This exposition brings together elements from my ongoing research into text-setting – the process of translating written text into music. In my research I attempt to examine how text-setting can become a method of meaning-making in interpreting archival life-writing by musicians.
The materials presented here – recordings, annotated lyrics, sketches, and scores – do not illustrate a fixed process or outcome. Rather, in this exposition my process of understanding text-setting as a meaning-making process is outlined.
In my musical practice, I use a songwriting method in which archived texts act as a foundation for vocal compositions. This method is also known as text-setting. The emotional and psychological states that occur within the written text are expressed through musical means. This expressive meaning, of both the text and the corresponding music, is personal and subjective. My interpretation of the text results in the intended expressive meaning of the composition. A different listener of the music or reader of the text might have a vastly different interpretation of the affective dimensions.
In contrast to the personal and subjective expressive signification of the text, the musical dimensions of the spoken text are objectively and precisely analysed. These texts are taken verbatim and integrated as song lyrics, where the translation from text to music bears both a creative and analytical character. In this process, my voice acts not only as an instrument, but as a composing and meaning-giving device. Through the repeated speaking of the text, musical patterns are uncovered; rhythm, tempo, and melody emerge from the inherent yet personal cadence and timbre of the spoken words. These elements form the basis for my compositions, in which I add harmonies which stem from the phonetic and semantic structures that form my interpretation of the text.
My work is situated at the crossroads between observation and interpretation, both translating and interpreting the meaning of the text through music. The repetition of the text requires an analytical form of auditory observation, where the repeated speaking and recording of the same text forms the basis for its analysis. During this process, not only the semantic content of the text is considered, but also the way my voice embodies and shapes this content.
By re-listening to the recordings and analysing them in detail, I draw out the natural cadence of my voice. Additionally, I have different parameters such as rhythm, intervals, time signatures and vocal techniques. These vocal techniques include sharpness, vibrato, and positioning of the larynx. These parameters contribute to the affective content of the text. Observing and consciously magnifying these parameters allows me to reinterpret the original text and transform it into a composition in which the interpretation of the voice is central. This approach creates a layered texture in which the voice, as an artistic medium, adds both a physical and meaningful dimension to the text. Having laid out the key aspects of my musical practice, next the intersection between correspondence and repertoire in my practice will be made clear.
Tim Ingold - Correspondences
According to Tim Ingold, correspondence involves more than mere words inscribed on paper; it refers to a way of being in contact that extends beyond the transmission of information.[1] For example, a handwritten letter conveys meaning not only through its content but also through the handwriting itself.[2] Similarly, a conversation is not solely focused on the words said but also on the body language and the tone. Ingold argues that to correspond is not only to be in relation, but to attune and respond to the thing one corresponds with, to move along with and be moved.[3] The term correspondence is used by Tim Ingold to denote a form of contact where the actors, which can be both persons and objects, are open to being changed.
Correspondence revolves around a constant state of reflecting on their being while simultaneously being open to becoming something else through their contact. Both parties are impacted by their contact with each other. The parties join together and differentiate themselves from each other, thereby further forming their own identity.[4] Here, Ingold distinguishes between correspondence and interaction. Whereas correspondence is open to changing and becoming, interaction revolves around contact between two things that remain what they are.[5] This static form of contact occurs between two parties who are grounded in their beliefs and only serve their purpose. The parties do not allow themselves to be transformed by the interaction, and their differences remain untouched. Ingold characterises such an interaction as between-ness. The contact between the parties only exists during the interaction and disappears once it has ended. In correspondence, the contact between the two parties continues after the contact. It is a form of being and becoming, indicating that the relationship not only reflects the existing identity but actively participates in creating new meanings. As a result, Ingold characterises correspondence as in-betweenness, a relation that goes along.
Ingold argues that the ongoing relationship and influence that correspondence conveys is necessary for the transmission of knowledge and humanity.[6] Humanity and knowledge exist through the reciprocal relationships people have with others. These correspondences can be regarded as the basis of social life, which result in the becoming which moves people forward and generates and spreads knowledge. Of the three distinguishing properties of correspondence–it is a process, it is open-ended, and it is dialogical–especially the dialogical aspect plays a major role in knowledge production and dissemination.[7] Dialogue between different parties creates opportunities for new connections that could not have been discovered in isolation, or through the static contact in interaction.
Diana Taylor - The Archive and the Repertoire
According to Diana Taylor, the repertoire refers to a way of preserving and transmission of knowledge through the enactment of embodied memory.[1] This preservation entails ephemeral practices like performances, music, dance, rituals, and other acts that cannot be fully captured or reproduced. The repertoire cannot be fully preserved or contained due to its ephemeral nature. A recorded performance is vastly different from the actual performance, yet it can be part of a repertoire. Because the repertoire is live and performed, it exceeds what the archive can capture. Unlike the archive, a place for preservation of enduring materials like texts, documents, and objects, the repertoire depends on presence and participation for the endurance of its meaning.[2] Though the actions within the repertoire are ephemeral, Taylor argues that the meanings they carry can endure through a continuous process of keeping and transforming the actions that produce meaning.[3] The knowledge the repertoire holds is not fixed, but constantly being reshaped through repeated acts that constantly re-present itself through its reiterations and transmission of the carried knowledge from one group to the next.
Though the archive and the repertoire correspond to different poles of the preservation of memory, Taylor notes that the archive and the repertoire are not opposites.[4] They often work in tandem and each offers something the other cannot. Even in societies where writing is highly valued, certain knowledge is still passed on through embodied practices, making both the repertoire and the archive of importance for the transmission of knowledge.
Thus, the repertoire is essential for passing on knowledge, memories, and traditions. It relies on presence, participation, and repetition. While the archive preserves knowledge through stable forms, the repertoire allows knowledge to keep changing and adapting. It is a way of being and becoming, where meaning is both preserved and transformed through live performance. The repertoire’s emphasis on continuous transformation echoes the previously discussed dynamic process of correspondence.
Synthesis Correspondence and The Repertoire
Ingold’s concept of correspondence and Taylor’s concept of the repertoire share similarities in their emphasis on encounters and transformation. Correspondence, as described by Tim Ingold, involves an ongoing, dialogical process in which meaning is created through contact.[1] This relational process is open to change and transformation, with both parties being influenced and affected by the encounter. Similarly, repertoire is characterised by the reiterations of embodied practices. These practices transmit knowledge and meaning through repeated performances, allowing the knowledge and meaning to be reshaped over time.[2] Correspondence describes the process of being formed by contact. An example of this process could be found in the repertoire; the repertoire transforms in correspondence with a performer and the resulting performance. Both concepts thus involve a process of being formed.
However, the two concepts have differing ways in which the process of knowledge transmission is framed. Correspondence emphasises relationality and dialogue; change occurs through mutual openness, enabling mutual transformation. On the other hand, repertoire focuses on performance and embodiment; knowledge is transmitted through repeated acts that are never identical, but maintain continuity through their meaning and constant reiterations.[3] Both concepts resist clinging onto the static and fixed. Whereas correspondence opposes interaction as a static form of contact, repertoire opposes the fixed knowledge of the archive. Correspondence's resistance to the static can be seen as a precondition for correspondence; interaction and correspondence are mutually exclusive.[4] In contrast, the opposition between the repertoire and the archive is not mutually exclusive and, on the contrary, tend to occur in tandem.[5] Within a performance with the repertoire, texts from the archive are regularly used, turning the archive and the repertoire, the static and the ephemeral, into collaborators.
Despite these differences, correspondence and the repertoire often occur simultaneously. In bringing the repertoire and correspondence together, it becomes clear that the repertoire itself can be regarded as a form of correspondence. A performance with the repertoire is not just a repetition of past actions, but an ongoing interaction between the past and the present, where performer and performance reshape each other. The process is not just about the reproduction of knowledge, but about actively participating in its transformation.
By the same token, correspondence can also be understood as performative. Looking at Ingold's example about handwritten letters, it can be seen that not only semantics play a role in meaning-making, but also the expressive style of writing is meaningful.[6] Correspondence includes not only verbal dialogue, but also the expressive and bodily aspects of communication such as tone, gesture and expression. Meaning is created not only through words but also through embodied interactions that resemble the living and adaptive nature of the repertoire.
The combination of these concepts reveals that knowledge is both relational and performative. It exists and develops through interactions that are both dialogic and embodied.
I identified the following five guidelines and requirements for the texts:
Life-Writing: The texts needed to be autobiographical or reflective in nature.
Authenticity: The writings had to feel “not curated” and ideally have been published posthumously or explicitly positioned as authentic.
Language: Texts were required to be written in English.
Length: The texts could not exceed three-quarters of a page to ensure manageability.
Content: The writings had to be by musicians and focused on being an artist or the creative process.
Starting off with the archival research, I initially found a text which I thought suitable for my research. I chose a letter written by Mozart. The initial requirements I had for the text were that it was life-writing written by a musician. The letter by Mozart fit the requirements I made for the text, so I started the next phase of my research: reading the text out loud. During the reading and speaking of the text, I became aware of the translated nature of the text. I was working with the English translation of a German text. The more time I spent with the text, the more doubts and questions I had about making a musical translation of a translated text. The goal of extracting the musical elements from a written text to find a hidden narrative falls apart when the musical aspects of the text have been changed to fit a different language. This insight made me think more deeply about the requirements the text must meet to be useful for my research.
Once I identified the new guidelines and requirements for the texts, I started the archival research again. Finding a text that met the requirements proved more difficult than anticipated. Life-writing of musicians is not included in the university's library, so I had to look outside the university. In the end, there turned out to be many books of musicians' life-writing in bookstores, with texts that are not findable online. After a long search, I came across an online archive of letters sent by Leonard Cohen early in his musical career. I chose a text and set to work on the next stage of my research: setting the text to music.
Because of the time I had spent with the trial and error of archival research, I did not have sufficient time left to extensively work on the analysis of the text. Nevertheless I picked up the text-setting process where I left off, reading the text aloud. Repeated readings of the text helped me internalise its rhythm and natural melody. I recorded these repeated readings, in which I experimented with different emphasis and rhythmic variations. I repeated the process of reading the text, hand-writing the text, speaking the text and listening to the recordings of me speaking the text. In writing down the text, I wrote the emphasis that I heard when reading the text out loud.
I wrote down the text and noted the melodic and rhythmic emphasis I could hear in the recordings. By doing this, I identified rhythmic patterns, the beats per minute, and the potential meter of the song. By exaggerating the melody of the spoken text, I discovered implied sequences, keys, and potential harmonic progressions. These informed the initial drafts of the musical setting. As time constraints became a factor, I adjusted my approach by focusing primarily on melodic elements, and simplifying and disregarding other aspects of song development. I accepted that the text could not be fully set to music within the limited timeframe.
Text-Setting Steps:
- Rhythmic information (bpm, meter, polyrhythm)
- Melodic information (key, sequences)
- Harmonic information (chords, key changes)
- Add instrumentation
- Add melodic input
- Add textures (reverb, chorus, delay)
In bringing the concepts of correspondence and repertoire together, my artistic practice demonstrates how knowledge and meaning are generated through the correspondence between text and music. My songwriting process is both focused on transmission and continuous transformation, resulting in a continuous dialogue between the archive and the repertoire. Through performance, the fixed text of the archive becomes flexible through its embodiment and interpretation. The interaction between text and voice, the archive and the repertoire, is not a process of mere reproduction but one of continual transformation.