Monday, July 27, 2009

Blog Index — Organized by Topic (® 2009-Jul)

Below is an index of most of the 2008-09 blogs posted (and is an update to an earlier blog index). I omitted entries that I didn't think would be very interesting or relevant, mostly because they contained composition class business, such as reminders of deadlines, concert congratulations, order of class presentation, etc.

Feel free to browse these — you may find some that give you ideas about composition techniques, or that contain useful things to think about when composing. They are loosely organized by topic.


→ Originality and Art ←
Is Originality a Detriment in Art?
How Important is Originality in Art?
Originality — Does it have Any Role in Art?
→ Kandinsky's Theories on Art ←
Kandinsky's Theories (1)
Kandinsky's Theories (2)
Kandinsky's Theories (3)

→ Random Musings on Composition ←
Express yourself?
Creative Angst... Welcome to the club!
Running into a Brick Wall
Why Atonal Music?
Atonal — Even the Word Sounds Unpleasant!
Atonality = Noise?
Writing a Play; an Analogy to Composition
Keep? Discard?
Notation Software Woes

→ Thematic Growth ←
Thematic Growth (1)
Thematic Growth (2; Simon's Guest Blog)
Thematic Growth (3)
→ Nuts and Bolts; Musical Details, etc. ←
On musical detail (1)
On musical detail (2)
On musical detail (3)
Group Composition Lessons; Pros and Cons
Class Blog and Student Blogs Explained
New Year, New Blogs!
Adding Multiple Ossia Bars in Finale

→ Composition Projects ←
Project 1 - Atonal Theme and Variations
Project 1 - More Details
Project 2: Using Musical Clichés in Creating Art Music
Project 2: Using a musical style or gesture as a point of departure
Project 2: Recontextualizing and atonality
Project 3: Fun With Scales and Modes
Project 4: Composition for Wind Band

→ Newfound Music Festivals ←
Newfound Music Festival 2009 - Thursday Daytime Events
Festival Feedback, Please

→ Composition Issues (9-part series) ←

1. Originality and Quality of Initial Musical Ideas
1.1. The quality of ideas may not matter very much in determining the quality of the complete composition that emerges from them; and
1.2. The degree to which these ideas are original may not matter very much.

2. How do you Develop Compositional Craft?
2.1. Study the music of others.
2.2. Compose as much as you can.
2.3. Invite criticism from others.

3.1. Live with it for a while.
3.2. What's it about?
3.3. Does it change character?
3.4. What is its function within the context of the piece?
3.5. Structural Analysis.
3.6. Harmonic (or Pitch, Scale, etc.) Analysis.




7.1. Less is more, vs. More is more.
7.2. Always leave them wanting more, vs. Give them what they want.
7.3. Don't treat the listener like an idiot, vs. There's a sucker born every minute.
7.4. There can be 'too much of a good thing,' vs. If you have a good idea, then stick with it!
7.5. The George Costanza approach.

8.1. The three models for composers' roles.
8.2. Mastery or Mystery?
8.3. The value of a plan.
8.4. Getting stuck, and possible workarounds.
8.5. Don't obsess!
8.6. Challenges = Opportunities for inspired solutions!

Friday, July 24, 2009

Fun With Scales and Modes

If you have been following my blog entries on tonality (Why Atonal?, Atonality — Even the Word Sounds Unpleasant!, Atonality = Noise?), you will know that I encourage (i.e., require) student composers to explore harmonic/melodic systems that move beyond conventional tonality, where tonality is defined as " the system of musical organization of the common practice period, and of Western-influenced popular music throughout much of the world today" (from Wikipedia). One way to do this would be to experiment with any of the thousands of scales and modes that either already exist or that you can create yourself, hence the title of today's entry.

→ Here is an "octatonic" scale, also known as a "diminished" scale because a diminished seventh chord is formed from every second note. The intervalic pattern consists of alternating half- and whole-steps (or vice-versa):

Here is a short waltz based on this octatonic scale (click on it to enlarge):


Octatonic Scale Waltz:


→ Here is a Hirajoshi scale:

Here is the first phrase of the waltz, this time based on the Hirajoshi scale:


Hirajoshi Scale Waltz:

→ Here is one form of a blues scale:

… and here is the first phrase of the waltz based on that blues scale:


Blues Scale Waltz:


Discussion:
  • We tend to limit ourselves to the use major and minor scales if composing tonal music, but there are thousands of other scale possibilities that have unique nuances and harmonic implications. If you have fun (i.e., experiment) with even a few of them, you may discover that every different scale gives your compositions a slightly (or even radically) different feel.
  • Of these, there are a number of commonly-used alternatives to major and minor scales, such as anhemitonic (which just means "no semitones") pentatonic scales (5-note scales whose pattern can be found by playing only the black notes on a piano, any of which can be the tonic), the blues scale (there are different permutations, but all are derived from the form of the black-note pentatonic scale beginning on Eb, or La-Do-Re-Me-So-La), the Hirajoshi scale (another pentatonic scale, from Japan, but unlike the previous penatonic scale this one has two semitones (which means it is hemitonic): La-Ti-Do-Mi-Fa-La), or the octatonic scale (used in some Russian folk melodies and by some Russian composers such as Stravinsky and Scriabin, as well as by Bartok, and also used in jazz).
  • You can make up your own scales and modes; Messiaen created scales with repeated patterns that he called "Modes of Limited Transposition," such as:

    Tone-Semitone-Semitone-Tone-Semitone-Semitone-Tone-Semitone-Semitone (which he called his third mode):
    or Semitone-Semitone-Minor Third-Semitone-Semitone-Semitone-Minor Third-Semitone (which he called his fourth mode):
  • Messiaen's Modes of Limited Transposition are all based on repeating patterns within equal subdivisions of the octave, but in making up your own modes or scales, you do not need to be limited in this way. You could, for example, create a scale with a repeating pattern that spans a major sixth. After four such pattern repetitions, you would have spanned three octaves and the overall, three-octave, pattern would then repeat. But the pitch patterns in each of the three octaves would be slightly different. Such as this, for example:
  • The following scale is a mirror around the pitch F#, but you could also create a scale with few or no pattern repetitions in it:
  • Another approach, suggested by my friend and former colleague Dr. Scott Godin, is to construct a few (2-3) atonal chords that you wish to use as the basis for a composition, then construct a scale containing all or most of those notes. You can then use that scale to create additional harmonies if you wish.
  • Once you choose or create some scales with which you want to work (play), you could make charts of the triads and "seventh" chords formed on each scale degree. However, you need not build these chords in the same way as is done with major and minor scales (in thirds); you could form chords based on unusual patterns, such as chord I comprising the 1st, 2nd, 4th, and 5th scale degrees; chord II comprising the 2nd, 3rd, 5th, and 6th scale degrees, etc. Remember that there are no rules here, so you can form chords in whatever way you like.
  • All of these approaches create harmonic and melodic sound worlds that are distinct from major/minor tonality, but which can yield some fresh and attractive results.
  • Consider this: "Tonality" refers to far more than mere scales and the chords formed from those scales; it mostly refers to the relationships between the notes and chords in the scales. When using alternative scales and modes, you may notice some relationships between notes and chords that seem "natural" to you, and you are of course free to use them, but bear in mind that often what seems "natural" in these scales and modes are the aspects that are most closely tied to tonality, such as dominant-tonic relationships or leading tones. It can be fruitful to explore note and chord relationships that are not similar to the more familiar aspects of tonality.
  • Incidentally, the objective, when using something like a blues or Hirajoshi scale, is not necessarily to create blues music or Japanese music (although it obviously can be if you wish); it is to write compositions that may sound to the listener as though they are related the kinds of music from which the scales originated, but with your own unique spin on them. For example, my blues-scale waltz fragment above does not sound particularly bluesy, because the F#-F-F#-G in the 3rd bar is not characteristic of blues music. More bluesy in that bar would have been F-Eb-F-G, or even Gb-F-Eb-G, because the F#/Gb in that scale is usually treated as an inflection of F or G.
  • And finally, don't forget that the concepts of "non-harmonic tones" and "modulation" can be borrowed from tonality and applied to any music you compose using these alternative scales.
  • Have fun!

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Mu3100 Project 1 (Atonal Theme + Variations)

Project Description: WRITE THREE VARIATIONS ON AN ATONAL CHORD PROGRESSION FOR PIANO AND ONE OTHER PERFORMER (solo instrument or percussion).

Begin by creating an original harmonic structure on which the variations will be based. Follow the guidelines below. Be able to play this in class.
  1. Write a progression of 12 to 16 chords of your own invention for piano, using only whole notes and solid (non-broken) chords.

  2. No octave doublings.

  3. None of the chords should sound like an obvious sonority in functional harmony. Read these blogs to understand why:

  4. Any chord that sounds like it might have some distant relationship to tonal music (like Vb9 with an added 13th in an unusual inversion) should not function as it would in tonal music (i.e. the chord above should not “resolve” to anything resembling a I or vi chord).

  5. The chords should sound connected in some sense; avoid giving the impression of a random series of unrelated sonorities. On the other hand, the sense of connection need not be obvious.

  6. There should be a gradual increase in harmonic tension to a specific point, roughly 61.8% of the way through the progression(!), followed by a corresponding decrease in tension to the end. This proportion (61.8 : 31.2, which is the same as 1.618 : 1.0 or 1.0 : 0.618) is called the golden mean, or golden ratio, or phi, and is related to the Fibonaci Series (click links to read more about these).

  7. No chords can be re-used, although they may be re-voiced. Note that the same collection of notes can have greater or lesser tension depending on the voicing.

  8. Vary the number of notes in each chord to suit the desired tension level; avoid using four-voice chorale-style texture exclusively.

  9. Explore the possibility of using different registers on the piano, either simultaneously in the same chord (hands widely spaced apart), or as a means of contrast from one sonority to the next, or as a means of contrast for subsequent variations.

  10. Use a very slow tempo, in order to allow the listener’s ears to take in the uniqueness of each sonority before moving on to the next one.

  11. Do not introduce dynamics yet; the increase in tension should be principally effected through harmonic means, not through dynamic control. Perform your chord progression without dynamic inflections.

  12. Your primary composition tools should be your ears and instincts; when comparing chords x and y, which one feels like it has greater tension? However, if you study each chord you write to determine its intervallic content (do a Best Normal Order analysis and a Vector analysis, if you like), this information may be used when constructing new chords, or when altering existing chords for future variations. Each chord should sound “right” to your ears. Atonal music does not have to sound unpleasant, but almost all music is based on principles of tension and resolution, and your challenge is to do this within an atonal idiom.
→ When you play your chord progression for the class, we will each assign a "perceived tension level" score to each chord, notated on a sheet of paper, where 0 = no tension, and 10 = highest possible tension. This will be followed by a short discussion in which class members will be asked to identify the chords of greatest and least tension, and discuss any general trends with regards to tension in the chord progression (for example, you may find that the tension level increased substantially from chords 1 to 4, then took a dip for chord 5, then stayed the same for chord 6, then spiked (increased substantially) in chord 7, etc.).


  • Week 1 will be spent creating the chord progression.
  • Week 2 will be spent fine tuning it (based on feedback received in class), introducing rhythmic values to each chord (not all whole notes; try to create a sense of “timelessness” or unpredictability through notated rubato), considering the possibility of repeating a chord for rhythmic purposes or of re-using a chord, adding dynamics and articulations, marking in phrasing, and creating a melody.
  • Weeks 3, and 4, will be spent creating a new variation each week.
  • Week 5 will be spent creating the final copy of the score to be handed in, as well as a recording. The recording is normally made during the class recital, date TBA.
  • Note that the work you do each week does not have to be handed in (until the composition is complete), but it does have to be played in class.
→ Read "Project 1; More Details" when you have completed your chord progression.

→ Curious about what is required in order to create a "well-prepared score"?
Read the following to find out:

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Is Originality a Detriment in Art?

I think originality is an essential element in art, but in my previous entry I suggested that there are many examples of great art in which the degree of originality is arguably not very high, but this does not seem to detract from the value of this art, or its impact on us.

Today I will go a step further and suggest that originality, and the power of art to move us, may exist in a kind of inverse relationship; that is, a groundbreaking, highly original work of art may be less likely to move us than a work that uses techniques and conventions with which we are familiar, albeit in a somewhat original way. Or, put another way, if someone makes up a beautiful poem in Klingon language, most of us are unlikely to be moved by it unless we know Klingon. Which, alas, I do not.

But first an explanation of why this topic interests me.

I [used to] post my music at MacJams.com, a site where anyone can could upload their music for the purposes of getting feedback from others. I liked it a lot; it is was a very welcoming to people who make the effort to be involved, which I suspect is true of all on-line communities. [MacJams ceased to exist around 2015. ]

In addition to written comments, you can could also vote on others’ music (although some artists chose to disable this option for their submissions, preferring to receive comments only and not votes). The voting system goes from 1 to 10 in four categories, one of which is “originality/creativity,” which is explained as follows: “Has this artist created something unique or pushed the musical boundaries?”

The answer to this question is clearly “no” for every piece I have ever heard there, including my own music, if one understands “unique” to mean "highly unusual or rare," "the single one of its kind," or "radically distinctive and without equal" (definitions I found at OneLook.com). Fear not, gentle reader; I do did not therefore go around MacJams giving scores of “1” in this category. I do did what I suspect most voters do did; I give gave high scores to music that doesn’t didn't sound too much like a blatant rip-off of something else, and medium scores to music that does did. Being Canadian, my genetics prevent prevented me from giving low scores.

In any event, the existence of this voting category at MacJams got me thinking about the meaning of “originality/creativity” (which I see as two separate categories, by the way, but that is a discussion for another day) and the importance of originality in the evaluation or creation of art.

Other reasons that this topic interests me are that (a) I am a composer, and it’s an issue that is on my mind whenever I write music, and (b) I am a composition teacher, and an idea that I try to communicate to students is that being overly concerned with the originality of one's creations may be dangerous, because it can lead to extreme self-censorship, i.e., not continuing any musical ideas because, upon reflection, they are not original enough.

On the other hand, it seems to me that at least some originality is essential if one does not wish to write music that sounds too much like somebody else's. As with so many other things in life, it comes down to a question of balance.

And so, to answer the question posed in today's blog entry, originality, by which I mean the quality of uniqueness, being significantly unlike anything else that exists, can be a detriment in art if one of the goals of the artist is to express something that others can understand. In spite of this, it is an essential aspect of art. Perhaps it can be said that a little goes a long way, but too little goes nowhere at all!

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

How Important is Originality in Art?

I think many people would suggest that originality is an essential ingredient in art. As an example, an excellent copy of the Mona Lisa, virtually indistinguishable from the original, might be valued at a few hundred (or a few thousand) dollars, whereas if the actual Mona Lisa is as close to priceless as is possible for a painting. Two identical works of art; one original and iconic, the other a reproduction, but the first is much more highly-valued than the second by virtue of its originality.

This looks like the Mona Lisa; the actual painting, however, is in the Louvre behind bullet-proof glass.

But there are cases where a lack of originality seems less crucial to the value ascribed to a work of art. Many artists have created numerous variants of the same, or similar, things — consider Monet's approximately 250 paintings of water lilies (as well as his series of paintings of Poplars, Haystacks, Rouen Cathedral, Mornings on the Seine, and the London Houses of Parliament), Degas' extraordinary penchant for dancers as a subject (more than half of his vast output of paintings, drawings, and sculptures is devoted to the activities of the ballet dancers and dance students), or Georgia O'Keefe's paintings of flowers — all highly regarded, but, thematically, not particularly original.


Two of the 19 paintings from Monet's "The Houses of Parliament" series. All are the same size, and from the same perspective, but show changes in lighting and hue at different times of day, and in different weather conditions.

If you enjoy visiting art museums, there is a reasonable chance you may have seen Rodin's "The Thinker," his most famous work, and one of the most-recognized (and most-satirized) sculptures ever. The original was 27.5 inches high, but there are over 20 additional casts of the work in various sizes, most of which were executed by his apprentices, as I understand it. Their lack of originality does not prevent them from being prominently displayed (and hence valued) in museums around the world.

"The Thinker," Rodin. At least 20 casts were made of this sculpture.

The paintings in Monet’s Houses of Parliament series are similar – each is of the same subject, viewed from the same vantage point, and on the same size canvas -- and dissimilar – each view represents a different time of day (which alters the lighting), and different atmospheric conditions (hazy, foggy (or smoggy), and different cloud formations). The point, as it relates to originality, is that Monet did not attempt to paint a series of completely different (and therefore highly original) paintings; he wanted to paint the same thing repeatedly in slightly different ways, and we value each individual painting highly nonetheless.

These examples, and many others, suggest that the role of originality in evaluating art may sometimes be relatively minor.

Stravinsky is supposed to have said “good composers borrow, great composers steal,” [ 1 ] which is itself an adaptation (or theft?!) of T. S. Elliott’s “Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal,” from Elliott's essay on English dramatist Phillip Massinger (1920). It is a clever line, the merits of which are of course debatable, but for me the point is that artists frequently influence one another; part of the way many artists discover their own voices is by emulating, or appropriating, to varying degrees, aspects of the work of others.

Music is filled with elements common to different composers within an historical period, and sometimes across periods. When we study tonal harmony, we learn that in the "common-practice period" (roughly 1700-1900, in Europe), there were guidelines governing the way in which chords progressed. These guidelines have numerous restrictions as well as some freedoms, but the fact that there are guidelines of any sort means that originality in chord progressions was not highly valued.

Composers in the "common-practice" period made widespread use of a limited selection of musical forms, chief among them sonata form, as well as rondo, binary, ternary, and theme and variations. When we study sonata form, we marvel at the many nuanced differences we find in different compositions, even though the big picture form is the same. Other common elements include the use of Alberti bass accompaniment figures (although it had numerous variants), an extremely-limited selection of cadence types (virtually every composition from that period ended with an 'authentic' (V-I) cadence), common phrase lengths (especially 4-bar phrases) and phrase-structures (although numerous exceptions can be found), and writing for commonly-found ensembles such as the string quartet.

And yet, despite the restrictive nature of these common elements, thousands of wonderful works were written. There is originality to be found in all great (or even good!) works to be sure, but, as with Monet’s parliament paintings, the differences are often fairly nuanced.


1 Although there are numerous attributions of this quote to Stravinsky all over the web, I have not come across any that cite a source for it. It seems entirely possible that he said this, but I would like to find out if he actually said or wrote this… If anyone has a citation for this quote, please let me know. Of course, it might also be a sentiment that hacks the world over like to attribute to a famous composer in order to justify theft of intellectual property.↩