on expanding resonances (2010) - [LISTEN]
- for 9 string quintets, 4 percussion, and electronics
- the strings surround the audience, with the conductor
in the center
- 4 percussion and 2 speakers are at front
- green dots indicate that string player also has a
Tibetan singing bowl
- the strings surround the audience, with the conductor
in the center
- 4 percussion and 2 speakers are at front
- green dots indicate that string player also has a
Tibetan singing bowl
Program notes
On expanding resonances speculates on the origins and evolution of the universe, and is in five main sections.
To depict primordial existence before the Big Bang, the strings tremolo on the wood of their instruments to produce an airy sound like leaves blowing in the wind. Waves of this sound travel out from center while harmonic glissandos fall from the back of the hall to the front. Because my piece is “micro-polyphonic” - that is, every single part different, it is possible to orchestrate intricate gestures that travel through the space surrounding the listener. Once the glissandos have made their descent, waves of grunting sounds (heavy-pressure sul tasto) begin violently exploding out from center. This energy collapses to G at the center but rapidly disappears. Then, an electronic ripping sound leads to a massive amount of energy released by the bass drums and tam-tam, originally conceived as the Big Bang itself.
In the second section, I still wanted to orchestrate waves, but I wanted them to be more sporadic. To realize this, I created a game. First of all, there must be an assistant conductor to keep the beat for the percussion. Each string player memorizes a short set of pitches, and trills sul ponticello while watching the principal conductor. The conductor “sculpts” the sound by cueing specific quintets to make loud and wild tremolos. He can thus sculpt waves of these tremolos throughout the hall. When the conductor is not gesturing towards a player, that player resumes quieter trills.
For the next section, the principal conductor resumes the beat and each string quintet is now conceived of as a galaxy, a total of nine in my model universe. Within a quintet, each person plays rhythms on a pitch, swelling and dying away before moving to the next pitch in the series. Each player is in canon with the one adjacent. This creates the effect of one pitch growing out of the previous one. Furthermore, each quintet is a transposition of all the others and in canon with all the others. The big picture, then, is a long cycle of slowly morphing harmonies. One can hear the decay of previous pitches and the onset of new ones emerging out of the mass at different rates.
After a sustained time of this music, the first of forty-five players gets swallowed into the center of a “galaxy”, playing an easily recognizable motive (their previously memorized pitch-set in diminution fading to nothing). Those swallowed into the center of a galaxy will later emerge playing high harmonics, the “nuclei” of the galaxies. It is nearly imperceptible to the audience at first, but as more and more players begin the high harmonics, the sound comes to the fore. Ultimately, this process leads to the inevitable: the morphing harmonies swirl away one part at a time, leaving the harmonic nuclei exposed. There is then a section of all harmonics, bowed crotales, and bowed vibraphone.
The fifth and last section of the piece involves cosmic “dark energy” dissipating the harmonics, analogous to the ultimate victory of entropy. Dark energy in my piece is portrayed very literally by the sound made by dragging a large bouncy ball around the skin of a bass drum. Thunder sheet, cymbals, and electronic pink noise transition out of this sound mass. When these sounds too die away, basses sustain a low D and 5 Tibetan singing bowls distributed within the string sections, struck with very soft bass drum mallets, echo into eternity.
On expanding resonances speculates on the origins and evolution of the universe, and is in five main sections.
To depict primordial existence before the Big Bang, the strings tremolo on the wood of their instruments to produce an airy sound like leaves blowing in the wind. Waves of this sound travel out from center while harmonic glissandos fall from the back of the hall to the front. Because my piece is “micro-polyphonic” - that is, every single part different, it is possible to orchestrate intricate gestures that travel through the space surrounding the listener. Once the glissandos have made their descent, waves of grunting sounds (heavy-pressure sul tasto) begin violently exploding out from center. This energy collapses to G at the center but rapidly disappears. Then, an electronic ripping sound leads to a massive amount of energy released by the bass drums and tam-tam, originally conceived as the Big Bang itself.
In the second section, I still wanted to orchestrate waves, but I wanted them to be more sporadic. To realize this, I created a game. First of all, there must be an assistant conductor to keep the beat for the percussion. Each string player memorizes a short set of pitches, and trills sul ponticello while watching the principal conductor. The conductor “sculpts” the sound by cueing specific quintets to make loud and wild tremolos. He can thus sculpt waves of these tremolos throughout the hall. When the conductor is not gesturing towards a player, that player resumes quieter trills.
For the next section, the principal conductor resumes the beat and each string quintet is now conceived of as a galaxy, a total of nine in my model universe. Within a quintet, each person plays rhythms on a pitch, swelling and dying away before moving to the next pitch in the series. Each player is in canon with the one adjacent. This creates the effect of one pitch growing out of the previous one. Furthermore, each quintet is a transposition of all the others and in canon with all the others. The big picture, then, is a long cycle of slowly morphing harmonies. One can hear the decay of previous pitches and the onset of new ones emerging out of the mass at different rates.
After a sustained time of this music, the first of forty-five players gets swallowed into the center of a “galaxy”, playing an easily recognizable motive (their previously memorized pitch-set in diminution fading to nothing). Those swallowed into the center of a galaxy will later emerge playing high harmonics, the “nuclei” of the galaxies. It is nearly imperceptible to the audience at first, but as more and more players begin the high harmonics, the sound comes to the fore. Ultimately, this process leads to the inevitable: the morphing harmonies swirl away one part at a time, leaving the harmonic nuclei exposed. There is then a section of all harmonics, bowed crotales, and bowed vibraphone.
The fifth and last section of the piece involves cosmic “dark energy” dissipating the harmonics, analogous to the ultimate victory of entropy. Dark energy in my piece is portrayed very literally by the sound made by dragging a large bouncy ball around the skin of a bass drum. Thunder sheet, cymbals, and electronic pink noise transition out of this sound mass. When these sounds too die away, basses sustain a low D and 5 Tibetan singing bowls distributed within the string sections, struck with very soft bass drum mallets, echo into eternity.
