Showing posts with label choral. Show all posts
Showing posts with label choral. Show all posts

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Rheingau Musik Festival, Windsbacher Knabenchor at Wiesbaden Marktkirche

Knabenchor, 26-JUL-2012
N    aturgemäß dirigiert er [Lehmann] anders als sein Vorgänger Karl-Friedrich Beringer, aber mit nicht minder intensiver „sprechender” Gestik und Mimik... enorm saubere Intonation, ausgereifte, homogene und ergreifende Piani, flexible Phrasierung, aber auch, wenn nötig, ein raumgreifendes, sattes Fortissimo... ist diese Perfektion nicht Selbstzweck, sondern dient dem musikalischen Ausdruck, der Textausdeutung, der Architektur des Stücks.

[Naturally, Lehmann conducts differently than his predecessor, Karl-Friedrich Beringer, but with no less intense ‘talking’ gestures and facial expressions than he... enormous clean intonation, mature, homogeneous and poignant piani, flexible phrasing, but also, as necessary, an expansive, lush fortissimo... This perfection is not an end in itself but serves the musical expression, the interpretation of the text, the architecture of the piece.]”
  —  Klaus Kalchschmid, Süddeutsche Zeitung, 07-MAY-2012.

S ing Bach and Mendelssohn in the dwindling twilight, with your dark blue suits and brilliant white shirts and long necktie or bowtie depending on your tenure with the choir.

S ing without ambition or guile. Sing like your sound can fix all that is wrong with the world, as it seems now very plausible to us in the audience that it can. Yes, we are sure of it.

O h, and yes, sing, if you can manage it, when your choirmate behind you on the 5-tier risers has just had the audacity/impudence to hoist your underwear and give you a ‘snuggy’ while Martin Lehmann is looking down at his score preparing to embark on the next piece, in this concert that is being recorded for CD. The smiles of your neighbors reveal how hard it is for them to maintain their facial and vocal composure amid such hilarity and extreme risk.

Y ou and some of your fellow singers in the choir have dead-on perfect pitch; some have a vocal maturity beyond their years; some of the younger ones have an innocent sound that will soon be lost as their experience of the world accumulates.

T he unstoppable beauty of your sound in this 2-hour concert is nearly impossible for us to bear. Afterward, we walk in the dark over the cobblestones back to our hotel and think about this, grateful for the sonic/spiritual gift you have given to all of us—a miracle of Olympic-level vocal performance and musicianship that seemingly has come without sacrifice of your ineffable boyness or your individual truth.

Holy Dog Water


Holy Dog Water, 26-JUL-2012

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Mozart’s Requiem Down Under

Sydney Opera House
M   ozart’s ‘Requiem’ brings a shift in mood—with the terror, the sorrow, and the sheer drama of Life … and Death.”
  — Sydney Symphony, program notes, MAY-2012.

T he performance of Mozart’s Requiem in D minor, K.626, by members of the Sydney Symphony led by [guest] conductor David Zinman challenged our patience last night. The Süssmayr completion of the Requiem is something that many ensembles perform in 57 min or longer, full of pathos. But speeding it up more than 15%, to come in at less than 49 min, is aesthetically not a great idea. Specifically, it’s not a good idea when the acoustic delay of the stage that is more than 14 meters deep from the conductor to the rearmost chorister makes the performers sound as though they are not ‘together’.

A lthough I’ve been in Australia previously, this was the first time I’d heard a performance in the Sydney Opera House… a very warm, responsive hall.

T he vocal parts were ably performed by Jennifer Welch-Babidge, soprano; Fiona Campbell, mezzo-soprano; Paul McMahon, tenor; Paul Whelan, bass; and the Sydney Philharmonia Choirs.

A nd a diverting and expansive pre-concert talk was given by singer and musicologist Natalie Shea, who cued up more than a dozen clips of recordings to illustrate the points she was making.

T o me, I hear this Dies Irae as an ‘appogiatura’ within a Lacrimosa-esque life; or Mozart saying, in full view of his own fast-approaching death, “Life is hard, and then you (and we all—) die.” In that kind of frame of mind, I’m troubled by Robert Levin’s view that Mozart scholar Simon Keefe is asserting that accurately understanding the Requiem necessarily requires an historically-informed sense of context or that late 18th-Century judgments of the work are ‘privileged’ or somehow more valid than anything we might grasp or express. It just seems that the work is more naturally accessible than that. (I do like Levin’s own completion of the Requiem, though—complete with a fugue ending of the Lacrimosa.)

U  nsanctimonious’ to the point of ‘willfulness’... like musically rendering a [personal] prayer, not a Mass.”
  — Natalie Shea, pre-concert remarks, 03-MAY-2012.

T he mystery of how much of the Requiem was Süssmayr’s and how much was Mozart’s will maybe never be resolved. But ultimately, the nature of the piece seems to me to be more individual/idiosyncratic—an individualistic expression of what it is to be mortal; a personal ‘music-of-the-soul’—than requiem-idiomatic or ‘normative’ of what a requiem should be or say.

P .S.—I’m looking forward to the release later this year of Professor Keefe’s new book, which reevaluates the nature of the incomplete manuscript and its context. Keefe covers the history of the work and extensively reviews the accumulated criticism, analysis, and performance practices that pertain to it. Keefe particularly focuses on the autograph score and on Franz Süssmayr’s 1792 completion, which is the one that the Sydney Symphony and Philharmonia Choirs performed tonight. Keefe recommends that evidence that is confined only to records of Mozart’s life and correspondence and notations in the incomplete manuscript are not enough—understanding the Requiem instead requires broader, hermeneutics-based methods of analysis.

Keefe book

Monday, January 16, 2012

How likely to sing after radiation therapy for head-and-neck cancer?

ASCAR
F   or oropharynx and nasopharynx cancers, it is sometimes possible to limit the dose received by the larynx according to the extent of the primary lesion. Thus, if the tumour constraints permit, the maximum dose to the larynx must be less than 63 to 66 Gy. To reduce the risk of laryngeal edema, it is recommended if possible to limit the mean non-involved larynx dose to 40 to 45 Gy [to prevent dysphonia or significant damage to vocal cords/folds].”
  —  C. Debelleix and co-workers, Centre Hospitalier Dax-Côte d'Argent, France.
T he question in this post's title has arisen several times each year over the 5 years I've been writing this blog. A relatively small percentage of the approximately 52,000 persons per year who receive a diagnosis of some form of cancer of the head and neck (U.S. SEER statistics; AHRQ HCUPnet statistics for procedures HCPCS L30318, G0251, G0339, G0340; CPT-4 77373, 77401-77435, etc.; ICD-9 92.3x) and the thousands of patients (U.S.) who receive radiation to the neck as part of a treatment regimen for a head-and-neck cancer are singers—either avid amateurs or professionals. However, the rate of inquiry by (or on behalf of) singers for whom this situation does happen is evidently not by any means ‘rare’. There have been 6 such search-strings that I have noticed in the CMT traffic logs in the past 3 weeks alone.

S o this post is meant to provide you with links to recent medical literature that you can show to your otolaryngologist/oncologist and discuss. In that regard, the typical radiation oncologist tends not to be expert in medical management of musicians; conversely, specialists in medical problems of musicians tend not to have a great deal of experience with head-and-neck cancers for which radiation therapy is routinely used. This is compounded by the fact that the situation of singers undergoing radiation to the neck is just uncommon enough that there are not many clinical trials or specific studies conducted in that population. The published studies that have some relevancy to the question are not easy for your physician to locate online or in the library either—which is why I believe providing these links will be helpful.

A  majority of the published work on this topic has to do with ‘quality-of-life’ (QoL) measurement in cancer patients treated with radiation to the neck, where one of the QoL measurements is ease of vocalization and the frequency and severity of pain or hoarseness or other forms of dysphonia or vocal abnormalities.

F or each patient, the specific cancer type and the extent of the cancer’s spread and other factors contribute to the decision-making as to whether ‘larynx-sparing’ reduced-dose, stereotactic, imagery-guided radiation therapy is a sensible approach or not. But in those cases where it is deemed to be a reasonable approach, there are specific guidelines for planning and conducting such radiotherapy.

O f course, there is no guarantee that returning to singing will be achievable, or that vocal quality or agility or range or endurance will be the same as they were prior to treatment. But to get the best chance for those outcomes, the info in the lit below should be part of your decision-making with your doctors.

I f you’re one of those who’ve been hitting the web and this blog looking for info on larynx-preserving radiotherapy and prognosis with regard to return to post-treatment singing, maybe the links below will be useful for you and your doc!

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Silent Steppe Cantata: Serendipitous transport, to places of unexpected illumination & healing

Silent Steppe Cantata
M   usic can—and often does—transport us to places that no other artform can.”
  —  Anne LeBaron.
T   his international project presents fresh ideas by opening new and often unexpected horizons of creativity. The serious nature and deep content and design of the cantata aroused genuine interest from the public. The Cantata is one of the most important international events of contemporary classical music in Central Asia.”
  —  Aigul Beisenova, Business Kazakhstan.
T here are artistic projects that heal and redeem and enlighten. And then, to our even greater delight, there are those that achieve this across vast cultural and political chasms, auguring well for world peace.



A nne LeBaron’s Silent Steppe Cantata receives its world première today (10-DEC-2011) at the Palace of Peace and Reconciliation in Astana, Kazakhstan.

T he Silent Steppe Cantata Project is an artistic consortium, consisting of composer Anne LeBaron with her co-producer, tenor Timur Bekbosunov, plus filmmaker, Sandra Powers. The multi-media cantata is a sonic and visual portrait of Kazakhstan. Together with Bekbosunov, the Sary-Arka Folk Instrument Orchestra and the Chamber Choir of the Astana Philharmonic Society will perform the official premiere.

Silent Steppe Cantata
T he libretto incorporates Kazakh stories and mythology, and draws upon poems of Russian and Kazakh writers, including the poet Olzhas Suleimenov. Suleimenov has authored more than 16 volumes of poetry and prose, and his 1975 novel Az-i-Ia received both wide recognition in Kazakhstan and abroad, plus censure by Soviet authorities.

Silent Steppe Cantata
T he Palace of Peace and Reconciliation is a 77m high pyramid-shaped facility designed by Foster+Partners Architects and built by Sembol Construction at a cost of 8.74B Kazakh tenge (about USD$58M). Among other things, it houses a 1,500-seat concert/opera hall. It opened in late 2006. What a fitting venue for today’s première!

L istening to excerpts online, I am intrigued by the exposition of Kazakh ethnogenesis that the cantata and film portray. Without being revisionistic or grinding any particular philosophical “axes,” the cantata (the music, and the historical and contemporary texts comprising the libretto) reveals the inherently slippery, shifting imagination of Kazakh ethnic origins. It is their shifting, not a Western shifting; it is an indigenous acceptance of transitoriness/ephemerality that may derive from the primordial “geography” of the Kazakh nation and tribes. Acceptance without relativism/fatalism/determinism.

T he cantata demonstrates evidence of local elders and a musicoliterary elite struggling through the millennia to come to terms with the evolving political demarcations of Central Asia. Through their struggle, they created a handful of discrete ‘nationalities’, sustained through the centuries. If anything, the impression (from the bits of the cantata and film that we can experience online) is one of the indomitability of the spirit and of authentic human diversity. Needless adversity and suffering destroy things; they are never ‘noble’ or ‘desirable.’ But there is this residue of survivors—people, and music, and stories, and culture—and this once-dogged, now-expansive persistence of the will to peace. This cantata inspires as well as teaches!

Silent Steppe Cantata
W ish we could be there for the première!

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Chamber Music-Induced Chills

 King’s College, Cambridge
L ast night I attended the candle-lit evensong choral services at Kings’ College Chapel. The 28-voice boys’ choir sang the service.

A t various moments, chills went up and down my spine, listening to the organ and the beautiful voices reverberate through the large sanctuary. “Why does the body do this?” I wondered. Go to PubMed and have a look!

C hills seem to be related to distinct musical structures and the “reward” system in the brain, including parts of the ventral striatum, the midbrain, the amygdala, the orbitofrontal cortex, and the ventral medial prefrontal cortex. Considerable research has recently been published on “chills”—as “leading indicator” correlates of emotional “rewards” that the brain is just now processing and propagating to other parts of the body, and as near-term “trailing indicators” of individual cognitive and emotional peaks just-past. Phenotypic measurements of physiological arousal (skin conductance response, heart rate, heart rate variability, etc.) consistently show peaks during chill episodes. Replication of the original studies have confirmed that chills are a reliable marker of emotional peaks that are induced by structures in music, that are temporally associated with self-reported subjective feelings with physiological arousal.

F or example, Oliver Grewe, Eckart Altenmüller, Reinhard Kopiez, Frederick Nagel, and others at the Institut für Musikphysiologie und Musikmedizin in the Hochschule für Musik, Theater und Medien, Hannover, find that people already familiar with the music are more likely to feel shivers up their spines at characteristic, predictable moments:
  • At transitions from loud to quiet;
  • Upon the entry of a solo voice or instrument;
  • When two (or more) parts have harmonic contrasts, such as close-harmony with beat-frequency interference between the notes'/formants' spectra; and
  • When the music evokes memories of past experiences that were emotionally intense.
T he responses of people who are not already acquainted with a piece of music are, in general, weaker and less predictable.

I n terms of programming for chamber music presenters and ensembles, these findings may lend some support to the traditional precept of including at least one familiar work in each program.

A s listeners or performers, in terms of explaining why our reactions to a work on first hearing are sometimes less vivid or shivery than we would like or expect, the lesson seems to be “Wait awhile. Give it multiple hearings. Assimilate the piece over time, and see what it does to you later.”

A nd, as composers, there is probably no surprise in these findings. Devising chill-inducing structures and mechanisms to create and resolve dramatic tension is what you do and have always done. Understanding the neurophysiology of music-induced shivering and spine-tingling doesn’t provide you with any new tools beyond the ones you already comprehend and routinely use. The aesthetic decisions about when and how often to use them remain the same as always.

I f you’re interested in the recent research on music and shivering, have a look at these papers (links below) to read about various bits of the physiologic mechanisms of music-induced “chills,” such as are known so far.

 King’s College, Cambridge



Friday, December 11, 2009

Tallis Scholars, Notes on Remembrances, Riding

Conducting hands
T    he oxymoron ‘aural image’ highlights the special nature of musical ‘exemplarity’ and notational representation. Notated music examples are doubly distant from the aural phenomena that they represent: the notation stands for sound, but, excised and framed as example, points back to a presumed whole that it represents (synechdoche) and also forward from the new discourse of which it becomes a part... In moving from an analogical mode to an iconic one, the example itself becomes exemplar—inducing an imitative realization on the part of the audience.”
  —  Cristle Collins Judd, Reading Renaissance Music Theory, p. 5.
C oncerts like the one that Tallis Scholars presented in Kansas City last night reconstitute iconic ‘things’ in their own likeness, by encompassing them as examples.

A s Cristle Collins Judd (Dean for Academic Affairs & Prof of Music Theory at Bowdoin) has written, examples are inherently ‘dependent texts’: they occur in the context of other/larger texts or discourses, which provide the framework by which we understand them and systematize them and recognize them and remember them.

T he holiday season and concerts that are performed during the holiday season are meta-exemplary? They abound in the recognizable. They leverage both tradition and memory to work their magic. As ‘exemplary’, they bring what’s ‘outside’ into the ‘inside’—inside the texts/discourses that they enlarge and annotate and illuminate as we listen and participate in the spell that’s being cast...

T here are, of course, discontinuities and rhetorical processes that aren’t discursive. The music; the program notes for the Tallis performance; the snippets of rendered music notation that we are able to review, etc.—are extreme in their ability to simultaneously provide streams of visual imagery and sonic stimuli along with the unfolding ‘text’.

W e delight in Josquin’s 6 usual Marian tropes—the delight made juicier by our knowledge that the Missa de beata virgine was later piously excised in the 22nd session of the Council of Trent, in 1562-1563.

I s my reveling at papal pique and Counter-Reformation vanity so wrong?

O h, the final cadences, enriched with thirds that Josquin did not put there. The mensuration of transitions resolved to clean, clear ‘sesquialtera’ completions that were not Josquin’s. The final notes’ durations lengthened or more notes added to tidy it up. Bare spots filled-in. ‘Tis a thing now of even greater beauty than it were in Josquin’s day...

I  need to go to library and check out a copy of Sherr’s wonderful book (link below).

T his Tallis Josquin has got to be the most beautiful version of the Kyrie and Sanctus I have ever heard! Tallis’s Missa de beata virgine is a scholarly version, not a vehement or sentimental or valedictory one. I find the Tallis Scholars’ approach brings a new freshness to the piece that I can’t help but prefer. In particular, the soprano, countertenor, and alto parts have a lovely tone and some soul-stirring melodies above the lower voices. The friendly acoustics of the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception lends extra warmth to the endeavor.

P hillips’s conducting—and the responsiveness of the ensemble to his direction—are the causes of the vibrancy and freshness. And just watch! The ‘vibrancy’ is explicit, demanded by Phillips’s hand gestures on many downbeats and on fermatas. So besides the notation and the ‘aural image’, we have the visual image of the conductor and the choir...

P hillips’s hands extend outward from his waist, oscillating in a diminuendo—the amplitude of the hand vibrations decays from 2 centimeters, peak-to-peak, to zero centimeters over a period of a second or so. The waveshape of the gestural decay is approximately exponential each time, with a time constant 1/λ equal to about 200 milliseconds. He does this throughout the performance; it is clearly a core idiom of Phillips’s personal conducting language.
Exponential decay envelope

   A(t) = A0exp(-λt)

T his is not a ‘bouncy’ gesture. Instead, it suggests exquisite ‘tautness’, controlled impulsion—an equine sort of ‘puissance’ being brought gracefully to rest. It reminds me specifically of a manner of applying ‘leg aids’ to the flanks of your horse when you are bringing your horse to an elegant halt in the dressage ring.

W hat I mean to say is, this choral ensemble ‘animal’ loves its work, and it aims to utterly please. And the choral ‘rider’ [Phillips] loves the suppleness and compliance he finds in the animal, and his subsequent hand ‘aids’ generously adapt to the eager suppleness that’s displayed by the animal.

W hat we see and hear, then, is this sublime unity of the joy of conducting and the joy of singing, the joys of riding and of being ridden. Spirituality through innocent, virtuosic carnality. Maybe that’s what the Council of Trent was worried about.

Conducting hands
A    usterity, logic, and Josquin’s complete command of compositional form and contrapuntal symmetry permeate [Missa de beata virgine], suggesting a purity of conception meant to please God in its perfection—not excite the passions of men and women.”
  —  Peter Phillips, Tallis Scholars Programme Notes, 10-DEC-2009.




Friday, March 20, 2009

網絡空間: 個人空間的延展 Cyberspace: China, The Extension of Personal Space & Future of Everything

 Zhou Long
T    hinking about what we could do to share different cultures in our new society, I have been composing music seriously to achieve my goal of improving the understanding between peoples from various backgrounds. My conceptions have often come from ancient Chinese poetry. There are musical traits directly reminiscent of ancient China: sensitive melodies, expressive glissandi in various statements, and, in particular, a peculiarly Chinese undercurrent of tranquility and meditation. The cross-fertilization of color, material, and technique, and on a deeper level, cultural heritage, makes for challenging work. But there is more than this... more than reminiscence.”
  —  Zhou Long.
T he members of UMKC Wind Ensemble and Choir gave a nice performance last night at White Recital Hall (Steven Davis and Joseph Parisi conducting). The program included:

  • Chen Yi: Fanfare [premiere]
  • Zhou Long: The Future of Fire (for orchestra and choir; new transcription) [premiere]
  • Paul Rudy & Bobby Watson: Finally... (Bobby Watson, saxophone) [premiere]
  • James Mobberley: Words of Love (Rebecca Sherburn, soprano)
  • Alban Berg: Kammerkonzert (Benny Kim, violin; Robert Weirich, piano)
E ach work was admirably executed; and it was my intention to post some comments about the Berg piece, since, with 15 parts, it is the only one that’s totally consistent with the focus of CMT exclusively on ‘chamber music’. But limited time prevents me from putting up remarks about more than one piece right now, and ‘Future of Fire’ was the work that most captured my imagination.

P reviously, Zhou’s ‘Future of Fire’ was scored for orchestra and children’s choir—with the timbres and social implications that children singing to a predominantly adult audience can have. It has been performed, though, by adult choirs as well, including Chanticleer.


    [50-sec clip, Chanticleer, Zhou Long, ‘Words of the Sun’, 1.2MB MP3]


    [50-sec clip, Singapore Symphony Orchestra, Zhou Long, ‘Future of Fire’, 1.2MB MP3]

I n his new transcription, the orchestra is smaller, with textures that are more ‘chamber-like’. The 11 female voices were positioned on the left side of the stage, and the 7 men were on the right. The new transcription has the genders trading volleys—some of them lilting and lyrical, others punchy, punctate. There are no ‘extra’ notes, but there is an intense urgency ... a feeling of up-to-the-last-moment ‘indeterminacy’, about which notes the women’s parts will take next, and which notes will form the men’s parts’ response.

S o, ‘Notes Uncle’, which note? 五声阿叔, 孰徵? [wǔ-shēng-à-shú, shú-zhǐ?]

I  was reminded of the infamous YouTube video about ‘Bus Uncle’ [巴士阿叔, bā-shì-à-shú].

T he stream-of-consciousness mode that characterizes much of Zhou’s writing is present in ‘Future of Fire’, but now with a more assertive ‘mash-up’ quality and extemporaneity than it had in the children’s choir version. The volleys of disconnected gestures between the voices, the sound masses where vocal parts are doubled by instruments (women by woodwinds; men by brass)—these are clearly of Chinese origin and they are pure Zhou. But last night in the premiere of the new transcription, the atmospherics expressed (in Zhou’s abstract, modernist manner)... the future, not so much of Fire per se, but of Everything... The future of our world and our relationships with each other and with Authority.

F ire might, I think, be Zhou’s place-holder for ‘technology’ and our evolving array of social practices involving technology. In Web 2.0 social networking, what personal information may today be disclosed without the individual’s consent? 究竟在網絡這個「新世界」中,甚麼資訊是可以透露?

U nder what conditions or circumstances may it be disclosed? 在甚麼條件/情況下透露?

W hat musical expressions are strictly intimate, private, chamber-music-like, such that others have no right to mess with it or interfere with it? 又有甚麼資訊是嚴格屬於私人保有,別人無權干涉的呢?

T hese issues, to me, are what the new transcription of Zhou’s ‘Future of Fire’ assays. Truly wonderful, both in its beauty and in its political/social statement!

 Lucy Zhao, tr. of Walt Whitman ‘Leaves of Grass: Out of the Cradle, Endlessly Rocking’
I  , the singer of painful and joyous songs, the uniter
         of this life and the next,
Receiving all silent signs, using them all,
         but then, leaping across them at full speed,
Sing of the Past.

[Borne hither, ere all eludes me—hurriedly,
A man, yet by these tears a little boy again,
Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves—
I—chanter of pains and joys, uniter
         of here and hereafter,
Taking all hints to use them,
         but swiftly leaping beyond them,
A reminiscence sing.]”
  —  Lucy Zhao, tr. of Walt Whitman ‘Leaves of Grass: Out of the Cradle, Endlessly Rocking’; Peter Hessler, English back-translation from Zhao, in ‘Oracle Bones’, p. 458 ; [Whitman original].



Friday, January 9, 2009

Dissonance and ‘Frisson’: Harmonic Spectral Complexity and Rate of Change of Complexity

I   t does feel like the brighter vowels are placed in chords that will benefit from the ‘frisson’ of their higher overtones. (This compositional device also resonates with the use of solfege as an intonational device—the built-in brightening of 3rd and 7th degrees of the scale from their syllables.)”
  —  Liz Garnett, BCU, commenting on choral [and barbershop] orchestration in previous CMT blog post.
F   ris•son´ [free-sohn]
{1770–80; < F: shiver, shudder, OF friçons (pl.) < LL frictiōnem, acc. of frictiō shiver (taken as deriv. of frīgēre to be cold)}
n.: a sudden, passing sensation of excitement; a shudder of emotion; a thrill.”
T he previous CMT post led composer/vocal coach/musicologist Liz Garnett at the Birmingham Conservatoire to comment on the multi-factorial origins of perceptual interest that’s aroused by harmonically complex polyphony. I especially liked Liz’s expression, ‘frisson’, when she was describing the sizzle of close-harmony and beat-frequencies among intertwining harmonics. The word ‘frisson’ exactly captures the sense that I experienced when I was singing tenor in a barbershop quartet for four years in the early 1990s. Maybe the word is vivid and accurate for you as well.

L iz averred that she had not studied the nature of the effect systematically [yet] but is interested in doing so. And she and I both agree that the effect is real and that it deserves systematic study. The matter is of interest (a) to composers who, by knowing additional dimensions of how the underlying acoustics and cognitive processes of music work, will be better able to reliably write music that efficiently utilizes those processes; (b) to performers and conductors who, by more fully understanding how a piece operates, will be better able to interpret and deliver the effects that the piece has to offer; (c) to recording engineers and sound-reinforcement engineers and architects who, through new insights into the harmonic properties of the sounds they are helping to produce, will be better able to create ‘systems’ and performance venues that do justice to the live aesthetics; and (d) to musicologists and music theorists, who want to enable us to make sense of it all. Maybe this somewhat esoteric topic even has some interest to regular audience members—at least science-friendly, numerate ones like you.

T here are a variety of wonderful recent books on the cognitive psychology of music; many of those have been cited in CMT posts over the past two years. But none of them, so far as I am aware, has specifically and quantitatively examined mechanisms of attention-capture and –retention by music as a function of its harmonic spectral content and trajectory.

B ut how to go about doing this? Well, first we need to have a collection of examples of compositions and performances that illustrate the effect we’re wanting to study—the ‘frisson’ of harmonic/spectral trajectories. Many barbershop and other close-harmony choral pieces are ideal examples, insofar as they generate most of their perceptual interest precisely in the way that Liz and I were discussing. The Eric Whitacre ‘Lux Aurumque’ piece is perfect: it is harmonically rich, but it is rhythmically and textually very simple—elegant. Many pieces of instrumental chamber music will also be analyzable by the methods I have in mind, and contain passages where much of the cognitive content is generated by close-harmony polyphony. So, in response to Liz Garnett’s suggestion and with an interest in continuity with the CMT post that stimulated it, I thought I’d take the Dale Warland Singers’ recording of ‘Lux Aurumque’ and see what I could make of it with some digital spectrum analysis.

I   write bars, for the musicians—because they have to be ‘together’. It’s difficult when you have multiple different speeds going on at the same time. But don’t think that this is mathematics. There are some [mathematical] constructions in it [i.e., in my compositional design], but the whole thing is ‘music’. In my piano concerto I developed the polyphony to a much higher level of complexity. I think in harmony and rhythm I have found ‘it’. But in melody, I still search…”
  —  György Ligeti, interview with Dorle Soria, 1987, Musical America 107(4).
A s I often try to do here on CMT, I invoke other disciplines outside of music itself, to see what techniques and analytical formalisms they may have to offer us. The cognitive robotics and artificial intelligence (AI) communities, for example, are not ordinarily ‘collaborators’ with music theory people, except on ‘music information retrieval’ (MIR) and a few other subjects. Consider, though, the recent work of Jürgen Schmidhuber and colleagues at TUM and IDSIA.

Jürgen Schmidhuber, Professor of Cognitive Robotics, TUM
I  nterestingness’ becomes the first derivative [with respect to time] of ‘subjective beauty’ [as a function of time]. As the learning agent improves its data compression algorithm, formerly apparently-random data parts become subjectively more regular and ‘beautiful’. Such progress in [adaptive, dynamic] data compression is measured and maximized by the ‘curiosity drive’ [that is exhibited by the agent’s behavior]: create action sequences that extend the observation history and that yield previously unknown, unpredictable-but-quickly-learnable algorithmic regularity. That is how beauty arises and how our interest is captured.”
  —  Jürgen Schmidhuber, Professor of Cognitive Robotics, Technische Univ Munich and Co-Director, IDSIA, Lugano, Switzerland, 2007.
J ürgen Schmidhuber is not the first to have linked aesthetic ‘interest’ with the time-derivative (the rate-of-change of ‘beauty’), nor is he the first to have associated ‘beauty’ with ‘complexity’. Fred Lerdahl at Columbia and many others have had similar thoughts in the past. But Jürgen takes the thought further, perhaps, than others have done, in terms of his analysis of the detailed adaptive encoding/compression behaviors that accompany cognitive ‘interest’—the ‘origination-persistence-dissipation’ life-cycle of it.

A nd, although the first-order time-derivative (slope) of harmonic complexity c(t) is not by any means the only predictor of musical interest or subjective ‘frisson’ or ‘sizzle’, it is one of the things that we can readily examine, to investigate how good or poor a correlate of ‘frisson’ it is. That’s what I set about to do this past week. The preliminary results of my initial exploring appear further down this page...

C   omplexity that works is built up out of modules that work perfectly, layered one over the other.”
  —  Kevin Kelly, ‘Out of Control: The New Biology of Machines, Social Systems, & the Economic World’, 1995.
 Vowels, Formants F1 and F2
Y ou may like to know that there are a variety of ‘freeware’ software applications that can help you do this sort of thing, in case you wish to undertake some investigation of these things yourself. SFS from the Phonetics Dept at UCL is the tool that I happened to use, although there are several other purpose-built spectral analysis programs for harmonic and formant analysis of speech, which allow importing .mp3 or .wav audio files. Or you can use the signal-processing modules of MATLAB or other full-function analytics packages.

T he more challenging thing, in my view, is to select a quantitative complexity index (or, alternatively, devise a new, entirely original complexity metric) that adequately represents the harmonic complexity of the polyphony at any instant in time and that enables us to analyze the timeseries of serial complexity indices of the music in sync with the music’s score. The mathematics and computer science literature on Kolmogorov complexity is especially extensive.

B ut Kolmogorov is computationally more difficult to implement than I wanted to do right now. So I considered Lempel-Ziv complexity (LZC), which is another complexity metric that has received much attention over the past 30 years. I have used LZC in a recent project in my software-engineering day-job, and I have coded it in C and C++ languages in the past. But the LZC is a ‘left-to-right reading’ or ‘directional’ complexity metric, which is undesirable for what we are aiming to do here. We don’t want a complexity metric that gives different or undue emphasis or deemphasis to harmonics that are on the ‘left’ of the input string (the low-frequency bands, bass) vs. the ‘middle’ (the mid-range registers, tenor and alto) vs. the ‘right’ (the high-frequency bands, soprano, etc.).

F or my initial study, I therefore settled on a simple, non-directional ‘compositional complexity’ metric, with a separate ‘channel’ for each of [any number of] the significant harmonics that exist (in the context of the chord that prevails at each moment). My complexity metric has no fancy adjustments for pitch error or jitter or phasing or nonlinear Fletcher-Munson- or Robinson-Dadson-type aural sensitivity curves or other important things. It’s a basic, exploratory tool, nothing more. It is not meant to be a definitive representation of the sound or the waveform or the neurophysiology of our hearing of the sound. It is not the product of some extensive, scholarly project. It’s just ‘lunch’—featuring left-over things I know from other analytics projects I’ve done, plus a few hours of Java coding and testing. In other words, my complexity metric is just a quick, simple method to see whether the interpretive path that I’m on makes sense and whether it might be productive or not. Productive for me … or sufficiently intriguing for you or others to pursue it further.

T his ‘compositional complexity’ metric is designed so as to assign the same complexity value to a given polyphony/harmonics ‘pattern’ regardless of its performance dynamics. That is, the string A=‘1020000000000000’ and B=‘2070000000000000’ have the same pitches sounded, for example. The pitches have different sound intensities and different relative loudnesses with respect to each other, so their timbres are actually substantially different. But for the preliminary purposes of this experiment, A and B are harmonically ‘the same’, according to our simple ‘compositional complexity’ metric, in terms of the pitches and beat-frequencies, etc., that they contain. They each have only two loudness levels instantiated and they each have only two harmonics instantiated: therefore, their complexity metrics are identical.

W hat next? The sound intensity needs to be determined at each moment in time (in elapsed milliseconds, in the .mp3), with each moment/sample tagged with the corresponding notation in the music score. For simplicity’s sake, I arbitrarily chose to do 3-bit quantization of the sound intensity (8 levels, coded as ‘0’ to ‘7’), corresponding roughly to qualitative ‘nil’, ‘ppp’, ‘pp’, ‘p’, ‘mp’, ‘mf’, ‘f’, and ‘fff’ dynamics. I measured the sound-level of each harmonic, ascertained from the SFS digital spectrograms of the Warland ‘Lux Aurumque’ .mp3 at each point in time. In other words, my sound intensity quantization of this .mp3 did not just assign one dynamics code at each moment but instead assigned a multi-frequency ‘vector’ comprised of up to 16 three-bit dynamics codes at each moment, one for each harmonic present [plus the ‘0’=‘nil’ sound intensity code for any harmonic that was ‘implied’ by the prevailing chord structure but un-voiced or absent in the sampled audio].

 Harmonics
Here is a jpeg SFS screenshot of one of the ‘Lux’ vowels in the piece...

 SFS, spectrogram of Whitacre ‘Lux Aurumque’, m. 6
I  then wrote a simple Java program to accept these 16-vectors as input and calculate the compositional complexity for each one. Now, we don’t want a coarser or finer representation of the frequency domain (EQ bands) to cause us to compute wildly different complexity index values. We want our complexity metric to be ‘normed’ and vary, say, on a range between 0.0 and 1.0, regardless how many or few bands or channels we use to measure the polyphony and harmonics. The nj are the numbers of each harmonic 'band' in the sample. C varies from values close to zero for simple, flute-like, near sine-wave sounds up to 1.0 for all-hell-broke-loose dissonance.

T he equation that governs the ‘normalization’ of the computed complexity index is a function of the number of ‘bands’—the EQ spectrogram ‘length’ L (expressed in bins, by note-by-note fundamental in bin #1, its octave in bin #2, and so on). The normalization also a function of the number of sound-intensity levels, which was N=8 for my 3-bit quantization, as shown in this equation.

 Normed Complexity
T he normalization calculation is done automatically in my little Java program. If you like, you can click on the jpeg of the Java code below and download a copy to play with.

 complexity.java program, DSM
Y ou can download the free copy of the Java Development Kit (JDK) from Sun Microsystems here. Extract it to your hard-drive. Then compile the complexity.java program in a command window with the ‘javac’ compiler command:

     C:\>\Program Files\Java\jdk1.6.0_11\bin\javac complexity.java

To run the program, use the java command:

     C:\>\Program Files\Java\jdk1.6.0_11\bin\java complexity

Y ou don’t need to be a software developer/programmer to do this. It’s easy. Entering some intensity vectors from the keyboard as strings gives you output like what you see below…

 Output of complexity.java with example 16-band harmonics and 3-bit quantization
T hen we take that timeseries of complexity values computed from our spectral analysis measurements of the .mp3 music file and use difference-equations (in Excel or whatever you like) to estimate the first derivative (slope, rate-of-change) of the complexity at each time point. When we plot it, it looks like this…

DSM, complexity analysis, 16-harmonic, 3-bit quantization, Eric Whitacre, ‘Lux Aurumque’, mm. 6 – 8, Dale Warland Singers
W hat we see here is that the moments that have that ‘frisson’ that Liz and I were referring to do have high complexity levels. And the heart-pounding, emotionally-evocative compositional structures/moments tend to be ones where the first derivative of complexity has high positive or negative values—moments of dramatic change in polyphony harmonics and dynamics.

T   he art of ‘simplicity’ is a puzzle of ‘complexity’.”
  —  Douglas Horton, Harvard Divinity School, 1955.
W hen the performance is delivered in an echoic space like a cathedral, you get significantly non-zero spectral complexities that linger hundreds of milliseconds after a note is released. The ‘shock’ value of this is almost as great as the ‘voix celeste’ beat-frequency implied-pitch effects we were discussing before. The effect is somewhat like SONAR: your voices are acoustically ‘imaging’ the geometry of the performance hall, somewhat like a bat would do … flying around in the upper reaches of Chartres Cathedral at Christmas Eve midnight Mass. The composer has created a gesture that causes you to acoustically plumb your ‘situatedness’ and physicality as a human being in the cathedral, much like a bat. The polyphony—the frisson and its decay—causes you to realize your physical humanness in a very dramatic, palpable way. You are performatively ‘present’ more vividly than at almost any other time in your life. Through the ‘frisson’ you become intensely aware of your own personhood and that of the other singers (or instrumental players) around you. It is breath-taking to hear it; tremendously exciting or emotionally unnerving to perform it.

Incidentally (but unsurprisingly), expressively-effective close-harmony ‘frisson’ doesn’t come suddenly out of ‘nowhere’. It has a foundation—a methodical, deliberate architecture. We look at the c(t) and dc(t)/dt curves, and we see that the effect builds progressively, logically, over a phrase or a portion of a phrase. You feel this happening when you sing it, of course. These spectral analysis and complexity timeseries plots only confirm quantitatively/objectively what most of us feel intuitively/subjectively. Same thing when you perform a similarly orchestrated close-harmony piece of instrumental music. The acclaim that Eric Whitacre has accrued over the past 10 years redounds to his skill in engineering these kinds of harmonic gestures. The ambiguity of the C#m [I] → C#m7/9 (D#m7) [II6] V-of-V supertonic and other things Whitacre’s got going on in here are impressive.

S   implicity does not precede complexity but instead follows it.”
  —  Alan J. Perlis, ‘Software Metrics’, 1981.
A  more extended, time-consuming effort will be required to statistically evaluate the correlation of the spectral ‘brightening’ (more acoustic energy in the higher harmonics) with certain vowel and consonant sounds and short time-scale structures associating text phonetics-to-timbre and –pitch/–spectrum. It’s more work than I have time to devote to right now. But this CMT post is meant to convince you that studying effects like these quantitatively is surely feasible—feasible even using available free-ware and simple complexity metrics that you can code for free in Java. In other words, there is a real possibility for you to do this without a big expenditure for software or expensive computers. If you are a student in a conservatory, though, you probably will want to get copies of several of the books in the list below ...

 Vowels, formants F1 and F2
W hat else? Well, it’s important to note that you can’t write a piece that has constant low levels of complexity—or constant, excessive complexity—and expect people to sit still for it. Nor can you whip-saw people with changes in dc(t)/dt that are too frequent or too fast. You either won’t capture the artists’/audience’s attention at all, or you will rapidly lose it, annoying them in the process. Beauty and interest may indeed be functions of the first time-derivative, as Jürgen Schmidhuber says, but that doesn’t mean that ‘more is better’ or that ‘all frisson, all the time’ is a categorical aesthetic good. You need to write with a storyline—compose/arrange with a good ‘plot’ in mind. Of course, this comes as no surprise. For me, the surprise is being able now to quantatively see what we already knew or believed—understanding the mechanisms of musical ‘interest’ in terms of spectral complexity timeseries. It’s a new way to understand the ‘mechanics’ of how good writing works, and to identify the faults and reasons why other compositions don’t work. Simple. And pretty useful, I think.

 Wundt curve, preference as function of complexity, elegant brinkspersonship
T hanks for your interest in this topic! Please feel free to post a comment or email me anytime, about this or other aspects concerning how we transmit/receive/perceive musical aesthetic value. If there’s enough interest, I’ll continue with more posts in this vein. And thanks especially to you, Liz, for the dialogue.

T   he complexity of things—the things within things—is endless. Nothing is easy; nothing is simple... I was looking forward to telling the truth, or some of it, in all its complexity, to a person who would not be surprised or outraged by it.”
  —  Alice Munro, ‘Carried Away’, 2006.

John Rhys-Davies, ‘Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark’, Lucasfilm, 1981
I   ndy, why does the floor move?”
  —  Sallah (John Rhys-Davies) to Indiana Jones, upon opening the Well of Souls, ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’, Lucasfilm, 1981.
 Well of Souls, ‘Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark’, Lucasfilm, 1981
I  t is our inimitable frisson of complexity—all writhing and beauteous complexity down here.”
  —  Snakes’ reply, to Sallah and Indiana, from the bottom of Well of Souls, ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’, Lucasfilm, 1981.