Messiaen

Messiaen’s parody of Salve Regina in his Subtilité des Corps Glorieux

The version of Salve Regina used by Messiaen is that attributed to Hermann von Reichenau (1013-1054).

A recording is available on Wiki, along with an alternative English translation.

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

A few introductory remarks before the commentary on the parody is made. Since hearing Messiaen’s Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum as a student, I have been intrigued by the use of plainsong in 20^th century music. In Et exspecto a plainsong connection was aurally clear but I was puzzled by how the music was transformed.The question repeated itself with my more extensive study of Peter Maxwell Davies’s music, particularly “Ave Maris Stella”.

What follows is a walkthrough the Subtilité for those listeners who perhaps have asked the same question. I am not going to explore all the characteristics of plainsong that Messiaen incorporates in his musical style, the endeavour is simply to draw parallels between the pieces and where differences occur to offer suggestions why they occur.

It is possible that the reader might say I am missing the most important point, why does Messiaen use plainsong at all? Indeed why do a number of 20^th century composers look back to plainsong as a basis for their music? The answers are as many as the number of composers involved, I would suggest in Messiaen’s case it is a matter of religious upbringing and the history of organ improvisation. If information on the latter is desired I would suggest this excellent account by David Connolly:

https://arrow.dit.ie/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1048&context=appadoc

If the reader is unfamiliar with Messiaen’s musical technique and his modes of limited transposition in particular I suggest this link:

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

The main focus in this blog is on the second mode, which has three stacks of 0,1,3 formations (C, D flat, E flat / E, F#, G and A, B flat, C – octave above opening pitch).

Now to the content of the two pieces.

Section 1

Example 1

The first section is based throughout on the second mode, transposed to C#; pitch content:

C#, D, E, F, G, B flat, B.

The opening tetrachord formed from pairs of semitones has minimal connection with the plainsong, having two pitches in common with the Salve phrase, this tetrachord does not trigger an aural association with the plainsong but does make a dramatic opening statement. The fall of a diminished fifth (A flat, D) becomes a repeated cadence figure and D natural becomes the 'home-note' of the movement.

The two phrases that follow are derived from the phrases Regina, mater misericordiae and the first (unlike the tetrachord opening) has maximum similarity to the plainsong with only one pitch difference (A natural becomes A flat). The C# D C# opening of the second phrase suggests the movement of the second phrase will be similarly strong, but the remainder of the phrase does not fulfil that expectation. The final tetrachord F, E, A flat, D, repeated at mf suggests an echo, it is frequently used - sometimes with pitch modification (e.g. F#, E flat, G#, D) – to divide the plainsong phrases from which Messiaen takes his outlines.

Put in simple terms Messiaen will modify the plainsong by extending the pitch range up or down a semitone, but there are examples of placing a new (and unrelated) pitch or pitches to create greater expression. This is most noticeable towards the close of the movement. There are many instances where the inflections are organized to match a mode of limited transposition, but there are exceptions too.

The maximum system of cohesion relates to the MOLT 2, which has a symmetrical formation, this symmetry adds to the sensation of stasis which makes a musical parallel with plainsong.

Section 2

Example 2

The pitch content of the second section continues with the second mode , but this time transposed up a semitone (D, E flat, x, F", A, B,C).  After the first three pitches of the second line (ex.2) the harmony changes, this is aurally marked by three consecutive semitones, here G, A, G#. 

After the cadence, a variant in content but not spirit of the first section cadences, there is a reworking of the opening of ex. 2, marked by blue brackets, which continues to use MOLT 2 up to the E natural in the third line (9th pitch). 

The function of this pitch is puzzling in the context of pitch stability (i.e staying within the mode). To explain its use a reference to the plainsong outline may be the only alternative explanation. 

Let us examine the third line of the plainsong from which this material is derived 

Ad te clamamas, exsules, filii Hevae. 

Ex. 3

If the high D in the opening phrase is ignored the outline is quite clearly derived from the source. This applies to the whole of the first line of ex. 2, but the second line deviates, extending the pitch range.

This remaining music of ex. 2 closely follows the next line of the plainsong from Ad te suspiramus through to lacrimacum, but deviates on the last syllable to prepare for the cadence with A / E flat.

After this we have a reprise of section 1. pitches 1-24.

Ex. 4

The opening of section 3 derives from Eis ergo, Advoca ta nostra, illos tuos and can be mapped over pitches 1-22 of the extract above. The opening hexachord collection is new and loosely connected to Eis ergo, though we do have the diminished 5^th which prepares us for the much more closely aligned pitch relationship to Advoca ta nostra, illos tuos.  The second line of ex. 4 transposes the mode onto D for the opening phrase and then the music adopts the 3rd MOLT for the next 5 phrases. However we have 3 A naturals in the music, each time contributing to the formation of and movement towards a cadence, I am taking these as a composer's privilege to alter a scheme for musical clarity.

The red line marks the start of the second half of section 3, the first phrase forms a 016 collection which identifies with the start of section 1 and as might be anticipated the remainder follows the precise pitch structure of the now familiar phrase. In all the phrase (which has maximum similarity to the plainsong) is heard four times to contribute to the formal structure of Subtilité.

Section 4

Ex. 5

The final section presents the listener with the most dramatic and expressive phrases of the movement, these terms may surprise the reader when we consider that the music is a parody of the plainsong style which is dominated by a MOLT which produces non-progressive harmony.

To avoid repetition I will restrict my comments to brief observations from this point.

The opening two phrases (of which the second is an extension of the first) are derived from Oclemens Opia.
We then have two long phrases framing the repeat of section 1 material, one ff, one f.
The hexachord formed at the Start Of the third line is a superset of the opening tetrachord of section 1, so despite pitch alteration it logically connects to the repeat of material from section 1 pitches 5-23.

The 0167 formation opens the next long phrase (one might prefer the term melismatic decoration) which contains two chromatic pentachords which aurally indicates how far this music has progressed from the restrained opening.

The close as expected is a reworking Of O dulcis Virgo Maria, and the association is made with t3 Of Mode 2, which provides the G#-D cadence figure, but not the E natural grace note which is the plainsong's territory.

Some simple observations. The reworking of the original plainsong is not a note for note alteration by close pitch association. The music is not a superimposition of one form on another, the plainsong is at best a substructure. The repeat of the opening 4 times in Subtilité demonstrates the difference. The commentary has placed the greater emphasis on pitch, observations on rhythm are outside the scope of a 1k blog.

Does a knowledge of the original enhance the understanding of Subtilité? That is a personal matter, for myself I believe that it does, just as in a jazz reworking of a standard one has to work at making connections, and repeated listening brings the two versions ever closer.

Nurtan added some additional comments to the blog which I am happy to share:

The fundamental question you raised ‘’why plainsong in 20^th century’’ is both challenging and absolutely not amenable to glib answers such as ‘‘just because’’, ‘’lilting melody’’ etc. Messiaen’s organ improvisation and his religious upbringing are good conjectures; but I think it answers a different question which pertains to his enormous success with using modes of limited transposition and their cohesive nature even when applied to plainsong outlines. One possible conjecture is tied to both plainsong and MOLT. If we consider two facts 1) rhythmic repetition (with or without variation) is an essential characteristic of music which makes a simple or complex piece recognisable, and 2) harmonic structure provides a deeper series of contrasts which contribute to the emotional character of a piece. One might be able to reason that MOLT provides a tool kit of well controlled variations of a (harmonic) rhythmic repetition. In increasing the aesthetic value, the contour of the plainsong would indeed be an important restraint. A composer uses the familiar sounds embedded in his or her mind as a resource (religious upbringing).

One might argue that production of pieces like parody of Salve Regina had an influence on other composers to try the technique (James McMillan, Maxwell Davies, and John Tavener from the UK). Also MOLT does not use artificially forced harmony and/or introduced unnecessary notes of serial system – a much harder technique – to avoid either breaking the rules {Alban Berg} or writing very  tense music all the time.

I would like to thank Aldo Bova for his interpretation of the Salve Regina on bass recorder available on You Tube here:

https://youtu.be/ZaOOTynbJOY

and an author's transcription for violin, cello, clarinet, harp and gongs is available here:

https://youtu.be/ilLU_t2FQfA

Instant creation and Malevich’s Black Square.

Some time ago I came across Malevich’s painting “The Black Square” and on reading about its conception and purpose a fascinating collaboration was revealed which led to the establishment of Suprematism. If this movement is unfamiliar to you the names to research along with Malevich are Mikhail Matyushin (musician) and Aleksei Kruchenykh (poet). Their manifesto calls for rational thought to be overthrown.

Here is a link to an extract from “Victory to the Sun” to whet the appetite:

https://youtu.be/gE6UvQ7nMJ4

I hope it amuses as much as it informs.

The reason behind opening this blog with an artistic reference is that it took me to considering how long it took Malevich to conceive the idea of “The Black Square” – could it have been in a single moment, as one might say in a flash of inspiration? As time went on the question expanded into considering different art forms and the preparation that takes place to produce an artistic statement; is there an equal process to the Eureka moment for musicians, poets and other creative thinkers.

Musing on that question generates the thought that there are art forms that evolve over a period of time and others that can be formed in a short or very short time frame. The former includes music, dance, opera, staged events, film and literature. The instant varieties include visual arts and photography.

Once we start thinking about that phrase ‘in an instant’ the discussion can become tricky. While conceiving a whole drama or symphony in an instant is not possible one might argue that the musical intention or a storyline (consider Berlioz and his “Symphony Fantastique”) might be instantaneously experienced by the artist. A little less dramatic than God’s spark we might have concepts like “my work will express emotion x”, or “I will work with nothing other than the interval of a fourth” or “I shall explore two contrasting but related hexachords”. I heard recently that Takemitsu always wanted a title before settling down to composing, and I am of the opinion that phrases and titles can occur to a person in an instant and influence the design of the completed composition. However, in the cold light of reality many of us have seen the excitement generated by the notion that an idea holds great potential only to be cruelly disappointed when attempting to make something of it.

Working from a pre-existing image or sound and modelling a work from that point may be considered as instantaneous even if the eventual outcome takes time and considerable refinement.  Take Wordsworth’s “Daffodils” as an example. Most subjects require considerable work after the “spark”, the creation of a glue to hold the elements together if the material is to keep an audience’s attention for a performance or repeated performances over a period of time. It may be the case that what appears like one idea (daffodils) is in fact two related ideas (the euphoric experience through nature and the eventual return to reality).

Can one note or one brushstroke be an artistic statement? We could play the sorties game here, how many grains of sand make a beach? Not one obviously, nor two. Are a million grains a beach or a sign of erosion? Out of context that pile might take on a different identity, for example material to absorb an oil spill or the raw ingredients of a window. Quantity alone is not enough to create meaning let alone art; is a sustained open fifth more artistic if it lasts a minute, an hour or a decade?

Traditionally musicians have expected their notes to relate to each other, create patterns, and that is a minimum requirement. Outside the traditional approach musicians have explored sound for its own sake, particularly in the post 1950’s period. Historically some musicians push this exploration of timbre further back in time and view Debussy as an early exponent of this movement. In the post 50’s the development of sound generating equipment accelerated and devices like synthesizers and samplers opened up a new world of possibilities. Gradually the interaction of live and electronically modified music permitted spontaneous extensions to alter our expectations of e.g. how a string quartet sounds. In the world of sound for its own sake technical skills are less relevant, the ability to perform at a high level of expertise is equal to or perhaps even less important than being able to express and communicate ideas. There is a parallel here with conceptual art, here is a brief Wiki extract that explores the balance of skill and expression.

An important difference between conceptual art and more "traditional" forms of art-making goes to the question of artistic skill. Although skill in the handling of traditional media often plays little role in conceptual art, it is difficult to argue that no skill is required to make conceptual works, or that skill is always absent from them. 

         

The argument that photography is not an art form lies close to this observation, and the question is asked does one press of a trigger create a work of art or a document? The mechanical action is not the artistic process, but without it there is no product. The photographer has set up his instant, whether in a war zone or in a field with a crop that attracts a particular butterfly, but experience and sensitivity to the subject determines when the button on the camera is pressed. A short and informative exploration of the question is explored in the following Guardian article:

https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2012/oct/19/photography-is-it-art

Before we leave conceptual art, let us consider the notion of a concept in itself being art. Let us imagine a similar event to Wordsworth’s “Daffodils”, a composer is exploring a cave, he hears water dropping into a pool and the sound reverberates. He immediately decides that the experience is worth sharing and decides to replicate the environment in the concert hall. The composer may at a later stage develop the concept, sensors are added to trigger the recorded sound of water drops and the audience interacts. We have all the parameters of musical composition covered, in the first instance chance plays a significant role, with the sensors human control shapes the outcome. Can one argue against this being either instant or art?

Let’s return to the switch on the camera problem and apply it to a composer, and let the composer be Beethoven. We are sent back in time to be at the moment just before the “Ode to Joy” melody has been written down. Beethoven has acquired by this time formidable technical skill, melodies are formed to carry large scale structures. So we ask ourselves where and when the origin of this melody occurs, does it evolve, is it a spontaneous or possibly an accidental outcome of playing at the piano? If it interests the reader there is a paper available as a PDF by Robert Pascall which discusses:

(an) altogether more radical claim that in this finale Beethoven harnesses the structure and processes characteristic of improvisation, and that in so doing he composed what becomes, by that token, an allegory of improvisation; furthermore, it is an allegory enhanced by a narrative aspect that Beethoven gives to his setting of Schiller’s text, initiated by his instrumental and vocal introductions to it and carried through in prominent elements of the setting itself.

http://www.sjsu.edu/beethoven/research/beethoven_gateway/indexers_resources/pascall.pdf

Before we conclude let us consider a modern technological development of the allegory of improvisation. Companies like Native Instruments have developed modules which generate rhythmic pulses that can trigger oscillators and filters. The results can be simple or complex, and sustained for as long as the technician/composer desires. If desired all parameters can be altered as the chain of events occur. Compositional expertise can be minimal but experience guides selection and control.

As the complexity increases the ability to predict the outcome decreases, a situation familiar to total serialists in an earlier period. Technology here offers a half-way house between instant and planned events, and we return to the old argument that chance music may sound good by chance.

To close let us return to Malevich’s painting “The Black Square” in the light of our question; if the idea was simple enough to have occurred like a divine spark, why it is that the idea was revisited four times? Is one Black Square not enough? The answer lies in the difference between a closed idea and one that has the potential for expansion and refinement.

Per Nørgård infinity series. Pitch table for the first 1K place with graphs and commentary. 

Look below for a table of the pitches of the first 1K positions of the infinity series presented as 3 (expandable) images.

If we take the first 10K pitches and explore them for pitch repetition we get the following:

C# = 1,129      C   = 1,129
D  = 1,036       B   = 1,036
D# =   926       A# =    926
E   =   740        A  =    740
F   =    631       G# =    631
F#  =   538       G   =    538

filters may be used to explore other quantities for symmetry.

and here is a link to some fascinating work by Stefaan Himpe (many thanks for your contribution)

https://notebooks.azure.com/sluimermuis/projects/pernorgard/html/InfinitySeries-Copy.ipynb

and here is (I hope) some useful tables of pitches for those - like me - of a more musical - and less mathematical outlook.

An excel table of the first 100k places is available on request, just post a contact in the comments column.

“When you write and draw in pencil, your eraser is your best friend.” 
― Anthony T. Hincks

There are several different versions of this quote, “two ends to a pencil and the rubber is most useful” I seem to recall is attributed to Schoenberg. When I first came across the sentiment I took it to mean that we make errors and need to remove them, later on it evolved into a process of reconsidering the direction of the music and sometimes a retracing of our musical intentions or lines of thought. I had never given time to the notion that to lose whole sections of music (sacrifice hours, days, and weeks of work) to get to the core of an idea might be appropriate.

Before getting into why the action of performing surgery on a well-known symphony has been considered and executed a short diversion is required regarding our views on disregarding a composer’s written plan in relation to the overall form and structure of his or her music.

Making formal adjustments in one’s own works is one thing but doing so in another composer’s music is another matter altogether. Repetitions which may have been appropriate in works before the advent of recorded sound may or may not be vital to the delivery of a satisfactory performance, such a conundrum played through Glen Gould’s mind in his different recordings of the Goldberg Variations. Why would one slavishly follow the design of repeats in the variations – to assist the listener with problems of insomnia hardly seems a convincing musical answer. Even when accepting the notion that no repeated passages are played exactly the same (though in the recording studio they are frequently very similar), some repeats add little to the music. In some recordings of Baroque works we introduce more elaborate ornamentation on repeating, sometimes played to the point of submerging the original. Each period requires a different argument for repetition of sections, but let us not labour that particular point, it has been touched on in previous blogs.

The advent of classical music stations has resulted in many listeners having a “pick and mix” view of art music and if they are satisfied with that format one cannot deny them the right to their enjoyment. Even the more discerning listener may think twice about listening to the complete cycle of Bach’s Preludes and Fugues from book 1 or two (even more so in combination). Pick and mix is not new, operatic arias lifted out of context are common, arrangers select favoured bits, the Ring cycle has its bleeding chunks, and ballets similarly have their concert versions.  So we cut and reassemble our listening experiences to suit our pleasure, but there are times when the discerning listener may question the composer’s intentions to explore, follow a connection or simply isolate a particular feature which attracts the attention. Let us return to the matter of surgery on an old friend.

The origins of the desire to run the first movement into the fourth in the 9^th symphony has its roots in my great admiration of two symphonies by Sibelius, the 5^th and the 7^th. In both questions regarding structure concern the composer, and the nature of the questions concern reviewing the conventional multi movement symphony and how the movements can be forged into a continuous composition. Reading through a number of analytical papers on the matter certain phrases constantly reappear, continual development, 2 movements in one, combined development and recapitulation, cohesion through rhythm, contour and detailed articulations. On the matter of rhythm I particularly like Tom Service’s commentary in the Guardian:

…the Seventh Symphony crystallises a conspectus of a compositional technique that later composers like Elliott Carter, George Benjamin, and countless others, would employ: so–called ”metric modulation”, in which you use a common unit of musical time to elide from one speed to another. …the effect is even more subtle than simply shifting through the gears: the final appearance of the trombone theme, whose three-fold appearances are the symphony’s most obvious landmark, is achieved by a musical time-warp. What I mean is that Sibelius has sped up the music so much that time slows down … so that the hectic crotchets of the symphony’s last scherzoid music become the undulating accompanying bed of sound for the trombone’s theme. That’s a moment of musical magic; a truly Sibelian sleight of symphonic structure.

In my two piano version of the first and fourth movements of Ralph Vaughan Williams 9^th symphony I deliberately reduced the symphony from four movements to two to explore a question of design, are the two movements connected to the point where they can function as one, and might RVW have been influenced by the Sibelius model? I could have been satisfied by leaping through the tracks on a CD or ripping the appropriate parts into an MP3 file, but I wanted to spend time working through the details and hearing the parts at the sort of speed the composer might have worked to catch at least some of the relationships between themes, rhythms and scales. Furthermore I had a strong sense of affinity between the two movements but I needed to see if the intuition had basis in fact.

There is no lack of respect in this action, and I admire RVW’s symphonies, the regard for his work dates back to my school days where the Wasps and Sea Symphony were studied for examination purposes (enough said). For me one movement stood out from the others, the final movement of the sixth which paired well with the final section of Holst’s Planets, the reason for the link did not become apparent for a number of years until I examined both pieces in respect to modes of limited transposition. This style of this subdued, unearthly music was not returned to in later symphonic movements and I felt that the 7^th, 8^th and 9^th symphonies had great character but were less musically fascinating. This view may have been partly informed from reading others who describe the 7^th as an inferior symphony (being an adaptation of film music), and the 8^th and 9^th as a late revisit of his earlier style – including quotations in the 9^th - and technique, as “appropriate” to an older man.

The argument for the four movement symphony seems based in literature, reflecting RVW’s lifelong admiration of Hardy’s landscape and its characters, and in the case of the 9thTess in particular. I understand that Michael Kennedy and Alain Frogley both expound on the literary and geographic imagery, the latter writer particularly expounding connections in the second movement with Tess at Stonehenge. While mentioning Frogley there is a lengthy account on the working methods of RVW and the 9^th, in general terms it seems that the four movements were composed in sequential order, the first almost certainly followed by the second.

As the transcription to two pianos evolved is was aware of the loss of musical colour, it seems that more has been written about the orchestration of the 9^th than anything regarding its structure. However the reduction to two pianos reveals just how astringent the harmony can be. The musical spellings show that the key structures have bitonal elements and the chords are at times as shocking in their starkness as those in “Job”. Another aspect of the 2 piano arrangement is an opportunity to place the focus directly onto the thematic and rhythmic changes, I certainly heard the two movements as consisting of a large number of related paragraphs in a continual evolution, whether this view is shared is a matter for the reader and listener.

In the blog on age and creativity the phases of artistic endeavour were presented, and given RVW’s age we must assume that he was at the time of composing the 9^th either in transition between the two final phases or in the final phase. Here they are again:

“Summing-up” phase. Looking at the events of one’s past and creating a narrative from these 
events. 

“Encore” phase: reaffirming beliefs and opinions and exploring variations on those opinions.

Both have their possibilities in the composer’s approach to the last two symphonies, (their composition overlaps) but in my opinion there are new elements or at least progressions from previous composing interests that demonstrate fresh approaches.

If we are going to compare the ideas of a formal unification of parts with Sibelius let us remind ourselves that Sibelius’s 7th symphony was a product of the mid 1920’s and RVW’s 9^th the 1950’s. Thirty years is a long time in musical history of the 20^th century but the effect of Sibelius’s symphonic music has been profoundly influential, even on composers of the 21^st century (e.g. Maxwell Davies and Per Norgard). Earlier it was stated that in his 7^th symphony Sibelius gives equal weight to the variation of material with tempo, rhythmic design and articulations alongside key relationships, (albeit in a different and more chromatic manner to earlier symphonies).  RVW’s 9^th also shows these characteristics but retains frequent key signature changes, and with the arrival of these changes of key we consistently get new variants on thematic and rhythmic characters. Williams’ use of tempo change is less adventurous than Sibelius but the outcomes are similar with gradual alterations to the rhythmic cells over the course of the music. (One may note the feature of a distinct musical figure being followed by a string of successive running quavers, triplets or semiquavers then a new distinctive figure as the various paragraphs are worked through).

The following examples trace through the evolution of the main rhythmic motifs of the first movement.

While the thematic relationships within the first movement are strong in the final movement the rhythmic design is less dramatic, a 6/8 pulse dominates with forays in 4/4, but there is still an evolution of rhythmic ideas, and the closing figures bring us back to the most characteristic figure of the symphony the rise and fall three note figure on saxophones. We must also recall the long triplet sections (e.g. after the contrapuntal opening) in which the ambiguity of being in 4 beats or 6 is played out and now hear it as a precursor of the final movement.

At the bottom of the blog is the thematic comparisons between the movements used on an earlier blog, the black ink refers to the first movement and the blue the final.

I have not spent a great deal of time on a close harmonic analysis and key structure of the two movements, this task would take far more space and time than a blog permits. However, as I came to finish writing this account I came across a thesis covering this topic and I include the link:

https://orca.cf.ac.uk/96565/1/2003ManningDJPhD.pdf

In this (very informative) document David Manning makes reference to an article by Alain Frogley which I have not read where the idea is proposed that the final movement of the 9^th is two movements in one! However we read the score we must realise that the harmonic design is complex, there are 10 changes of key signature in the first movement, with the music becoming a little more stable in relation to the key signatures from the D minor section (bar 112). The last movement has 15 key signature changes and presents us towards the close with a movement towards major tonality, (C and E). These key signatures are not the conventional signals provided in symphonic music of earlier periods and the degree of ambiguity is high.

How do I now read the symphony? I take it as a win – win situation, we have one and a half symphonies, one full somewhat conventional 4 movement work, and half a symphony that poses as a single movement work that is far more radical. I post the link to the 2 piano arrangement

https://youtu.be/DHYfCUVmVJM

 

Giorgio Sollazzi's statement:

“I think that minimalism is like a soup that Neapolitans use: meat, fish, legumes, cereals, raw vegetables, vegetables, even fruit, can be used. This is a simplistic approach, and if used to compose music fails to answer the questions that the composition poses today.”

One response to this analogy is to say that the good Neapolitan soup makers are experienced in their blending and proportions. A disproportionate use of one ingredient over another can ruin a soup, but does this notion apply to music?  Do all pieces of music have a balance of melody, rhythm, texture and so on? Let us take Giacinto Scelsi and his exploration of a monad as he does in the four pieces for orchestra. As we listen pitch is not the listener’s main focus, his craftsmanship blends the remaining parameters to maintain the musicality of the work. I think it fair to say that it is good to unify a piece of music with a logical exploration of an idea, but if the manipulation is obsessive what should be strength becomes a weakness.

If a composer decides to use very few ingredients – as in minimalist music – then composer has to work at extracting sufficient musical material to stimulate the imagination. If the composer fails in that task the music will be dull, and to use your analogy, tasteless. Similarly if there are too many ingredients the identity of each part is lost; the usual approach in cooking (as I understand) is to enhance the main ingredient not to overwhelm it, and whenever possible use fresh ingredients of the best quality.

 

Are there minimalist works that display poor use of material and fail to stimulate the imagination? Taking the view that each listener has his or her own preference one should argue this question from a theoretical point of view, this could be laborious but there is a shortcut and that is to alter the question by one word:

Are there works that display poor use of material and fail to stimulate the imagination?

It would be a brave and foolish person to say “no” to such a question and so it is fair to apply that answer to minimalism.

If we change the word minimal for procedure and think about “process music”, some listeners recoil at the notion of a pre-determined scheme and believe that the chances of failure to involve the listener increases. Before leaping to any conclusions regarding process let us examine some definitions, I’ll take these from a Wiki article just to move the discussion forward:

Michael Nyman has identified five types of process

1.     Chance determination processes, in which the material is not determined by the composer directly, but through a system he or she creates

2.    People processes, in which performers are allowed to move through given or suggested material, each at his or her own speed

3.    Contextual processes, in which actions depend on unpredictable conditions and on variables arising from the musical continuity

4.    Repetition processes, in which movement is generated solely by extended repetition

5.    Electronic processes, in which some or all aspects of the music are determined by the use of electronics. These processes take many forms.

Galen H. Brown acknowledges Nyman's five categories and proposes adding a sixth: mathematical process, which includes the manipulation of materials by means of permutation, addition, subtraction, multiplication, changes of rate, and so on.

Most of the negative criticisms I read from the public focus on the first, which is directed at serial thinking that took place over a period between 50 to 70 years ago, but each has the potential of provoking comment through the idea that process is de-humanizing, reducing the intuition of the composer.

It is pertinent here to inform you of my first attempts at composing, it was like building with Lego bricks, I would start with a sound I liked, perhaps melodic, perhaps harmonic, and I would play over and over possible ways of progressing. Some choices failed to work or were partially successful. Revision and sometimes destruction of the idea was time consuming, and when it became imperative to complete works on time for examinations I realised that I needed a strategy to work with greater fluency. As a student I had been informed about other composer’s strategies and sometimes adapted them to my own needs, but conflicts arose between systems that provided fluency and my personal musical expression.

You suggest that an additive approach is simplistic and fails to engage with questions posed by contemporary techniques and styles. So what are these questions?

Let us model a few, posing them as a composer beginning a composition:

Am I going to use a simple harmonic language so as not to make excessive demands on audiences?

Am I going to use or avoid repetitive rhythms?

Am I going to restrict the texture to focus on other parameters?

Am I going to use contemporary musical designs or adapt previous forms?

Having posed some musical questions, and hopefully come to a conclusion, the composer progresses to the business of construction. If the music is a process then the number of questions that have to be asked may be reduced e.g. the length or content of the work. After completion the composer may choose to interfere with the process on a surface level such as pitch rearrangement or modify events on a deeper level e.g. adjusting tempi or creating a mobile out of larger units and so on. Some of the processes indicated above take the music out of the composer’s control, if so, all further questions after presenting the initial material are irrelevant to the performance. It is possible of course that questions may be posed after the performance.

When an artisan approaches construction, let us say a potter making a cup, the questions are well rehearsed and generally speaking only small degrees of alteration are required to produce an individual product. It is possible that two composers could decide to explore the same process, it would be fascinating to see how the products would differ. Of course there are different performances of the same process in which the concept prevails but the details differ, but then that happens with all human performances.

If we take the idea that art and music are processes of communication and craft is only concerned with the physical product and its use we are left with one question which should always be asked, is my musical intention being heard and understood?

Did I just listen to an unconscious performance of music?

When Sibelius or similar score producing software plays back the music written into it that is precisely what you have, an unconscious performance. If the quantity of information placed on the score is minimal the execution of the music will be insipid. As the score becomes more detailed, choices of instruments, dynamics, tempi, articulations and the like, the music gradually becomes more “lifelike”. Exchange the stock instruments for better samples and export the music into a DAW that can make increasingly fine adjustments to the tempos, fluctuations in dynamics and gradually the music takes on the character of a humanised performance.

The gap between information and intelligence has gradually been closed during these actions and it is not difficult to conceive that a commercially available score writer will be available where the additional refinements mentioned will be an add-on. For certain types of music the level of predictability will be high, others less so, some composers will find the suggestions useful and others will disable particular features and impose their wants and needs. When the software you own behaves this way the programming can be described as intelligent. As the contest between the software and the human is played out we have intelligence verses consciousness.

We all have experience of intelligence and consciousness, if asked to define them we would probably say that intelligence comes in various flavours and fluctuates in its effective use. We would probably struggle more with defining consciousness perhaps suggesting awareness, sensation, emotional responses, love and hate and so on. Holding onto these assumptions we can immediately distinguish between a machine and a human performance of music. Our super score writer cannot sense emotional responses, but it can imitate them. If it can imitate can we empathise with the result? If the answer is yes then the blurring between intelligence and consciousness has started.

Some argue that where there is processing there is consciousness, in the machine world there are various degrees of information integration, so there are various levels of machine consciousness. With the attention to brain scanning to locate functions and responses we increasingly accept the notion that our behaviours are machine driven, the argument being that our brain is a very complicated machine and our best computers are lacking in the flexibility of the biological construct. If we listen to machine composed music we might agree that the processing of information to produce chord sequences that match Bach’s progressions are similar and that the results are convincing but lacklustre, something is missing. In the old days we might have said it lacks a vital spark, perhaps now we would say that the Bach imitation requires further information.

Let us change the focus a little and consider the processes that we have engaged in to become performers or composers or attentive listeners. A musician has spent many years refining knowledge of the systems of music making and applying it to reproduce, alter, create or recreate various aspects to communicate with others. This person has embraced all the states of learning, transforming learning into a process, grounding the process in experience, applying that experience in the real world, creating and sharing knowledge with others.  Integrated into the learning are real life experiences, observations, formation of ideas, opinions and attitudes and experimentation based within and outside the rules of the system. The consciousness of that musician involves competence within the system and a process of transformation when applying the competence. This transformation is not static, it alters moment by moment, and part of that transformation relates to others, it is a social interaction.

If we now alter the paragraph by substituting musician with software and person with product the method works up to the point where experimentation based within and outside the rules of the system is reached and the process of transformation takes place.

To respond to the question posed in the title my personal view is that we need to reassess our concept of consciousness and be willing to adapt to the idea that the scope of the term performance will need to be widened. In terms of composing musicians should be in a musical win-win situation, we listen, we engage, we reproduce, we innovate.

To stimulate the brain cells here are two examples of computer generated music in different styles.

https://youtu.be/Cbb08ifTzUk

https://youtu.be/QiBM7-5hA6o