jwilzewske: long-tail

Showing posts with label long-tail. Show all posts

Sunday, August 5, 2007

‘Nonclassical’ Record Label: Gabriel Prokofiev and Elysian Quartet

CMT: Founded by composer Gabriel Prokofiev (grandson of Sergei Prokofiev) in 2004, Nonclassical is an ‘alternative’ classical record label. Its business premise is that releasing music that is both classical and ‘non-classical’ will be financially viable, able to attract enough yoof to make it sustainable and profitable.

DSM: If it’s to succeed in being sustainable and profitable, then won’t it inherently have to demolish the conventional notion of what classical music is?

CMT: Well, yes. Despite the growth in the volume of classical CD sales and the popularity of classical MP3 sales, the necessary ‘critical mass’ will be difficult to come by. Nonclassical aims to take ‘composed’/’classical’ music to more diverse audiences than existing classical labels cater to. They aim to do this by fusing different genres, innovating new ones. Some of Gabriel Prokofiev’s own writing explicitly cultivates ‘re-mixes’ by hip-hop and other artists, to create versions that will appeal to new markets—markets who otherwise would never attend classical performances or buy classical recordings. But it isn’t mass-market stuff by any means.

I ’m always looking for originality and trying to develop whatever genre I’m composing in.”
— Gabriel Prokofiev.

DSM: When he was still in his teens, Gabriel put on gigs at the Blackheath Concert Halls. Then, at Birmingham University he specialized in Electroacoustic Compostion and Ethnomusicology, after which he took his Masters at York University. He did a residency in Seattle at the Bourges International Electroacoustic Music Academy. Gabriel has enjoyed working on his commission from the Elysian Quartet even though string quartet wasn’t his first choice. He says he’s inspired by the Elysian’s creativity and craving for category-busting music.

[30-sec clip, Elysian Quartet, Prokofiev Quartet No.1, Movement 1, 0.4MB MP3]

[30-sec clip, Elysian Quartet, Prokofiev Quartet No.1, Movement 2, 0.4MB MP3]

[30-sec clip, Elysian Quartet, Prokofiev Quartet No.1, Movement 3, 0.4MB MP3]

[30-sec clip, Elysian Quartet, Prokofiev Quartet No.1, Movement 4, 0.4MB MP3]

[30-sec clip, Elysian Quartet, Prokofiev Quartet No.1, Movement 4, Laliq Remix, 0.4MB MP3]

[30-sec clip, Elysian Quartet, Prokofiev Quartet No.1, Movement 4, Schweitzer Remix, 0.4MB MP3]

CMT: These movements exhibit digital time-stretching techniques—‘windowing’ the sound into short segments. Within these segments, Prokofiev can change the timescale of the sound without varying its frequency spectrum or timbre. By changing the timescale of a particular sound he changes our perception of it. Slowing down a phrase, for instance, draws attention to the patterns of inflection as melodies, or, alternately, suppresses our attention to certain patterns. Extreme stretching—where we hear a nearly steady sound, changing almost imperceptibly slowly—makes the passage more like an environmental sound and draws the ear’s attention to the timbre of it. Given an arbitrarily long time to perceive a sound, we can abandon our wholistic perceptual tendencies and revert to more analytical, inquisitive ones—we listen ‘inside’ the sound to its spectral evolution. And we notice ourselves doing this. And notice ourselves noticing. In other words, these compositional and recording production techniques drive a kind of listening—a kind of interiority—that Prokofiev and his collaborators think is valuable and interesting and exciting for us. Cool.

DSM: At the level of musical time beyond rhythm, there is musical structure and form—where repetition and variation take on a different role. It’s here that electroacoustic music seems to offer a very wide range of possibilities. By having an expanded repertoire of timbral and textural resources, electroacoustic music can shape its structures extensively. I like to think of each piece as creating its own form based on the interactions of the different sonic layers.

CMT: In other words, ‘form’ is an emergent or immanent feature, rather than a predetermined shape. If that’s true, then each piece generates its own sense of time, surely different from elapsed wall-clock time. That’s surely true if you listen to the Prokofiev Quartet No. 1—the Elysians alone, and then the various re-mixes. The percussion totally changes the rhythmic sense of the movements. There are hypermeter pulses in the re-mixes that are, I believe, absent in the original ‘quartet-only’ versions.

DSM: When I’m caught up in the temporal experience of a piece, I always underestimate its length and ‘lose track’ of time, whereas when I’m unengaged by a piece, I overestimate its length because of my lack of cognitive and emotional involvement. You have only to think of the different experiences of time—in the work of post-conceptualists David Behrman, Alvin Curran, and Frederic Rzewski or of postmodernists William Bolcom and John Corigliano—to realize how varied temporal experience of music can be. I actually like the Laliq and Schweitzer re-mixes of Prokofiev’s Quartet No. 1.

CMT: You, maybe. But who else? This is just total lunacy, the idea of this being commercially successful! This is missionary work by Prokofiev. Nonclassical.co.uk is a lifestyle company, not a Company! Musical pioneers of whatever genre will always be a fringe element of the market. The ‘classical music must become part of pop culture or become extinct’ meme is the monster that refuses to die. No way does classical music ‘have to’ become relevant to young mass-market audiences. It’s total bullshit. You need to identify your genre and whatever demographics accurately. You need to serve that genre and its natural audience ferociously. Period. If it’s a small market, fine. Accept it.

DSM: But I don’t think Prokofiev has ever said that classical music ‘has to’ become pop. I don’t think he has any delusions at all about the mass-market potential for what he’s writing and producing. I think that the media are spinning this, using the ‘classical music is dying’ meme. It’s the only thing members of the media know—or the only thing their editors will buy anyhow. It’s the media, not Prokofiev. Prokofiev’s not dreaming that this will become the next hip-hop, say.

CMT: Well, then, why would you create an indie label today, when the risks of financial failure are so great? What could’ve compelled Gabriel to do this? What would make anyone do such a thing these days?

DSM: Several possibilities include: (1) Self-publishing your own work, which may not fit into an existing genre or market niche that existing record labels understand and support. In other words, innovating without depending on getting signed by a regular label. Innovating against the odds, when there’s no chance that your product and your aesthetics would be supported by an existing label. Artistic freedom. Control. That’s what Gabriel’s doing. Honest innovation of new stuff, seeking a market that doesn’t exist yet—at least doesn’t yet exist in numbers sufficient for commercial viability. (2) Producing your own product to sell at your ensemble’s performances or, if you’re a composer, to use to pitch your capabilities for film and TV. In other words, light-weight promotion. This is very easy and relatively cheap to do these days with inexpensive studio gear and digital recording and editing software and CD replicating equipment. You need a decent engineer (or a member of your ensemble who has or acquires adequate recording engineering skills), but very doable. And if you do this for others for a fee as an indie label, then you can recover the investment that you made for what was initially motivated by the need for light-weight promotion of your own work.

CMT: And you have (3) using your indie label as a vehicle for discovering and developing new artists who otherwise might not readily find a label willing to produce them. In other words, business development and arts advocacy—this is incidentally a big part of Gabriel’s motivation: an unmet need; filling an unmet need.

DSM: Or (4) using the corporation you create for your label operating company for the tax and legal / liability advantages afforded by incorporating, compared to just operating as a ‘sole proprietor’. Do it as an LLC instead of as an individual.

CMT: Then there’s (5) objecting to the terms and conditions of contracts used by conventional record labels, in terms of financials, digital rights, or other aspects. In other words, intellectual property activism. (6) Angling to develop a new market that you think is large enough to be attractive to an existing large label. Merger & Acquisition exit.

DSM: And, in Gabriel Prokofiev’s case, you might add (7) because you can. He has his grandfather’s name and connections and is therefore a lower-risk proposition. He’s maybe more likely to succeed than others, on account of his famous surname.

W hen you look at market share, collectively the independently distributed labels are a huge segment of the business. After Universal, they’re the second biggest segment. They’re bigger in the U.S. than the next four majors.”
— Michael Ellis, Billboard.

CMT: And you don’t need a Label Manager, an A&R (Artist & Repertoire) Director, Publicity, Marketing, Sales—you don’t need a big headcount to do this. In fact, it’s simply not financially feasible to support a staff of full-time people. If you’ve got the right skillset and a good business head, one person can do it. One or two people, part-time.

DSM: It depends, too, on how many CDs you intend to produce per year, and what your financial objectives are, based on your investment and overhang. The number of person-hours will depend on what the nature of your productions is and what your production volume is each year. Prokofiev’s operation seems to be very nimble and lean. How many people does Newport Classic have? Two?

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Cosmopolitanism and Endangered Species: Geek to Learn, Learn to Geek

DSM: A music theory geek friend of mine noticed our conversation last time and sent me this list. You might be a theory geek if . . .

you whistle in style bris.
your favorite pickup line is, “What’s your favorite augmented sixth chord?”
your second favorite pickup line is, “Would you like to raise my leading tone?”
you have ever played the ‘how-many-episodes-is-too-many-episodes’ fugue game.
you have a poster of Allen Forte in your bedroom.
you know who Allen Forte is.
you dream in four parts.
your biological clock follows a non-retrogradable isorhythm.
you can improvise 16th-century counterpoint with no trouble, but you frequently forget how to tie your shoes.
you look at a piece by Bach and say, “You know, I think he could have gotten a better effect this way . . . ”
you expected something quite different out of The Matrix.
you can answer your phone with a tonal or a real answer.
you like to tease your friends and loved ones with deceptive cadences.
you know how many cents a major 23rd is without having to count.
you say you only drink fifths, and then you laugh at your lame pun anyway.
you feel the need to end Tchaikovsky’s Pathétique Symphony with a picardy third.
your favorite characteristic of Brahms’ music is the subcutaneous motivic play.
instead of counting sheep to get to sleep, you count sequences.
you find free counterpoint too liberal.
Moussorgsky’s “Hopak” gives you nightmares.
you wonder what a Danish sixth would sound like.
you long for the good old days of movable G-clefs.
the Corelli Clash gives you goosebumps, every single time.
you can hear an enharmonic modulation coming a mile away.
you can hear Berg’s lover’s dog coming a mile away.
you have had to be forced to stop labeling motives.
you confuse fishsticks with ground bass.
you have ever quoted Walter Piston.
you like to march to the rhythm of L’histoire du soldat.
your license plate says: PNTONL.
you have ever defended yourself with “But Gesualdo did it!”
you have ever tried to do a Schenkerian analysis on “Three Blind Mice.”
you have ever tried to do a Schenkerian analysis on Cage’s 4'33''.
you have ever thrown a Gebrauchsmusik party.
you have ever tried to hop onto the omnibus.
you like to wake up to a Petrushkated version of “Reveille.”
you lament the decline of serialism.
you know what the ninth overtone of the harmonic series is off the top of your head.
you keep the writings of Boethius on the coffee table.
you have ever dressed up as a counterpoint for Halloween.
you have ever written a musical palindrome and given it a witty title.
you can name ten of Palestrina’s contemporaries.
you have ever found a typographical error in a score by Ives, Nancarrow, or Babbitt.
you have ever heard a wrong note in a performance of a composition by Ives, Nancarrow, or Babbitt.
you already sensed that if this list had been written by Bartok, this would be the funniest item.
you enjoy the tang of a tritone whenever you can.
you’ve let the rule of the octave determine how you go from one event of the day to the next.
you have ever played through your music as if the fingering markings were figured bass symbols.
you suspiciously check all the music you play for dangling sevenths.
you have devised your own tuning method.
you keep a notebook of useful diminutions.
you have composed variations on a theme by Anton Webern.
you know the difference between a Courante and a Corrente.
you have trained your dog to jump through a flaming circle of fifths.
you have ever used the word fortspinnung in polite conversation.
you feel cheated by ‘evaded cadences’.
you organize your phone numbers based on their prime form.
you find it amusing to refer to your ear-training course sections as your “pitch classes.”
every now and again you like to kick back and play a tune in hypophrygian mode.
you wonder why there aren’t more types of seventh chords.
you deeply wish you had twelve fingers.
you like polytonal music because, hey, the more keys the merrier.
you abbreviate your shopping list using figured bass symbols.
you always make sure to invert your counterpoint, just in case.
you have ever concluded a joke with the punchline “Because it was polyphonic!”
you have ever named a pet, boat, car or child ‘Zarlino’.
you have an <0 1 4> tattoo.
your lips may say “perfect fourth,” but in your heart it will always be “diatessaron.”
you have ever said, “Yes, didn’t Scriabin use that sonority in... ”
you know lewd mnemonics for the order of sharps in key signatures.
you can name relatives of the “Grandmother Chord.”
you’re still wondering where is the “must-resolve-the-dominant-seventh-before-going-to-bed” indicator.
you not only can identify any of Bach’s 371 Harmonized Chorales by ear, but you also know what page each one is on in the Riemenschneider edition and how many suspensions it has in its first four bars.

Hah! It takes a geek to know a geek!

CMT: Well, some of our tastes here are pretty esoteric. But no more so than other arcane things people pursue—sport, for example. Having the inner confidence and security to poke fun at ourselves is good—the list is honestly amusing. But the list-joke begs the question, does modern mass-culture inherently ostracize or disenfranchise us—does it reject anything that is ‘other’, anything different from itself? If we are true to our geekiness, are we inevitably disempowered? In other words, is there a need for a new cosmopolitanism and a greater toleration in society these days? Seyla Benhabib has written about this…

DSM: You’re right. There’s no reason to think of xenophobia as scoped only to geographic or ethnic boundaries. ‘Cosmopolitan’ should encompass distributive justice and toleration not just of citizens of various disparate nations, but also of members of classes whose membership is founded on interests or beliefs, which may be trans-national and trans-ethnic. And of course it’s not just conflict between musicologists/theorists and a hegemonic mass-culture. There’s conflict too among music theorists of different stripes. The mistake armchair anthropologists frequently fall into—taking a complicated concept, like music, and reifying it as if it were a single, simple thing. A static, time-invariant thing. But naturally theory evolves over time. And composers’ technique and materials evolve over time. And critics’ and analyst-geeks’ propensities evolve over time, in unpredictable jumps—Richard Selfish-Gene Dawkins-style.

CMT: We could instead put forward theories of compositional intention as if the evolution of composers’ technique were logically analogous to Darwin or Mendel’s wrinkled garden peas. There’s a self-evident truth here that any serious musician recognizes—anyone who has experienced that moment when the execution shifts from working memory to procedural muscle memory. My favorite aspect of playing the piano is reaching the jump where my hindbrain is carrying the piece along. Then I can enjoy the music in a different way, without thinking as much about the technical mechanics of making my body perform the piece, making my fingers navigate the keyboard, and so on. Anybody who has performed music at this level knows also that that is the moment when inspiration can enter—when you can deeply surprise yourself, when new layers of meaning become apparent. On some occasions, I’ve had actually an ‘out-of-body’ experience, as though I were looking down from the ceiling, looking down on myself at the piano. That’s pretty rare. More commonly, though, the loss of a consciousness of ‘self’ is more subtle. The interpretive gestures that’ve been internalized and which unfold almost automatically become during a performance quite foreign, as if they were being executed by someone who is not me—and the separation [of that part of me that’s observing this and applying additional adjustments as the playing proceeds] is complete. I wonder whether, in the theater, actors who are in-character experience their art in this way…

DSM: The exoticness of that experience is part of what creates social distance: your having experiences that you clearly value but which the mass monoculture doesn’t understand or regards as deviant—defines and reinforces your otherness. This seems to me to be a feature of globalization—or at least the harms to individual communicative freedom and [full] citizenship and justice are made worse by globalization trends. According to Benhabib, the homogenization, standardization, mass-ification, and so on—are not inadvertent consequences of globalization. They are fundamental preconditions for the possibility of the kind of interaction and interconnectivity that make globalization a reality. The obverse is also true. Heterogenization, hybridization, carnivalization, and mestizaje are also not unintended consequences of globalization—they breed novelty and long-tail niches, and support increasing amounts of novelty, exotics, differénce, and authenticity. Benhabib says that cultures are inherently and continually contested and unstable. They are always in the process of transforming and being transformed. Cultures and specific subcultures (like classical music, or chamber music, or music theory, or sub-subcultures of these) survive or perish in a sort of Darwinian natural selection. Culture is the horizon within which each of us social agents is socialized and individualized.

“... it is only the presumption of each individual’s equal claim to develop the conditions of his or her self-hood within certain webs of interlocution that gives the politics of recognition its normative bite. Claims to authenticity presuppose claims to justice—or the pursuit of differences presupposes a framework sustained by premises of individual equality.”
— Seyla Benhabib, Claims of Culture, p. 57.

CMT: And Wellmer is (along with Klaus Günther) one of the philosophers in the Frankfurt School critical theory tradition who has sought to translate discourse ethics’ reformulation of human freedom into communicative freedom.

“Solidarity in a post-conventional sense demands that we want a space for everybody else’s negative freedom, a space which is the precondition for determining and taking responsibility for one’s own life, and which, by the same token, is a space for the freedom to say ‘no’ and to act accordingly. Only on the basis of such freedom are symmetrical forms of mutual recognition, voluntary agreements, and rational concensus among equals conceivable.”
— Albrecht Wellmer, Endgames, p.33.

“VI.[14] Mihi vero licet et semper licebit dignitatem tueri, mortem contemnere. Potestas modo veniendi in hunc locum sit: dicendi periculum non recuso.

[15] Quae, malum, est ista voluntaria servitus? Fuerit quaedam necessaria; neque ego hoc ab omnibus eis desidero qui sententiam consulari loco dicunt. Alia causa est eorum quorum silentio ignosco; alia eorum, quorum vocem requiro. quos quidem doleo in suspicionem populo Romano venire non metu, quod ipsum esset turpe, sed alium alia de causa deesse dignitati suae.”

(VI.[14] It is in my power, and it always will be in my power, to uphold my own dignity and to despise death. Let me have only the power to come into this house, and I will never shrink from the danger or declaring my opinion!

[15] What, in the name of all that is horrible, is the meaning of this voluntary slavery? Some submission may have been unavoidable: nor do I require this from every one of the men who deliver their opinions from the consular bench; the case of those men whose silence I pardon is different from that of those whose expression of their sentiments I require; and I do grieve that those men have fallen under the suspicion of the Roman people, not only as being afraid--which of itself would be shameful enough--but as having different private causes for being wanting to their proper dignity.)
— Cicero. Fourteen Orations against Marcus Antonius (Philippics 1), 44 BCE.