Music! Architecture!

What if we made music out of modules, phrases, in an open-ended fashion, rather than in a 'through-composed', 'written' sense? I made six such modules for xylophone, vibraphone and piano, based on the first few drum-rudiments; the idea being that one unit lasts for one bar, the next lasts for two, the third takes three bars to 'resolve', and so on up until a six-bar pattern. Each unit is multi-purpose, perhaps shifting in role from providing accompaniment to supporting the composition structurally.

Each player had a card with their part, and these instructions:

• When playing: fade in, and fade out sections.

• Inside of these fades, repeat your section for at least a minute.

• While playing, allow timbres to shift in slow curves by moving your sticks around on the playing surface of your instrument, and vary dynamics slowly. The piano may use pedals for this effect.

• After fading out there can be a brief pause before beginning a new section.

• If returning to a section for the second time in a performance you may play

up or down the octave.

(Fig. 1: Early versions of 'score-cards')

Our lives are shaped by architecture; and because the architecture of buildings reflect the aspirations of a society, I was curious to apply such 'constructivist' aspirations to music. I say 'constructivist' because I always feel that if a building is made with people in mind, it succeeds; it succeeds if people maintain a use for it, so if I was to make anything then it would have to be with this in mind. The way I see it, we are currently using modular, flexible methods of construction to create multi-purpose buildings- hence the above.

There's also a link to a (better sounding) ten-minute version recorded at OCM Open, The North Wall, 27/03/2010 here, with a relevant review here

A Musical Education Part II

So I turn up at Robin’s house: late, with a scrap of paper and a pen that doesn’t work. We’re due to play these songs in about half an hour, so we’d ‘better do some preparation'. Fine chance of that now. Sadly there’s a reason to play them: Alex Chilton died this week, and (why does this happen, but it always does) the genius of an artist’s oeuvre is reminded; the songs flag up in our collective memory. As do the hairs on the back of my neck when Robin blasts Radio City out of the stereo. I feel as though I’m coming face to face with a long lost child: I’ve known these songs deep in my heart, but it’s the features and the detail I need to connect with, to re-discover.

I shut my eyes and luxuriate in the sounds: it’s coming back; the colours, the melodies and the harmonic suspensions reactivate cells in my body that kept the echo from years ago. I’m lost, swaying to the thumping pulse of ‘Back of a Car’, letting the fills roll over me before they collide with ever-new chords that explode with fresh summer air. I’m on the sofa again, though; I haven’t written anything down but a triplet, and we’re playing in twenty minutes! It is a bit like being speechless, or being granted an audience with God… how could I write something like this down? It is utter brilliance! A few more token musical scribbles but really I just want to sit here and remember, and there will be time for that yet, but right now the gear has been loaded out, and time is up. We tumble out of the house laughing, stunned at how musically impeccable the members of the band were, each of us privately nervous about our undertaking.

For a first gig with no rehearsal we do ok; the songs themselves rise up as groggy spectres in the room, witnessed by a few bemused locals and foreign students. But they will awake fully again; and it’s their time to be reborn. Summer, with all its promise is just around the corner; Alex Chilton may be dead, but long live Big Star. This music is important- let it in.