Helen Bledsoe

Category: pet peeves

  • Bisbigliando or Not?

    Let’s do some logic:

    I assume the answer is “no” – at tempo = 60 this is not really rapid.

    Again my guess is “no”, neither the notation nor the tempo would qualify this as a tremolo.

    Again the logical conclusion is “no”. It does not fit the criteria for a tremolo or a trill.

    So why do we sometimes encounter this notation shown above? Slow-moving harmonic changes are in no way a tremolo, trembling, or whispering, therefore, not bisbigliando. So I would genuinely love to know why this notation above persists; why is the term “bisbigliando” written sometimes over slow harmonic changes? Why does this continue to be taught, where does this tradition come from, and what kind of logic it is based on?

    Please, convince me!

    Here are some reasons why this notation is problematic. In essence, this is a term for harp players. A little appropriation among musical terms is fine, but I think this extrapolation meaning “any movement between harmonics regardless of context” is misleading. Sometimes a passage can be played with a change in harmonics AND bisbigliando/timbre trill, therefore it makes more sense to be specific. Do you want the slow change of harmonics? Do you want a timbral trill? Do you want both?

    So if you don’t really want a timbral trill, what would you write in the passage shown above? The good news is: nothing! You don’t need a descriptive word or any notational elaborations, because the notation speaks for itself. If you want a descriptive word, perhaps use “sotto voce”, “lontano”, “quasi niente” or something to that effect, if it is something atmospheric you are after.

  • Lumping and Splitting Part III

    Subtitle: the Great Jet Whistle Lump

    (for an introduction to the topic of Lumping and Splitting, read Part I)

    “Airy Sound” is an indication that I come across very often. Although I use it myself in my own pieces, I am aware that it’s a whole kettle of lumped-together fish!

    For flutists, the main distinction that has to be made is whether the air should go:

    1. across the flute in normal playing position (pitched air sounds), or
    2. into the flute with the mouth covering the embouchure hole (unpitched air sounds)

    I want to write about the second type, these “unpitched air” or “inside flute” sounds. They are interesting for several reasons:

    1. you can make filtered noise with sibilant sounds (“s” – “sshhh”)
    2. you can play with vowel sounds (“ooh” – “iii”)
    3. you can mess around with speech (if you like muffled effects – bear in mind, speech produced with the hole covered will neither carry nor be understood, unless amplified).
    4. you can buzz around like a trumpet (not great for your embouchure, I like to do this in improv for shorts bursts, though)
    5. you can play jet whistles

    OK, I have listed at 5 things you can do, and there are definitely more. But let’s not muddy the waters, let’s look at the ones that deal with just air, numbers 1, 2, and 5. These are all quite distinct techniques that sound very different.

    So why, WHY, do some composers lump all these techniques together and call them “Jet Whistle”? This is lumping on a grand scale.

    On Rogier de Pijper’s very useful webpage, he defines: “Jet whistle is a forceful and loud attack of air. It might be associated with the starting of a jet plane, that’s why they are called Jet whistle”. Exactly. Anything slower or softer is just an aeolian / airy sound with the embouchure hole covered, no jets involved.

    It’s valid to imagine how a jet whistle would sound slowed-down, and one can do it a bit slowed down, the way a flutist would blow into their flute to warm it up. This is still a fairly quick action that needs time for breathing and to change the embouchure position. It takes air to get those upper harmonics resonating. Longer effects would be better served by writing a covered-embouchure air sound with the vowels “ooh — iii — ooh”, where the dashes represent gradual changes.

    So why don’t I accept these longer effects as a “slowed-down” jet whistles? Because from the flute perspective, it’s very different on the technical production level, and because there are many other ways you can imagine this kind of slow, air/aeolian sound, with different combinations of shapes, vowels and sibilant sounds. This is where it pays to be specific, because there are so many different, wonderful, whooshing sounds possible on the flute! Why be generic?

    For tips on how to notate air sounds, see this blog entry or this video on pitched air sounds or this video on unpitched air sounds. For a more general video on consonant and vowel colorations for flute, see this tutorial here.

  • Lumping Whistles and Splitting Pizzes (Part 1)

    In the realm of notation of extended techniques, the phenomenon of Lumpers and Splitters is alive and well. First, a short explanation of this phenomenon, then I will give you my take on how lumpers and lumping seems to be the dominant force behind recent notation trends. In Part 2 I will discuss where I think lumping makes sense, and where it doesn’t.

    The first known use of this term is attributed to Charles Darwin, and is defined by Wikipedia as “opposing factions in any discipline that has to place individual examples into rigorously defined categories.” Continuing with the Wikipedia definition, a “lumper” is a person who assigns examples broadly, assuming that differences are not as important as signature similarities. A “splitter” is one who makes precise definitions, and creates new categories to classify samples that differ in key ways.” I first came across this term while reading about the findings of hominin fossils in East Africa. Do the collections of fossils represent one species, or several? A lumper would say one species, a splitter would say many.

    In fields where there is only a very small sample size, or there is little objective, material criteria, such as (historical) linguistics, religion, software engineering, you will find these discussions. Among musicologists, there are lumpers and splitters who debate on the periodization of our (Western) musical history.

    I am seeing a definite tendency towards lumping in the notation of extended techniques: using the term jet whistle to refer to diverse air/aeolian sounds, referring to multiphonics as split tones (no pun intended!), or all sorts of pizzicati referred to as slaps.

    As to why there is this trend, “splits can be lumped more easily than lumps can be split” is perhaps the simplest explanation. And we all know that the more information that is out there, the less overview there is, and fewer people will take the time to try to navigate it. Therefore, the lowest common denominator prevails.

    In my practice, I think it makes sense to lump some techniques, whereas other techniques could be more effective if they were subject to more differentiation.

    More about that in Part 2.

  • Postlude to a Premiere

    This is more of a public diary entry and notes-to-self than any sort of attempt to give tips or tools. Also, I attempt to sort out my thoughts of how things have changed in Darmstadt since the late 90s.

    It’s been a few days since I premiered Georges Aperghis’ fascinating and wonderful The Dong with the Luminous Nose, and I am tired of mental postmortem self-criticisms that keep bubbling up into my consciousness. I need head-space for my next projects!

    This piece really should be played from memory. The fact that my main achievement of the evening is I didn’t f-up the page turns with my page flipper is a testimony to that. And that the batteries didn’t run out. The list of why I didn’t play from memory is a long one – the final version of the piece was set 3 weeks before, and in that time period I had an opera to play, a family to have a kind of summer vacation with, and very time-consuming hobbies.

    I was glad that there was a quality video recording, but am also happy that the recording is being removed from YouTube today, because although as a performance it was ok, I don’t want it to be the “definitive” version of the piece. Although that is a kind of joke. Little of the dramatic actions, voices, costume, that I did is actually in the score, so there never was and never will be a “definitive” version. There are no indications of how gestures are to be performed, the piece also has only two dynamic indications. For me, this is poses a very interesting interpretive situation, and has many parallels to my study and engagement with electronic music composition. Like electronic music, music that involves declamation of spoken text, a mixture of spoken text with instrumental sounds and dramatic gestures, cannot be prescribed with conventional musical notation. It puts performance, and not the written score, at its center. (Watch this documentary about Aperghis and musical theater if you want to know more about his esthetic.)

    This situation for me was interesting because I gave the premiere in Darmstadt, where composition, composers and the “text” of music, i.e., the score, have historically been the focus of attention and resources. When I first attended in the 90s, I was struck by the hegemony of composers there, and their dominance, along with big-name festival organizers, in the whole contemporary music scene. There were very few composer-performers as role models in Darmstadt at that time (Markus Stockhausen was one exception), and the concept of composer-performer or improviser was neither thematized, promoted, nor rewarded. I was even advised there by a local composer to “stay away from the improv scene”, those players were really considered lame. This has changed, and I think this normalization is due to rapidly evolving technology and the emerging inclusiveness that is the result of successful activism and increased “woke-ness” by our cultural power structures.

    As pointed out in Live Electronic Music, Composition, Performance, Study, our music history is written “from the perspective of the composer and rarely from that of the performer. Compositional outcomes have been the backbone of music historiography since it began in the 19th century”. This book examines questions of musical texts that are “nonexistent, incomplete, insufficiently precise or transmitted in a nontraditional format” from many perspectives (that of composer, performer, audio engineer to name a few). Historically, it makes sense that anything that leaves a paper trail (a score) will become a source for academics to pour over. We love artifacts. They provide a basis for taxonomies, give credibility, establish lineages, give credence to ideas. Since recording technology has developed, we have now another fixed source, that of recorded performances, over which to pour. This has “…opened up new perspectives, which have contributed to the revitalization of the performer’s role and the concept of music as performance.” I love this book!

    Now is the time for composer/performers, improvisers, and those who work with media whose sounds cannot be codified/”textified” by a score, to assume more prominence in our Western music history and the power structures that determine our cultural life.

  • Too Many Flutists

    The phrases “there are too many flutists today”, and “conservatories are producing too many flutists for too few jobs” may be true in a certain respect, but they really sadden me. And piss me off, if I really admit. It has been hard to put my finger on exactly why, but when a friend posted Seth Godin‘s “Toward abundant systems“, it helped me to put my thoughts in order.

    Industrialism is based on scarcity. So is traditional college admissions. In fact, much of the world as we know it is based on hierarchies, limited shelf space, and resources that are difficult to share.

    These are his opening words. He goes on to describe which systems thrive on abundance rather than scarcity (language, for example). Then he makes a convincing argument that we need to realize education as an abundant system too, rather than the scarce one that it is today.

    He sees this realization as a cultural turning point. I would also like to see a turning point in our musical culture, and its education, as we realize that music, and in my personal argument, flute playing (and by implication earning a living as a flutist) as an abundant system. That means a turning away from the narrow training on offer at most music schools. I believe this narrowness is at the root of “too many flutists”, not the lack of orchestral jobs. Yes, there are too many flutists for too few orchestral jobs.

    What lies behind this “too many flutists” statement is the arrogant implication that “in order to be a good flutist, you must win an orchestral audition”. This may be unconsciously arrogant, but nevertheless it is unsupportable. Even more perfidious are those individuals and institutions that attempt to capitalize on the scarcity of orchestral jobs by setting themselves as the elite arbiters of what is the right way or wrong way to play.

    Being an orchestral player has a status in its own right. We should refuse to let scarcity define this status.

    Yes, aspiring orchestral players need top trainers. But as I have written elsewhere, young players need more.

    In closing, I paraphrase Godin’s words: if we can break [musical] education out of the scarcity mindset and instead focus on learning that happens despite status not because of it, then we can begin to shift many of the other power structures in our society.

    A shift of power structures means a shift of resources, and that is definitely what the Arts need now!

  • Electro-Flute

    “Music is Love” – Anthony Braxton

    Lately I have been more interested in creating and producing sounds than words. It has been difficult to distill my experiences of the last season in to words, so I have not been blogging. Over this blastedly hot summer “vacation”, I decided to take only Anthony Braxton’s Composition no. 133 with me to practice. Having re-visited Stockhausen’s PARADIES in May, I was eager to work on a piece that has a similar concept, that of given material in strophes where the performer has a certain amount of freedom to shape the material. Braxton’s piece allows for much more freedom than Stockhausen’s, but does not include an electronic track. But then I thought, why should it not include an electronic backing? And the thought snowballed.

    There are not enough really excellent pieces for flute and fixed media, in my opinion, and even fewer that include improvisation or some sort of freedom for the performer. It seems that a lot of really experiment-oriented composers are writing for live electronics and processing. Which is really cool! But for those of us performers who want an easy set-up of solo work, some speakers and a microphone that we can play in simple venues such as clubs or art galleries where there are no technicians and only a small budget, I for one would welcome some really good new works for fixed media that include some sort of side-stepping from the fixed-composed tradition.

    I’ll tell you why I think this departure from fixed composition is important at this point in time. Almost every piece that I hear for flute and fixed media is using the same flute sounds (and in some cases, electronic sounds) that have been around since the 1980s! It is time to find some different sounds. No wonder composers seem more interested in live processing flute sounds. But I don’t want the world to give up on fixed media yet because of the practicalities mentioned above, and its potential awesomeness!

    I have several unhatched plans to remedy this situation which include collaboration with several artists willing to include improvisation or elements thereof in their pieces. I have been working on creating compositions of my own (not for Braxton’s piece though, I have decided to leave that alone). The learning curve has been quite steep but I am loving delving in to the world of sampling, granulation, processing, etc. So back to creating sounds instead of words 🙂

    Photo credit: Hans Peter Schaefer

  • Composing for Flute, advice and warnings

    Composing for Flute, advice and warnings

    Here is a running list of salient points from my separate blog entries together in one place. This is a work in progress, so any tips are welcome. For more advice on composing for flute, you can view all entries in the categories: Composing for Flute, or pet peeves.

    Range of the Flute and the Characteristics of its Octaves: for a full rant on the subject, read here.

    First_OctaveThe first octave of the flute has a special timbre due to the fundamental being relatively
    weak in relation to its first partial ( a partial can also be called a harmonic partial or overtone). Projection over other sounds doesn’t come easily in this register. Dynamics are possible and are produced by adding and subtracting the upper partials of the sound.

    First_Octave_C_to_E

    A special word about the lowest notes of the flute. These are produced by the right hand pinky on the foot joint of the flute. Fast passages that are not purely chromatic or scalar can be difficult because they require sideways motion. Consider writing fast passages for these lowest notes on alto flute. A fluid motion from B – C# is not possible because the C/natural roller lies in between the B roller and the C# lever.

    Cis The middle C# of the flute deserves special mention. Because it is the open note of the flute it has a naturally hollow timbre. Debussy used this to great effect in the opening of his L’Après-midi d’un Faune. Although it technically lies in the second octave, its projection possibilities are limited due to its lack of upper partials in the sound.

    Second_OctaveThe second octave of the flute doesn’t contain as many caveats, but beware writing these notes as harmonics (see below).

     

     

    Third_Octave

    The third octave is where the flute can really shine in an orchestral situation. However, sustained quiet passages, or dynamics al niente or dal niente can be difficult for the highest notes of this range. It may better to use piccolo, especially if the passage contains rapid notes. At the highest latitudes, writing fast passages on piccolo instead of flute can save a flutist hours of practice and physical therapy.

    One assumption composers commonly make is to write loud sustained passages in this range on piccolo instead of the flute, thinking that the piccolo will project more. The third octave of the flute projects quite differently than the second octave of the piccolo. If you want a brilliant sound for sustained notes this register, use flute and not piccolo. It is really a color choice.

    A mistake composers often make is to write these notes as harmonics, thinking that this will make them quieter and give them a more détimbré sound. That may be so on string instruments, but from around F or G up in this register on the flute, harmonics require more air and a higher air speed, and are therefore difficult to produce quietly. If you want a special quiet sound, find a special fingering that vents the sound and doesn’t rely on an overblown fundamental. However, if you want a full overblown sound, the harmonics in this register work very well.

    Fourth_Octave

    Use the fourth octave sparingly, especially when writing for young players. A non-harmful 4th octave technique takes time to develop. In ensemble or orchestral music with extended or technical passages in this register, please consider using piccolo. If the passage contains sustained notes in this register, piccolo is also better.

    In this range, the flute will be heard, no matter how many ppp‘s a composer writes. Loud dynamics only. The remarks about harmonics in the third octave also apply here.

    If you have read this far and this high, and are wondering whether to use flute or piccolo, here is a flow chart to help you decide (or give you too many options):

    Trills: avoid the following trills on the flute. They involve a sideways motion of the right hand little finger instead of the quick up-down motion that produces a good trill.

    No_No_Trills

    Harmonics:

    ForbiddenHarmonics

    Since harmonics are produced by overblowing on the flute, the first octave notes cannot be produced as harmonics. The E-natural, F and F-sharp in the second octave are not available as harmonics because the fingering is the same in the first octave as in the second. They are already harmonics.

    As mentioned above, quiet harmonics are difficult above the upper third register. If you want quiet, especially sustained sounds with a special timbre, consider using alternate fingerings rather than true harmonics. Read why here.

    Multiphonics:  Basic guidelines:

    • write the fingering (or for extended passages where this will clutter the notation, provide the fingering in the performance instructions).
    • use an intuitive template for writing the fingerings, such as those in Robert Dick’s The Other Flute. A good online fingering template can be found here.
    • unless you are a flutist yourself, I would not advise using online resources such as  The Virtual Flutist. When a resource shows every single pitch that can be produced by a certain fingering, it doesn’t necessarily follow that a multiphonic can be created from these pitches. Try it with a live player before trusting a theoretical projection of the flute’s acoustic response.
    • if you want to give the flutist a choice of multiphonics based around a certain pitch, Mbeware that the lowest pitches will produce only harmonic multiphonics. The second measure, the C in the second octave, gives more inharmonic possibilities than the first.
    • take care of the surrounding dynamics in an ensemble situation. The flutist has to be able to hear him/herself well enough to produce these sounds accurately.

    For Q & A about writing for mulitphonics, read here. Or here is a handy flow chart as to clear up some of your questions. Please note this is regarding ensemble writing, not necessarily solo writing:

    Jet Whistle: A really high-powered jet whistle needs time and quite a bit of air to set up. For best effect, have a rest (ca. one second) before and after a jet whistle. It is too often that composers think of a jet whistle as a kind of climax or punctuation after a phrase, as in the following example. But there are two problems: 1) There is no time to set the embouchure 2) There is no time to breathe. It bears repeating, if you want a full force jet whistle, give the player time to set it up.

    JetWhistle

    Harmful things:

    • Slamming hands onto the key work. A key click is OK.
    • Immersing part of the flute in water.
    • Closed embouchure techniques on wooden mouthpieces. (Tongue ram, jet whistle, etc.)  Saliva contains enzymes that will degrade the wood over time.
    • Extreme temperatures.

    Some pet peeves:

    • Using empty note heads to indicate air or aeolian sounds in an ensemble situation. Please see my tips on this subject.
    • Extended techniques stacked up on top of one another. It is easy to think that this will make the sound more interesting and intense. Some techniques cancel each other out and just muddy the waters. Better to pick a few that work acoustically well together.
    • Landscape layout for parts. The pages take up too much horizontal space on the music stand – having more than 2 pages open requires more stands. If you need to enlarge the score, it takes up even more room. See how Grisey’s Périodes looks on the music stand – impractical:

     

  • Which extended techniques are harmful to flutes?

    During composer workshops, I am sometimes pleased to hear the question: “What are some techniques we should definitely not use because they may harm your instrument?”

    So I will keep a running list here.

    • Slamming your hands onto the keywork. A snap of the finger for a key click is one thing (and not all flutists like to do this, including myself), but once I was actually asked to raise my arm above my head and bring my hand down full force on the keywork. Repeatedly. For some reason, I had trouble convincing this particular composer that this might actually break or bend the posts and rods holding the keys in place.
    • Immersing part of the flute in water. If water, even a tiny drop, gets onto the key pads, the pad can swell up and not seal properly (and it may need to be replaced). The same can happen when pads are exposed to excess moisture, which is why I do not like to play out of doors, but that can’t be helped sometimes.
    • Putting your mouth directly on wooden lip plates. This is why I get out my plastic piccolo if I have to do a tongue ram or any percussive effect that requires me to close the embouchure hole with my mouth. Salivation is the first stage of digestion, and I don’t want the result of those chemical processes on finely carved wood.
    • (Not an extended technique, but please bear in mind.) Extreme temperatures. With metal flutes, key pads and the mechanism might go out of adjustment. With wooden instruments, it can be fatal! Some insurance companies will not even pay out if damage occurred while the instrument was below or above certain temperatures.

    I am sure I have forgotten something!