Micropolyphony, baby

I took my first crack at writing micropolyphonic music in the sixth (and perhaps my favorite) ouroboros miniature, Swell. It’s a cool little piece for guitar duet in which various chords played as very rapid ad-lib arpeggios begin pianissimo and slowly swell to forte, before returning to pianissimo, at which point the figure repeats itself with a slight harmonic change. As one guitar does this, the other performs a similar gesture out of phase (as in, one is playing very quietly getting louder while the other is playing loudly getting quieter). The result is a pretty cool texture on both the micro and middle levels. The very fast arpeggios tend to go in and out of phase, creating interesting rapid rhythms that change drastically with every performance. The duration of the swells also has a certain level of indeterminacy, similar to the rapid ad-lib arpeggiation (but slightly more controlled) that create a unique, somewhat irregular harmonic rhythm that slowly morphs and transforms over time. The key to this piece is the rapid arpeggios, though – it acts as a sort of sustain for the harmony and allows the performer to control the dynamics really well.

I recently got the idea of doing a similar piece (perhaps rewriting the same one, if I’m lazy) for the guitar orchestra in la Casa de los Tres Mundos, Granada. Rather than two guitarists each doing three-note apreggios, you can have six guitarists each doing rapid tremolo on a single note. It might be best to use a plectrum with some rapid alternate picking, since the classical or flamenco tremolo technique tends to be rather quiet, and we rehearse outside with all of the city’s traffic noises and other music students drowning out our guitars. Start with the one-note tremolo, then add some arpeggios to increase the harmonic density and even throw in some rasgueado abanicos to do rapid six-note chords.  Methinks ‘twould be a good study for those particular guitar techniques, and it would also introduce the students to reading music notation with a certain level of indetermincy (ad-lib rhythms and durations denoted in approximate seconds).

Fourth Mode of Limited Transposition

It has been a while, but I have returned, dear reader. No need to skip another beat – the remaining modes of limited transposition (modes 4, 5, 6 and 7) each have six transpositions – more than the first three modes, but less than your usual major/minor scale. To quote the master himself:

“One point will attract our attention at the outset: the charm of impossibilities…. This charm, at once voluptuous and contemplative, resides particularly in certain mathematical impossibilities of the modal and rhythmic domain. Modes which cannot be transposed beyond a certain number of transpositions, because one always falls again onto the same notes; rhythms which cannot be used in retrograde, because in such a case one finds the same order of values again – these are two striking impossibilities.”      -Olivier Messiaen, The Technique of my Musical Language

More transpositions means that they are slightly less impossibly charming… it is more difficult to produce the timelessness typical of Messiaen’s style with these modes, but that’s not really a big deal since nobody will ever surpass Messiaen in his Messiaen-y-ness.  Any such attempt would be a futile waste of time, and this is of little concern to composers looking to write new, different music. I continue to encourage anyone who does indeed use these to employ them differently than Messiaen did – for the love of God, don’t use them together with non-retrogradable rhythms. Many composers avoid these modes like the plague for fear of sounding too much like Messiaen, but the point is to reinterpret them in a new light. My Ouroboros Miniatures were based loosely around the third mode, and they sound absolutely nothing like him. Messiaen writes: “We shall not reject the old rules of harmony and of form; let us remember them constantly, whether to observe them, or to augment them, or to add to them some others still older (those of plainchang and Hundu rhythmics) or more recent (those suggested by Debussy and all contemporary music).”

The fourth mode of limited transposition employs the following pattern of half-steps and minor thirds:

h h h m3 h h h m3

And the fretboard diagrams with the scales in standard notation for each of the transpositions:

Fourth MLT, first transposition

Fourth MLT, first transposition

Fourth MLT, second transposition

Fourth MLT, second transpositionFourth MLT, third transposition

Fourth MLT, third transposition

Fourth MLT, fourth transposition

Fourth MLT, fourth transpositionFourth MLT, fifth transposition

Fourth MLT, fifth transpositionFourth MLT, sixth transposition

Fourth MLT, sixth transposition

As per usual, many tonal triads are present within the mode, but they lack their usual harmonic function in a major/minor system. It’s not difficult to find them, so I’ll leave it up to you rather than writing them all out again. This mode (along with the remaining modes 5, 6 and 7) is symmetrical along the tritone. This means that the pattern between frets 0 and 6, will be the same as the pattern between 7 and 12, and so on (see the diagrams for clarification). This makes them really easy to learn on guitar- you basically only need to memorize two positions to cover the entire fretboard. Seriously, just take one hour to learn one of the transpositions (I prefer the fourth and fifth transpositions because they have the most open strings in standard tuning), it will open your mind to amazing new possibilities.

Third Mode of Limited Transposition

Now it gets interesting – if a C major scale is a lightly salted soda cracker, consider the whole-tone scale a wheat thin, and the octatonic scale is some tasty ciabatta with olive oil. This next mode of limited transposition might very well be “The Burger.” Messiaen himself invented the remaining five modes of limited transposition and, in my humble opinion, this particular one is quite possibly one of the most beautiful things birthed by human beings in the past century – human beings themselves notwithstanding. (Perhaps Messiaen’s mother, or Cleopatra’s nose, really deserve credit, but this is a very different topic). This mode has a total of four transpositions before it is enharmonically repeated, and employs the following pattern of whole-steps and half-steps (w and h, respectively):

w  h  h  w  h  h  w  h  h

This mode translates very nicely to guitar. Behold the fretboard diagrams, this time with each mode written out in standard notation as well:

Consider the first transposition: C  D  E♭  E♮  G♭  G♮  A♭  B♭  B♮  C

And the following tonal triads which are native to it: dominant seventh chords are denoted with the seventh in parenthesis.

  C               E              G♯
  C               E              G♮             (B♭)
  C               E♭             G
  C               E♭             G♭
          D                F♯             A♯
                  E♭             G               B♮
                  E♭             G               B♭       (D♭)
                  E♭             G♭             B♭
                  E♮             G♯              B♯
                  E               G♯              B♮         (D)
                  E               G♮             B
                  E               G               B♭
                                  G♭             B♭          D
                                  G♮             B♭          D                                                B♭          D
                                  G               B♮          D
                                          A♭            C           E♮
                                          A♭            C           E♭       (G♭)
                                          A♭            C♭         E♭
                                          A♭            C♭         E 𝄫
B♭           D               F♯
B♮           D               F♯
B            D♯               F♯          (A)

Similar to the octatonic scale, these chords can be used to modulate into and out of the mode. They also give it a certain tonal ubiquitousness -no particular key is emphasized, but many of these triads are not distant from each other and can hint towards particular tonal regions if the composer so chooses. There are even a few traditional tonic-dominant relationship (C – G or A♭-E♭or E♮-B♮).

The mode itself is divided into three symmetrical groups of four notes:

C                   D                  E♭                 E♮
E♮     whole       G♭      half       G♮      half       A♭
A♭     step        B♭      step       B♮      step       C

It is symmetrical along an augmented fifth – this basically means that C is equivalent to G♯ (A♭), which is itself equivalent to E♮. It will sound the same if you start the mode on C, G♯ or E♮, since each of these notes is followed by a whole-step and two half-steps. This symmetry is what gives these modes their unique character – the chromatic and whole-tone scales are such because all intervals in them are homogeneous, the symmetry is an almost immaterial byproduct of the nature of these scales. The octatonic scale is slightly more complex, as it alternates whole and half steps, but is still only has two variations: it either begins with a half step or a whole step. The third mode is symmetrical in a less obvious way: it folds over itself in thirds, and each third is equivalent.

The guitar is particularly well suited for observing these unique characteristics – perhaps moreso than the piano because of the fretboard’s logical chromatic layout.  Arbitrary placement of white and black keys don’t detract from the relatively simple underlying patterns. For example, look again at the first transposition – the pattern on the first fret repeats itself exactly on frets 5, 9, 13, 17, 21…. etc. You really only need to memorize the fingering patterns for four frets to play the mode up and down the entire neck! It’s almost deceptively simple when applied to guitar.

No worries if you haven’t been able to follow all of the theory so far – just take the first transposition and play around with it, and all of these relationships will fall into place. It’s so much easier and more effective to just soak it up in a purely musical sense than to try to explain things with feeble words and theory. I can’t stress it enough – this mode is awesome. Invest an hour to learn at least one transposition and mess around with it.

Octatonicism

The octatonic scale is not new to guitarists, in jazz it’s commonly known as the diminished scale because it is essentially two diminished seventh chords superimposed to form an 8-note scale. Like the whole-tone scale, Messiaen did not invent it, but he categorized it as the second mode of limited transposition. The scale simply alternates between whole and half steps, and you can begin with either a half or a whole step.

This scale has three transpositions and, comme toujours, no tonic:

Consider the first transposition (E, F#, G, A, Bb, C, C#, D#) in terms of two diminished seventh chords:

E       G       Bb       Db 
    F#      A         C         Eb

Also note a few major/minor triads that are native to the scale:

A        C#        E       (G)
A        C         E
         C         E        G        (Bb)
         C         Eb       G
                   Eb       G         Bb        (Db)
                   Eb       Gb        Bb
                            F#        A#         C#         (E)
                            F#        A          C#
                                      A          C#          E      (G)

These can act as pivot chords for modulation into and out of the octatonic scale from any major or minor key that has one of these chords. Each major chord can also act as a dominant 7th, still native to the octatonic scale (noted in parenthesis).

To me, the octatonic is far more interesting than the whole-tone – it can be easily incorporated into a piece of tonal music with these major/minor triads, and it sounds much richer than the whole-tone scale. The octatonic scale also lends itself very well to guitar, and has really helped me break out of some ruts by challenging my muscle-memory comfort zone. Surely all guitarists know the feeling – you rely too much on your fingers, allowing them to think for you, and the bastards only want to play what they’re used to. They defy us and any attempts to change their old habits, crapping on your creativity in the process. Sometimes these episodes last for months, and I’ve found the only way to fix the problem is to introduce radically new material, and play it exclusively. A musical shock-and-awe which your body will attempt to reject, but a necessary step towards progress. Upon returning to your old habits, you’ll see everything in a delicious new limelight, and fascinating new patterns you’ve never noticed before will suddenly emerge.

The octatonic is one of my favorites – I highly recommend it to anyone with an open mind looking to open it up a bit more.

Whole-tone Fretboard

I love Messiaen – his harmonic language makes me tingle. Unfortunately, he never wrote a note for guitar – perhaps he was dissuaded by the instrument’s somewhat dry, brittle timbre, inability to sustain notes, limited dynamic range and general obscurity in classical western canon. Whatever the case, everyone and their grandmother seem to own a guitar today, so it’s about damn time people start writing for it (by “writing” I don’t mean throwing together 4 diatonic chords in 4/4 time… there’s far too much of that crap, whatever you may want to call it, going on these days).

As a guitarist/composer I’ve been exploring various applications of Messiaen’s modes of limited transposition on the guitar, with tremendously frugiferous results. The first, and perhaps most famous, is the whole-tone scale, popularized by Debussy. Messiaen obviously did not “invent” it, but he categorized it as the first mode of limited transposition. Messiaen himself didn’t use it too often, believing that Debussy had taken it as far as it could go. I would have to respectfully disagree. While I myself haven’t come up with any earth-shattering masterpieces, I hope that guitarists will start experimenting a bit more with it. I would rather hear a whole-tone heavy metal solo over the usual metallica-esque modal stuff any day.

Below are guitar fingerboard diagrams for both transpositions of the whole-tone scale. This is the first in a series of posts exploring the different modes on guitar. All fingerboard patterns are, unless otherwise noted, in standard tuning.

Notice the very simple pattern on the fingerboard, it is much easier to memorize than even major/minor scales. The pattern varies slightly between the G and B strings, as is always the case with the guitar’s tuning. Each position also repeats itself at regular intervals. For example, play the first transposition beginning on the open low E ascending 3 octaves to the open high e:

e —————————————-0—–|
B ———————————-1–3——–|
G —————————-1–3————–|
D ——————-0–2–4——————–|
A ————-1–3—————————–|
E —-0–2–4———————————–|

The pattern will be identical, no matter where you begin the scale. (The 5-fret stretch may be tricky for some, but there are no alternate fingerings that eliminate it).

An alternate fingering pattern:

e —————————————–2—-|
B ———————————–3–5——-|
G ————————-1–3–5————–|
D ——————-2–4———————–|
A ———1–3–5——————————|
E —-2–4————————————–|

I prefer the first one, but you should be familiar with both patterns. Personally, I find chords to be a little bit tricky, but melody and especially 2 or 3 voice counterpoint sound fantastic.

Butter the Ferocious Linguist

Mantequilla Feroz was the second “serious” piece I wrote, completed my senior year of College, performed by Counter)Induction in Spring, 2007. It is dedicated to the magnanimous Butter (hence the name) and his successful efforts at applying to graduate school in linguistics. The song is all over the place – it seems to be coming apart at the seams. To me, it’s a somewhat painfully clunky early effort, although it has certain beautiful isolated moments. Prior to completion, I had just heard the final movement of Messiaen’s Turangalila symphony for the first time, and took many liberties with the presentation of very divergent materials. With only one listen, my ear hadn’t yet grasped the underlying consistencies in Turangalila, and it seemed liked a huge, episodic monument of tremendously divergent themes juxtaposed one after the other. Messiaen pulled it off because 1) he’s a damn genius, and 2) it was a recapitulatory movement, and he was simply revisiting themes that had already been hashed out. I naively approached my short chamber piece with these ideas fresh on my mind – ready to make some origami with a chainsaw.

The solo opening melody is butter, unadulterated. Chilling, breathing, gradually unraveling entirely at its own pace, completely impervious to its surroundings. The melody dominates all musical parameters until around 1 minute. As the work progresses, the melody runs into a few obstacles, gets slightly beat up, altered, is thrust into new, ever stranger environments. Uncertainty prevails, and the listener begins to wonder if he’ll ever hear from Butter again. A terribly deformed version is heard at 3.20′ – accentuated with a gliss.-  then a few more statements, gradually truer to the original. One never hears the “pure” full melody again, only a little bit of the tail at the very end. Has butter been lost forever?

It’s not a programmatic piece, and not to be taken literally, rather these ideas simply helped guide the general feel during the process of composition. Perhaps the most interesting thing for me is how the melody has grown to represent Butter in an almost quasi-linguistic sense. The series of notes, with their sustained tones and jerky, uneven rhythms, now have as much semantic quality as the word “butter” in my mind – they both point to the same person. This curiously speaks to the historically-specific nature of refferentialism. Except under unique circumstances (l’academie francaise and onomatopoeia come to mind), most words are rather arbitrarily assigned to their referents over generations of linguistic evolution.

I expect to use this melody again and again to represent butter in my future works