Seeing as Matt has already started the trend of posting program notes for those little bundles of [HELLISH] joy we call dissertations, I’ve decided to jump on the bandwagon while the jumpin’ hot. Here’s the abstract/preface/other to my diss – Erebus. Since I’m not posting the score, I’ve excluded the section on graphical notation used in the piece.

Enjoy?

Abstract – Theoretical Concepts

I was approached in August by Jeff Loeffert to write a piece for saxophone quartet and computer for the H₂ quartet. After six months of work, Erebus is the result.

The work is divided into four movements, each of which is based around the symmetric pitch collection [D, Eb, F#, G, A, Bb, C#, D], its transpositions, and its component trichords and tetrachords (and their respective transpositions). This pitch structure is then combined with an independent computer voice based on Xenakis’ work with sonic clouds (see Formalized Music, Chapters 1 and 13) to create an aggregate of order and chaos in the form of the quartet and the computer, respectively. Over the course of the work, this dichotomy gradually resolves itself into a duet of equal forces, with a formal climax in the chorale of the final movement, when the two separate entities resolve into one.

The individual movements follow a generally ternary structure, with the addition of introductions and codas. The exception to the rule is the third movement, Ghost Winds, which is rhapsodic. This decision was based on my previous experimentations with formless music, none of which produced any satisfying results. The choice of ternary form is primarily due to the lack of a traditional tonal structure, and is instead reflective of the relative speed, density, and rhythmic similarities of the sections within the movements.

Program Notes

In Greek mythology, Khaos was the primordial state of existence from which the gods emerged. The first born of these was Erebus, the embodiment of the primordial shadow from which order was eventually born. Over the course of time, Erebus began to be seen as a sort of antechamber to Hades rather than a deity, eventually becoming a synonym for the land of the dead. Within this work, I have attempted to create this idea in sound over the course of the four movements, highlighting various aspects of the evolution of this mythology.

Insect Noises begins with the computer relegated to a supporting role as a drone, symbolizing the essential nothingness of the primordial state. Over this, the saxophones take on the dominant role, creating chaotic and distorted sounds interspersed with solo lines and a brief chorale in measure 50. The saxophones then continue in a slightly less distorted manner, employing a greater number of multiphonics before a brief coda that recalls the amorphous introduction.

Wasteland reverses the roles of the quartet and the computer from the previous movement. Now the dominant voice, the computer moves from a desolate cloud of sound into a pointed, if arrhythmic, sequence of plucked string timbres created from a synthesis of guitar, mandolin, banjo, and koto. As the movement continues, this section grows to a point before tapering off into a large-scale formal decay, ending with a return to the opening sections formless expansion, and concluding with a figure of repeated vocal sounds.

Ghost Winds is a slow rhapsody for both the computer and the saxophones, creating a pas de deux that briefly flirts with synchronicity through the ascending lines of grace notes that meld around the instrumental lines. As the movement progresses, the individual saxophones gradually begin to emulate the computer, creating an ever increasing amount of complex counterpoint.

Electric Night concludes the work by bringing the computer and the quartet into true synchronization, symbolizing the emergence of order from chaos. The computer and quartet gradually become more and more similar, culminating in the central chorale, before a recapitulation of the “blazing” tempo used in the beginning. In this final section the quartet and the computer continue to play off of the other’s part, ending the piece in a massive crescendo of rapid notes and multiphonics.

Performer’s Preface

Q. What happens when you stare into the void?

A. The void stares back

Q. Anything else?

A. If you look hard enough, you may see yourself in it.