Sunday, August 23, 2026
My Compositional Approach: Visual Aesthetics and Morphological Sound in Notation
Introduction
My compositional approach is grounded in the interplay between visual art aesthetics and sonic morphology. Rather than treating musical scores as mere instructions, I see them as conceptual landscapes. They become spaces where sound and image converge, interact, and transform. This paper expands on the principles of my approach, drawing analogies with visual art, reimagining traditional notational systems, and positioning the performer as both interpreter and co-creator.
Conceptual Foundations
At the core of my compositional philosophy is a rejection of linearity and uniform interpretation. Traditional Western notation often encodes time and pitch in fixed, hierarchically structured ways. My work challenges this by embracing non-linearity, visual abstraction, textual layering, and an open-ended semiotic framework. This aligns more closely with contemporary visual art than with conventional musicology.
Non-linear Structure: Refracting Time and Narrative
Much like the fractured narratives of postmodern visual culture, my scores unfold through fragmentation, simultaneity, and multiplicity. Rather than progressing from left to right or top to bottom, they may:
Exist in spatial clusters
Allow for multiple entry and exit points
Encourage repetition, recursion, or omission based on performer judgment
This reflects a philosophy of perception: time is not fixed, but experienced differently across moments and individuals. My scores invite the performer to navigate these landscapes as one would navigate a gallery installation...non-sequentially, intuitively, and responsively.
Graphic and Abstract Notation: Image as Instruction
Inspired by the works of visual artists such as Locher and Wolfgang Plöger, I incorporate abstract geometries, drawn textures, gestural markings, and photographic overlays. These symbols do not correspond to fixed pitches or durations but instead evoke sonic gestures, densities, intensities, and spatial qualities.
Examples include:
Thick black lines indicating intense timbral focus
Diaphanous shapes suggesting ethereal textures
Intersecting polygons representing polyphonic intersections
Such notation resists immediate translation, requiring the performer to engage in interpretive acts that are both intuitive and analytical.
Lexical Idioms, Textual Material, and Hypo-Neology
Central to my notational language is the incorporation of textual forms: words, fragments, invented idioms, and constructed vocabularies. These serve not merely as annotations but as compositional elements with ontological weight.
Lexical idioms function as sonic triggers or affective markers, guiding the performer through states of articulation or gesture (e.g., "fracture-breath," "spill-rest").
Text appears in multiple typographic registers. It may be handwritten, digital, and/or stenciled with each encoding different semantic pressures.
Hypo-neology, or the creation of semi-words or almost-words, opens interpretive space while resisting fixed meaning. These hypo-words are meant to be sounded mentally or verbally, offering ambiguity as an invitation to embodied cognition.
Text operates as score, score as text. The visual and verbal coalesce into a singular notational logic, extending the boundaries of music notation into the realms of poetry, concrete language, and conceptual art.
Dynamic Interaction: Performer as Co-Creator
Just as visual art is not passively consumed but actively interpreted, my scores demand an embodied, responsive interaction. The performer becomes an essential co-creator, using the visual cues and textual idioms as springboards for sonic exploration. This involves:
Moment-to-moment decision-making
Internalizing visual rhythm and spatial layout
Embodying the affective state implied by the graphic and textual form
This process resembles performance art as much as it does traditional music-making. It prioritizes presence, risk, and responsiveness.
Score as Object and Space
The score, in my practice, is both an object of contemplation and a space of potentiality. It is simultaneously artwork, map, and temporal script. This triadic identity enables a rich multivalence, offering layers of meaning and interpretation that unfold over time and through performance.
Rather than encoding music in a deterministic way, the score becomes a prompt for phenomenological experience. It is a a site where sight, sound, and word merge, where performer and material converse.
Theoretical and Artistic Influences
My approach is deeply informed by cross-disciplinary artists and thinkers:
Hanne Darboven: for her use of textual and numerical structure as both visual rhythm and time code
Ed Ruscha: for his deadpan use of words as image, and the semantic instability of typographic display
Tacita Dean: for her visual poetics, erasure, and site-specific temporalities
Cornelius Cardew: for his revolutionary graphic notation and openness to performer agency
Enrico Castellani: for his manipulation of surface and dimensionality in spatial rhythm
Alberto Burri: for his material ruptures and the affective properties of physical textures
These influences help situate my work within a broader intellectual and aesthetic continuum, one that spans sound, text, image, time, and materiality.
Toward a New Syntax of Listening and Reading
My compositional method seeks not to direct but to suggest; not to prescribe but to provoke. By fusing visual art aesthetics with sonic morphology and lexical experimentation, I aim to create a syntax of listening and reading that is open, dynamic, and profoundly human. In this framework, the score is not a barrier but a bridge between disciplines, between senses, between people.
Redefining Composition and the ART Score: Dynamic Integration of Art Aesthetics from Locher to Ploeger
- Non-linear Structure: Much like modern visual art, this notation do not follow a linear, traditional progression. Instead, they offer fragmented or overlapping notations that reflect the complexity of human experience and perception.
- Graphic and Abstract Notation: Inspired by artists like Locher and Ploeger, I use visual symbols, geometric forms, and graphic cues to represent musical elements, allowing performers to experience the score as both a visual and aural representation of sound.
- Dynamic Interaction: Just as visual art often involves a dynamic interaction between the viewer and the piece, the scores demand that performers actively engage with the material, interpreting both the visual and musical aspects of the composition.
Saturday, August 22, 2026
Prescriptive Noise: Composing with the Pharmacopoeia by Bil Smith
My intent has never been to render music in the traditional sense. Rather, it is to transmute the language of authority, whether be it clinical, legislative, or linguisticinto notation. In Prescriptive Noise, I found in the pharmacopoeia not just metaphor but medium. It offered a dense, bureaucratic lexicon that mirrored the regulatory pressures of composition itself. Dosage became a form of articulation. Adverse events, my dynamics. Contraindications, the structural parameters of ensemble behavior. It was never about drugs. It was about systems of control masked as systems of care.
The materials of the pharmaceutical world are precise, impersonal, codified and designed to regulate and minimize ambiguity. But I was interested in what happens when that clarity is turned inside out. When 500 mg q8h becomes a percussive instruction. When sublingual or extended-release becomes a cue for how a timbre might decay or remain latent across pages of silence. I found these terms beautiful in their violence, elegant in their administrative coldness.
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| Damien Hirst's "Pharmacy London" Project |
I have often admired Damien Hirst, not for the repetition, but for the audacity of his taxonomy. In his work, pharmaceuticals are flattened into color and shape, depersonalized until they become aesthetic. But I wanted to push further: to resubjectivize that aesthetic, to make the performer complicit in its effects. My scores aren't visual inventories. They’re volatile compounds. The page might look clinical, minimal even, but it’s saturated with potential side effects.
There’s a reason I include boxed warnings in my scores. They are not performative gimmicks. They are functional constraints. When I write “Do not execute concurrently with color fields,” it’s not just instruction—it’s a reflexive device. It’s a challenge to the notion of compliance. Pharmaceutical language is inherently conditional, always hedging: may cause dizziness, may interact with other agents, not for use in patients with a history of interpretive consistency. I adopt that tone not to parody it, but to implicate it within musical practice.
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| Page from the score: "Bolribine" for Solo Oboe |
My use of microdosing terminology such as ramp-up titration, saturation threshold, and half-life is not mere stylistic borrowing. These are structures that replace form. Why write in movements when you can compose with pharmacokinetics? Why phrase in bars when time can be governed by absorption curves?
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| Page from the score: "Bolribine" for Solo Oboe |
In Prescriptive Noise, the music is not what is heard, but what is risked.
“I don’t like it, therefore AI.” AI: The New Alibi for Incomprehension
“I don’t like it, therefore AI.”
Don’t understand the image? AI.
Don’t like the music? AI.
The writing sounds too polished? AI.
Too strange? AI.
Too complicated? AI.
Too clean? AI.
Too unlike what you would have done? Definitely AI.
It is becoming the cultural equivalent of pointing at the sky and shouting “weather.”
The irony is that many of the people using “AI” as an accusation seem to have only the vaguest idea what AI can actually do, what it cannot do, and how much human direction, selection, revision, judgment, failure, and outright labor can sit behind a finished work.
AI can generate possibilities.
It cannot retroactively explain everything you dislike.
It cannot magically supply an artist with taste, intent, a point of view, a body of work, or years of accumulated decisions. It cannot turn confusion into plagiarism simply because the viewer would prefer an easier explanation.
And no, “it looks AI” is not analysis. Neither is “it sounds AI,” unless you can explain what specifically you mean beyond the fact that something made you suspicious.
There are perfectly legitimate arguments to have about authorship, originality, labor, training data, attribution, and the role of generative systems in creative work.
Those are interesting arguments.
But using AI as a synonym for “thing I don’t understand” is not one of them.
Sometimes a strange image is just a strange image.
Sometimes an unfamiliar score is simply unfamiliar.
Sometimes a complicated idea was made by a person who likes complicated ideas.
And sometimes the artificial intelligence in the room is not the problem.
It is the natural intelligence refusing to do any work.



















