unbridled simplicity

Took a very long train ride a couple days ago. It ended up being 9.5 hours on the train instead of 6.5. A crane had fallen across the tracks outside Chicago.

Finding things to do on long trips is always a pain. At least on Amtrak, there are outlets. Electrical ones, I mean, not just outlets to relieve tedium. Two things happened on this trip that reminded me of the wonders of simplicity.

First was meeting a man named Chris. He was now retired, taking a train trip to visit his kids in California. He was meeting some in Albuquerque and camping in New Mexico before heading to SoCal and camping there. We discussed many things- he was one of those types that had a million jobs: a part-time luthier in NYC living with 2 flamenco guitarists and another luthier; a youth counselor heading several small town organizations outside San Fran; making posters and doing advertising for theaters. We talked about throwing TVs off buildings, lighting pianos on fire, and coming up with a class called "Music and Pyrotechnics."

We sat staring at the still scenery in the observation car having this conversation. I had a beer, he had what i assumed was a jack and coke, since it was in a glass and no can in sight. They called his dinner reservation, and he thanked me for the conversation. Chris said he felt reinvigorated- he was retired, but still spry and wily, and needed something to pass the time. He was thinking of going back to some of his old posters, ideas from the 60s for bands like the Santana Blues Band (before it was just Santana) and sprucing them up, making them animated gifs or short films. Chris thanked me for being creative, and passing that spirit onto someone that needed reminded of how you can turn anything into art, be creative with anything, even a train sitting still thanks to a fallen crane.

It made me appreciate a simple conversation with a stranger, an activity I often avoid.

The second experience happened later, sitting in my seat as the sun started to set. I was tired of reading- had already gone through 200 pages or so that day in a novel by C.J. Cherryh. Good trilogy, but after reading 700 pages in the last 4 days, i was shot.

So i turned on compy and flipped to the scores I had loaded on my computer. Ligeti String Quartet 2, Ferneyhough String Quartets 2, 3, and 4. I decided to start with the Ligeti- might as well go in chronological order.

It starts with a grand pause. I've always disliked pieces starting with grand pauses. From there, i started taking it apart. Pitch, rhythm, timbre/orchestration, energy. What i found all at once surprised me and didn't surprise me.

Ligeti SQ 2, Mvt 1- Allegro Nervoso. Man, does Ligeti nail nervous. and it's simple, dastardly simple. Ligeti moves from a range of a major second to a perfect fifth, each part moves from playing one note to playing three or four. the rhythm speeds up, the dynamic ebbs and flows, but never above quiet.

The energy sits, there, but not there. You feel a pull, like toward the center of a turn, but something moves opposite. The only comparison i came up with is centrifugal force, in one way reactive, and in another false. There is motion, a sort of swirling type, moving thanks to the tremolo always applied and the speeding of rhythm and expansion of pitch. Then, suddenly, after only a minute or so of music, it bursts out, hitting a moment where all 12 equal tempered pitches are present (13 notes in vln 1, 11 in vln2...the missing note from vln 2 played twice in vln 1. no coincidence, too contrived). It's the water flying from the bucket...only to be caught by the next nervous energy moment.

Back and forth, building energy that goes nowhere, suddenly releasing it. Tension, release, but not release into a nice major chord, but a bursting forth f the built up energy.

It's simple, really. 3 pitches, to 5, to 12, and shrink it back down to the 3. Pitch contour is static, then back and forth in a small area, then large sweeps. Rhythm starts slow, speeds up, burst forth. register and spectral content change from harmonics, high, whispy, sine wave like to mid register, full tone, strong. and then all back again.

So simple, so straight forward...so wonderfully executed.

Simplicity- a straight forward idea executed perfectly.

Simplicity- a talk with a stranger that is invigorating.

Not a bad trip, considering the long delay.

and then it turned into the Shroud of Turin

Ok, so before Advanced Analysis today, i was talking to a compatriot about the analysis homework. We are analyzing a Schoenberg String Quartet, going through, finding the different row forms and their meanings. Our professor had asked the class to look at a few measures, identify what forms of the row were used and why Schoenberg chose them. we were told it was "something really really cool...at least to Schoenberg at the time."

So, i compared them, found some dyad pairs that were in two measures, but the third measure was completely different, so it threw me off...then the next couple seemed to have a couple dyads in common with the first two, and some flipping in order of specific pitches, but, i just wasn't seeing much.

My friend and i were discussing this as we were walking over (after drinking coffee) and we figured the professor would lay some crazy stuff down. Our professor, honestly, is quite amazing. he really tries to find out the why's of music, not just "Oh, and here are the row forms used and when." That's what theory is all about, yes, but so often, i've never gotten to that point in the class. it's about learning the pedantic issues; identifying the row, filling out a matrix, in set theory-getting everything in prime form, identifying trichords and such...My current theory professor says "well, yeah, you need to know how to do that, but, what's the point if you can't see the relationships the composer is creating? It's not about what form of the row, but WHY is that form of the row necessary at that specific moment."

So, my friend and i were walking and basically decided that, somehow, our professor would take the row, transpose it (probably a tritone), then take the retrograde, tear it into little bits, pee on it, put it in a magic hat, say three words, and "POOF" its the Shroud of Turin.

and, ya know, we were far off...

Our Professor took the forms. we pointed out a couple pairs of matching dyads, then he pointed out "they are ALL matching pairs." Shows how much space really messes with your thinking...we noticed the pairs close together, and the pairs that started and ended, but not the ones in the middle. boo to me for not being observant. shoulda started the analysis before 11pm last night. n'ah, i still wouldn't have seen it...

Then Professor posits a rule of transposition for the row- that if you transpose it 6 away, you'll get the dyads, and if you invert it and move it + or - 3 away, you get the dyads, thereby creating 4 form clusters.

THEN he goes on to show us how the measure with the form that didn't fit (which i knew didn't fit but didn't know why) fits in with these measures over here, but instead of doing dyads in order (1-2, 3-4, 5-6) he was stacking dyads vertically between the two forms...

thus, our professor more or less did take the form, transpose it, invert it, tear it into little bits...and made the Shroud of Turin...or at least a pretty damn clear picture of how Schoenberg put together this String Quartet and many other pieces...and eluded to the fact that later composers use this quite often...

He also said that doing a 12 tone matrix can confuse us from seeing this relationships. You do the matrix, the distance starts messing with what you see. Put everything close together, right on top of each other. Dissect measure by measure, form by form, and something big will pop out. Schoenberg lays down a classic musical form: Intro-AABAAB AND the intro, which is P0, of course, acts as a "tonic" if you will, and that the A section functions like a Dominant, and B as a secondary Dominant...thus, taking atonal harmonic and melodic ideas but classic tonal structural ideas all at once...

Schoenberg is awesome. and my professor is a much more gifted theorist than i probably ever will be.

and, everyday, as i walk to class, i pass KinderMusik posters, drawings of "what is music" with bright crayons, swirls, and all different shapes...and somehow, that means a lot more to me, and i get it...completely. my professor is bridging that gap, for me, of what i hear and what is on the page. it's not just random rows without meaning, it's a lot more...but it's still not bright crayons drawing self-meaningful shapes yet...that's the theory i'm looking for...and it may be just drawing brightly coloured shapes in crayon...