Tuesday, October 15, 2024

"Chartered Science" for Violin


Richter and Fluxus Inspired Score for Contrabass Clarinet

 



My score for Solo Contrabass Clarinet, inspired by both Gerhard Richter's "Strips" paintings and Fluxus practices, offers a unique synthesis of visual art, randomness, traditional notation, and intermedia. It challenges the very notion of traditional musical composition, blurring the boundaries between auditory experience and visual interpretation, extending into a realm where technology, pictorial reflection, and radical artistic opposition converge.


Gerhard Richter’s Strips and Pictorial Expansion


Richter’s "Strips" paintings, which emerge from slicing his abstract canvases into horizontal strips and then reassembling them into new configurations, serve as the conceptual bedrock for the score. The "Strips" paintings are not mere reproductions but are fusions of past painterly gestures and digital manipulation. They acknowledge the historical baggage of painting, while actively engaging with technology's influence, a kind of digital mourning for the traditional canvas, transformed through modern tools.


The inspiration from Richter’s work can be seen as a metaphor for the digital fragmentation of experiences: the sonic and visual worlds splintered and yet reorganized into something unfamiliar, but still deeply tied to their origins. Similarly, in this score, the musical ideas are deliberately fragmented—dissected and reassembled—inviting the performer and listener to experience sonic "strips" that are constantly recombining.


The score’s format, consisting of individual cards housed within a Fluxus-like box, mirrors this fractured yet cohesive approach. Each card, akin to Richter’s strips, provides a segment of sound, a piece of the overall structure that the performer can reassemble, much like an abstract collage of sonic moments. These moments defy linearity, embracing the Fluxus ethos of randomness and recombination.


Fluxus and the Intermedia Approach


The Fluxus movement, as described by Dick Higgins in his coining of the term "intermedia," sought to dissolve the boundaries between different forms of art—painting, music, performance, and even life itself. The Fluxus artists were deeply involved in using everyday objects, exploring chance, and breaking down the formal constraints that separated one genre from another. In this composition, the score’s DIY aesthetic, where the performer must physically interact with the cards, directly engages with Fluxus' spirit of anti-commercialism, collaboration, and experimentation.


Found materials and randomness, hallmarks of Fluxus compositions, are central to the performance. Here, the cards act as modular components—no single "right" way exists to perform the piece. The contrabass clarinet, with its broad tonal palette and capacity for extreme textures, lends itself to this improvisational style. The performer, much like an intermedia artist, must become a collaborator with the score—interpreting, organizing, and performing it with creative agency.


Technology, Pictorial Mourning, and Resistance


The idea of pictorial mourning—mourning the loss of the traditional canvas in the digital age—extends into the sonic realm in this score. The score’s use of Richter’s fragmented approach can be seen as an act of defiance against the totalizing claims of technology over art, in this case, over musical notation. Just as Richter’s "Strips" reflect the impact of digital technology on painting, this score reflects how digital culture has transformed musical composition and performance.


Here, the score does not regress into nostalgia for classical musical forms but instead confronts technology by using it to further challenge and subvert traditional musical expectations. Each card in the Fluxus box is an "act of mourning" for the disappearing boundary between sonic experience and technological mediation, yet also a celebration of the possibilities opened up by these very technologies.


The juxtaposition of quasi-traditional Western notation with photorealism also serves to reflect this confrontation. Photorealist notation, in this case, rejects the usual intent of notation to represent a world of feeling or motion and instead mirrors how a camera would capture the world—cold, detached, and exact. This detachment underscores the idea that music, like painting, has evolved under the shadow of technology and is now seen through a lens of distillation, a “camera’s” version of what we once perceived as deeply human and emotional.


The Performer’s Role and the Idea of Agency


The performer becomes more than just an interpreter—they are an active creator, engaging with the score as a dynamic, malleable construct. The "strip-like" fragments of notation and their reassembling reflect the performer's agency, much like a Fluxus artist assembling found objects into new configurations. The contrabass clarinetist, in this new score, becomes similarly empowered. They take on the role of both performer and curator, crafting a narrative from fragmented, non-linear parts.


Each card, like Richter’s strips, could be seen as a miniaturized, self-contained world. When assembled, the cards form an expansive and unpredictable sonic landscape, reflecting the performer's choices. This reciprocal oscillation between performer and notation forms the core of the piece—creating a living dialogue between sound, visual art, and performative intent.





Sunday, October 13, 2024

A Bassoon Duet Inspired by Ed Ruscha and David Carson

 





The Bassoon Duet Inspired by Ed Ruscha and David Carson

Excerpt from a Bassoon Duet inspired by Ed Ruscha and David Carson. In this work for two bassoons, I explore the noise and the fluidity of language.
Recently, when asked about the abundance of text in this work, I explained, “I just happened to create words like someone else uses traditional music notation.” Aside from newly crafted notational tablatures, language remains the my most consistent subject, one whose form and meaning I continuously explore.

Composition in Progress: Drawing Inspiration from Paolo Scheggi’s Intersuperfici





Composition in Progress: Drawing Inspiration from Paolo Scheggi’s Intersuperfici

In the world of contemporary music composition, visual art has long served as both muse and structural blueprint. The act of translation—from the spatial to the temporal, the visual to the sonic—offers a unique set of challenges and possibilities for composers. My new composition currently in progress explores this very relationship, taking direct inspiration from the work of Paolo Scheggi, specifically his iconic Intersuperfici series. These monochrome works, characterized by three overlapping canvases with elliptical or circular openings, serve not just as a visual reference but as a conceptual and structural foundation for this musical piece.

The Visual as Sonic Architecture

Scheggi's Intersuperfici (translated as "Inter-surfaces") are best known for their multi-layered canvases, which create a three-dimensional depth, despite the works being largely monochromatic. Each layer, though hidden to some extent by the one in front of it, contributes to an intricate play of light, shadow, and perception. In my current composition, this principle of depth and occlusion becomes a central feature.

I am treating the score not merely as a linear progression of notes and rhythms but as a spatial construct where overlapping musical ideas and layers interact, much like Scheggi's canvases. Each layer of the composition—whether a melodic line, harmonic structure, or rhythmic pattern—can be seen as analogous to Scheggi's canvases, with specific elliptical or circular "openings" through which the performer (and listener) peers into other musical layers.

Layering and Hidden Structures

Scheggi’s work disrupts the notion of a singular plane of representation, making the viewer constantly aware of what is seen and what is concealed. Similarly, this composition in progress plays with the idea of hidden musical structures. Certain elements, though seemingly dominant on the surface, will obscure or interact with underlying lines in a way that allows only glimpses of the hidden motifs or harmonic progressions. These "musical apertures" create a sense of mystery, inviting the performer to explore the spaces between the sounds as much as the sounds themselves.

In this way, musical material is revealed and obscured simultaneously, with layers of notational motifs emerging from beneath others only briefly before receding back into the fabric of the piece. 


Monochromatic Soundscapes

While Scheggi’s canvases are visually monochromatic, the subtle interplay of light and shadow between the layers gives the works a kind of hidden dynamism. In the composition, the idea of monochrome is translated into a restricted notational palette. 

Elliptical Openings as Musical Voids

One of the most striking aspects of Scheggi’s Intersuperfici is the elliptical or circular openings in the canvases, which suggest that something lies beyond but does not reveal it fully. In this score, these openings are translated into gaps, pauses, and silences. Rather than being traditional rests, these pauses are designed to be active spaces, creating anticipation and suggesting continuity beyond what is immediately performed. The performer must engage with these gaps not as empty voids, but as portals into an unseen (or unheard) musical space.

The idea of silence as structure is crucial here. Much like how Scheggi’s viewers are aware of what they cannot see, the performer is made aware of what they cannot hear directly, but which the structure implies is there. The elliptical gaps become invitations for the  imagination, asking the performer to mentally fill in what lies beneath the surface layer of sound. This creates an ongoing dialogue between presence and absence, sound and silence.

Tension Between the Static and the Fluid

A central tension in Scheggi’s works is between the static nature of the monochrome surface and the implied movement created by the openings. The composition mimics this tension by alternating between static harmonic or rhythmic sections and sudden shifts in texture or tempo. These moments of stasis—where a single chord or rhythmic figure is repeated, almost mechanically—are punctuated by rapid, almost violent, shifts that pull the performer into a new, deeper layer of the musical surface.

I aim to explore how these shifts can be both disruptive and fluid, much like how the circular voids in Scheggi’s works destabilize the viewer’s perception while also suggesting the continuous movement of light through the layers. In musical terms, the shift might occur through tempo modulation, sudden dynamic changes, or the introduction of a previously unheard performance technique into the texture, creating an effect akin to suddenly encountering a new visual plane beneath the first.

Performance as an Excavation

For the performer, this piece is less about following a straightforward narrative and more about excavating layers of sound. The score offers multiple interpretive possibilities, with certain sections allowing for improvisational freedom based on the performer’s ability to navigate the overlapping textures and silences. The challenge is not just in playing the notes but in bringing forth the hidden layers of the composition in a way that honors the tension between surface simplicity and underlying complexity.

Like Scheggi’s works, which encourage the viewer to engage actively with the space between the canvases, the score invites the performer to engage with the spaces between the sounds—the silences, the gaps, the moments where one layer of music folds over another. The performance thus becomes an act of discovery.

Conclusion

In this new composition, the influence of Paolo Scheggi’s Intersuperfici is not merely aesthetic; it is conceptual, structural, and performative. The score, much like Scheggi’s multi-layered canvases, plays with depth, occlusion, and revelation. It challenges the performer and the listener to consider what lies beneath the surface, to navigate the precarious relationship between sound and silence, and to explore the tension between the static and the dynamic. Ultimately, this piece is not just an homage to Scheggi, but a sonic reimagining of his artistic vision, translating his visual inter-surfaces into a rich and multilayered musical experience.

 

New Work For Vibraphone Inspired By John Baldessari. (Page 3 of 15)


New Work Inspired By John Baldessari

For Vibraphone

Bil Smith Composer

Published by LNM Editions




Person on Bed (Blue): With Large Shadow (Orange) and Lamp (Green), 2004. Three dimensional archival print with acrylic paint. 213×191 cm. Courtesy of Marian Goodman Gallery, New York / London / Paris.  John Baldessari


John Baldessari - National City (W), 1996-2009. Yancey Richardson Gallery, New York (Left) / John Baldessari - National City (4), 1996-2009. Yancey Richardson Gallery, New York (Right). 




Thursday, October 10, 2024