a while and trying to think of people I could interview under what seemed at the time pretty oppressive university ethics guidelines, I came to Plan B.

Plan B

…was to look at pre-war ‘experimental’ music practice in Australia in general. I defined experimental (and still do) as musical activity which seeks to extend or transform an existing music tradition either by the exploration of new musical materials, of new methods of composition or improvisation, of new technologies, or of new or novel instrumental and performance techniques. It didn’t take too long for it to become apparent that this was a ridiculously huge topic for an Honous thesis, although I did get a fair way into researching it, far enough to know there’s very little work done in the area and that I should probably return to it in later studies. I did spend a fair bit of time looking into Grainger’s work and ideas, and I’ve cooked up some fun toys that refer to them in Max/MSP, but more about that later. I did have a lot of fun checking out the Grainger Museum’s collection of instruments and artefacts thanks to their curator Astrid Britt Krautschneider, and I’ll be using ideas from that experience in work coming soon.

So that idea got pushed through a sieve and as I had gathered a fairly significant amount of information on a couple of very interesting characters in Australian experimental music I came to…

Plan F

Not strictly alphabetical but that’s how I referred to it with my supervisor. My current and final game plan is to look at two early Australian experimentalists – Elsie Hamilton and Jack Ellitt, and compare them to later, more well known composers who used similar ideas. Their ideas? Hamilton collaborated extensively with Kathleen Schlesinger, an early advocate for and writer on just intonation. Schlesinger devised a system of modes based on equal divisions of a string, theorising that this would have been the first way people would have approached tuning an instrument and was thus a more ‘pure’ principle for pitch choice/organisation than equal temperament. I’m paraphrasing and generalising massively here but she has a very big book on the subject [The Greek Aulos] which is hard to summarise in a sentence. Anyway, Schlesinger’s system captured the imagination of Hamilton and she went on to use it extensively in her own work and became something of spokesperson for it. Jack Ellitt was an early experimenter with tape collage, apparently using optical sound-on-film technology prior to the advent of magnetic audio tape, and was a collaborator with experimental film maker Len Lye for a number of years. The people I chose for comparison were Harry Partch and Karlheinz Stockhausen. Partch because he cites the work of Schlesinger in his book Genesis of a Music and analyses her system in depth, and Stockhausen because of an anecdote (which has since proven to be more urban myth) that he was aware of Ellitt’s pioneering work and attempted to make contact with the then reclusive Ellitt some time in the late 70s / early 80s.

So, that’s what I’m working on.

Information on Elsie Hamilton and Kathleen Schlesinger can be found on Brian Lee’s website nakedlight.co.uk

Thanks are due to Clinton Green for his help with information about Jack Ellitt, you can visit his website here shamefilemusic.com/clinton

If anyone out there in internet world has information about Hamilton or Ellitt and would like to share it, I’d be very appreciative.