Wednesday, June 10, 2026

Intuitive Compositional Tablatures: The Circos Development Tool

"Dendon" for Solo Tuba (2018)



"I Think I Am Rich" for Tuba and James Trussart Steel Deville Electric Guitar


"Temperance Meant Swimming Through The Heat" For Accordion and Schilke 'G' Trumpet

"Vague Emotional Overflow" for Trombone and Flute


"Craterfaced Woman Sell Sugarcane Juice In Plastic Bags" for Three Sopranos

"Extremity, Such As It Is, Half-Mercifully Attenuates Itself By Being Quotidian"
For Oboe and English Horn




Partial element (utilizing Circos) from one of the pages of the score for "Partitions: Cambics Alive in Sensient Amplules" for Chamber Septet.  World Premiere, April, 2014 with Renee Baker and The Chicago Modern Orchestra



















"Verseed" for Bass Marimba

"Verseed" for Bass Marimba

"Injectables" for Euphonium. Observations and Analysis by Joan Didion

                      

"Injectables" for Euphonium.


Bil Smith Composer


2019


Published by LNM Editions


Observations and Analysis by Joan Didion


Bil Smith's "Injectables" for Euphonium has carved out an audacious niche. It's a piece that doesn't just challenge the performer with its complexity; it seeks to upend our understanding of the relationship between mathematical abstraction and visceral experience. Smith, in his tacit, almost belligerent refusal to simplify, instead amplifies the abstract into the experiential, wielding exponential growth not as a concept to be merely understood but as a physical force to be felt, endured, and ultimately, interpreted through the medium of sound.


The score is a battleground of ideas, where the notational signs are not merely instructions but provocations. They dare the performer to engage with the piece not just intellectually but physically, to confront the strange, alien symbols on the page and translate them into something that resonates in the gut as much as it does in the mind. These signs, these indicators of Smith's compositional intent, perform a delicate balancing act, embodying both the spontaneity of physical matter and energy and the rigid predictability of mathematical equations. The exponential function becomes a signifier of this duality, a symbol that straddles the physical and the abstract, demanding a response that is at once emotional and analytical.


Bil Smith's approach to composition, and to "Injectables" in particular, mirrors the inextricable from the broader cultural or philosophical context. The score itself, with its reliance on indices and indexicality, underscores this connection. The index, in Smith's hands, becomes a tool for bridging the gap between the immateriality of abstraction and the undeniable materiality of musical performance. It is both a trace of the composer's own physical engagement with the score and a philosophical statement about the nature of representation and meaning in music.


Smith's exploration of rheology and viscosity in the creation of his notational content further deepens this engagement with the material. These are not the esoteric concerns of a composer detached from the physical world; rather, they are the preoccupations of an artist deeply invested in the physicality of sound and the tactile aspects of musical performance. The frictional gestures of the composer, captured in the score, range from the confident to the tremulous, each mark a testament to the physical act of creation.



This work stands as a monolith—a totem not just of musical complexity but of a deep conspiracy between the abstract and the visceral, the mathematical and the musical. Here, in Smith’s world, the exponential is not just a function to be plotted on the cold, indifferent grid of Cartesian coordinates but a wild, bucking bronco of growth and decay, its path charted across the score in a frenzy of notational innovation that dares the performer to ride or be thrown.


Smith, acting as the mastermind in this intricate dance of digits and diaphragms, wields viscosity and surface tension not as mere physical properties but as the very medium of musical expression. The score for “Injectables” becomes a battleground where ratios and relationships aren’t just calculated—they’re felt, in the gut and in the pulsing blood of the performer. Each note, each rest, each dynamic marking is a node in a vast, sprawling network of meaning, a point of convergence for myriad trajectories of thought, theory, and sheer sonic force.


This is music that refuses to be merely played. It demands to be inhabited, explored, as one might navigate a labyrinthine archive stuffed with arcane texts, each page a portal to another dimension of understanding. Smith’s approach to composition here is less about dictating terms than about setting parameters for a kind of controlled chaos, a sandbox of sonic possibilities where the performers are both agents and subjects, enactors and witnesses of the piece’s unfolding drama.


The conceptual rigor of “Injectables” belies a deeper, more delirious level of theorizing, one that extends tendrils into the very essence of what it means to create, to perform, to listen. Smith’s score is a nexus of alignments and nested codes, a system so densely packed with information that to engage with it is to find oneself reflecting on the nature of consciousness itself. What does it mean to understand music? To feel it? To be moved by it? These are the questions that “Injectables” poses, not just to the performer but to the audience, to the composer, to the very air through which its sounds will travel.


And yet, for all its perfectionism, all its meticulous control, “Injectables” is also an exercise in surrender. Smith must relinquish the illusion of absolute command, must acknowledge the fuzzy logic that underpins the relationship between creator, creation, and interpreter. This score is a living system, its rhythms and timbres a kind of biofeedback mechanism that connects composer, performer, and audience in a dynamic cognitive loop. The music that emerges from this process is unpredictable, uncontainable, a manifestation of precise practices that nonetheless open us to the uncharted territories of our own minds.


Smith's approach, deeply rooted in what might be termed "detailed expulsion theory," challenges not only how music is composed but also how it's perceived, experienced, and ultimately, how it reverberates within the human soul.


At he core of Smith's theory lies the concept of expulsion—not in the sense of mere removal or exclusion, but as a dynamic, generative process. Expulsion, in this context, refers to the deliberate distancing of elements within a composition from their conventional roles, expectations, or expressions. This is not a random scattering but a meticulous orchestration of dislocation, where every note, every timbre, and every rhythm is both a departure and a discovery.


Smith employs this theory to push the boundaries of musical notation, transforming it from a mere set of instructions into a map of potentialities. In his scores, traditional symbols coexist with innovative notational experiments, inviting performers to navigate a space where certainty is less important than exploration. The act of performing Smith's music becomes an act of creation in itself, a collaborative venture between composer and musician where the outcome is uncertain and the process is everything.


This expulsion from the traditional not only liberates the elements of music but also redefines the relationship between performer and score. Smith's compositions demand a level of engagement that transcends technical mastery, requiring performers to inhabit a space of heightened sensitivity and awareness. The performer, thus, becomes a medium through which the expelled elements of the composition find new form, new meaning, and new life.


- Joan Didion


Joan Didion was an American author best known for her novels, screenplays, and her literary journalism. In 2009, Didion was awarded an honorary Doctor of Letters degree by Harvard University, and another from Yale University in 2011. She also wrote two memoirs of loss, The Year of Magical Thinking and Blue Nights






"Histochemistry" for Flute and Oboe. The Score.




"Histochemistry" 

for Flute and Oboe

Bil Smith Composer

A Commission from Embraer

Published on LNM Editions

(Laboratorie New Music)

The Full Score



















Tuesday, June 9, 2026

Sound Formulary: The Score as Pharmaceutical Compendium

       


                            

Sound Formulary: The Score as Pharmaceutical Compendium

By Bil Smith


I’ve never believed in the sanctity of the score. I believe in its volatility. Its ability to behave like an unstable molecule defined by interaction, shaped by temperature, duration, resistance. In Sound Formulary, I have built not compositions but compendia.  These are scores that behave more like pharmacological guides than musical texts. Each symbol, each material inclusion, is not a note or cue, but an active agent with conditional efficacy.



Much like a formulary (the curated list of therapeutics permitted within a health system) my scores prescribe sounds through layers of permissions, black-box warnings, delivery vectors, contraindications, and dosage thresholds. I’m not interested in telling performers what to do, but under what conditions they may act. A score isn’t a set of instructions; it’s a permission structure laced with embedded contradictions.



I’ve always admired the absurd specificity of the pharmacopoeia: a drug’s classification, its delivery mode, its systemic effects, its inactive binders. This architecture became a model for me. In these works, an “active ingredient” might be a harmonic artifact. A “delivery mechanism” might be a performer’s breath timed against a page’s margin. An “excipient” (what pharma would call a non-active filler) is, in my scores, the whitespace, the metallic ink, the absence of gesture that supports the act without being it.



There is a score in this series titled RECOMBINANT TEXT / for Aural Bioequivalence Studies. It includes boxed labels, sample vial silhouettes, schedules of administration, and sequence variability dependent on circadian staging. Not as parody. Not as gimmick. But as structural syntax. These are protocols the way extended technique was for 20th-century composition: an invasive, sometimes alien, vocabulary forced into the system until it naturalizes.

This is the kind of music that doesn’t get played; it gets metabolized.

I’ve included materials like powdered gallium, scored cellulose, metallic inks, and blister pack embossings, not as texture, but as data. These elements are not ornamental; they hold notational function, they mediate performance possibilities, and they invite compliance or resistance. Every performance becomes a clinical trial.



In the world of drug development, a compound is tested, dosed, evaluated for efficacy and tolerability. I view my scores the same way. A first performance is a Phase I trial... does the concept survive contact with the body? Phase II is refinement. Phase III is confrontation. The FDA has no role here, but I have always imagined my notation under regulatory scrutiny: Is it legible? Is it dangerous? Does it induce affective disruption?

The musician becomes a pharmacologist. The sound becomes an off-label event.

The score: a diagnostic artifact.

The mistake: a necessary adverse reaction.

Music, in this formulary, is never safe.

It is investigational. And never intended for general use.


Monday, June 8, 2026

Scent as Score: Toward an Olfactory Notation in Contemporary Music


Contemporary music has long transcended the constraints of sound alone. From the visual scores of Cornelius Cardew to the algorithmic environments of generative music, the act of composition increasingly draws from multi-sensory vocabularies, challenging the boundaries of perception and authorship.

Amid these expansions, olfactory notation (the use of smells as formal compositional device) emerges as one of the least explored, yet most potent, vectors of aesthetic and emotional resonance. Consider the theoretical foundations, historical precedents, and experimental possibilities for using scent as a notational element in the domain of contemporary music.

What if a scent could function like a dynamic marking, a modal shift, or a temporal anchor? What if the audience did not only hear a piece, but inhaled its structure?


Olfaction as Aesthetic Medium

The Neurological Power of Scent

The olfactory system bypasses the thalamus and connects directly to the limbic system, the part of the brain associated with emotion, memory, and instinctual behavior. Unlike sound, which is processed linearly and decoded over time, smell is immediate, immersive, and involuntary.

This neurological immediacy gives scent a unique power in compositional frameworks, not as illustration, but as a trigger for atmosphere, affect, or even structural memory.

Synesthetic and Multimodal Precedents

While synesthesia has often been invoked in visual-music mappings (color for pitch, shape for rhythm), olfactory correspondences have been less codified. Nevertheless, composers like Scriabin (who envisioned a “perfume organ”), and artists like Marcel Duchamp (who deployed scent in installations), suggest a latent sonic-olfactory field awaiting exploration.

In the 21st century, scent has been integrated into performance art, immersive theater, and even branding.  Its formalization is a compositional tool in music remains underdeveloped.


Approaches to Olfactory Notation

There are several conceptual models through which scent may function as a notational element, either directly within the score or as a live, time-based performative gesture.

Scent as Structural Marker

In this model, distinct scents function like rehearsal letters, section markers, or thematic identifiers. Each scent denotes a specific part of the compositions signifying:

  • The transition from one movement to another

  • A modulation in key or texture

  • A shift in ensemble configuration

Example: A lavender mist signals a shift to a drone-based harmonic field; a burst of citrus marks the entry of rhythmic counterpoint.

Scent as Emotional Dynamic

Rather than symbolizing structural shifts, scent can also operate as a dynamic indication analogous to dolce, agitato, or sotto voce. Here, the scent is emitted to evoke a specific mood, influencing both performer and audience perception.

Example: A faint smoke aroma may darken the perceived tonality, encouraging slower, breathier bowing techniques.

Scent as Tactile Score

In experimental contexts, scent-infused objects (scratched paper, perfumed pages, microcapsules) can act as embedded cues in the physical score. Performers interpret these cues through inhalation, associating scents with sonic gestures rather than notated symbols.

This gives rise to a kind of “olfactory tablature,” where smells become signs—just as graphic symbols do in experimental notation.

Scent as Temporal Envelope

Scent can be deployed as a durational field, much like a sustained chord or atmospheric texture. Diffused over time, it becomes an envelope for the sonic experience, framing the listener’s temporal awareness.

This method is particularly effective in site-specific or immersive works, where sound and scent are spatially choreographed.


Practical Considerations & Constraints

Diffusion & Timing

Scents do not behave like sound. Their diffusion is slow, nonlinear, and spatially complex. Composers working with scent must consider:

  • Room size and ventilation

  • Scent volatility and dissipation rates

  • Audience placement and olfactory fatigue

Timed-release technologies, such as scent projectors or wearable olfactory nodes, are increasingly available and offer more control in performance settings.

Standardization of Scent Symbols

Unlike musical notation, there is no universally accepted symbolic system for olfactory cues. A developing lexicon of scent symbols, shorthand, and olfactory grammars is needed much like Labanotation for movement or Braille music for tactile reading.

Audience Variation

Individual perception of scent varies widely based on genetics, memory, and cultural context. One person’s nostalgic vanilla is another’s medical trauma. Composers must navigate this unpredictable interpretive field carefully.


Case Studies & Artistic Integration

Sissel Tolaas

While not a composer per se, Tolaas’ pioneering work in scent as material offers profound implications for music. Her synthetic recreations of fear sweat, city odors, and domestic spaces suggest a semantic scale for olfaction, akin to pitch or dynamic range.

Peter Ablinger

Known for pushing the limits of audibility and perception, Ablinger’s work invites a parallel in olfactory strategy: how scent may border or blur the threshold of perception, requiring heightened awareness.

Toward an Olfactory Score: Prototypes & Possibilities

A scent-based score could take multiple forms:

  • Layered scent staves, with timed deployment instructions

  • Scent-symbol hybrid notation (e.g., lavender spiral = harmonic suspension)

  • Scent-mapped rehearsal spaces, where walking through scent fields generates improvisational cues

  • Programmable scent releases, linked to MIDI triggers or gesture sensors

The future may even see the development of "olfactory patches" consisting of compositional units akin to electronic presets, blending multiple notes of scent to create mood profiles.

The Breath as Listening

To smell is to breathe, and to breathe is to time. In bringing scent into the notational field, composers enter the visceral register of listening, where perception is not only cerebral, but corporeal, cellular, and olfactorily inscribed.

"Some Remarks on the Notational Archetypes of Detonated Modernism" by Robert Castillo



Some Remarks on the Notational Archetypes of Detonated Modernism (as evidenced in the Scores of Bil Smith Composer)

by Robert Castillo


It would be neither precise nor helpful to say that Detonated Modernism is a notational “style.” It is not.


What Bil Smith has constructed through some mix of patentable madness, Dadaist engineering, and a deep if mostly misanthropic regard for post-Boulezian compositional ambition is better described as a recursive framework for symbolic implosion.


The scores themselves resemble something you might find rolled up in a tube at an abandoned space agency, labeled “Classified Temporal Folding Experiments / Music.” They exhibit the graphic residue of high-modernist architecture (Corbusian grids, constructivist diagonals), only interrupted by obliterative overprinting, typographic sabotage, and diagrammatic seizures.



Glyphic Overload and the Semiotic Failstate


What distinguishes Detonated Modernism from its historical predecessor (i.e., Modernism before the detonation, let’s call it) is the deliberate weaponization of notation’s authority. These scores present themselves with the visual grammar of institutional control. Clean staff systems, vectorized symbols, occasional appearances of F-clefs that behave like bureaucrats, but then sabotage that structure with delaminated syntax.


Archetypes emerge:


The Unanchored Ledgerline. A note floats far above or below the staff, tethered to nothing.


The Redacted Measure. Bars that contain only erasure marks or slashed diagonals.


The Scriptive Grenade. Bursts of dense verbal instruction interrupting a passage that otherwise looks playable until it suddenly isn’t (e.g., “Initiate sustained timbral contradiction at the point of mnemonic failure”).


The Speculative Clef. A mutated clef symbol of Smith's own design that may or may not signify transposition.


Performers trained on standard repertory encounter in these archetypes the sensation of being lied to by a typeface. The notation, while graphically consistent, withholds musical stability as it promises form but delivers semiotic volatility.


Temporal Instability and Notational Compression


One particularly destabilizing aspect is the temporal compression-rift phenomenon. Time, in Detonated Modernist scores, is not indexed linearly but compressed like coal: durations are nested within spatial metaphors (folds, coils, inflection points). As a result, performers must interpret chronological density as a spatial function, e.g.:


“If a down-bow gesture intersects a topographical ridge, accelerate through three notated systems simultaneously until pitch dissolves into a referential echo.”


This does not mean anything until you try to do it, and then, horrifyingly, it does. Performers don’t so much follow time as fall through it.


The Paradox of Instruction


In Detonated Modernism, the instruction itself becomes the performance. One of Smith’s notorious pieces for euphonium and three granulated carbon sheets, Scordatura Compendium (Torsion-B), includes a 17-page legend explaining the various types of circle overlays, hyphenated commands, and spatial interruptors. By the time one finishes reading the performance directives, the score feels less like music and more like a cryptographic war document.


Some instructions are brutally literal (“Detach the notehead at this point and reassign it to the dominant non-pitched resonance field”). Others are profoundly useless (“play this phrase as if it had just been refused citizenship”). Yet somehow the result elicits a sonic field so charged with tension that one senses the paper itself is trying to exhale.


What Smith’s Detonated Modernism does, whether we like it or not, is rescue notation from its utility. It blows apart the presumption that music is something that flows in straight lines, obeys logic, or behaves itself in public. His scores are both maps and mutinies... impossible until they’re attempted, profound because they fail productively.


You don't play them. You occupy them.


Which is perhaps the whole point: a score that refuses to be a score, a modernism that has already detonated but hasn’t stopped resonating.