To compose is to be three times truly human

These three qualities are the use of language, tools and the ability to socialize. One aspect of the latter is the ability to evoke responses from individuals and groups alike. Music can draw enormous audiences, as can the greatest of speech makers, who extend the fabric of their argument with repetitions and devices which strongly associate with music, frequently extending the range of the voice to the point where the boundaries of speech and music are crossed.

On a more fundamental level we may substitute the term cooperation for socialization, and that form of collaboration enables us to manipulate raw material into art and share the tensions and resolutions within the ideas expressed. Such raw material could be Tracey Emin’s My Bed, the exploration of jealousy in “Othello” or the expression “God Save the Queen” in the Sex Pistol’s song.

Language is the oil which enables and serves our emotional expression, and musicians have developed many tools to extend the vocal utterances in the form of conventional acoustic instruments, from the reed to tortoise shells and guts as in the myth of the contest of Pan and Apollo, and more recently the electronically produced, ever variable sounds. One of the catch-22 aspects of language (both verbal and musical) is that despite its ability to reveal a great deal about our emotional states and our thoughts it is not the words or notes themselves that carry the meaning. Finding difficulty in continuing one’s musical expression may not be a matter of sorting out pitch relationships or working a given rhythm.

In recent blogs I have attempted to answer the question of what a musician does if he or she runs out of ideas in the composing process. There are many techniques of shaping the progression of a piece of music, particularly in certain styles of music, and many musicians hold opinions as to the content of best to weakest progressions, to the point that these drills become rules. However there is nothing to stop a composer from following one sound with any of an infinite number of alternatives if he or she has no fear of the audience response. One could quote a section of the Moonlight sonata, break the flow of the music and pour a glass of water audibly into a glass and then resume playing. There would be a variety of reactions, mostly negative. I once played a work by Kagel that involved a rather unique approach to pedaling the piano, the response of the audience, and the academics in the hall, was severe.

It seems we have conventions for the use of language, socialization and the use of tools, and there is a cost to tackling and breaking these conventions. We manipulate others by making them responsible for their actions, but we are usually gracious enough to direct our judgement to intentions rather than accidental or unintended outcomes. If I had stated at the start of the performance of Kagel's music that I intended to perform a work which demanded considerable pressure on the sustaining pedal there would have been a very different outcome, possibly including my removal from the auditorium.

In the very human act of composing we play between constructing a succession of events and providing these with the impression of caused reactions. There are a vast number of ways of linking events, and rather like the man who spins plates on a stick the greater the number of associations the greater the chance of failure to ensure continuity. Many composers prefer to work within restrictions, these are often inherent in the style of music and instruments used, as would be the case for writing for gamelan orchestra. Selecting a scale, mode or key instantly imposes some restrictions, particularly in the short term, but possibly in the larger scale construction of the work too. Rhythm can be restricted to cyclic patterns, as in varieties of dance music or Indian tala. Some composers like Morton Feldman restrict themselves to specific dynamic ranges.

As humans as highly responsive to change, establishing one state and then rapidly moving to another has become a well-established method of retaining the listeners attention. So one obvious response to the question of what to do if stuck musically is change direction! As is so often the case Cage takes a different viewpoint, suggesting if you find a certain action boring stay with it long enough and it will become interesting. If this concept seems unappealing it is clear that many musicians who have been drawn to the organ work ASLSP disagree.

While considering the process of conjoining events, whether to give the impression of causation or separation I drew up a table of ways which I use to extend or make more continuous the musical argument. Some require a lifetime’s work to explore fully, as in the use of one chord to another, as in my own work on the hexachords present in the Bridge piano sonata, where, in my opinion there are good and less good progressions. Many of these events are easy to apply, particularly if using electronic sounds, but as with all language a well-crafted sentence may require considerable work.

Where to go next – part 2.

Following on from the blog about causation I wanted to consider how events link and react to each other on different levels and parameters in music. Is there a lexicon which determines what happens in a second event following the first? If there is, is this lexicon part of our “hard wired” expectations or determined by rules established over a given period of time?

When using the tonal system there are a number of expectations and conventions which simulate causation. In my early education examiners awarded marks for correct use of cadences, avoiding parallel fifths and many other issues all of which probably cemented the idea that there was a perfect example of progressing from A to B. There are strong figures which are regularly used, with rising scales the leading note regularly moves to the tonic, it sounds and feels like a natural progression. The perfect cadence isn’t the only way of finishing a work but it is regularly used as is a leap of a minor sixth falling to the fifth. Sequences aid the ear to hear a longer term event and are satisfying provided they are well executed and not over used. Many readers will be familiar with Schenker and his ideas about longer term unity in tonal music, for those new to the idea this short account may be of use:

http://www.schenkerguide.com/whatisschenkeriananalysis.php

Let us not forget that rhythm also creates expectations and has regularly used designs, repetitions of dance rhythms are familiar to people of all cultures, larger scale phrases and rotated blocks of events establish patterns which makes music accessible to all.

Music from the 20^th century set out rules for composition which is another way of saying that there are expectations as to how music progresses from one event to another. There were numerous suggestions as to the method of constructing 12 note music from ways of generating musical figures to the degrees of tension between events, a later variation on the collapse of a 2^nd inversion chord to a root chord. Structure or the long term planning of music became a feature of composer’s discussions about their music, some providing detailed notes to demonstrate the degree of logic and mathematics applied to the music. I recall Peter Maxwell Davies discussing his mathematical planning and saying that it would be possible to find “errors”, but that in his view what was written should be taken as the composer’s intention.

If a piece of music is determined by an imposed order does the question of “where do I go next” arise? Pitch construction and rhythmic design, even register and articulation of pitches can be part of a design, so theoretically a composition could “work itself out”. It is still a composition, it may be musical and it may be shared and enjoyed by others. If such constructions can be put together why do composers intervene in processes?

One consideration is what happens after the process is worked out? Having established and exhausted one idea the options are to conclude the work or extend its content by variation or contrast. One needs to consider is such an event caused by the first action, does it arise from the original idea or is it a dramatic gesture, for example introducing a change of mood or tempo? Some composers adopt a programmatic element to their music, let us take the Stations of the Cross as an example. The 14 images or activities have been used by a large number of composers using tonal examples through to contemporary styles and popular music. The actions or images progress from the Last Supper through the agony in the garden to laying Jesus in the tomb and the resurrection. The fact that the progression is one known to many and can be shared is important in the consideration of action and reaction.

Recognising that it is possible to plan a section or entire piece of music in which events unfold as a process we should accept that humans respond to design and order, sometimes abstract as in Islamic art and sometimes arising out of an external programme of events. Humans react differently to a design as we can observe in the “carbuncle” comments in architecture. Sometimes we have to learn how A progresses to B, without the historical link we make little or at least less sense of the innovation. This raises the question of whether the listener has a responsibility to the artist to be educated in the progression from one state to another.

Any rule given to enable a steady or even a beautiful progression from one event to another can be broken. If we hear a phrase like “I won’t never not do that” some of us will take offense at the construction and some will find the potential for its use, perhaps in a comic manner; I refer to this particularly as grammar is supposed to be “hard-wired”.

When composing with materials outside the conventional language of music, e.g. types of noise or sampled natural events, there is still the possibility of experiencing problems with the flow of the product. The exhaustion of the ear with a given sound might demand a different event and finding one that is agreeable might be difficult. Agreeable is a subjective term so do we require a set of aesthetic values to provide the next stage, such as the Japanese values discussed in a previous blog? If we wanted to test ourselves on how long an event can be sustained within a context one might use the synthesiser sounds from “on the run” in Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon”. Are the ostinato figures perfectly proportioned to get the maximum effect? Given the number of sales of the album one might use an economic rather than aesthetic argument, but then again one might consider the passage as a development from the long opening track of “Atom heart Mother” which creates more interesting and complex relationships, as does the alteration of the synthesiser tone to recorded footsteps and the introduction of the clocks in the later album, all of which may be regarded as a well-designed progression.

"Where to go next when I have run out of ideas".

I was recently asked this question by a composer:

“How do I know where to go next when I have run out of (musical) ideas?” Like so many simple questions it is full of complex issues. In an earlier blog I discussed the musical roles and activities that can now be associated with the term “composer”. There are so many ways of generating, assembling and playing with sounds that thinking in traditional terms such as understanding harmonic progressions will no longer suffice to respond to the question.

What do we mean when we say we have run out of ideas? A process is under way, certain projections have been made based upon the composing intention and the flow of the process is disrupted. Let us say that I wish to grow certain plants in the corner of my garden. There are a number of factors which may assist or hinder my plan, the amount of sunlight, the quality of the soil, the quantity of water available, the presence of other plants and so on. The success of the project may depend on luck, observation, experience, cultural attitude or scientific knowledge or a combination of these.  The more informed we are about the environment in which we work the better our chances of success, but there are no guarantees as the number of variables are large. Some people are considered to have “green fingers” while others can complain that plants don’t survive under their care. This type of thinking has parallels with art in general which makes some people take the attitude that natural or innate talent is required and many attribute ability to genetics. Whether the skills are part or wholly dependent on external factors the processes may still break down or function less well than our initial projection(s) had suggested.

One way of approaching this is to change the question to “what structural problems will I encounter when composing?” To respond one could provide examples of well-structured works, encourage study and imitation and hope that the student will then move on to better formulations and results. This approach is the basis of traditional music education but with changes in technology and methods of sound production and with a wider acceptance of what audiences will tolerate and enjoy it may be time to think outside the box, or at least ask a wider range of questions.

Given that the methods of approaching playing with sound are varied one less rigorous approach could be to gather the material to be used, live with the collection and become familiar with their characteristics, reject some material, reformulate associations before attending to the assemblage, this is an acknowledged process for many composers, but sometimes the less exact processes can lead to reasonable if not inspired outcomes.

If we examine the first part of the question “How do I know where to go next…” we are treading on the ground of causation and correlation. For the purposes of this blog we are considering the musical relationships between objects and events. While playing through the third Arne sonata today I stopped playing after the first part of the Allegro and asked myself what would I do with the material presented? The manoeuvres which Arne selects are entertaining, witty, and delightful, these qualities demonstrates his musicianship and his ability to choose well. So the question needs to be refined again: “How do I know where is best to go next?” In a recent blog I presented the fanciful idea of a supercomputer being given a task of rewriting a development section of a sonata having been given the exposition and rules of procedure. The mechanics of such an idea are fascinating in their own right but when we throw in the assessment of best choice a whole new world of possibilities and difficulties are raised.

While considering causation a list of terms indicating the creative action may be of some use, these are refined to terms best applied to music:

make, create, effect, produce, influence, construct, compose, stimulate, initiate.

The act of creation may bring into play, events, outcomes, developments and a wide variety of results.

While playing the Arne sonata I could take into consideration the development of a number of ideas in relation to each other. Rhythmic figures, harmonies, melodic fragments are all fused into a larger scale identity which is then processed as a single unit to be changed by a recognised formula, e.g. a change of key. However as matters stand in contemporary music the structures and grouping of materials are very different, in some music the relationship between events are highly regulated and in others deliberately disassembled.

If we play a little with Aristotle’s ideas on causation we can identify that our knowledge of objects arise in his terms from formal, material, efficient and final causes. With the focus on music we are dealing with how sounds arise from raw components or constituents, elements or ingredients, forming the structure. We need to appreciate how the sounds are intended and planned to create the final product accepting that music should be determined by its form, arising from pattern, control of its parts and style. In order to achieve this we must be aware of the components and their reactions. Later we may present the reason for the entity’s existence: why is it there, what purpose does it serve?

This helps a little in our quest to answer the question, that is to say, when at a point of crisis in composing music we may ask some relevant questions:

Are the components used appropriate to the task?

Is the form of the work clear? Is there a direction to the product and is the composer using the appropriate constituents to articulate its direction?

Are there sufficient components to achieve the direction, or possibly too many.

Was the purpose of the music well defined at the start of the process? Has the purpose been modified during the process, if so does it need revisiting?

While all this discussion may be of use in practical terms I have found the following procedure most helpful, if the process is not flowing it has become too complex. If the music is too complex the most likely cause is a lack of clarity in the composing intention. If it comes down to the point of I can’t find a B to follow A it is less likely to be a problem of syntax than purpose, but that is a personal point of view.

Musical cues, melisma, masques and misdirection.

Melisma comes from the Greek: μέλισμα, melisma which today we would think of as melody; from μέλος, melos, its plural is melismata.

Melismatic singing presents a long flowing line of melody and is the opposite of syllabic singing where each syllable in the text is joined to a single pitch. It is also one of the best examples of a musical cue for heightened emotion, love and passion. We cannot trace the first uses of melismatic singing, but as it extends speech into a wider pitch range we can assume that it was used to accentuate the emotional content and articulate the importance of a given word or words within a text. If we take Qawwali singing as an example of music that is some 700 years in its development we can hear in the impassioned poetry the use of melisma to great effect in the recordings made by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan.

As a musical genre Qawwali is akin to the Hindustani classical tradition of India. It uses the designs of raga and its metric patterns, talas. Its formal structure is similar to khava, a song genre. The music alternates metrically even choruses and vocal improvisations by the soloist who makes full use of melisma while the accompanists hold onto a regular beat.

The melismatic element takes place in the “ghazal” section which translates simply as love song. The text is influenced by Sufi philosophy which itself plays with the concept of intoxication through wine and pain arising from the loss of one’s lover. These can be taken on the literal level or taken as the higher aspiration of divine union with God, even down to the tavern as the place to find enlightenment. Performers like Khan can be seen as being “intoxicated” with the beauty of the text, and possibly hypnotized by the rhythmic beat of the clapping of the group. In terms of melisma as a cue it is important to recognize the interplay between what is said in the text and the manner in which it is delivered.

  

While ghazal identifies with the divine later music gradually drew on more secular texts, moving through Chivalric romance with its high ideals, through to the present day where love has yielded in many cases to sexual content. The melisma in this context is not restricted to popular music, the “Dulcissime” in Orff’s Carmina Burana is a remarkably beautiful example of the extended voice where the soloist abandons herself to her lover:

“My darling love, now I’ll give you all I have”.

If we take a historical look at cues in Western music the Baroque makes great use of prompts. We begin with associations which may be heard in Renaissance music, ascendit having rising scale figures and descendit falling scales. Developing this to include such devices as the interval of a ninth to indicate loss, anger, horror or desire is not surprising when we consider the Baroque development of opera and or staged works (masques). A school of theorists were at work on the use of cues thought of as the doctrine of the affections. Readers interested in this period may wish to explore the work of Mattherson, Werchneister, Printz, Merburg, Schiebe and Quantz. Their philosophy was that music should depict human emotions and show states of mind. There are a number of devices for reflecting these moods, wide leaps, tremolo, rapidly repeated notes, pizzicato, chromaticism and dissonance. With the growth of instrumental music we are also experiencing the use of the extended voice which takes us back to the earlier discussion of the extended range of the voice to express heightened emotion. There is a specific catalogue of instrumental associations, the timpani are heroic while trumpets and drums have martial associations to imply courage. Trombones are indicators of melancholy and violins love, while the horn for rather sadly is associated with portentousness.

Cues function like tags on your photos and videos in drawing attention to salient features and make your composing intentions clear to your audience. The following paragraphs examine ways of making the best of cues and offer some music examples that have benefitted from their intelligent use.

The use of quotation brings together two or more styles of music where the contrast acts as a major input to shock the listener. George Crumb does just this in the second movement of his “Black Angels”.

       https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KSKYZOM3jAQ

Direct quotation can be substituted for parody as P.M. Davies does in many of his works e.g. inserting foxtrots or reels into otherwise cerebral music. Later in his career he uses folk elements in a less acerbic manner, as in Kettletoft Inn, making use of Northumbrian pipes. At the close of the blog reference is made to deliberate miscuing as heard in “Rosenkavalier”.

Today there are many opportunities for associating images with music. We know from earlier blogs that visual inputs are stronger than aural ones. This arises from early memories of the human face, which is so powerfully imbedded that it is impossible to draw a circle and insert three lines without forming a face. We read images rapidly and create a wealth of associations. Words also promote internal visualisation so the combination of word and image can direct the listener's attention directly into the intentions of your composition. Perhaps you are old enough to recall the scene from "Yellow Submarine" where "glove" becomes "love" at 1 hour 12 minutes into the film:

       https://goo.gl/Y9zRN6

The creative use of scores as visual cues in "Ludwig van" by Kagel provides further examples of new approaches to image and music.

The emotional power of music lies in its ability to create expectations in the listener. These expectations can be created through form, contrast, selection of instruments, vocal resources etc. Traditional formats are powerful structures because of their ability to create and deny successive outcomes, blending old and new promotes better contact with the listener. Henze’s First movement to his first symphony illustrates the point clearly:

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DEXTZy7V0zE

Music is formed from a complex succession of cues, knowing how to blend them the composer’s art. The character of intervals is one of the most significant methods of creating a cue, and recent research shows that the different effect of (e.g.) the major and minor third is recognised across all cultures.  The blog “Deciphering musical codes” gives a guide to which cues feature when examining our musical intentions.   https://goo.gl/tyE66b

      To specify one work that makes excellent use of intervals is close to impossible but for the sake of completion Bernstein’s “Chichester Psalms” will be offered:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yhnml4DW9g


We have also seen from previous blogs that exposure to patterns leads to increased preference, even where the listener actively dislikes the music on its first hearing, this is known as the “mere exposure effect”.

Use inputs that are infused with tags, tremolando indicates suspense even fear and does playing up to the bridge of string instruments.

Some attributes of music are universal, tempo particularly so, rapid movement = joy, slow speeds = sadness. This also applies to register and dynamics. When rehearsing your music consider that even small changes of tempo, accelerando and rit. have a greater effect on the listener than many composers recognise.


Everything comes from the voice is an expression I came across when studying Indian music.  Our brains certainly believe that and melodies are extensions of the pitch and cadence of speech. Contour is aided by tone and register, consider the slow movement of the New World Symphony as to association with the voice in what is labelled “musical contagion”.

Contagion brings together movement and emotion, so dance rhythms make us respond physically and affect our involuntary responses (breath, heartbeat etc.).

Let us consider one successful work, Ravel’s Bolero for some of the above qualities.

It creates expectation through repetition, its climax is powerful because it denies (closes) the rhythm with a wrench. It has been set as a ballet and even as an orchestral work in its own right has visual connotations of place and time. The musical cues are reduced through the process of repetition but are made all the more powerful by the use of tone and register. Ravel’s orchestration creates a number of tags, the saxophone part becomes a character quite different to the flute, and for some the crescendo might offer the tag of menace behind the work as a whole. For me the version for two pianos is the perfect example of how tags work in one format and not another. Three options are given to examine your own responses, please let us know your views.

2 piano version

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJzOFDFTagE



Orchestral

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s_pSJOkmYBA



Ballet

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SsSALaDJuN4

Mixed cues

Strauss Rosenkavalier waltzes. The opera and suite demonstrate that composers can create music which sets out to deliberately misdirect the listener, I offer the following as an example.

Set in mid-18^th-century Vienna, Der Rosenkavalier was composed as a comic opera indebted to Verdi's Falstaff and Molière's satires. The most popular offshoot of the opera is the Waltz suite worked (by many different musicians including Strauss himself) from the opera more for financial than artistic purposes, but nevertheless hugely popular. Many nit-picking commentators have labelled the music "anachronistic" missing the point that Strauss, a master of musical cues, created a perfect example of how to play with our sense of expectation, creating nostalgic music, most appropriate in light of his anticipation and experience of the remarkable changes occurring even in the first decade of 20^th century music.

The musical conventions used by Strauss are closely related to the action of the opera and not used as a frame for the entire work, the opera was never intended as a “period piece” composition even though there are older styles of musical action (choruses, arias, and duets) embedded in the more natural unfolding and disruption of the action.

Misdirection is a valuable tool in many aspects of entertainment, Strauss develops an approach in Rosenkavalier that reflects such thinking and directs it towards a wide range of emotions, not just nostalgia.

An investigation of folksongs

The full PDF can be viewed at:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_EeqYYl3MfMbDFKRHlxT21OZjQ/view?usp=sharing

(highlight link and paste in search engine)

Parallel 5ths.

A section

Pitches           Beat pattern   

0,7         2+2+3+2/2+3+2+2/3+2+2+2

2,9         x  2+2+2+3/2+2+3+2/2+3+2+2

Use sine waves, add a touch of reverb

Then:

First pair             t-1,  -2,  -3,  -4,  -5,  -6

Second pair         t+1, +2. +3, +4, +5, +6

Retain beat pattern

To thicken the texture

Duplicate tracks, transpose up minor third

Place new tracks on beats 3 and 5.

B section

Transpose all of A section up augmented 4^th

Overlap sections.

C section

Mirror A section and overlap B section.

The intention of “Parallel 5ths” was to put together a process that was so simple in design that two people could have arrived independently at a similar outcome. It is a minor experiment to assist the blog writers in the search for what constitutes the composer’s voice.

There should be enough information here to replicate the sounds with basic sound generating equipment.

What makes this design individual is the use of reverb and spatial positioning. Though many would consider these as of secondary importance when the content is consists of such a basic design even the smallest adjustments have the effect of “customising” the final product.

Should any reader / listener feel inclined to replicate or vary these sounds please share with us your work.

As Nurtan and I write (and reread) these blogs we inevitably find certain themes recurring even within very different contexts, here it is the rhythm of this process which leads us into shared blog material. We might anticipate that the systematic use of duration and basic sine wave tones would produce a very static, regular pulse. Judge for yourselves whether the music is static or fluid, iso- or polyrhythmic. I believe that Nurtan has been considering the nature of rhythm and perception, in the autumn we will be offered some insights into his findings.

I add Nurtan's comments on the resulting soundscape which I found thought-provoking:

On parallel fifths – Nurtan Esmen e-mail 24.08.2016

https://soundcloud.com/hannafordsounds/parallel-5ths

The use of resonators was an idea that was developed in a laboratory to reduce the motorway noise by putting a fence of hollow thin tubes of different sizes. I was asked to look over the data – the laboratory results were impressive but in the real world it is not only the tire noise but the big huge lorries travelling 70 mph that generate a lot of unspecified frequency waves (from the turbulence) and unfortunately that did not reduce noise but increased it.

The resonators were set into motion at the fundamental frequency of the tire noise absorbing some of the energy so that at a distance the overall noise level was lower than the normal free field. It is interesting idea but in reality it was not workable. As the wind noise enhanced the amplitude of particular (within the available overtones) frequencies, the dominant being the most prominent of the tube length determined fundamental, so the result was a smaller level fundamental coupled with a highly enhanced  strong 5th and about the same level as the fundamental third and above, sort of a weird organ sound. So the resonators stayed as an environmentally friendly noise reduction for heavily travelled motorways.

 In your synthesis, a similar phenomenon seem to occur but it produces a very nice sound – it is somehow soothing and the superimposed different rhythmic structure of the ‘’pitches’’ is very science fiction like.  I can hear clearly 3 other than the lower pitch grinding like sound straight away and perhaps two more by listening carefully. The pulse is definitely longer for higher frequency – i.e. inversely proportioned. I think it is a great resource for musical applications, sound effects etc.

Zen and the composer’s voice.

I write about myself with the same pencil and in the same exercise book as about him. It is no longer I, but another whose life is just beginning.
Samuel Beckett

In the 1970's I approached the composer and broadcaster Harold Truscott and asked him if he would tell me who he was reminded of when he heard the melody I was about to sing. On hearing the music he gave one of his enigmatic smiles and said that the music reminded him of six different composers and went on to name them and their works. I realised I should have worded the question differently and asked who wrote the music. Several decades later his answer came back to me when considering the composer's voice and the uniqueness of each composer's works.

Before considering either the role of Zen in composing or the composer's voice it would be just as well in our technological and rapidly changing age to consider the definition of the word composer. The Collins dictionary states that to compose is to put together, arrange. In my mind this creates pictures of different scale, large building projects involving cranes and heavy machinery on one hand and the creation of fine parts as in watchmaking (Sibelius and Ravel perhaps).The methods of putting-together could involve improvising, arranging, recording and editing natural sounds, technicians who create their own sounds electronically or through creating new instruments. Some composers re-assemble previously recorded music, as in the manipulation of the turntable. Readers unfamiliar with turntablism will find this  both fascinating and instructive:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turntablism

The varieties of improvisation are wide ranging from those who continue to work traditional harmonic formulae to enthusiasts working noise into a bewildering number of expressive forms. Is there any reason why any composer playing with these very different categories should not be considered as having a distinctive character, even if they are revisiting material that has been worked over endlessly or is literally taken from previously recorded music? If a musician can develop a unique expressive voice from another composer's music or manipulation of electronic or natural sounds does it mean that any person with sufficient knowledge to control the source will produce clearly distinct results?

Do these distinctive features arise from repeated use of small scale details? In art Jackson Pollock's work has been investigated as his style seems to offer an easy route for forgery, the results of these investigations are fascinating, a taste of the study can be read here:

http://arstechnica.com/science/2015/02/computer-algorithm-can-accurately-identify-jackson-pollock-paintings/

I will come back to the notion of the role of the computer in determining originality later.

At some stage in their development most composers are imitators. Adopting and adapting techniques is generally accepted as an integral part of one's education in music making. In the past the sources of imitation were somewhat limited, now that exposure to music is widespread the level of saturation may have a number of possible outcomes on developing one’s style. The diversity might distract some from productive lines of enquiry or direct others to new, fruitful areas. One hopeful consequence is that the expansion of styles may be the fertile ground for a talented musician to gather and form a powerful synthesis, a Bach for the 21^st century.

In order to pin down what the creation of the composer’s voice entails let us imagine that humans are at the stage that an artificial brain (AB) has been manufactured. In order to try out its remarkable computing skills it is given an artistic problem. The problem is to complete a sonata movement where the exposition and recap have been given but not the development. AB is familiar with the use of harmony, key structure, rhythm, articulations etc., in fact all the musical grammar that Beethoven would have known. AB is set to work.

In a few seconds the brain has generated a number of possible outcomes and ranks these from weakest to best. If the solutions were acceptable to performers and analysts could we say that the brain has captured the composer’s voice? In such an instance would publishers provide scores, audiences accept alternative solutions, record producers burn discs?

The programmers go a stage further and challenge AB to write a whole piece in the style of one of the Viennese masters, let us select Beethoven. It would now engage in long term planning and find the correct components to fit into the projected scheme. Knowing the Beethoven notebooks and the methods of trial and error it is a matter of creating variations on previous material (keeping the choices made in an historical context so as to replicate different periods and stylistic changes). If AB made a success of this, and audiences were captivated by the musical argument, could we argue that it had captured the composer’s voice? Would there be any missing elements from Beethoven’s individual style that we humans could pick out to reject the outcome?  The most likely criticism would be that the music had a pedestrian quality. There are times when Beethoven takes less obvious choices, e.g. in the Diabelli Variation No XX there is a chord in bar 12 that is rather remarkable, not one that any student of Beethoven would readily select. If AB composed music that also “took risks” and stood outside the expected framework in order to extend the expressive range of the music then surely AB deserves to be considered a composer rather than a calculator (however sophisticated).

There is something unsettling in this scenario, possibly made even worse with the knowledge of developments in artificial intelligence. The more musical history AB would know the better it could cross-reference works and play with quotations and stylistic details. If AB could manage Beethoven then replicating serial music or minimalism should provide no more of a challenge, some would argue it would be less challenging.

If I had access to AB’s skills and I requested a number of alternative solutions to a problem, and I accepted a particularly brilliant solution, would I be reducing my composing voice or developing it? As I am alive I have the potential of going further than adding a less conventional progression to my music, I could adopting one of the different means of composing as suggested earlier and radically change my approach. Perhaps AB and I would go through a cat and mouse game to see if I would run out of alternative ways of approaching composition that it could match.

Let us return to the title “Zen and the composer’s voice”, this ancient philosophy has a part to play in this somewhat strange blog. Zen has a contrary approach to Western philosophy, it states that if the mind is concerned with words and ideas it can never attain enlightenment. If Zen has a philosophy at all it is to transcend the duality of experience and intellect. The tools of the philosopher, logic and language, are the barriers that need to be overcome. For a follower of Zen the notion of having an individual voice is a hindrance, and the utterances of AB would be nothing more than a distraction.

Does this mean that the Zen follower cannot create music? We have an example in Cage of one composer who strove to lose his individual voice, to remove the influence of the traits which are his lifelong influences (see diagram above).  When he came closest to achieving this liberation the music became revolutionary and a whole world of new sounds released. Are these Zen works ‘John Cage compositions’ possessing a distinct voice? Even the smallest degree of individual contribution to the process will characterise the music, the choice of a specific sound in particular.

As the text included with the insert suggests this is very much a personal response, some listeners will create relationships which will be unrecognisable to others. My own experience of blind listening suggests that this technique of educating oneself is important. Hearing works without verbal or visual clues throws us out of our comfort zone, even with styles of music with which we are familiar. If I had the opportunity to have half a dozen experienced listeners in the same room I would love to expose them to segments of lesser known works and compare their views on the sources of the music. The embarrassment that this sometimes creates is far outweighed by the connections that can be found.

The identification of our individuality is of particular importance to our position in modern society, we strive to share it as widely as possible through image and text as we also strive to maintain privacy through codes, passwords and cryptography. Keys fashioned out of metal were once enough, now the distinct qualities of our bodies, fingerprints, irises and our voice are used, and we should be thankful for that as these remain with us far more easily than objects which can be absent-mindedly placed in the fridge.

Is the aim of developing an individual voice more important than knowing the essentials of musical grammar? The Cage example shows that it is possible to have a musical voice without the usual knowledge of rhythm and harmony, though Cage went through the process of responding to many of the characteristics suggested in the insert before entering his Zen period. From his example it is justifiable to say that the whole necessity of developing a voice alters with the type of music the composer engages with. One could go further and say that the identity is in the domain of the listener rather than the composer.

Whether we like the idea or not composers are susceptible to habit and restricted by intellect and education, in effect our perception of the world is limited, and that is what it is to be human. Being human most of us are born with the ability to speak and create vocal sounds and there are parallels with these and the composer’s voice. I am told, and believe, that each person's physical voice is unique, the muscular structures we are born with alter with age and circumstance, so a sergeant major, a folk singer and heavy drinker will sound remarkably different, (combining all three might sound a little like Tom Waits). This would suggest that there is sufficient variation to ensure that there is uniqueness in each person, it is up to the listener to decide whether that individuality is the ingredient which makes one fall in love with or detest the vocalist.

The Zen voice is that of one hand clapping, it permits the sounds of the world to enter freely. The composer’s voice is both hands, one source, endless variation.

All composers create unique music,

some imitate other composers.

No composer is inimitable.

Why is there such an emphasis on originality in music if the first statement is true?

Why are some composers considered less talented if they are seen as imitators?

Why are some composers imitated by many musicians and others less so?

Should we regard the ability to communicate with others more highly than individuality? If so are popular singer/songwriters better composers that those who work within serious music circles?  Are film composers who have a stock of clichés to draw superior to those who work on more intellectual constructs?

Borrowing other composer’s ideas, intentions, progressions and melodies was acceptable in previous periods, why is this not as widespread today? The sharing of rhythmic design was commonplace, and is still widely shared in a number of styles, but not all.  What are we searching for if we all have distinctive voices?

Previous blogs have focussed on the importance of group identity, it is a significant factor in the arts. It is notorious for creating conflict, and as we have seen the closer the styles of expression the more intense the disagreements. Human beings aim for dominance of such groups so are our efforts for individuality an aspect of this urge?

Some people enjoy risk taking, is it this factor which has a significant part to play in appealing to the public in all styles of music? Are the varieties of risk taking in music part of the natural evolution of ideas? We all enjoy novelty, a new sound, texture or a variant on a scale or tuning attracts attention in all fields of musical construction. The process of risk taking suggests vigour, strength, are we back to the primitive values once again?

Composers of new music navigate hazards,

Some minimise these perils

Others forge ahead and are imitated.

There are no ideal answers in pursuing the composer’s voice, and the expansion in the approaches to composition and its distribution has made the issue yet more complex. Perhaps the best course of action is to sidestep the issue altogether, if asked what sort of musical voice you possess answer honestly that you manipulate the world of sound and its infinite possibilities.