1

The Analysis of Mixed Electroacoustic Music:

Kaija Saariaho’s Verblendungen,a case study

Alan Stones

2000

2

Contents

Part I

Introduction 1

The Piece 6

i. Graphic Score 8

ii. Sonogram 16

iii. Orchestral Score 20

Part II: The Analysis 22

1. Start – 5’00” 23

i.. Identification of Materials 30

ii. Segmentation 34

iii. Rhythm and time 37

iv. Pitch, Harmony and Panning 47

2. Tape Solo 50

3. The End 56 Conclusion 60

Sound Recordings Used 63

Bibliography 64

3

Appendix 1: Graphic Score (0’00”-5’00”)

Appendix 2: Sonogram (0’00”-5’00”)

4

Part 1

Introduction

The analysis of electroacoustic music is a problematic area. Unlike approaches to

purely instrumental music, it is not possible to call upon several hundred years of

analytical thought and methodology. Indeed, despite the connections made between

electroacoustic music and its analysis by Pierre Schaeffer at the birth of musique concrète

and his subsequent attempts to develop such methods in A la recherche d'une musique

concrète (1952) and Traité des objects musicaux (1966), the intervening forty or so years

have seen a surprising lack of analytical consideration of electroacoustic music, especially

given the large number of musical works produced. Marco Stroppo wrote, rather

despairingly, in 1984:

One might have expected such a wealth of pieces to have stimulated major theoretical comment, as was the case with instrumental music in the period after 1950. But the landscape remains surprisingly barren. There are a few important but rather general texts by established figures (like Boulez, Stockhausen, Xenakis and others) and practically nothing from the younger generation. If we count specifically examples of musical analysis, the number is reduced simply... to zero.

Stroppo, 1984, p. 176.

This situation is improving slowly, but even by 1997 a bibliographic survey of analytical

writings on specific electroacoustic works contained only nineteen entries, for the most

part concerned with acousmatic1 pieces (Camilleri and Smalley 1997). Almost nothing has

been written about mixed electroacoustic music. As a result of this lack of a substantial

body of work on the subject, no 'standard' approaches to the analysis of electroacoustic

music and mixed electroacoustic music in particular have developed. More helpfully,

Stroppo does go on to identify the main problems in carrying out such analysis. These can

1 That is, non-instrumental electroacoustic works. This title, first used by Schaeffer, has only recently (in the late 1990’s) been adopted within British electroacoustic music circles to replace the previous designation of 'tape music'. The reasons for the change are most likely to do with the demise of actual magnetic tape and its replacement with digital storage methods, and a greater awareness of electroacoustic music within French speaking communities (France and Canada) where the term is used. See Wishart (1986) for further information regarding its derivation and importance to Schaeffer.

5

be summarised into two points: the problem of the score (or its absence) and problems of

perception.

In traditional analysis of instrumental and orchestral music, with few exceptions, it

is the score which is the site of the analysis. The analyst works with the signs and symbols

of the notated score. In electroacoustic music often there is no score, as the piece is usually

made directly onto the recording medium. Or if there is a score, it will only be a partial

aspect of the piece, as is the case with mixed electroacoustic music. In both these cases,

without recourse to a fully notated symbolic representation of the work, it is the sound of

the music itself (in performance and recording) which must be analysed, as it is only here

that a full version of the piece exists. This has the "effect of catapulting the act of listening

to the fore" (Camilleri and Smalley 1998) and calls for new approaches to analysis based

upon listening, whereby the "sonic manifestation of music is the point of departure for

analysis" (ibid.).

The second issue Stroppo (1984) identifies leads on from this and poses the

question: how does one go about using listening as the basis of analysis? Stroppo himself

is concerned that listening can only reveal "a few superficial oppositions of contrast, and

little else" (ibid.) and rather dismisses its analytic use. Indeed, compared to the highly

developed tools of traditional analysis and the security of working with a score, the shift to

aural analysis (or at least an approach based upon sound) can feel rather insecure. Yet one

thing that electroacoustic (particularly acousmatic) music does is to remind us, both in its

lack of score and its opening up of compositional and formal possibilities, is that music is

sound. It is in the sound and experience of listening to a piece that we confront the music,

not in a notation of the sound. Following on from this, it seems straightforward (if not

fundamental) that in analysing electroacoustic musical works, listening should be returned

to the centre of analytic investigation, however complex or difficult the implications of this

may be.

From those analyses which have been made of electroacoustic pieces, it is clear that

it is possible to develop strategies to support and augment the heard experience of a piece

of music in various ways and to make listening a viable basis for analytical investigation.

By far the most common way this is achieved is through the making of some sort of

graphic score, that is, some form of visual representation of the aural experience of the

6

work under study. This type of score has a very different role to play analytically from a

traditional score: instead of the score object being the source of analytic investigation, it

becomes a tool in the process of making an analysis. Through repeated close listening to a

recording of a performance of the piece, attempts are made to draw what is heard. The

most basic benefits of this approach are that it allows aspects of the piece (a particular

structural feature for instance) to be referred to outside of time, and a discussion of what

has been found to begin.

Another approach has been developed which also addresses the 'score' problem

which Stroppo identifies, but this time in a very different way. A pictorial representation of

the sound of the piece is made through the use of computer spectrum analysis to produce a

sonogram: a trace of the frequencies present in the sound of the piece is made against time.

This alternative approach has the advantage that it is not itself based upon hearing (which

we do not yet usefully understand) but upon scientific process (which we do) and in this

sense provides an 'objective' view of the sound of the piece. Although it is not 'musically

intelligent' it can function in ways similar to the role of the score in traditional analysis in

that it can be consulted and information extracted from what is seen.

Before a discussion can take place to talk about what it is we find in either of these

scores, problems of terminology and language need to be considered. Just as most

traditional tools of analysis become redundant in approaching electroacoustic music, so too

does much of the language we use to talk about music. Once again, Schaeffer recognised

this problem and made it part of his early work, developing typomorphology as a way of

achieving this, by providing a lexicon of descriptive terms. This project has been most

successfully continued and extended by Smalley's spectromorphology (Smalley 1987 and

1997) which is now beginning to be more widely adopted in current analysis2.

Through the adoption of this 'common lexis' that Smalley provides, some of the

fears of basing analysis upon listening are countered, particularly the lack of a central point

of reference (which the score provides in traditional analysis) and the danger that this

might result in "unique, single and subjective readings" (Camilleri 1993). Even if Camilleri

is right in stating that these would be "limited by the structure of our perceptual-cognitive

2 As an example see Fischman (1997)

7

faculties" (ibid.), through adopting the specific set of terms and framework for description

that spectromorphology provides us with, we improve the chances of achieving some

commonality in being able to communicate what it is that we hear, if not how.

Some scientific work has begun into understanding how it is we hear and

understand what we hear, in the new disciplines of psychoacoustics and psychocognition.

However this has so far produced little that can be directly applied to the complex sound

objects encountered in electroacoustic music, nor to any widely accepted basic principles

that might form the basis of (or inform) an analytical approach. Without a secure scientific

model of our listening process, Smalley's work, based as it is upon his (musical rather than

scientific) experience as a listener and composer of electroacoustic music, does implicitly

propose a framework for analysis.

In attempting to describe what it is we hear, we begin to differentiate between

sound objects, materials or processes, and to be able to compare them. This leads to a

breaking down of the work into these perceived units, its basic units of construction, and to

the identification of the different materials of which the piece is built. We then establish

relationships between these units and materials. These fundamental functions, of

description, segmentation, and relationship-building, which would seem to have some

place in describing our listening process are provided for in the descriptive tools with

which spectromorphology equips us and will be adopted as the basis of the approach

proposed here. As an extension of this, Smalley's concept of continua and especially their

use in describing process, would seem to be especially useful in dealing with a piece of

music which is so obviously concerned with gradual change. The continua Smalley

provides (pitch⇔effluvium, attack⇔effluvium, gesture⇔texture) allow the basic nature of

the material to be identified and combine to create a three dimensional space in which

musical materials can be positioned. Processes of change can be identified by plotting

movement within this space.

Both of the approaches outlined above result in the making of scores (albeit partial

ones) and each presents a different contrasting view of the piece. In the case of the graphic

score, one which is involved and connected with listening. In the case of the sonogram, an

uninvolved (at least in the process of listening), 'scientific' view of the sound present.

8

Mixed electroacoustic works already have some form of representation, in the shape of the

orchestral or instrumental score. As has already been noted, this offers only partial

information about the piece and mostly ignores the electroacoustic element. In the case of

Verblendungen, only large-scale timing cues and overall dynamic levels of the

electroacoustic material are actually shown in the orchestral score. It does of course give us

a very detailed picture of the orchestra’s role in the piece.

One approach which will I will not be adopting in what follows is the creation of

some kind of meta- or final score, containing all the pertinent information about the piece

(mimicking the traditional score model). Instead the approach that is proposed here

acknowledges the partial nature of this instrumental score and indeed of the other two

score types mentioned. Each of these score types offers its own view of the work and so it

would seem unwise to exclude any of the help each of them might give in developing our

understanding of the piece.

As a result, all three scores will be used in the analytical process, in an attempt to

give the fullest picture of the piece possible. Instead of closing down the piece under study

and providing a single (if multi-faceted) representation of it, this approach will endeavour

to keep it as open to analytical investigation as possible. By proceeding in this way, an

analytical space is created between the poles of these different scores. Mixed

electroacoustic music is often concerned with multiple perspectives (instrumental vs.

electronic sounds, real vs. imagined, texture vs. gesture etc.). In particular, it brings

together two musical worlds, the acoustic or instrumental and the electroacoustic. One of

its particular challenges to the listener / analyst (and also to the composer), is how it

combines these two worlds, each based upon different fundamental units and ways of

hearing - the instrumental based upon the note, and the electroacoustic upon gesture and

sound objects. This would suggest that an open analytic approach is appropriate. A further

factor in support of this open, multi-perspective approach is the absence of a singular final

version of either the graphic or sonographic scores. Both can exist at different resolutions

and time-scales, as will be shown.

Each of the 3 scores mentioned above - graphic, sonographic and orchestral-

provides a different viewpoint on the musical object, and after introducing the work to be

9

analysed, Verblendungen, each perspective's strengths will be reviewed in more detail and

examples of these strengths given. However, it is in the combination of these different

viewpoints and in the exploration of the analytical space mentioned above that a fuller

picture of the piece can be seen. This will be applied in making the final analysis in part

two.

The Piece

Kaija Saariaho's Verblendungen was written between 1982 and 1984 upon

commission from Finnish Radio. The electroacoustic tape part was realised in the studios

of the Groupe de Recherches Musicales (GRM) in Paris and the completed work was given

its first performance by the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra under Esa-Pekka Salonen

(to whom the work is dedicated) in Helsinki in April 1984. Aside from the fact that it is, in

this author's view, a highly successful musical work, it has been chosen for this study

principally because it is a model mixed electroacoustic work in that it has an equal balance

of instrumental and electroacoustic elements, both in isolation and combination,

instrumental writing which ranges from melodic to textural and clear processural and

qualitative relationships between the instrumental and tape parts. In short, it is fully

engaged with the possibilities inherent in the mixing of instrumental and electroacoustic

sound. Any attempt to analyse this work should recognise these aspects and address the

particular problems arising from a piece of music which bridges both of these sound

worlds. For these reasons it provides a good case study in the analysis of mixed

electroacoustic music. It is also a work that can be described, in Emmerson's (1987) words,

as operating through an 'abstract discourse', and so this analysis concentrates upon

developing an understanding of the structure of the piece rather than any of the other

modes of discourse within which electroacoustic music can operate.

10

Despite a number of earlier acousmatic works (Cartolina per Siena (1979), Study

for Life (1980), Vers le blanc (1982)), Verblendungen is Saariaho's first mixed

electroacoustic work and can clearly be seen as marking an important point in her

compositional output. It brings together a number of central concerns of the works which

precede it, for instance the influence of the visual arts and in particular painting. Most

obviously it unites the previously separate acoustic and electroacoustic worlds. It also

points forward to many of the developments in later works, especially the series of mixed

electroacoustic pieces composed during the composer's time at IRCAM in Paris during the

late 1980's and early 1990's (Jardin Secret II (1984-6), Io (1986-7), Noa Noa (1992),

Amers (1992) and Près (1992)).

The title of this piece is taken from the novel of the same name by the Bulgarian

writer, Elias Canetti (published in English as Auto da Fe), the basic meanings in translation

being blindnesses or facings:

Dazzling, different surfaces, tissues, textures. Weights, gravity. To be blinded. Interpolations. Reflections. Death. The sum of independent worlds. Shading, refracting the colour.

Saariaho, 1985.

Saariaho has herself written about the creation of Verblendungen (Saariaho 1987) and the

compositional methods used in its making and mention should be made here of the role of

such information in this analysis. In composition, a composer makes "use of her craft, taste

and intuition" (Nuorvala 1991) the role of technique being at the disposal of "taste and

intuition"(ibid.). The relationship between a compositional tool and it specific use in a final

piece is very varied and flexible - the results of the use of certain techniques are not always

traceable in the final piece, however clearly they may appear to be presented in writings

about the piece3. To put it another way,

What a composer knows intimately, and an analyst cannot, is the process which results in material is 90 percent discarded in the final composition. Macdonald, 2000.

3 An example of this can be found in Saariaho's own writing. The process of the opening pitch structure of Verblendungen which she presents in 'Timbre and Harmony' can only be partially traced in the final piece. Of this she says "with the ear I always found a means of remodelling an uninteresting chord, often without even breaking my own rules." (Saariaho 1987, my own italics). Further mention will be made of this in part 2.

11

Therefore, any description of compositional method by the composer does not guarantee

its relevance to an analysis of the piece made by such methods. This is as potentially valid

to acoustic as it is to electroacoustic music. However,

the analysis of electroacoustic music does not coincide, as often happens also in the analysis of a great deal of instrumental music, with an examination of the compositional process of the work. Even if information on production strategies can sometimes be gathered from a hearing of the piece, it is not the main part of the analysis itself. How a composer built sounds and mounted them in a formal articulation is only useful in emphasising and correlating some physical characteristics of the sound objects which make up the work. Nothing more. This sort of warning, which in itself might seem banal, is due to the fact that, because of problems in defining sound objects and the typology of formal stucturalisation, many analyses often fall back on a reading of the compositional process, one of the few written sources available about an electroacoustic work. Camilleri, 1993.

Accordingly, Saariaho's own comments about this piece will be treated as insights and

information about the compositional process, as distinct from information about the final

piece we hear. A clear attempt will be made to base an analysis on the piece itself (as it

presents itself in performance / recording) rather than the ways in which (the composer

tells us) it was made.

i. Graphic Score

The use of graphic scores is the most common feature to be found in those analyses

which have been made of electroacoustic music. These range from rough outlines of the

overall form of a work4 through to highly detailed illustrations from which much specific

information about the piece is made visible5. However the process of making a graphic

score itself is seldom discussed in its own right, and its role in the analysis is often not

4 See Williams (1996).

12

made visible, despite its widespread use. In the approach discussed here, the graphic score

is made the chief tool of analytical investigation (supported by the other notational

materials), and so the process of making a graphic score will be described and an attempt

made to show how this action can be connected to the process of listening, and of getting

to know a piece.

One positive side-effect of this is that the speed of the process of familiarisation,

together with the formulation of our ideas of structure and materials within a musical work

can be increased - our listening is given more direction and focus. By making it a record of

our listening and cognitive processes, we are making the graphic score much more

involved in the analytical process and making the analysis itself more the presentation of

an explorative process and what has been discovered through this, than the unveiling of a

"logical and coherent synthesis of disparate segments to reconstruct a unified totality"

(Stroppo, 1985) that Stroppo envisages as being the result of a successful analytic system. I

would argue that electroacoustic music and the changes that it forces us into as listeners

also has an effect on what we should hope for as the results of analysis. Stroppo appears to

be hoping for the same kinds of results and certainties which result from traditional score

analysis to come out of electroacoustic music analysis. Through accepting a different

starting point, with listening as the basis of our analytic process, we also have to accept

differing outcomes to this process. We should not expect to be able to reveal less about

electroacoustic music in analysis than we would acoustic music, but we should expect what

we are able to reveal to be different. Instead of the model which Stroppo proposes whereby

the work is closed down at the end of the analytical process and 'explained away' through

the presentation of "a unified totality", the results of analysis should reflect some of the

flexibility, uncertainty and changeability of the listening process. Hence the proposal of a

multi-score, multi-perspective approach which avoids claims of systematisation or

simplification.

The making of graphic scores is placed at the start of the analytical process which

aims to establish a foundation of heard knowledge about the piece. This is built upon,

through the further perspectives of the work afforded by the orchestral score and

5 See Lewis (1987).

13

sonograms, developing a more detailed picture of the piece. An outline of this first stage

follows, whilst examples of the detailed view of the piece, the analysis proper, are given in

part two of this paper.

When we first listen to a piece of electroacoustic music, we are confronted "with all

problems simultaneously: no score, no system and no 'pre-segmented' discrete units like

notes. We are presented with 'music in its most general guise'"(Delande 1998). There is a

further problem which specifically presents itself when one addresses mixed

electroacoustic music. With this music we are presented with sounds of which we clearly

recognise the source. Our ears (or minds) are often highly developed and skilled in

recognising orchestral and instrumental sounds and in reducing these sounds to notes, as

the basic carriers of information in instrumental music (particularly pitch and rhythm).

What is required in making a graphic score is an application of Schaeffer's écoute réduite

(literally 'reduced listening'). We need to shift our attention (at least at this stage) away

from recognition of the source of the instrumental sound and how it was produced in order

to consider its shape and structure, its spectromorphology; to view the whole of the sound

of the piece electroacoustically.

Through our listening, as we begin to become more aware of the detail of the piece

and of its shape, we often speak, literally, of building up a mental picture of the work. This

may account for the unselfconscious use of graphic scores in many previous analyses -

perhaps they are seen as a 'natural' expression of our cognition, an external record of this

internal 'picture'. Another reason for the lack of discussion regarding the making of graphic

scores may be the factor of 'diffusion scores'. These are frequently made to assist in the

performance of acousmatic music6, either by the composer herself or by the 'performer' or

diffuser, allowing a record to be made of the details of the spatial projection of a work

through a multi-channel loudspeaker system. Thus the graphic score is a familiar, common

presence for many of those who work with electroacoustic music.

In our first listening encounters with the piece we can begin to decide on the most

important properties of the work and to break the work down into identifiable units. Even

here the analytical process has begun, in that we are firstly trying to discover what the

6 for examples see Field (1999)

14

salient sonic features of a work are, its 'pertinences' (Camilleri and Smalley 1998). These

often become apparent during the early stages of listening but may take more time to be

formed depending upon the nature of the piece, (for instance, how clearly its structure is

articulated) and the experience of the listener / analyst. Secondly, we are attempting some

segmentation of the work, to break it down into perceptual blocks. I would argue that both

of these processes occur simultaneously in our listening and are interconnected. We do not

develop ideas of the structure of a piece before we become aware of the materials that the

piece is built out of, or vice versa. As a result, our analytical approach should reflect this.

A graphic score made at this stage may not show much consistent detail of the

work, but it can already reveal some of its large-scale structure and the beginnings of

segmentation and the identification of 'pertinences'. Figure 1 shows such a score, made at

an early stage in the process of listening to Verblendungen. By attempting to make this

early stage of familiarisation visible, however sketchy the information it seems to uncover

may appear, we can record the start of the process of developing our understanding and

familiarisation with a piece.

The value of this first outline sketch is twofold: it allows us to preserve our initial

views of the work, which may well change as we become more familiar with the piece at a

later time, and become overwritten by this later view. As a result we can begin to keep

different levels of our experience of the work (through time) open to us for analytical use.

It can also give us clues as to the major concerns of a piece, those features of a work which

are easily apprehended, and which must possibly have some important structural function.

In making this first sketched score, a number of features already become apparent:

Attacks and their decays (particularly at the opening), morphologies

Pitch Ascents (and to a lesser extent descents),

Repetition/Pulsation/Iteration,

Gesture / Texture, } continua

Noise / Pitch,

15

2

3

Each of these will be shown to have structural importance at a later stage. In the more

detailed listening score (fig.2) which follows on from this and which was made with more

experience of the piece, some of these factors seem to disappear from view or become less

obvious as more detail is added to the score. This reflects our listening process, in that we

can lose sight of the over-arching structure of a work through concern with detail. The

value of the early sketch is that we can now reach back to our earlier listening experience

and compare the two views. The reflective nature of this process allows our understanding

of the work to develop more quickly. By recording what we hear at various stages through

familiarisation with the piece, we not only recognise the open, changing nature of our

relationship with a musical work (why else would we continue to listen to pieces

repeatedly?) but allow ourselves to draw visual connections between what we have

sketched, which can be explored in listening. This diagram also shows the basic

segmentation of the work. If we adopt a spectromorphological view of this process, each

unit we identify should have three parts or temporal phases: onset, continuant and

termination. Our initial basic segmentation seems to divide the work into two, a clear

structural role being played by the tape solo which occurs just after the middle of the work.

In this piece, with its slowly evolving, non-sectional nature, there appears to be some

problem in clearly identifying these three parts. The central section mentioned can clearly

be identified as belonging to the termination phase, clearly echoing the opening of the

work in its abrupt attack and density of sound and leading almost uninterruptedly to the

final fade out of the piece. However this attack is clearly led up to and prepared for in the

crescendo which precedes it, so it is not possible to mark the start of this attack as the exact

start of this temporal phase. The division between the onset and continuant is even less

clearly defined (at least on initial hearings) occurring somewhere between the fourth and

fifth minutes of the work. What appears to be happening is that there are clear areas of the

piece which we can identify as the onset (the start, obviously), continuant (by which time

the punctuating attacks of the opening have disappeared) and termination (from the tape

solo mentioned until the end). What is in doubt is the boundary between these areas and I

think this is a real feature of this piece, in that it blurs the cross-overs of these structural

areas and overlaps them, particularly in the later parts of the work, There is, between each

of these phases a time when we are in two minds, feeling both the pull back of the previous

4

phase and the pull forward of the next. Clarification of this structure will be found through

matching this top-down overview with the bottom-up process which spectromorphology

allows us, in the grouping of the basic level of named sound objects together in levels of

hierarchy, and finally in comparison with the other scores. It is at this stage, having

established a clear heard view of the piece, begun to attempt some formal segmentation

and identify the basic materials of the piece that we can widen our view of the piece with

the help of the other scores.

Before moving on to look at the sonogram and its role in the analysis, mention

should be made of the reasons for keeping the making of the graphic score and the

sonogram separate. As the sonogram provides accurate information regarding the timing of

events, for instance, and gives us a ready-made picture of the sound of the piece it might

seem sensible to be able to draw over this or develop these images into a graphic score

based upon our heard experience of the piece. This is precisely the approach which is taken

with the Acousmographe, a computer program which is currently being developed by the

G.R.M. (Teruggi, 1999) Whilst this approach is appropriate to the analysis of some

acousmatic music, in the particular case of mixed electroacoustic music, the separation of

the graphic score and sonogram has more advantages to offer. If the graphic score is made

on top of the sonogram then our visual imagination of the piece is conditioned and directed

by the sonogram's image. By making the graphic score before viewing the sonogram then

we make an image directly from our heard experience (or as near to it as is possible). This

is a difficult process and must be worked at, but it is in this working out that we develop

our understanding of what we hear, attempting to become consciously aware of our

listening process. This separation also allows us to compare the graphic score and the

sonogram to see how closely they correspond - our heard experience does not always tally

with what the computer analysis reveals and vice versa (as will be seen later) and the

computer's images of the piece may provoke us to see a feature or structure of the piece not

brought to our attention through listening. Conflating the two may make the production of

a graphic score easier but its analytic importance is reduced and our views of the work

under analysis reduced.

It is important to be able to make comparison between these separate score objects.

One straightforward way of achieving this is to adopt standard time-scales, at least for

5

similar views of the piece, as can be seen in the final detailed graphic and sonogram scores.

The graphic score is also annotated with both the bar scheme and rehearsal letters taken

from the orchestral score to easily allow comparison between the electroacoustic and note-

based views of time (the orchestral score has 'clock' timing in seconds already marked

upon it).

ii. Sonogram

The value of the sonogram as an analytical tool has been successfully demonstrated

for approaches to electroacoustic and acoustic music (Waters and Ungvary 1990). In

particular, it can be used to show the overall form of a work at a single glance. Both

Schreffler (1983) and Cogan (1985) have revealed valuable analytic information using the

sonogram, which could not have been shown using conventional analytic tools: Schreffler,

the connection between instrument and musical structure in baroque flute music; and

Cogan, the unique spectral and formal characteristics of a range of musics, from plainchant

to Stravinsky and Risset.

Despite its apparent objective scientific nature and ability to reveal previously

unseen aspects of musical works, the sonogram is far from a complete notational or

analytic solution (particularly with regard to mixed electroacoustic music). More recent

approaches, such as those taken by Helmuth (1996) in analysing her own acousmatic

music, have acknowledged these limitations and attempted to supplement purely

sonographical information, for instance charting overall dynamic levels and phrasing. Even

Helmuth fails to broaden this to include all the most pertinent aspects of electroacoustic

works however, omitting for example spatial information. The approach outlined here can

been seen as an extension of this process of supplementing sonographical information, and

in particular the idea that a single analytic viewpoint, including the sonogram, is

necessarily partial.

6

One of the basic strengths of the sonogram has been proven to be its use in giving

an overview of a work, allowing its shape to be seen at a single glance, as will be shown.

In the context of analysing mixed electroacoustic music it can also help us to reach an

assessment of the roles of the instrumental/orchestral part and the tape. Mixed

electroacoustic music often plays with blurring the boundaries between these two elements

and so it may not be possible to separate them through hearing (a recording of) a

performance. If we have access to the electroacoustic tape part as a separate recording

(which should be possible), then we can produce two parallel sonograms, one of the

'whole' performance, both acoustic and electroacoustic elements combined, and one of the

tape part only. This allows us to see the place the tape has in the final piece and coupled

with our listening of both these recordings, we are able to begin to uncover the relationship

between the two parts. This process is further supported by a close reading of the orchestral

score, (which would be our main source of information were we to be without separate

recordings).

Supplementing the sonographic image itself is the waveform display. This allows

us to see the general dynamic levels as the piece unfolds in time. It also allows us to access

spatial or panning information which the tape part may contain, through examining the

separate volume traces for each channel of sound of the tape part and comparing the height

of the trace in each channel. This can supplement our listening experience and help us

reach a highly detailed picture of this (potentially important) aspect of the work being

analysed.

Figure 3 shows a sonogram of the whole of Verblendungen. As something of an

interesting aside, mention should be made of a connection which can be clearly made to

another image concerned with this piece. Saariaho, in the paper previously mentioned

(Saariaho 1987), gives one of the initial ideas for this piece as coming from the idea of a

brush-stroke dragged across the page, and its resulting image (Saariaho 1987). This poetic

image is surprisingly close to the visual representation of the sound of the start of the work

created by computer sound analysis. Another striking aspect of the sonographic overview

given in figure 3 is the clear stress placed upon the horizontal and vertical axes - in musical

terms: harmony and rhythm.

7

8

9

At the start of the work it is possible to see a clear contrast between the strong vertical

banding in the lower trace, showing the tape part, and the horizontal lines created by the

orchestra's sound in the upper. By the very end of the piece, the tape's image has changed

from a vertical emphasis to the horizontal, as if the orchestra and tape had swapped their

initial roles. Leading on from this, we can begin to trace an overall tendency for the very

tightly clustered horizontal lines at the opening of the piece (created by the orchestra's

close harmony) to open up, moving further apart. This process reaches its conclusion in the

widely spaced lines at the very end, the tape solo (c.7' 30") showing an intermediary step in

this. We could further explore this by identifying the pitch areas within these bands,

checking them against the orchestral pitch material occurring simultaneously, moving

from large-scale observation to small detail to identify any relationships that might exist.

An example of this comparison is given in the first sectional analysis in part two.

The overview sonogram also seems to support the large-scale segmentation begun,

particularly identifying the large change in dynamic levels and graphic density near to the

middle of the piece identified as belonging to the termination phase of the piece. It also

gives us some sense of the visual weight of these two sections, showing how much darker

(louder) the opening section really is in comparison. Compared to the overview graphic

score which shows a number of different features of the work which we can further

explore, the overview sonogram gives us no real details of the piece. It is necessary to

work with more detailed sonograms which show us only a portion of the piece at a time but

allow us to see the detail of the sound of the piece. Once again this supports an open,

multiple view of the work.

iii Orchestral Score

Much less needs saying about the role of the orchestral score as an analytic tool,

simply because it is the analyst's usual tool, at least for instrumental music. It has already

been mentioned in its supporting role in examining the relationship between the orchestra

and tape. This score gives us a note-based view of the piece which, as with the basic

spectromorphological descriptive process can be characterised as bottom-up (small to large

10

scale). Its strength in the analytical process is that we have very detailed information about

the orchestra. For instance, this allows us to plot the textural changes effected by the

orchestra during the first four minutes of the piece. This is a process which we can hear but

we are unable to discern enough detail aurally to uncover its makeup. The orchestral score

allows us to move into the detail of this process, identifying aspects of its structure (as will

be seen in part two). The note-based view of the piece that this score gives us can also be

applied to hearing and understanding some aspects of the electroacoustic part of the work.

A clear example of this will be seen in the analysis given of the central tape solo, which

relies on a note-based view to uncover some of its (perceived) structure.

11

Part II : The Analysis

A full analytic study of Verblendungen in its entirety is beyond the scope of this

present study. Instead, a detailed study is made of the opening five minutes of the piece,

which includes the whole of the onset portion of the work, as previously mentioned. This is

begun through the identification of the basic sound materials within this section. The

nature of this material and the processes of change which it undergoes are then described

and, through segmentation, connections between small and large-scale form made.

Rhythmic and pitch organisation are then examined, followed finally, by an examination of

the role of spatialisation within Verblendungen.

Two further sections of Verblendungen, the central tape solo and the final few

minutes of the piece, are then considered, in more general terms, for the particular

analytical problems which they present and also in order to try to present a fuller view of

the work.

12

1. Start - 5'00" i. Identification of sound materials and the processes of change which they undergo.

The opening of Verblendungen presents a single loud attack-decay gesture in which

both tape and orchestra participate. There is a clear causal relationship between this attack

and its subsequent continuant/decay. It is possible to view this gesture, which forms the

opening three seconds of the piece, as providing an archetype, from which many aspects of

the work derive and are developed, returning in extended and reversed forms. The basic

nature of this gesture and its makeup is shown in figure 5, which also clearly identifies five

separate, clearly identifiable types of material within it, equally shared between tape and

orchestra.

Opening Gesture Archetype and Material Types.

Figure 5

The first of these is the simplest material type in both its morphology and its

structural function. Played by bass drum, this noise-based attack-impulse, when it is

present, consistently provides the causal start and initial energy burst for the attack-decay

gesture to continue. It is repeated twelve times, varying only in dynamic (decreasing from

13

ffff at the opening to f at its final sounding at rehearsal letter D) and in length (changing

between damped and undamped modes of playing).

The second material type is on tape. An attack-decay, which is initially temporally

connected with material type 1, extends its attack-impulse. Unlike material 1, it is note-

based, having a clear pitch (E1) and harmonic content, which are unchanging upon

repetition. Its spectral typology can be placed between harmonic spectrum and note proper.

It helps to contribute, together with the bass orchestral instruments (double basses, tuba,

contra-bassoon), to the sense of rooted pitch space created by the almost continuous

presence of the low E, the lowest pitch present, which exists through this section of the

work.

It is interesting to note that here, at the very start of the work, both tape and

orchestra are participating in what might be traditionally considered each other's sound

worlds: electroacoustic music most often thought of as being concerned with gesture and

texture, instrumental music with pitch and melody. The tape, in material type 2, presents a

pitched/harmonic note-based sound; the orchestra, in material type 1, contributes a noise-

based gestural sound. This crossover helps to ensure a close relationship between the two

elements, allowing them to merge, to create, together, a unified, fused, sound world of their

own.

Material type 3 occurs only three times during the opening five minutes of the work

but has a very important and clear structural role to play. Closely related to the previous

material type, it too is pitched and has in its first instance an attack-decay profile. However

it is temporally much longer, lasting at least through the first eighteen seconds of the piece

(it is not possible to identify its ending accurately as after this point it becomes obscured by

other, louder sounds on tape, particularly material type 5b). Due to its relatively low

volume it is not easily grasped as a separate sound even when listening to the opening

electroacoustic material on its own. Unlike the previous material type it has internal

timbral variety and is not note-based, having no clearly identifiable single pitch. Rather it

is best described as nodal, having identifiable pitch areas (particularly in the treble register)

rather than individual pitches. Its role at the opening is supportive, helping the other tape

sounds to fuse together as well as providing some timbral variety, rather than being easily

individually identified. Indeed it is only later on in the piece when it returns, in its reversed

14

form, gradually swelling from silence towards an attack cut-off point that it is clearly

recognised as a separate sound type, working clearly in the foreground, that its importance

emerges, marking as it does the start of both the level 5 continuant and termination phases,

providing the most obvious aural clues to these important structural points. The internal

timbral changes within the sound type are not easily categorised but perhaps best described

as cyclic and repetitive, with a clear sense of gestural direction and tension building

towards the (future) attack point, coupled with increasing dynamic levels. This is, in part,

the result of the rising pitch area, rather like a filter sweep, which occurs through this

sound. Obvious connections can be made to the other rising pitch profiles which will be

identified through this part of the piece. In both cases the cut-off points of this sound is

followed with material type 2, which provides an associated decay.

The fourth material type, which constitutes the most important, and subsequently

becomes the most developed material in this first section of the piece, is provided by the

orchestra. At the start of the piece this consists of a close, dense chord which creates an

inharmonic spectrum (that is, not belonging to the harmonic series) and provides the main

continuant/decay portion of the opening gesture (figure 6).

Opening Orchestral Chord Figure 6

The final material type identified here, provided by the tape, is a noise-based

stream of sound which, at the opening, supports the main attack-decay gesture. Closer

listening, particularly to the tape part alone, reveals two separate materials overlapped,

both closely related in their noise-based spectral typology but having different behaviours

and structural functions. The first, (5a), stays connected to the main gestural impulses,

supporting them through a series of iterations either leading up to or from the main attack-

15

impulses created by material 1. It is slightly varied in length and internal rhythmic shape

through this section but always retains one of two clearly, recognisable gestural shapes:

Material type 5b has a higher frequency range and undergoes much greater

changes, beginning as an effluvial/grain stream which gradually becomes more iterated

until it forms a series of rhythmically irregular, but clearly defined attack-impulses

(rehearsal letter E onwards), becoming more like the individual iterations within material

type 5a.

A further kind of mirroring or equality can be identified in the roles played by the

sound material types that tape and orchestra each contribute at the opening. Each presents

material that is unchanging and which takes a supporting part in the music's unfolding

(materials 1 in the orchestra and 2 and 5a on tape), as well as material which is varied and

has a primary structural role to play (4 in the orchestra and 3 and 5b on tape).

A fuller description of these materials can be made by using the three

spectromorphological continua previously discussed, the results of this identification are

shown in figure 7. An indication of the processes of change which each of these material

types undergoes in this first section of the piece is also identified here through the use of

arrows, which show the trajectory of change. Absence of change is shown by vertical

arrows.

16

Material Type 1 effluvium ..............................................↑ attack texture ..............................................↑ gesture effluvium ↑............................................. pitch Material Type 2 effluvium .........................................↑↑↑ attack texture ..............................................↑ gesture effluvium ..............................................↑ pitch Material Type 3 effluvium .....................................↑↑↑… attack texture ...............................↑.............. gesture effluvium ....................↑ ....................... pitch Material Type 4 effluvium ........→ attack texture ←............... gesture (simplified) effluvium ...........................................→ pitch Material Type 5a effluvium ............................................→ attack texture ..........................................…↑ gesture effluvium ↑............................................. pitch Material Type 5b effluvium ........→ attack texture ........→ gesture effluvium ↑............................................. pitch

Figure 7

The basically static nature of materials 1, 2 and 5a are clearly shown here, as is the

changing nature of the remaining materials, 4 and 5b, which both exhibit changes along

two axes, (moving together in the same direction along the effluvium/attack continua and

in opposite directions between texture-gesture) and are fixed at opposing ends of the third,

the effluvium/pitch continuum. Along this axis, there are examples of each possible

spectral typology, from note proper, through harmonic and inharmonic spectra, node and

noise. The description of material type 4 shown here is somewhat simplified, particularly

17

in its description of changes along the gesture-texture axis and, given its structural

importance, requires a more detailed explanation.

Within this material type it is possible to identify two kinds of instrumental role. At

the opening of Verblendungen, all the pitched orchestral instruments are given the same

notational instruction ( h. ffff / fff ). Due to differences between instruments however, this

same notation results in two different types of sound, one created by the percussive

instruments (marimba, piano and harp) marking the attack of the opening gesture and then

decreasing in volume (with their natural decay envelope), the other by the sustaining

instruments (woodwind, brass and strings) which continue the gesture. Apart for two

exceptions (at bar 14, middle c and at bar 25, g below middle c, both played by harp) the

non-sustaining instruments double pitches played by the rest of the orchestra and so can

clearly be seen to be emphasising and supporting the gestural attack, in terms of dynamics

and colour. This role is continued until rehearsal letter K (3'41") where for the first time the

gestural attack is made (orchestrally) only by strings, the percussive instruments having

joined in the general change that this material type undergoes, moving from a gestural to a

textural role. Perceptually, this change occurs gradually, in a continuous, unbroken way.

However the orchestral score reveals how this achieved, with new material being

introduced across the orchestra in overlapping waves, spreading amongst groups of

instruments. The step-wise development of this material can be seen in figure 8, which lists

the first occurrence of new figurations. This material overlaps with previously introduced

material in other parts of the orchestra resulting in a layered complex texture where up to 4

or 5 different materials may be simultaneously present.

There is in fact one other sound, on tape, which occurs during this opening five

minute section of the piece. It is not audible in either of the recordings used of complete

performances, its sound being covered by the orchestral material, only revealing itself

when the electroacoustic material is listened to on its own. This sound has not been

included in the list of materials above, due to the fact that it has minor structural role to

play in this section of the piece, but is mentioned here for the sake of completeness and

also because it has important connections with events which occur later on in the work

18

19

(particularly in the tape solo, which will be examined further on in this study). This sound

occurs twice, quietly, between 3’15”-3’27” and 4’35”-4’55”, both times emerging above

material type 2, having no obvious structural role, with no clear connections to be made

between these two points in the piece. The end of the sound is similarly connected with

material 2, the first time it stops in the same way as it begins, being obscured by material

type 2, the second time it fades away just before a new attack of material 2a sounds. Its

composite texture contains a number of identifiable pitches and it is the most complex sound

so far on tape, clearly associated with the ongoing general shift away from gesture to texture

in the orchestra. As part of this it can be seen as a development from material type 3 with its

internal timbral variation.

ii. Segmentation

Having arrived at a general division of the work into three large-scale sections

through listening, comprising onset, continuant and termination (as shown on the listening

score overview), work on the bottom-up process of segmentation can take place. The first

stage of this is to identify the small-scale sound-objects which will be grouped together to

provide the surface level of segmentation. In attempting this, a number of interesting

features begin to emerge in this largest-scale onset section, particularly concerning the

boundaries between sound objects.

The predominant morphological model present at the opening is an open attack-

decay, presented as an irregular repetitive sequence (indicated clearly by material type 1,

discussed above) which marks the music's obvious division into small-scale sound units for

the first two minutes. A number of these attacks are led up to by smaller pre-attacks

(clearly seen at 17") or dynamic swells (at 13" and 41" for example), both in the orchestra.

These anacruses or upbeats, attached and leading on to the main attack which follows, are

often ambiguous, in the sense that they are not clearly detached or separated from the

previous attack gesture, of which they form, or emerge from, its continuant. A certain

20

degree of overlap occurs between these units as the end of one appears to become the start

of the next, without this change being clearly articulated. Dotted lines are used to identify

this in the segmentation on the graphic score. Perhaps the clearest explanation for this

ambiguity is that at this stage of the work the musical units remain, to varying degrees,

open, often with weak or non-existent termination phases, the first of these which is clearly

identifiable does not occur until the fourth sound-unit identified (17"-26"). This contrasts

with the onset part of these basic level sound units (or continuant where there is an upbeat)

which are clearly and unambiguously defined by the irregular attack sequence already

discussed.

As this section proceeds, the attack sequence becomes more widely spaced and, as

a result of this, the musical objects become generally longer, as the gesturally-propelled

material of the opening gradually gives way to more textural material (within the

orchestra). This is coupled with a move away from the attack-decay as the basic

morphological model (which is led away from), to its reversed form (which is led up to).

Further structural implications of this will be shown below.

After completing this small-scale segmentation, the process is then repeated to

group together the units identified at this first stage into a larger-scale level, the results of

which are themselves grouped, and so on, until the largest-scale form of the work is

reached and the connection between small and large-scale form revealed. The results of

this process are indicated on the accompanying graphic score, the layers being numbered

from 1, the smallest scale, to 6 the largest (not shown). It is at this stage that the specific

boundary between the onset and continuant portions of the whole work can be identified (4'

11") and a number of important features regarding the segmentation of this section of the

work seen.

The first of these concerns the differences between the onset, continuant and

termination sections (o, c, t) which the whole of this first section can be divided into and

which is shown as the 5th level of segmentation on the graphic score. The clearest

difference is seen at the start of each of these sections and chiefly concerns material type 2,

identified previously. At the very opening of Verblendungen, this material, on tape, has a

clear attack-decay morphology which persists throughout the whole level 5 onset. The start

of both the following continuant (at 2' 06") and termination phases (at 3' 04") at this level

21

are marked by the reversed form of this morphological model. There is a clear connection

between this change and the process identified above, whereby the strongly attack

dominated opening gradually gives way to more textural material. The change in the

morphology of this material (type 2) makes clear the gradual weakening of the structural

importance of the opening attacks, which occurs through this first part of the piece and the

increasing importance of the upbeat. The progress of this process is clearly seen at the start

of the termination phase, where the strongly directional upbeat (c. 3' 04" - 3' 09") is

followed by a comparatively weak, delayed and almost non-existent, attack, the upbeat

providing the gestural push forward, not the attack itself.

The number of levels of segmentation within this first part of the piece is also

worthy of comment. At the very opening, five levels of segmentation are identified (level

six being the largest-scale segmentation of the whole work). These five hierarchical layers

are consistently present through this onset portion. The incomplete nature of many of the

sound objects within this structural layer, which are without clear termination phases,

previously identified on level one of the segmentation of this section, continues up through

the next two levels of segmentation (levels 2 and 3). Figure 9 reveals further patternings

within these five layers.

Level 1. |oc|oc |oc|oct|oc |oc|oc |oct|oc|oc |oc|oc|oc |oc|oct

| | | | | | 2. |o c |o c t |o c |o c t |o c t |o c

| | | 3. |o c |o c |o c

| 4. |o c t

Segmentation overview (level 5 onset section)

Figure 9

The fourth level of segmentation, which has an identifiable onset, continuant and

termination, is formed of six units from level 3, which are grouped into three pairs (onset

22

and continuant). Each of these level 3 units itself groups together five level 2 units, the first

two of these being identical (oc + oct), the third being a reverse of this pattern (oct + oc).

The move away from the exact repetition of level 3, with its three onset-continuant

groups, towards more general patterning seen at level 2 is continued down to the smallest-

scale of level one, where more complex organisation taking place. Most of the groupings

which take place on this level result in onset-continuant pairs, with only three (of fifteen)

units having a termination phase. These tripartite groups are evenly distributed within the

boundaries of the higher level units identified, one occurring within the continuant phase of

each level 3 group.

Figure 10 shows an overview of the remaining level 5 phases, the continuant and

termination, of this first section of the piece. The five structural layers present throughout

the level 5 onset do not all continue through these subsequent sections. Instead each loses a

structural layer, with the continuant having four and the termination three. This structural

simplification is coupled with the processes of lengthening identifiable musical objects and

increase in textural importance identified previously. Despite the variability in the number

of their structural layers, these two sections are consistent, in those layers which are

present, with much of the segmentational structure of the previous level 5 onset. The

smallest level groups 'oc' and 'oct' units as before, now with more complete tripartite

groups and level 2 continues its alternation of 'oc' and 'oct' units. Level 3 is similarly

consistent where it is present, in the level 5 continuant section, being made up of only

onset and continuant phases.

Level 1. |oc|oct|oc |oct|oc |oc|oc|oct|

| | | | 2. |o c t |o c |o c t |

| | | 3. |o c | |

| 4. | | 5. c t |

Segmentation overview (level 5 continuant and termination sections). Figure 10

23

One final point of note regarding the segmentation of this section is the coincidence

of three complete 'oct' groupings at the end of this level 6 onset section (in levels 1,2 and

5). This is worthy of note given the presence of many 'oc' groups throughout the previous

material and reinforces the idea of this phase (the onset) of the work ending.

iii. Rhythm and Time

The whole of the orchestral score for Verblendungen (with two brief exceptions,

one near the start, the other at the very end), is written at a constant q =60 (=1") tempo. The

attack sequence which dominates the opening sections of the piece is governed by this

pulse, always occurring upon it, as do a large number of the upbeats associated with this

sequence. Despite this, there is little or no real sense of a regular pulse during these

sections, due to the apparently irregular patterning of the attack sequence itself (which

range between 3 and 18 seconds apart), and also because this main pulse is never

consistently sub-divided, once again giving a sense of irregularity. The changing bar

lengths indicated within the orchestral score, similarly, do not reveal any obvious

organisation.

At the very opening of the piece, during the initial 3 seconds, the first gesture

consists of two attacks which have a 'short-long' (x w ) rhythmic profile (the second attack

is provided by the tape only). This attack pattern is echoed at a larger structural level as

identified as the first grouping in the level 2 segmentation, now lasting 12 seconds in total

(3"+9") It is this gesture, and in particular the grouping together of the two attacks and the

time between them, which forms the audible rhythmic structure of the opening minutes of

the piece. The three second distance between the attacks within this gesture is near to the

limits of rhythmic perception (the slowest tempi commonly encountered in contemporary

music not going below e/q = 40, which gives a beat of 1.5 seconds, double this 3 second

unit). However, with no internal detail or subdivision between these attacks (marked by

24

Three Second Time Unit at Opening of Verblendungen.

Figure 11

25

bass drum) we are given nothing else to give us a sense of rhythm or time passing.

Further, this three second 'pulse' is repeated several times within the first 27" of the piece7

(see figure 11) and establishes itself as the basic time unit at the opening.

Not all the attacks which are present throughout the opening minutes of the piece

are close enough to each other to allow easy grouping together into pairs, as occurs at the

start. The patterning of the groupings which these attacks fall into is revealed by the level 2

segmentation, which identifies the following structure when the time distance between

attacks is plotted:

3" t 11"

4" i 9"

16" m 5"

18" e 10"

17" ↓ 6"

13" ...

Time distance between attacks at start (up to 1'52").

Figure 12

The left-most column shows those attacks which can be grouped together in pairs and

which form the onset or continuants of this structural level. The step-wise increase in

length shown by these time values may account in part for the general sense of slowing

down which is perceptible in the opening minutes of the piece, at least from a gestural

viewpoint. This process is reinforced by the increasing time distance and the (also step-

wise) increase in the number of sections between the grouped pairs of attacks themselves.

The process of gestural slowing down identified here continues after the point

identified at the end of figure 9, as can be seen in the remaining time distances between

7 In one of the recordings used for this study (Saraste, 1989), there is a clear emphasis given by the upper brass, six seconds from the start, which would mark the second 3" unit. This is not indicated in the orchestral

26

attacks and particularly the continuation of the incremental sequence (3", 4", 5", 6")

previously identified: 18" 11" 18" 7" 8" 9" 24"...

By the start of this sequence, however, the attack gestures have become less

dominant and weakened in force, especially after the bass drum drops out after 1' 52". The

remaining attacks are chiefly made up material type 2 (on tape), and no longer articulate

the level 2 segmentation.

The obvious shift away from gestural to textural music which occurs through the

first five minutes of the work can be seen to be initiated right at the start of the piece as the

three-second unit of time which is established at the very opening is incrementally

increased. The attacks which dominate the opening slow down and diminish in volume and

force, giving way to more streamed material (in the orchestra) which is without obvious

vertical demarcations. At the same time as this is occurring, the sense of small-scale

rhythm provided by the attack sequence at the opening and which is gradually given up as

identified, is replaced to some degree, by material type 5b; this gradually becomes more

rhythmically profiled, developing into a series of noise pulses after 1' 33", which can

clearly be seen on the sonogram.

iv. Pitch: Harmony and Melody

The start of Verblendungen includes two material types which have identifiable

pitch content. The first, on tape (material type 2), a rich sound based upon the low E1 and

the other in the orchestra (material type 4), the dense chord previously identified (fig.5).

Initially these sounds appear to be very different, the tape sound being a single sound with

a single pitch, whilst the orchestral chord is obviously made up by many instruments,

playing different pitches. However, the sonogram of the start of the piece shows

similarities between the two, where both appear as a collection of horizontal bands,

score however, and is not as clearly audible in the other recording (Salonen 1984).

27

revealing both sounds to be groupings of several pitches, those of the tape sounds having

regular spacing and belonging to the harmonic series, the orchestra's being irregular

(inharmonic) as previously identified and now shown in figure 13.

Both of these sounds exist ambiguously on the boundary between single, fused

sounds and composite, chordal sounds, the ear being able to hear both as single and

composite sounds depending on context. The tape sound is spectrally very rich, having

upper harmonics which are relatively loud and are clearly audible, if not easily separable

from their low E fundamental. The orchestral chord, despite its obvious composite nature

(at least on paper) is played very loudly and has too many pitches within it, too closely

spaced for the ear to be able to identify all of them easily, at least at the start of the work

where they fuse together.

It is interesting to note the relationship between these two ‘ chords’, particularly the

way that the orchestral chord avoids the pitches of the harmonic series except at the very

top and bottom of the chord where notes are doubled (the low E at the bottom and the D

and F#/Gb at the top). These connections further help to fuse the two sounds together,

especially the attention given by the ear to highest (melodic) and lowest (bass) pitches in a

musical texture.

Opening Orchestral Chord (i) and Harmonic Series on Low E (ii).

Figure 13

The low E identified above, which is continuously present through the first four

minutes of the piece and is structurally important throughout the whole work, can be seen

both as creating a pedal-note or bass for the orchestral harmony (if a note-based view is

used) but also as creating the fundamental frequency of a complex and constantly changing

28

sound, the upper (inharmonic) partials of which are provided by the orchestral instruments

and the harmonics of material type 2 (if viewed spectrally).

If the pitches of the opening orchestral chord are reordered, ignoring their octave

positions, it will be seen that the chord is made up of most of the chromatic gamut, with

only two pitches absent (fig. 14). Interestingly the two omitted pitches form the major and

minor thirds above the ever-present low E pedal and their omission avoids creating any

obvious tonal references in the orchestral sound at the start of the work. If this chord is

looked at tonally it is possible to identify a number of factors which further help to reduce

the sense of an E based tonality which might be suggested by this pedal note. The most

obvious and strongest of these is found at the top of the orchestral chord where the notes

Bb, D and F, which clearly outline a Bb major triad. This suggests a tonality very distant

from E, although this is itself blurred somewhat with the addition of pitches a semitone

above the F and a semitone below the Bb. The other main tonal suggestion which can be

found in this chord aside from the intervals of thirds and sixths which give only weak tonal

suggestions (B+D# suggesting B, C/C#+A suggesting A) is found in the notes A, D, F and

F# which outline a second inversion D major/minor chord. Although this is entwined

within the Bb chord identified above, the sense of a chord upon D is strengthened by the

fact that the root note of the chord is placed in the same register as the seventh harmonic

and as such is doubled by the tape sound. The aural prominence given to the D by this

allows us to connect it back harmonically to the pedal note, over which it creates a seventh,

further weakening a stable sense of E by creating a distant sense of a dominant seventh and

its need for resolution.

The lack of chromatic character created by the near complete chromatic saturation

of the opening chord suggests that the spacing of the chord and the resulting intervals

between pitches are more important than individual pitches, supporting a more ‘ spectral’

view of the orchestral harmony. This view is supported by the tonal implications noted

above which are the result of the voicing of this chord.

29

Pitch Content of Opening Orchestral Chord (and omitted pitches)

Figure 14

An overview of the underlying orchestral pitch structure of the start of the work is

given in figure 15a. This follows the listing given by the composer (Saariaho 1987),

(including the repeated chord given for numbers 28 and 29) and extends it after chord

number 40 to cover the whole of the first five minutes. Saariaho further details a process of

pitch change whereby chords are gradually and incrementally saturated by a single

interval from the bottom up:

I constructed a fundamental chord containing all the intervals. From this chord the harmony radiates in different directions in such a way that each time a different interval from the fundamental chord ends up occupying the totality of the vertical structure. (Saariaho 1987 p,122)

When a chord finally consists of a single interval, stacked-up, then it restarts the

process, reforming a chord with a different interval. In an attempt to reveal this process,

figure 15b reviews the opening chordal material given in figure 15a as intervals between

chord notes. Even within the chords listed by Saariaho herself, it is not easy to identify the

compositional process she discusses, except in a rather vestigial stage. The shaded figures

identify common intervals (and their inversions) and show four blocks which appear to

focus upon specific intervals. These move from the semitone (block 1) in the first instance,

stepwise to the major third in the fourth block (block 4) and mirror the process of stepwise

interval growth already noted in connection to the development of orchestral texture earlier

(fig. 8, bar 39 onwards). Nowhere in this harmonic overview does there appear to be a

chord made up of a single interval type, chord number 30 coming the closest, with a single

semitone amongst the remaining tones and minor sevenths. This clearly illustrates the

difference, referred to in part one of this study, between a compositional process (as

detailed by the composer) and its actual final results.

30

31

32

33

What can be identified from this material are more general processes and changes.

The opening orchestral chord is revoiced very gradually, with only one or two pitches

changing at a time (chords 19 and 49 being the largest exceptions from this) and most of

the pitch changes taking place towards the top of the chord. These changes gradually push

the upper pitches of the chord higher, the top-most pitch climbing upward in an almost

linear ascent, as shown in the graphic score. Figure 15c shows clearly the ascending nature

of the upper parts of the chord but also reveals a less obvious descent, albeit much slower

and less wide-ranging, in the lower notes of the chord above the ever-present low E.

Graphical Pitch Overview (0’00”-5’00”). Figure 15c

34

The gradual changes which occur to this harmonic material do not happen at

regular time intervals throughout the opening sections of the piece, as can be seen on the

graphic score where their placement is indicated. Instead, harmonic changes occur

irregularly but with a general tendency towards a higher rate of change as the piece

progresses, the first minute having twelve chord changes, the fifth twenty seven.

Throughout this, however, there are periods of harmonic stasis, where the harmony

remains unchanged, and the time length of these actually increases as the piece progresses

(these are indicated on fig.15a by the boxed chord numbers):

Chord number Time Length in Seconds 2 11” 7 14” 17 10” 18 13” 32 19” 40 18” 49 20” 59 19”

In contrast to this, in the areas of harmonic change around these static blocks there are

groups of rapid harmonic change, often with changes every second or so. These groups

also increase in length resulting in a process whereby the reasonably regular rate of change

at the start becomes more characterised by extremes of stasis and rapid harmonic change.

One effect of this very gradual, if irregular process of pitch change is to present the

orchestral harmony much more as a slowly evolving sound or timbre, an idea much closer

to an electroacoustic sound view, rather than anything to do with the contrasts and

recognisable units of traditional functional harmony of a note-based view.

The gradual ascent identified above is the most obvious audible pitch process

which occurs throughout this first section of the piece and is closely connected to the

gestural structure. This is particularly true in the opening minute where each level 2 unit of

segmentation is given a new pitch towards its start (f#, g, a), and later after 1’29” where

each of the three parts of this segmentation unit are marked by a new pitch (b, c#, d#). The

perhaps surprising importance of this simple pitch ascent is partly due to the absence of

any other material which might be considered ‘melodic’ in the opening minute or so of the

35

piece and its clear connection with the gestural structure, both of which draw the ear

towards it. Even later on, after the examples given above, new pitches are always

introduced clearly, marking some structural point, even if it is only small-scale. Indeed this

climbing line is one of the main factors in the creation of tension and sense of progress

within the repetitive attack sequence of the opening and the clearest aural indication of

larger-scale organisation available in the opening minutes of Verblendungen.

The slow gradual melodic climb that occurs over these first four minutes of the

piece is ended or at least given some sense of arrival at 4’ 11” (rehearsal letter L) . This is

marked by three upward pitch sweeps through the orchestra, almost a high-speed recap of

the piece so far, but this time the sweeps are across the entire pitch-space used up to this

point, from the low bass E up to the treble D (rehearsal letter M). These pitch sweeps can

be seen as a continuation of the process of pitch saturation begun in the composition of the

opening chord and its augmentation of the harmonic series covering as they do scalically

(with few gaps) the currently defined pitch space. These signal the first clear distinctions

between harmony and melody identifiable in the piece (as shown in fig.15a) as well as

marking the end of the first large scale section of the work in the shift from the opening

onset to the continuant. They also signal new, more radical types of pitch change with

strings having, en masse, glissandos between chords, in bars 89-92 and 93-96, (although an

early ‘pre-echo’ of this can perhaps be seen in bars 13 and 28-30 in upper violins) which

can clearly be connected to the scalic pitch-sweeps identified above, and the beginnings of

a weakening of the power and importance of the low E pedal. By the end of the second

pitch sweep (rehearsal letter N) the pitch space has become modified with clear space now

existing between the low E and the evolving cluster of pitches high in the treble. This is a

natural result of the continuation of the process of gradual upward expansion of the pitch-

space previously identified and this point marks a change from a rooted to a canopied

pitch-space. It also points forward to the eventual extinguishing of the pedal E and the

accompanying shift in structural importance from low to high frequency. This is only

realised fully at the very end of the piece.

36

v. Spatial Movement and Panning.

Spatial movement and placement of sound do not have a large role to play in

Verblendungen. Saariaho does not give special instructions for the layout of the orchestra

in the score, nor does she make use of antiphonal or other spatial orchestral effects. The

electroacoustic element is a stereo tape and as might be expected it does contain some

spatial aspect in some (but not all) of its material. Despite the fact that this is not especially

clear in the recordings of the piece used for this study, which do not give a particularly

distinct spatial image of the tape material, this spatial aspect does have an important, if not

central role to play, in the overall effect of the work. This should not be seen as a criticism

of a work which is much concerned with images of monumentality, stasis and slow, almost

imperceptible, change.

Within this first section of the piece, material types 2 and 5b on tape, both have

clear spatial behaviour which reflects their basic sound qualities. Material 2, the low E

attack-decay adopts different spatial positions (particularly the extreme left and right of the

stereo field) when it is repeated. However it does not move or shift its position once the

sound has started, giving it some spatial variety but still reflecting large, differently placed

but rooted, immobile sounds. Its spatial position is sometimes difficult to identify, at its

attack as this is often obscured by material 5b (which is always in an unchanging central

position) and given that aurally positioning lower frequency sounds is generally more

difficult. The patternings of this sound’s spatial position are shown in figure 16 and reveal

a consistent alternation between left and right positions, until 2’10”, where the pattern is

interrupted with two sounds on the left. This break coincides with the start of the level 5

continuant phase.

Material type 5b is much more complex in its spatial identity, reflecting its

changing timbre and dynamics. Its spatial movement is much more important to its overall

identity than was the case with the previous material. In attempting to classify the nature of

this sound’s movement, which initially appear to be a highly mobile single sound, one

becomes aware of two associated, but spatially separate, streams of sound, on the left and

right. Small surging changes within this noise-based sound, in both timbre and dynamics,

focus attention on left or right, and the connections between these two

37

1

constantly varying streams of sound give the illusion of very rapid, unpredictable

movement from left to right and vice versa. As this material develops, the timbral and

dynamic surges gradually become more attack-like and the separateness of the two

channels of sound becomes more evident. Instead of the rapid switches between left and

right and the sense of motion between these extremes which we find at the opening, there

are now individual attack-points within the noise-stream (after 1’ 40”). It is here that the

similarities between this sound and material type 5a are most evident, the individual sound

impulses in both sounds being almost identical. After this point, these individual attacks

become more sparse and also soften their attack points, gradually becoming quieter and

moving back towards the earlier sense of a continuous sound stream. Shortly after this

point is reached, the sound fades away completely (by 3’35”). During this time, the spatial

movement moves between three identifiable phases: the initial, clear sense of rapid motion

between spatial extremes which is felt at the opening, to individual attack points, still on

left or right but with no sense of motion between them, returning once again to a sense of

movement, albeit more gentle as the attack points weaken. The unpredictable but

reciprocal spatial oscillations of this sound type reflect its rapidly changing timbral and

dynamic nature and add to its sense of energetic, volatile changeability.

2

2. Tape Solo

The second half of Verblendungen is dominated by a forty-nine second section for

tape only, which begins at 7’36”. A quick glance at the overall volume levels of the work

gives some indication of the importance of this section of the piece (figure 17), with this

part of the work returning close to the dynamic levels of the opening.

Overall Dynamic Level (Orchestra and Tape Combined).

Figure 17

The strong attack at the start of the solo and the long crescendo leading up to this

clearly indicates the start of the termination phase of the whole work, as previously

identified. Clear reference is also made back to the opening’s explosive attack as well as to

the start of the level 5 continuation and termination phases within the largest-scale onset,

whose overall gestural shape (reversed attack-decay) it clearly echoes. Although marking a

return to the clear articulation of large-scale structure through gesture found at the start of

the piece, this is really the last major event of the piece and the gestural energy and

impetus of this attack carries the work right through to its end, despite occurring at little

over the half-way point of the complete piece8. At either side of this solo, it is interesting to

note how the orchestra ends and restarts its playing. The last instrumental material, just

before the start of this solo (rehearsal figure X in the orchestral score onwards), where the

upper strings fade out with high glissandi leaving just violin 1 paused on a G# harmonic,

looks forward to the extreme, high frequency ascent at the end of the piece. Underneath

this double bass 2 also pauses on the low pedal E, between them outlining the upper and

lower pitch boundaries of the tape solo (and in fact the whole of the piece). The material

8 The orchestral score marks the end of the piece at 13’ 23” although both recordings of the work used stop short of this point, the first stopping at 13’ 06” (Saraste 1988), the second (Salonen 1984) continuing until 13’ 20” which corresponds to the duration of the copy of the tape part obtained from the publishers. Given the flexible nature of the timing of the ending of the piece, the very long fade out and the ritenuto within the orchestra, these timing differences are not unexpected.

3

with which the orchestra resumes after the solo (rehearsal figure Y) looks back to the

chromatic sweeps which occur at the start of the (level 6) continuant phase (rehearsal

figure L).

The sonogram of the actual solo itself shows the tape sound to be made up of a

number of irregularly pulsing pitch-bands. A closer view reveals a static background

harmony or chord which remains unchanged, except for dynamic changes in individual

pitch-bands, during the duration of this solo and for some time afterwards (fig. 18). When

transcribed, the pitches of these horizontal bands can clearly be divided into two separate

parts (fig.19).

Tape Solo Sonogram showing pitch banding Figure 18.

Tape Solo Pitch Content. Figure 19.

The lower group of pitches belong to the harmonic series (numbered 1-16 on fig.19

with approximate pitch notation) once again based upon the low E, although here the

4

fundamental itself is present only at a very low volume (as revealed by the sonogram).

Above this harmonic series, the pitches adopt the tuning of the equal-tempered scale

(incidentally the changeover occurring on an E), rising five and a half octaves above the

pedal E, becoming more chromatically complete as they ascend. This is another instance of

the joining of harmonic and non-harmonic pitch materials seen earlier (see figure 13), this

time both on tape.

Despite the apparent division of these two groups, the pitch-bands all appear to

behave in similar ways, with each having gradually changing dynamic profiles and at the

start of this solo the pitch bands are fused together to create the sense of a single, complex

sound (as has previously occurred at the very beginning of the piece in material type 4).

One of the reasons for this fusing is the fact that above the 16th harmonic (which marks the

upper limit of the lower pitch group) subsequent harmonics are so close together that it is

possible to identify amongst them pitches which conform to (or are very near to) the equal

tempered scale. The upper pitch group can therefore be seen as a ‘ filtered’ continuation of

the lower group, where all harmonics are present.

After the attack point at the start of the solo it becomes possible to identify two

different type of material which generally correspond to the two pitch-band groups

identified above. The first, corresponding to the lower group, is a single pitched sound on

the low E1 (marking a return of the earlier pedal note), having obvious connections to

material type 2 from the very opening of the piece, but is much longer and more

dynamically and spatially active. Above this, the upper group creates a series of

overlapping, partially fused sounds. The varying volume of the individual pitch bands

results in the emergence of recognisable pitches and fragments of melody from within the

overall sound. Once again this shows the electroacoustic medium exhibiting note-based

characteristics, particularly at a time when the orchestra is silent. The static nature of the

background harmony also clearly looks back to the lengthening periods of harmonic stasis

previously identified in the orchestral material of the works onset section, of which it can

be seen as a large-scale extension.

It is possible to transcribe the melodic material within emerges within this solo

(although this does become more difficult as it proceeds) and show that it is rhythmically

organised, continuing the orchestral score’s q=60 pulse. This is shown in Figure 20, which

5

is notated in 3

4 to attempt to reveal if the three second meta-pulse identified at the opening

is still present. This is somewhat inconclusive although the repeated three note descending

cell identified (bracketed on the diagram), do all begin in the first two thirds of the bar. The

lack of obvious distinction between harmony and melody which make portions of this solo

difficult to transcribe melodically indicate a shift away from the opening’s structural

clarity. The obvious gestural structure of the start, with its clearly identified six

segmentational layers is not present within this solo, which lacks any obvious large-scale

structural articulation. The melodic material transcribed gives some indication of

hierarchical structure, with its repeated cell which seems to undergo a twice repeated

process of rhythmic augmentation (in the first and last trios of cells) but this does suggest a

clearer sonic image than is the case in reality, as often these is no clear distinction between

melodic and harmonic pitches (and pitches fused together timbrally) particularly towards

the end of this solo. It is possible to see this as a continuation of the process of structural

change begun in the reduction of segmentational layers through the first five minutes of the

piece.

The repeated cell identified above gives a further example of how harmonic and

non-harmonic materials are joined, bridging as it does the two pitch groups previously

identified (the a and g from the upper, the d#/eb from the lower pitch-band group). This

figure, with its varied rhythm, is insistent in its descending profile and marks a departure

from the almost constantly ascending melodic material which has been present since the

start of the work, giving a clear feeling of entering the closing phase of the piece (however

extended this may be). The only real sense of descending pitch shape before this point is

found in the glissandoing string material found after bar 139 in lower strings, although this

is set against ascending scale patterns in woodwind. This first occurs in a less articulated

form in bars 93-96, although in both the cases these glissandi are not perceived as melodic

material. The first instance of this material (shown as chords 75 and 76 in figure 15a) does

reveal a clear connection to the solo under examination here, as it contains within it the

three pitches of the repeated melody as well as the only other clearly audible pitch in the

treble register (the lower f#). The a and g, the only treble

6

1

notes present in chord 75 are also present in chord 76 which adds the d#, (this also occurs

briefly in the previous chord, number 74).

This solo section marks the point at which the tape changes from its earlier

supportive and reinforcing role to take up a more dominant foreground role, which it

maintains until the end of the piece. In many ways it is possible to see the work after this

point as a repeat of what has come before, re-orchestrated and rethought, this time with the

orchestra and tapes roles reversed.

Mention should be made here of the importance of aural analysis in approaching

this section of the piece. As there is no instrumental contribution to this part of the piece

analysis obviously has to rely upon the aural, supported by the sonogram. As has been

shown, the sonogram does reveal some very important aspects of the sections of the piece,

particularly in revealing its unchanging harmonic background and how this is constituted.

However in two important aspects, both related to pitch identification, the sonogram is less

helpful than might be imagined, and the primacy of the aural experience is reinforced. The

first of these concerns the low pedal E which is clearly and loudly present through the

whole of this solo. According to the volume level shown on the sonogram, this pitch (41.2

Hz) should be barely audible. As previously noted however, the lower pitches on tape

constitute the lower harmonics of this fundamental pitch and despite its actual low volume,

the ear (or in fact the brain) ‘hears’ or constructs, a loud fundamental pitch from the

energies of the related harmonics. Secondly, the melodic material previously identified

within this acousmatic solo is not easily identified within the sonogram. This is in part due

to the lack of large differences in dynamic levels between the pitch bands, the absence of

strong attack points to mark the start of the identified pitches and the presence of varied

octave‘ doublings’ of the identified pitches (which act like second harmonics, colouring

the sound). The melodic material identified emerges out of the harmonic background and

having once heard the descending a,g,d# at the opening of the solo the ear is predisposed to

recognise this phrase and draw it out from the background harmony. Both of these

examples show the ‘creative’, complex role listening takes, the need to interpret the images

the sonogram produces and to trust what it is that we hear.

2

3. The End

The final minutes of Verblendungen once again return to a solo for tape, the

orchestral high strings fading out much as they did before the start of the earlier solo.

Before this point, despite a great deal of change which has occurred since the start of the

piece, it is possible to observe a return to many of the ideas which can be found at the

work’s opening, albeit it in modified form.

The sparse attack-decay sequence in the orchestral ‘percussion’ (guiro, piano,

vibraphone, harp, and crotales) which takes place during the closing stages of the work in

many ways clearly looks back to the very start of Verblendungen. For instance, the small

rhythmic cells for guiro, which appear after bar 162, obviously take over from material

type 5a at the opening, with its short rhythmic noise impulses, a swapping of

electroacoustic and orchestral roles. As with the earlier material, the giuro’s short phrases

are associated with attack-decay gestures, as before these are marked by the percussion

instruments. The difference here, at the end of the piece is that there is no lead up to the

attack itself, the guiro’s short phrases coincide and lead away from the gestural attack point

(in vibraphone, piano and harp). The weakness of the attacks themselves and their lack of

gestural energy gives some sense of the nearness of the work’s completion. Figure 21

shows this guiro material and its connected chordal attacks. The pitch process here is

reminiscent of the work’s opening sections albeit much simpler, with the basically static

chord accumulating increasingly higher pitches as well as recalling the harmonically static

areas identified within the earlier part of the piece. The chord which is built up by the fifth

attack point (bar 173) is a repeat of the upper part of the chord which first appears at bar

92. More importantly it is a vertical presentation of the pitches contained within the tape

solo’s melodic material, which continue to be present throughout this orchestral material,

providing an obvious connection between the tape and orchestra.

The time between these attack points is also of interest as they recall the underlying

three second ‘pulse’ identified towards the start of the piece (with a one second

discrepancy between the sixth and seventh attack timings) giving further credence to the

idea that the piece is at times working with this three second unit as some kind of meta-

pulse:

3

12” 3” 6” 12” 18” 40” 23” 12” 6”

no of 3” units: x4 x1 x2 x4 x6 x13 x8 x4 x2

(+1”)⇔(-1”)

A further example of the swapping of previous roles can be seen in the orchestra’s

move away from pitched towards noise-based sounds. This is most noticeable after bar 178

where woodwind and brass gradually switch to unpitched but rhythmically profiled air

sounds, a clear echo of the opening’s material type 5b. The strings also move away from

the strong harmonic and melodic role they had at the work’s opening and adopt tremolo sul

pont and sul pont ext bowing methods, both of which emphasise the noise content of their

sound, finally moving to heavy (premuto) bowing (bar 185 onwards). As well as often

having continuous glissandi, at the very end of their material (bar 199) they even play in

quarter tones, further weakening the sense of the equal-tempered scale, which was so

important at the work’s opening. The orchestra’s role in the closing part of the piece in fact

belongs much more to an electroacoustic rather than note-based world, with the only

clearly linear, melodic material to be found in the iterative ascents on tape, which occur

several times towards the very end of the work.

Another change which has occurred to the instrumental writing after the tape solo is

its instrumentally stratified nature. Unlike the opening where all instruments are treated

equally and where material is shared between all instrumental families, this part of the

work is characterised by a layered orchestration where the strings, woodwind and brass

(which act as a single group), and ‘percussion’ sections have different musical materials.

The connections between these instrumental groupings is much weaker than previously

and although some connections can be identified there are no unifying events or gestures

which affect all the orchestral layers simultaneously. Connections can be seen between the

percussion attacks and the woodwind and brass materials where the air-sounds of the wind

instruments group around and after the attack points. This becomes particularly clear at

figures BB and CC. However this pattern is broken by the attack at figure FF where the

wind instruments continue as if unaffected, although the crotales entry at HH does seem to

signal their stopping a few seconds later. Similarly the percussion attack at DD does seem

4

to mark the changeover of material in the strings, although not one which is immediately

audible, as one block of material (tremolando glissandi) gives way to another (double

stopped glissandi), the strings still utilising the overlapping waves of material previously

identified. However in the whole of this closing section of the piece the strings have only

five different types of material and the overlaps between the sections is much greater than

was previously the case at the start of the work. This helps to contribute to the sense of

slowness and lack of forward momentum through this closing part of the work, which

when coupled with the lack of obvious sectional divisions and gestural weakness of the

percussion attacks helps create a somewhat timeless quality, with the end of the piece

‘planing’ off into the distance, with no real sense of forward momentum or definite

temporal point of conclusion. However, the termination phase of the work has been so

clearly signalled through the audible structure, particularly in changes of gestural shape,

that a sense of closure is arrived at in a more general sense and a specific end point not

necessary. The structural clarity of the piece on a large-scale formal level is perhaps one of

its greatest strengths, successfully teaching us how to listen to it as it progresses, despite its

often gradual, slowly changing nature.

Many of the instrumental features identified above particularly the changes in

orchestral writing and the connections between material type are only really observable on

paper (in the orchestral score) or through extremely close listening. The closing stages of

the piece are characterised much more by a consistent, tape-dominated sound world in

which the orchestra plays an increasingly supportive role and in which it is difficult to

easily identify sound sources, be they instrumental or electroacoustic. Unlike the opening

of the work where a number of sound materials are easily identified, the end of the work

presents a sound world which is unified and closely fused, giving the impression of a

single complex sound with complex unpredictable behaviour.

If an overview in taken of the piece after the main attack of the tape solo until its

ending using the three descriptive continua previously used, it will be seen that despite the

very gradual nature of the change, that there is a clear move from the gestural, pitched (or

at least chordal) attack at the start of this termination phase towards a texture which is

generally effluvial:

5

effluvium ...← attack texture ........←.... gesture effluvium ........←.... pitch

The move to the left-hand side in all three continua is striking, particularly as the

opening materials of the piece (see figure 7) are almost all focussed on, or move towards

the right (attack, gesture, pitch) and gives an reminder of how different the closing of the

piece is from its opening.

A summary of the major changes which take place between the beginning and end

of the work is given below and gives some sense of the changes which the piece

undergoes:

Start End

Gesturally Articulated → Textural Low, rooted pitch space → High (canopied) pitch space Pitch emphasis in orchestra → Noise emphasis in orchestra Easily identified materials on tape → Complex materials on tape Clear hierarchical structure → No obvious hierarchical structure Sectional → No clear sections Clear pulse → Absence of pulse Harmonically changing → Harmonically static ‘Unison’ orchestration → Sectional orchestration

6

Conclusion

Music which combines instruments or the orchestra with electroacoustic material

has been a possibility which has engaged and interested composers almost since the birth

of electroacoustic music itself. Varèse’s Déserts, with its novel solution of how the two can

be combined, was written between 1950-54, only a few years after Schaeffer’s

development of musique concrète. Yet despite the creation of a sizeable body of mixed

electroacoustic pieces since this time, little theoretical or analytical comment has been

made upon them. The bridges built by composers between the note-based and

electroacoustic worlds have not yet been explored analytically. One reason for this may be

the inadequacy of many traditional analytic tools in approaching this music.

The main problems of analysing mixed electroacoustic music identified in part one

of this study have been addressed through the use of an analytical approach which places

score objects and particularly graphic representations of the work at its centre. Each of the

three score objects used in this study (orchestral, graphic and sonogram) can tell us

something about a mixed electroacoustic work. The orchestral score allows us a detailed

picture of the instrumental role within the work. The graphic score creates an outline of the

whole and forces, through the process of its making, a clear view of how the work is heard.

The sonogram shows us both a general image of the whole, allowing a structural overview,

as well as allowing us to uncover much detail of the internal structures and relationships of

particular sounds. However, it is in their combined usage that these scores provide us with

a much fuller picture of a work’s structure, in the creation of a multi-dimensional

analytical space in which we can explore the piece (figure 22). The centre-point of this

diagram, where as much information about the work as possible (from the three specific

viewpoints) is gathered, aims to reflect some of the complexity of our experience of a

musical work and to bring this to the process of analysis.

7

‘Analytical Space’ created between the three scores. Figure 22

The different perspectives that each of these scores affords is not only important for

the information each directly reveals about the work, giving us a more rounded view, but

also for the fact that it forces the appraisal and re-appraisal of materials and ideas about the

piece, as information from the different viewpoints is compared and combined. In addition

to this and as a recognition of the fact that mixed electroacoustic music crosses over and

combines note-based and electroacoustic worlds, is the importance of applying an

electroacoustically-framed viewpoint to note-based (orchestral) material, and vice versa.

Perhaps the clearest example of this is seen in the central tape solo of Verblendungen

where the adoption of a note-based view of this electroacoustic material shows us much

important information. The application of the scientific/ sonographic perspective further

reveals much about the underlying (harmonic) structure of this section.

In order that listening can be given its rightful, important place in the analytical

process, the difficulties in describing what it is that we hear when we listen to mixed

electroacoustic music have been addressed in two ways. Firstly, the use of graphic

representation in the creation of graphic scores allows a non-linguistic, symbolic

presentation of what is heard. The adoption of the standardised terms that

spectromorphology gives us, secondly, assists by providing a structured framework for

textual description. The use of the three continua which Smalley proposes (which refer to

Graphic Score

Orchestral Score

Sonogram

8

attack, pitch and gesture/texture) in particular assists the clear identification, placement and

comparison of sound materials, and its tripartite model of structure (onset, continuant,

termination) permits the bringing together of large and small-scale views of the work,

through segmentation.

It is to be hoped that the partial analysis undertaken here in this case study will lead

to more complete analysis and evaluation of mixed electroacoustic music in the future.

This is not simply because this music deserves more critical attention than it currently gets,

but also because there are likely to be more general benefits to analytical approaches which

can deal with musics which present us “with all problems simultaneously” (Delande 1998).

The important role proposed here for the process of making a graphic score could easily be

applied to purely instrumental music for instance, speeding up our familiarisation with the

piece and creating a framework for the presentation of the heard experience of a work. As

new types of music emerge, particularly as a result of new technologies, what are needed

are robust and flexible frameworks for their analysis. If electroacoustic music, and in

particular mixed electroacoustic music, is “music in its most general guise” (Delande

1998) then it is in confronting this music analytically that there is the most to gain, not only

in focusing attention upon a neglected body of pieces but also in the development of

broadly applicable analytical approaches.

9

Sound Recordings Used

1. Kaija Saariaho: Verblendungen, Lichtbogen, Io, Stilleben. Avanti Chamber Orchestra

conducted by Jukka-Pekka Saraste. Kulttuurutalo Concert Hall, Finland, March 1998.

Finlandia FACD 374.

2. A portrait of Kaija Saariaho. Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by Esa-

Pekka Salonen. Helsinki, Finland, April 1984. Bis CD 307.

3. Verblendungen: electroacoustic tape material. Cassette copy obtained from Wilhelm

Hansen Publishers.

10

Bibliography

Bregman, A.S. Auditory Scene Analysis: The Perceptual Organisation of Sound. Cambridge: MIT press, 1990. Cambell, M. & Greated, C. A Musician’s Guide to Acoustics. London: J.M.Dent, 1987 Camilleri, L. & Smalley, D. The Analysis of Electroacoustic Music. Journal of New Music Research, 1998,27/1+2. Camilleri, L. Electro-acoustic Music: Analysis and Listening Processes. Sonus. URL: http://www.memex.it/sonus/camill.htm [3 July 2001],1993 Canetti, E. (trans. Wedgewood, C.V.) Auto da Fé. London: Pan Books, 1978. Cogan, R. New Images of Musical Sound. Mass: Harvard University Press, 1985. Emmerson, S. The Relation of Language to Materials. The Language of Electroacoustic Music, S. Emmerson (ed.). London: Macmillan, 1987. Field, A. Undercurrents: Diffusion Score. URL: http://www-users.york.ac.uk/~aef3/homesite/ [3 July 2001],1999. Fishmann, R. Analysis of Crosstalk, a work by Mike Vaughan. Organised Sound 2(3), 1997, pp 225-51. Gervasoni, P. Kaija Saariaho. Copenhagen: Edition Wilhelm Hansen, 1987. Helmuth, M. Multidimensional Representation of Electroacoustic Music. Journal of New Music Research vol. 25, 1996, pp.77-103 Koechlin, O. La musique électroacoustique. [CD-ROM] Paris: Groupe de Recherches Musicales, Editions Hyptique.net, 2000. Lewis, A. Motion and the Analysis of Electro-Acoustic Music: Denis Smalley's Vortex (I). Electro-Acoustic Music, 3 (3). 1983a . Motion and the Analysis of Electro-Acoustic Music: Denis Smalley's Vortex (II). Electro-Acoustic Music, 3 (4). 1983b

11

Macdonald, A. (15th August 2000). Re: Teaching composition. CEC Discuss [Online]. Available e-mail: cecdiscuss@concordia.ca Nieminen, R. Les cahiers de l’IRCAM 6: Kaija Saariaho. Paris: Editions IRCAM, 1994. Nuorvala, J. (trans. Binham, T.) Kaija Saariaho in Profile I. Finnish Music Information Centre URL: http://www.fimic.fi [3 July 2001], 1991 Roads, C. The Computer Music Tutorial. Massachusetts: M.I.T. Press, 1996. Saariaho, K. Verblendungen. Copenhagen: Ed. Wilhelm Hansen, 1984. Saariaho, K. Programme Notes for Verblendungen. URL: http://www.fimic.fi [3 July 2001] , 1985 Saariaho, K. (trans. Welborn, S.) Timbre and harmony: interpolations of structure. Contemporary Music Review, 1987, pp.93-133. Saariaho, K. Timbre et harmonie Barrière, J-B.(ed) Le Timbre, métaphore pour la composition. Paris:Christian Bourgois, 1991. Schaeffer, P. A la recherche d’une musique concrète. Paris: Editions de Seuil, 1952. Schaeffer, P. Traité des objects musicaux. Paris: Editions de Seuil, 1966. Schreffler, A. Baroque Flutes and Modern: Sound Spectra and Performance Results. The Galpin Society Journal, 36, 1983, pp.99-96. Smalley, D. Spectromorphology and the Structuring Process. S. Emmerson (Ed.) The Language of Electroacoustic Music. London, MacMillan, 1987, pp 61-93. Smalley, D. Spectromorphology: explaining sound-shapes. Organized Sound 2(2) 1997, pp 107-26. Stroppo, M. The Analysis of Electronic Music in Musical Thought at IRCAM. Machover, T (ed) Contemporary Music Review 1/1, 1984, pp 175-180. D.Teruggi Le son et sa représentation graphique, critères physiques et symboliques. URL:http://www.ina.fr/Imagina/99/Conferences/Actes_sons_Imagina99/teruggi/papier_teruggi.en.html [3 July 2001], 1999.

12

Waters, S. & Ungvary, T. The Sonogram: A Tool for Visual Documentation of Musical Structure. In: Proceedings of the I.C.M.C., Glasgow, 10-15 September, 1990. Edited by Arnold, S. & Hair, G., I.C.M.C., 1990, pp.159-162. Williams, T. Trevor Wishart's Vox 5. Journal of Electroacoustic Music, Vol 7, 1993, pp 6-17. Windsor, L. A Perceptual Approach to the Description and Analysis of Acousmatic Music. Unpublished PhD Thesis. London: City University, 1995. Wishart, T. Sound Symbols and Landscape. The Language of Electroacoustic Music, S. Emmerson (ed). London: Macmillan,1987, pp 41-60.