may (madrigal)

First things first, I missed April’s madrigal—so I’m sorry that I failed to achieve my goal of a madrigal in just intonation every month this year. That being said, may is based upon material I originally composed for a piece called Fox – Wolf – Hound for harpsichord in 1/4-comma meantone; may is a reimagining of that material in just intonation. Unlike the previous “madrigals” this one is in a faster tempo.

march (madrigal)

The third of my 12 “madrigals” in just intonation, march, is based upon tones rows that are derived from the partials of the overtone series. The explanation of the tone rows, and how they relate to the kind of just intonation I’m using, is pretty esoteric; so I’ll save that for after the preview text.

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New Cantata

Portions of a secular cantata I’m working on were recently performed at The National Opera Center as part of a concert produced by Composers Collective (a group of composers that self-produce concerts, of which I’m a member). The cantata, The Red Blaze, is a selection of Emily Dickinson poems loosely connected by references to times of day and night. The selection below, “I had no time to hate,” is an exception — it’s not about the daytime or nighttime — instead Dickinson speaks to the limits that life places upon our ability to love and hate one another, and the choice of love over hate.

This performance features Elise Jablow (soprano) and Mila Henry (piano), as well as Hai-Ting Chinn, Tomas Cruz, and Jeremy Hirsch (who are waiting patiently during Elise’s solo).

february (madrigal)

The second of my “madrigals” for 2017, february, is similar to last month’s; it explores different chords and sounds based upon the harmonic series. (Of course, all of these works have many different “harmonic series” occurring throughout each piece. In one moment, a chord might be based upon a series derived from a particular E-flat. In another, it could be based upon A.) All my works utilize the G = 1/1 system that Harry Partch used, but I go far beyond 42 notes — which is the great value of computer music. I look forward to composing more of these “madrigals.”

january (madrigal)

A resolution of mine for 2017 is to compose a set of “madrigals” — 12 short works in just intonation, each one dedicated to a different month of the year. Part of the resolution is to create visualizations for each of the madrigals. The first of these, january, is in the style of past videos such as a mind of winter…  and Brooklyn Blues. To some extent, I hope these recall the bizarre mannerists of late Renaissance such as Wilbye, but mostly I hope they present an interesting process (much like my 31 Days from 2014).

madrigal

The weather here in New York City has been turning for over a month now. For the last few years, the days around Christmas and the end of the year haven’t been terribly cold. I fondly recall walking through Prospect Park on Christmas Day 2014; the afternoon was warm and everyone was out in the park. We all knew that this would be one of the last few days that would be this pleasant. This year has been much cooler, and today winter has officially begun. This “madrigal,” a mind of winter… is based upon another piece I’m currently working on: a choral setting of Wallace Stevens’ 1921 poem, “The Snow Man.” I’ve adapted some of the open material from that work for a small excursion in just intonation. Sounds were rendered using Sibelius 7.5 software, and the animations were done in After Effects.

Thank You Gene Wilder

This post might seem shameless, but the recent death of Gene Wilder got me thinking about how actors, artists, celebrities, or anyone else contributing to the cultural dialog affects others in ways that are unexpected.

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Cold Air

Two years ago I completed my 31 Days project: 31 new pieces in just intonation in 31 days; one piece everyday from July 11–August 10, 2014. The process involved experimenting in different styles and exploring a new plethora of sounds. During the process of composing a piece every day, I found my perceptions of sound had changed and my experience of how I perceive and understand pitch had been fundamentally altered. Now, two years later I’ve had the opportunity to listen to many of the pieces again, and to reflect upon that process. As an homage to that month, I composed a new piece that is very much a product of the challenge I took on in 2014. Cold Air is a 31-limit piece for oboe with clarinet quartet (two clarinets and 2 bass bass clarinets). The audio is rendered using samples from NotePerformer and the Sibelius pitch bend function. Like many of my works for just intonation, the piece explores combinations of tones found in the harmonic series. (I recommend viewing either in full screen, or on YouTube.)

Greeley Square and Back Again

Today is World Listening Day 2016! And like in past years I’ve taken this day (or week) to post field recordings that I find around me in my locales. This year’s theme for WLD2016 is “Sounds Lost and Found” and is focused upon changes in in our soundscapes over long periods of time. Unfortunately I don’t have any long (e.g., years or decades) apart field recordings, but I was able to give two different views of the same route hours apart. The first portion of the recording is taken from 15:20–15:28 EDT, and the second portion was taken walking back the same route 22:25–22:33 EDT. The recordings show the difference in activity around the Herald Square subway station and Madison Square Garden in the afternoon and in the later evening on a Sunday.

Remembering Chris Allen

I met Chris Allen in January of 2003. I had just started the undergraduate program at San Diego State University’s School of Music & Dance and he was the pianist for Laurinda Nikkel’s vocal studio. Chris played piano for me in my lessons, at my juries, and for a few of the ensembles I performed with at SDSU. Chris was my first real intense experience of working one on one, consistently, to prepare and perform a piece of music with another person. I was so green at the time I didn’t even realize that I supposed to pay the pianist for playing at my lessons. I’m sure I still owe Chris some money for a few of those lessons and coaching sessions and juries.

chris

Christopher Allen (1957–2016), a joy of a human being and a wonderful musician.

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