SPECTRUM OF SOUNDThere are many interesting and indeed challenging questions that can be addressed to composers of contemporary music and, of course, their audiences. One, I believe, is of particular importance as it concerns the fundamental elements of music itself: what, we might ask, are the basic materials of contemporary music? A response to a question such as this might seem self-evident. These basic materials are doubtless much the same as in previous music: pitch, rhythm, dynamic levels, instrumental colours... and silence. However, the evidence simply does not support this assertion and as an answer it is woefully inadequate. Many people would accept that ‘music’ as a category resists any kind of oversimplified classification: historical, social and cultural contexts must always be taken into account. Sweeping generalisations, therefore, must be treated with caution. Nevertheless, even a cursory examination of works by many contemporary composers reveals a consistent use of sonic materials which cannot be described as mere elaborations of earlier musics. They are constitutively different. We can detect a conscious determination to experiment with the actual ‘raw’ substance of sound.

As a result, these new materials have, inevitably perhaps, led to new ways of articulating and shaping musical structure. For example, individual, discrete pitches need no longer be restricted to the limited, some would even argue impoverished resources of the equal tempered scale. The pitch-field in its entirety can be regarded as a source of potential material. Any reference to pitch must, therefore, include non-tempered systems as well as sounds with substantial noise content.

It has long been recognised that our ears have remarkable powers of discrimination. Within the range of pitches to which humans are most sensitive many individual steps can be readily perceived without difficulty inside the smallest tonal unit of the semitone (even the most indulgent parent listening to their child’s violin practice will confirm the truth of this). Composers can work along a continuum and exploit the expressive potential of minute microtonal fluctuations. They might also carve dense blocks of noise-based sounds which remain static or move through pitch-space. Sound – every perceptible feature of sound – is now promoted as an element of musical language and more significant roles are assigned to characteristics such as spectral content, vibrato or even a sound’s dynamic envelope.

The London Sinfonietta’s two-part series features works by composers who have grappled with such key issues in their own inimitable ways. Giacinto Scelsi, Iannis Xenakis, György Ligeti, Georg Friedrich Haas, Claude Vivier, Tristan Murail – each composer’s distinct musical language makes use of a greatly expanded sound palette. Younger composers such as Soosan Lolavar, Mica Levi and Mark G Carroll also exploit these resources with confidence and fluency. Some common preoccupations can nonetheless be identified. An increased concern with transformations of pitch, dynamic level and texture can be detected. These occur in a variety of ways. At times we are presented with slowly evolving, continuous modulations where forward motion is interrupted and as listeners we are drawn into opaque or transparent textures. We are encouraged to move from surface details to internal currents of shifting pitch-noise densities. In addition, there can also be sudden, even violent disruptions of register and intensity.

Striking examples of these techniques can be found in the music of Giacinto Scelsi. Like other composers in this series, his music uses the most subtle and scrupulously controlled transformations

of pitch. At times such transformations are scarcely audible. They emerge and descend in shimmering microtonal gradations. Another great Italian composer Luciano Berio claimed he had “never tried to alter the nature of the instrument, nor to use it ‘against’ own its nature”. This is also true of Scelsi. Established traditions of playing wind and string instruments are still evident in his music. Virtuosity is demanded from the musicians but it is both subtle and unassuming as each musician controls the delicate transformations of pitch and dynamic levels. These are interdependent, of course, and bow pressure, for example, will increase not only volume but also the noise content within the pitch. Such techniques mark a return to the primacy of sound and how skilled performers must interact with the physical constraints of their instruments to produce such changes. It is difficult to avoid using terms such as ‘ascetic’ in reference to Scelsi’s restrained soundworld. However, I believe it would be grossly unfair not to acknowledge how expressive and sensual these minute gestures are.

All the works played by the London Sinfonietta in these two concerts are instrumental compositions. Nevertheless, with such innovative sounds and techniques of transformation we might legitimately ask why composers did not turn to technology in their search for precise control? Many did, of course, and composers working in the radio stations of Paris and Cologne during the immediate post-war years experimented with innovative materials and new possibilities for sound transformation. There is no doubt the electronic studio left an indelible imprint on many composers.

One was György Ligeti whose familiarity with the studio was surprisingly brief. Nevertheless, he repeatedly confirmed that his experience of working in the Cologne studio had a profound influence on his instrumental thinking and his development of so-called micro-polyphony. An example can be found in the first movement of his Chamber Concerto. From bar 30 the violins, viola and cello play an extended passage during which the range of pitches is gradually reduced and concludes in a trill played by the first violin. Simultaneously the instruments are instructed to alternate the positions of their bow moving close to the bridge and then gradually returning to a normal position. These processes of change slowly interact. One involves a decrease of pitch range, the other a fluctuation of spectral content. To anyone familiar with the function of an electronic filter the parallel is obvious. However, this is not simply a trivial transcription of a studio technique but an assimilation of a technological process to augment Ligeti’s own musical language. The interweaving of individual lines is absorbed within a transformed, global texture. During the trill the first violin moves as close to the bridge as possible (in the score Ligeti asks for more noise than tone) at which point there is a sudden expansion of the pitch range. The music shifts from a single narrow pitch to E flats spread over five octaves. Here the juxtaposition of textures suggests the technique of the tape splice.

Aspects of the musical languages of both Tristan Murail and Georg Friedrich Haas can be located within a scientific discourse. Acoustics and psychoacoustics are enlisted as a deliberate aid to composers. This is hardly surprising as both composers are acquainted with the research conducted at Institut de Recherche et Coordination Acoustique/Musique (IRCAM) where there was a clear intention to explore the conjunction of music and technology. The term ‘spectral music’ is frequently applied to their music even though neither composer wants to be defined by the term. However, ‘spectral music’ need not imply a dogmatic classification. There is a determination to acknowledge the interaction between the subjective experience of the listener and the systematic language of the composer. Initially the analysis of real sound spectra was important to early spectral composers. This revealed the world of microtones and also gave an insight into working with extended durations. The same can be said of Haas who continues to work with microtones and ‘pure’ tempered intervals.

Each composer mentioned in this short summary deserves to be analysed and discussed in greater detail but, as in all writings on music, I am happy to let the composers speak for themselves – through their music. © Dr John Dack

RICHARD WAGNER (1813-1883)

The vorspiel to Das Rhinegold

ARNOLD SCHOENBERG (1874-1951)

Farben, movement three from Fünf Orchesterstücke

GIACINTO SCELSI (1905-1988)

IANNIS XENAKIS (1922-2001)

GYÖRGY LIGETI (1923-2006)

HENRYK GORECKI (1933-2010)

ARVO PÄRT (b.1935)

LA MONTE YOUNG (b.1935)

STEVE REICH (b.1936)

PHILIP GLASS (b.1937)

TIMELINE Charting the past 100 years of sonic manipulation, this timeline is by no means an exhaustive list of every composer who has helped sculpt this transformation in sound. There are, of course, many composers who wrote single works that could be catogorised in this way – as in the case of Wagner and Schoenberg (represented at the beginning of this timeline) as well as Messiaen and Stockhausen. Some minimalist composers have also been included to note their frequent use of gradual transformations in sound.

STEVE REICH (b.1936)

PHILIP GLASS (b.1937)

JONATHAN HARVEY (1939-2012)

HUGUES DUFOURT (b.1943)

JOHN TAVENER (1944-2013)

GÉRARD GRISEY (1946-1998)

TRISTAN MURAIL (b.1947)

CLAUDE VIVIER (1948-1983)

GEORG FRIEDRICH HAAS (b.1953)