THE GENERAL THOUGHT PROCESS OF SCORING (or, why i put the things where i put the things).
As stated multiple times already, HUH WHAT? is about language, but language is a versatile and multi-faceted concept. In many cases, language is split into two: the written and the spoken. Even though the written and spoken facets of a language are in the same language and use the same words and grammar, they are extremely separate beings when it comes to their use in society, their accessibility, their different problems, and their different benefits. So, if I am writing a recital in which I am interrogating the broad concept of “language”, I need a cover a lot, so I need to split it up.
The ensemble’s scores are interrogating the “written”; written works are graphic and readable, as are printed scores. In the parts I challenge the language of scores by using indications that are not common within the language of music[1] and strange layouts (see HUH?), but by far the most predominant feature of their parts are the IMLs, which are meant to look like a fake (or constructed) language. When writing an IML, I am trying to keep two things in mind: what the general aesthetic of the piece is (Hydrophile is wave-like and ever-flowing, while Can of Beans is messy and terrorful), and what the function of the IML is in that place. Do I want the musicians to make a lot of noise, or do I want short blips? Do I want them to be loud, to be taking part in the whole range of their instrument, or do I just want them in the bottom half and quiet? How do I want their eyes to move through the IML?
On the other hand, the vocals are primarily focused on the “spoken”; what words sound like, how speech patterns and tone of voice and accent can change the feeling of a word. The addition of cues for how to speak a phrase, in particular what voice to use, are all extensions of language not commonplace in the world around us. Additionally, the words spoken don’t have much ulterior or hidden meanings or messaging, the fact that these words don’t hold weight or resemblance to anything else is unusual. Another important factor of the vocals is that I am singing, or saying, these lyrics, and I'm not singer. I know this, and I've designed to lyrics to be spoken rather than be said, but more important than the fact that I'm not a singer is that I'm an improviser, and I've been improvising in my speech ever since high school presentations.
When writing the parts, something I kept in mind always was their place on a scale of the abstraction of language, or, how far removed from traditional scoring they were. In the ensemble, the order is drums, bass, clarinet, guitar, and synth. Because the drums and bass were taken by two Jazz students (Kevin Huang and Lucy Browning), I wanted their parts to be slightly more traditional than the other parts, which were all taken by my peers in the Composition course, who had played my music before.
The ensemble’s scores are interrogating the “written”; written works are graphic and readable, as are printed scores. In the parts I challenge the language of scores by using indications that are not common within the language of music[1] and strange layouts (see HUH?), but by far the most predominant feature of their parts are the IMLs, which are meant to look like a fake (or constructed) language. When writing an IML, I am trying to keep two things in mind: what the general aesthetic of the piece is (Hydrophile is wave-like and ever-flowing, while Can of Beans is messy and terrorful), and what the function of the IML is in that place. Do I want the musicians to make a lot of noise, or do I want short blips? Do I want them to be loud, to be taking part in the whole range of their instrument, or do I just want them in the bottom half and quiet? How do I want their eyes to move through the IML?
On the other hand, the vocals are primarily focused on the “spoken”; what words sound like, how speech patterns and tone of voice and accent can change the feeling of a word. The addition of cues for how to speak a phrase, in particular what voice to use, are all extensions of language not commonplace in the world around us. Additionally, the words spoken don’t have much ulterior or hidden meanings or messaging, the fact that these words don’t hold weight or resemblance to anything else is unusual. Another important factor of the vocals is that I am singing, or saying, these lyrics, and I'm not singer. I know this, and I've designed to lyrics to be spoken rather than be said, but more important than the fact that I'm not a singer is that I'm an improviser, and I've been improvising in my speech ever since high school presentations.
When writing the parts, something I kept in mind always was their place on a scale of the abstraction of language, or, how far removed from traditional scoring they were. In the ensemble, the order is drums, bass, clarinet, guitar, and synth. Because the drums and bass were taken by two Jazz students (Kevin Huang and Lucy Browning), I wanted their parts to be slightly more traditional than the other parts, which were all taken by my peers in the Composition course, who had played my music before.
[1] Indications which are often it’s in Italian? I don’t understand the use of Italian in music, I understand tradition, but you can get so much more interest out of “dragging through mud” or “vaguely lounge jazz”.