https://reosonicual.myblog.arts.ac.uk/
Link to sound piece:
The World Doesn’t Dance But I Do is a piece created with the intention of “abstractifying” the dancefloor. There’s often discourse around whether sound pieces created under the term “sound art” should be classified as either DIY or Avante Garde, making sound art sound to be something inaccessible to the mainstream. The piece I have created has taken a tumultuous journey, being deconstructed, reconstructed, reaching to be a sound that can be enjoyed by the mainstream and the art worlds alike. Created by first constructing its basic structure and “musical” elements in Logic, then being run through the SP 404, I believe this piece has achieved its goal, the journey behind being explored below.
With a lack of access to resources needed to create a sound piece (a laptop, a DAW, microphones), much of my time leading up to its creation was spent pondering on inspiration. As a jungle / drum and bass DJ, I was becoming increasingly pulled towards the sounds of Source Direct. In their music, the basses used act as a driving force, with the harmony being left as an afterthought, if included at all. The basses used are often accompanied by higher pitch synth sounds, not usually constructing entire melodies, but as more of a decoration to the main elements: the drums and the bass. I had also become less interested in the use of sampling, and became more drawn to the use of musique concrete, or authentically composing elements. I decided to experiment- I was to make a drum and bass track composed entirely of concrete sounds, no synthesisers, no samples.
However, once finally acquiring a studio space and the resources needed to compose, my entire idea was flipped on its head. The first problem was that the concrete sounds I had recorded didn’t fit authentically with what I was trying to create; the percussion sounds recorded from park benches and punching bags didn’t have the richness that traditional drum samples provide. With this being said, I wanted to ensure that I stuck to my rule of no sampling from pre-existing material. To my luck, there was a drum kit in the room. I recorded kick drum, snare, hi-hats and cymbal sounds using a dynamic microphone. Each part was recorded individually. The second reason why my initial idea was ruled out was because once I entered the studio, I was sidetracked by the beautiful noises I could create on the hardware synthesisers. I began creating a bassline using the SE-1 X, using it as a driving force for the piece. I then constructed the drum groove around this, then used the AX60 and Juno-106 to add secondary bass parts and tangents of harmonic lines.
Although I am very happy with the outcome of my piece, I believe there were a couple downfalls. Whilst using hardware gives a unique touch, it highlights technical issues. Once the different elements had been run through the SP, many sounds were lost in the mix, most notably the tangents of melodic lines. Usually this wouldn’t be a problem, as I’d just go back into Logic and adjust the levels. However, this was not possible on the SP, as the effects added were recorded in real time. This demonstrates that whilst hardware allows you to create and manipulate sounds in very unique ways, it becomes harder to manipulate individual elements and rectify mistakes. In saying this, I would have loved to utilise the hardware in the room more advantageously, as there were compressors and EQs at the studio. I did not know how to use these, meaning that I had to mix in Logic using software plugins. This meant that the piece wasn’t entirely created without digital manipulation, which may take away from the end goal.
In spite of this, I believe this piece has achieved its goal to “abstractify” the dancefloor- in theory. It is a piece that lacks clarity in terms of structure and musicality, yet is easy on the ear in terms of instrumentation and rhythm. It is fast paced with a rolling percussion line, making it enjoyable to dance to (particularly in the second half). This was an important goal for me to achieve, as I am someone who creates music that is often out of time and out of key, usually pieces that don’t have musical or rhythmic feel to them, and whilst I am proud of these pieces, I am unable to use them within my sonic practice- DJing. At the moment within dance music scenes, there are discussions surrounding representation, particularly about womens’ representation on the dancefloor. If I am able to play out my sonic creations on the dancefloor, not only will I be opening up club-goers to the world of sound art, but I will also be lessening the ratio of music made by men to women within this context. For the future, I will play this piece in my next set to see if I have achieved my goal in practice.
“Musique Concrète can often be misunderstood as simply referring to music made entirely of naturally occurring sounds, and not containing instrumental and human input” – Marc Henshall.
Initially, this is how I thought of music concrete, it took for me to read Marc Henshall’s Musique Concrète – Pioneering Electronic Music – Part1 to change my perspective. When first playing with the idea of music concrete, Pierre Schaeffer came to a quick realisation that using the sounds just as recorded, his compositions all had a sameness to them. He realised that manipulation was needed in order to create more interesting compositions, which he did by experimenting with the speeds of his recordings. He found, however, that just experimenting with the speed wasn’t enough to create something new; examining sounds on a micro-level, he found he could manipulate the attack and timbre of a sound, amongst other qualities.
It is actually perfect that I had already planned to write up a blog on creative synthesis, as my time spent at the studio sparked a much deeper passion for this topic. As soon as I walked in, I was greeted by an array of synthesisers and samplers, and much to my satisfaction, the Juno-106 happened to be amongst this collection. Instead of beginning my piece recording ordinary objects to use as percussion sounds as previously planned, I began creating sounds with the synthesisers. Emulating my favourite synth sounds from drum and bass and broken beat tracks, I very quickly realised what had been setting back my productions and compositions: not having used hardware. Sure, I understand how to use a subtractive synthesiser in Logic and Protools, but it just didn’t feel fun, and I feel like the sounds I was trying to create and emulate were just too hard to make. Now having touched and used hardware, I liken this experience to my experience of DJ’ing, where I couldn’t even grasp the concept of it until I was introduced to turntables. With this being said, I feel like I am sonically more pulled into the world of analog- and to immerse myself within it, I need to understand it.
There are four main types of synthesis: subtractive, additive, modular, and FM. I am going to explain how the foremost mentioned works, using annotated diagrams. The idea of subtractive synthesis is to filter sound once it is made to add harmonic complexity.
However, the types of synthesis, and whether you’re using software or hardware aren’t the only factors providing a diverse range of sound in the world of synthesis. Within hardware, there is the option to use either analog or digital synthesis. In the article written by Suresh Bist, there is a video included where the man speaking states that whilst unique sounds can be created using hardware synthesis, they may not align with the project tempo when using effects such as modulation- something which I personally experienced. In the same article, Bist says that analog may still be preferable to digital because of its hands on approach. I agree.
When reading an extract of Thomas Porcello’s The Ethics of Digital Audio-Sampling: Engineers’ Discourse, I was immediately drawn into the topic, as sampling is a technique heavily used by myself. Quite quickly, an example of the sampled artist’s work was discovered in this extract- Jan Hammer’s use of David Earl Johnson’s congas in the Miami Vice theme. Johnson argues that compensation be made to him by Hammer, as, if it is him playing, he should have been in the studio being paid for his time and skill. The sample was taken from an earlier recording session of the two, which, particularly by today’s views on sound production, has allowed the later creation of the Miami Vice theme to be completed with less time, budget and labour consumed. It also allows for the producer to have more creative control of the sample, allowing the previously created sound to exist in multiple corners of the spectrum of sound. Personally, I interpreted Johnson’s argument not as a criticism of the reuse of his work, but rather as an addition to the discourse surrounding the ethics of sampling.
For a long while I was making “abstract rap beats”, which entailed taking a sample, usually an obscure jazz or soul tune, and playing around with it until it was almost, if not completely, unrecognisable. I soon realised how easy it could be for anyone to make music with this method, and even sooner realised how lazy and unskilled my productions became as such. Arguments laid out by rap music engineers in the Porcello paper advocate for the use of sampling similar material to that of which I’ve done, however, ensure the sample is still recognisable. The reasoning behind this could partially be to make sure the piece created is still crediting the sampled material. In the style of production I was partaking in, none of the melodic and harmonic sounds were actually being created by me, but instead just heavily manipulated and deformed so as to cover my theft. When clearly leaving the sample exposed, the producer is forced to organically create elements to surround and re-contextualise it. However, the engineers Porcello himself spoke to took a different stance- they viewed this in the same way I viewed my aforementioned method of production.
The engineers Porcello spoke to viewed sampling more-so as a tool to base ideas around, taking something close to the sound you were originally envisioning, then altering it to be what you want and building around that. To align this view with my understanding of production, I thought about how drum breaks are created in drum and bass. One of the most famous breaks, the Apache break, sampled a long percussion break from Incredible Bongo Band’s cover of Jerry Lordan’s Apache. When used within drum and bass music, the break is mixed and run through samplers and plug-ins to give it a distinctive quality that is more suitable to the hard sounds of that genre. But if the aim is to make is sound dissimilar to the sampled material, why not just record what it is you wish to sample yourself, or pay a musician who can? One of the engineers in Porcello’s paper, Glassie, comments on this, “If you could recreate Phil Colins’ drum sound.. in another studio, with identical mics… then if a sound could be recreated, it would be hard to say that you actually own that sound.” Therefore, if there is no telling if you created that sound yourself or not, then it would evidently be preferable for a producer to take the route that is more cost and time efficient; sampling.
However, something in Glassie’s comments resonates with me in conjunction with David Earl Johnson’s argument for compensation over the use of his sample. Johnson brought forth the fact that the specific way in which he played his congas in that moment in that studio is what gives it its distinctive quality. Whilst you can alter the sound of a sample, there is only so far you can stretch it before it starts sounding distorted and unpleasant. Glassie does acknowledge this in his comments, too. This thought inspired me to attempt a production in a way I usually would, but using absolutely no samples, paving way for the creation of the sound piece which I will be submitting as part of Creative Sound Projects Element 2, working entitled Jungle Concrete.
To create this piece, I decided to create a timeframe to complete this project, using my blog entries to guide and inspire me along the way.
(insert image of plan)
Having now booked the studio to finally create this soundpiece, I feel enthusiastic about this project. I am a little scared, as since my laptop broke around 2 months ago I haven’t been able to create anything, and I now feel like I’m lacking in skill. Hopefully the motivation will override any loss of skill. I look forward to reflecting on my time at the studio.
It is often easy to detach oneself from the creation of art and sound, especially once a skill or formula has been mastered by the artist. It is also easy to lose meaning and personal touch within the art when participating in this detachment. And once personal meaning is lost, it becomes hard to maintain that skill used- at least that’s what happened in my own experience. After reading about the “sonic meditations” of Pauline Oliveros, I was heavily inspired by her use of “self care” in all realms of life in order to become more intune with herself. Intrigued by what this did for Oliveros’ use of particularly her voice, I decided to use my own voice as a medium for the piece which I created, which can later be used as a measurement tool to conclude how effective Oliveros’ practice can be.
Using a heavily time stretched excerpt of a field recording taken of a park fencing (recorded with a contact microphone), I emulated my favourite Logic preset, ‘backwards metal’. This set an ominous tone for the piece, creating the perfect bed for my poem:
Cycles
Cycles
Looping up and down, cycles
No learning I keep repeating
Acts I’m self defeating
My skin, with fingernails I’m eating
Out my pores blood is seeping
I’m weeping.
I keep cycling ang cycling and cycling
And cycling until my bike breaks, mid break, spinning breaks, I need a break.
It’s all fake.
The faces, the light, everything in sight.
A made vision constructed of God’s mind-
I’m searching for answers I’ll never find,
Until we die we stay blind.
We’re binded
To non existent beauty we make up of
From man’s crumbs, we don’t clean after ourselves;
We’re too absent minded-
Mistaking self conceit for love
Putting false definitions in the meaning of wealth.
It’s all the loss of the sense of self.
Delicate in its modernity, the incorporation of a rap-like vocal allows for the piece to be accessible to a mainstream audience. I believe this is important, as the themes discovered within the words of the piece will convey feelings and messages that resonate not just with the typical consumer of abstract sound, like of which I have created. The incorporation of the vocal also allows me to express myself authentically, allowing my differing sonic practices to coexist.
Although I thought It’d be a harder challenge to use my voice as the main medium, I actually found it highly enjoyable; it becomes easier to convey ideas within the composition as I understand my own voice more than I do any technology. I would apply this same notion to my use of alto saxophone- I would (controversially) consider it a vocal instrument, as it is controlled with the mouth and breath in the same likeness as the voice.
This piece was created after many attempts of using a graphic score as stimuli- however, that is still a concept I am yet to grasp. Creating this piece has taught me that I am comfortable working and creating acoustically, thus, in future I would like to incorporate more digitally created sounds- using digital and analogue synthesisers, and mastering the use of plugins to create a much more polished piece. Whilst I received feedback on the timing of the piece feeling “insecure”, this was an intentional addition, reflecting my current “sense of self”, as the title would suggest. As this is a piece created as a measurement marker, it needs to feel unsteady. If that makes it hard to listen to, then I’ll have to hope that retreating and working on my inner self will remedy that for the future.
The avant-garde is defined by its its progressiveness and its ability to push boundaries, whilst maintaining attraction from the mainstream. Similarly, the underground is also boundary pushing, but always stays outside or on the border of the mainstream, even in the audiences it draws. This is not to say that the avant-garde aims to draw a mainstream audience, but rather that it does not aim to attract a particular niche or group of people. One way in which you can tell this difference clearly is in aesthetics.
When thinking of performance set up, the avant-garde and the underground can be very similar, with the use of multiple synthesisers and other electronic / analogue equipment that gives both styles its unique sound. This can be seen the image above of modern day avant-garde duo, Hype Williams. However, without the previous knowledge of what the duo would identify as, it would be quite easy to assume this was a photo of an artist that would consider themselves underground.
When looking at the album art, however, it is very uniform and very “clean” looking. It is very plain and simple, almost keeping a sense of ambiguity of what it is, meaning it has not been aimed at a particular underground niche. This idea can be seen clearly when looking at the aesthetics of avant-garde vs underground labels. Another important distinguishing factor of the underground vs the avant-garde are their ranges; the avant-garde aims to be as left-field as possible when it comes to presentation and its formatting of its sounds, with avant-garde label, Leeraum, displaying this beautifully.
The first interesting thing to point out is Leeraum’s usage of a website over a bandcamp page. Perhaps this is to signify the fact that the avant-garde is not just restricted to sound that can be streamed as music.
Looking closely at the term “avant-garde”, “little is known of its etymology […] beyond its donation of […] comparative radicalism” (Graham, 2010). It would be interesting to explore how the avant-garde compares to the underground when thinking of all its definitions. Based on aesthetics, I now have a clear understanding in the differences between the two.
Oftentimes with my friends, we make music. So on Saturday evening when my friends were over, I though it would be the perfect time to experiment with a graphic score I had created:
How the piece would be played is pretty self explanatory; only the notes Db, Eb, Gb, Ab and Bb could be used, it was made to be played by three people, and needed percussion. The rest of the pi chart was created with my friends, and was more just an illustration of the feel of the piece we were creating. Although this gave us pointers as to what to play, I feel as though this is something that could have been easily discussed beforehand. We Improvised on the MIDI keyboard using Logic stock instruments.
I believe that, had we used acoustic instruments and recorded live, we would have thought about the score a bit more instead of just “going with the flow”. I am going to use this base of improvised music based on the graphic score to start my piece, however, will use other techniques discussed using seminars to complete it.
When thinking of “deep listening” and “listening for intent”, one may straight away assume this would be to listen to a piece of sound and analyse the different noises that can be heard, or to follow the musical direction of the artist whom created it. This is not untrue- deep listening requires full focus and attention, but not only on the sound, but also your body. Based on the learnings of Pauline Oliveros, deep listening is a healing practice; a tuning of the mind and body.
Having written about Oliveros in a previous blog post, I am going to forego the background context of who she is and focus solely on the information given in the article, and how this relates to my current thoughts around the voice, sonic meditations and what that means for sound art today. In the late 1960s, following an unsettled political and social state of the US, Oliveros began to retreat. She backed away from public performance and spent time in solitude playing long, extended notes on her accordion, spending “nearly a year on a single note”. This “experiment in self care” led to Oliveros’ newfound meaning within sound, leading her to publish her Sonic Meditations in 1977.
My initial tangent goes off this notion of “experiments in self care”; how are we to define and differentiate this from “normal” music making, which is a process of experimentation in itself? Based on what I gather from Oliveros’ experience, its about the intention of why you’re creating sound, and the activities you do surrounding these “experiments”. During this time when Oliveros was retreating, she began studying Tai Chi- a Chinese martial art with meditational properties. Oliveros worked on transforming her whole life, taking steps to heal the mind and body which ultimately impacted the sound which she created. Collaborating with her Tai Chi teaher, Al Huang, Oliveros assembled a small group of sound makers to improvise to Al Huang’s work. Oliveros always sought to connect each of her practices together. This can be seen again in her studies of Kinetic Awareness with dancer and bodyworker, Elaine Summers. Elaine Summers taught her students to become sensitive to signals coming from their bodies, leading them to be more in tune with themselves. From this and the outcome of Oliveros’ work afterwards, one can conclude that being in tune with your mind and body leads to realisations within your sonic, or any other creative, practice which improve the quality and substance of your work.
When listening to Cathy Berberian’s Stripsody a few years ago during a college class, I recall looking into my classmates’ eyes trying our hardest to repress our laughter. It felt like a joke, being made to listen to this shrieking a week before our theory exam. Reading the score was another story- I didn’t understand how it could be read or for what reason it had been created.
Having been studying sound art, I realised what this was, was a graphic score. Graphic scores are a great tool for expressing ideas that cannot be expressed through traditional music notation. They also serve as a physical art form of the sound piece which it was written for, meaning it can be preserved other than in memory. Graphic scores are also a useful tool for improvisation. One of my strongest sound related beliefs is that anyone has the capability to make music, and graphic scores can help to fulfil that belief.
So, when in lecture we were shown Cathy Berberian’s Stripsody in seminar, I thought I’d see it with a different perspective to a few years ago.
I, however, did not.
I had to question myself- what made traditional music notation so much more palatable than graphic scores? After all, they’re not so different; both of them use symbols to convey musical ideas. I pinpointed where my issue with graphic scores lay, and that was that there is no common language to help ground a consensus of what is about to be played. If I were to then view music notation, traditional or graphic scores, as language, it might help me to better understand the benefit of using a graphic score.
“No other natural communication system is like human language” (Ray Jackendoff). The origin of language and how it initially developed is something that is still being pieced together by science. In Ray Jackndeoff’s FAQ, How Did Language Begin?, gives an explanation of how the origins of language would be studied, and what current research there is- exploring ideas around evolution. Jackendoff’s own observation on protolanguage resonated with me; toddlers and those learning a new language find ways to communicate, creating their own common language, much like pidgin languages, which “are learned as second languages in order to facilitate communication”. Humans somehow find commonality in phrases, using expression cues and gestures to identify meaning.
So, how do I apply this new understanding to graphic scores? My foremost thought would be to differentiate the uses of each one, like how pidgin languages are used secondarily, and therefore don’t convey everything possible within human expression. It could then be said that graphic scores aren’t necessarily useful for conveying full and complex musical ideas, but rather for gaining a general consensus of what the sound should be to those playing the score. With this in mind, I am going to challenge myself to create and use a graphic score to initially create my sound piece for this unit. I am going to use George Crumb’s The Magic Circle of Infinity as inspiration, as it still uses traditional music notation. This means that I can start to get comfortable with creating graphic scores by keeping it to my current understanding, then in future I will be able to create more abstract scores.