2019

Composing for synthesisers in a Western Art Music setting

AN EXEGESIS SUBMITTED FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF MUSICAL ARTS AT THE UNIVERSITY OF OTAGO, DUNEDIN, NEW ZEALAND ALEX CAMPBELL-HUNT ABSTRACT

This Doctor of Musical arts in Composition has a focus on the use of synthesisers in the context of art music. It comprises a portfolio of compositions that use a synthesiser or synthesisers, usually alongside acoustic instruments, in an art music setting. While synthesisers have been used in this way by other composers, they are still not as widely used in art music as they are in popular styles of music. Although the boundaries between art and popular music are becoming increasingly blurred there is still a distinct performing tradition and canon of work that is associated with art music. As a composer I situate my work within this tradition and incorporate the synthesiser as part of my sound-world. The choice of synthesiser as a focus was informed by early memories of listening to various kinds of music from the 1980s. As a result, most of the pieces have nostalgic themes, as well as “hybrid” styles that combine art music with other types of music. Aspects of composing for synthesiser and associated themes that emerge are explored in the exegesis, which both provides context for the creative projects and reflects on them. The research questions posed at the start of the DMA were: 1. What have been the various roles of the synthesiser in art music? 2. How are the various roles of the synthesiser present in my own compositions? 3. Are there new roles for the synthesiser in my compositions? While composing the pieces in this DMA a number of roles for the synthesiser emerged, some planned and others unplanned. These roles include evoking other styles of music, and exploring themes such as nature vs technology, nostalgia, and the cosmos. It is my aim that this combination of roles and themes help to create unique and interesting compositions.

i ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Enormous thanks to Anthony Ritchie and Peter Adams for being terrific supervisors, and for all of their encouragement during my undergraduate years. Thank you to Jeremy Mayall for generously sharing his knowledge and expertise in this area. Thank you to Stephen Stedman and Danny Buchanan for their technical assistance, to Rose Osborne and Nick Cornish for the great work they put in on the performances, and to the music librarians Thelma Fisher, Rhys Thorne and Alexander Ritchie for their help. Thank you to my good friends Dylan Shield, Gretel Newman-Sugrue, Feby Idrus and Gabby Golding for all of the company and good times while I was doing the DMA. Thank you to my family: Sarah, Charlie, Iain, Katherine, Maggie, Dad and Mum.

ii CONTENTS Abstract ...... i Acknowledgements ...... ii Table of Figures ...... iv CHAPTER 1 1.1 Introduction ...... 1 1.2 Research Questions ...... 1 1.3 Outline of DMA Structure . . . . . 2 1.4 Overview of Compositional Method . . . . 3 1.5 Overview of Exegesis Method . . . . . 5 1.6 Literature Review ...... 5 CHAPTER 2 2.1 Historical Overview ...... 8 2.2 Case Studies ...... 11 CHAPTER 3 3.1 Background and influences . . . . . 19 3.2 Components of my compositional style within the DMA portfolio 20 3.4 Themes in my DMA portfolio . . . . . 22 CHAPTER 4 4.1 Collingwood 2080 ...... 26 4.2 The Front Line 1970 ...... 32 4.3 Games Suite ...... 39 4.4 CubeMarsh ...... 51 4.5 Serialogue ...... 58 4.6 Voyager Concerto ...... 64 4.7 1986 ...... 80 CHAPTER 5 – CONCLUSION ...... 85

BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 88

APPENDICES ...... 94

iii TABLE OF FIGURES (arranged by piece)

Collingwood 2080

Fig. 1 Main theme Fig. 2 Variation of main theme Fig. 3 Repeated rhythmic pattern in bass

The Front Line 1970

Fig. 4 Main twelve-note sequence Fig. 5 Main twelve-note sequence with the first set of added harmonisations Fig. 6 First chord sequence Fig. 7 Second chord sequence Fig. 8 Closing theme

Games Suite

‘Intro’ Fig. 9 ‘Atari’ motif Fig. 10 Additional note-sets that each start with a note of the ‘Atari’ motif Fig. 11 ‘Shifted’ versions of the note-sets Fig. 12 Further note-sets that appear in the piece ‘Vanguard’ Fig. 13 Freely composed theme Fig. 14 ‘Vanguard’ theme ‘Private Eye’ Fig. 15 Chord progressions shown on a stave Fig. 16 Later variations of progression 1 Fig. 17 Later variations of progression 2 ‘Joust’ Fig. 18 The ‘Joust’ note-set and patterns

iv Fig. 19 Score extract showing bb.65-71

CubeMarsh

Fig. 20 Main pitch content of section A Fig. 21 First theme of section C Fig. 22 Second theme of section C Fig. 23 Rhythm generated from number set Fig. 24 Main theme in section B, with rhythms randomly generated Fig. 25 Variation of theme with each interval expanded by a semitone

Serialogue

Fig. 26 All 12-tone rows used in the piece Fig. 27 Score excerpt showing bars 78-101, and select chords in isolation

Voyager Concerto

‘The Void’ Fig. 28 Opening chord sequence Fig. 29 First repeat of chord sequence ‘The Wonder’ Fig. 30 Opening chord progression Fig. 31 First repeat of opening chord progression, with added notes Fig. 32 Arpeggiator pattern taken up by the orchestra ‘Cosmic Dust’ Fig. 33 The three main themes of ‘Cosmic Dust’ Fig. 34 Hybrid forms of the themes ‘Photons’ Fig. 35 Main theme of ‘Photons’ Fig. 36 Descending patterns of notes in bb.19-26, and the chords they form Fig. 37 Chord sequence formed in bb.19-26

v Fig. 38 Closing variation of main theme ‘Transmission’ Fig. 39 Randomly generated note-sequence that is the basis of the movement Fig. 40 First incarnation of the “signal” theme Fig. 41 Eighth incarnation of the “signal” theme ‘Glass Nebula’ Fig. 42 Passacaglia theme ‘The Void (reprise)’ Fig. 43 Altered version of the chord sequence

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CHAPTER 1: OVERVIEW

1.1 INTRODUCTION

Doctor of Musical arts in Composition: Synthesizers in Art Music

This Doctor of Musical arts in Composition has a focus on the use of synthesisers in the context of art music. Synthesisers are a 20th century invention and have found a more natural place in the popular music world, but an increasing number of classically-trained composers are using the synthesiser as another instrumental resource in their compositions. Although the boundaries between art music and other types of music are becoming increasingly blurred, there is still a distinct performing tradition and canon of work that is associated with art music. As a composer I am interested in situating my work within this tradition whilst incorporating the synthesiser as part of my sound-world.

This project started out by asking the questions outlined in the abstract.

1.2 RESEARCH QUESTIONS

See abstract for questions

Usage of synthesisers in Western art music is comparatively uncommon, compared to the widespread use in games, film and popular music. A common role for the synthesiser when used in Western art music is to provide an ethereal or fantastical background atmosphere. It offers a huge palette of sounds: some emulate standard orchestral instruments, pianos and organs, others are uniquely its own. It is also sometimes treated as another instrument of the ensemble with its own sound but as an equal partner, with no particular distinct role. At other times it is used to emulate or substitute for the sounds of the acoustic instruments. The roles of the synthesiser in my music are more in line with that of film music or electronic music than art

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music; for example, suggesting particular time periods such as the 1970s and 1980s, or for futuristic and science-fiction associations. The synthesiser is also more prominent and soloistic in my DMA portfolio than is typical in Western art music, where it is often used for background effect. It is also used to suggest both technological and natural themes, sometimes in the same piece.

My response to the research questions is encapsulated in the portfolio of compositions, which comprises the following:

1.3 OUTLINE OF DMA STRUCTURE

LIST OF COMPOSITIONS: Collingwood 2080 for flute and synthesisers (7 minutes) The Front Line 1970 for cello and synthesisers (10 minutes) Games Suite for synthesiser, clarinet and bassoon (15 minutes) CubeMarsh for string orchestra and synthesiser (12 minutes) Serialogue for four synthesisers (5 minutes) Voyager Concerto for synthesiser and orchestra (23 minutes) 1986 for synthesiser and orchestra (10 minutes) (Approximate total duration: 82 minutes)

The recordings of each piece can be accessed via USB drive.

My creative practice has included an exploration of different aspects of the synthesiser, and how the sounds relate to orchestral instruments and voices. It has also included an exploration of extra-musical themes that will be outlined in more detail in the exegesis. The method of composition has also been, of necessity, affected by the use of the synthesiser. Below is an overview of the compositional methods in this DMA project.

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1.4 OVERVIEW OF COMPOSITIONAL METHOD

Each of the compositions was composed using both of the computer programs Logic Pro X and Sibelius 7. I have been using Sibelius as my primary tool for composition since I began writing music in high school, but I began composing primarily with Logic when I started the DMA. This was partly because Logic is capable of more realistic playback for the instrumental sounds than Sibelius. More importantly, because I was composing for synthesisers it was necessary to use Logic. The range of synthesiser timbres available is much greater on Logic, and it is also possible to manipulate them to create new patches, as well as using automation so that the parameters of the synthesiser part change throughout a piece. However, while Logic is more suited to creating audio recordings, Sibelius is more well-suited to creating scores, so I used Sibelius to score each piece. Usually, I began writing each piece on Logic and recreated it on Sibelius once it was completed. Occasionally I worked on both programs concurrently. It is possible to convert material directly from Logic to Sibelius but as this process seemed to introduce complications, I would usually score the music “from scratch”, which I also found to be a helpful way to re- familiarise myself with the details of each piece, and was essential for crafting the music for instrumentalists.

I created most of the synthesiser parts using the synthesiser interfaces that come pre-installed with Logic Pro X. The one exception was 1986, where I used the ‘Synclavier V’ plug-in acquired from Arturia for the synthesiser part. For the majority of the other pieces I used an interface called ‘Retrosynth’, which has a distinctive 1970s/1980s analogue1 sound. All of the synthesiser parts for the Voyager Concerto all used this interface, while Collingwood 2080, The Front Line 1970 and CubeMarsh all used it alongside others. I used some preset patches that come with Logic, and also created new ones using the interfaces mentioned. For the Games Suite I used an interface called ‘ES P’, short for ‘Polyphonic Synth’, which is the simplest one

1 ‘Analogue’ can be spelt in two ways, ‘Analogue’ or ‘Analog’; in this exegesis I use the former spelling unless I am referring to the name of a patch or preset where it is spelt the other way.

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available on Logic, so it was suited to the more “basic” unadorned synthesiser sounds associated with early video game music. While I used these patches to compose the music and create the recordings included in the portfolio, they are not intended to be the only patches that the pieces could be performed on, but rather an indication of the general sound: each piece is intended to be performable on different kinds of synthesiser. The one exception is 1986, which is written specifically for a Synclavier.

Regarding pitch, rhythm, timbre and other musical parameters, my method of composing varies from piece to piece; I do not have a fixed approach that I bring to bear on each composition. Sometimes I will use random generation or another note- generating system as a starting point, to create a sequence of notes (or sometimes rhythmic durations) which I will then work with in a more intuitive way. This was the case for the opening and closing movements of the Games Suite, as well as The Front Line 1970 and the ‘Transmission’ movement of the concerto. When this isn’t the case, I will usually begin through intuitive improvisation on the keyboard; this was how I started work on Collingwood 2080 and CubeMarsh. Some pieces began as strong programmatic ideas before I started any work on the music itself: for example, I knew that the Games Suite would be based on 1980s video game music, and that the Concerto would be space travel-themed, before I started work on either piece. With other pieces I have a strong impression of the mood and atmosphere I want to create before I begin, even if there is little or no pre-planned programmatic content: this was the case for Collingwood 2080, The Front Line 1970 and CubeMarsh. For 1986, much of the material arose through experimenting with the different patches on the Synclavier and creating music that suited them. Other times I began with a particular effect that I wanted to use on the synthesiser: for example, in ‘Photons’ from the concerto I wanted the synthesiser part to use a delay effect, which was the starting point for composing the movement. The compositional method for individual pieces will be explored in more depth in chapters 3 and 4.

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1.5 OVERVIEW OF EXEGESIS METHOD

This exegesis is auto-ethnographic in nature, with a focus on self-reflection and self- analysis of the creative work completed. This is a useful approach because of the personal nature of the pieces, which drew inspiration from early memories, locations or unusual combinations of favourite genres. It endeavours to answer the research questions posed at the start, both through the method of practice as research, whereby “the object of study is also the means of investigation”2; and through a brief historical overview of the synthesiser and compositional trends since the 1980s.

This exegesis includes an individual chapter on each of the compositions in the portfolio. Each of the sections on the individual pieces is divided into five sections: ‘Overview’, ‘Formal Structure’, ‘Timbre’, ‘Organisation of Pitch’ and ‘Rhythm’. Some of these categories are given more focus than others in different sections, depending on how much systematic planning went into those particular aspects of the music in the relevant piece. For example, programmatic content (covered in the ‘Overview’ section) was very important in some pieces, such as the Concerto and the Games Suite; but not as important in others. Having outlined the topic, research questions and methods we now turn out attention to the historical background of the synthesiser, relevant literature and five case studies of art music using the synthesiser.

1.6 LITERATURE REVIEW

While undertaking background research I found much literature on the synthesiser in general, especially in popular music styles, and on specific electronic music artists. However, I did not find literature that was devoted primarily to this specific topic, namely the use of synthesisers in Western art music. Books on the history of electronic music in the art music context in general are common; for example, A

2 Suzanne Little, “Practice and Performance as Research in the Arts,” in Dunedin Soundings: Place and Performance, ed. Dan Bendrups and Graeme Downes. (Dunedin: Otago University Press, 2011), 19-28.

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Guide To Electronic Music by Paul Griffiths (1979), Any Sound You Can Imagine: Making Music/Consuming Technology by Paul Theberge (1997), The sound of tomorrow: How electronic music was smuggled into the mainstream by Mark Brend (2012), and The ambient century : from Mahler to trance : the evolution of sound in the electronic age by Mark Prendergast (2000). These texts in particular were useful in setting the context of my project.

There is much literature that covers the history of the synthesiser in general, and these include The synthesizer: A comprehensive guide to understanding, programming, playing, and recording the ultimate electronic music instrument by Mark Vail (2014) and Analog Days: The Invention and Impact of the Moog Synthesiser by Trevor Pinch and Frank Trocco (2002), and Synthesiser Performance and Real-Time Techniques by Jeff Pressing (1992).

Literature on specific electronic music artists was common too, including the article collection ‘The Art of Electronic Music’ (1984), compiled by Tom Darter from articles in Keyboard magazine, which included interviews with artists such as Wendy Carlos, Thomas Dolby and Vangelis. This book also included a chapter on the creation of the soundtrack for Apocalypse Now, which was relevant as that soundtrack had been an inspiration for my piece The Front Line 1970. Other helpful texts were those written by composers that offered first-hand reflections on their work, such as Hallelujah Junction by John Adams (2008) and Writings About Music by Steve Reich (1974). Adams in particular wrote about his early engagement with electronic sound and the synthesiser. A further text in this category that would likely have been useful was The Use of the Buchla Synthesizer in Musical Composition by Morton Subotnik, but I was unable to locate a copy of this text.

Other books on more specific styles of electronic music were also relevant to my research: Wired For Sound: Now That’s What I Call an 80s Music Childhood by Tom Bromley (2012) covered the topic of 1980s nostalgia and the synthesiser’s association with that particular time period, which was relevant to my work. From Pac-Man to Pop Music: Interactive Audio in Games and New Media (2008) talked

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about 1980s video game music, which was another inspiration on the music of my portfolio, as the Games Suite emulates this genre. The books Rocking the Classics by Edward Macan (1997) and Experiencing Progressive Rock by Rob Burns (2018) covered Progressive Rock music, which is relevant as a category of music in which Western art music influences and synthesiser performance were combined.

Among the many general texts on 20th century and contemporary music, Music in the Late 20th Century by Richard Taruskin (2005), particularly chapters 7 through 10 was a good primary source for the history of more recent composition in general, and placing my work in the context of wider trends: the sections on postmodernism and minimalism are especially relevant to my project and compositional approach in general (as discussed in chapter 3, pages 21-22).

I also found a number of scholarly and magazine articles on electronic music and sub-topics, including case studies of particular artists, models and brands of synthesiser, and electronic music facilities. There is also literature about performance techniques, performance approaches and notation techniques associated with the synthesiser, and surrounding philosophies. Most of this material, though interesting, ultimately proved to be beyond the scope of the exegesis, and again I did not find articles dealing primarily with my specific topic.

The following Historical Overview provides a brief account of the evolution of the synthesiser (though is not exhaustive).

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CHAPTER 2: HISTORICAL BACKGROUND

2.1 HISTORICAL OVERVIEW

The synthesiser is a member of the family of instruments known as electronic instruments: instruments whose sound vibrations are generated by electrical energy, as opposed to the kinetic energy required to create the sounds produced by wind, string and percussion instruments. A synthesiser usually incorporates a keyboard, though other kinds of user interface are possible, and in the present day a laptop can be a synthesiser when connected to a midi controller.

The earliest forerunners of electronic instruments date back to the late 19th century. Well-known forerunners to the synthesiser include the theremin, invented in 1920, and the ondes martenot, invented in 1928; the latter was famously used by Messaien in his Turangalila Symphony (1948). A closer relative was the Synket, designed by John Eaton and used in several pieces of his, including Concert Piece for Synket and Symphony Orchestra (1967), Blind Man’s Cry (1968) and Mass (1970); and the 1965 performance of his Songs for RPB at the American Academy in Rome is the first documented instance of a portable synthesiser being used on stage.3 The minimalist composer Terry Riley also wrote several works that used electronic keyboards, including A Rainbow in Curved Air (1969). Following these instruments came the synthesiser, defined as an instrument whose sounds are generated electronically, usually incorporating a traditional keyboard; although more recently, synthesiser patches have been available as software for laptop computers. Early synthesisers in the 1950s were bulky, complicated and expensive, and were only owned by a small number of people; many were the property of academic institutions. At this time, they were used in art music settings by composers such as Stockhausen and Babbitt, usually in pieces that were entirely electronic, rather than in combination with acoustic instruments. Examples include Babbitt’s Philomel

3 Peter Manning, Electronic and Computer Music (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993), 195

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(1963), which was written on an RCA synthesiser; an instrument Babbitt used in all of his electronic works.4

The first widely commercially available compact synthesiser was the Moog, designed by Robert Moog and released into the market in the early 1960s. The first polyphonic synthesiser was later developed by Hugh Le Caine in Canada. A number of other brands followed, and by the 1980s synthesisers were a commonplace household instrument. At this time they became a staple of much popular music, used more in this field than in Western art music, even though it had been the other way around in the earlier days of the instrument.5 Simultaneously, digital synthesisers replaced analogue models as the more widely used instruments, partly because of their usage in the commercial rock and pop industries.6 As a result, the synthesiser has since become associated with the 1980s. In his book Wired For Sound: Now That’s What I Call an 80s Music Childhood, Tom Bromley writes: “Perhaps more than any other decade, the eighties was a musical era defined by its instruments. What has happened, for example, to that large pool of saxophonists whose solos graced every other single going? Then there was the synthesizer: British Rail adverts of the day might have claimed this was ‘the age of the train’, but for a few years in the early eighties this was very much the age of the keyboard.”7

Before the synthesiser became widely used in pop/rock music, a well-known early example of the instrument’s use in a Western art music context was Wendy Carlos’s album Switched On Bach, released in 1968; which featured synthesiser arrangements of Bach’s music. The album achieved widespread popularity and is credited with introducing the synthesiser into the public consciousness.8 Carlos also combined the two styles of music in her film soundtracks, such as A Clockwork Orange (1971) and The Shining (1980), which respectively feature electronic arrangements of Beethoven’s Ode To Joy and the Latin chant Dies Irae. Morton

4 Paul Griffiths, A Guide to Electronic Music (Bath: Pitman Press, 1979), 19. 5 Manning, Electronic and Computer Music, 357-8. 6 Manning, Electronic and Computer Music, 357-8. 7 Tom Bromley, Wired For Sound (London: Simon & Schuster, 2012), 71. 8 Mark Prendergast, The Ambient Century (New York: Bloomsbury, 2000), 70.

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Subotnik’s Silver Apples of the Moon (1967) was another album that used the synthesiser in an art music setting: created using a Buchla synthesiser, which Subotnik himself co-designed, it was the first electronic work to be commissioned by a record company.9 A similar kind of crossover later occurred in the style of music known as Progressive Rock: several prominent prog-rock bands had keyboardists who were classically trained, and brought this art-music influence to bear in their performances. Examples include Keith Emerson of Emerson Lake & Palmer, who arranged ‘Mars’ from Holst’s The Planets for the 1986 album Emerson, Lake and Powell; as well as Rick Wakeman of Yes and Tony Banks of Genesis.10 11

Further artists and groups of the 1970s and 1980s that are known for their use of the synthesiser include Kraftwerk, Tangerine Dream, New Order, Vangelis and Thomas Dolby. In the 1980s another synthesiser-based trend that emerged was New-Age music. In his book The Sound of Tomorrow, Mark Brend describes this genre as “…a shift in electronic music, which for so long had been the music of the unknown, the occult, of anxiety and fear, of UFOs and outer space, of comedy. Now it could also be the music of serenity, of peace, meditative and calm.” The influence of this kind of music can be heard in my own work, as I have always associated the sound of the synthesiser with memories of listening to New-Age music at an early age, in particular the artists Enya and Clannad. These memories were part of what inspired my interest in composing for synthesisers.

More recently, synthesisers are readily available for use in all types of music, though they are still regarded as a “novelty” in the context of art music performance. The following quotation in the book Synthesizer Performance and Real-Time Techniques by Jeff Pressing places this in the context of ensemble music: “Let us look specifically at the ways synthesizers can be used in ensembles. In principle, this is a completely open field, due to the synthesiser’s extreme versatility. In fact, it is hard to

9 Griffiths, A Guide to Electronic Music, 48. 10 Edward Macan, Rocking the Classics (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997), 33, 54. 11 Robert Burns, Experiencing Progressive Rock (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield, 2018), 5.

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think of any ensemble in which synthesizers do not already play some role, be it the pop group, jazz band, folk group, traditional “ethnic” ensemble, gospel choir, Renaissance wind band, chamber ensemble, or symphony orchestra. Of course, in some of these, the synthesiser is still a relative novelty, while in others its use is commonplace. Such differences may remain or fade; it is of course the composers and listeners of today and tomorrow who will decide what its ultimate position shall be.”12 Some examples of ensembles that use a synthesiser or synthesisers that have informed my work include electronica groups such as Kraftwerk. It is worth noting there are a number of contemporary classical ensembles that also use synthesiser such as The Philip Glass Ensemble, Steve Reich and Musicians, The American Modern Ensemble, Ascolta, Relâche, and a number of rock bands, including the progressive rock bands Genesis, Yes and Emerson Lake and Palmer, who are discussed further on page 10.

2.2 CASE STUDIES

This section focuses on five pieces by composers that use a synthesiser or synthesisers. These pieces were written in the 1980s or 1990s, with the one exception of the Jeremy Mayall piece. I chose pieces from this era because it is music of this time period that sparked my interest in using the synthesiser and influenced much of the music in the portfolio. These pieces also represent a variety of stylistic trends from the last 40 years, including minimalism, eclecticism and hybridity. They demonstrate a willingness to engage meaningfully with the synthesiser in a Western art music context. While these works helped inform my use of the synthesiser in my own composition, I aimed for my own use of the synthesiser to develop in its own way, approaching the instrument with “fresh ears”; so, while I was interested in hearing what other composers had done, to some extent I also wanted to keep external influences out of mind during the composing process itself.

12 Jeff Pressing, Synthesizer Performance and Real-Time Techniques (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992), 391.

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ANDRIESSEN - HADEWIJCH (1989)

Louis Andriessen’s Hadewijch is a piece for orchestra with two synthesiser parts. It is part of a larger work called De Materie (“Matter”), the second of four movements, but can also be performed as a standalone work. The synthesisers never play their own distinct parts, but always double the orchestral instruments. They also use the same timbre as the instrument that they are doubling: either the strings or the bass clarinet, juxtaposing a synthesised version of the instrument with the “real thing”. The synthesiser is aurally most noticeable at the beginning and end, when the texture is sparse. It is harder to discern its sound in the middle.

The score includes the instruction “with attack” in the synthesiser part: for example, “strings with attack”, “bass clarinet with attack”. The programme notes do not give further detail: it could apply to the performance or to the attack value in the patch itself.

The role of the synthesiser is to provide an atmospheric and mystical quality, in the beginning & closing sections at least. This fits with the natural & spiritual themes of the piece. The synthesiser part often features 2nds and 4ths in the chords, which add to the mysterious/open sound, similar to my compositional style. Additionally, the synthesiser parts in Hadewijch are reminiscent of 1980s fantasy film soundtracks such as Labyrinth or Flight of the Navigator; in my own work I am drawn to this type of sound-world, as in my piece 1986.

ANDRIESSEN - DANCING ON THE BONES (1997)

Dancing On The Bones also uses 2 synthesiser parts within an orchestra, and again they mostly double the orchestral instruments: piano, bass clarinet, oboe and guitar, and they double the timbre as well as the music. However, this piece uses an

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additional two patches: ‘Church bell’ at the beginning and ‘Celestial bells’ at the end. This is the only time in either piece that the synthesiser is not doubling the acoustic version of the same instrument, although glockenspiel and vibraphone accompany the ‘celestial bells’, and sound similar. The bell patches sound funereal, which reinforces the piece’s theme of mortality: it is the third of Andriessen’s Trilogy of the Last Day, a cycle of compositions which all deal with this theme.

Again, the synthesisers are most noticeable at the beginning and end, when the texture is sparse. The score specifies “with decay” at the beginning, with the ‘church bell’ sound: this might be an instruction to alter the decay value of the patch but again no further details are given.

One point of contrast with my own pieces is that Andriessen uses synthesiser patches that resemble acoustic instruments, whereas my pieces almost entirely use patches with a purely electronic timbre. The only exceptions are a few patches used in 1986, such as “Tron Brass” and “Fanfare” which both have a brass timbre. The doubling between the synthesiser and acoustic instruments is something I have utilised in Collingwood 2080 and ‘Cosmic Dust’ from the concerto, but in both cases the two parts eventually separate and harmonise. And again, the synthesiser’s timbre is electronic rather than emulating the acoustic instrument, though in ‘Cosmic Dust’ the waveforms are paired with the instruments that sound closest to in timbre (as explained further on page 69). However, my piece does not use an actual patch of that instrument, as Andriessen’s piece does. Dancing on the Bones also uses the synthesiser to reinforce a particular theme, that of mortality. I have used the synthesiser to pursue extra-musical themes in my music as well, but different ones such as futurism, nature and technology, etc. The synthesiser is also less foregrounded in the Andriessen pieces than in mine.

MAYALL - NOT A ONE WAY STREET (2012)

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Not A One Way Street by New Zealand composer Jeremy Mayall is a chamber work, for synthesiser with violin, piano and cello. Because of the smaller ensemble the synthesiser is more prominent in this piece than in the other example pieces. According to the programme note, the piece “aims to explore the long-established tradition of the piano quartet, and fusing those quartet traditions with jazz, minimalism and electronica”,13 and the synthesiser is used in place of the standard violin, widening the available pitch range in the lower registers particularly.

The piece was written for a Moog synthesiser, but can be performed on any kind of monophonic synthesiser. The synthesiser part uses one core patch throughout, with the ADSR consistent but changes in resonance, filters and modulation parameters, mostly through the instrument’s modulation wheel. The patch used is based on a preset called “Mod Talk Bass”, and sounds somewhat like a robotic human voice; using a kind of vocal vowel shaping through modulation manipulation.

The synthesiser stays in low register for the first half of the piece, providing drones. It adds an atmospheric and ominous undertone to the piece, though the piece sounds upbeat and hopeful overall. About a third of the way into the piece the synthesiser’s part becomes more rhythmic and motivic; at first it shares the “lead” part with the violin, then develops a consistent ostinato pattern, and has more of a backing role. Later it takes on the “lead” part again, using the high register for the first time, then provides rhythmic backing again for the remainder of the piece. Overall the synthesiser plays a variety of roles within the ensemble, but stands out whenever it is present because of the electronic timbre.

Regarding my own compositions, Not A One Way Street is most similar to the Games Suite in terms of the ensemble: a chamber piece that includes one synthesiser. Both pieces have a hybrid quality, combining Western art music with other genres, though the genres themselves are not the same. Both also vary the parameters of the synthesiser patch throughout, though in Not A One Way Street these variations are not notated in the score, as they are in my pieces. In terms of

13 Email correspondence with Jeremy Mayall, June 17th 2019.

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the atmosphere and mood of the piece, Not A One Way Street is more similar to Collingwood 2080, also as both are in single movements; one point of difference is that there is one electronic instrument alongside multiple acoustic instruments in Not A One Way Street, and it is the other way around in Collingwood 2080.

ADAMS - CHAMBER SYMPHONY (1992)

John Adams’s Chamber Symphony is a piece in three movements for chamber orchestra, including a synthesiser. The synthesiser brand is specified in the liner notes: Yamaha SY77 or SY99. It uses various patches that are specified by numbers in the score, not by the name of the patch. The piece was inspired both by Schoenberg’s Chamber Symphony and by 1950s cartoon soundtracks, giving it an unusual hybrid style that is a point of commonality with some of my own work, although the genres themselves are different.

The synthesiser is present throughout most of the piece, though it often isn’t very discernible aurally as it blends into the busy overall texture. Additionally, it often doubles other instruments, usually the bassoon or the double bass, and when it is not doubling it usually has an accompanying role. Perhaps the most prominent moment for the synthesiser is early in the second movement, “Aria With Walking Bass”, where it plays a repeated sextuplet pattern; it is a quiet accompanying part but the texture is sparse so it is easily heard, also as it is in a high register and not doubling anything. Here the timbre of the patch sounds purely electronic, rather than imitating another instrument, but elsewhere in the piece the synthesiser’s patches resemble an electronic piano and a harpsichord. This is an evocation of the “old west”, which ties into the Coyote and Roadrunner theme (“Roadrunner” is the title of the third movement).

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Other moments where the synthesiser is noticeable are a high register passage and staccato chords in the first movement. There is also a section in the third movement where the score specifies “Synthesiser should be the most prominent voice”. In both of these places it again resembles either an electric piano or a harpsichord. Another interesting moment occurs in the second movement, where the synthesiser doubles the double bass, but two triplet-quavers out of step; providing an electronic “echo” of the acoustic instrument.

The synthesiser is nearly always present in the Chamber Symphony, as it is in my own compositions. It is not very prominent in Adam’s work, whereas in mine it usually is. It is nearly always doubling or accompanying the other instruments, while in my pieces it usually has its own voice. (Again, some doubling occurs in Collingwood 2080 and the Cosmic Dust movement of the concerto; but with only those two instruments present at the time, so the synthesiser timbre is still clearly heard, rather than part of a full orchestral texture). There is a similarity to 1986 in that the piece uses a specific brand of synthesiser and moves between different preset patches, without altering them. Adams also uses synthesiser patches that resemble other instruments, whereas I usually use patches with a purely electronic-sounding timbre. The only exceptions would be the “Fanfare” and “Tron Brass” Synclavier patches used in 1986, which resemble brass instruments.

If the use of the synthesiser in this piece is intended to evoke other genres, such as cartoon music and the “old west”, this is a point of similarity with my own music. However, this interpretation is a bit speculative and possibly anachronistic, as the use of the synthesiser sounds “cartoony” to the ears of someone familiar with 1990s cartoons that used synthesiser in their soundtracks; whereas Adams was influenced by 1950s cartoons, which did not use synthesisers as they were not yet widely available. Adams also uses the synthesiser in other pieces such as the Violin Concerto, which were not inspired by cartoon soundtracks. Ultimately Adams is using the synthesiser mainly as another timbral choice to add to his palette, and often to ‘thicken’ other instrumental lines by doubling them.

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CONYNGHAM - MONUMENTS (1989)

Monuments is a piece in three movements for orchestra and piano, where the pianist also plays a synthesiser in places. The brand of synthesiser is specified: a Yamaha DX7, and four of its presets are used.

In this piece the synthesiser is used for programmatic reasons, representing specific locations in Australia. The liner notes of the CD recording refer to the importance of location in Conyngham’s work: “…many details of [Conyngham’s music] may be traced directly to forms and patterns which the composer has observed in the Australian landscape… In Monuments, he takes his starting point from specific landmarks, both natural and man-made.”14

The synthesiser appears prominently in both the second and third movements. In the second movement, “The Barrier Reef/the Snowy Scheme”, it uses patches named “watersound 1” and “watersound 2”; the aquatic sound of these patches is a representation of the Great Barrier Reef. In this movement there are lengthy soloistic passages in the synthesiser part. In the third movement, “The Apostles/cityscape” the synthesiser’s appearance is briefer, but still prominent and it again conveys a sense of location. The patch used (specified as “DX7V1”) plays an arpeggiated pattern with a “wonky” out-of-tune sound. This likely represents an urban environment, and perhaps also the vertical shape of the Apostles, another iconic geographical monument in Australia.

This piece’s theme of nature and technology is a point of similarity with some of my pieces, particularly Collingwood 2080. One point of difference is that in Monuments the Nature associations are reflected in specific synthesiser timbres, like the “watersounds”. This is not something I have done in my music: the synthesiser

14 Southern Cross/Monuments. Barry Conyngham; Geoffrey Simon; Robert Davidovici; Tamás Ungar; London Synphony Orchestra. New York; London: Gala Records, 1992.

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timbres are more purely electronic, and the natural world is evoked more through a general mood, such as a peaceful or mysterious mood; or through the use of titles related to the natural environment, such as Collingwood 2080. Monuments also uses the synthesiser more intermittently than my pieces do, and the performer also plays another instrument (the piano), which is not the case in any of my pieces. Additionally, the synthesiser’s parameters (eg. envelope, waveform etc) are not altered during the piece, as they are in most of mine. Of the works in my portfolio,1986 is probably most similar to Monuments in its use of the synthesiser, as it also specifies the brand of synthesiser and uses several different patches, and has particular programmatic associations.

The five works above have influenced my own use of the synthesiser. However, they are less overt in their use of the synthesiser than is the case in my work, where I use the instrument in a more foregrounded way.

In summary, the two Andriessen works make use of doubling between the synthesiser and acoustic instruments and use the synthesiser to reinforce particular extra-musical themes, as I have also done. Not A One-Way Street is an example of a chamber work that uses a synthesiser, as in my Games Suite, and it incorporates influences of minimalism and rock music, as in a number of my pieces. Monuments conveys particular locations and the natural world, as in Collingwood 2080 which is informed by a particular location. Chamber Symphony takes inspiration from diverse styles in a hybrid manner, which is a common feature a number of my pieces.

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CHAPTER 3: OVERVIEW OF MY MUSICAL STYLE

3.1 Background and influences Since I began composing, I have tried to be eclectic and try a range of different approaches, using various sources of inspiration that sometimes fall outside of the Western art music sphere. When I started composing in high school, two things I gravitated towards were asymmetrical time signatures/phrases and different modes, which respectively were inspired by progressive rock music and world music, especially traditional Scottish and Japanese music. At this time my music was often straightforward harmonically but complex rhythmically, with a strong rhythmic drive and machine-like sounds. Other people described my music as reminiscent of minimalist composers, such as Philip Glass, before I was aware of these composers myself.

At university I listened to minimalist music, particularly that of Steve Reich, and incorporated these influences further into my music. My pieces at this time often used repeated machine-like patterns, a regular rhythmic pulse, and Reich-esque, canonic patterns. These continued to be combined with a modal style, which at this point was also informed by Bartok’s music. In my honours year I tried combining these influences with indeterminacy, using random number generation to create melodic themes that were then developed in a minimalist style. At this time, I also wrote pieces that were more personal in nature, including a symphony that dealt with themes of bereavement and mental illness.

While doing my Masters at the University of Edinburgh, an additional influence I took on was the use of mathematical patterns to generate music, inspired by Xenakis: the first piece I wrote for my Masters was a string quintet that used graph shapes to generate pitch material, where the different movements were related through calculus. Additionally, I tried writing pieces that were sparser and reduced, making use of silence, getting mileage out of few notes and being harmonically ambiguous.

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This was influenced in part by listening to Morton Feldman’s music, for example the piece Rothko Chapel.15

In summary, the main influences on my work prior to the DMA included: • Progressive rock and other popular styles • World music, Japanese and Scottish especially • Minimalism • Mathematical procedures: Xenakis • Experimental music: Feldman

3.2 Components of my compositional style within the DMA portfolio These influences continued into my DMA. In pieces such as the Games Suite and CubeMarsh I used number sequences that were derived alphabetically from words or sequences of words, and used these numbers to generate pitch or rhythmic material, or both. This was a continuation of my earlier uses of mathematical systems and indeterminacy. Similarly, I continued to write pieces that were sparse and harmonically ambiguous. Both Collingwood 2080 and The Front Line 1970 were built around opening themes that were intended to not clearly fit into any one key or mode. This meant that there would be a number of possible ways that they could be harmonised, allowing potential for development, whether or not the themes themselves were altered. This relates to a compositional approach I often use, where I will use indeterminacy or serialism as a starting point to create the early foundations of a piece (such as a melodic theme or a chaconne), but then develop this material in a more intuitive way, usually taking a free-tonal approach.

The influence of Xenakis can also be seen in the piece 1986 and the opening and closing movements of the Concerto, in the use of tremolo cluster chords in the lower strings, sometimes combined with glissandi. However, I did not use mathematical patterns to create the pitch content of these sections, as I did in the Xenakis- influenced music of my Masters; rather I created the music intuitively or by

15 Morton Feldman, Rothko Chapel, composed in 1971.

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condensing melodic material from elsewhere in the piece into chordal form, creating a sounding effect similar to Xenakis. The Feldman influence is present too, with some pieces using a sparse, slow-moving and meditative approach in places: for example, the third movements of both the Games Suite and the Concerto (the ‘Private Eye’ and ‘Cosmic Dust’ movements respectively) and the calm central section of 1986.

The influence of minimalism and rock music is also present in the rhythmic drive of some of the pieces: for example, the fast middle section of Collingwood 2080, and in particular 1986 and the ‘Transmission’ movement of the concerto, both of which have constant repeated quavers running in the background for much of their duration. ‘Transmission’ also uses a very simple version of the phasing process, where a single “beeping” note, that plays once each bar in the clarinet is eventually “echoed” by the other winds both a quaver behind and a quaver ahead (this occurs at bb.38-42 and bb.64-74). Additionally, the first and last movements of the Games Suite are both built around prominent regularly repeating patterns.

These influences, along with others, could situate my music in what has been described as “postmodernism”, in that I am influenced by a variety of different kinds of music from different time periods. Discussing postmodernism in his book Music in the Late 20th Century, Richard Taruskin describes the music of Crumb and Rochberg as follows: “Crumb’s [music] seemed virtually amnesiac, drawing on the music of all times and places as if it were all part of one undifferentiated “now” (as, thanks to recording technology, it had in fact become).”16 And on Rochberg, Taruskin writes: “Juxtaposing historical references without respect for their chronology does alter one’s apprehension of them. The objective in both cases is for styles formerly thought of as part of an inexorable historical progression… to be regarded as expressive rather than historical categories, all equally available to artists of the present, whose “transhistorical” reach is for that reason richer in possibilities than

16 Richard Taruskin. Music in the Late Twentieth Century (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), 424.

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that of any previous generation of artists.”17 This kind of eclecticism is also noted as a growing trend by Alex Ross in Listen To This, where he states that “A lot of younger listeners… are no longer so invested in a single genre,” and that “The borders between “popular” and “classical” are becoming creatively blurred.”18 These statements are even more relevant to present-day composers and listeners who have the internet at their disposal, making it easier to listen to music from any place and time. Therefore, my music owes something to this postmodern attitude that has developed in music in the last 40 years or so.

However, as mentioned above, I also use techniques more associated with modernism in my music, such as indeterminacy, serialism and the use of numerical patterns to generate music. Though I usually use these as a starting point, to generate material that I then work with intuitively, rather than using them to govern the structure of an entire piece.

Despite these reflections on influences, this analysis of my music and its place within wider trends is something that I tend to do in hindsight, once the music has been created. While I am in the middle of the creative process I tend to focus on the individual piece and what it requires. I generally approach each piece in a different way, without a single method or system, and with the underlying concept or idea of the piece driving its method. This approach is reflected by the eclectic mix of influences outlined above.

3.3 Themes in my DMA portfolio:

In this section, I will discuss extra-musical themes in my work, and how they connect with the use of synthesiser in the compositional process. The main themes are as follows:

• Nostalgia (1980s)

17 Taruskin. Music in the Late Twentieth Century, 437. 18 Alex Ross, Listen To This (London: Fourth Estate, 2010), 19.

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• Video games • Science Fiction • Nature and technology • The Cosmos

Probably the most important source of inspiration on the music of my portfolio has been nostalgia. The synthesiser is often associated with the 1980s, when it was used prominently in various kinds of music. I have no memories of the 1980s as I was born towards the end of that decade, however the music of that time was still recent and in circulation in the early 1990s, which is the time period that my earliest memories come from. For me the sound of the synthesiser has associations with popular music, film and television soundtracks that I remember from this era. In addition to music from the past, more current electronica artists who have also inspired my interest in synthesiser music include Scandinavian groups Röyksopp and The Knife, whose music conveys an atmospheric sense of location. I have also been inspired by the Australian groups Cut Copy and The Presets, who assimilate 1980s influences into their own distinctive styles. I have aimed to do something similar in the music of my portfolio.

One particular style of 1980s music that has nostalgic associations for a number of people is early video game soundtracks. This is explained by Anders Carlsson in the article ‘Chip music: low-tech data music sharing’: “Nowadays, it is common to see influences from old video games within popular culture. In media publications this re- use is often explained by the fact that during the past 25 years, children in the Western world have grown up with rapidly evolving video games. Consequently, these games play important roles in their childhood memories.”19 I have emulated this style of music, also known as ‘Chip Music’, in my Games Suite. Carlsson also explains that the genre “…is often defined by technology, which is to say that chip

19 Anders Carlsson, “Chip music: low-tech data music sharing,” in From Pac-Man to Pop Music: Interactive Audio in Games and New Media, ed. Karen Collins (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008), 153.

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music is often defined as all music made with old sound chips.”20 The timbre of basic, “retro” sounding synthesiser waveforms is thus a defining feature, and while there is likely variety in the kinds of music made with this technology, personally I have always associated the style with game soundtracks that are cheerful and energetic.

Additionally, the synthesiser is also used for its science-fiction associations in some of the pieces in my portfolio, particularly the concerto. It has been used to suggest outer space or futuristic landscapes; this association is probably due to the way the instrument was used in popular culture in the 1980s and surrounding decades, particularly film and television soundtracks. For example, the 1977 film Close Encounters of the Third Kind is seen as having reinforced an association between the synthesiser and outer space, partly because a synthesiser features in the plot itself.21 Other examples of science-fiction film soundtracks from this time period that use synthesiser prominently include Tron (1982) by Wendy Carlos, Blade Runner (1982) by Vangelis, Terminator (1984) by Brad Fiedel, Starman (1984) by Jack Nitzsche, and Flight of the Navigator (1986) by Alan Silvestri. This particular association might be viewed as generational, as the synthesiser has developed other cultural associations for composers. For example, the well-known American composer John Adams describes the synthesiser as being associated more with mind-altering substances in the 1960s: “Its… timbre would soon enchant a whole generation of listeners who would automatically associate its sound with the psychedelic experience, its timbres emblematic of the love generation, suggesting “alternate” states of consciousness.”22

While 1980s nostalgia and science-fiction were themes that I planned to explore in the portfolio before I commenced work on it, a further theme emerged unplanned: that of nature and technology in combination. This theme first appeared in

20 Carlsson, “Chip music: low-tech data music sharing”. 159. 21 Trevor Pinch & Frank Trocco, Analog Days: The Invention and Impact of the Moog Synthesizer (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2002), 273. 22 John Adams, Hallelujah Junction: Composing an American Life (New York: Picador, 2008), 194.

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Collingwood 2080, the first piece I wrote for the portfolio, which was inspired by the natural scenery in Golden Bay but also by an imagined futuristic metropolitan landscape. This seemingly contradictory combination recurs in other pieces: for example, the fifth movement of the Voyager Concerto combines the sound of a transmission signal with a pastoral sound reminiscent of Copland’s ‘open air’ works, such as Appalachian Spring. And in The Front Line 1970, the music evokes both helicopter blades and the Vietnamese jungle. One could ascribe this dichotomy to the combination of instruments: a mechanical instrument (the synthesiser) representing technology, alongside acoustic “natural” instruments. However, in reality I like to use the synthesiser as a representation of the natural world as well as the technological: most of the pieces in the portfolio use the synthesiser to create a tranquil and relaxing atmosphere at some point, to represent the peace and quiet of the natural world.

Related to the theme above of science-fiction, a fourth theme I have explored is the cosmos, particularly in the Voyager Concerto. As mentioned above, the synthesiser’s timbre has become associated with outer space because of its use in popular culture. This may be because its unfamiliar/non-human timbre suits the feeling of uncharted or unknown territory, both in a positive way, representing awe and wonderment, or alternatively representing fear and danger. A further association is through the machine-like sounds of the synthesiser representing the machines and calculations required to make space travel possible, both aboard spacecrafts and at earthbound institutions such as NASA (for example, ‘Transmission’ from the Voyager Concerto). I aimed to use the synthesiser to represent all of these associations in the concerto.

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CHAPTER 4: BACKGROUND AND ANALYSIS OF MUSIC IN THE PORTFOLIO

This chapter provides a brief analysis of each composition and relates it to the themes and issues raised in the previous chapters. Each composition will be analysed in terms of the following elements: • Programmatic background • Timbre • Pitch • Rhythm • Structure

4.1 COLLINGWOOD 2080

PROGRAMMATIC BACKGROUND

I began composing this piece in Collingwood, Golden Bay. The majority of the piece was written back in Dunedin, but the core ideas were written in Collingwood, and the piece was intended to evoke the natural landscape that surrounds the town. Collingwood lies in between a beach and a swamp, with mountains in the near distance. The area has the natural beauty typical of New Zealand, and there is sometimes an ominous and foreboding atmosphere to the landscape, because the mountains are often shrouded in mist and rainstorms are frequent. The piece aims to capture sonically both the beauty and calmness of the environment and also a sense of the ominous. I also included musical gestures that sound similar to birdsong and animal calls, as these are another feature of the area, and they inform my music.

The use of synthesiser sounds is intended to give the piece a futuristic feel; when I wrote the piece, I imagined how Collingwood might appear decades into the future. The same natural backdrop would still be there, but the town itself might have grown and become more futuristic, with monorails, chrome buildings etc. Hence the title

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Collingwood 2080 - referring to the year 2080. The juxtaposition of futurism and nature in this piece may seem contradictory but I hoped that these elements might combine to create something new and interesting.

The piece has a ternary ABA structure, with the central section being faster and more rhythmically regular, while the outer ones are slower and more free-flowing. The first section covers bb.1-83, the second section bb.84-159, and the third section bb.160-263.

STRUCTURE

The piece follows a ternary A-B-A structure, though a more detailed analysis is shown below:

FORMAL ANALYSIS:

A (bars 1-22)

A (bars 23-46)

A (bars 47-69)

Linking section (bars 70-83)

B (bars 84-114)

B (bars 115-150)

Linking section (bars 151-159)

A (bars 160-182)

A (bars 183-205)

A (bars 206-228)

A (bars 229-251)

Coda (bars 252-263)

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TIMBRAL ELEMENTS

The piece is for flute and electronics, though it is designed to also be performed by a flautist with three live synthesisers. The electronics component comprises three synth parts, all created on Logic Pro X. Two of them use the ‘Analog Lead’ patch, the third is ‘Soft Analog Pad’; these are inbuilt patches in Logic Pro X. One of the ‘Analog Lead’ tracks plays the bass, the other treble. The treble part often doubles the flute, and other times plays demisemiquaver runs that fade in and out.

This instrumentation seemed to be a good match for a piece inspired by the scenery at Collingwood. The timbre of the flute is well-suited to the calm and pastoral nature of the piece. Similarly, the analogue synthesiser sounds were also chosen because they have a soft and mellow sound. I was inspired to use these sounds by the music of Boards of Canada, a Scottish electronica group, who use analogue synthesisers to emulate the soundtracks of nature documentaries from the 1970s and 1980s. An additional association these sounds had for me was of early memories of visiting museums in childhood, and audiovisual exhibits about New Zealand’s natural history. I remember exhibits with soundtracks that used similar synthesiser sounds, for atmospheric effect. These would have been created at a time when such sounds were relatively new and current. These associations also made the analogue synthesiser sounds seem like a good match for a piece with a New Zealand Nature theme.

Overall the flute and electronics timbres are meant to integrate rather than contrast with each other. At the beginning of the piece the flute and the synth lead play the same theme in unison; gradually they separate, but still contribute to the same overall texture and mood. The fast, central section is where they come closest to contrasting with one another, as the flute plays rubato birdsong-like sounds over a repeating rhythmic bass figure in the synthesiser. But even here they are not intended to clash overtly; they combine for a busy and energetic overall sound. At the end of this section the flute and synth pad have similar descending portamento gestures, also connecting the two timbres. There are also passages where the flute

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plays melody over the top of chordal bedding in the electronics, such as in the concluding bars of the piece.

The synthesiser parts remain on their assigned patches throughout; the only change is that the glide increases and decreases. Similarly, the only special performance technique to be used in the flute part is pitch bending. For example, from b.79 to b.157 in the Analog Pad, the glide is at a high setting, resulting in descending glissandi that are then echoed by pitch bends in the flute at bb.151-155; and later by the synth lead at bb.197-204, here using the pitch bend wheel rather than the glide. In places the effect of the glissandi and pitch bending is to imitate animal calls, but overall there are other associations that could be inferred; flowing water, steep mountain shapes, etc. Glissandi are often used to suggest uncertainty and foreboding, and here I wanted them to partly suggest that but also to suggest relaxation at the same time.

PITCH CONTENT

There is one main melodic theme that opens the piece, and lasts for 21 bars (see fig. 1). It was composed freely but features octatonic scale patterns and prominent minor 7ths: a descending minor 7th (Eb-F) opens the theme, and the intermediate Bb is later introduced to suggest a stacked-fourths pattern. At first the theme is played in unison between the flute and synth lead, unaccompanied; and upon the first repeat it is harmonised with sustained bass notes, in the synth pad part. The bass notes are chosen to sound unexpected and not the most obvious choices given the notes they accompany.

In the second section, the bass synth plays a repeated ascending minor 7th (Bb-Ab), an inversion of the descending minor 7th that begins the main theme. At times it changes to C-Db, in a return to the octatonic pattern. Above this, the flute plays birdsong-like sounds that also use octatonic scale patterns. The flute part here also includes other sections of the main theme, but in faster note values and repeated in order to sound like birdsong.

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In the third section (starting at b.160) the theme is played by the bass synthesiser, first in its original form, then in a variation at bb.206-227 (see fig. 2). In the variation, the parts of the theme that usually feature fourths and sevenths are contracted so that they fit into an octatonic scale pattern, so that in this variation the theme sounds more claustrophobic and tense. Likewise, the parts of the theme that were originally octatonic are expanded so that they feature stacked fourths, but follow the same contours. Additionally, the glide is set to a higher value for these repeats of the theme, which also creates a more sinister and tense sound. In both forms the theme is again accompanied by long held bass notes in the synth pad, but they are a different set of notes this time around. Additionally, the flute and synth lead play new material, again sounding similar to birdsong.

Fig. 1 Main theme

2b˙™ bœbœ™ œ bœ ˙ œbœb˙ j ™ ™ j j &2 œ w J J œ™ œ™ J nœ ˙ œ bœ œ bœ œ™ œ w f 9 b˙™ bœ™ j j bœ™ œ œ™ bœbœ bœ œ bœ bw Ó œ œ™ & bœ œ™ œ ˙ œ J J J J ˙™ œ#œ mf ff mp 16 œ j ‰ Œ Œ œ™ œ ˙™ œ™ j œ™bœ ˙ Œ &<#>œ œ ˙ œ #œ œ ˙ œ ˙™ f

Fig. 2 Variation of main theme

206 j ? 2b˙™ œ w bœbœ™ œ œ™ œ™ bœ ˙ œbœb˙™ œ œ œ™ œ bœ™ œ™ j ™ j 2 J J J bœ œ œ

213 ? b˙™ bœ™ ™ j j bœ™ œ bœbœ bœ bœ bw ˙ œ ™ w bœ œ œ ˙ œ Jbœ™ J Jbœ J œ ˙™ œ œ

221 ? j ‰ Œ Œ œ™ ™ ™ j œ™ Œ œ œ œ ˙ œ #œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ bœ ˙ w ˙™

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The piece is free-tonal, using a harmonic language that generally sounds tonal but also moves freely into unexpected areas. The main theme is centred on F, sometimes fitting into F natural minor but also using octatonic scale patterns; and the bass harmonisations that accompany it also sometimes fall outside of the F natural minor scale. As this theme permeates the first and second sections, these sections are effectively centred on F; while the middle section is centred on Bb, again using octatonic scale patterns. Therefore, there is an overall tonic-subdominant-tonic structural pattern in the piece. The only other brief centre of gravity is Ab, in the transitory passage between the first and second sections at bb.70-82.

RHYTHMIC FEATURES

The outer sections of the piece were composed in a rubato style, rhythmically quite free- flowing and not falling into a strict metrical pattern. Over this a 2/2 metre was imposed, so that the music is notated precisely, while composed in such a way as to sound as if in free time. The bar lines are therefore for the convenience of the performers, and do not affect the flow of the rhythm.

The middle ‘B’ section is faster and more rhythmically regular, in contrast to the outer sections. This section represents the imagined futuristic version of Collingwood, with the rhythmic regularity reflective of technology and machines, in contrast to the “natural” free rhythms of the outer sections. The bass synth plays a repeated rhythmic pattern with a repeated ascending minor 7th (Bb-Ab). This pattern consists of two small rhythmic cells (quaver-quaver and quaver-crotchet) that are repeated in a randomly generated sequence of two numbers: 1 1 1 2 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 1 1 1 2 1 2 2, with 1 assigned to ‘quaver- crotchet’ and 2 to ‘quaver-quaver’ (see fig.3). The retrograde of this number sequence is also used to create a different rhythmic pattern in the bass synth whenever the notes switch to C-Db.

Fig. 31 Repeated1 1 2 1 1 2 rhythmic2 2 2 2 1 1 pattern 1 2 1 2 in2 the bass, first appears at bb.84-89 bb.84-89 1 1 1 2 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 1 1 1 2 1 2 2 ? j bœ j œ j œ œ j œ j œ œ œ œ œ œ j œ j œ j œ œ j œ œ œ bœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

* bœ bœ œ œ bœ œ œ bœ œ œ œ ? ∑ 4 Ó ‰ j j j j j 4 bœ bœ œ œ bœ œ œ bœ œ œ œ 31

? j bœ j œ œ œ bœ œ œ bœ œ bœ bœ œ j œ j bœ œ œ bœ œ œ bœ œ bœ bœ bœ œ bœ

? bœ œ j œ j bœ œ j œ j bœ œ j œ j bœ bœ œ bœ œ bœ bœ bœ œ bœ œ bœ bœ bœ bœ œ bœ œ

? bœ bœ bœ j j j j bœ œ œ œbœ œ bœ œ œ œ œ œ bœ œ œ œ œ œ œ bœ œ œ œ œ œ

? j j j j œ bœ œ œ œ œ œ bœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œbœ œ œ œ œ œbœ œ œ œ œ œ

? j j j j j j j j bœ œ œ œ œ œ œbœ œ œ œ œ œ œbœ œ œ œ œ œ bœ œ œ œ œ œ

? œbœ œ œ œ œbœ œbœ œ œ œ œ Œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

? 1 1 1 2 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 1 1 1 2 1 2 1 2 1 2 1 2 2 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

? ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

4.2 THE FRONT LINE 1970

PROGRAMMATIC BACKGROUND

The Front Line 1970 is written for cello and electronics, though it can also be performed by cello with live synthesisers. The electronics component was created on Logic Pro X, and mostly consists of synthesiser sounds. The piece could be seen as a companion piece to Collingwood 2080, in that both are for one acoustic instrument alongside electronics or live synthesisers. However, in Collingwood 2080, the electronics component consists only of synthesiser parts, while The Front Line 1970 uses other instrumental sounds: string orchestra, choir, whistles and synthetic voice. Additionally, the synthesiser patches in The Front Line 1970 morph throughout the piece, with automation used on the envelope and waveforms, changing between sawtooth and square, attack increasing and decreasing, vibrato rate varying, etc, while in Collingwood 2080 they are fixed throughout the duration. This was because I had accumulated more experience and knowledge of the synthesiser’s capabilities in between writing the two pieces.

While the piece did not start out with any specific programmatic ideas, I had in mind film soundtracks from the 1970s and 1980s, because of the synthesiser sounds I planned to use. Once I began writing the piece the topic of war came to the front of my mind. At first this was because two of the film soundtracks that provided inspiration were those of were Apocalypse Now and Jacob’s Ladder, both of which have plots centred on the Vietnam war. Overall the piece has a fever-dream atmosphere, and is intended to sound calm and suspenseful at the same time.

STRUCTURE

For approximately the first two-thirds of the piece, up until bar 160, the passacaglia is the structural backbone. It does not run constantly throughout those bars; there are also short ‘interludes’ between cycles, such as at bb.33-35 and bb.50-57. There are

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four cycles of the passacaglia before the ‘chord’ version appears, at b.79, which condenses all the previous harmonisations into a set of triads. After this the passacaglia returns in an elongated form, with each of the notes having a longer duration; in this version the synthesiser plays them with varying levels of vibrato. Here the passacaglia is also split up into two halves, which alternate with a new ‘chordal’ version. After this the original chordal version returns, with inversions; this is the last time the passacaglia is used.

After this there are three small standalone sections, which are all sparse instrumentally: the first (at bb.160-175) features the synthesiser playing a descending minor 3rd with descending glide, sounding like a bird call; the second (bb.176-184) features staccato synthesiser chords played together with pizzicato cello; the third (bb.185-199) begins with more staccato synthesiser chords but with lower attack, giving way to sustained notes in the synthesiser with upward glide and a descending 5th. The final section starting at b.200 uses a melodic theme that was also created with random generation (see fig. 8): it repeats three times with increasing intensity, before the piece ends with a variation of this theme with vibrato, fading into the distance.

FORMAL ANALYSIS: A (bars 1-16) A (bars 17-35) A (bars 36-57) A (bars 58-78) A (bars 79-100) A (bars 101-117) A (bars 118-145) A (bars 146-159) B (bars 160-175) C (bars 176-184) D (bars 185-189) E (bars 190-197)

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F (bars 198-208) F (bars 209-218 F (bars 219-233)

TIMBRAL ELEMENTS

The synthesiser sounds in the electronics component of the piece almost entirely use Logic Pro’s ‘Retrosynth’ interface, with the two patches ‘Classic Analog Pad’ and ‘Soft Analog Pad’ as starting points (which are then subjected to various modifications). The one exception is the ‘Analog Moog Lead’ patch, which briefly appears in the background at bb.132-135 and bb.221-228. In addition to synthesisers, the electronics also feature synthetic voice, choir, string orchestra and a patch called ‘distant whistle’.

The analogue sounds were chosen for the 1970s and 1980s associations. I used ‘pad’ rather than ‘lead’ patches because they suited the dreamlike and surreal atmosphere that I wanted for the piece: pads have high attack and release, so that the notes creep in and then ring on, without sharp definition. The synthetic voice was also chosen because it seemed evocative of 1970s and 1980s film soundtracks. I used the whistle sound because of the Vietnam War associations; its sound seemed reminiscent of a South-East Asian wind instrument, such as a bamboo flute.

The string orchestra and choir sounds are used to parallel and echo the solo cello and the synthetic voice, providing a kind of ensemble counterpart to their solo parts. This is done with the solo instrument (cello or synthetic voice) playing a sustained note, with the ‘group’ emerging and disappearing back into silence, playing a chord over that note. This provides passing moments of grandeur and atmosphere; sometimes an atmosphere of open space, with the chords using stacked 5ths or 4ths, and other times an atmosphere of tension with the use of cluster chords. Matching performance techniques are also used in these places: when the cello is playing tremolo, the string orchestra will also play tremolo.

34

The synthesiser patches are altered in various ways during the piece. Vibrato is used with varying speeds, most prominently in bb.100-117, in the bass register of the synthesiser. At high speeds it becomes noise without discernible pitch; at lower speeds the notes are discernible, but the sound is queasy and unstable. In both cases it is intended to suggest the sound of helicopter blades. After this point in the piece, there are occasional flourishes of closely-spaced notes with vibrato, which ring on, sounding similar to bird calls (e.g. at b.131, b.153, b.157). In the closing bars of the piece (starting at b.228), vibrato is used on a variation of the final section’s theme, to give a sense of disintegration and instability.

Different waveforms are also used in the synthesiser parts. For the most part the waveform is either set to saw or combined saw & square, which is appropriate for the tense character of the music. However, square/triangle is used at bb.118-128, which has a warmer sound.

As mentioned above, the attack and release are mostly set to high values, so that notes fade in and out gradually. This suits the ethereal and uncertain mood of the piece. One exception is in the section starting at b.176, where the attack is low, so that the notes enter sharply; this is to match the pizzicato in the cello. But even in this section the attack is raised partway through, to give a feeling of increasing peacefulness in this section.

A further synthesiser effect used in the piece is glide, in the chordal section from bb.146-159, the section from bb.160-175, and at bb.187-197. It isn’t used to glide ‘between’ notes, as would typically be the case in a ‘lead’ patch; rather each individual note or chord is slid towards from above or below, depending on the auto- bend depth. This has the same effect as the cello glissandi earlier in the piece, where the destination note isn’t always obvious. In both cases the effect is of uncertainty and unpredictability.

35

PITCH GENERATION

The starting point for the piece is a sequence of twelve notes that would function as a passacaglia, repeated initially in the bass register, with different harmonisations. (This sequence was not a twelve-tone row; it contains repeated notes). As mentioned above, I did not have any programmatic ideas for the piece at the outset, but I intended to use analogue synthesiser sounds, which are associated with the 1970s and 1980s and were often used in film soundtracks of that time. Therefore, I generated the passacaglia note-sequence from the release dates of four of my favourite films from the 1970s and 1980s: Apocalypse Now, The Shining, Terminator and Aliens. Respectively their release dates were 15/8/79, 23/5/80, 26/10/84 and 18/7/86. Separating the day, month and year of each yields twelve numbers:

15 8 79 23 5 80 26 10 84 18 7 86

Using modular arithmetic with modulus twelve, whereby from each number is subtracted the nearest multiple of 12 that is smaller than it (so 15 becomes 15-12 = 3, 79 becomes 79-72 = 7, etc.), these can be converted to a set of numbers between one and twelve, which can then each be assigned to a note of the chromatic scale.

3 8 7 11 5 8 2 10 12 6 7 2

Assigning the number 1 to C, 2 to C#, 3 to D, and so forth, this gives the following set of notes:

36

D G F# A# E G C# A B F F# C#

Or in a linear sequence: D G F# A# E G C# A B F F# C#.

These notes form the passacaglia (see fig. 4). The piece opens with the cello and analog pad playing them out of phase with each other, so that the pad rings on with each note after the cello stops playing it. The second time around, they follow the same rhythmic pattern but the pad plays different notes to harmonise (these notes are chosen intuitively) (see fig. 5). The third time around, the pad plays both the cello’s and pad’s notes from the previous cycle, while the cello separates and plays different material over the top, with longer sustained notes and glissandi.

The cello part is sometimes melodic but often a part of the overall texture. It is often intended to be on the cusp of jarring harmonically with the electronics, while also aligning with them. When glissandi are included, often the intention is that it isn’t obvious to the listener which note the cello will eventually arrive at; this adds an extra feeling of unpredictability.

Fig. 4 Main 12-note sequence, first appears at bb.1-16 bw w nw ? w w w #w nw #w bw w nw #w ? w w w nw #w w #w #w w #w #w w b w nw #w Fig.? 5 Main 12w-note sequencebw with thew first set of added harmonisationsw nw,w bb.17-32 w nw #bw w #w #w b w w w nw #w ? w bw w w nww #w w nw #bw w #w nw w #w #w nw #nw w #w n#ww ##ww #w #ww bw nw nw w & w #w #w w w bnwnw nnw #w w w w nw #nw w #w n#ww ##ww #w #ww bw nw nw w & nw #w #w bwb ww wnw w bnwnw nnw #w bww bww # n w #ww w bwnww n w nww w b nww # nww bw # #nww w nw #w #w bbbwwn b ww# # w # #ww 2 & w ##ww ##ww b b wnww nnww n 37w 2 bnww bww## nww #w w b nww n w nww wnb nww## nww bw #nww w nw #w #w bbbww b w # w #n#ww 2 & nw w ##ww ##ww nw n w 2

bœ bœ ? 2bœ nœ™ œ bœ œ ™ B J 2 ‰ J bœ œ ˙ ‰ bœ bœ œ j bœ™ œ bœ™ ? 2bœ nœ™ ‰ œ bœ™ œ ™ Œ B‰ 2œ bœ J J œ œ B ˙ œ œ ?œbœ œ bœ œ œ™ œ Œ Œ ˙™ œ Œ Ó bœ J œ3 bœ B ˙ Œ œ bœ œ ™ Œ Œ ?œ œ ™ Œ Ó J œ œ ˙ œ 3

w bw w nw When? wthe passacaglia is repeated withw enough different harmonisations,nw a chordal #w w #w #w version appears that condenses the bass notes and harmonisations into a set of #w w bw w nw twelve? w triads (see fig. 6). The first ofw these chordal versions appears at b.79,nw the #w bbww #w w nnww ?? w ww #w bw ww w #w w nnwww #w secondw (see fig. 7) at b.118, followednw by a wrepeat#b ofw wthe first one. #w ##ww nw w ##ww #w #w ? #w w bbw w w nw nww Fig. 6 #Fwwirst chordw sequenceb, bb.79w -96 w # w w nw ? w #w bw nww nw bw w nww #w w nw #bw w nw #nw w#w #w # w ##w#ww #w w# w bw w n#ww w & nn w #w ww b w bn ww nw n w #w w #w # w w n w w #w nw #nw w #w b nw#wwn##ww b#bwb ww#wwnw bnbww nw #nnwnww nw w w &b#ww wn#nwww### #w#ww#w #w##w nw#wwnw#wwwn w bwww bnbnwwwnbb nwww## nnwwnwww w#w &bw w nww#w w#w ww w#w w#w bnbwnwww #nnww #n##www 2 Fig.& 7 wSecondw w chord sequence,##ww w# #bb.ww118w-145nw n w 2 b b ww nw bw bbwww## nnwww #w wbbbb nwwww nww nnwww wnbn nwww## nww bbww w ####nwwww #w nnww nw n #ww w#w bbbbwwnbb bwww## nw#ww # #ww 2 & bw w nww ##ww ##ww nw #nww #w bb ww # w # #wnw w 2 2 & nww w ##ww ##ww nw n w n w 2

bœ ™ bœ™ ? 2bœ nœ™ œ bœ œ ™ j bœ œ B 2 ‰ J bœ œ œ™ œ Œ ‰ Fig. 8 Closing theme – first appears at bb.198-208J bœ™ bœ bbœœ bœ™ bbœœ œœ j bjœbœ™ ™ œ œ bœ™ ??22bœ nnœœ™ œ ‰ œ J bbœœ™™ œœ œ™ bœ œœ Œ ŒB‰B‰ B 22˙ Œ œ bœ œ ™ J Œ JŒ œ?™œ œ ™ Œ Ó J œ œ J ˙ œ 3 bbœœ œ bœbœ œ BB ˙˙ ŒŒ œ bœ œœ ™™ ŒŒ ŒŒ??œœ œ ™ ™ Œ Œ Ó Ó JJ œœ œœ ˙˙ œ œ 3

Score note:

The score for The Front Line 1970 included in this portfolio is the “cello and electronics” version, designed for the cellist to read but with a condensed overview of the electronics part. All of the electronic parts are represented in the score, but multiple parts are sometimes combined onto a single stave. The piece could be performed completely live by a cellist and multiple synthesiser players, but this would require a different version of the score with more staves, one for each performer.

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4.3 GAMES SUITE

This piece is for clarinet, bassoon and synthesiser, with the synthesiser emulating the soundtracks of early video games. For the most part this sound, reminiscent of early 8-bit synthesisers, is achieved by minimising the effects on the synthesiser, reducing the sound to that of the basic waveforms, and having high decay and sustain with low attack and release.

The three central movements all take inspiration from Atari games I played around the age of five or six: Vanguard23, Joust24 and Private Eye25. The inspiration is not taken from the soundtracks of these games (which mostly consisted of sound effects, and only infrequent use of actual music), but from the mood, the gameplay and the visuals. In each movement, the name of the corresponding game is also used to generate musical material. The numbers corresponding to each letter are used to generate either some pitch material, rhythmic material or both.

The choice of instrumentation was an intuitive one, but woodwind instruments seemed like they would be a good fit with the synthesiser sounds I planned to use, particularly when playing staccato. The short/sharp sound of the staccato winds can have a jaunty and playful quality appropriate for a video game themed piece, and also resembles the machine-like “beeps and boops” typical of early video game soundtracks; and the more soulful expressive lines in the third movement seemed well-suited to the clarinet. The aim was for the acoustic and electronic sounds to integrate, and one way I strived for this was to use performance techniques in the winds that imitated effects that the synthesiser was using: for instance, tone-trills to imitate the synthesiser’s vibrato and wah-wah in the second movement, and low multiphonics to imitate the bitcrusher effect in the fourth movement.

23 Vanguard, released in 1981 by TOSE 24 Joust, released in 1982 by Williams Electronics 25 Private Eye, released in 1983 by Activision

39

1st Movement: Intro

The introduction that bookends the piece is not based on a game - the five-note sequence that opens it is derived from the letters in the word Atari. Each letter of the alphabet is paired with a number: A = 1, B = 2 etc. Therefore, the corresponding numbers for Atari are 1 20 1 18 9. This number sequence is then used to generate a set of five notes: with the note C assigned to 1 and each integer spaced semitones apart (2 as Db, 3 as D, 4 as Eb etc). Therefore, the musical motif for Atari is C G C F Ab (see fig. 9). The movement opens with the synthesiser playing these five notes repeatedly in a regular staccato pattern, with one note occasionally changed to a grace note to provide rhythmic variation. The rest of the movement is freely composed using this motif as a starting point.

Fig. 9 ‘Atari’ motif j & ‰ œ ‰ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ bœ j j {? œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

Each of the notes in the motif, C G F and Ab, is also used as the first note of an j additional& ‰ setb ofœ notes‰ (see fig.10), and in addition to ∑these four extra note-sets∑ there ∑ ∑ are a further two (see fig.12)bœ. Laterbœ in the movement, the first note of each set is {shifted? b toœ another‰ set,œ providing‰ some‰ variation (see ∑fig.11). Each note-set is also∑ ∑ ∑ used in Jthe legato phrasesJ in addition to the staccato figures. The movement is through-composed and has no pre-planned formal structure, though the repeated staccato pattern that marks out the various note-sets is a recurring idea that permeates through the movement. ‰ j ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & œ nœ #œ bœ j j { ? œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

40 ? œ #œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ œ #œ &

#œ & œ bœ bœ œ nœ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & j œ bœ œ œ ? j { œ ‰ Œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ &

#œ bœ œ œ & ‰ J ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ j {& bœ ‰ Œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ?

‰ j ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & œ #œ #œ œ j j {? œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ j & ‰ œ ‰ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ bœ j j {? œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ j j & ‰ œ ‰ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & ‰‰ œj ‰‰ œ ∑∑ j bœ ∑∑ ∑ ∑ & bœ bœ & ‰ œ ‰ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ bœ bœ ? j ‰ j ‰ ‰bœ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ? j j { œ œ {? b‰œœ j‰ ‰œœ ‰ ‰ ? j∑∑ j ∑∑ ∑∑ ∑∑ {& œ‰ J œ‰ ‰ { œ ∑ ‰ œ ‰ ‰∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ J bœ j j {? œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & ‰ j ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ‰ j ‰ b∑œ ∑ ∑ ∑ & ‰ bœj ‰ ‰ ∑ j ‰ bœ bœ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & œ nœ b#œ & bœ ? bœ œ bœ { bœ ‰ J ‰ ‰bœ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ? bœj j‰ œj ‰ ‰ J ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ {& ‰Jœ bœ‰ ‰Jœ ‰ ‰ {? bœ ∑∑ ‰ œ ‰ ‰∑∑ ∑ ∑∑ ∑ ∑∑ ∑ ∑ bœ bœ J J ? bœ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ { J J ‰ j ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ j & œ nœ #œ &? ‰ œ ‰ #œ ∑ j bœ ∑ ∑ ∑ #œ œnœ #œ ∑‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & ∑ ∑ œ bœ & j œ j nœ #œ {? œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰bœ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ? j j j j j {& ‰œ œ‰ ‰œ #œ‰ ‰ ? ∑∑ ‰ ‰ ‰∑∑ ∑ ∑∑ ∑ ∑∑ ∑ ∑ Fig. 10 Additionalnœ notebœ-sets#œ {that eachœ startœ with a note of the ‘Atari’ motif (shown in & œ bœ bœ œ nœ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ blue)? j j { œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ? ∑ #œ ∑ ∑ ∑ #œ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & ? œ #œ œ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ œ‰ #œ ? ∑ œ #œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ &∑ ∑ 1. &(bassoonj bb.46-49œ) 2. (clarinetœ #œ bb.50-54) & bœ œ œ ? j #œ bœ #œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ? #œ œ & ∑œ bœ œ n∑œ ∑ ∑ & { œœ ‰ bœŒ #œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑∑ & & œ bœ œ nœ #œ & œ bœ bœ œ nœ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ 3. (synthesiser bb.54-57) 4. (synthesiser bb.57-60) bœ #œ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & œ bœ œ#œnœœ & j œ & ‰ bœj œ ∑∑ bœ œ œ ∑∑ ∑ ∑ & J œ œ & ‰ j ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ bœ œ ? j œ œ { œ ‰bœ Œ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & ?‰ j ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ {& œ j‰ ŒŒ ? ∑∑j ∑∑ ∑ ∑ &? {& bœ œ œ œ ‰ Œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ bœ œ { & j ? ‰ Œ ∑ 2 #œ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ { œ bœ œ & #œ œ & ‰ J #œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ 2 bœ œ & ‰ œ j ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & ‰ Jj ‰ ∑ ∑bœ œ ∑ ∑ œ œ ∑ ∑ ∑∑ & #œ & ‰ J bœ œ ∑ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ œ ##œœ j ? 2 ‰ œ œ {& bœ ∑‰ Œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ Fig.& 11j ‘Shifted’bœ j versions of the note-sets ? j ™ &?‰ j J‰ œŒj œ œ ∑∑ j { ∑∑‰ Œ ∑∑ ∑ ∑∑ ?∑ ∑ ∑ {& bœ bœ‰ œ ‰ œ‰ bœ ∑ ‰ Œ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ? {& ?& ‰ j ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ { jj b‰œ Œ™ œ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ {1.& (Cb œinœ bass)‰ (Œsynthesiserœ œ bb.92∑-95) 2. (C in bass)∑ (synthesiser bb.100∑ -103) ∑ ? ? j ™ ‰ j ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ { ‰ Œ & ∑ #œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ‰œ j ‰ ∑œ &#œ‰ bœ ∑bœ ‰ nœ #œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & #œ ‰ j ‰ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ œ #œ & j œ #œ j ‰ bœ ‰ œ #{œ? œ ‰ ∑ œ ‰#œ ‰œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ &?‰ j bœj ‰ j nœ ∑ ? ‰∑ ‰ ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & ‰ #œ ‰ ‰ j ∑ {j j ∑ j ∑ ∑ { œ œ œ #œ ? œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ‰ bœ bœ ‰ nœœ #œ{ ∑ œ ∑ œ ∑ ∑ ?& j ‰ ‰j ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ {{? œ j ‰ œ ‰j ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ œ œ ? ‰ ‰ ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ { j j ‰ j #œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ 3. (F inœ bass) (windsœ bb.104-112) 2 4. &(G in bass)bœ (windsœ œbb.96-99) j #œ & ‰ œ ∑ ?& ‰ ∑ j ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ bœ œ { j ‰ Œ œ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ œ bœ œ œ & ‰ j #œ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ {? j b‰œ Œœ ∑ ? j ∑‰ Œ™ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ œ { œ ? j ‰ Œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ { œ ‰ j ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & nœ. œ. j bœ. Atari motif‰ (Ab ‰in bass) (synthesiser∑ bb.113-122)‰ ∑ bœj ‰ #œ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & nœ. œ. {?& j bœ‰ œ ‰ nœ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ j bœ. bœ. . & ‰ nœ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ? j ‰. j ‰œ. ‰ ∑ ? ∑ ∑ ∑ { bœ œ. bœ. { j ‰ ‰ j ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ . j œ œ {? j ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ bœ. .

‰ j #œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & bœ œ œ ? j ‰ Œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ { œ 41

‰ j ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & nœ. œ. bœ. j {? j ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ bœ. . j & ‰ œ ‰ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ bœ j j {? œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

j & ‰ j ‰ ∑ & ‰ œ∑ ‰ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ Fig. 12 Furtherbœ notebœ-setsbœ that appear in the piece bœ ? bœ œ ? j ‰ j ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ { J ‰ J ‰ ‰ ∑ { œ ∑ œ ∑ ∑ Variation of Atari motif Standalone note-set (synthesiser bb.23-30) (synthesiser bb.17-22) j j & ‰ œ ‰ #œ ∑ & ‰ ∑ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ nœ bœ bœ bœ bœ ? j j ? bœ œ { œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ∑ { J ‰ ∑ J ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

? #œ j #œ œ ∑ & ‰ ∑ œ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑& ∑ ∑ œ nœ #œ bœ j j {? œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ #œ & œ bœ bœ œ nœ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

‰ ∑ ? ∑ œ #œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & j œ œ #œ & bœ œ œ ? j { œ ‰ Œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & #œ & œ bœ bœ œ nœ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

#œ œ ‰ bœ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & J & ‰ j œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ bœ œ œ j ‰ Œ ∑ ? j ∑ ∑ ∑ ? {& bœ { œ ‰ Œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ &

#œ œ ‰ j ‰ ∑ bœ ∑ œ ∑ ∑ & #œ & ‰ J ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ œ #œ œ ? j j j { œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ∑ {& bœ ‰ ∑ Œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ?

‰ j ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & #œ œ #œ œ j j {? œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

42

2nd Movement: Vanguard

The Vanguard movement is intended to have a feeling of forward propulsion, as if energetically completing a journey. In the original gameplay of Vanguard, the player is a spaceship that moves through a horizontal tunnel and then a vertical tunnel. The movement represents this with the clarinet and bassoon providing a sort of “horizontal” and “vertical” framing for the synthesiser: the wind instruments first play repeated notes that stay within a limited range, only moving a few semitones in either direction. This is the “horizontal” tunnel shape. Later they play a repeated ascending figure: this conveys the “vertical” shape. In both, the synthesiser moves freely in between, like the spaceship in the game.

There are two melodic themes in this movement. One is generated from the word “Vanguard”, using the same alphabetical method described above (see fig.14); the other is freely composed (see fig.13). The “Vanguard” theme is derived in the same way as the “Atari” one from the first movement: the corresponding numbers are 22 1 14 7 21 1 18 4, which give the notes A C C# F# G# C F Eb, across several octaves. Octave-leaping is a feature of both themes, contrasting with the limited pitch range in the accompanying wind parts, and also adding a playful and unpredictable quality. The “Vanguard” theme is initially broken up into several segments, which repeat themselves before moving on to the next segment. They are also harmonised into major triads (F, A and D), to fit with the upbeat & exuberant feel of this movement.

The repeated ascending figure beginning at b.44, representing the “vertical” shape, uses two repeated sets of seven notes. The time signature is 4/4, for the convenience of the synthesiser performer, so the rhythm shifts back by a quaver with each bar. The movement ends with tone-trills in the winds alongside a sustained note with a wah-wah effect in the synthesiser, before the winds disappear and the synthesiser’s wah-wah changes to wide vibrato; ending the movement with a change from pitch into noise, or order into disorder.

43 œ ™ ™ #œ™ #œ œ œ #œ #œ œ #œ #œ nœ™ ? Œ ‰ J j ‰ œ #œ œ #œ J #œ œ œ j b˙ œ™ ‰ Ó œ Jnœ J nœ

Fig. 13 Freely composed theme, first appears at bb.4-6 œ. œ nœ œ nœ j j œ™ bœ bœ™ ? ‰ œ J œ J œ œ ? œ J & #œ œ J J ˙

Fig. 14 “Vanguard” Theme, first appears at bb.13-18 œ ™ ™ #œ™ #œ œ œ #œ #œ œ #œ #œ nœ™ ? Œ ‰ J j ‰ œ #œ œ #œ J #œ œ œ j b˙ œ™ ‰ Ó œ Jnœ J nœ

44

3rd Movement: Private Eye

The Private Eye movement is based on a game in which the player is a detective who collects information. The music is more slow-paced than in the previous two movements, and has a sense of information gradually accumulating as new notes are gradually added to the opening material, with a sneaking and almost sinister sound. The synthesiser’s attack and release are both increased relative to the first two movements, so the notes gradually creep in and out. The wah-wah effect is also used, with varying speeds.

Again, there are notes generated from the words “Private Eye”: eb f Ab a C g E E b E. (The notes in lower case are in the higher octave). Dividing these between those in the lower octave and the higher octave, we get C, Ab, E, E and E - and eb, f, g, a and b. During the movement these are paired in various combinations, to make dyads that form 5-chord progressions, as shown below:

1. C & f Ab & g E & eb E & a E & b (bb.1-6, 12-16) 2. C & eb Ab & f E & a E & b E & g (bb.7-11, 17-21) 3. C & a Ab & b E & g E & f E & eb (bb.29-32) 4. C & b Ab & eb E & f E & g E & a (bb.37-41) 5. C & g Ab & a E & b E & eb E & f (bb.97-102)

Typically, the clarinet is given the high note, the bassoon the lower note, and the synthesiser an additional freely chosen note (see fig.15). The synthesiser notes are chosen to sound as though they are on the verge between fitting and not fitting; this adds to the ominous mood and represents the “outsider” status of a private detective: the loneliness of a person on the fringes, snooping in the shadows.

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bb.1-6, bb.12-16 b1.b..1--6,, bb..12--16 Fig. 15 Chordb1b...1 -progressions6, bb.12-16 shown on a stave, with synthesiser notes in blue. b&b.1-16w., bb.12-1w6 w w ∑ ∑ ∑ 1&. w w bw w w ∑ ∑ ∑ && w ww bw w w ∑ ∑ ∑ w bbww bnww ww w ∑ ∑ ∑ & ? #www bw bw nw w w w {? #w bbww nw w w ∑ ∑ ∑ w w w w {? #ww bbww nww www w ∑ ∑ ∑ {? #wwbw nw w w w ?{#ww b w w w ww ∑ ∑ ∑ { bb.7-11, bb.17-21 w ∑ ∑ ∑ b2.b..7--11,, bb..17--21 b2b..7-11, bb.17-21 bb.7-121. ,w bb.17-21 w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & 2w. w w w bw #w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ 2&.& ww w #w bw #w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & ww w #ww bw #ww ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & ww bww w #w bww w #w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ? w w bww #ww bw w #w w {?? w w bw #w w w w w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑∑ {{? ww bw ww w ww ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ?{w bw w w w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ { bb.22-32 w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ b3.b.22-32 3bw.b.22-32 w b3wb..22-32 bw w w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ b&b.223-.w32 w bw w ww ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ 3w&.& w w bw ww w ∑∑ ∑∑ ∑∑ ∑∑ ∑∑ & w w bw w w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & ? w #w w {?? w w #w w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑∑ {{? ww w w #w w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ?{w w w #w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ { b.37-w42 w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ b.37-42 4b.37-42 w bw b4..3. 7-42 w bww b&.37-44w.2 w w w bww ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ 4&. w w w bw bww ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & w w w bww bww ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & w w w w w bw ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & w? w #w #wwbw bw w {? w ##w #ww bw w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ {? w #ww #ww bw w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ {? w w #ww w ?{w #w w #ww bw w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ { bb.97w-100 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ bb.97-100 5b.b.97-100w 5. w #b5wb..97-100w w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ b&b.97#5-w.100 w w w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ 5&. #w w w w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ #&w& w w ww w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & #w w ww ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ? w #w ##w #ww {? w #w #w nw w #ww ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ {? #w #ww w nw #ww ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ {? #ww w #w nw #ww ?{ #w #w w nw # w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ w #w w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ { bb.43w-46 nw bb.61-66 #w b1*b.43-46 bb.61-66 1b*b.43-46 w w 1b*b*.61-66 n w ˙ b1wb*.43-46 w w w b1b*.*61-66n w n w b˙ ˙ bb.431-w*46 w w w 1** n#ww w n w b˙ ˙ After& this,w new wsequencesw of dyadsbw are createdw bb.6 using11#-*w6*6 then# wfreelyw chosennw notesn ww andb ˙ ˙ 1&* w w bw w 1** #w n #ww w n w w b˙ &w& w bw w #w n w#w nwnw ww b˙ ˙ one of thew original sets of notes.bww An additional freely#ww #chosenw notew n wis then added. In & ? w #w #w bw w w #w w nw w {? w #w #w w w w W #W ∑ this{w? way the music#w eventually#w departsw fromw the notesW generated from#W the words ∑ {? #wW™ w #w #W ?{ #w W™ #w w #w W #W ∑ { ‘Private Eye’. W™ #w W #W ∑ bb.47-50 W™ #w bb.67-71 b2*b.47W-5™0 #w bb.67-71 2b*b.47-50 bw 2b*b*.67-71 b ˙ b˙ b2wb*.47-50 bw b2bw*.*67-71 b ˙ b˙ ˙ bb.47-w50 w w bw 2w** ˙ b˙ b ˙ b˙ n ˙ ˙ ˙ 2*w w w bw bb.672-*w7*1 w˙ b˙ b ˙ b˙ n ˙ ˙ b˙ ˙ 2&* w w w nwbw 2** w w˙ b˙b ˙ b˙ n w˙ ˙ b˙ ˙ w& w w nw w w˙ #w w˙ b˙ ˙ && w nw ˙ wb˙ #w n ˙ w b˙ ˙ & w nw w ##ww w ? #w w nw bW {? #w bWw™™ w #w nw bW #w ∑∑ {? #w bwW™ w #w wnw bW nW {? #w w bW™ w #w nw bW nW ∑ ?{#w w #w nw nW ∑ bW™ bW nW ∑ { w #w nW

46 bb.1-6, bb.12-16 1. & w w bw w w ∑ ∑ ∑ bbww nw w {? #ww w w w ∑ ∑ ∑

bb.7-11, bb.17-21 2. bb.1-6, bb.12-16 1. w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & ww w w w bw #w ∑ ∑ ∑ & w w #w bw w w w bw ? w bbww w nw w ww ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ { {? #ww w w w ∑ ∑ ∑ bb.22-32 b3b..7-11, bb.17-21 w 2w. bw w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & w w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & ww w w bw #w w #w w w ? w bww #w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ {{? w ww w w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ b.37-42 b4b..22-32 bww & 3ww. w bww w w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & w bww ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ bw w ? w #w #ww #w w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ {{? w w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ w bb.97-100 b5..37-42 w #4w. w Fig.& 16 Later variations of progressionww bw 1,w which appear∑ at bb.43∑ -46 and∑ bb.61-∑66. ∑ & w w w bw w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ Synthesiser notes are# againw highlighted in blue. ? w #w bnww #ww ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ {{? #ww #ww #ww w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ First variation of progression 1 Second variation of progression 1 bb.97-100 w w n w ˙ 5w. w w n w b˙ &#w w #w #w w w & wbw w∑ ∑ nw ∑ ∑ ∑ w w w ? #w ##ww w {? w #w #ww W #W ∑ { w nw ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ #w W™ #w

bw b ˙ b˙ w ww w w w n w ˙ ˙ w w ˙ nb˙ w n ˙ bb˙˙ ˙ Fig.&& 17 Later variations of progressionnw 2, which #appearw w #atw bb.47-w50 andw bb.67w -71. bw w #w nw w ? #ww #w w w w {? #w bW™ #w nw bW W #W ∑∑ First{ variation of progressionw 2 Second variation of progression 2 W™ #w nW

bw b ˙ b˙ w w w w b˙ n ˙ ˙ nw w˙ w b˙ ˙ & #w w w ? #w bW™ nw bW ∑ { w #w nW

There are also sections where the original note-sets are used freely in melodic material, for example at bb.33-35 and bb.51-59. Another feature is the fading repeated notes in the bassoon’s high register at b.86, b.88 and b.91, which provide moments of rhythmic regularity as a contrast to the rhythmic openness of the rest of the movement.

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4th Movement: Joust

This movement is based on a game called Joust, wherein the player is a bird who does battle with other birds, and sometimes a pterodactyl, against a backdrop of horizontal steps. Of the three games this is the one where combat is the most central, so the music is more jagged and buffeting than in the other movements. The synthesiser uses a kind of distortion called ‘bitcrusher’, which creates an aggressive timbre. The synthesiser also uses vibrato at a low speed during this movement, and is set to the sawtooth waveform throughout. The frequency cutoff is lowered sometimes, which reduces the intensity of the synthesiser sound and provides both relief and variation.

Again, the word ‘Joust’ is used to generate musical material: the corresponding numbers are 10 15 21 19 20, which gives the notes A D Ab F# G. These are divided into a stacked 4th pattern (A D G) and a chromatic pattern (F# G Ab) in the movement, as shown in fig.18 below:

J O U S T Fig?. 18 The ‘Joust’ bnoteœ -set#œ and œpatterns J Oœ U S T ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ? œ bœ #œ œ œ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

? œ œ #œ œ bœ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ? œ œ #œ œ bœ œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ œ

These? note-sets∑ permeate∑ the movement,∑ and can ∑be seen clearly∑ at the beginning∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ of? the coda ∑from bar 65 ∑(see fig.19):∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

? ? ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

48 ?? ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

?? ∑∑ ∑∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

?? ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

? ? ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

? ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ? ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

? ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ? ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

Fig. 19 Score extract showing bb.65-71, with the note-sets above present in the bassoon and synthesiser parts 5 65 q=q. . . #œ œ™ ° 6 j œ jœ 4 6 ™ œ Cl. &8 ∑ ∑ ‰ ‰bœ J ‰ ‰œ J 8 ∑ 8 ∑ Œ bœ j ‰ ‰ ‰ ‰ J bœ f . p bœ bœ ? 6 œ œ œ ‰ ‰ œ œ œ ‰ ‰ œ œ œ ‰ ‰ 4 œ œ ‰ 6 œ œ œ ‰ ‰ œ œ J ‰ ‰ œ œ J ‰ ‰ Bsn. ¢ 8 œ J œ J œ J 8 œ J 8 œ J œ nœ p mf

? 6 Œ™ #œ œbœ Œ™ #œ œbœ Œ™ #œ œbœ 4 Œ #œbœ 6 Œ™ #œ œbœ Œ™ #œ œbœ Œ™ Synth. { 8 8 8 #œ œbœ

The two also combine when the A-D-G note-set is shifted up and down by semitones (in the 7clarinet2 at bb.35-39), and the F#-G-Ab note-.set. .by fourths. . (in the bassoon. . . at . ° <#>œ#œ œ™ 4 6 j ™ #œ#œ œ 4 #œ œ 6 ™ #œ#œ œ ™ #œnœ#œ#œœ Cl. & J 8 Œ ‰bœ 8 œ œ œ ‰ Œ 8 Œ 8 Œ Œ b.27). The stacked fourths alsoJ seemed to fit with the game’s visuals, specifically the f p mf equidistant? horizontalœ œbœ ‰ ‰ 4 linesœ œ in‰ the6 background,œ œ bœ ‰ ‰ ‰ ‰that the player4 can6 jump onto. This Bsn. ¢ nœ J 8nœ J 8 œ J j 8 8 j ™ visual pattern is also reflected in the repeated arpeggiatedœ œ™ ˙ 5th dyadsœ™ whichœ firstœ ˙ mf p appear at b.18, and their ascending figure, which sounds like a swift upward leap. ? Œ™ 4 Œ 6 Œ™ bœ j ‰ ‰ 4 bœ ‰ 6 bœ j‰ ‰ œbœ j ‰ ‰ Synth. bœ 8 bœ 8 bœ bœ œ 8 bœ 8 bœ œ bœ œ { #œ œ #œ #œ œ œ œ J œ The syncopated rhythm that opens the movement was also derived from the number set above. Initially those numbers formed the time signatures that the rhythm was written around, though I later changed the time#œ. signatures to simpler ones for the 79 ...... ° ™ #œ #œ œ ™ #œ œ 4 #œ #œ 6 ™ #œ #œ #œ performers’Cl. & Œ convenience, while Œkeeping the rhythm the8 Œ same. The movement8 Œ ends nœ with a coda in 6/8, which uses similar pitch content to the rest of the movement but with more? consonance and ‰rhythmicŒ™ regularity,‰ ‰ endingj 4 the movement6 withj a Bsn. ¢ œ™ œ #œ 8 ˙ 8 œ #œ œ™ relatively calm mood. mf p bœ bœ ? bœ j ‰ ‰ bœ j ‰ ‰ 4 œ bœ J ‰ 6 œ bœ œ ‰ ‰ Synth. { bœ œ bœ œ 8 8 J œ œ

°83 ‰ ‰ j ‰ ‰ j ‰ ‰ ∑ ∑ Œ ‰ ‰ ‰ Cl. & #œ nœ #œ œ #œ. . . #œ. . . j œ #œ > œ f ? ‰ j ‰ ‰ Bsn. ¢ <#>˙™ ˙™ ˙™ ˙™ œ #œ >. f bœ bœ œ bœ bœ œ ? œ J ‰ ‰ œ J ‰ ‰ ‰ ‰ j ‰ ‰ ‰ Synth. { #œ œ™ ˙™ œ j 49 #œ >. f

5th Movement: Outro

The fifth movement is a reprise of the first: it uses the same note-set derived from the word ‘Atari’, C G C F Ab, and again is not based on one particular game. However, from the departure point of this note-set, it takes a different direction to the first movement. The first movement is designed to sound industrial and machine-like, and somewhat impersonal, while the final movement is meant to sound more emotional and positive. I imagined the final movement representing the closing credits of a video game: typically closing credit sequences will have accompanying music that sounds upbeat and relaxed, conveying a feeling of accomplishment once the game has been completed.

Accordingly, in this movement the notes are harmonised with various major (and sometimes minor) triads. Four of the five notes fit into the C major key, so the music mostly follows a C major pattern; though the Ab necessitates some departures from C major, in the form of mixture chords or brief forays into other keys.

Performance note: The version of the Games Suite included in this portfolio was composed for the synthesiser part to be played by two performers: one performing the notes and the other adjusting the parameters (envelope, waveform etc.). in this way, the piece allows for changes in the patch during passages that also require two hands to perform the notes (as for example on the recording of the performance of this piece, on the USB). A different version of the piece would be required if there were one performer, with the notes maintained but fewer parameter changes.

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4.4 CUBEMARSH

PROGRAMMATIC BACKGROUND

CubeMarsh is written for string orchestra and synthesiser. It is loosely influenced by 1980s science-fiction cinema and the natural surroundings of Collingwood in Golden Bay, and is intended to suggest both a natural landscape and a futuristic one. Accordingly, I wanted the title to feature both a geometric term and a natural landscape term. The piece is also influenced by the soundtrack of a Halloween special episode of The Simpsons,26 which I had always vividly remembered from childhood. The scene involved a digital fantasy landscape, and the accompanying score by Alf Clausen was synthesised but with a timbre resembling a string orchestra. These influences informed the general mood of the piece, though I wanted to compose the piece quite freely and intuitively, so the piece is semi- programmatic as a result.

STRUCTURE

Structurally the piece is through-composed, but could be seen as comprising four sections that run continuously into each other. The structure could be summarised as ABAvC, as the third section (Av) uses and develops material from section A, along with new material. There is also an introductory section with only the strings.

FORMAL ANALYSIS:

Intro (bars 1-44) A (bars 45-96) B (bars 97-153)

26 The Simpsons, season 7, episode 6 “Treehouse of Horror VI”, directed by Bob Anderson and David Mirkin, written by John Swartzwelder, Steve Tompkins and David S. Cohen, first aired on October 29th 1995, by the Fox Network.

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Av (bars 154-314) C (bars 315-343)

TIMBRAL ELEMENTS

For the most part the synthesiser and strings have a soloist/backing relationship, with the strings providing backup to the synthesiser’s more soloistic parts. However, the strings play on their own for portions of the piece, including the introduction, and in the ‘B’ section the strings are the focus while the synthesiser is mostly absent or in the background. The synthesiser part uses three patches: one monophonic lead patch and two polyphonic pad patches. They could be played on multiple synthesisers, or switching between them on one synthesiser, or using a keyboard controller connected to a laptop. The lead patch is used in sections A and Av; the pads in B and C. The patches I used when writing the piece on Logic Pro X are ‘analog lead’, ‘analog pad’ and ‘classic analog pad’, which are reminiscent of 1970s/1980s synthesisers; however, the intention is that the piece could be performed on any kind of synthesiser.

The synthesiser patches are varied throughout the piece in several ways. For example, the lead patch’s waveform is two-thirds sawtooth and one-third square in the section A, which helps create a tenser section; and completely square in section Av, the calmer section. (There is also an intermediary point in bb.189-192, where two of the three oscillators are set to square). In section B the frequency cut-off is varied in the pad, so that the aggressiveness of the timbre increases and decreases. This effect is commonly used in dance music, and in particular was inspired by the song ‘Neverland’ by The Knife.27 Glide is also used at the end of section B, when the synthesiser plays unaccompanied. Finally, in section Av the synthesiser lead plays parallel 12ths (an octave plus a perfect 5th), by raising the pitch on one of the three oscillators; this seems to suit the calmer mood of section Av.

27 ‘Neverland’, mp3 audio, track 2 on The Knife, Silent Shout, Rabid Records, 2006.

52 bb.107-116 ™ œ œ b˙ œ n˙™ 4#œ œ œ #œ œ ˙™ #œ œ œ bœ œ ‰ Œ #˙ Œ &4 J pizz. bbœ ? 4 ∑ ∑ Ó Œ #œœ ∑ ∑ ∑ 4 Ó Œ #bœœ

‰ œ™ œ™ #œ œ bœ œ ™ ™ j 5 œ #œ™ œ™ ‰ Œ & J J œ œ œ œ bœ 4 J bbœ pizz. arc™o ? bœ Œ Ó ∑ ∑ 5 Œ bbw˙ œ œ Œ Ó 4 Œ nw

4 & ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ 4 ? 4 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ 4

bb.130-143 4 j 2 4 &4 ‰ j j j Œ ∑ ∑ ∑ 4 ∑ 4 #œ #œ œ œ œ œ #œ™ œ™ œ œ #œ #œ™ ˙™ ? 4 #˙™ bœ œ ˙ bœ 2 4 4 ∑ ∑ ∑ Œ 4 ∑ 4 PITCH ELEMENTS

Overall, the pitch/harmonic content in this piece is meant to sound indefinite and 4 œ œ Œ Œ ‰ œ ˙™ Œ Œ œ 3œ Ó ‰ œ ˙™ ∑ open&-4ended; usuallybœ ˙ it is hardœ to define a Jtonal or modal area due to the ambiguous#œ œ ˙ J nature of the3 pitch collection. Frequently, there are not enough pitches from a mode, bœ œbœ ™ ™ œ™ j for? example,4 to ∑make it explicitŒ in theJ music.‰ Often‰#œ theœ soundingnœ ofœ a‰ smallŒ numberÓ ofÓ œ œ ‰ œ ˙ œ ‰ Ó 4 J J J J œ œ notes is intended to create the interest in and of itself, without suggesting a clear harmonic pattern. This approach was influenced by Morton Feldman’s music, in 2 3 1 2 6 3 1 3 j 6 4 4 2 particular/ œ the œpiece Rothkoœ œ Chapelœ , and˙™ contributesœ to the uncertainœ œ œand ominousœ ‰ Œ ˙™ œ œ ˙ œ mood of the piece.

6 6 3 j 3 j 6 3 j 2 1 1 6 2 The introductory˙™ sectionŒ features‰ œ ™a descendingœ™ minorœ thirdœ (Dœ-B) followedœ œ™ by a œ™ œ œ œ 5 œ œ ˙™ œ descending/ major third (D-Bb), and then a descending major 7th (F#-G), all in the 4 strings. At the beginning of section A, this pattern is shifted down a tone, beginning with an A and a C and continuing into an A-Ab4-G-E-F figure, with the C sustained. A minor& 7th dyad, Eb and Db,∑ then appears over2 the top (see fig.20). AgainÚ , the music Ú is meant to sound harmonically uncertain; it could be in C major with a chromatic passing? note, but this is then undercut with unexpected4 notes (the Eb and Db). ∑ 2 Ú Ú

Fig. 20 Main pitch content of section A

& Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú W b˙™ ? œ bœ œ œ œ b˙™ Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú

The synthesiser has a long melodic line in section A. The first time we hear it the mood is ominous; when it reappears in section Av it is identical but harmonised differently, entirely with open 5th chords, and the mood is calm. It emerges from the synth’s semiquaver runs with a prominent rising minor 10th (C-Eb), and later in the same phrase, the melody centres on E and F#. The intention was for the melody to

53

sound unpredictable by moving into unexpected areas; however, it could also be interpreted as fitting into an octatonic pattern.

In section B, the music uses similar melodic patterns to those established earlier: descending contours with prominent thirds and semitones. They are developed in several ways: they are used in canon, and they are also inverted around a centre of F#, appearing in ascending form as well as descending, first separately and then simultaneously. Finally, there is a variation in which the intervals are extended by a semitone, so that major thirds become perfect fourths, semitones become whole tones, etc (see fig.25). This suggests a sense of space opening up, perhaps moving from a claustrophobic environment into an open environment. The music becomes less tense, and more emotional.

The final section, section C, introduces two new themes in the low register: a wide- spaced one centred on F (see fig.21), and a close-spaced one centred on G (see 2 fig.22). This section returns the piece to an ominous mood, after the more peaceful ? 2 j ∑ ∑ 2 2 w ˙™ œœ™ œ ˙ œ œ˙ b˙™ bœ ww ww 2 sectionŒ Av. It closes with‰ Œ the‰ descendingJ Œ major‰ J 7th heard at the very beginning, and this time the notes are B and C, ultimately closing the piece on a C tonal centre. ? 2 j ˙™ ˙™ 2 w œ bœ™ œ Œ œ™ j j œ™ ∑ ∑ #œ™ œ œ œ ˙ œ ˙ Fig. 21 First theme of section C ? j j j ™ bœ ˙ œ j ™ b˙™ œ ™ Ó w œ bœ™ œ bœ ˙ œ™ w ˙ œ bœ™ œ b˙ œ bœ ˙ ˙

2Fig. 22 Second theme of section C ? 2 j ∑ ∑ 2 2 w ˙™ œœ™ œ ˙ œ œ˙ b˙™ bœ ww ww 2 Œ ‰ Œ ‰ J Œ ‰ J

? 2 j ˙™ ˙™ 2 w œ bœ™ œ Œ œ™ j j œ™ ∑ ∑ #œ™ œ œ œ ˙ œ ˙ While the piece doesn’t have a pre-planned tonal structure, C is the overriding tonal centre, as it is the centre of gravity in sections A and Av, and at the very end. The & ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ only consciously planned aspect of an overall tonal structure was for the introductory ? section to∑ be in a higher∑ key, before∑ unexpectedly∑ ∑moving into∑ a lower key∑ for the ∑ ∑

& ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

? ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ 54

main body of the piece. This was inspired by a convention sometimes used in hip- hop songs, such as Quality Control by Jurassic 528 and Chains by Che Fu.29

RHYTHMIC ELEMENTS

As with Collingwood 2080 and The Front Line 1970, the rhythm in this piece is mostly quite free and open; it is written to sound quasi-improvisational, even though it is precisely notated. This could be interpreted to suggest natural sound rhythms, or a sense of random chance and unpredictability. One rhythmic feature is the semiquaver runs in the synthesiser, such as in its first entry at b.51, which seemed to suit the science-fiction sound; they could be seen as representing objects flying through space, or calculations being made by machines, etc.

In the B section, the note durations are randomly generated. (The notes themselves are not; they use the pattern of minor thirds and semitones that features early in the piece, which is then expanded vertically. This is explained further under ‘pitch elements’). In keeping with the 1980s science-fiction theme of the piece, the note durations are generated using the main settings of the first three films in the Alien franchise: the spaceship ‘Nostromo’ in Alien, the moon ‘LV-426’ in Aliens, and the prison colony ‘Fiorina 161’ in Alien3. As shown below, these are converted into a sequence of numbers in the same way as in the Games Suite: the letters are converted to the corresponding numbers alphabetically (A is 1, B is 2, C is 3 and so forth), while the portions of those words that are numbers already (ie. 426 and 161) are maintained.

Nostromo LV-426 Fiorina 161 14 15 19 20 18 15 13 15 - 12 22 4 2 6 - 6 9 15 18 9 14 1 1 6 1

28 “Quality Control” and “Quality Control Intro,” mp3 audio, tracks 4 and 5 on Jurassic 5, Quality Control, Interscope Records, 2000. 29 “Chains,” mp3 audio, track 13 on Che Fu, 2.B.SPacific, BMG, 1998.

55 bb.107-116 ™ œ œ b˙ œ n˙™ 4#œ œ œ #œ œ ˙™ #œ œ œ bœ œ ‰ Œ #˙ Œ &4 J pizz. bbœ ? 4 ∑ ∑ Ó Œ #œœ ∑ ∑ ∑ 4 Ó Œ #bœœ

‰ œ™ œ™ #œ œ bœ œ ™ ™ j 5 œ #œ™ œ™ ‰ Œ & J J œ œ œ œ bœ 4 J Using the same method of modular arithmetic as in The Front Line 1970 a(seerco page bbœ pizz. b˙™ 3?6-3b7œ), thisŒ timeÓ with modulus 6, these∑ are then converted∑ to a set5 ofŒ numbersb w œ œ Œ Ó 4 Œ nw between one and six: 4 & ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ 4 2 3 1 2 6 3 1 3 - 6 4 4 2 6 - 6 3 3 6 3 2 1 1 6 1 ? ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ 4 4

This numberbb.130-143 sequence is then used to generate rhythmic patterns, with one unit 4 j 2 4 representing&4 ‰ j one quaver’s duration:j 1 is aj quaver,Œ 2 is a∑ crotchet, 3∑ is a dotted∑ 4 ∑ 4 #œ #œ œ œ œ œ #œ™ œ™ œ œ #œ #œ™ ˙™ crotchet,? 4 4 is a minim, etc. (see fig.23). This rhythmic#˙™ patternbœ isœ formed˙ bœ into a theme,2 4 4 ∑ ∑ ∑ Œ 4 ∑ 4 shown below in fig.24, wherein the three smaller sub-sets of numbers are separated by an accented pizzicato chord. (The final ‘1’ was later changed to a ‘2’, because a 4 œ œbœ ˙ œ Œ Œ ‰ œ ˙™ Œ Œ œ 3œ Ó ‰ œ ˙™ ∑ crotchet&4 seemed to fit betterJ aurally). #œ œ ˙ J 3 bœ œbœ ™ ? 4 ∑ Œ J ‰ ‰#œ™ œ™ nœ œ ‰ Œ Ó Ó œ œ œ ‰ œ ˙ œ j ‰ Ó 4 J J J J œ œ Fig. 23 Rhythm generated from number set

2 3 1 2 6 3 1 3 j 6 4 4 2 / œ œ œ œ œ ˙™ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ Œ ˙™ œ œ ˙ œ

6 6 3 j 3 j 6 3 j 2 5 1 1 6 2 / ˙™ Œ ‰ œ™ œ™ œ œ œ œ œ™ œ™ œ œ œ 4 œ œ ˙™ œ

4 & ∑ 2 Ú Ú

Fig.? 24 Main theme in section4 B, with rhythms randomly generated. First appears at bb.107-11∑6 2 Ú Ú bb.100-109. ™ œ œ b˙ œ n˙™ 4#œ œ œ#œ œ ˙™ #œ œ œbœ œ ‰ Œ #˙ Œ &4 J & Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú W pizz. bbœ ?œ4bœ b˙™ Ó Œ #œœ ? 4 œ œ œ∑b˙™ Ú ∑ Ú Ú Úb œ Ú ∑ Ú Ú∑ Ú ∑ Ú Ó Œ # œœ

‰ œ™ œ™ #œ œ bœ œ ™ ™ j 5 œ #œ™ œ™ ‰ Œ & J J œ œ œ œ bœ 4 J bbœ pizz. arc™o ? bœ Œ Ó ∑ ∑ 5 Œ bbw˙ œ œ Œ Ó 4 Œ nw

& ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ 56 ? ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

& ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ? ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

& ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ? ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

& ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ? ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ bb.107-116 ™ œ œ b˙ œ n˙™ 4#œ œ œ #œ œ ˙™ #œ œ œ bœ œ ‰ Œ #˙ Œ &4 J pizz. bbœ ? 4 ∑ ∑ Ó Œ #œœ ∑ ∑ ∑ 4 Ó Œ #bœœ

‰ œ™ œ™ #œ œ bœ œ ™ ™ j 5 œ #œ™ œ™ ‰ Œ & J J œ œ œ œ bœ 4 J

bbœ pizz. arc™o ? bœ Œ Ó ∑ ∑ 5 Œ bbw˙ œ œ Œ Ó 4 Œ nw

4 & ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ 4 Fig. 25 Variation of theme with each interval expanded by a semitone. Appears at ? 4 bb.130-143∑ . ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ 4

bb.130-143 4 j 2 4 &4 ‰ j j j Œ ∑ ∑ ∑ 4 ∑ 4 #œ #œ œ œ œ œ #œ™ œ™ œ œ #œ #œ™ ˙™ ? 4 #˙™ bœ œ ˙ bœ 2 4 4 ∑ ∑ ∑ Œ 4 ∑ 4

4 œ œ œ ˙™ œ 3 œ ™ &4 bœ ˙ œ Œ Œ ‰ J Œ Œ œ#œ œ ˙ Ó ‰ J ˙ ∑ 3 bœ œbœ ™ ? 4 ∑ Œ J ‰ ‰#œ™ œ™ nœ œ ‰ Œ Ó Ó œ œ œ ‰ œ ˙ œ j ‰ Ó 4 J J J J œ œ

2 3 1 2 6 3 1 3 j 6 4 4 2 / œ œ œ œ œ ˙™ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ Œ ˙™ œ œ ˙ œ

6 6 3 j 3 j 6 3 j 2 5 1 1 6 2 / ˙™ Œ ‰ œ™ œ™ œ œ œ œ œ™ œ™ œ œ œ 4 œ œ ˙™ œ

4 & ∑ 2 Ú Ú ? 4 ∑ 2 Ú Ú

& Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú W b˙™ ? œ bœ œ œ œ b˙™ Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú Ú

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4.5 SERIALOGUE

PROGRAMMATIC BACKGROUND

Serialogue is the shortest piece composed for this portfolio, at roughly four and a half minutes, and the only one to be written entirely for synthesisers, without acoustic instruments. The piece uses analogue synthesiser sounds that are reminiscent of the 1970s and 1980s, outlined below, and has a mysterious and ominous mood. The title is a combination of the words “analogue” and “serial”, as the piece uses the 12-tone system known as serialism. The biggest influence on the piece is Wendy Carlos’s score for the 1980 film The Shining, which inspired the timbre and atmosphere of this piece (but not the compositional structure). The piece doesn’t have any programmatic content, but was built more around the atmosphere and serial techniques.

Being the only piece in the portfolio without acoustic instruments, Serialogue is the furthest removed from the natural sound world, and probably the darkest and most intimate. The purely electronic timbre could thus be interpreted as representing an inward-looking and psychological sound-world. However, as with most of the other pieces I also used the synthesiser to convey open space and natural scenery in places, specifically the stacked-interval chords in the synthesiser pad, which are discussed further under “pitch content”.

STRUCTURE

The piece uses two chaconnes, one that opens the piece and runs for five cycles, and another that appears near the end and runs for two cycles. Both are serial. In between is a section where the lower register drops out (section ‘B’). Initially the higher-register parts that surround the chaconnes were to move through a variety of moods and styles while the bass remained consistent, and the piece was to be longer in duration. However, in the end I used a similar serial style for the other parts

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throughout the piece, with a fairly consistent mood. Below, the ‘A’ represents each cycle of the first chaconne, and ‘C’ represents each cycle of the second.

FORMAL ANALYSIS: A (bars 1-19) A (bars 20-39) A (bars 40-58) A (bars 59-77) A (bars 78-99) B (bars 100-120) C (bars 121-139) C (bars 140-159)

TIMBRAL ELEMENTS

The piece is for four live synthesisers, using the patches on Logic Pro X called “70s analog lead”, “Analog lead”, “Analog moog lead” and “Analog pad”. The piece isn’t intended to only be performed using these patches; it could be performed using other patches, though three monophonic lead parts and one polyphonic pad is necessary, and the use of analogue sounds is preferable. The patches all remain fixed throughout the piece; they do not change as they do in most of the other pieces in the portfolio.

PITCH CONTENT

The chaconne that opens the piece uses a 12-note row, “row 1”, shown below in fig.26. It is played by the 70s analog lead. Though it is serial, it is slow-moving and creates the effect of constant modulation.

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Fig. 26 All 12-tone rows used in the piece

Row 1 Chaconne in bb.1-97 bœ œ bœ nœ œ & œ œ bœ nœ œ #œ #œ

Row 1 retrograde inversion (transposed down a tone) Analog lead melody, bb.20-40, 78-98 2 bœ nœ œ nœ #œ bœ œ œ #œ #œ & nœ nœ

Row 2 3 Moog lead melody, bb.40-59, 78-97 œ œ œ #œ bœ & nœ #œ #œ nœ bœ œ nœ

Row 1 retrograde 4 bb.100-119, 121-153 œ nœ bœ œ bœ & #œ #œ œ œ bœ œ nœ

Row 2 retrograde inversion 5 Chaconne in bb.121-159 nœ bœ #œ œ & #œ nœ œ œ nœ bœ nœ #œ

The first melodic theme appears at b.20, after one cycle of the chaconne, on the analog lead. It uses the retrograde-inversion of row 1, but transposed down a tone, and with shorter note durations. It isn’t strictly serial as there are times when the last two notes played are repeated, for instance at bb.30-32 and bb.37-40. The second melodic theme enters at b.40, over the third run of the chaconne, played by the analog moog lead. It is also serial but uses a new row, “row 2”. On the fifth run of the chaconne at bb.78-99, these two themes play together over the top, so that the music builds dramatically as existing ideas accumulate. While the individual parts are serial, when they combine they form chords that are fairly consonant, if a bit unusual or unexpected. The use of serialism in this piece therefore doesn’t completely move

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4 the music74 away from centres of gravity or pitch hierarchies, but rather helps to create ? unexpectedAnalog. { ˙modulations˙ w or chords that I mightw not have thought ofw using otherwise. f

∑ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ForM oexample,og. {& the scoreœœ excerptœ œœœ overleafœœœ œœ œ(fig.œ 27)œœ showsœœœ œ œa œsectionœœœ whereœœœ œ threeœœ œ ofœœ theœœ œ o p o serial lines combine for the first time: two of the most prominent resulting triads are outlined, and when viewed in isolation they can be interpreted as an F#maj9 chord & ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ (without the 3rd or 5th) and an Amaj7 chord (without the 3rd). Pad. ˙ ˙ w w w ? ˙ w w { mf Fig. 27 Score excerpt showing bars 78-101, and select chords in isolation. 78 œ™ œ #˙ œb˙™ ˙ Ó ‰ J œ™ ˙ ˙ Ó bw œ ˙™ w 70s. {& o ff o f ? ˙™ w œ b˙™ w w Analog. { #w ˙™ nœ w œ p mf f ‰ Moog. {& j œ™ ˙ ˙ œ™ œ ˙™ œ w ˙™ œ w #˙ ˙ w o œ™ f p f ? œ™ ‰ Ó ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ Pad. { p 86 ˙™ #œ #˙™ œ ˙ j œ™ ˙ œ™ j ‰ Ó 70s. {& ˙ ˙ œ œ w œ™ p o ? n˙™ œ w #w w ˙ Analog. { #w b˙ w p f p

3 j ™ j Moog. {&<#>w w ˙ #œ w ˙ œ œ w ˙ #œ ˙ œ™ p f mf

93 <#>w ˙ œ™ œ w œ#œ™ ˙ w w J J ∑ 70s. {& ˙ ˙ w f poco dim. molto dim. a niente o ff ? Œ Ó ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ Analog. { ˙™ œ œ ˙™ w w œ mf bœ ˙™ Œ Ó ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ Moog. {& œ b˙ œ ˙ œ™ J œ w œ f mp

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& bw ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ {? bw ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

2 #w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ & ##w &∑w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ? #w ? { { ∑w ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

The sparse#w ‘B’ section begins at b.100, where the chaconne drops out for the first ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ time.& Thew 1970s analog lead, and later the analog lead, play the retrograde of row 1 solo in the high register, eventually accompanied by the pad. This section is more ? peaceful{ w than the rest of the∑ piece, as the∑ the ominous∑ low-register sounds∑ of the ∑ bass parts are absent. After this is section ‘C’, built around a new chaconne in the analog pad, which uses the inversion of row 2. A new melody is played over the top, again using the retrograde of row 1, but transposed down a tone as it was in the ‘A’ section. On the second run of this chaconne at bb.140-159, this melody is accompanied by a harmony in the moog lead; this harmony is also serial but unrelated to the existing rows. Again, the drama and tension build as new parts are added, reaching a climax at bb.157-8 with all four parts present, playing between them a B half diminished chord, and ending several bars later with a solitary high- register A in the Analog Lead.

At bb.58-77 (in the fourth ‘A’ section) and bb.106-120 (in the ‘B’ section) the analog pad plays chords to accompany the lead parts, built on stacked intervals; like the lead parts these sound atmospheric and mysterious, but calmer. At bb.58-77 the chords are a sequence of seven dyads, with every note of the chromatic scale used, and B and C# used twice. In bb.106-120 the chords are four triads, with no notes repeated; though again the serial quality does not necessarily sound obvious to the listener, as the chords are spaced out over a fairly long duration.

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RHYTHMIC ASPECTS

Serialism is applied to the use of rhythm as well in places, in that the note durations also do not repeat for some of the chaconnes and melodies. In these cases, the note-durations are usually between one and twelve crotchets in length, with each duration used once. As a result, the piece rhythmically sounds open and free- flowing, and the metre and pulse aren’t clearly discernible; though it is almost entirely in complete time except for one 3/2 bar. Another feature of the piece is the fast semiquaver “runs” of repeated notes that fade in and out of silence, similar to the ones used in Collingwood 2080. These appear in the fourth ‘A’ section and the second ‘C’ section, and provide a contrast to the long sustained notes that make up most of the piece.

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4.6 VOYAGER CONCERTO

OVERVIEW

The ‘Voyager Concerto’ is for synthesiser and orchestra. The concerto is space- themed, with the title referring to the Voyager spacecrafts: two crafts launched by NASA in August and September of 1977, with the aim of photographing the solar system before travelling further into deep space with a sample of artefacts from earth. The concerto was not written for a specific brand of synthesiser and could be played on multiple kinds; however, it was composed using synthesiser sounds that are reminiscent of the 1970s, the decade that the Voyager was launched. These sounds are also reminiscent of science-fiction TV/film soundtracks of this era, such as Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Doctor Who, Buck Rogers in the 25th Century, etc.

The concerto is in seven movements, all fairly short, ranging from 1:22 to 5:21. I conceived the structure as resembling that of an album, rather than a classical concerto structure; in particular I thought of progressive rock albums with seven tracks or thereabouts, for example Rush’s Moving Pictures30 and Dream Theatre’s Six Degrees of Inner Turbulence31. The synthesiser’s patch differs from movement to movement, so that each movement has a distinct synthesiser sound. For example, the second movement uses an arpeggiator, and the fourth uses a staccato sound with a delay effect, while other movements use a more standard lead patch.

List of movements: I. The Void (4:23) II. The Wonder (3:28) III. Cosmic Dust (5:21) IV. Photons (2:08)

30 Rush, Moving Pictures, Anthem Records, 1981 31 Dream, Theatre, Six Degrees of inner Turbulence, Elektra Records, 2002

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V. Transmission (2:51) VI. Glass Nebula (3:15) VII. The Void (reprise) (1:22) Total: 23min approx.

MOVEMENT 1: THE VOID

The first movement features only the synthesiser and strings. It has an ominous mood, evoking the size and emptiness of space, and the fear that one would realistically feel in that environment. It opens with the strings playing a series of sustained chords (see fig.28), beginning with an A-C dyad and moving outward chromatically, to G#-Db and so on (though not always following that pattern strictly), and finishing on a C major chord with an added 4th. After one cycle the chord sequence is repeated, this time with the synthesiser entering and adding an additional sustained note to each chord (see fig.29), usually an unexpected one that does not form a conventional major or minor triad with the existing notes. The intention was for the synthesiser’s first appearance in the concerto to be quiet and gradual, slipping in ‘under the radar’ rather than making a grand entrance. concerto mvmt 1 - harmonies concerto mvmt 1 - harmonies Fig. 28 Opening chord sequence 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #œ 10 bw w ww bww Ó & w1 bw2 nw3 w4 5 6 w7 w8 9 œ nw1w0 w ww b w Ó #œ Piano & w w bw w w œ nww ? ww bwbw wnw bww ww w Ów ˙ ˙w b˙ bbw Piano{ b w w n œ b w ? w bw w bww ww w ˙ ˙w b˙ n œ bbw { Ó b w w nnœœ b w

(synth notes in blue) Fig.(sy 129nth nFirstotes 2i nrepeat blue) b3w of chord4 sequence5 withb6ww added7 synthesiser8 notes in 9blue 10 œ bw w ww b bw˙ n˙ ##˙˙ #œ œ & 1 bw2 bw3w w4 b 5w 6 w7 ww8 ˙9 œ nww10#œ œ œ bww b w nw nw bww w b˙ n˙ # ˙ #œ Pno. bw bbww w ww bww # ˙ œ #œ & ww bww wnw b ww w ww bw˙ œ nww œ {? b w wnw ww w Ó ˙ ˙ b˙ bb w w Pno. b w w bw w b w w nnœœ bw {? w ww w Ó ˙ ˙ b˙ bb w w nnœœ b w

3+6 1+4 2+5 ww 9+10 3+6 w & w1+4 bw2+5 bnwww 9+10 w w ww Pno. bwbw bnww w &#www bnww ww {? nw bbwww bbww Pno. #www bnbwbww bnww b nww {? nw bbww bbw 65 w bw bnww b nww

The second cycle of the chords is temporarily interrupted halfway through by another section, at bb.41-48, in which the strings play tremolo and the synthesiser plays with wide fast vibrato. This section too is meant to sound ominous, but in a more busy and turbulent way. The vibrato width is varied, so that the synthesiser part sometimes has discernible pitch and other times is just noise, and makes gradual transitions between the two. When the music returns to the chord cycle, the synthesiser part becomes slightly more motivic, and makes use of the pitch bend, adding a more tense and ominous sound to this repeat.

Following this is an elongated version of the vibrato/tremolo passage, where the tremolo chords are created by combining the chords of the opening progression. The movement then ends with the synthesiser playing solo, with a variation of its earlier material. The movement thus reaches a chaotic apex before ending in a calm mood. This passage provides a contrast to the rest of the movement in its rhythmic regularity, which is also evocative of the regular mechanical or cyclical movements of objects in space, such as the orbit of a planet or a series of meteors.

The rhythm in this movement is organised so as to suggest free timing, with the metre usually not clearly discernible, reflecting the open and uncontrolled quality of deep space. The exception is the passage at bb.71-102 where a tremolo chord fades in and out once each bar, and the strings gradually move out of phase with each other. Otherwise the note durations in this movement were chosen intuitively, not with the use of systems.

FORMAL ANALYSIS: A (bars 1-28) A/B/A (bars 29-40/41-48/49-65) B (bars 66-104) A (bars 105-127)

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MOVEMENT 2: THE WONDER

In contrast to the foreboding atmosphere of the first movement, this movement’s mood is intended to be more positive, with a sense of awe and wonderment, and suggesting fast travel through space. I thought of this movement as resembling the kind of soundtrack that might accompany a space-themed film or TV show aimed at children, where the emphasis is on adventure and enjoyment. This contrasts with the more threatening atmosphere of space as often portrayed in more adult-oriented space films. Again, the mood of 1970s and 1980s film and television provided inspiration, matching the particular synthesiser sounds that I used.

In this movement the synthesiser uses an arpeggiator throughout, holding chords that play in an arpeggiated pattern: mostly with the “up and down” contour but sometimes in random order. The waveform switches between saw and square at various points in the movement. The opening chord progression is shown in figure 30 below:

Fig. 30 Opening chord progression b w b w bww bw bb ww ? bb ww bb ww nww # w nbww bww #w #ww b w n w w & n# w #w

w w b w bb ww When? bb nthisbww progressionw bb bwww is repeatednww atb #bb.30w -51, anb b nadditionalwww bnotebww wis added‹#w tow each## www b w n w b w w & #n w # w chord, so that the chords are now as shown in figure 31 below (with the added notes highlighted in blue): w bw bb ww ? bbbww bb bww nww #bww nbww bww #w #ww b w n w w & n# w #w Fig. 31 First repeat of opening chord progression, with added notes w w b w bb ww ? bbnbwww bb bwww nww b #w b bnwww bbwww ‹#ww ##www b w n w b w w & #n w # w

The movement opens with the synthesiser unaccompanied, before the woodwinds appear and provide accompaniment, and later the rest of the orchestra. The other

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instruments mostly play staccato notes, to match the arpeggiator’s sound. Initially they play short gestures of repeated notes, but later in the movement they also play the same pitch pattern as the arpeggiator, with a rising and falling shape that assembles bit-by-bit between multiple instruments. Finally, in bb.94-96 the orchestra plays the entire arpeggiator pattern unaccompanied by the synthesiser (shown in fig.32 below). Here the fragments of the pattern are built up with various parallel intervals: 4ths in the oboes, minor 3rds in the horns, 5ths in the bassoon and tuba, etc, to vary and develop the sound of the arpeggio pattern.

Fig. 32 Arpeggiator pattern taken up by the orchestra, bb. 94-96. (stave placements are rearranged to better illustrate the rising/falling contour) bb.94-96 œb œnœ œ œ . œb œnœ œ œ . ° ##œœ bœ œ œ œœ ##œœ bœ œ œ œœ Flutes & Ó ∑ Ó

Ó #œœbbœ nœ œ œœ. ∑ #œœbbœ nœ œ œœ. Ó Oboes ¢& # œœ œœ # œœ œœ . . #œœ bœ œœ #œœ bœ œœ Trumpets & Œ ‰ # œœb œ ≈ œœ ‰ Œ Œ ‰ # œœb œ ≈ œœ ‰ Œ bœœ œ nbœnœ œœ œnbœnœ j j Œ ≈ #œ ‰ ‰ œ Œ Œ ≈ #œ ‰ ‰ nœ Œ Clarinets & œ bœœ# œ. œœ nbœ œ bœ nœbœœ # œ. œœnbœ œ #œ œ œb œ. n œ œ# œ. ° Horns & Œ Ó Œ Œ Ó Œ #œ œnbœœ bœ œ #œ œ œnœœ bœ œ #œ # œ # œ œ œ # œ œ ? œ bœ j nœ bœ Trombones ∑ ‰ ≈bœb œœ #œœœ ‰ Œ Ó ‰ ≈b œb œœ #œœ ¢ R œ# œœœ. R œ# œœ b œ. b œ. ? œ bœ nœ bœ ‰ Ó Ó bœ nœ bœ œ bœ ‰ Ó Ó Bassoon/Tuba ##œœb œb œ J b œn œb œbœ J

FORMAL ANALYSIS: A (bars 1-23) Linking section (bars 23-29) A (bars 30-52) A development (bars 53-70) B (bars 71-96) Outro (bars 97-103)

68

MOVEMENT 3: COSMIC DUST

This movement features the woodwinds prominently, in the same way that the first movement uses only the strings; though in this case, the other sections of the orchestra aren’t completely absent. The flute, clarinet and oboe each have a long melodic theme (see fig.33), and each is doubled by the synthesiser, with a different waveform for each instrument. The flute is paired with the triangle waveform, the clarinet with square, and the oboe with saw; these seemed to match the timbres of the instruments best. The intention is for the timbres to meld together when playing in unison, but to be distinguishable when their parts start to separate later, as in also Theme 1: flute/triangle theme done in- ™Collingwood- 2080. This isœ ™the˙ longest˙™ and calmest movement of the 2#˙ Œ ˙™ Œ b˙-™ Œ ‰ Œ Ó Œ ˙ ˙ Ó concerto&2 . #œ ˙ #˙ œ ˙™ ˙ ™ ™ ™ TÓhemeŒ 1:œ flutew/triangleŒ th˙em™ e bw œ™ ‰ ‰ œ ˙ bœ œ ˙ bœ™ œ ˙ œ™ #œ ˙ ˙™ Œ & - œ™ ˙ ˙™ J Fig.2 3#3˙ ™The three˙-™ main- themes™ of ‘Cosmic Dust’ ˙ ˙ J &2 Œ Œ b˙ Œ ‰ Œ Ó Œ #œ ˙ ™ Ó Theme 1: flute/triangle theme #˙ œ ˙ ˙ - œ™ ˙ ˙™ 2#˙™ ˙-™ -™ ˙ ˙ 2 &&2 Œ Œ b˙ Œ ‰ ™ Œ ∑ Ó™ Œ #œ ˙™ Ó 2 Ó Œ œ w Œ ˙™ bw œ™ ‰ ‰ œ ˙ bœ œ ˙ bœ™ œ ˙#˙ œ™ œ#œ˙˙™ ˙™ Œ & J J Theme 2: clarinet/square theme ™ ™ ™ 2Ó Œ œb˙ w Œœ ˙™ bw œ™ ‰ ‰bœœ ˙ bœ œj ˙ bœ™ œ ˙ œ™ #œ ˙ ˙™ Œ & ˙ bœ™ ˙ Œ J Œ Œ ‰ &2 J -˙ œ œ™ ˙ œ J j2 & ∑ bœ 2 b˙™ œ bœ ˙ Theme 2: clarinet/square tœheme ∑J bw œ bœ™ œ 2 && j ‰ Œ Œ b˙ œ ‰ ‰ J J ‰ Œ 2 2 ˙ b˙ œ Œ bœ j Œ ŒJ ‰ &2˙ œ J bœ™ ˙ ˙ œ œ™ ˙ œ j Theme 2: clarinet/square theme - bœ 2 ˙ b˙ œ bœ™ ˙ Œ bœ j Œ Œ ‰ 2 &&2 J b˙™ ∑˙œ bœœ ˙œ™ ˙ œ j 2 ‰ Œ Œ œ -J ‰ ‰ J bw œ bœ™ œ ‰ Œ & j b˙ œ J J bœ ˙ œ b˙™ œ bœ ˙ ‰ Œ Œ œ J ‰ ‰ J bw œ bœ™ œ ‰ Œ & j b˙ œ J J ˙ œ ∑ 2 & Theme 3: oboe/saw theme 2 œ ˙ ˙™ œ b˙ œ ˙ œ™ B˙™ 2 œ™ j œ bœ œ™ ‰ nœ™ J ‰ Œ 23 &&2 œ œ œ œ œ ∑ 24

Theme 3: obobeœ/saw theme œ™ ˙ #œ™ œ 3 ∑ 2 œ#œ ˙œ œ ˙™ œ œ b˙J œ™ ˙ œ œ ˙ œj™ B˙j ™ &24 ™ j 2 J J bœ œ™ nœ™ bœJ œ™ œ ˙ œ 3 &2 œ œ œ œ ‰ ‰ Œ œ™ 4 Themœe 3œ: oboe/sa3w theme œ œ ˙ ˙™ œ b˙ œ ˙ œ™ B˙™ 2 ™ j bœ œ™ nœ™ J 3 &2 œ œ œ œ ‰ ‰ Œ 44 & œ œ bœ œ™ œ ˙ #œ™ ∑œ 4 3 ∑ 2 #œ œ œ œ J œ™ ˙ œ bœ œ™ j j &4 2 J J œ ˙ œ œ™ bœ 3 œ™ ˙ #œ™ œ 3 ∑ 2 #œ œ œ œ J œ™ ˙ œ bœ œ™ j j &4 Themes 1 &2 2 combined,J bb.142-149 J œ ˙ œ œ™ 3 j ∑ 4 & 4 3 ‰ Œ 4 Œ Œ j 5 Œ 4 &4 ˙ #œ œ 4 œ 4 #œ œ #œ™ 4 œ ˙ œ™ bœ™ ˙ ™ œ #œ ˙ 69#˙ ˙∑ #œ #œ œ 4 & “‘ 4 Themes 1 & 2 combined, bb.142-149 ∑ 4 &4 3 j 4 5 4 &4 ˙ œ 4 ‰ œ Œ 4 Œ #œ œ Œ j 4 Œ Them#œes 1 &œ 2 co˙mbined, bb.1œ4™2-149 œ #œ™ #œ ˙ #˙ Themes 1 & 3 combined, bb.150b-1œ5™5 ˙ ˙™ #œ #œ œ B˙™ 4 œ 3œ ˙ j œ™ œ bœ 4œ ‘ ™ 5 4 œ˙ bœœœ ‰ œ bœ Œ “ œ Œ œ #œ™ ˙ ∑Œ 5 j Œ ŒŒ &&44 #œ œ 4 ˙ ™ 4J J œ #œ œ #œ™ #4œ 4 ˙ œJ bœ™ ˙ ˙™ #œ #˙ 4 & ∑ #œ œ 4 f p f “‘ p 4 & Themes 1 & 3 combined, bb.150-155 ∑ B˙™ 44 & œ ˙ œ™ œ 4 4 œ œ bœ œ bœ bœ œ œ™ œ #œ™ ˙ ∑ 5 Œ Œ &4 J J 4 Themes 1 & 3 combined, bb.1J50-155 B˙™ f pœ ˙ œ™ œ f p 4 œ œ bœ œ bœ bœ œ œ™ œ #œ™ ˙ ∑ 5 Œ Œ &4 J J 4 J 4 & f p f ∑ p 4 4 & ∑ 4

Each of the three themes is meant to sound fairly ambiguous harmonically, so that there are a number of different ways they can be harmonised. Every time they are repeated, they are harmonised differently, and usually not in the most obvious ways; for example, there are major or minor triad patterns suggested in each of the themes, but whenever a bass note is introduced beneath them it is a note that does not belong to that triad. The D major triad outlined at the start of theme 1 is first accompanied by F and G in the bass (at bb.48-52), the Ab major triad of theme 2 by F and E (at bb.70-72), and the E minor triad of theme 3 by C# (at bb.81-83).

When the themes are first played, they are unaccompanied. The second time, the flute theme is accompanied by legato strings, the clarinet theme by the conical-bore brass instruments (tuba and horns), and the oboe theme by pizzicato strings and timpani. On the second repeat, the note durations of each theme are diminished, so that each theme is roughly half its original length; the speed-up adds variation and increased urgency. At this point, motives from some themes are used to accompany other themes, leading to a more cohesive and integrated texture. The synthesiser and its accompanying wind instruments also start to separate more, and the second flute, clarinet and oboe are all introduced, allowing for more harmonisation.

Finally, in the fourth iteration, the themes are combined together into three “hybrid” forms (see fig.34), with each possible combination of two of the three treble wind instruments: flute/clarinet, flute/oboe and clarinet/oboe. Along with these instrumental combinations, the synthesiser combines its waveforms accordingly (half-triangle, half-square for the flute/clarinet theme, and so on), and the melodies themselves are also combined. The movement ends with a quiet and sparse return to the opening theme, with the flute and synthesiser: this time they play a variation where the theme is inverted, and each interval is also diminished by a semitone. First, they are in unison, then harmonise with the flute playing the original version of the theme, while the synthesiser plays the inverted/diminished version. This rounds off the movement and also creates a fading effect.

70 Theme 1: flute/triangle theme -™ - œ™ ˙ ˙™ 2#˙ Œ ˙™ Œ b˙-™ Œ ‰ Œ Ó Œ ˙ ˙ Ó &2Theme 1: flute/triangle theme #œ ˙ #˙ œ ˙™ ˙ #˙-™ - œ™ ˙ ˙™ 2 Œ ˙™ Œ b˙-™ Œ ‰ Œ Ó Œ ˙ ˙ Ó &2 œ™ ˙™ #œ ˙™ #˙ œ ˙™ ˙ Ó Œ œ w Œ ˙™ bw œ™ ‰ ‰ bœ œ bœ™ œ ˙ œ™ #œ ˙ ˙™ Œ & J J œ™ ˙™ ˙™ Ó Œ œ w Œ ˙™ bw œ™ ‰ ‰ bœ œ bœ™ œ ˙ œ™ #œ ˙ ˙™ Œ & J J 2 & ∑ 2 2 & Theme 2: clarinet/square theme ∑ 2 2 ˙ b˙ œ Œ bœ j Œ Œ ‰ &2 J bœ™ ˙ ˙ œ œ™ ˙ œ j Theme 2: clarinet/square theme - bœ 2 ˙ b˙ œ bœ j &2 J bœ™ ˙ Œ ˙ œ Œ Œ ‰ j b˙™ -œ bœ ˙œ™ ˙ œ ‰ Œ Œ œ J ‰ ‰ J bw œ bœ™ œ ‰ Œbœ & j b˙ œ J J ˙ œ b˙™ œ bœ ˙ ‰ Œ Œ œ J ‰ ‰ J bw œ bœ™ œ ‰ Œ & j b˙ œ J J ˙ œ 2 & ∑ 2 2 & ∑ 2

Theme 3: oboe/saw theme œ ˙ ˙™ œ b˙ œ ˙ œ™ B˙™ 2 œ™ j œ bœ œ™ ‰ nœ™ J ‰ Œ 3 &2Themeœ 3: œoboœe/saw theme œ œ 4 œ ˙ ˙™ œ b˙ œ ˙ œ™ B˙™ 2 œ™ j œ bœ œ™ ‰ nœ™ J ‰ Œ 3 &2 œ œ œ œ œ 4 In this movementbœ the synthesiserœ™ ˙has a high#œ™ releaseœ value, so that each note rings 3 ∑ 2 #œ œ œ œ J œ™ ˙ œ bœ œ™ j j &4 2 J J œ ˙ œ œ™ on and blends withbœ the followingœ™ note.˙ This ™creates an effect where additional 3 2 #œ3 œ œ œ #œ œ œ™ ˙ œ j j &4 ∑ 2 J bœ œ™ harmonies are created, althoughJ this wasJ unplanned and unforeseen, so theseœ ˙ œ œ™ 3 4 & ∑ 4 harmonies were not consciously constructed. ∑ 4 & 4 Themes 1 & 2 combined, bb.142-149 Fig.34 Hybrid forms of the themes 4 3 ‰ j Œ 4 Œ Œ j 5 Œ &4 T˙hem#eœs 1œ & 2 c4ombined, œbb.142-149 4 #œ œ #œ™ 4 œ ˙ œ™ bœ™ ˙ ˙™ œ #œ ˙ #˙ 4 3 j 4 #œ #œ œ 5 &4 ˙ œ 4 ‰ œ Œ 4 “‘ Œ #œ œ Œ ™ j 4 Œ #œ œ ˙ œ™ bœ™ ˙ ™ œ #œ #œ ˙ #˙ ˙ ∑ #œ #œ œ 4 & “‘ 4 4 & Themes 1 & 3 combined, bb.150-155 ∑ 4 ™ B˙™ 4 œ œ ˙ œ œ bœ œ œ™ œ #œ™ ˙ 5 &4 œ bœ œ bœ J ∑ 4 Œ Œ Themes 1 & 3 combined, bb.1J50-155 J B˙™ œ ˙ œ™ œ p 4 fœ œ bœ œ p bœ bfœ œ œ™ œ #œ™ ˙ ∑ 5 Œ Œ &4 J J 4 2 J f p f ∑ p 4 & Themes 2 & 3 combined, bb.156-161 4 ™ #œ #œ ™ ™ bœ œ œ œ œ bœ œ ™ j bœ œ bœ™ bœ ˙ œ™ ™ 4 &4 #œ œ J œ ∑ ‰ bœ ˙ Œ 4 &4 J bœ J J 3

FORMAL ANALYSIS: A (bars 1-21) B (bars 22-33) C (bars 34-47 A (bars 48-69 B (bars 70-80 C (bars 81-94 A (bars 95-114 B (bars 115-129 C (bars 130-140 A*B (bars 141-148 A*C (bars 149-154 B*C (bars 155-161 A’ (bars 162-178)

71

MOVEMENT 4: PHOTONS

This movement features the brass alongside the synthesiser; the only other instrument used is the timpani. The synthesiser uses a delay effect set to a high frequency, so that each note echoes and gradually fades in a semiquaver pattern. Most of the synthesiser’s notes are staccato, but it also plays long sustained notes at times; in both cases the brass instruments follow suit, imitating what the synthesiser is doing. The mood of this movement is detached and intended to evoke a scientific attitude through music. It represents an astrophysical process of some kind working itself through, without human presence. I chose the title ‘photons’ because the bright staccato sound of the synthesiser in this movement seemed reminiscent of light or electricity particles.

The synthesiser’s long main theme opens the movement (see fig.35); it uses a motif of three descending staccato notes, then expanded to four notes, with perfect and augmented fourths used often. The brass is absent at first, and is brought in gradually, imitating the delay effect and playing continuous semiquavers that fade gradually. At first the brass instruments only play notes already present in the synthesiser part before branching out to include other notes. Eventually the whole brass ensemble plays chords that gradually assemble from the high-register instruments to the low-register ones, starting with whatever note is ringing on in the synthesiser but gradually moving into more distant harmonic territory as the lower- register instruments enter (shown in fig.36 below). These chords are used further later in the movement (see fig.37).

Fig. 35 Main theme of ‘Photons’, first appears at bb.1-12 . œ. œ œ. œ. bœ. bœ. 4 J ‰ J ‰ Œ #œ. ‰ Œ 3 Œ Œ J ‰ 4 J ‰ Œ œ. ‰ ‰ œ. 3 ∑ 4 J ‰ Œ Œ ‰ J &4 J 4 4 J J 4 4 . œ . bœ. . #œ . bœ. . Ó Œ J ‰ bœ ‰ Œ j‰ Œ 3 Œ Œ J ‰ 4 J ‰ Œ œ ‰ ‰nœ. Ó Œ J ‰ bœ ‰ j‰ Ó & J œ. 4 4 J J J œ.

4 & ∑ 4 72

. œ. œ . “.” œ. . . œ. #œ. bœ œ #œ. 4 . œ ‰ j #œ. ‰ Œ ∑ 3 Œ Œ œ 4 Œ œ. ‰ œ 3 ∑ 4 J ‰ J ‰ Œ . &4 #œ #œ 4 4 . 4 4 œ . J J #œ . “” “” . “”. bœ. . œ. bœ . nœ bœ. . Ó Œ #œ . #œ. ‰ Œ j‰ Œ 3 Œ Œ 4#œ. ‰ Œ œ ‰ nœ. Ó Œ bœ ‰ j‰ Ó & nœ J nœ. 4 4 J J J œ.

& ∑

bb.19-26 wœ w wœ bœ bww & bœ Ó bw n œ Ó n w ? œ w { Ó bœ bw Ó #œ #w #œœ # ww

˙ w ww ˙ w w & ˙ b œ Œ ∑ bw #˙ #œ Œ ∑ #w ? œ w #w { Ó Œ bœ bw Ó Œ #œ œ w œ w bœ bw

w bww & bw n w bnww n#w ∑ ∑ ? w w #w { bw #w bw w ∑ ∑ # ww bw . œ. œ œ. œ. bœ. bœ. 4 J ‰ J ‰ Œ #œ. ‰ Œ 3 Œ Œ J ‰ 4 J ‰ Œ œ. ‰ ‰ œ. 3 ∑ 4 J ‰ Œ Œ ‰ J &4 J 4 4 J 4 4 . œ. J œ œ. œ. œ. bœ. bœ. 4 J J #œ. 3 J 4 #Jœ. œ. . 3 4 J J &4 ‰ bœ. ‰ .Œ ‰ Œ 4 Œ Œ ‰ 4 ‰ Œ . ‰ ‰ œ 4 ∑bœ. 4 . ‰ Œ Œ ‰ Ó Œ J ‰ bœ ‰ JŒ j‰ Œ 3 Œ Œ J ‰ 4 J ‰ Œ œJ ‰ ‰nœ. J Ó Œ J ‰ bœ ‰ j‰ Ó & J œ. 4 . 4 J J J œ. œ . bœ. . #œ . bœ. . Ó Œ J ‰ bœ ‰ Œ j‰ Œ 3 Œ Œ J ‰ 4 J ‰ Œ œ ‰ ‰nœ. Ó Œ J ‰ bœ ‰ j‰ Ó & J œ 4 4 J J J œ 4 & . ∑ . 4

∑ 4 & . 4 œ. œ . “.” œ. . . œ. #œ. bœ œ #œ. 4 . œ ‰ j #œ. ‰ Œ ∑ 3 Œ Œ œ 4 Œ œ. ‰ œ 3 ∑ 4 J ‰ J ‰ Œ . &4 #œ #œ 4 4 . 4 4 œ . J J #œ . . ” ” œ. . “” œ . “” “. . “. œ . . bœ. . œ#œ. nœ. .bœ bœ œ #œ. 4 . #œ. œ ‰ . j #œ. ‰ Œ ∑ 3 ŒœŒ œ.4 œ. Œ œ. ‰. œ 3 b∑œ 4 .J ‰ J ‰ Œ . &4Ó #œŒ . ##œœ‰ ŒJ j‰ Œ 3 Œ 4Œ 4#œ4‰ Œ ‰ Jnœ Ó. 4Œ 4bœ ‰ j‰ Ó œ & nœ J. nœ. 4 4 J J #œ J œ. . “” “” . “”. . . œ. bœ . nœ bœ.bœ #œ . #œ. j 3 4#œ. œ nœ. bœ. j & Ó Œ nœ ‰ Œ ‰ Œ 4 Œ Œ 4∑ ‰ Œ J ‰ Ó Œ ‰ ‰ Ó & J nœ. J J œ.

Fig. 36 Descending patterns of notes in bb.19-26, and the chords they form bb.19-26 wœ w ∑wœ bœ bww & bœ Ó bw n œ Ó n w ? œ w { bÓb.19-26 bœ bw Ó #œ #w wœ w wœ bœ #œœ # wwbww & bœ Ó bw n œ Ó n w ? ˙ œ w ˙ {& Ó wœ bœ wbww #˙ Ó #œw #œ #w#w ˙ b œ Œ ∑ bw œ Œ ∑ #œœ w# ww ? œ w #w { Ó Œ bœ bw Ó Œ #œ œ w œ w ˙ ˙ & wœ bœ bwww #˙ #œw #w ˙ b œ Œ ∑ bw œ Œ ∑ w w ? w œbw w #w {& Óbw Œ n w bœ bbnww n#w Ó Œ #œ ∑œ w ∑ Fig. 37 Chord sequence formed in bb.19-26, which reappears in retrogradeœ at bwb.27- bœ bw 31 ?and atw bb.63-71. w #w { bw #w bw w ∑ ∑ w # bwwww bw & bw n w bnww n#w ∑ ∑ ? w w #w { bw #w bw w ∑ ∑ # ww bw

. œ. œ œ. œ. bœ. bœ. At bb.434 J-73‰ thereJ ‰ isŒ a# œ.section‰ Œ 3whereŒ Œ theJ rhythm‰ 4 J changes‰ Œ œ. ‰to‰ compoundœ. 3 ∑ time,4 Jwith‰ ŒtheŒ ‰ J &4 J 4 4 J 4 4 synthesiser echoes divided into groups of three rather than fourJ . The speed is not œ. altered; their frequency. stays the same, but the #changeœ. creates a sensation. of faster bœ . œ. . bœ . movementÓ Œ. TheJ ‰ movementbœ ‰ Œ j ends‰ Œ with3 Œ aŒ returnJ ‰ 4to theJ ‰ openingŒ ‰ ‰ themenœ Ó in tŒheJ ‰ bœ ‰ j‰ Ó & J œ. 4 4 J J J œ. synthesiser, but with more notes added (shown in fig.38 below). It is mostly unaccompanied, but the horns and trumpets occasionally pick up the theme in ∑ 4 canon,& and transposed. 4

Fig. 38 Closing variation of main theme, bb.74. -87. œ. œ . “.” œ. . . œ. #œ. bœ œ #œ. 4 . œ ‰ j #œ. ‰ Œ ∑ 3 Œ Œ œ 4 Œ œ. ‰ œ 3 ∑ 4 J ‰ J ‰ Œ . &4 #œ #œ 4 4 . 4 4 œ . J J #œ . “” “” . “”. bœ. . œ. bœ . nœ bœ. . Ó Œ #œ . #œ. ‰ Œ j‰ Œ 3 Œ Œ 4#œ. ‰ Œ œ ‰ nœ. Ó Œ bœ ‰ j‰ Ó & nœ J nœ. 4 4 J J J œ.

& ∑ 73

bb.19-26 wœ w wœ bœ bww & bœ Ó bw n œ Ó n w ? œ w { Ó bœ bw Ó #œ #w #œœ # ww

˙ wœ ww ˙ w w & ˙ b œ Œ ∑ bw #˙ #œ Œ ∑ #w ? œ w #w { Ó Œ bœ bw Ó Œ #œ œ w œ w bœ bw

w bww & bw n w bnww n#w ∑ ∑ ? w w #w { bw #w bw w ∑ ∑ # ww bw

FORMAL ANALYSIS: A (bars 1-14) B (bars 15-18) A (bars 19-26) B (bars 27-31) A (bars 32-42) C (bars 43-73) A (bars 74-87)

74

MOVEMENT 5: TRANSMISSION nœ nœ This& movement#œ #œ is builtb aroundœ œ a randomlynœ generatedœ set of 17 notes that œrepeatnœ in #œ nœ #œ œ #œ #œ nœ the synth: staccato “beeps” that sound like a signal being transmitted‘ (see fig.39 and fig.40). Initially this was to be the foundation of a completely“ electronic piece, but I decided instead to turn it into a movement of the concerto. While the note-sequence is randomly& generated, everything built around it ∑is composed intuitively, and on each repeat the accompaniment and the surrounding harmonisations are different. Programmatically, this movement represents a signal being transmitted to the 4 Voyager& from Earth, with its surrounding environment∑ constantly changing. Early in 4 the movement the orchestral accompaniment has a pastoral sound, reminiscent of Copland: this represents the signal being sent from a satellite dish somewhere in the œ American4 heartland,j jbefore propagating furtherj into deepœ space as the music œ &4#œ ‰ Œ #œ ‰ Œ Ó bœ ‰ Œ #œ Œ nœ Œ œ Œ nœ Œ becomes more ominous. bœ ? 4 #œ nœ œ #œ { 4 ‰ J Œ ‰ J Œ Œ ‰ J Œ ∑ ∑ Fig. 39 Randomly generated notenœ-sequence that is the basis of the movement nœ œ nœ œ & #œ #œŒ Ó bœ œ ∑nœ œ œ Œ Œ Œ œ‰ JnœŒ #œŒ & nœ #œ œœ #œœ #œ #œ#œ ##œœ #œ nœ#œ œ “‘ {? Ó Œ #œ#œ Œ #œ Œ ∑ Ó œ ‰ Œ ∑ #œ #œ J Fig.& 40 First incarnation of the “signal” theme, bb.1∑ -9 j j j j œ j j & #œ ‰ Œ #œ ‰ Œ Ó bœ ‰ Œ #œ ‰ Œ J ‰ Œ œ ‰ Œ œ ‰ Œ œ ∑ 4 &{? ∑ J ‰ Œ Ó ∑ ∑ 4

4 j j œ œj œ j j œ &&4#œj‰‰ ŒŒ #œj‰‰Œ Œ Ó ∑ j ‰ ŒJ ‰#Œœ œ ‰Œ Œ œ ‰Œ Œ œÓ Œ n#œœ ‰ ŒŒ #œ œ bœ nœ bœ ?4 nœ œ #œ œ ?{ 4 ‰ #œ Œ ∑ ‰ J Œ j‰ Œ ŒJ ‰‰Œ#œ Œ ∑ ∑ Ó ‰ Œ ∑ ∑ { J #œ nœ J J

œ œ Œ Ó ∑ œ Œ œ Œ Œ ‰ J Œ Œ & #œ #œ œ#œ #œ #œ 75#œ ? œ #œ #œ œ { Ó #œ Œ #œ Œ #œ Œ ∑ Ó J ‰ Œ ∑

j j j j œ j j & #œ ‰ Œ #œ ‰ Œ Ó bœ ‰ Œ #œ ‰ Œ J ‰ Œ œ ‰ Œ œ ‰ Œ œ {? ∑ J ‰ Œ Ó ∑ ∑

œ j j j & j‰ Œ j‰ Œ ∑ J ‰ Œ œ ‰ Œ œ ‰ Œ Ó #œ ‰ Œ #œ œ ? ∑ j‰ Œ #œ ‰ Œ ∑ Ó œ ‰ Œ ∑ { #œ J J

The note-sequence runs through ten cycles during the movement, with a break between the 8th and 9th at bb.70n-76,œ where the orchestra takes over.nœ Otherwise it is & #œ #œ bœ œ nœ œ œ nœ #œ continuous. In the n9thœ cycle the note-sequence #isœ givenœ to# œthe #pizzicatoœ strings, andnœ the synthesiser plays a solo “lead” part over the top. In the“ ‘10th and final cycle, the synthesiser drops out and the note-sequence is shared between the pizzicato strings,& oboe and clarinet. The note-sequence is developed∑ over the movement by following each note with an additional note on the following quaver; at first this is only done with a few notes in the sequence, then a few more, and eventually all 4 seventeen& of them (shown in fig.41 below). ∑ 4

Fig. 41 Eighth incarnation of signal theme, bb.61-69 4 j j œ œ œ &4#œ ‰ Œ #œ ‰ Œ Ó j ‰ Œ #œ Œ Œ œ Œ nœ Œ bœ nœ bœ ? 4 ‰ #œ Œ ‰ nœ Œ œ Œ ‰ #œ Œ ∑ ∑ { 4 J J nœ J œ œ œ & Œ Ó ∑ Œ œ Œ œ Œ ‰ J Œ #œ Œ #œ#œ #œ #œ #œ ? Ó œ Œ #œ#œ Œ #œ Œ ∑ Ó œ ‰ Œ ∑ { #œ #œ J

j j j œ j j & #œ ‰ Œ #œ ‰ Œ Ó j ‰ Œ #œ ‰ Œ J ‰ Œ œ ‰ Œ œ ‰ Œ bœ œ {? ∑ J ‰ Œ Ó ∑ ∑

œ j j j & j‰ Œ j‰ Œ ∑ J ‰ Œ œ ‰ Œ œ ‰ Œ Ó #œ ‰ Œ #œ œ ? ∑ j ‰ Œ #œ ‰ Œ ∑ Ó œ ‰ Œ ∑ { #œ J J

76

FORMAL ANALYSIS:

Each letter ‘A’ represents a full run of the ‘signal’ theme, which is usually 8.5 bars.

A (bars 1-9) A (bars 9-17) A (bars 18-26) A (bars 27-35) A (bars 35-43) A (bars 44-52) A (bars 52-60) A (bars 61-69) A (bars 69-76) A (bars 77-85) A (bars 85-93)

77

MOVEMENT 6: GLASS NEBULA

This movement was adapted from a completely electronic piece that I had written independently of the concerto, but which was also inspired by themes of space and 1970s science-fiction, and seemed to have potential for orchestral arrangement. It is built around a passacaglia that opens the piece in a low register (see fig.42), and reappears in a high register at the end; in the electronic version its timbre is an analogue pad, and in the orchestral version it is played by the strings. The passacaglia’s note durations are gradually augmented in bb.18-29, initially playing continuous crotchets, and then dotted crotchets, then minims, and so on. Meanwhile the synthesiser plays above it, its part initially also being continuous crotchets in time with the passacaglia, then separating to include motives and sustained notes.

Fig. 42 Passacaglia theme – first appears at bb.1-5 ? 4 œ œ œ œ œ #œ œ œ nœ 4 #œ œ #œ œ œ œ œ bœ œ œ #œ

Between the passacaglia’s appearances at the beginning and end, the bulk of the piece is built around an arpeggiator in the electronic version, which is the driving force; its part is distributed among all sections of the orchestra at various times in the orchestral version. Sometimes the arpeggiator’s material is adapted from the passacaglia, with small sections of it isolated and repeated. Other times it plays a repeated chord progression: Bb5 - Gbmaj7 - Dbsus4 - A5. (eg. at bb.30-46). The movement also features sounds that resemble a beeping machine, which are given to the clarinets in the orchestral version (at bb.34-46). The synthesiser’s part in this movement uses the “glide” feature prominently, and is more of a conventional “lead” part than in most of the other movements, floating above the orchestra with melodic lines rather than being textural.

Both the 5th and 6th movements started out as electronic pieces, and while there were difficulties in translating some of the electronic sounds to orchestral instruments, for the most part the transition happened easily and naturally. Having

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composed a number of pieces for both media, transferring music from one to the other seemed like second nature, even though the two media may seem to be different.

FORMAL ANALYSIS:

A (bars 1-17) A(slow) (bars 18-39) B (bars 30-37) B (bars 38-46) C (bars 47-63) B (bars 64-72) A (bars 73-80)

(B and C are both derived from the passacaglia in A)

79 concerto mvmt 1 - harmonies

MOVEMENT 7: THE VOID (REPRISE) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #œ 10 bw w ww bww Ó & w bw nw w w w œ nww ThePian oseventhw movementbw wis a briefb w reprise of the first, with only thew strings andbw {? w ww w Ó ˙ ˙ b˙ bb w w synthesiser. It uses the same series of sustained chords in the strings (shownnnœœ b w in fig.43 below), but with a few notes changed, so that the mood is more peaceful than (synth notes in blue) in the first movement: for instance the third chord is Gmaj7, rather than Gm7 in 1 2 b3w 4 5 b6 w 7 8 9 10 œ w b˙ n˙ # ˙ #œ movement& one (withoutbw the 3rdw in bothbbww cases),w andww in the bfourthww chord #the˙˙ Gb isœ wœ #œ œ bww b w nw nw w w nww Pno. raised? to Gw natural,bw changingw bw thew diminishedw 2nd to a perfectw 2nd. The synthesiserbw { w w Ó ˙ ˙ b˙ bbbww w part is similar to the first movement, but has more of a rising contour,nnœœ which again gives this movement a more hopeful sound. The movement ends with the repeated

3+6 tremolo chords1+4 that fade in and2+5 out, which werew also a feature of the first movement;9+10 w w here the& dynamicsw reduce andbw the music graduallybnww dies away. This ending is meant w ww Pno. w b bw to suggest? #w the spacecraft continuingnw on into nthew distance, finishingbww the concertobw with { b ww b ww b w a sense thatw the journey is bcontinuing,w rathernw than reaching a strong conclusion.b nww

Fig. 43R eAlteredprise versi oversionn (changed of no tthees in chordblue) sequence (changed notes in blue). 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #œ 10 & w bw #w ww nww Ó œ w w bw n#w n w w nww Pno. w bw w n w w bw {? w bbww nw Ó ˙ ˙ b˙ bb w w nnœœ b w

FORMAL ANALYSIS: A (bars 1-28) B (bars 29-36)

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4.7 1986

PROGRAMMATIC BACKGROUND

This was the final piece to be completed for the portfolio. It is for orchestra and Synclavier, a brand of synthesiser that was popular in the 1980s. The piece was composed on Logic Pro using a Synclavier emulator. My aim was to write a 1980s- themed piece that combined the popular music styles of that time period with Western art music sensibilities. While other pieces in the portfolio emulate 1980s music for atmospheric effect, this piece is more energetic and vigorous, drawing from the upbeat and exuberant sound of popular styles of 1980s music. It is possibly the most personal piece in the portfolio, in that it uses genres of music that are personal favorites of mine, but that might seem like a strange combination to some listeners.

The piece draws inspiration from both pop/rock music and film/television soundtracks. Two film soundtracks in particular that provided inspiration were Flight of the Navigator by Alan Silvestri (which was created on a Synclavier), and Labyrinth by Trevor Jones and David Bowie. Both films have magical/fantasy elements, which are reflected in their soundtracks, along with the upbeat energy common in popular music of the time. The piece’s title was chosen because 1986 was the release year of both films. The soundtrack of the television series Miami Vice was also an inspiration, as well as 1980s pop/rock groups and artists including Mr Mister, Simple Minds, The Cars, Scritti Politti and Dire Straits.

In addition to these influences, I also wanted the piece to sound as if it belonged in a Western art music context. I again took some inspiration from Xenakis and Feldman, using cluster chords and string glissandi in the energetic parts of the piece, and a sparse and economical approach in the calmer central section. Additionally, I also used the asymmetrical time signatures and phrase lengths that I do in most of my music. The hope was that these diverse influences would make the piece sound like a unique hybrid of multiple styles of music.

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The structure of the piece is almost collage-like, moving quickly through a number of brief segments. This was out of necessity as the Synclavier has a large number of patches, and I wanted to use as many of them as I could, without the piece becoming overlong. However, an unintended effect of this approach is the resemblance to the fast-paced editing of the MTV era of television, which John Zorn has also taken influence from in an art music context.32 This was appropriate as it provided an additional evocation of the time period. However, in 1986 there are some musical links between different sections, so they are not entirely unrelated (more details below); and the transitions between sections are not always abrupt.

Despite the collage-like approach, there is also a ternary structure of sorts, in that the piece comprises two energetic sections that flank a quieter central section. This is a commonly used structure in Western art music, but it was also informed by the music of Miami Vice: each episode features action scenes alongside quieter scenes that focus on exposition or romantic subplots, with the soundtrack reflecting the moods of both.

STRUCTURE

FORMAL ANALYSIS:

A (bars 1-35) B (bars 36-48) C (bars 49-71) D (bars 72-98) E (bars 99-112) F (bars 113-128) G (bars 129-148)

32 Taruskin, Music in the Late Twentieth Century, 504-6.

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H (bars 149-187) I (bars 188-215)

J (bars 216-237) K (bars 238-246) L (bars 247-254) M (bars 255-282) N (bars 283-300) O (bars 301-327)

TIMBRAL ELEMENTS

The Synclavier uses fourteen of its preset patches during the piece. I tried to use a diverse set of patches that would suit different moods: energetic, ominous, relaxed, etc, all with a distinctly 1980s sound. Both monophonic lead and chordal patches are used, and one percussive one. The piece does not require the performer to alter the patches during performance, as most of the other pieces do (for example, changing the waveform or adding vibrato etc.); each patch remains fixed while it is used. Generally, one patch is used for each section of the piece, though it is not always that straightforward.

The use of a full orchestra seemed appropriate as it provides grandiosity and energy, which suited the fantasy and action aspects of the piece. The orchestra mostly plays an accompanying role to the Synclavier, but there are sections where the Synclavier is absent and the orchestra is the main focus. I also tried to match particular Synclavier patches with sections of the orchestra that were close timbrally: for example, the synthesiser parts played using the “Tron Brass” and “Fanfare” patch are both later picked up by brass instruments, as they both have a brassy sound (this can be seen at bb.119-128 and bb.278-282).

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An alto saxophone is used in the piece and has two solo passages (at bb.193-213 and bb.278-282), for additional evocation of the time period: saxophone solos were popular in the 1980s. There is another “solo" at bb.270-277 which was written as a 1980s-style guitar solo, and later given to the violins and winds.

PITCH ELEMENTS

Much of the piece uses a harmonic language that is informed by popular music, with triadic chord progressions that are usually cheerful and energetic. The beginning and ending are more ambiguous and ominous, with cluster chords and drones, as if the piece is emerging from and reentering an impersonal ether.

The synthesiser line in the opening section (section A) introduces sus4 and sus2 chord patterns, and a theme that recurs throughout the piece: that of a rising minor 7th (G-F) followed by a descending 4th (Eb-Bb) in the higher register. This theme or variations of it reappear in sections H and M (see bar numbers in ‘Structure’ section below), and section J features a descending minor 7th (E-F#) prominently, an inversion of the ascending minor 7th from section A.

Section B opens with a melodic line in the synthesiser that also appears later in the piece, with a descending sequence of four notes (A-G-D-A) that plays four times, with the G raised to a G# the third and fourth time. Section E begins with a chordal version of this theme at bb.99-104, and it also reappears briefly at the close of both sections C and D (at bb.69-71 and bb.85-86).

RHYTHM

Most of the piece has a strong rhythmic drive; because of the pop/rock influence a steady driving beat seemed necessary. Usually this fell to the strings, with repeated quavers featuring often in their parts. However, to make the piece interesting and

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complex rhythmically I included asymmetrical time signatures and frequent time signature changes in places. For example, section B, where one of the main “hooks” is first introduced, is in 5/4 and features occasional 9/8 bars. The ‘I’ section is the only part of the piece to not be very rhythmically driven; there is no clear pulse in this section and it sounds as if in free time (though the rhythm is precisely notated in the score).

The very beginning of the piece is intended to sound unstable and unpredictable rhythmically. The tremolo cluster chords are broken up by quaver rests and have varying durations, and while the music is in 4/4 there is no clear sounding meter. From b.13 the music becomes more rhythmically regular, providing a sense of order emerging from chaos.

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CONCLUSION

This exegesis began by posing three research questions: 1. What have been the various roles of the synthesiser in art music? 2. How are the various roles of the synthesiser present in my own compositions? 3. Are there new roles for the synthesiser in my compositions?

My approach to answering these questions has been twofold: first, via my research into the synthesiser as an instrument within the context of art music, and second, through my practice as a composer. By reflecting on my creative work and knowledge gained during my studies I have produced some answers to the questions which are summarised below.

First, the role of the synthesiser in art music has not been that diverse or significant in comparison to its role within popular styles of music. From the case studies and other music surveyed, I have shown that it often treated as another instrument of the ensemble and has no particular distinct or soloistic role. A common role for the synthesiser when it stands out from the other instruments in the ensemble, is to provide an ethereal or fantastical background atmosphere. At other times it is used to emulate or substitute for the sounds of the acoustic instruments, often doubling these instruments to thicken the texture.

Responding to question 2 above, in my own compositions the roles of the synthesiser have been more various than is typically the case in art music. My purpose for using the synthesiser in my compositions varies from piece to piece, and one important reason is that it allows for hybridity: the creating of music with combinations of influences and styles that are not commonly heard together. In the portfolio I have taken inspiration from styles such as video game music, popular music and documentary soundtracks, and used those influences in combination with art music conventions. The synthesiser has helped to reinforce the influence of other kinds of music with which the instrument is more commonly associated. The variety

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of different styles and influences that I have been able to bring to bear in the portfolio demonstrates the versatility of the synthesiser as an instrument, and its use in a variety of different musical styles. This hybridity via the use of synthesiser is an innovative aspect of my DMA compositions.

Another common purpose for using synthesiser is to evoke another time period. Listeners, including myself, have always associated the sound of the synthesiser with various kinds of music from the 1980s, which for me are in turn associated with early childhood memories. Most of the compositions in the portfolio take some inspiration from 1980s music, and sometimes further back, from 1970s and 1960s electronic music (particularly the concerto).

A third role for the synthesiser is to suggest associations with the cosmos, and it was used to this effect in the concerto. This particular association is partly a learned one, reinforced through various film and television soundtracks (films such as Close Encounters of the Third Kind are archetypal). The electronic timbre itself suggests an alien or ‘other’ world through the novelty of its sound (at the time of its invention at least), and this can still lend itself to association with distant worlds.

Most of the above roles and ideas were in my mind prior to commencing work on the portfolio: at the outset I planned to write a space-themed piece, a video-game- themed piece and a 1980s-themed piece. However, one unplanned theme that emerged during work on the portfolio was the theme of nature and technology. In several pieces I used the synthesiser to represent both a natural landscape and a futuristic technological landscape simultaneously; this can be seen in both Collingwood 2080 and CubeMarsh. Several other pieces use the synthesiser to represent particular mechanical or digital sounds, for example helicopter blades in The Front Line 1970, and a transmission signal in the fifth movement of the concerto. It is interesting that the synthesiser proved to be well-suited to creating both a natural and a technological sound-world, even though they are seemingly opposites.

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In response to the third question above, I would conclude there are new roles for the synthesiser in my compositions, and this is due to the unusual mixture of styles and associations present in my work. The roles of the synthesiser in my music are more in line with film music or electronic music than art music; for example, I have used the synthesiser to suggest particular time periods such as the 1970s and 1980s, or for futuristic and science-fiction associations. The synthesiser is also more prominent and soloistic in my portfolio pieces than it typically is in art music pieces, where it is often used for background effect. At the same time, the music is designed for performance in an art music context, using acoustic, classical instruments alongside the synthesiser. These factors combine to produce innovation.

Another aspect of new knowledge or innovation arising from this research is, as mentioned above, the combination of technological and natural themes, within the same piece. Although the synthesiser has associations with a technological world, I also like to use it as a medium to express thoughts and ideas about the natural world.

The versatility of the synthesiser and its infinite number of sound choices, taking into account the many effects available to transform sounds, makes it an ideal vehicle for my compositional approach, aesthetic and method.

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BIBLIOGRAPHY

Books

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Armbruster, Greg (Ed.). The Art of Electronic Music: The Instruments, Designers, and Musicians Behind the Artistic and Popular Explosion of Electronic Music. New York: Quill, 1984.

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Bromley, Tom. Wired For Sound: Now That’s What I Call An 80s Music Childhood. London: Simon & Schuster, 2012.

Burns, Robert G. H. Experiencing Progressive Rock: A Listener’s Companion. Lanham: Rownman & Littlefield, 2018.

Carlsson, Anders. “Chip music: low-tech data music sharing.” In From Pac-Man to Pop Music: Interactive Audio in Games and New Media, edited by Karen Collins, 153-162. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008.

Collins, Karen (Ed.) From Pac-Man to Pop Music: Interactive Audio in Games and New Media. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008.

Collins, Karen. Game Sound: An Introduction to the History, Theory, and Practice of Video Game Music and Sound Design. Cambridge: The MIT Press, 2008.

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Griffiths, Paul. A Guide to Electronic Music. Bath: Pitman Press, 1979.

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Reynolds, Simon. Retromania: Pop Culture’s Addiction to its Own Past. London: Faber & Faber, 2011.

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Vail, Mark. The synthesizer: A comprehensive guide to understanding, programming, playing, and recording the ultimate electronic music instrument. New York: Oxford University Press, 2014.

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APPENDICES

The pieces included in this appendix are all short electronic pieces I wrote either during or immediately before my work on the DMA. I wrote these pieces partly for my own interest and partly as “practice runs” for the DMA pieces, as a way of familiarising myself with particular synthesiser interfaces and timbres before I used them in the DMA. They generally reference more popular music styles than the main DMA pieces, incorporating drumbeats and similar in length to popular songs.

Mountain Trek This is a piece written in the style of 1980s nature documentary soundtracks, a style I later drew from in the piece Collingwood 2080. It is also influenced by the group Boards of Canada.

Analog Arp This piece was written to explore Logic Pro X’s ‘Retrosynth’ interface, which I would later use in the Voyager Concerto and other pieces. It is named for the ‘Analog Arp’ arpeggiator patch that the piece uses, which I later used in the second and sixth movements of the concerto.

Cubeland This piece was written concurrently with the Games Suite and in the same style of 1980s video game music, using the same interface (ES P).

Glass Nebula (electronic version) This is the original, completely electronic version of Glass Nebula, which I later adapted into a movement of the concerto.

80s Film Soundtrack 1, 2 & 3 I wrote these three pieces using the Synclavier emulator, as preparation for using it in the piece 1986. Written in the style of various kinds of 1980s film soundtracks, I imagined the three pieces accompanying a teen drama, a sports movie and a

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science-fiction movie. To make the pieces interesting I tried to make them somewhat surreal and dark, in a comical way.

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