Portfolio of Original Compositions

A thesis submitted to the University of Manchester for the degree of

Doctor of Philosophy

in the Faculty of Humanities

2018

Joshua Brown

School of Arts, Languages and Cultures

Contents

List of Examples………………………………………………………………… 4

Contents of CDs and USB……………………………………………………… 5

Abstract…………………………………………………………………………. 6

Declaration……………………………………………………………………… 7

Acknowledgements……………………………………………………………... 9

Chapter 1 – Introduction……………………………………………….……… 10

Chapter 2 – Musical Influences from Other Cultures

2.1 String Trio…………………………………………………………… 14

2.2 Duet for Clarinets…………………………………………………… 17

2.3 A reed before the wind… ……………………………………….….. 19

2.4 Singing Ringing Tree………………………………………………… 22

Chapter 3 – Pattern

3.1 General……………………………………………………..…………. 24

3.2 Juggling Patterns……………………………………………..……… 25

3.3 Infinity Series as a Structural Device………………………….…… 28

Chapter 4 – Musical Line and Teleology………………………………………. 32

Chapter 5 – Performer Freedom………………………………………..……… 38

Chapter 6 – Convergences………………………………………………..……… 42

Chapter 7 – Conclusion………………………………………………….……… 50

Bibliography…………………………………………………………………….. 52

Appendix 1: Scores Studied (indicative list)……………………………….…... 55

Appendix 2: On the Stork Tower Full Score………………………………..…... 61

Word Count – 12,506

List of Examples

Ex. 1 - Anhemitonic and Transdanubian hemitonic pitch sets…………………. 16

Ex. 2 - Anhemitonic pentatonic matrix………………………………………… 16

Ex. 3 - Opening of the second movement of Duet for Clarinets……………….. 18

Ex. 4 - Diagram by Kevin Cheng of the Shēng’s construction……………….... 20

Ex. 5 - Passage demonstrating the more aggressive Shēng line………………... 21

Ex. 6 - Singing Ringing Tree sculpture by architects Tonkin Liu………………. 23

Ex. 7 - Greek modes used in Duet for Clarinets………………………………... 26

Ex. 8 - Site-swap 531 diagram………………………………………………….. 27

Ex. 9 - Assignation of modes to players, according to site-swap 3…………….. 27

Ex. 10 - Sketch of the first 64 events as numerals (up to appearance of 6)……. 29

Ex. 11 - Assignation of extended techniques to numerals in the Infinity Series.. 30

Ex. 12 - Twelve-tone counterpoint sketch……………………………………… 35

Ex. 13 - Original line used as material from figure K…………………………... 35

Ex. 14 - Different tempi for unison line in A Summer Night…………………… 40

Ex. 15 - Example of the free and strict material in movement II……………….. 41

Ex. 16 - Plan for character of each movement………………………………….. 43

Ex. 17a - Infinity Series constructed from the interval of a perfect fifth……….. 45

Ex. 17b - Line without octave displacement, showing quint-shifting shapes….. 45

Ex. 18 - Theoretical site-swap…………………………………………………... 47

Ex. 19 - Example of one of the shapes from figure C…………………………... 47

Contents of CDs and USB

CD 1 1. String Trio (16’44): Psappha, live recording 19th February 2015, Cosmo Rodewald Concert Hall, Manchester.

2. Duet for Clarinets (11’22): Ellie Sherwood and Seb Marshall, live recording 27th November 2015, Cosmo Rodewald Concert Hall, Manchester.

3. A reed before the wind… (18’39): Manchester University Chamber Orchestra, with soloists Lixian Chew (Shēng) and Seb Marshall (Clarinets), conducted by James Heathcote, live recording 12th March 2016, Cosmo Rodewald Concert Hall, Manchester.

4. Singing Ringing Tree (15’25): Gavin Osborn, live recording 15th May 2016, International Anthony Burgess Foundation, Manchester.

CD 2 1. A Summer Night (22’28): Georgia Brown, Katherine Blumer, Dan Nolan, Max Bilbe, Mabon Jones, Malcolm Goodare, with soloist Abi Kitching, conducted by Robin Wallington, recorded 14th May 2018, Cosmo Rodewald Concert Hall, Manchester.

2. Convergences (25’13): Manchester University Music Society Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Mark Heron, live recording 21st October 2017, Cosmo Rodewald Concert Hall, Manchester.

3. On the Stork Tower (06’30): Ad Solem, conducted by Rory Johnston, live recording 8th November 2016, Whitworth Hall, Manchester. (See Appendix 2 for full score.)

USB

Pdfs of all portfolio compositions, a pdf of this commentary, and the digital sound files of the recordings that can be heard on the CDs as listed above.

Abstract

This composition portfolio consists of six original compositions, as listed below:

String Trio (Violin, Viola and Violoncello, 2015)

Duet for Clarinets (2 Clarinets in Bb, 2015)

A reed before the wind... (Chamber Orchestra, with Shēng and Clarinet soloists, 2016)

Singing Ringing Tree (Solo Flute, 2016)

A Summer Night (Flute, Clarinet, Percussion, Piano, Violin, Violoncello, with Mezzo-Soprano soloist, 2016)

Convergences (Symphony Orchestra, 2017)

The following commentary gives details of the research conducted during the process of their composition. This includes chapters discussing the following specific research areas: the influence of music from cultures outside the Western concert hall tradition, the use of pattern within the process of composing, the importance of line and teleology, and the exploration of performer freedom in my work. The sixth chapter discusses how the previous investigations into these topics for earlier works influenced the outcome of Convergences, the final and largest piece in the portfolio.

Declaration

No portion of the work referred to in this thesis has been submitted in support of an application for another degree or qualification of this or any other university or other institute of learning.

Copyright i. The author of this thesis (including any appendices and/or schedules to this thesis) owns certain copyright or related rights in it (the “Copyright”) and he has given The University of Manchester certain rights to use such Copyright, including for administrative purposes.

ii. Copies of this thesis, either in full or in extracts and whether in hard or electronic copy, may be made only in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 (as amended) and regulations issued under it or, where appropriate, in accordance with licensing agreements which the University has from time to time. This page must form part of any such copies made.

iii. The ownership of certain Copyright, patents, designs, trademarks and other intellectual property (the “Intellectual Property”) and any reproductions of copyright works in the thesis, for example graphs and tables (“Reproductions”), which may be described in this thesis, may not be owned by the author and may be owned by third parties. Such Intellectual Property and Reproductions cannot and must not be made available for use without the prior written permission of the owner(s) of the relevant Intellectual Property and/or Reproductions.

iv. Further information on the conditions under which disclosure, publication and commercialisation of this thesis, the Copyright and any Intellectual Property and/or Reproductions described in it may take place is available in the University IP Policy (see http://documents.manchester.ac.uk/DocuInfo.aspx?DocID=24420), in any relevant Thesis restriction declarations deposited in the University Library, The University Library’s regulations (see http://www.library.manchester.ac.uk/about/regulations/) and in The University’s policy on Presentation of Theses.

Acknowledgements

I wish to express my thanks to my teacher, Professor Philip Grange, for his expert guidance and for being a source of inspiration throughout my time in Manchester.

I also wish to thank my friends and family for their constant support, especially my parents Steve and Jayne, and my brother Ben.

Finally, thanks to all the wonderful musicians I have had the pleasure of working with throughout my PhD research.

Chapter 1 - Introduction

The primary research aims for this PhD were originally as follows:

 To integrate influences, such as idioms and forms, from Eastern Europe into my own musical language.  To apply musical systems derived from mathematical structures.

These primary aims originated from interests I developed during my Master’s degree. I had wanted to pursue these lines of inquiry following a collaboration with the percussionist Tim Williams, which involved working together on a piece for solo cimbalom. During this process I began to research the folk music of Eastern Europe, and Hungary more specifically. The cimbalom is a prevalent feature of the music of this area, and my interest was enhanced by hearing it played in Prague during the summer before my PhD began. During my Master’s studies I also found that working with mathematical and numerical structures, especially the use of Golden Section proportions, had been particularly useful in my approach to how I planned my work.

Once I had actually started my PhD research I found that I was drawn to influences from a broader scope than my initial research goals. This was due, in part, to a realisation that I was interested in musical influences from more diverse sources than purely Eastern European. I also discovered that the process of collaboration with musicians who work in genres to which I am unaccustomed informs this interest. Equally, through this diversification of the folk music influences I was working with, I found that my research into musical applications of mathematical concepts was much more useful and interesting when focussing on pattern rather than pure mathematics. This was not only more interesting in itself, but I also found that the use of pattern was a more suitable area of research to explore in order to integrate the two initial research aims and to explore their influence on each other.

It was agreed between myself, my supervisor, and my research panel, that changing or expanding the focus of my research questions to allow me to pursue my evolving interests would have a positive effect on my research and allow for an openness to new directions and sources of inspiration. It also had the effect of facilitating collaborations

10 that would not have fitted the original research aims, but that ultimately were important in my development as a composer.

As my original research aims evolved, I also found that my curiosity was drawn to other priorities that became central to my method of composition. These included an exploration of building musical structures through different approaches to line and teleology, as well as a growing fascination with methods of notation that allowed for varying levels of freedom for the performer. These interests developed from various collaborative projects I undertook, and the resulting pieces now form the backbone of my portfolio. As well as a project with Psappha performing as part of the ensemble during their involvement in 2016 with the organisation Contemporary Music for All (CoMA), there are also a number of compositions that are not included in the portfolio which allowed me to explore ideas around line, teleology, and performer freedom.

In light of the above, my research aims for the PhD changed and became more clearly defined. They are as follows:

 To integrate influences from sources of inspiration outside of the Western concert hall tradition into my own musical language.  To explore methods for the development of structure and musical material based on extra-musical patterns.  To develop an approach to musical line that is drawn from varying approaches to teleology.  To enhance my use of notation to allow freedom of expression for, and collaboration between, performers.

As previously stated these research aims became an important focus in my work through involvement in projects with a number of ensembles and performers, and this demonstrates that my research was not driven by a theoretical or musicological approach. Rather, the use of musicological research supported these interests within an openness to unexpected sources of inspiration that grew out of practical considerations from working with performers. My initial fascination with the music of Eastern Europe (both its classical traditions and folk music), the cimbalom, and the work of composers

11 such as Bartók and Ligeti, continue to have an impact on my work. However, as my research evolved I began to embrace the instruments and influences of other cultures as well. In terms of my research trajectory this demonstrates that although I began with a specific and narrowly defined field of research, my approach to composition has developed to allow for influences that were unforeseen but immensely valuable as they arose during my research for each piece.

Throughout the process of researching for the PhD I have therefore developed a compositional approach that is less focussed on using a single musical source to influence a number of pieces. Rather I have embraced new inspirations in each project from elements of the diverse sources I have researched and thereby evolved my compositional language. My approach is therefore more sophisticated than I would have been able to achieve within my initial, more narrowly defined, research goals. As the influences I have drawn from have expanded and developed, I have been able to refine my language from the approach I had taken during my Master’s degree. This approach was to draw direct inspiration from folk music and instruments, but as I have developed as a composer it has changed to draw together influences from a variety of traditions. This new priority of integrating approaches, philosophies, and concepts from a wider research field, and using them in conjunction with my personal style, has led to a portfolio of compositions that is original because it draws together usually unrelated sources within my own individual language and voice. This has also continued as I incorporate disparate sources of inspiration into new pieces beyond the PhD research.

In terms of how the context of my research developed there were a number of ways that I approached the individual pieces. In some cases my collaboration with other musicians was the most important source of inspiration, but I also found information in more usual academic sources such as books, articles, scores, recordings, workshops, and concerts. I also consulted with colleagues in the university for help with my research: for example, the staff at the Confucius Institute in Manchester helped to corroborate information I found regarding Confucian musical ideas that were central to my large orchestral piece Convergences. In addition to this I undertook a research trip to Budapest at the end of my first year in order to research the cimbalom, its music, and the gypsy orchestra.

During this research trip, I attended a number of performances of traditional gypsy music at the Duna Palota, the ensembles of which featured the cimbalom both as soloist and as accompaniment to both song and dance. I also conducted research in the National Library in Buda Castle looking at scores and listening to their collection of CDs. In both of these sources I focussed on the music of the cimbalom in traditional and contemporary Hungarian repertoire. I also visited the Bartók Archives that are situated in the grounds of Buda castle following correspondence with the staff there, and found many interesting field recordings that had an influence on my understanding of the Hora Lunga form I heard in concert and that I draw inspiration from in Duet for Clarinets. Another activity that helped me to develop and clarify my ideas for my research was public speaking: I have given talks on my music in public fora, as well as delivering lecture-recitals for a number of pieces, and introducing pieces during performances both in the UK and abroad. I also publicly interviewed Sir Harrison Birtwistle during the 2016 New Music North West festival, at which two of my pieces were featured alongside his music.

As well as all of the above, there are a number of composers whose work was a consistent source of information and inspiration in my music, specifically my approach to extra-musical influences such as pattern, and the use of musical hybridity through the integration of ideas from other cultures. Alongside this they influenced the development of my approach to orchestration, performer freedom, line, teleology, and musical structures. These composers included Harrison Birtwistle, Peter Maxwell Davies, Roger Marsh, Per Nørgård, Witold Lutosławski, Béla Bartók, György Ligeti, and Igor Stravinsky.

The following chapters will deal with the research aims individually in the order they appear above, with subsections outlining how they are dealt with in each relevant piece. The absence of Convergences, the final and largest work in my portfolio, from these chapters is due to the fact that this piece is a culmination of the integration of my research aims. Because of this, Convergences is discussed primarily in its own chapter in which I explain how it draws the research aims together following what I learned during the process of composing the preceding pieces.

Chapter 2 – Musical Influences from Other Cultures

2.1 String Trio

My approach to the integration of musical influences from other cultures began with the String Trio. The influence of Bartók was very important for this piece, more than any other in the portfolio, as it was composed at the outset of my PhD when I was still entirely focussed on the stimuli of Eastern European folk music. Bartók’s importance to me was not in the sense that I would employ a Bartókian compositional technique, or in the use of Hungarian melodies or actual material quotation, but rather through the philosophy of integrating folk music influences into my own compositional language. As stated by John McCabe:

“Bartók’s identification with folk-music went deeper than a mere absorption of superficial expressions of style. Indeed, it is almost impossible to separate those technical methods which he himself derived from concert music and those taken from folk-music.”1

Inspired by this, it was my intent to combine the influences I would utilise from the philosophies and ideas of other musical cultures with my own musical and structural techniques to create music that, while being in its conception stimulated by other musical cultures, would not sound like the source from which the influence came. However, this was not the same as an ethnomusicological approach to using folk music influence that Bartók himself described. John McCabe again explained this as follows:

“Writing to Rumanian folklorist Octavian Beu in 1931 in connection with those works of specifically Rumanian origin, he [Bartók] suggested this arrangement of categories:

‘1a. Arrangement of Rumanian folk melodies…

1b. Works in part utilising Rumanian folk melodies…

2a. Works with original thematic material, but of a completely Rumanian character…

1 John McCabe, Bartók Orchestral Music, (London: BBC Music Guides, 1974), 7

2b. Works with original thematic material, partly of Rumanian character…

3. Setting to music of Rumanian texts…’”2

These categories that Bartók outlined for his own works based on folk music did not fit my intentions, as I did not want to use melodies that evoked a particular cultural association and indeed wanted to compose my own melodic material. Where I have taken inspiration from other musical cultures I do not intend the character of my music to be changed on the surface due to the sounds of particular folk songs I have researched. Rather, I intend from the outset to be informed through a deeper level of engagement with philosophies and aesthetics that are significant to the original source material. Thus, the influences that are important to my research and my compositional method would impact my work without needing to be necessarily heard, therefore avoiding exoticism and being a means rather than an end.

This approach was also inspired by Roger Marsh speaking about the influence of Japanese Gagaku on his work at a forum in Manchester, after which he also directed me to read Steve Reich’s writings on the use of musical influence from other cultures:

“[the] least interesting form of influence…is that of imitating the sound of some non-Western music…this method is the simplest and most superficial way…Alternately, one can create a music with one’s own sound that is constructed in the light of one’s knowledge of non-Western structures…and let that study lead one where it will while continuing [with sounds]…one has grown up with. This brings about the interesting situation of the non-Western influence being there in the thinking, but not in the sound. This is a more genuine and interesting form of influence because while listening one is not necessarily aware of some non-Western music being imitated…Instead of imitation, the influence of non-Western musical structures on the thinking of a Western composer is likely to produce something genuinely new.”3

2 John McCabe, Bartók Orchestral Music, (London: BBC Music Guides, 1974), 22 3 Steve Reich, Writings About Music, (New York: Universal Edition, 1974), 40

The main source of inspiration for the String Trio, taken directly from my research into Hungarian folk music, was the use of a set of pitches from the ideal of anhemitonic pentatonic that Bartók associated so much with what he thought of as ‘pure’ Magyar music as opposed to the modal music of other ethnicities within Hungary, or even the Transdanubian pentatonic which is hemitonic (see Ex. 1 below).

Ex. 1 - Anhemitonic and Transdanubian hemitonic pitch sets.

The anhemitonic pitch set of the Magyar pentatonic scales was used to modulate, transform, and elaborate a composed line throughout my piece (see Ex. 2 below), and used as a central thread to create unity throughout because of its potential for non- hierarchical pitch and interval relationships.

G A C D E F G Bb C D D E G A B C D F G A Bb C Eb F G

Ex. 2 - Anhemitonic pentatonic matrix.

I had read about this non-hierarchical potential during my research into Bartók’s use of folk music. Antokoletz states that Bartók had an:

“inclination toward the pentatonic…constructions of folk music, such constructions forming a non-functional basis on which a new kind of tonality (or sense of pitch-class priority) is established.”4

Indeed, Bartók in his own words stated that in a harmonic language built from anhemitonic pentatonic scales and pitch sets “in general each of the five notes is consonant in its relationship to any of the other notes.”5 When I read this it led me to explore a compositional structure comprising sections of highly contrasting material as a means of creating tension and expectation amongst melodic and harmonic textures that are in themselves consistently consonant.

2.2 Duet for Clarinets

The main inspiration for Duet for Clarinets came during the research trip to Budapest, where I was motivated by the gypsy orchestras I heard, and more specifically a form called the Hora Lunga. This is a musical structure that begins with a long low drawn-out note in the clarinet that gradually becomes more and more highly decorated until it reaches an ecstatic climax, which became the basis of the structure for both movements of my piece. Alongside this, the influence of Hungarian music was also present in Duet for Clarinets when I derived the material for the piece from the ancient Greek modes/genera of Chromatic, Diatonic, and Enharmonic: I had become interested in using these when listening to Vicentino’s Musica Prisca Caput and they seemed to work well for this piece (their use will be discussed further in 3.2). This link to my research into Hungarian music was due to Bartók’s employment of unity “between apparently utterly disparate styles (intense chromaticism cheek by jowl with clear diatonicism, without any incongruity)”6 in his Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta.

4 Elliott Antokoletz, The Music of Béla Bartók, (London: University of California Press, 1984), 4 5 Bálint Sárosi, Folk Music Hungarian Musical Idiom, (Budapest: Corvina, 1986), 29 6 John McCabe, Bartók Orchestral Music, (London: BBC Music Guides, 1974), 46-47

I had previously avoided pitch systems that would imply or allude to functional harmonic relationships, but reading that Bartók’s research into folk music directed him to explorations of apparently contradictory tonalities led me to attempt, in Duet for Clarinets, to use a number of harmonic approaches without them seeming to contradict each other. For example, the opening of the second movement (see Ex. 3 below) shows how two modes, in their construction harmonically dissimilar, gradually form a hocket.

Ex. 3 - Opening of the second movement of Duet for Clarinets.

I then found the quotation below, which confirmed to me that the most seemingly incongruous musical cultures can have shared roots that are not immediately apparent. This is something that became increasingly important in later pieces in which I would combine musical influences from a number of sources, and it began in this piece with the amalgamation of ancient Greek modes and the Hora Lunga I heard in Budapest.

“In even their earliest studies of Hungarian peasant music, Bartók and Kodály were aware that traditional major and minor scales were generally absent from the authentic folk melodies. Instead, they had found a prevalence of the Greek or medieval church modes as well as some that were entirely unknown in modal art music. The latter, unlike the church modes, are non-diatonic.”7

2.3 A reed before the wind…

This was the piece that initiated my move away from purely Eastern European folk music as an influence on my compositional language, as described in Chapter 1 above. The University of Manchester Music Society (MUMS) organised a concerto competition that was won by Lixian Chew, a student from Singapore of Chinese origin, who plays the Shēng (笙). As there is so little repertoire for this instrument with Western orchestra besides Unsuk Chin’s Šu, even in its equally tempered modern construction, there was a call for proposals for a new composition and mine was selected. My approach to integrating the context and origins of this instrument came from a quotation regarding schools of ethnomusicology I found in a book I had read as part of my research into Hungarian music:

“The ‘Europeans’ approach the question from the side of music: with the help of collecting, notation, analysis and comparison they examine primarily individual pieces and styles, and (at least in the initial phase) devote less attention to the role occupied by music in men’s lives. The ‘Americans’ (with their ‘anthropological school’) principally research the threads by which folk music is intertwined with people’s lives, and embedded within their culture.”8

This ‘American’ approach seemed to be a useful one for me as it provided information that could inform my use of the Shēng without being led by the musical material it usually plays. While working with Lixian on the music of the Shēng and its unique physical and timbral properties, my research into the context of the Shēng in Daoist temple ceremonies, with which it is most usually associated, led me to structure the

7 Elliott Antokoletz, The Music of Béla Bartók, (London: University of California Press, 1984), 204 8 Bálint Sárosi, Folk Music Hungarian Musical Idiom, (Budapest: Corvina, 1986), 11

19 piece through ensemble associations. For example, I paired the Shēng with the percussion, oboes, and piccolos.

This was much more useful to me than attempting to reflect the Shēng’s role within the functional musical context of its origins (which is primarily that of accompaniment and therefore not entirely suitable for a concerto). It also meant that rather than taking inspiration from the compositions with and for Shēng that Lixian shared with me, I was free to explore musical material directly inspired by the Shēng’s unique physical construction and capabilities (see Ex. 4 below). This had the benefit that while I was able to learn from Lixian about her instrument, she was able to learn new things about it too as I did not compose music that she expected.

Ex. 4 - Diagram by Kevin Cheng of the Shēng’s construction.

The concept of A reed before the wind…9 came from the decision to compose the piece for two soloists with the chamber orchestra: Lixian on the Shēng, and Seb Marshall on clarinets. Following this, I found remarkably analogous passages in Aesop’s Fables and the source text of Daoist philosophy the Tao Te Ching (道德经). The former was the tale of The Reed and the Olive, and the latter a number of passages stating the advantages of the weak over the strong, such as “the submissive and weak will

9 “A reed before the wind will bend where a mighty oak will fall” is the proverb of uncertain origin referenced in the title.

20 overcome the hard and strong.”10 Each of these sources describes how an apparently weak but flexible object will survive, while something strong but uncompromising will fail. This idea of two opposing objects reacting differently to an impetus gave me my musical material and structure. It also worked well with the joint western and eastern origins of the concept reflecting the collaboration behind the composition.

Following the above concept, the Shēng is initially the more aggressive of the soloists and there is a hierarchy between the two (see Ex. 5 below). It is a hierarchy I distort and eventually subvert throughout the piece as instrumental roles within the ensemble evolve, and the stronger material becomes more flexible while the weaker gains strength. The orchestra is also divided into East and West associations at the beginning of the piece: the Shēng with the percussion and wind as above, and the clarinet with the ‘European’ strings and brass. These allegiances evolve throughout the piece parallel to the development of the strong and weak associations, until the final association where the Shēng and clarinet are together against an indifferent orchestra. This idea was derived from the anthropological approach described above for the initial division of the orchestral forces into East and West associations, and their position on stage allied to the two soloists was useful to create the visual separation I wanted in order to lead to other relationships. It also inspired me to use a degree of virtuosity that was appropriate for this project but is not usual in the Shēng’s original context: it is said that it takes a thousand days to master the Guqin, one for the Shēng.11

Ex. 5 - Passage demonstrating the more aggressive Shēng line.

10 Lao Tzu (trans. DC Lau), Tao Te Ching, (London: Penguin, 1963), 38 11 Bliss Wiant, The Music of China, (Hong Kong: Chung Chi publications, 1965), 153

2.4 Singing Ringing Tree

In Singing Ringing Tree the impetus for the use of an influence from another culture was through reading about traditional Scandinavian music, following a BBC documentary I saw about the Sami people. The Sami are nomadic deer herders in northern Scandinavia, historically and pejoratively known as ‘Laps’, hence Lapland in the north of Finland. “The traditional folk music of the Sami people is the Joik”12 (or Yoik), which is sung by a solo musician for something to which they have a deep connection. “The word Joik is a transitive verb as well as a noun: a Sami ‘Joiks’ his neighbour, his sweetheart, the wolf, the northern lights, and so on.”13

The Joik is interesting in its subtle contrast to other European programmatic or depictive music, in that it is not a representation of the subject but an evocation of it, hence Joiking for something. The Joik was sometimes used as an evocation in an almost magical sense, for which the Sami were historically persecuted: Joiking was even “prohibited by law and threat of punishment after the Christianization of the Sami people”14 as it was believed to be part of a pagan shamanic ritual. The evocation that is central to the concept of the Joik, as it continues in Sami culture today in its secular form, can be understood by comparing Joiking to the visual arts – the artist does not paint about the landscape, they paint the landscape.

I first decided to use this concept following workshops and one-to-one sessions on composing for flute with Gavin Osborn, the performer for whom Singing Ringing Tree was written. His demonstrations of the variety of sounds the flute is capable of producing through extended techniques very much inspired the use of Joiking. These sounds reminded me of a sculpture on the hills overlooking Deerplay Moor near my home in East Lancashire: the sculpture is called the Singing Ringing Tree (see Ex. 6 below), and it is constructed from a series of different lengths of pipe that are put together in such a way that when the wind blows across them they are sonically activated.

12 Nils Grinde, A History of Norwegian Music, (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1991), 110 13 Nils Grinde, A History of Norwegian Music, 110 14 Ibid., 110

Ex. 6 - Singing Ringing Tree sculpture by architects Tonkin Liu.

The sound can be heard from a short distance, even before the sculpture is in sight, and thus can be experienced as a part of the landscape itself, thereby creating an analogous link to the idea of the Joik in its original context. This was especially suitable for my piece as the Joik is primarily sung for subjects with which the musician has an intense personal connection. My use of the Joik for a piece inspired by a sonic sculpture within the landscape in which I grew up and still reside seemed to me to be wholly appropriate. As a result of this connection, my piece uses the idea of the Joik not in terms of rhythms or modes or timbral features, but through its idea of sound becoming part of the landscape’s identity.

The contrast to other European representational music, as mentioned above, is important to how I thought about the piece while writing it. It was always intended to be abstract music that does not require the listener to have experience of, or to be able to make connections to, the sculpture, while simultaneously relying on my personal reaction to the extra-musical source. This might seem contrary to European classical sensibilities where music is either abstract or has extra-musical meaning that is expected to be understood by the audience. The influence of the Joik in this composition means that it does not need to be either: it is the composer’s reaction to something personal that is at the same time both abstract and full of meaning.

Chapter 3 – Pattern

3.1 General

My interest in pattern as a tool for composition originated during my Master’s studies through my research into Maxwell Davies’ and Debussy’s use of magic squares and Golden Section (GS) respectively. This was alongside my interest in the architecture of Le Corbusier, his Fibonacci inspired GS system called the Modulor, and his collaborations with Iannis Xenakis. During further research as a PhD student I was inspired to explore other sources of pattern after using GS in Master’s works and the magic square within the language of my String Trio. Each of these was interesting to me, but they were contrasting systems of organic growth and symmetry respectively, as explained below by Howat, that I found were not as useful within my compositions when combined.

“GS is more characteristic of organic than of inorganic nature, its presence usually associated with growth and tension, whereas symmetry is more characteristic of inorganic forms (such as snowflakes), associated with stability.”15

I became interested in exploring pattern-based processes that would exploit the organic and the symmetrical together, and also complement the influences I was discovering from other cultures that I was integrating into my own work. Juggling patterns were the first influence I explored that was a tangent from my Master’s work, and their combination with Per Nørgård’s infinity series in Duet for Clarinets was a useful exploration of their duality and juxtaposition. Their duality is due to both processes being derived from symmetry and the inorganic manipulation of mathematics, while at the same time being organic in their relationship to fractal self-similarity. Their combination and juxtaposition was interesting to me as juggling patterns are by definition stable and repeating, while the infinity series is unstable as it never exactly repeats itself and is a process of constant growth and development.

15 Roy Howat, Debussy in Proportion, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983), 22

The exploration of pattern therefore opened up new lines of research in my work, but I also allowed myself not to use pattern where I felt that it would not work for a piece or a part of a piece. The absence of a system in some of my work, amongst other pieces with highly constructed material or structures, is due to my use of pattern as a tool rather than as a language in itself. Where the music seemed to require a system of highly structured architectural thought I used pattern, but not in pieces or sections in which I wanted a freely composed sense of chaos, or, as Lutosławski called it, “the slip of the pen…[or] inspired illogic”16. In these places where the irrational material simply felt more suitable I purposefully composed music that was either unrelated to pattern or derived freely from material created through a system. This is similar to the following description by Sterken of Xenakis’ work:

“Xenakis’ application of scientific paradigms has always been pragmatic. His interest was not in the technically ‘correct’ translation of such models into music or architecture but in their expressive potential.”17

3.2 Juggling Patterns

Xenakis himself stated that “when scientific and mathematical thought serve music, or any human creative activity, it should amalgamate dialectically with intuition.”18 This approach is apparent in my use of pattern as a means of manipulating rather than composing material: it is not necessarily audible on the surface and need not be recognisable in the end result. This is particularly true of how I utilise juggling patterns within my work. The first piece in which I worked with juggling patterns was Duet for Clarinets. The motivation to use them came from the idea that the Hora Lunga (see 2.2) is a form of endless melodic variation. I therefore decided to support this musical idea by employing a series of juggling patterns, known in their numerical notation as site- swaps, within the structure of the piece to manipulate my material and to provide variation of composed lines. I found no previous context for the idea of juggling within

16 Steven Stucky, Lutosławski and his music, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), 109 17 Sven Sterken, Resonance: Essays on the Intersection of Music and Architecture, (Ames: Culidae Architectural Press, 2007), 34 18 Iannis Xenakis, Formalized Music, (London: Indiana University Press, 1971), 181

25 music aside from Maxwell Davies’ Jongleurs de Notre Dame, which employs none of the mathematical patterns used to describe juggling.

The way I used the site-swaps was to compose three distinct melodic lines for each player that would then be analogous to the juggled balls. These lines were derived from Per Nørgård’s Infinity Series, itself a mathematical concept whereby a pair of initial pitches can be extrapolated into an infinite line of pitches. The three lines for each of the duettists were realisations of this series, each of which was manipulated by the imposition of ancient Greek modes I had become interested in when studying Vicentino’s Musica Prisca Caput. The first is the Diatonic, the second the Chromatic, and the third the Enharmonic (see Ex. 7 below).

Ex. 7 - Greek modes used in Duet for Clarinets.

I found, however, that the Enharmonic’s quartertone construction did not give me exactly what I wanted for the piece, so I allowed myself the freedom to alter the results of the system, resulting in three series of pitches for each clarinet that I would then ‘juggle’. The juggling patterns I used in Duet for Clarinets are: 3, 423, 51, 52512 and 531 (see Ex. 8 below).

Ex. 8 - Site-swap 531 diagram19.

As can be seen, the numbers by which a site-swap is identified refer to the duration of each thrown ball, and the points at which they land represent the left and right hands. Each individual site-swap was realised differently in my piece, as I decided to compose an individual musical character for each one. Through this I could use the site-swaps in a variety of ways. For example, 3 is the simplest of the site-swaps and I therefore decided to use this as the simplest musical realisation, by simply having the two musicians realise in full the modes alternated according to the pattern (see Ex. 9 below).

Clarinet 1 Diatonic Clarinet 2 Chromatic Clarinet 1 Enharmonic Clarinet 2 Diatonic Clarinet 1 Chromatic Clarinet 2 Enharmonic

Ex. 9 - Assignation of modes to players, according to site-swap 3.

This follows the site-swap’s left- and right-hand alternation by having one as Clarinet 1 and the other as Clarinet 2, and the three modes as the thrown ‘balls’, which leads to the pattern being realised between the two players. Rather than following the pattern exactly, which would have been an alternation of the two players individually playing a

19 Frédéric Roudaut, http://www.jonglage.net/theorie/notation/siteswap- avancee/data/diagram_531.png, (accessed 8th April 2018)

27 series of pitches, I superimposed the two parts so that they were heard together simultaneously as a single hocketing composite melody at the beginning of the second movement. This is the most directly demonstrated example of how my exploration of juggling pattern was used to manipulate material, but is not heard on the surface of the resulting music.

I also used the patterns of site-swaps in A reed before the wind… at the end when the two soloists come together, but at a much more superficial level than in Duet for Clarinets as it was by this point simply used as a tool to help me organise material rather than as an integral part of the composition process. I then used bell-ringing patterns, called changes and extents20, as a variation of juggling in A Summer Night. These patterns occur in the percussion part from figure L until the end of the piece, but again are a superficial device and have no impact on the structure of the piece or any of the other instruments’ material.

3.3 Infinity Series as a Structural Device

In Singing Ringing Tree the use of pattern was inspired by my decision to explore the combinations and alternations of extended techniques that were demonstrated to me during the collaboration with Gavin Osborn. As the concept of the piece focusses on the evocation of the wind activating a sonic sculpture (see 2.4) I wanted to find a way to use a system to organise the exploration of extended techniques. This would serve two purposes. Firstly, the use of pattern would prevent me from randomly selecting when timbres occur, and secondly the pattern itself should reflect the organic nature of the wind, which can seem random but is actually the result of complex fractals such as can be found in the growth patterns of trees or the structures of snowflakes.

Having researched the Infinity Series for Duet for Clarinets, as a source of melodic invention/transformation (see 3.2), I was aware of its mathematical and, more importantly, inherently fractal structure. The defining feature of fractals is of development at the same time as self-similarity, and is an important mathematical

20 Buckard Polster, The Mathematics of Juggling, (New York: Springer, 2003), 142

28 feature of the natural world. My use of a fractal pattern therefore led to a succession of sounds that might at first seem randomly selected but are in fact strictly and satisfyingly constructed as well as internally developing. Rather than use the infinity series in the same way I had in Duet for Clarinets, I decided to explore its potential as a purely structural device, or as an infinity series of extended techniques rather than pitches.

I therefore substituted the pitches in Per Nørgård’s original series for numerals (see Ex. 10 below). Each of the numerals would be heard as a musical event, and the progression of these events would be the structure of the piece, without reference to the upper and lower lines of the series’ construction. An interesting feature of the progression of the numerals inherent to my use of the Infinity Series here is the fact that, each time a numeral recurs, there is an ambiguity between the perception of hearing the events both as a repeat of something heard before and hearing them in a new or developing context.

Ex. 10 - Sketch of the first 64 events as numerals (up to appearance of 6).

Alongside this I decided which extended techniques I would use for the piece, and more importantly I decided to combine the techniques Gavin had demonstrated to me. I then assigned these techniques to the numbers in the sequence in order to create a gradation of timbres around standard tones that would radiate outwards throughout as the piece follows the structure of the numerical series (see Ex. 11 below). This gives the impression of opening out timbrally from a central point as the combinations of techniques appear within the structure, thereby supporting the mathematical

29 development of the pattern that is not necessarily heard but is the foundation of the piece. This is similar to how George Crumb described the numerology in the score of Black Angels as being “not immediately perceptible to the ear, [but] nevertheless reflected in the musical structure.”21

Numeral Extended technique Frequency 6 Trill with lip bending 1 5 Key clicks (thumb closed) 1 4 Key clicks (thumb open) 5 3 Whistle tones with key 5 clicks (thumb open) 2 Whistle tones with key 10 clicks (thumb closed) 1 Whistle tones 10 0 Standard note (no extended 10 technique/neutral) -1 Trill/trem. 10 -2 Trill/trem. with trill keys 5 timbral change -3 Trill/trem. with trill keys 5 note change -4 Trill keys note change and 1 wide vibrato -5 Trill keys timbral change 1 and no vibrato

Ex. 11 - Assignation of extended techniques to numerals in the Infinity Series.

21 George Crumb, Black Angels, (Edition Peters, 1970), preliminary page to full score

Another aspect of this system was that it allowed me to make use of the sounds I was most interested in exploring, and to have these occur the most often purely as a result of the progression of the series, as the decreasing frequency of each numeral radiates out from the central point (see Ex. 11 above). Because of this I was always in control of the composition of the piece because of the pattern I employed, rather than in spite of it. I was also able to choose an extremely balanced palette of sound, as well as having the conclusion of the piece as a climactic timbral event, as I knew it would only occur once and at the end. Another effect of this is that, at the beginning of the piece, the extended techniques are more restricted and seem to change subtly and slowly, but as the piece reaches its conclusion the rate of timbral change speeds up and becomes more pronounced (I also achieved this through the proportional notation) until the final timbre punctuates this with an extended reiteration of a single event.

This planning was subject to changes, with timbres omitted that I felt did not work either conceptually or practically. For example, at the end I omitted glissandi that signposted the final gesture in order to increase its effect as an unfamiliar timbre. I also changed composed materials when working with the player without rigidly referring to the pattern plans. These changes occurred because I thought they would be musically appropriate, and the piece is therefore not simply the realisation of a pattern. Indeed, the changes that took place were even present during the planning process: decisions such as what techniques were assigned to which numeral, and even at what point in the infinity series to stop, were compositional choices that were made around the use of pattern rather than dictated by it. As in any compositional process, the pattern was sketched and rewritten until it did what I wanted musically.

As Le Corbusier said, in relation to using systems that work for the creator rather than the other way around:

“…remember that no theory or regulating diagram can do your work for you: a creator must ultimately rely on his own judgement, or esthetic feeling, and not permit mechanical devices to take command.”22

22 Jacques Guiton, The Ideas of Le Corbusier, (New York: George Braziller, 1981), 61

Chapter 4 – Musical Line and Teleology

The term teleological has been defined as “exhibiting or relating to design or purpose, especially in nature”23 and derives from the ancient Greek telos (the goal) and logos (the logic or reason). In the context of music, teleology relates to compositions that are designed to be goal-oriented, with an intrinsic telos in the Aristotelian sense. My exploration of teleology, as something by which the listener is led from the logos to the telos, is achieved through progressions that follow an extra-musical pattern or concept rather than, for example, motivic development. Also, in my portfolio, the pieces do not focus on resolutions derived from a signalled arrival at a tonal centre, such as can be found in the teleology of traditional forms. Instead they focus, to varying extents, on the progression towards the telos as marked by other parameters. Examples of other parameters defining the musical arrival at a goal are the ensemble associations in A reed before the wind… which subvert those at the opening of the piece, and the vocalist’s timbre at the end of A Summer Night, which, when it returns to wordless vocalisation, implies a regression to the dreamlike state of the ‘Mystical Vision’ that occurs before the text begins.

I designed my portfolio to explore a different approach to teleology in each piece, as each was inspired by its own narrative or abstract concept. This was also an alternative to formalised structures, such as block form, that had dominated my work prior to the PhD; by focussing on the development of the journey towards the telos in each piece, I was able to explore more diverse musical structures while retaining a focus on goal- orientation. Even where there may be similarities in structural thought between compositions, the exploration of each piece’s individual progression towards a goal as the subject of the music prevents me from repeating myself. For example, String Trio and Convergences are both in three parts, but the differences of their teleologies allowed me to explore very different structural approaches, with String Trio moving between blocks, and Convergences being more organic.

23 https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/teleological, (accessed 2nd May 2018)

My interpretation of teleological approaches was also achieved through using musical line as the basis for texture without traditional melodic, structural, or resolving harmonic connotations. Musical line as an approach to texture and harmony allowed the teleology of each piece to be achieved through the layering of contrasting complexities of lines. I was led to this approach through reading this quotation from Bartók:

“The simpler the melody the more complex and strange may be the harmonization and accompaniment that go well with it…It allows us to bring out the melody most clearly by building round it harmonies of the widest range varying along different keynotes.”24

My work is not concerned with functional harmonies (for example in Duet for Clarinets or A Summer Night the return to a particular pitch was used to create a sense of stasis), but the idea above led me to think of simple lines being most clear when coupled with complex surrounding textures. The inverse of this was also worth exploring: that the more complex the line, the simpler and more static the accompanying material would need to be alongside it.

In String Trio, the concept is very simple: to structure the piece as three sections in arch forms of three parts each. This provided a framework in which I could explore the ensemble as a series of solos, duets, and tuttis. Each arch is a different exploration of the interaction between anhemitonic pentatonic line and freely composed textural material, as well as containing its own apparent teleology, this being that the ritornello of each arch provides a new perspective on previously heard material and a transition to the next arch.

The final section from figure K reveals the true telos of the entire piece, which is when all the performers finally come together to play an hexatonic three-part counterpoint without textural accompaniment. This subverts the apparent, but misleading, individual teleology of the arches, and shows the actual telos to constitute a final linear contrast to the purely textural opening. While this goal is implied by the linear material preceding it,

24 Elliott Antokoletz, The Music of Béla Bartók, (London: University of California Press, 1984), 28

33 it is unexpected as it is not obviously derived from either the pentatonic lines or the textural tuttis. The telos results from the exploration of texture and line as complementary parameters, rather than being a resolution of the heard musical material.

The parallel teleologies of the changing ensemble associations and soloists’ roles in A reed before the wind… were discussed in 2.3 as they were derived directly from the influence of non-Western concert hall traditions. In terms of line, I was interested in developing my approach to counterpoint in this piece from that of previous pieces, which consisted of the free counterpoint of the String Trio and the aleatoric counterpoint that resulted from the overlapping of pattern-based lines in Duet for Clarinets. From figure P in A reed before the wind… contrapuntal material can be heard that was inspired both by a line-centric approach to non-functional harmony and by Lutosławski’s focus “solely on the expressive and coloristic possibilities of twelve-tone chords”25 in his Five Songs.

Rather than use Lutosławski’s vertical intervallic approach, I composed a single central line for the trumpet (similar to the function of the tenor line in medieval polyphony) that was then layered individually by the other instruments until the four winds, three brass, and five strings collectively formed a contrapuntal texture in which each note of the trumpet is accompanied by the other eleven tones of the chromatic scale (see Ex. 12 below). This was done so that every chord of the twelve instruments would give a different expression of the twelve tones due to the voice-leading and layering of the lines. These became displaced and overlapped when taken from the sketch to the piece itself, but the voice-leading and counterpoint was not distorted by this as they worked together even when taken out of their original context. Lutosławski’s approach would not have enabled this, as the static function of his twelve-tone pitch fields in the Five Songs is not derived from counterpoint.

25 Steven Stucky, Lutosławski and his music, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), 66

Ex. 12 - Twelve-tone counterpoint sketch.

A contrasting approach to line also found in A reed before the wind… was inspired by a very typical Hungarian idiom of “pentatonic descending melodies with a quint-shift structure…the second half of the melody is by and large identical with the first half, repeated a fifth lower”26 e.g. A5A5AA. I used this approach from figure K, with a line (see Ex. 13 below) that was then manipulated using, alongside other transformations, the idea of the quint-shifting repetition to give an interesting meditative quality to the slow Shēng melody.

Ex. 13 - Original line used as material from figure K.

26 Bálint Sárosi, Folk Music Hungarian Musical Idiom, (Budapest: Corvina, 1986), 47

In A Summer Night the choice of ensemble was important to my approach to both line and teleology. The Pierrot ensemble in the twentieth century can be considered a standard New Music chamber ensemble, and this drove composers’ focus away from harmonically orientated verticality and towards exploration of each member of the ensemble as an individual. As Dromey said:

“In Pierrot…the relevant subject is its aggregate ‘decet’, and how its patchwork of variable solos, duos, trios, quartets, quintets, and sextets brings its new Pierrot ensemble to life.”27

The development of the teleology of my piece was inspired by this, and I explore the combinations of performers’ lines rather than using the instruments to add timbral colour to harmonic progressions or form a textural backdrop to the singer. This approach to the teleology being about the progression, while something I considered in previous pieces, became even more essential in a musical structure centred on the expression of a text. As the structure was no longer abstract, the lines could not function only for themselves, and therefore I did not layer them as combined strata, but as conversing individuals.

Therefore, in A Summer Night, the focus of my efforts was not to simply express the meaning of the words through music, but to set up relationships of the lines (between the singer and instruments, and the instruments themselves) that evolve alongside the structure of the text to lead to the end-goal of the piece: a tutti quasi-hocket from figure P, that follows the intended chaos of the freer music that precedes it, as a more unified texture through which the voice can weave.

In Singing Ringing Tree ideas about ritual directly influenced my approach to musical teleology. My use of the Infinity Series as a teleological structural device (see 3.3) was inspired by reading about ritual as:

“a paradox, an ‘inner conflict’ so to speak, between an ideal temporal order (unchanging structure) on the one hand and the profane world of temporal change and compromise (changing history) on the other.”28

27 Christopher Dromey, The Pierrot Ensembles, (London: Plumbago Books, 2012), 10

Applying this to teleology showed me an approach to goal-oriented music that could contain inherent oppositions and tensions of static versus development that can give a musical structure the impression of being at the same time volatile and stable. This was especially the case when coupled with the Infinity Series: “genesis and stasis in one; movement, but not from here to there; stillness, but not immutability.”29 I was also influenced by listening to Japanese shakuhachi (flute) music which uses timbral cellular events to create line rather than using melodic or scalic approaches that are the more usual European means of moving towards a goal.

My interest in ritual was as a source of inspiration for the exploration of consequential significance, in which intentions under the surface are more substantial than can be perceived, and where each stage towards the telos is significant in itself at the same time as leading directly to the goal. This follows the idea that rituals are developmental, and are “the transformational dialectic of structure and antistructure”.30 This allowed me to explore a musical construction in which textural and timbral exploration could occur within a musical line in such a way that the end of a piece is always the goal without ever being expected or even considered more important than the process itself. However, the Infinity Series, by its very nature, contains no inherent teleology. The telos of my piece is a point on the series that I determined and superimposed onto the unfolding process. Therefore my formalised teleological structure could be said to be at the same time logical and organic, as I also valued the idea that teleologies inspired by ritual could give performers and audiences a sense of what the music is about while also retaining mysteries:

“People know what they do and they know why they do what they do, but they do not know what what they are doing does.”31

28 Catherine Bell, Ritual Theory Ritual Practice, (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), 119 29 Karl Aage Rasmussen, The Music of Per Nørgård, (Aldershot: Scolar Press, 1996), 62 30 Catherine Bell, Ritual Theory Ritual Practice, (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), 41 31 Catherine Bell, Ritual Theory Ritual Practice, 108

Chapter 5 – Performer Freedom

Performer freedom within my work is not concerned with aleatoricism or chance, except in the sense described by Werner Meyer-Eppler: “A process is said to be aleatoric…if its course is determined in general but depends on chance in detail.”32 Rather, my use of freedom is focussed on providing a structured framework within which the music will remain consistent across repeat performances and with different players (it is important to me that the music is specifically notated rather than improvisatory or derived from graphic elements), but which also allows the performers to interact with the music, and with each other, at a deeper level than the synchronicity of more prescriptive notation.

The parameter of performer freedom within my musical language is apparent in all the pieces of the portfolio, to a greater or lesser extent depending on each composition’s unique aesthetic. This is most noticeable with regard to rhythm, as this is the parameter that is most obviously made free in my work by using a mix of strict, free, and proportional notations. These overlapping freedoms are an example of my exploration of the context of changing relationships between performers. My approach to freedom is also evident, for example, in my instructions to performers, the notation of which provide a simple and direct impression of the end result rather than a technical description of how to achieve it.

An illustration of my approach to performer instructions can be found in A Summer Night. From figure A the instructions to the singer ‘dreamily, as if humming to yourself’, and ‘slowly, reaching for a thought’ are, I have found, more helpful to a skilled performer than dynamics, timbre markings, or symbols, for every note and phrase. Even the dynamic detail from figure B for the singer is intentionally basic, with only a guide to the intensity and an instruction to sing espressivo. This is not an accident of omission (there is greater detail at this point for the percussionist and flautist), but a willingness to give the performer space within which they can achieve their own expressive aims in collaboration with my own. This approach comes from my experience of performing,

32 Steven Stucky, Lutosławski and his music, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), 110

38 especially the music of Bach: the lack of detail leads us to find more variation in our performed dynamics, and to listen more carefully to those of our colleagues, than would occur by following a predetermined system in a more comprehensive notation.

Practicality was an impetus to explore freedom in notation, as I found that the combination of sounds and the rhythmic feel I wanted were at times achieved with greater facility and expression if not using a highly complex notation; instead, a simple notation layered freely to create complexity does not show the heard result in the score itself but gives players the information needed to realise it. I have found that these freedoms are not always audible, with audience members often being surprised that parts of my music were not exactly prescribed. This consideration of practicality is derived from the context of my studies of Western classical composers such as Lutosławski and Cage, as well as the influence of non-western music that I have discussed in previous chapters.

My notation was enhanced by this research as it showed how the rhythmically free proportional notation found in Cage’s number pieces, and the limited use of aleatoric elements for rhythmic detail in Lutosławski’s work, could be applied to music inspired by a specific musical tradition. For example, in Singing Ringing Tree, the Joik as described in 2.4 is defined by expressive freedom and worked well in combination with rhythmically free material inspired by proportional notation. The influence of Lutosławski’s aleatoricism is most evident in my use of elements of chance that give the performer freedom without being “used to organise sound occurances which are meant to be a surprise not only for the listeners but also for the composer”.33

Practicality also had an effect on how much freedom I gave to the performers in each piece. For example, the ad libitum sections in A reed before the wind…, in the midst of complex surrounding music and for a prolonged amount of time, are practical as they are for a chamber orchestra with each part being only one player. The contrast in

33 Witold Lutosławski, ‘About the element of chance in music’, Three Aspects of New Music, (Uddevalla: Bohusläningens, 1970), 49

39 performer freedom I wanted in this piece was also achieved by changing the position of the performers in the space, a decision that led to the use of concurrent free and strict material according to their placement onstage either side of the conductor. The relatively little freedom employed in Convergences was inspired by this concurrence of freedom and strictness, as well as being informed by my exploration of freedom of performer interaction in the notation of A Summer Night, particularly the use of simultaneous melodies at differing tempi (see Ex. 14 below). I found that this worked well in chamber music but was unsuitable for my exploration of carefully controlled interaction of different aesthetics in an orchestral context. The simultaneous melodies at different tempi were inspired by Lutosławski’s “polyagogics”34, a method of achieving rhythmic complexity via simultaneous accelerando and ritardando.

Ex. 14 - Different tempi for unison line in A Summer Night.

Due to the time constraints of rehearsing a symphony orchestra and the greater control needed to ensure specific timbral and rhythmic associations in the larger forces, I used a more traditionally prescribed approach to notation for the majority of the piece. Therefore, the concurrent free and strict material in Convergences was restricted to the strings, cor anglais, and bassoon at the start of the second movement (see Ex. 15 below). The material in this section was intended to be realised according to Lutosławski’s ideas of rhythmic richness through instability outside of traditional rhythmic notation35 as a contrast to the aesthetic of the first and third movements.

34 Steven Stucky, Lutosławski and his music, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), 112 35 Witold Lutosławski, ‘About the element of chance in music’, Three Aspects of New Music, (Uddevalla: Bohusläningens, 1970), 51

Ex. 15 - Example of the free and strict material in movement II.

Chapter 6 – Convergences

The process of composition for the final piece of my portfolio, Convergences, drew together the research aims explored in the previous pieces. Here I revisited compositional, structural, and orchestration techniques I had previously used, while moving on from those I had not found useful. I also combined approaches to the research aims involving musical influences from other cultures, pattern, musical line and teleology, and performer freedom, into an integrated aesthetic and technique drawing on my experience of their exploration in the other compositions. The concept for Convergences also came from research I had done into traditional Chinese Confucian philosophies regarding music, during a collaboration between myself, the Manchester Confucius Institute, and Ad Solem the university’s chamber choir, for my choral piece On the Stork Tower, a setting of a Tang dynasty poem by Wang Zhihuan as translated by Xu Yuanchong. (See Appendix 2 for the full score of this piece.)

I researched these Confucian philosophies in both written material and in conversations with Karen Wang, the Deputy Director of the Confucius Institute. They are Ya Yueh (雅樂), the ‘high’ music of the court which is characterised by pentatonic elegance and sustained tones, and Su Yueh (俗樂), the ‘low’ music of the peasants which is characterised by more chromatic freedom and a rhythmic imperative. Bliss Wiant also describes two words that translate as music, Yin (tone) and Yueh (pleasure), and he states that “these two ideas – tone and pleasure – must have organic unity before true music can exist.”36 This idea of organic unity led me to attempt the combination of Ya Yueh and Su Yueh in the choral piece.

As before, when using non-western influences, I employed the idea of their different aesthetic philosophies rather than actual melodies or characteristics (such as traditional Ya Yueh using semitones outside the pentatonic only when in downward motion37). I also attempted their combination without conveying a sense of hierarchy between them. The piece was well-received, in that the Confucian scholars were interested in the

36 Bliss Wiant, The Music of China, (Hong Kong: Chung Chi publications, 1965), 2 37 Bliss Wiant, The Music of China, 3

42 superimposition of philosophies usually regarded as antithetical. However, I found my approach of layering rather than integrating the two aesthetics to be too superficial.

In Convergences, therefore, I decided to explore the aesthetics of Ya Yueh and Su Yueh in different ways throughout the piece, as an evolving exploration of their individual qualities, their contrast when combined, and their integration into a single aesthetic. I wanted to do this in an orchestral context as I had read that an “important classical Chinese concept is that timbre and pitch are the two primary resources in music.”38 I was intrigued by the idea of integrating Ya Yueh and Su Yueh’s aesthetic connotations as a study of timbre, alongside the ideas about non-Western influences, pattern, line and teleology, and performer freedom that I had previously explored. For example, from figure H in the first movement, there is a parallel timbral melody to the melody of tones (see bar 141 to the end of the movement). This was inspired by the Chinese concept described above alongside my own understanding of the European orchestra, rather than by ideas of Klangfarbenmelodie. This can be seen in its apparent rhythmic stillness, and the development of each tone’s timbre in its own right rather than as a textural or directional gesture.

My initial plan for the structure of Convergences was a single movement that would last around twenty minutes, but early in the planning stages I decided to change this to explore the idea of multiple movements. Therefore, I planned a large-scale structure that allowed me to experiment with the developing function of the same material through contrasting approaches to orchestration, line, and teleology. The character of each movement would be as follows (see Ex. 16 below):

I II III Timbral ‘tapestry’ Focussed orchestral timbres Role of soloists

Ex. 16 - Plan for character of each movement.

38 Chou Wen-Chung, ‘Asian Concepts and Twentieth-Century Western Composers’, The Musical Quarterly, Vol. 57 No. 2, (Oxford University Press, April 1971), 213

Although each of these three approaches is concerned with line, the first movement uses interweaving lines within constantly changing timbres, the second uses line in consistent orchestral combinations, and the third’s exploration of the role of the soloist is a response to the violin solo at the end of the second movement. In this final movement the focus moves from a prolonged cello solo into textures that explore soloists in combination. With regard to the individual movements’ structures, I then made detailed plans for their progression. However, they are irrelevant to the finished piece as, during the process of composition, my ideas developed and improved to such an extent that the finished structures do not relate to the plans. Therefore, I do not include them in this commentary as the progression of each movement’s structure emerged organically from my own intuition, during the process of composition, rather than from the plans.

For my conception of ‘high’ music the melodic line was constructed using an approach I had taken in A reed before the wind… of A5A5AA, as discussed in chapter 4 (see page 35). I did this by taking the pattern of Per Nørgård’s Infinity Series, as used as the basis for Duet for Clarinets, and, rather than transforming it by applying modes to its construction, constructed a series based purely on the interval of the perfect fifth (see Ex. 17a below). By removing the octave transpositions to create a line with proximate notes, this then gave a line with the impression of pentatonic quint-shifting repetition. This is equally true if considered split into two parts as A5-A or into four parts as B1-B2 then B3-B4 (see Ex. 17b below).

I composed this material while working on Duet for Clarinets but did not use it until Convergences: this impression of quint-shifting pentatony worked well for the feeling of Ya Yueh that I wanted, as it had an elegant pentatonic impression without imitating Chinese pentatony. Furthermore, by creating a series constructed from the interval of a perfect fifth I was able to use a line of original material that was inherently imitative of both the Hungarian quint-shifting pentatony I had been interested in at the beginning of the PhD and my later interest in ancient Chinese musical philosophy.

Ex. 17a - Infinity Series constructed from the interval of a perfect fifth.

Ex. 17b - Line without octave displacement, showing quint-shifting shapes.

I also found this approach useful for an orchestral piece as even in its original Hungarian context it contains possibilities for numerous realisations of the same material. As well as the A5A5AA structure there are possibilities of A5B5AB39 or any combination of these through repetition and superimposition. This led me to create contrasting shapes, formed from the initial material to give longer and more substantial musical sections that could be used to combine the apparently incompatible musical aesthetics. In this line of enquiry there was also an inherent wealth of potential contrapuntal possibilities that are not usual in Chinese approaches to tone, but which were appropriate for use in musical textures that were derived from line and pattern.

39 Zoltán Kodály, Folk Music of Hungary, (London: Barrie & Jenkins, 1971), 39

In addition to the influence of Ya Yueh and Su Yueh being equally defined by their contrasting use of line, I was inspired to use line as the primary source of both melody and harmony by the following quotation from Xenakis.

“After the disintegration of tonality Western music used the tonality of the chromatic scale without making any difference between the individual notes. It led to a deterioration in the quality of music because the chromatic scale is neutral. In order to get a more interesting, more complex scale, we have to choose between the notes.”40

Regardless of whether one agrees with this contentious statement, it led me to approach the contrast between the original harmonic implications of Ya Yueh and Su Yueh in a way that did not become neutral as a result of their combination, but also did not require me to employ a hierarchy between the two. Indeed, in Convergences the material is entirely derived from line. Rather than attempting to merge the two contrasting original philosophies into a single melody or texture, the context of the combination of the two lines would define the amount of interaction they would have: either purely one or the other, both occurring simultaneously, using the aesthetics of one to vary the other’s line, or using pattern to combine them and create an ambiguity rather than a neutrality.

An example of how I composed using both aesthetics unified into a single texture through pattern can be found from figure C in the first movement. In this section I employed a theoretical site-swap (see Ex. 18 below) that had a shape that I had found interesting during my research into juggling and bellringing, the patterns used in Duet for Clarinets, A reed before the wind…, and A Summer Night. The pattern below was a tool rather than a part of the concept of the piece, and so I employed this site-swap as a device with which to achieve the contrapuntal combination of Ya Yueh and Su Yueh.

40 Bálint András Varga, Conversations with Iannis Xenakis, (London: Faber and Faber Ltd., 1996), 93

Ex. 18 - Theoretical site-swap41.

Using this as the basis for a contrapuntal section of music, I combined the rhythmic qualities of Su Yueh with the tones of both the Ya Yueh and Su Yueh lines and united them in the shape of the site-swap. Following the pattern, each line uses the same material in the same proportion as the duration of each ‘throw’ in the site-swap. Therefore, the longest line contains the same rhythm as the shortest, but its elongation gives the impression of Ya Yueh’s lack of rhythmic focus (see Ex. 19 below). By overlapping a number of these contrapuntal shapes constructed with different mixes of Ya Yueh and Su Yueh material, rather than presenting the pattern only in its entirety, I was able to create a texture that expressed both without a sense of hierarchy. More importantly I was able to integrate them into a number of musical textures occurring together without relying on superimposition.

Ex. 19 - Example of one of the shapes from figure C.

41 Buckard Polster, The Mathematics of Juggling, (New York: Springer, 2003), 15

Convergences’ teleological considerations are drawn from the influence of the rest of the portfolio. The progress of the Ya Yueh and Su Yueh in their relationship to each other is realised through the shape of each movement’s combinations of a timbral exploration of tutti textures and soloistic lines. This approach is particularly taken from the String Trio, A reed before the wind…, and A Summer Night. The influence of Duet for Clarinets and Singing Ringing Tree is less obvious as pattern was so central to their structures in a way that is not found in Convergences, but the former influenced my approach to the use of pattern within multiple movements, leading to its use in this piece as a process-derived goal that emerges within movements rather than as the impetus or the climactic point.

Each movement has its own teleology alongside the larger goal to the whole piece. The first movement opens with a musical discourse which is intended to create a sense of ambiguity for the listener. By contrasting repeating sustained chromaticism with the tuba’s rhythmic expression of the ‘high’ pentatonic line, each layer is heard as a combination of Ya Yueh (sustained and pentatonic) and Su Yueh (rhythmic and chromatic) characteristics, but still contrast each other without a sense of convergence. Following this, the movement expresses the first telos with the convergence at figure C through the use of the pattern as described above, the goal of which is subverted by the rest of the movement’s fragmentation with figure F-H being only Su Yueh, and H to the end being only Ya Yueh.

The second movement begins as an apparent alternation of the two aesthetics, inspired by Hepokoski’s description of Sibelius’ fifth symphony’s repetitions as “a momentary withdrawal from linear time in favour of ‘circular’ stasis.”42 The moment of convergence appears to come at the build-up of the horn line from bar 36 as the ‘high’ line gains momentum and triggers both the mechanically rhythmic and chromatic material in the strings, and the more sustained timbral overlaps in the winds. However, the telos of this movement is implied at the beginning and explicit at figure I in the violin solo: both express the Ya Yueh inspired line combined with the rhythmic and

42 James Hepokoski, Sibelius: Symphony No.5, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 23

48 chromatic connotations of Su Yueh, and the passage from F-I is a less sophisticated superimposition intended to superficially mask their divergence when the stasis is broken.

The attacca third movement grows out of the violin solo of the previous movement. This movement’s apparent telos is an exploration of the role of the soloistic line from movement two, but later the solo lines overlap each other with varying prominences of Ya Yueh and Su Yueh characteristics. From figure F these lines lose their independence to come together into a single timbral gesture and the violin background comes into the foreground above the winds. Thus the ultimate telos of the piece is for the convergence of the aesthetics to dissolve, and to leave an ambiguity that was expressed in the opening of the first movement and was central to my intended exploration of the two philosophies without a sense of hierarchy.

Chapter 7 - Conclusion

The trajectory of my research has been a development from interests established during my Master’s degree, during which I began to discover an interest in music from other cultures, and to explore the use of mathematics as a structural device. Throughout my PhD research each new portfolio piece has provided an opportunity to develop and improve my general composition technique, my understanding of how to collaborate effectively with performers, and my knowledge and understanding of how each of my research aims can be utilised to the best effect as part of my own language. The piece that best represents all the research aims having equal weight in my work is Singing Ringing Tree, written around the halfway point of my period of research. After this piece I found that I was able to confidently explore my compositional interests more freely and allow myself to trust my intuition. For example, pattern became less of a central defining feature for the concept of a piece, as I gained enough experience not to have to rely on it for structural or material developments.

Musical influence from other cultures retains its importance to my interests and my output, but it is no longer an exclusive aim. The main focus of this is now the way I use any influence as a means to enhance my technique without imitation. Equally, line is an element of my work that has been consistently important, as it has helped me to embrace subtleties of structural thought from both Western concert music and other cultures. Although performer freedom was not a primary aim, during the process of my research it became an important focus, especially as a way to engage and work collaboratively with individual musicians. This is especially true in post-portfolio pieces that I have composed, such as for projects like the Composers+ 2017 summer school I attended in Lithuania. Performer freedom is something I intend to explore more deeply in my post-doctoral work.

Teleology was also not a primary aim and was therefore explored in conjunction with the other areas of my research. This is ongoing in my post-portfolio compositions, and I am currently working on a project, following Composers+ 2017, with accordionists Pietro Roffi and Martynas Levickis which will explore teleology in more depth alongside varying extents of performer freedom. This project is a series of collaborative

50 pieces for solo accordion, entitled the Mosaico series, which will explore the changing contexts and implications of teleology within successive pieces. Each piece will constitute a different mosaic of material initially presented in the first of the series. This exploration of the potential of the teleology of a piece to evolve, or possibly be obscured, will be realised through recomposing, restructuring, and reprioritising material and climactic moments. The pieces will also explore varying approaches to linearity within musical structure, as an additional layer of ambiguity within the evolving teleological identity of the Mosaico series.

As well as this project, my compositional output following Convergences has included a work for chamber orchestra and soloists The bird of life is singing premiered in the Ilkley Arts Festival, and Double Duo for two accordions and two cellos premiered in Lithuania. I am also in the process of planning subsequent collaborations, including a solo piece for Spanish violinist Ignacio Romero, and a new string quartet for the Acceso Quartet following the recent revision of my piece Boreas that they premiered. Each of these projects will continue to expand on the ideas I have developed during my PhD research.

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Appendix 1: Scores Studied (indicative list)

String Trio: Bartók - String Quartet Nos. 1-6 Berio - Duetti per due violini vol. 1 Dvořak - Terzetto in C, Op.74 Ferneyhough - String Trio Finnissy - String Trio Harvey - String Trio Hindemith - String Trio No. 1, Op. 34 Kodály - Serenade, Op.12 Variations on a Hungarian Folksong ‘The Peacock’ Lachenmann - String Quartet No. 1 ‘Gran Torso’ String Quartet No. 3 ‘Grido’ Maxwell Davies - Revelation and Fall, Op. 31 String Trio, Op. 290 Symphony No. 1, Op. 71 Symphony No. 4, Op. 136 Schoenberg - Serenade, Op. 24 String Trio, Op.45 Sibelius - Tapiola, Op. 112 The Swan of Tuonela, Op. 22 No. 2 Stockhausen - Mantra Stravinsky - Trois Pièces pour quatuor à cordes Webern - Streichtrio, Op. 20 Weir - The Bagpiper’s String Trio Xenakis - Ikhoor Yang Tsung-Hsien - String Trio

Duet for Clarinets: Bartók - Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta Birtwistle - Duets for Storab Cage - In a Landscape Carter - Canonic Suite for Four Clarinets Esprit rude/esprit doux Esprit rude/esprit doux II Gra Hiyoku Debussy - Jeux Première Rhapsodie pour Clarinette et Piano Violin Sonata Dukas - L’Apprenti Sorcier Knussen - Trumpets, Op. 12 Maxwell Davies - Le Jongleur de Notre Dame, Op. 79 Nørgård - Voyage into the Golden Screen Partch - Two Studies on Ancient Greek Scales Vicentino - Musica Prisca Caput Whalley - Interlocking Melodies for String Quartet Young (La Monte) - Sarabande

A reed before the wind… : Bach - Brandenberg Concerto Nos. 1-6 Beethoven - Piano Concerto No. 4 in G major, Op. 58 Birtwistle - …AGM… Melencolia I String Quartet Tree of Strings Theseus Game Concerto for Violin and Orchestra Carter - Duo for Violin and Piano Triple Duo Delius - Double Concerto for Violin and Violoncello Haydn - Trumpet Concerto in Eb, Hob.VIIe:1 Ligeti - Doppelkonzert Violin Concerto Lutosławski - Concerto for Cello and Orchestra Five Songs Maxwell Davies - Strathclyde Concerto No. 3, Op. 139 Strathclyde Concerto No. 5, Op. 151 Schneider - Concerto for Shēng and Orchestra Stravinsky - Dumbarton Oaks Ebony Concerto Symphonies of Wind Instruments Takemitsu - Garden Rain Orion and Pleiades To the edge of dream Unsuk Chin - Šu Varése - Intégrales Wang I-yu - Solar Planet

Singing Ringing Tree: Berio - Sequenza I Booty - Secret Studies Ferneyhough - Cassandra’s Dream Song Hosokawa - Atem-Lied Murail - Unanswered Questions Saariaho - NoaNoa Sciarrino - L’Opera per Flauto Vol. 1-2 Søderlind (Ragnar) - Fantasia Borealis Strömholm (Folke) - Samiaednan Sami Overture Takemitsu - Voice Vea (Ketil) - Jiedna

A Summer Night: Birtwistle - Nenia: Death of Orpheus Britten - Spring Symphony, Op. 44 Canticle III, Op. 55 Nocturne, Op. 60 Carter - A Mirror on Which To Dwell In Sleep In Thunder Syringa Feldman - Duration I Grange - Cimmerian Nocturne Shifting Thresholds Grisey - Partiels Henze - Bassarids Elegy for Young Lovers Three Auden Songs Maxwell Davies - Blind Fiddler, Op. 67 Eight Songs for a Mad King, Op. 39 Miss Donnithorne’s Maggot, Op. 60 Sonatina for Violin and Cimbalom, Op. 114 Stedman Doubles, Op. 3b Messiaen - couleurs de la cité celeste Quatuor pour la fin du temps Les offrandes oubliées (Méditation Symphonique) Murail - Treize couleurs du soleil couchant Schoenberg - Herzgewäsche, Op. 20 Pierrot Lunaire, Op. 21 Stravinsky - Elegy for JFK Three Japanese Lyrics

Convergences: Berg - Kammerkonzert, 5 Orchesterlieder, Op. 4 3 Orchesterstücke, Op. 6 Britten - Four Sea Interludes, Op. 33a Carter - Concerto for Orchestra Symphony for 3 Orchestras Casken - Cello Concerto Maharal Dreaming Orion over Farne Knussen - Symphony No. 3, Op. 18 Lutosławski - Concerto for Orchestra Macmillan - Cello Concerto The World’s Ransoming Marsh - Stepping Out Maxwell Davies - St Thomas’ Wake, Op. 37 Messiaen - Sept Haïkaï Rautavaara - Symphony No. 4 ‘Arabescata’ Symphony No. 5 Symphony No. 6 ‘Vincentiana’ Schoenberg - Chamber Symphony No. 1 in E major, Op. 9 Five Pieces for Orchestra, Op. 16 Schubert - Fantasy in C Major ‘Wanderer’, Op. 15 Sibelius - Symphony No. 5 in Eb major, Op. 82 Symphony No. 6 in D minor, Op. 104 Symphony No. 7 in C major, Op. 105 Stravinsky - Feu d’Artifice Firebird Suite (1945) Tippett - Concerto for Orchestra Webern - Passacaglia, Op. 1 Five Pieces for Orchestra, Op. 10 Six Pieces for Orchestra, Op. 6, 21, 30

Appendix 2: On the Stork Tower Full Score