VI. Music as a joining of hands between Steampunk and Western contemporary music aesthetic

For this chapter, it is helpful to listen to the recording of the premiere and have the score to hand. There is also a copy of the libretto with text written by me in blue and text written by Wyatt Gaer in green. Unfortunately, the recording hasn't turned out very well, so many of the electronic sounds are barely audible. Please also note that  the work was a premiere with limited rehearsal time, so reading along with the recording may be helpful.

In the score, I have attempted to blend a contemporary music style with elements of Steampunk. In itself an aesthetic rather than a music genre, according to Merriam-Webster, Steampunk is a genre of “science fiction dealing with 19th-century societies dominated by historical or imagined steam-powered technology”. It’s an imaginative world in which steam-powered technology prevails and instead of the digital revolution we saw, develops into leading technological advances, androids among them. As explained earlier, in her original idea, Siouxie Gangé imagined an alternative reality to the Star Trek universe – which is often done in fan fiction as a means to explore the characters in different settings or put a spin on the narrative. 

This vision of an alternate universe doesn’t only feature works of fiction and its own fashion style, it also inspires many musicians in many genres. One of the interesting features is that steampunk isn’t its own genre or tied to a particular genre, it is an aesthetic that inspires many different artists from electronic, industrial and dance music to quirky rock’n’roll to folk and to film soundtracks and stock music. Sometimes, like in the soundtrack to Sherlock Holmes (2009) it’s a mixture of all of the above, and can perhaps be colloquially summarized as 19^th Century pastiche meets everything else. This kind of concept – an aesthetic, not a genre – lends itself to be incorporated into an existing style. For my own score, the steampunk influences I focussed on are a blend of electronic sounds or that evoke the imagined sounds of this world, such as clockworks and cogwheels, and tonal, string-section-heavy music balancing the more contemporary, textural and minimal sections. 

In this chapter, I would like to outline how I blended contemporary classical music style, textural and more melodic elements with elements from Steampunk but also highlight a few moments in the score and how they underpin the story. The main statement I am making with Serenoid is that it is very possible to frame a contemporary music aesthetic in a way that it is enjoyable, moving and accessible to people who aren’t part of the “usual suspects” when it comes to our audience or opera audiences in general. 

Electronic Sounds

Many of the atmospheric sounds and soundscapes are processed field recordings or stock of things that are associated with Steampunk. I will describe a few of their sources, the sound samples below are numbered 1-6 from left to right. 

The soundscape in Corrie’s dream sequence in the beginning of Scene III is a heavily processed recording of a train, albeit not a steam train, going through a tunnel (sample 1). It symbolises her hazy but necessary journey through her memory banks. The compound of her heartbeat is a number of bell samples, different clockwork and machine samples as well as a stock recording of a heartbeat (sample 2) to illustrate her personality as well as the fact that she is both sentient and synthetic. The two sound samples maybe most characterising of Merton are the recording of a harpsichord cluster once with an extreme High Pass Filter (sample 3), once with an extreme Low Pass filter (sample 4) to illustrate the dramatic oscillations between inferiority and superiority that characterise his personality, as well as the reversed recording of plucking a low string inside a grand piano. The low soundscapes during Xaven’s first aria in Scene I are a blend of stock audio from an earthquake as a metaphor for her breaking open or her foundation being shook, but also field recordings from an industrial/city area in London around London Bridge station where many of the brick buildings now used for offices, shops and cafés are Victorian buildings from the industrial revolution (sample 5). The compound sample of the wing flutter as a symbol of hope and growing connection is composed of a sample of a flutter of wings, a harmonic arpeggio on the violin and fingernails on the harp of a harpsichord (sample 6). 

Like in a traditional context, these sounds together with the acoustic score that has clearly been written in a contemporary Western classical idiom, are meant to tell the story and supplement and complement emotions and nuances that aren’t in the text or use extended techniques blended with electronic samples. Whilst I didn’t specifically employ a leitmotiv technique, the material obviously signifies emotional states and developmental processes of the characters and comes back as such throughout the opera, recognisable also for someone without training or background in classical music. Here is a short overview over the most significant motives in the piece:

Corrie’s violin melody

The opera starts with rain and thunderstorm and Corrie’s clumsy playing of the melody she has been taught by her family of origin (p 5-7, b 1- ca 26). The overpressure bow markings (eg. p 5, b 1) are meant to simulate creaking, indicating difficulties when she moves. In the original score, she is doubled by the ghost violin track, a pre-recorded and processed violin track as a metaphor for her mechanical and sentient nature being blended and unreflected at this point. The ghost track has been omitted in the premiere because there was not enough time to rehearse the two tracks matching up. Corrie keeps playing intermittently during Xaven’s first recitative. 

Scene III, which is set two weeks after the first encounter, starts with Corrie playing again (p 28, b 410-423), but instead of the creaking, clumsy interpretation of the original melody, the violin solo is a fluent but still searching quasi improvisazione, signifying that she has expanded on the material, is definitely creative, but doesn’t yet know who she is. She begins to access her memories, and enters a dialogue with her past, illustrated by the duet between the ghost violin track from her past and the first violin (in this case, first violinist Julia Hart is the “stunt woman” for Corrie’s acted playing). When she recounts her experiences to Xaven, the ghost violin melody keeps coming back in the background (p 29, b 425-p 31, b 467). 

In the resolution in Scene IV when Corrie plays the original melody (p 53, b 855-863), realising her creative potential and believing her sentience, she is accompanied by the chorus in a very diatonic manner. This is to underline the moment of resolution and proof of a “ghost in the machine akin” to a human soul. This is the last time that the melody occurs, and the only time we hear it as it was taught to her. I wanted the nature of the original melody to be simple and plain in a negative way. It was meant to signify her existence as a "puppet" and "thing" that can learn tricks but to whom nobody attributed a sentience. The will to expand on this melody to fill this role with meaning and the personality she has, would have come natural to the character.

The journey motif

Another motif that accompanies us throughout the opera crops up for the first time in the piano and violin on p 7, b 24 and b 25 in piano and soprano. The score sample on the right side is from Xaven's first aria, where the vocal line is accompanied by the clarinet (p 8, b 42-43). The aria is built on the motif, and built up in different instruments (e.g. in b 27,28 in the piano). 

It is a simple, tonal and accessible motif with a minor second in the top line and an arpeggio as accompaniment, often occurring with the underlay “Darkness, darkness”, as reinforced also on p 9, b 51-52 in the repeat of the first line of Xaven's aria. The minor second also forms the climax of the aria on p 10, b 71-72, but without the arpeggio, as a means of painting her desperation but still with the foreshadowing of it being necessary to face these feelings so that she can leave them behind. 

In b 83-84, the bassoon plays the arpeggio meno mosso to initiate a sort of "wind down", where she enters a more reflective phase that prepares her for the journey ahead.

In Scene II, it reoccurs in a lilting, rhythmically obscured way in bassoon and clarinet, marking Xaven’s entrance on p 22, b 297-304 in stark contrast to the villagers'/her colleagues' motif, the clarinet solo that first occurs on p 16, b 187-193. This theme is reminiscent of birdsong and also the basis for the polyphonic chorus parts which create the impression of people talking over each other like bird chatter. 

In Scene III, Corrie echoes the words and the motif in a slight alteration (p 35, b 527-528), quoting Xaven’s aria before she begins telling her own story. In the duet the story leads to, Xaven reiterates the minor second with the "darkness"-underlay on p 38, b 564-565 when they speak of how they both are outsiders and can't find connection to their immediate surroundings. Corrie repeats it again, when she sings "Content with observing" in b 570-471 with Xaven following suit with "helpless, a burden" in b 572-573. They are accompanied by the violin for Corrie and the bassoon for Xaven as instruments that are characteristic for each character. On p 39, b 594-595, the motif ends the duet as well in the violin with both voices in an octave on the same words "as hard as I try". This signifies that they relate to each other on a deeper level, now that they know they feel similar things.

In Scene IV, p 50, b 805-808, the violin echoes Corrie's version of it from Scene III. This is after Corrie rejects Xaven, and it indicates that she is still on her journey. In bars 812 and 814, she repeats them disjointedly with the "darkness" underlay and the following two phrases are accompanied by the minor second in violin and viola. We hear the minor second twice in the vocal parts again, the first time on p 62, b 958-959 in harmony on "We fit together!" and the second time as the conclusion of the story on "together" (p 66, b 1053-1055) and "from the darkness", also in harmony but elongated and separated on p 52, b 1064-1065. Both those times sung together, they signify that the journeys are completed and have led them to each other, so that they can go on a new journey together.

Clockworks and machine noises

There are various clockwork- and machine noises throughout the opera that point to the steampunk aesthetic but are also a reflection of Corrie’s inner life and her veering between her mechanic and her sentient nature. Apart from Corrie’s heartbeat sample (See sample 1 in the "Electronic Sounds"-paragraph), we encounter the compound gear noises first in Scene III from ca p 32, b 490. The noises that the gears make are doubled in the chorus (from p 33, b 496) and also with recorded, processed and panned noises (my own voice) to illustrate the transition from the machine, to an interim state to the sentience that resembles humanity and is signified by using human voices to make the same noises as the machine would. (sound sample 7 above). This happens again at the end of the Scene when Corrie begins to open up to Xaven as a result of learning of her experiences in the village (p 42, b 678-690). In the first instance, she opens up to herself and her inner life, in the second one, to her surroundings. In Scene IV, we encounter the same process reversed when Corrie rejects Xaven, acknowledging that there is something alive in her but not trusting herself with a real connection or relationship. The soundscape begins with the chorus voices, migrates into the recorded voice and back into the machine gears indicating that she is closing herself off again after rejecting Xaven (p 50, b 815-830). 

There are two instances in which clockwork samples are used, sometimes doubled with a col legno battuto in the upper strings. The first one is in Scene III, p 36, b 538-558. The second in Scene IV, p 43, b 691-715. These are simply moments when someone (either Xaven or Corrie's maker) actually engages with her mechanical insides.

Duets

I have reutilised some of the material in the duets between Xaven and Corrie. The first duet in Scene I (p 13, b 134-p 14, b 162) has a reprise in Scene IV into the culmination of the characters’ separation. The minor third/tritone based harmony indicates mistrust towards themselves and each otherthe first time and migrates into rejection for the same reasons the second time in Scene IV (p 46, b 763-p 48, b 787). 

The second duet in Scene III (p 37, b 559-p 39, b 597) grows out of the journey motif with the arpeggio and the minor second as main material. It also utilises the octave jumps from their very first meeting in Scene I (from p 39, b 588) in a canon instead of an echo to indicate that they're growing together until they end the duet with a unison an octave apart in b 595-597.

The lead-up into the love duet in Scene IV (p 59, b 909-p 60, b 921) derives its material from Corrie’s story in Scene III (p 35, b 532-536). This phrase signifies a type of awakening. Whilst in Scene III, it is Corrie’s awakening to the world or something akin to a birth, here, it is their awakening to each other and the connection they share. The following lines from p 60, b 923 are based on the material from Xaven's first aria (p 11, b 102-107). In the first instance in Scene I when Xaven sings the phrases, she talks about having chosen the light in defiance (meaning light of her eyes, in the sense that she worked hard and built herself an accommodation device to "make up" for being blind and trying to fit in), but in this moment she feels like she's back at square one and she did it all in vain. Now, in Scene IV, Corrie and Xaven have both found the light in themselves (as in they have overcome their loneliness) and can now attempt a connection. The last phrases are sung in harmony and an expansion on the minor second from the journey motif – they are now travelling alongside each other. This is repeated in the confirmation at the very end with the reprise of the journey motif and the awakening phrase in harmony – ending with the word “Darkness” on a minor second but in a major chord. The Darkness is not threatening or isolating anymore, it is a new beginning with potential.

Chorus

The Chorus (Vicki Stilwell, soprano; Miranda Ostler, alto; Daisy Rushton, tenor and Vivek Haria, bass) has two different functions in the opera. They are on stage as Xaven's and Merton’s colleagues in the village in Scene II. P 16, b 193-p 18, b 216 and p 21, b 289-p 22, b 294 has them running and talking over each other in their worry over Xaven, who went out in the storm and didn't return. From p 22, b 303-310 when Xaven returns, they surround her and ask her where she was and whether she can see (meaning whether her visual aid is working again after Xaven revealed that it broke in the storm). When Xaven confirms that she "can see", and attempts to explain how it got repaired, they talk over her, celebrating her extraordinary talent (p 24, b 326-p 25, b 356). These interactions are representative of how they perceive and treat Xaven, on the one hand with patronising worry as if she were a child and on the other hand with worship, but never actually as an equal or member of the community. These sentiments are echoed off-stage like Xaven's memories of their voices in her second aria in Scene III (p 40, b 628-633) with the contrasting phrases "She went out in the storm last night" and "She could fix the world". In this capacity, they also interact with Merton and it becomes clear that he, too, is not a part of their community. They ask him whether he has seen Xaven. When he suggests that she may never come back (p 22, b 292-293), he finally has them engaged at least in a horrified reaction ("Don't say that!") but his importance is of brief duration when Xaven enters the Scene a few bars later and he has to watch them kneel at her feet. In conjunction with Corrie, they play her human family on stage in her dream sequence. The phrases they speak are whispered and doubled in a panned electronic track (sound sample 9 below, p 29, b 425-435), all "othering" Corrie by calling her a "marvellous machine" and ordering her to play violin but also a reminder of her guilt with the reminder that it was her duty to protect the children. This is repeated off-stage by the chorus after she rejects Xaven in Scene IV, when the chorus all-but-screams the phrases "What a marvellous machine" and "You are here to protect them" off-stage, making it clear that the reason why she rejects Xaven is because she still exists in her trauma (p 51, b 830-835). All these roles are the roles of the groups that the main characters feel isolated from and their parts make clear why. These are also the moments in which the choristers sing actual words. 

There are several situations where the chorus also contributes to the soundscapes and harmony without semantic underlay. In these moments, like for example the whispered syllables that overlap and blend with the machine noises, the little breathy steam-engine noises in Scene IV, p 43 b 691-702) or the harmonies as accompaniment for the violin melody (p 54, b 856-864), they have the role of the “human” or “soul element” in Corrie’s journey, like the off-stage ghost that lives in the machine. 

Throughout the opera, I have tried to blend tonal, easily accessible material with more dissonant material and contemporary extended techniques like playing on the piano harp, col legno battuto or slap- and helicopter tonguing. This combination of styles was needed in order to stay true to my own compositional aesthetic but also to build the world the story is set in and open the space up for new audiences. My goal is not to adapt a more pop-musical aesthetic as a composer, but to invite people into a space where the Western art music material is fused and entangled with recognisable things. I am aware of the existing Star Trek Operas Menagerie – The Trial of Spock written by Ben Leeds Carson/Linc & Lee Taiz an “opera-fication” of the screenplay of the double episode Menagerie from Star Trek – The Original Series (1966), as well as Frieder Butzmann’s 2009 opera juHrop, sung in Klingon as well as Chinese, with participation of Diamanda Galas. Whilst the former is an opera-fication of an existing episode from the original television show in a minimal orchestral style, the latter can be understood as fan fiction, as it is centered around an interspecies relationship between a Human and a Klingon character. It is worth mentioning that musically, juHrop seems to tip its hat to the original Star Trek Soundtrack rather than the "Klingon opera" we sometimes get a glimpse of during the show. I feel I need to mention these two examples as opera based around Star Trek, and whilst I am sure, they attracted their fair share of Trekkies that don’t usually attend performances of contemporary opera, I don’t see myself working in the same vein as Carson and Butzmann. My project does not aim to be a piece of Star Trek fan fiction, even though it is based on one. It aims to blend the worlds of communities around fan fiction with the world of contemporary Western art music on a level of narratives, processes and relationships. We don’t want people to come to see a “Star Trek Opera”, when they come and see our work, we want to say “contemporary opera is made by people like you for people like you and therefore it is for you”.