Failures / obstacles
During and after the rehearsals, it became clear that certain things did not go according to plan.
- When it comes to synthesizing complex spectral timbers, the attacks and envelopes of instruments are of paramount importance. The musicians did not plan or control these parameters collectively during improvisation. Moreover, spectral blending was generally not a major concern for the band. At times, it did emerge spontaneously during improvisation (see for example the recording at 2:08, 2:28, 3:10, 3:50), but the coda is a clear example of it falling to the wayside. Pirro composed this section to favor the complete spectral fusion of the four instruments into a complex timbre. Despite his clear compositional goal, the quartet did not spend much time on finding a way to blend their sounds together.
We can give a tentative explanation for the band’s not being deeply concerned with spectral fusion in the coda. Firstly, these are synthetic spectra that are fully calculated. They do not come from the analysis of real acoustic phenomena. Spectral fusion becomes difficult to grasp with deformations that are far removed from the harmonic overtone series, and for which there is no aural “model” the players can refer to. Secondly, we can hypothesize that focusing rehearsals on blending sounds is a very unusual practice for jazz players. It is in a sense antithetical to the usual way of practicing together, in which the players can draw their artistic motivation from the expression of a heterophony of individual voices. An unfamiliar goal like sonic fusion requires a lot of patience and a new mindset, and the results could arrive comparatively slower, if at all. - Some indications in the solo section of the score did not prove useful, and might even have been counterproductive. For example, Pirro included sets of pitches in the score that were meant to facilitate improvisation, but the players did not find them particularly helpful. They felt it made it harder rather than easier to comprehend the spectra. in addition, they felt that giving two “flavours” of the 0% stretch (labeled 0%A and 0%B) overcomplicated things. As a result, the band collectively decided not to follow these indications.
- It was mostly Obermüller’s own artistic choice to adhere to the bass line that was written out in the score. However, that choice might have had something to do with the fact that the spectra in Stretch are sparse in the bass region, which makes expanding the bass line more challenging.
If the phases of organological research and composition were a complex play of resistances, practicing with the band was a controlled explosion.
The band rehearsed together for 5 days between autumn 2021 and spring 2022. The studio session took place shortly after, from March 30 to April 1. Every band member brought their own frame of reference and relationship with their instrument, which multiplied the reconfiguration brought on by the introduction of spectral theory.
After the album was mixed, Pirro interviewed his bandmates to ask questions about their impressions of the process and their relationship to the music. We arranged some of their and Pirro’s thoughts in relation to six points of orientation: Proficiency, “If You Can’t Sing It, You Can’t Play It”, “Play Who You Are”, Emerging Qualities, Study Time, and Resistance. On the resulting map, the points of orientation are represented as round bodies, attractors that keep all the comments and quotations in a stable but elastic arrangement. Each comment orbits in the vicinity of one or two points of orientation, to which it is associated. Often a comment can be said to belong to more than one point.
The background color of each box indicates the person making the comment, according to the four boxes listed on the left of this paragraph. Hover your mouse over the names of the band members to display a short musical profile for each one.
Two conclusive sections, comprising an account of some of the obstacles encountered during the process and a summary analysis, are given at the bottom of the page, in order to draw the attention of the reader to a number of issues and themes.
Blending together in a complex timbre is a lot about establishing control over the attack and the envelope of sounds, something that is difficult to achieve while improvising together.
Most of the time I was not aiming for [spectral fusion]. I still feel this music is connected to jazz or other similar musics, where I play this [pre-established] kind of role.
[I] use a finger that normally you don't use, like between the middle finger and the pinky. This one is the one I use the most for the quarter tones.
“Play Who You Are”
What makes the soloist’s voice stick out? What makes the instruments blend into a complex timbre?
When I study, I try to look for combinations that make the piano and the synthesizer blend into one coherent sound. I look for emerging timbrical qualities that arise from these pitch aggregates.
Rhythmically, there is a double layer: (1) the meter changes (4,5,4,5,1…) and (2) the different rhythms within those meters. The study followed this layering: I studied how to “flow” over the meters without counting, [...] and how to be prepared to play over the improvised section with freedom. A way to develop this is through ostinatos that go across the bar lines. So, you develop this “parallel counting”. [This] connects to [what I call] “ritualistic rhythms”, [...] a constant thing going throughout the piece.
Sometimes there was very little difference in the notes [of the different spectra] and in my improvisation I explicitly tried to articulate them as much as possible [...] I'm trying to play voice leading between the notes that change.
Often, I just couldn't hear the synthesizer because it has a sine wave like quality, where the piano kind of covers it with all its harmonics.
Analysis
We made two important observations while taking stock of the musicians’ comments, the failures and obstacles we encountered, and the sonic result (the recording).
The first observation had to do with the way in which the spectral framework, and some compositional decisions that were informed by it, resisted band practice. All four musicians emphasized the important role of proficiency in jazz ensemble practice. Those that had to directly deal with the pitch material of the piece had to cope with a low perceived level of proficiency, which put them in an unusual place. Sometimes this would rub against their artistic integrity and principles. This was the case for Comerford, who tied his sense of proficiency to his ability to sing and hear the pitches he plays. On the other hand, drummer Mora Matus—who did not have to play pitch material—remarked that the excitement of the musicians toward the music was higher than usual. He noticed a higher level of focus and an adventurous attitude.
Mora Matus’s sense of the moment matches the quartet’s positive reaction when listening back to the recording months after the take. All band members, even those who had misgivings during the recording, see the end result as artistically valuable. This points to creative potential in the way this music was made, with its complex game of resistance between jazz practice, spectral theory, and instruments. Moreover, that potential can exist beyond—even despite of—the judgement of musicians during their creative process.
Our second observation was that, in their turn, the dynamics of a jazz quartet opposed a resistance to elements of the spectral model, and to compositional decisions that sprung out of that model. For example, the experiment did not cause a reconfiguration of the traditional roles in the jazz quartet: drummer Mora Matus and bass player Obermüller kept the structure of the piece tight. Obermüller accentuated this role by sticking close to the written bass part—a choice he made in part because he felt insufficiently proficient with the spectral structure. Pirro was busy keeping the performance timbrically glued together: during study and performance, he was looking for sounds that would favor spectral blending. Comerford contributed by creating musical phrases typical of a soloistic instrument: he played his saxophone as a distinct voice with a recognizable attack and timbre.
Perhaps because of these traditional dynamics, the band also did not feel like spending much time on spectral blending. They preferred to focus on tasks they were deeply familiar with, and that they had spent countless hours learning to steer to successful outcomes.
[...] either I follow the bass line, what's written [...] at the most, I make some rhythmic variations on the written bass line. Or when I improvise, I really try to refer to the written harmonic series that we had on this other page. As a bass player, I get less into that position to really go around. I'm really very much still discovering these spectra. I feel like it's not relevant yet to start trying to get out of it.
[...] familiarizing yourself with the quarter tone fingerings on the saxophone, just to play the notes” and try to find how to make these fingerings work with the intonation tendencies of your saxophone, bearing it in mind that on the saxophone the fingerings do not generally correspond to precise quarter tone intonations.
Proficiency in jazz is an absolute must. We are dealing with interplay, and in order to have an honest conversation you need to know what you're talking about, to know how to listen, you need to know how to talk, how to carry on a dialogue, and if you don't and you fake it, you won't have a good conversation.
[I take] rhythmic details present in the piece (example: the large triplet in the last 4 beats of the bars in 5/4) and try to treat these accents as beats, and subdivide them in various ways. Think of them as “nested tuplets”). In those points, it's possible to hint at rhythmic modulations.
In these situations, the band still has to learn to trust each other, and is not as fast as backing each other up and solving problems [while playing], or it is not as easy [for each musician] to take the lead in something, or make clear choices with confidence.
For me jazz is more than sound, it's about mastering what you do and being able to replicate [certain things].
The effect is that we had an adventurous attitude towards the music. We related to the music with this kind of… vertigo. You feel asking yourself “where is it going to go from now? Where are we moving from here?” There is this excitement about it.
Fluency, expertise, competence, even mastery. Holds currency in a professional context. Often showing a kind of dexterity or virtuosity. Repeatability and control.
[The music] sounds very elegant, of good quality, like a work of art, very focused, music made in a careful way and not on automatic pilot.
[…] trying to hear the intervals to improvise with, and honestly, it was really, really difficult and I do not feel like I succeeded.
I do feel like all of us share a certain experience with a lot of different kinds of music and this is essential.
How important was it that I was proficient? I would say it was quite important, and I did not really succeed, except on kind of a basic level. It slowed me down and it made me play simple stuff. And actually, I don't think that was a terrible shame [...]
I wouldn’t consider myself proficient in this spectral language that you use. But, in a way I am always in this position. [...] In order to grow, you have to put yourself in the position where you don’t always know what you are doing, then try to control that new situation.
I was at the same time the leader and the novice of the band. For a bandleader, being able to communicate their musical ideas with ease and confidence is an important trait. Failing to do so might undermine the trust and the creative flow in the band. By choosing to play the LinnStrument, I had to negotiate the typical role of the bandleader with a position of great vulnerability.
I perceive [the irregular meter structure] as fundamental for the composition. It draws attention on the rhythmic elements. The information about the meter changes affects the perception of the composition even before having played it. It motivates me [...] to face rhythm in a different way, not just in a default way, but I would say in a more creative way. You have to think about strategies. Adds more dimensions to the piece, and creates tension/release.
[these distorted spectra] do not resonate [...] when you play saxophone you usually are working on somehow locking into something or resonating with something [...] it does actually break the rules of music [...] because it is not related to whole number ratios.
And then the difficult part for me then was to really hear the stretch intervals and for me it's kind of fundamentally goes so far against my training.
You only have to be proficient enough to do the thing that you need to do, to say the thing you need to say.
Resistance
Of the instruments, of the theoretical model. Using resistance, being pushed back by resistance.
I know [...] that the overtone series can be mistuned and often is. But for me, when it is mathematically mistuned like this, it kind of goes into a different world, which is super hard to imagine. It's like gravity doesn't exist. Or gravity is in the wrong way...
It surprised me in how much it did not align with my own artistic kind of principles as an improviser.
[singing] that's, for me, really hearing the music [...] to improvise well, you have to be able to sing or hear what you do
“If You Can’t Sing It, You Can’t Play It”
How were the musicians negotiating the ideal “If you can’t sing it, you can’t play it” with the enhanced resistance opposed by the spectral stretch model and by microtonal playing on their instrument?
Sam: ... [to] do these kind of experiments, […] to do this in a rigorous way, it would require a much greater level of accuracy in the realm of tuning or pitching these notes [both on yours and mine instrument]. [Besides that,] the [spectra in the piece are] already an approximation to the nearest quarter tone, which I find a difficult thing, because I think you've actually just stripped the idea of its most fundamental and interesting aspect, in a way. It's a bit like if you would take your new metric structure and just like force it into a grid of 4/4 or something, you know, your triplets and your stuff. It's a bit like that.
Me: What is the interesting aspect that the quartet tone approximation takes out?
Sam: It's the exact feeling that everything is off. Instead, you always snap it back to the grid, you know? [...] You know the way when you take MIDI data, you can snap it onto a grid.
Me: Quantization.
Sam: Yeah, quantization. It's a form of quantization. It's quantization of the pitch and for me that's a difficult thing.
Me: But you can say that for music written in the equal temperament as well. If your ideal of music relates to the harmonic series, no matter what you do, then music written with 12 tones is also a very brutal form of approximation.
Sam: But I think it is, actually, I agree. Exactly. I do agree.
Me: What is different is that in that system of reference, we use abstractions that are familiar to us, meaning that we have ways of understanding the relationship between this brutal approximation and the ideal of just intonation, if you want. And in the system that I proposed, building this relationship is, I mean, something that... it's still to build, you know, it's something that we cannot take for granted... that doesn't exist immediately. [There are not] so many cultural references. We [as a band] are still in the process of learning how to feel the, let's say, the non-approximated version that this thing tends to. So, when you play in C major, and you instinctively can tune your instrument, depending on the context, on a just third, for example –and you can do that if it's the thing that your ear suggests– but it's not only all about the ear... You do that, and you know when to do that instinctively because you have a very broad corpus of cultural examples behind you, you have a whole culture supporting it.