1

Indeterminate Composition by Note Omission,

Shortening and Contraction

by

Kit Buckley, Bachelor of Music (Honours)

This thesis is presented in partial fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Music.

The University of Western Australia

School of Music

November 2012

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Abstract Although various forms of chance and indeterminacy have been utilised to varying degrees over the last 60 or so years by many different composers, not all possible avenues have been explored. This research proposes to examine three new methods of indeterminate composition, and compare them to established indeterminate techniques. This study will investigate three means of realising performance ‘indeterminacy’, through the removal of part of a written, determinate score by the performer. These procedures are note omission, where a note is replaced with a rest of equivalent value, note shortening, where part of a note's duration is removed and replaced with a rest of an equivalent value, and note contraction, where the note is skipped over, with the performer proceeding immediately to the next note. In each case, the application of these procedures should serve to highlight particular elements and sub-structures within the full score. In the introduction, the definition of ‘indeterminacy’, and other closely related terms, such as ‘chance’ and ‘improvisation’ will be established. As these terms have been used inconsistently from author to author, a clarification of their definition, as used in this thesis, is necessary before specific compositions and approaches can be discussed. After the literature review in the first chapter, the second chapter will examine some of the established indeterminate methods. Although this survey will not be exhaustive, it will discuss key indeterminate works, and works that contain indeterminate elements from the mid to late 20th Century, including compositions by Pierre Boulez, John Cage, Morton Feldman, Brian Ferneyhough, Karlheinz Stockhausen and Iannis Xenakis, to establish the context for the author's new methods of composition. The final chapter of the thesis will discuss the author's three new methods of indeterminacy. This will be undertaken with specific reference to three of the author’s original compositions, which will tie the composition portfolio together with the research. Passages from each piece will be analysed, with the implications of the indeterminate techniques compared to the works discussed in Chapter Two. Particular mention will be made of how this version of partial indeterminacy affects the basic elements of music such as melody, rhythm, form and harmony; and also how this may alter the nature of performance and rehearsal. The composer-performer-audience relationship will also be discussed, along with possible implications of recordings, and potential interpretational bias.

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Table of ContentsAbstract: 2 Table of Contents: 3 Acknowledgements: 4 Introduction: 5 Chapter 1:

Literature Review 10 Chapter 2: Examination of Established Indeterminate Methods 14 Chapter 3: 23

Note Omission 23 Note Shortening 24 Note Contraction 24 Piece for Large Chamber Ensemble 29 Lots of Pieces for String Quartet 32 Piece 2 for Solo Cello 34 Ideological Implications 37 Conclusion: 42 Bibliography: 46 Appendices:

Appendix 1: 52 Appendix 2: 53 Appendix 3: 54

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Acknowledgements I would like to thank my supervisors Chris Tonkin and David Symons for their constant support and suggestions. By forcing me to rethinking many of my musical convictions, they have helped make my thesis and compositions much more unilateral and open than they would otherwise have been. I would also like to thank my family, particularly my mother, who read through and edited many of the thesis drafts. Without their support and assistance, this thesis would probably never have been finished.

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Introduction

This thesis examines three new forms of indeterminacy that have been devised by the

author. The three are used in his original compositions and comprise performance

‘indeterminacy’ that allows the performer to omit part of the written score by either

shortening note lengths, (note shortening), eliminating notes entirely and replacing them

with silence, (note omission) or skipping notes and proceeding immediately to the next

note, (note contraction). Before these processes are explained in more detail, the

concept of indeterminacy needs to be examined.

Whilst the term 'indeterminacy' is relatively new in musical parlance, compositions that

can be described retrospectively as indeterminate have been written for many centuries.

Indeterminacy in music has however, been explored as a significant compositional field

in its own right almost exclusively since World War II, concurrently with similar

investigations in the other arts. Since then, only a small number of composers have

consciously set out to introduce indeterminate elements in their compositions. As such,

the potential of indeterminacy as a compositional method is still being examined.

However, the explorations that have occurred thus far, alongside those in other closely

related experimental music fields, have led to radical changes and re-evaluations of

many aspects of music.

From the outset, it is useful to establish a working definition of the terms chance and

indeterminacy. In musical literature, the terms 'chance' and 'indeterminacy' are often

used interchangeably. However, considering both in their original context, the Penguin

English Dictionary defines them as: Chance: '1a) the incalculable assumed element in

existence that renders events unpredictable. b) an event without discernible human

intention or observable cause ...'1 Indeterminate: 'not definitely or precisely determined

or fixed; vague.'2

1 Robert Allen (ed.), The Penguin English Dictionary Third Edition, (London: Penguin Books, 2007),

209.

With their adoption into music, these two key terms were given a

more specific meaning in the context of experimental music. It follows that the word

'chance' would naturally refer to something that has already been determined via an

unpredictable or uncontrolled process, whilst indeterminate suggests that the event that

2 Ibid., 653.

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will determine something that has yet to occur. Confusion arises when Paul Griffiths'

article in Grove Music Online, groups chance and indeterminacy under the general label

of 'aleatory' music, which the article defines as 'a term applied to music whose

composition and/or performance is, to a greater or lesser extent, undetermined by the

composer.'3 This is a meaningless categorisation, as it does not clarify whether the

composer, performer or both are responsible for the undetermined elements. The term

aleatory in fact only refers to chance, but not indeterminacy. Boulez states: ''Aleatory' is

a word that is frequently used, rightly or (more often) wrongly when speaking of

'chance'. It means a directed, or controlled, chance, one that you have yourself chosen.'4

which is an unhelpful conflation of the traditional meanings of the terms 'chance' and

'indeterminacy'. The author has therefore avoided using the word aleatory in the thesis,

as the definition does not clarify the range and scope of either chance or indeterminacy.

Although some scholars have suggested alternative definitions for the terms

indeterminacy and chance, there are problems created when these definitions contradict

the general meanings of the words. One problematic alternative suggested by Roger

Reynolds, states 'I see improvisation, indeterminacy and chance as progressive degrees

of a tendency to leave detail unspecified',5 and later, 'If ... a composer wants an

indeterminate situation, there can be no preferred solutions – and, ultimately, in the case

of chance, virtually no "rules"'.6

However, this proposal only suggests a degree of

freedom that each term might provide, without considering how it is to be created or

realised within compositions. More importantly, it puts improvisation, indeterminacy,

and chance on a linear scale of 'indeterminacy' by introducing a hierarchy of terms

which are at odds with the standard definitions of the words. However, measuring the

extent of the term 'indeterminacy' is a useful concept, so that a distinction can be made

between compositions based on how 'indeterminate' they are.

The difference between the terms indeterminacy and chance can be understood by

considering John Cage's Music of Changes (1951), a solo piano work that was 3 Paul Griffiths. 'Aleatory.' In Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online,

http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/grove/music/00509 (accessed September 20, 2010).

4 Pierre Boulez (ed. Christian Bourgois), Orientations (trans. Martin Cooper) (London: Faber and Faber Limited, 1986), 461.

5 Roger Reynolds, 'Indeterminacy: Some Considerations', Perspectives of New Music Vol. 4, No. 1 (Autumn – Winter, 1965), 136.

6 Ibid., 136.

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composed through the use of chance procedures. Cage governed how chance would be

generated and combined to form the composition, by tossing coins and consulting the I

Ching to determine each of the composition's elements. In the score itself he writes, 'it

will be found in many places that the notation is irrational; in such instances the

performer is to employ his own discretion,'7 so that certain parts of the score are in a

rough sense 'indeterminate'. Cage points out that 'though no two performances ... will be

identical ... [they] will resemble one another closely.'8 However, while Music of

Changes is somewhat more indeterminate than say, a Beethoven Piano Sonata, the level

of variance between performances will be slight, and as such, it is more correct, in the

author's opinion, to consider Cage's piece as an example of chance rather than

indeterminacy. In this way, Music of Changes also serves to highlight the difference

between indeterminacy and chance – if a piece is an example of one, then it does not

necessarily imply it is an example of the other. A related example is Earle Brown's

Indices. Although the piece was composed 'by means of tables of random numbers

(used in a way [that] introduces bias),'9

the score uses conventional notation

throughout, with no unusual performance instructions, so the resulting sounds are

determinate.

The terms 'indeterminacy' and 'chance' are however not mutually exclusive. John Cage's

4'33” (1952) for example, contains both indeterminate and chance elements. 4'33” is

clearly indeterminate, as the sounds heard within the piece have not been determined by

Cage, but it is also an example of chance as the sounds are also not determined by the

performers, and the duration was determined by chance operations.

The definition of indeterminacy does not distinguish between different 'degrees' of the

term. As 'determinate' and 'indeterminate' are used in standard music nomenclature, it is

useful to define the opposite of determinacy, named here as 'total indeterminacy'. With

total indeterminacy, a composition is independent of its performance, and any

performance is independent of the composition. This means a performance cannot be

easily, if at all, 'back-related' to the original score, and because of this, an unidentified

recording of the piece cannot be evaluated as an accurate representation of the original

7 John Cage, Music of Changes (New York: Henmar Press, 1961), Preface to Score. 8 John Cage, Silence: Lectures and Writings (London: Calder and Boyers, Ltd., 1961), 36. 9 Ibid., 37.

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composition. Total indeterminacy is perhaps best seen as an extreme, as there are very

few scores that give performers this degree of freedom. Its polar opposite, total

determinacy, is very much an ideal in a non-electronic context, as no amount of detail

on a musical score can account for every possible variable in human performance. As

such, although the terms determinacy and indeterminacy are only relative, they

nevertheless serve to separate some works from the latter half of the 20th

century from

earlier indeterminate compositions, as composers began to intentionally relinquish or

delegate the control of key elements of pieces to performers.

In music of the common practice period, where composers have indicated their

intentions to the performer with conventional notation, their ideas can be readily

comprehended by the performers. The role of the musicians is to interpret the notes on

the score by following the composer's intentions, to perform the piece as well as

possible. The audience hears and receives the composer's vision through the performer's

interpretation. With the exception of world premieres and/or very obscure works, there

is likely to be a score and/or a recording available, which can be studied in advance by

the audience to acquire an 'outline' of the composition. Consequently, the audience can

attend a concert knowing exactly what will be heard, but without knowing how it will

be interpreted by the performers. Thus in western art music, 'determinate' compositions

revolve around a fixed score, with the interest in the performance centred on the quality

of the original composition and the comparison and evaluation of different

interpretations of the piece. Indeterminate compositions, however, are not limited to a

single outcome, so the quality of the realisation depends not just on the performer's

interpretation, but also on how they select their material in indeterminate sections.

Within conventionally notated music, particularly prior to the 20th century, verbal

instructions or suggestions to the performer are seldom seen outside of a piece's title.

The composer's intentions were instead conveyed through musical notation, most of the

time through a collection of pre-existing symbols and common descriptive terms. In

many cases, these musical symbols only give a general guideline as to how the

composition is to be interpreted by performers. Notational symbols may be used to

preference certain interpretations of a work over others because of stylistic

considerations. Different symbols also take on different meaning according to the

performance traditions that have accrued for each individual composer and composition,

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as well as from the general stylistic traits of the period. If a performer is confronted with

musical nomenclature that they have encountered many times before, they may see

these symbols as being suggestive of how the work should be interpreted. For this

reason, many indeterminate compositions utilise unusual methods of notation and/or

presentation, to emphasise the non-traditional approach that the performers need to take.

All non-electronic but otherwise determinate compositions are independent of their

performances to a certain extent. This can be attributed to instrumental factors, (for

example, the brand of instrument used), the subjectivity of musical notation (for

example, the length of a staccato), and the performance space (for example, a large

concert hall versus a small room). However, the overall differences are minor, as the

framework of the composition is, in most pieces, consistent between performances. As

such, the sounds heard can be recognised as different renditions of the same musical

score. Any observed differences are almost all very minor and are related primarily to

performance practice.

The first chapter of this thesis comprises a literature review. The second uses John

Cage's writings and those of other composers and musicologists as a basis for exploring

some of the established compositional methods that employ indeterminate elements.

The compositions examined include work by John Cage and the other members of the

New York school – Morton Feldman, Earle Brown and Christian Wolff – as well as the

Europeans Karlheinz Stockhausen and Pierre Boulez, along with Iannis Xenakis's

Evryali. This forms the conceptual basis for the third and final chapter, in which the

author's techniques of note omission, shortening and contraction are defined and

discussed with relation to his original compositions. The dissertation concludes with a

discussion of the wider issues raised by note omission, shortening and contraction.

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Chapter 1

Literature Review

This literature review focuses primarily on the writings and interviews of composers

whose views on indeterminacy can be related directly to the compositions discussed in

this thesis. Seminal works by these composers are analysed in Chapter 2 and the

literature reviewed relates to these compositions. The foremost composer/author in the

field of indeterminacy, John Cage, published several books that chronicle his writings

and thoughts over a given time, including Silence,10 A Year from Monday,11 M,12

Empty Words,13 X14 and Anarchy.15 Cage's extensive interviews have been collected

in several books including Conversing with Cage.16 One definitive lecture, given in

1958 and published in Silence, discusses 'compositions that are indeterminate of their

performance.'17 This refers to pieces where the composer allows one or more important

elements of a composition to be determined by the performer. Cage's lecture forms the

structural basis of Chapter 2, due both to its wide-ranging focus on a variety of

compositions, and its place as one of the earliest discussions of indeterminacy. Cage's

interviews, and books written collaboratively, or with the close assistance of Cage, also

provide a substantial amount of information on his compositions and thought processes.

These include The Roaring Silence,18 and The Music of John Cage.19

Morton Feldman's Intersection 3 (1953), when examined from the perspective of

indeterminacy, is an example of a piece that provides choices within discrete intervals of

time in the composition's overall framework. Feldman wrote extensively on his own

10 John Cage, Silence: Lectures and Writings (London: Calder and Boyers, Ltd., 1961). 11 John Cage, A Year from Monday: New Lectures and Writings (Middletown: Wesleyan University

Press, 1967). 12 John Cage, M: Writings '67-'72 (London: Marion Boyars, 1998). 13 John Cage, Empty Words; Writings ’73–’78 (Middletown: Wesleyan University Press, 1979). 14 John Cage, X; Writings ’79–’82 (Middletown: Wesleyan University Press, 1983). 15 John Cage, Anarchy: New York City–January 1998 (Middletown: Wesleyan University Press,

2001). 16 Richard Kostelanetz, Conversing With Cage (New York: Limelight Editions, 1988). 17 Cage, Silence, 35-40. 18 David Revill, The Roaring Silence – John Cage: A Life (London: Bloomsbury Publishing, 1992). 19 James Pritchett, The Music of John Cage (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993).

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music and the indeterminate elements involved in his compositions. Some of his

writings have been collected in the book, Give My Regards to Eighth Street.20 Of these,

the most important text for this thesis is Liner Notes (1962),21

where Feldman outlines

the rationale behind his stylistic changes in composition. He discusses the ideas that led

him to write graphically notated music and the reasons why he subsequently rejected

this approach and went on to explore other methods of indeterminacy.

This dissertation also discusses Earle Brown's piece 4 Systems (1954), which is

independent of its performance as a result of its use of graphical notation, hence making

it indeterminate. Brown has spoken and written about his music in several important

articles and lectures, including 'The Notation and Performance of New Music',22 a

lecture presented at Darmstadt in 1964, and 'Transformations and Developments of a

Radical Aesthetic'.23

Brown is an interesting case study, since some of his compositions

utilise indeterminate elements, while others remain fully determinate, although only his

indeterminate works fall within the scope of this thesis.

Christian Wolff's Duo for pianists II (1958) is indeterminate in performance: – while

each pianist has a separate part, they cannot proceed through the piece independently, as

their selections also need to take the other pianist's actions into account and react to

their interpretation. The most important of his writings for this thesis is the article 'On

Form'24, in which Wolff discusses the indeterminate procedures involved in Duo for

pianists II, and how they are extension of those seen in Stockhausen's Klavierstuck XI.

In addition to this, he has given several interviews on the subject, including one with

David Patterson25 and another with Stephen Chase and Clemens Glesser.26

20 Morton Feldman (ed. B. H. Friedman), Give My Regards to Eighth Street: Collected Writings of

Morton Feldman (Cambridge: Exact Change, 2000).

In the

aforementioned article, Wolff discusses the inspiration for Duo for pianists II, as well as

its realisation in performance.

21 Ibid., 3-7. 22 Earle Brown, 'The Notation and Performance of New Music', The Music Quarterly Vol. 72 No. 2,

(1986), 180-201. 23 Earle Brown, 'Transformations and Developments of a Radical Aesthetic', Current Musicology 67/68,

(Fall 1999), 39-57. 24 Christian Wolff, 'On Form', Die Reihe Vol. 7 Form—Space, (1964), 26-31. 25 David Patterson, 'Cage and Beyond: An Annotated Interview with Christian Wolff', Perspectives of

New Music 32:2, (1994), 54-87. 26 Stephen Chase and Clemens Glesser, 'Ordinary Matters: Christian Wolff on his Recent Music', Tempo

- A Quarterly Review of Modern Music 58:229 (July 2004), 19-27.

12

In their writings about indeterminacy, Pierre Boulez and Karlheinz Stockhausen have

examined the role it played in some of their compositions from the 1950s. One piece by

each composer is discussed in this thesis. Boulez's 3rd Piano Sonata (1957-) is analysed

as a composition that has an indeterminate form that allows the performer to choose

their own path through the composition, within certain restrictions. In his article,

'Sonate, que me veux-tu',27 Boulez principally examines this work, outlining his own

thoughts on indeterminacy. He further explores these issues in a series of articles, the

most significant being 'Alea'.28 Stockhausen's Klavierstuck XI (1956) is also studied as

an example of an indeterminate composition where the order of segments may be varied

in performance. In Stockhausen's case, his 'Texte zu Eigenen Werken zur Kunst Anderer

Aktuelles',29 as well as his seminal article, '... how time passes...'30 and some of his

collected interviews31

examine his instrumental music, including Klavierstuck XI.

Although Iannis Xenakis does not generally utilise indeterminate techniques in his

compositions, a few of his pieces are (almost) impossible to play as written, forcing the

performer to compromise the written score. His solo piano piece Evryali (1973) has a

few passages that fall into this category, where the performer is unable to play the score

in a completely determinate manner. Many articles have been written on this

composition, some by performers who have collaborated with Xenakis on the work and

can recount his views, most notably those by Peter Hill32 and Marc Couroux.33

Michael Nyman's book, Experimental Music: Cage and Beyond,34

27 Pierre Boulez (ed. Jean-Jaques Nattiez, ), 'Sonate, que me veux-tu' in Orientations: Collected

Writings (trans. Martin Cooper), (London: Faber and Faber, 1986), 143-154.

is an important

source for early developments in indeterminacy. He describes how an alternative to the

European avant-garde emerged in America from Cage's ideas, and analyses a variety of

28 Pierre Boulez, 'Alea' in Stocktakings from an Apprenticeship (trans. Stephen Walsh), (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 26-38.

29 Karlheinz Stockhausen, Texte zu Eigenen Werken zur Kunst Anderer Aktuelles, (Köln: Verlag M. DuMont Schauberg,1964).

30 Karlheinz Stockhausen, '... wie die Zeit vergeht …', (Die Reihe 3, 1957): 13-42. Trans. by Cornelius Cardew as '... how time passes ...', English ed. of (Die Reihe 3, 1959): 10–40.

31 Karlheinz Stockhausen Official Website – Stockhausen.org 2009, Kürten, viewed 31 October 2009, <http://www.stockhausen.org/>.

32 Peter Hill, ‘Xenakis and the Performer’, Tempo New Series, No. 112 (March 1975), 17-22. 33 Marc Couroux, ‘Evryali and the Exploding of the Interface: From Virtuosity to Anti-Virtuosity and

Beyond’, Contemporary Music Review 21:2-3 (2002), 53-67. 34 Michael Nyman, Experimental Music: Cage and Beyond, (London: Studio Vista, 1974, repr.

Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999).

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pieces, including many of the key American indeterminate compositions of the 1950s.

Nyman's work is one of the earliest secondary sources that profiles and explores the

creative direction of various indeterminate composers, including Cage and other

members of the New York School.

The German musicologist and sociologist Theodor Adorno developed arguments in

some of his later writings, including the essays 'Music and New Music' and 'Vers une

musique informelle', both published in Quasi una fantasia.35

These articles discuss

issues surrounding the post World War II avant-garde, including composers that utilise

indeterminate procedures in their music. While Adorno's writings do not discuss

particular compositions in detail, they are relevant because they highlight the context

surrounding indeterminacy.

Paul Griffiths has written extensively on new music, and in works such as A Concise

History of Modern Music36 and Modern Music and After37 has covered the early

developments of indeterminacy in detail, including an examination of all the composers

mentioned in Chapter 2. He also wrote the Aleatory38

entry for Grove Music Online,

which in spite of the mistaken definition of terms, still provides the most comprehensive

encyclopaedic source for this topic. Notwithstanding the avoidance of the term 'aleatory'

in this thesis, the article still contains much valuable information on indeterminacy.

Composers and scholars have discussed and defined indeterminacy in various ways, and

it would be outside the scope of this paper to examine all that has been written about the

subject. The most important writings on indeterminate music come from the American

composer, John Cage, and of these, the lecture Indeterminacy39

35 Theodor W. Adorno (trans. Rodney Livingstone), Quasi Una Fantasia - Essays on Modern Music

(London: Verso, 1992).

given in Darmstadt

forms the basis of the next chapter. This lecture was one of the first formal, systematic

attempts to investigate indeterminacy in detail. The indeterminate compositions

discussed in Cage's lecture will be supplemented with the comments of other scholars,

36 Paul Griffiths, A Concise History of Modern Music: From Debussy to Boulez (London: Thames and Hudson, 1978).

37 Paul Griffiths, Modern Music and After: Directions Since 1945 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995).

38 Paul Griffiths, 'Aleatory', Grove Music Online (ed. L. Macy), <http://www.grovemusic.com> (Accessed 15 February 2008).

39 Cage, Silence, 35-40.

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composers and their compositions, and will contextualise some of the established forms

of indeterminacy.

15

Chapter 2:

Cage's lecture Indeterminacy presented on the 8th of September, 1958 at Darmstadt was

the second of three lectures he gave at the Darmstadt International Summer Courses for

New Music. Although the lecture was the most conventional of the three with regard to

formal structure, it describes and questions the ideology behind significant European

and American indeterminate compositions of the 1950s.40 It comprises six sub-lectures,

the first five of which discuss one or two pieces. Each is prefaced with the statement

“this is a lecture on composition which is indeterminate with respect to its

performance.”41

As the central topic of this thesis is indeterminacy, only the

indeterminate works mentioned in Cage's lecture, and parts of the last sub-lecture are

examined. Although the pieces examined in this chapter are not fully representative of

all indeterminate developments, they highlight the differences between the more

'indeterminate' approach taken primarily by the New York School of American

indeterminate composers and in response, the more 'controlled' approach taken by many

major European indeterminate composers.

In the second half of the first sub-lecture, Cage discusses Karlheinz Stockhausen's

Klavierstuck XI, one of the most important indeterminate compositions from Europe in

the 1950s. This work shares stylistic similarities with contemporary American

indeterminate compositions, such as Feldman's Intermission 6, which also use a variable

layout on the page, although Stockhausen's work is considerably more complex and

places additional restrictions upon the pianist. Klavierstuck XI consists of 19 short

musical fragments, distributed irregularly on an oversize sheet of paper. The performer

is instructed to start at any fragment, and then proceed to whichever the eye catches

next. The interpretative markings for the next fragment are determined from the

previous one, and the piece ends after any fragment is heard for a third time. Thus, “the

sequence of these parts ... is indeterminate, bringing about the possibility of a unique

form, which is to say a unique morphology of the continuity, a unique expressive

content, for each performance.”42

40 Martin Iddon, 'Gained in Translation: Words about Cage in Late 1950s Germany', Contemporary

Music Review 26:1 (2007), 95-96.

However, as Eco mentions, “Stockhausen's

Klavierstuck XI ... will never be [in performance] gratuitously different. [The piece is]

41 Cage, Silence, 35. 42 Ibid.

16

to be seen as the actualisation of a series of consequences whose premises are firmly

rooted in the original data provided by the author.”43

Certain key aspects of the work

including the notes and rhythms (in relative terms, as the tempi may change) are fixed,

ensuring that Stockhausen's influence over the final sound of the piece is still present.

However, as two different performances could potentially use completely different

fragments, Klavierstuck XI is still a composition that is clearly independent of its

performance.

The instructions for Klavierstuck XI allow for performances of varying lengths, but

there seems to be an unspoken intention that most, if not all of the fragments will be

played twice before one is repeated for a third time. This approach allows for a longer

performance of the piece, so the audience can hear more outcomes of the decision-

making process. Another issue, discussed in greater detail in Chapter 3, is the choice of

which fragments to play. Although Stockhausen indicates that the order of the fragments

should be governed by what the eye sees next, in practice, pianists are likely to prepare

a version of the work that allows for a large number of fragments to be heard twice

before any is repeated for the third time. Moreover, by the time a pianist has learned this

difficult piece, they are likely to have memorised where the various fragments are on

the score and would not move their eyes spontaneously without knowing what they

would see next. This would seem to run contrary to Stockhausen's desire for spontaneity

in performance. This issue not only applies to Stockhausen's piece, but it also highlights,

in general terms, how a performer might approach any indeterminate composition.

There is always the possibility of memorising an interpretation, and determining

beforehand exactly which elements are to be heard in performance. As it is impossible

to tell from a performance if the performer has pre-prepared their interpretation,

Stockhausen's instructions for spontaneity seem to be at cross-purposes with the

composition's structure.

Morton Feldman's Intersection 3 (1953), is a representative example of his graph music

from the 1950s and '60s, and illustrates the freer approach to indeterminacy taken by the

New York School. Intersection 3 consists of a division of the piano keyboard into low,

medium and high registers, and a division of time into discrete intervals, indicated

43 Umberto Eco, The Open Work (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1989), 19.

17

respectively by the horizontal and vertical columns on the score. In each box a number

of notes, indicated as a numeral, are to be played at the specified register, the

combination of these elements creating the graph-like appearance of the score. Feldman

does not specify exactly where the low, medium and high registers fall, nor does he

provide any suggestions for the melodic, harmonic or rhythmic elements, beyond

specifying how many notes are to be heard in a given register at a given interval of time.

Cage, in the second sub-lecture, observes that the performer's role in Intersection 3 as

“that of a photographer who on obtaining a camera uses it to take a picture. The

composition permits an infinite number of these,”44 highlighting how the basic subject

matter remains fixed, but the range of possible interpretations within that framework is

almost unlimited. Whilst Feldman does not give any interpretative guidelines in the

score of Intersection 3, he nevertheless seems to prefer some realisations over others.

Nyman observes that, “after several years of writing graph music Feldman began to

discover its most important flaw. He found it was not only allowing the sound to be free,

but was also liberating the performer. He had never thought of the graph as an “art of

improvisation” but more as “a totally abstract sonic adventure”. Feldman regarded this

realisation as important, stating, “I now understood that if the performers sounded bad it

was less because of their lapses of taste than because I was still involved with passages

and continuity that allowed their presence to be felt.”45 Cage also argued that,

“Feldman's conventionally notated music is himself playing his graph music.”46 Thus,

the unspoken (or unwritten) implication is that any interpretation of his graphical scores

has to be harmonically, rhythmically, and dynamically in line with his conventionally

notated works of the same period, as per traditional ideas of performance practice.

Whilst Intersection 3 is clearly indeterminate, this element is tempered by the above

performance considerations that provide unwritten guidelines for how the piece should

be realised. Indeed, Feldman later indicated his dissatisfaction with graph music, stating

that “if the means were to be imprecise the result must be terribly clear”47

44 Cage, Silence, 36.

, referring to

the difficulties arising from the amount of freedom given to the performer, while

preferring certain outcomes over others in indeterminacy, both of which are problematic

areas of graph music. The issue of potential interpretative bias will be further explored

in Chapter 3 of the thesis.

45 Nyman, Experimental Music: Cage and Beyond, 70. 46 Ibid., 53. 47 Feldman, Give My Regards to Eighth Street: Collected Writings of Morton Feldman, 6.

18

Next, Cage discusses 4 Systems (1954), one of Earle Brown's earlier indeterminate

experimental compositions. 4 Systems comprises a single page of notation, consisting

entirely of black rectangles of various sizes. On the score Earle Brown notes that the

piece “may be played in any sequence, either side up, at any tempo. The continuous

lines from far left to far right define the outer limits of the keyboard. Thickness may

indicate dynamics or clusters.”48 Despite the use of the phrase 'outer limits of the

keyboard' and the dedication of the score to the pianist David Tudor, the piece has no

specified instrumentation. Cage describes the performer's role in 4 Systems as “that of

making something out of a store of raw materials ... The performer's function, in the

case of 4 Systems, is dual: to give both structure and form; to provide, that is, the

division of the whole into parts and the morphology of the continuity.”49

Although the

elements in 4 Systems are determined in relation to each other, the relative ranges of the

notes, the temporal aspects such as rhythm and the overall performance length are

indeterminate. Beyond the suggestion of 4 Systems being a piano work, it is unclear

whether there are any other unspoken intentions or preferred interpretations. However,

as Brown was also writing music of a more determinate nature at the time, these works

may provide interpretative guidelines for his indeterminate compositions. Although 4

Systems is clearly an example of indeterminacy, the piece is 'indeterminate' to such a

degree that performances are unable to be followed on the score. Consequently, it is

easier to understand each performance as an original work in its own right.

The final indeterminate composition discussed in Cage's lecture is Christian Wolff's Duo

for pianists II (1958). Wolff states, “Karlheinz Stockhausen's Klavierstuck XI introduced

the notion of a variable, unpredictable continuity of structural sections, variably

characterised according to the sequence in which they happen to appear, and an

indeterminacy of the total length of a piece at any particular performance. Beginning

with that idea my Duo for pianists II makes a counterpoint of two sequences of

structural units each indeterminate before any performance.”50

48 Earle Brown, 4 Systems (New York: Associated Music Publishers, 1961), Footnote on Score.

The score consists of a

number of small blocks of music which are each highly indeterminate, with elements of

pitch, rhythm and dynamics to be determined and interpreted by the performers. In

49 Cage, Silence, 38. 50 Wolff, 'On Form', 29.

19

addition, the two pianists need to react dynamically to each other, following detailed

cueing instructions from the composer for how to proceed between sections. The

players take cues from each other that are specified in general terms but are not

necessarily limited to a single outcome. The indeterminate nature of this work stems

from the interactions between the two performers in addition to their independent

actions. Cage writes, “in the case of Duo for pianists II, structure, the division of the

whole into parts, is indeterminate.”51 This piece has no overall 'determinate' score, but

the parts each performer plays are not completely independent of each other. Cage

describes the piece as “evidently not a time-object, but rather a process the beginning

and ending of which are irrelevant to its nature.”52 The piece is a series of connected

events that are both independent and indeterminate. Cage goes on to state that: “the

function of each performer in... Duo for pianists II is comparable to that of a traveller

who must constantly be catching trains the departures of which have not been

announced but which are in the process of being announced. He must be continually

ready to go, alert to the situation, and responsible.”53 Wolff states that “both fluidity

and exactness of performance are possible. And no structural whole or totality is

calculated either specifically or generally in terms of probabilities or statistics. The

score makes no finished object, at best hopelessly fragile or brittle. There are only parts

which can be at once transparent and distinct.”54 Here, he refers to how only a limited

number of possibilities from the overall score can be realised in any one performance,

with even the overall structure being indeterminate. The length of the work is also

indeterminate, as “there is no cue for ending the piece; the performers agree on a total

duration.”55

As music is experienced over time, a variation of length between different

performances adds an additional level of indeterminacy to Duo for pianists II. The

Cage, Feldman, Brown and Wolff compositions discussed in this chapter are

collectively classified in the remainder of the thesis as representative examples of the

'radical' approach to indeterminacy, where multiple elements of the score are left for the

players to determine in performance.

The overall theme of Cage's lecture is an examination of how musical possibilities can

51 John Cage, Ibid., 38. 52 John Cage, Ibid., 38-39. 53 John Cage, Ibid., 39. 54 Christian Wolff, ‘On Form’, Die Reihe Vol. 7 (1964), 30. 55 Wolff, 'On Form', 30.

20

be expanded with regard to compositions that are indeterminate of their performances.

Although it briefly explores a range of possibilities, some other methods will be briefly

described below to help contextualise the discussion of the author's methods in the final

chapter of the thesis.

One other important European indeterminate composition, contemporary to

Stockhausen's Klavierstuck XI, is Pierre Boulez's Third Piano Sonata (1955- ). Although

the whole composition was performed by Boulez in 1967, only Trope, the second

movement and Constellation-Miroir, the retrograde section of the third movement,

Constellation, have been published complete as of 2012, although fragments and

facsimiles exist of some other movements56. Boulez became aware of indeterminacy

through his contact with Cage in the 1940s and 50s, although his approach to it was

more restrictive than the composers of the New York school. Boulez was also inspired

by the open form found in Stephane Mallarme's Un Coup de Dés Jamais N'Abolira Le

Hasard, where the structure, layout and typeface allow for the poem to be ordered in

various ways, whilst still maintain the original context57. In justifying the Third Piano

Sonata's approach, Boulez asks: “Why compose works that have to be re-created every

time they are performed? Because definitive, once-and-for-all developments seem no

longer appropriate to musical thought as it is today, or to the actual state that we have

reached in the evolution of musical technique, which is increasingly concerned with the

investigation of a relative world, a permanent “discovering” rather like the state of

“permanent revolution”.''58

56 Dominique Jameux, Pierre Boulez, (trans. Susan Bradshaw), (London: Faber and Faber, 1991), 299.

By 'relative world', Boulez is referring to all the varying

possibilities encompassed by each indeterminate composition, so that performances of

the work are continual discoveries. The 'restrictions' placed on the Third Piano Sonata

vary throughout, but certain elements of the piece are conventionally notated (and hence

fixed), most importantly the notes and rhythms. In the sections Parenthese and

Commentaire, from Trope, there are optional passages that can be played or omitted

independently of each other. There are only a small number of optional sections, and as

these are interspersed with determinate sections that must be played, the total number of

outcomes available to the pianist is relatively limited and these outcomes are

structurally unified by the determinate sections. Although performances will differ from

57 Dominique Jameux, Ibid., 93. 58 Pierre Boulez, 'Sonate, que me veux-tu', 143.

21

each other, making the overall piece indeterminate, these differences are not radical.

The determinate elements and conventionally notated score ensure that the overall

sound of each section is maintained in Boulez's style. Boulez describes the nature of the

3rd formant, Constellation and its pair, Constellation-Miroir as thus: 'There is a certain

resemblance between this Constellation and the plan of an unknown town ... The actual

route taken is left to the initiative of the performer, who has to pick his way through a

close network of paths.'59

However, in the Third Piano Sonata the overall degree of

indeterminacy is relatively limited when compared to, say, Feldman's Intersection 3.

Although the Third Piano Sonata's form may vary in performance, all the sounds heard

have been envisaged during the compositional process by Boulez, making the work also

more 'determinate' than Stockhausen's Klavierstuck XI. There are far fewer pathways

that can be taken through the score, resulting in a composition that is for the most part

determinate, with possibilities for small 'indeterminate' divergences. The Boulez and

Stockhausen examples suggest that variation in structure alone is unlikely to lead to a

highly indeterminate composition. These two European compositions are used as

representative examples of what is termed, in the remainder of the thesis as the

'conservative' approach to indeterminacy, where the composer still maintains a

significant degree of control (or determinacy) over the final sound of a performance.

One category of indeterminate compositions not mentioned in Cage's lecture (possibly

because there were no extant examples at the time), is that of pieces which are

indeterminate because they are conventionally unplayable. As only a portion of these

scores can be reproduced by their performers, the pieces become (perhaps

unintentionally) indeterminate in performance. Examples can be seen in some

compositions from the 1960s onwards, which developed in parallel with new advances

in technical virtuosity. Several sections of Iannis Xenakis's solo piano work Evryali

(1973), exceed the limitations of any human performer, as acknowledged by

commentators including the pianist Marc Couroux. Couroux writes that 'the gauntlet is

so clearly thrown down that the difficulties cannot be anything other than

premeditated.'60

59 Ibid., 151.

Consequently, although Xenakis is not usually considered to be an

indeterminate composer, several of his pieces have to be 'simplified' by their performers.

60 Couroux, ‘Evryali and the Exploding of the Interface: From Virtuosity to Anti-Virtuosity and Beyond’, 57.

22

It should be noted that whilst Xenakis used stochastic and other mathematical formulae

to assist in the generation of many of his compositions, these compositional methods

fall into the category of chance rather than indeterminacy, as the final scores all use

determinate notation. Aside from the purely technical aspects of Evyrali, such as the

very fast moving semiquaver chordal passages throughout; between the fifth bar of Page

9 and the fourth bar of Page 10 there are stretches of over two octaves, which are well

beyond the reach of almost any human hand. Although these stretches could perhaps be

arpeggiated, this would seem to be a betrayal of Xenakis's intention, and even this

would be nigh impossible to perform at the full tempo indicated. In this respect, Evyrali

is different to many of Xenakis's other compositions, including his earlier piano work,

Herma (1962). Although Herma also places extreme demands on a pianist's technique,

including very rapid wide leaps, the composition still remains within human

capabilities. Couroux's article also discusses whether Evyrali should be subject to a

fixed reduction of notes, or whether the player should attempt to find their own path

through the piece at each performance. Couroux describes a conversation with Xenakis

where he was asked Couroux whether he 'rethought Evryali every time [he] played it.'61

Although this idea is not stated explicitly in the score, the question suggests Xenakis

would prefer ceaseless reinterpretations. If the piece is realised with the same selection

of notes each time, then the reduction essentially becomes a new piece, as some parts of

the original will always remain hidden from the audience, as is the case with Peter Hill's

approach to Evryali.62

Of course, these variations would be slight, as in most places,

the score is able to be played as written by a virtuoso pianist.

Many of Brian Ferneyhough's compositions also contain sections that are virtually

unplayable, requiring the performers to decide which details are feasible for them to

execute. Ferneyhough states, 'What interests me is encouraging the performers, in any

given composition, to come to terms with their own natural limits, and thereby

transcend them.'63

Although Ferneyhough, like Xenakis is not considered to be an

indeterminate composer, by forcing performers to make compromises in order to play

his compositions, he adds an indeterminate element to them.

61 Ibid., 66. 62 Peter Hill, ‘Xenakis and the Performer’, Tempo New Series, No. 112 (March 1975), 17-22. 63 James Boros and Richard Toop (eds.), 'Interview with Joel Bons', quoted in Brian Ferneyhough

Collected Writings, (Amsterdam: Harwood Academic Publishers, 1995), 233.

23

It should be added that these issues of difficulty do arise in earlier repertoire,

particularly in some piano music of the 19th century. In the works of Liszt, for example,

the use of 10ths and 11ths that appear in some of his early piano works lie out of the

reach of many pianists, and as such the score needs to be compromised or simplified

either by arpeggiating chords or transposing parts down an octave. Due to developments

in the piano over the last two centuries, certain passages that could be executed cleanly

on earlier instruments cannot now be effectively realised on a modern piano. An

example of this noted by Alan Walker is the opening bar of the 8th of the 12 Grandes

Etudes (1837), where the piece in the final version, Wilde Jagd from the Études

d'exécution transcendante (1851), was simplified as 'such measures are virtually

unplayable on a modern piano; at any rate, the texture will not speak.'64

In this case,

because of the performance difficulties, the potentially indeterminate 1837 version of

the work has been superseded by the 1851 revision, and so in practice this piece cannot

be considered as an indeterminate composition.

Only a small number of compositions that utilise different methods of indeterminacy

have been discussed. Although these methods are not fully representative, they do cover

the key trends within indeterminate music as they represent some of the pioneering

'radical' and 'conservative' indeterminate compositions. While many of the above

techniques share some similarities with the author's approach, the indeterminate

methods that have been used in his original compositions since 2008, are to his

knowledge largely unique. These techniques are the subject of the third chapter.

64 Alan Walker, Franz Liszt: Volume Two, The Weimar Years, 1848-1861 (London: Faber and Faber,

1989), 148.

24

Chapter 3:

This chapter details the techniques used in the author's original compositions dating

from the beginning of 2008. During 2007, the author began to question the idea of a

fixed performance with a predetermined outcome, and started to explore ways in which

musicians could have a greater role in a composition's realisation. The first piece written

giving the performer more freedom was the Piece for Solo Violin (2007), where the

violinist is asked to play 'extremely expressive[ly]' and 'with much freedom'. Although

this instruction had the potential to change the piece's character a little, the potential

outcomes would however still remain relatively fixed. The author felt uncomfortable

with traditional ideas of musical interpretation, where composers specify almost all of a

composition's details, leaving only minor interpretative decisions to the performer. He

also began to ponder the intent of musical performance, which led to the following

questions: If one cannot surpass or even equal existing, definitive recordings of a

composition, is there any reason to perform at all? Why attend performances at all, if

one is already familiar with the piece, and knows exactly what notes and rhythms will

be heard? Is there a need to try and reproduce a fixed ideal (or near ideal)? Or is it better

to give the performer, in conjunction with the composer, some freedom to create their

own ideal? Starting from these questions, the methods of note omission, note shortening

and note contraction evolved over the next three years. These methods are a form of

what Adorno describes as the transformation of 'psychological ego weakness into

aesthetic strength.'65

The author's unwillingness to have control over all elements of a

composition (psychological ego weakness) and subsequent use of note omission,

shortening and contraction serves to increase the expressive potential and variety

available in performance (aesthetic strength). In their simplest form, all three procedures

are performed on an otherwise conventionally notated, 'determinate' score. This is the

case for all of the author's original compositions discussed in this thesis.

Note Omission

In 'indeterminate composition by note omission', the performer may omit any number of

notes from the original score, and replace them with a rest (i.e. silence) of the equivalent

65 Adorno, Quasi Una Fantasia - Essays on Modern Music, 283.

25

duration. Whilst each decision on note omission is independent of others, the overall

effect of note omission aims to highlight ideas and motives that would not be evident, or

as evident in a completely determinate performance.

Note Shortening

Indeterminate composition by note shortening involves reducing the length of a note by

subtracting a portion of its duration and replacing the removed section with a rest of an

equivalent value. The subtraction of the value takes place from either the beginning or

the end of a note (depending on the composer's instruction) to avoid subdividing a note

into two different sounds.66

Note shortening can reduce the duration of a note by any

amount, including the whole of a note's value, which would then have the same effect as

note omission. This method is not suited to all instruments, as plucked or beaten

instruments only offer limited control over a note's duration, hence the effect would not

be as audible.

Note Contraction

The third method of indeterminate composition created by the author involves the

technique of 'note compression' or 'note omission and contraction' (note contraction). In

note contraction, each performer can omit notes at will in a similar manner to note

omission. However, instead of replacing the omitted notes with a rest of an equivalent

length, the performer proceeds directly to the next note. One advantage of this technique

is that when two or more instruments play the same line, their interpretations of it are

likely to differ. If the two performers are only one note apart, then some sort of canonic

synthesis between the parts will be created. This allows for a common thread to be

created in a composition through multiple, simultaneous interpretations of the same line,

instead of just through the relationships within the individual part, or between multiple

distinct parts.

Note contraction, in one sense, allows for greater variation than note omission or

shortening. In addition to changes in melodies and rhythms (and by implication,

66 If subdivision were employed in the middle of the note, this process would then become analogous to

free rhythm on a given note, which would negate the identity of the technique of note shortening.

26

harmonies as well), it will also change the vertical alignment of parts, the relative length

of each and consequently the overall length of all of the composition's sections.

However, the flexibility provided by note contraction must be tempered by the

performers so that the resulting performance does not become anarchic. The disruption

of a composition's vertical alignment means the original score must be carefully

constructed so that note contraction can realise the potential within the score, and not

completely obscure the original ideas. Note contraction will also change the duration of

a piece. A related example was seen earlier in the discussion of Wolff's Duo for pianists

II, but instead of the duration being determined by the performers, with note

contraction, the maximum length of a piece is fixed, as the duration can only be

shortened from the original score. Although Duo for pianists II also shares some

similarities with note omission in ensemble pieces, the piece also requires the two

pianists reacting to cues from each other, instead of acting independently within their

own parts.

Despite the added flexibility note contraction provides over note omission or

shortening, it also has some limitations. Although a composition using this technique

could be scored for a single instrument, all the decisions undertaken by the performer

would remain completely concealed from the listener. This is different from note

omission, where the notes still retain their full value as silence. Another problematic

area, when scoring for multi-stave instruments such as the piano, would arise if each

hand were treated independently, or if contrapuntal lines were present in a single hand

or part. The situation could arise where the performer is forced to read from the score in

two different places simultaneously. Although further restrictions could be added,

requiring both hands to remain together 'vertically' on the score, this would limit the

freedom of the method in a way that seems contrary to the spirit of it. A similar situation

may arise if chords or contrapuntal lines are written in a single part. If these were not

treated as a 'single' note, the performer could omit one note of the chord and proceed

directly to the next note whilst playing the others. Again, this could require the

performer to read from the same score at two different places simultaneously. Of course,

to counter this, the note contraction method could be applied to both hands, so that they

always progress at the same rate. This may also be a practical necessity if the score

indicates some sort of chord, for example, a double stop on the violin. A possible

solution might be to require all notes of a chord to be omitted before the player can

27

proceed onto the next note in the piece. While a performer may appreciate these sorts of

restrictions, this in effect turns all of the piece's independent lines into a single linear

block. If each line were assigned to an individual part instead, then it is unlikely that all

the parts would remain absolutely in unison throughout, so in effect, the piece becomes

a restricted example of note contraction. In theory at least, it would seem that for

instruments like the piano, note omission rather than note contraction is a simpler and

more effective means of achieving a composition that is independent of its performance.

There are no upper or lower limits placed on note omission, shortening or contraction,

as the extent of their application may vary throughout the piece, as governed by each

performer's interpretation. However, the overall effect of note omission, shortening and

contraction should serve to realise the potential within a composition, rather than just

being applied haphazardly with no regard for formal implications. As these methods

remove material from the original score, in comparison to other forms of indeterminacy,

the subtractive processes involved may be seen as self-defeating. In order for these

techniques to be musically justified, they must serve to highlight relationships in the

original score that would not be as easily detected if the piece were played as written.

Each of the author's compositions discussed in this thesis has been composed with the

expectation that the performers will apply the procedures in this manner, as indicated in

the scores.

The desired intention of these techniques is similar to Feldman's Intersection 3, as in

both cases, performers need to utilise them in a convincing, rather than arbitrary,

stylistic manner. However, the author's approach differs from Feldman's, as the intention

to remove material to highlight areas of the piece is clearly articulated and the melodic

and rhythmic basis that the performer chooses from is also fixed. In contrast, the

performer of Intersection 3 chooses the relative notes and rhythms in a manner that fits

with Feldman's style, without any supporting guidelines.

It needs to be noted that Cage has experimented with similar techniques to the author's

in some of his works that are based wholly on pre-existing material, including

Apartment House 1776. This work was written for the United States Bicentennial

celebrations, and draws musical material from a number of vocal, orchestral and drum

fragments that were contemporary to the Declaration of Independence. However, Cage

28

used these methods in order to transform existing four part choral music. He first tried

and rejected the possibility of using chance to determine how many lines were to be

heard in each measure (both with and without the option of having zero voices singing

in a measure), in effect subtracting material from the original in a similar way to note

omission. Cage then used chance procedures to determine how the duration of notes (or

rests that could replace them) were prolonged past their written value, overwriting the

notes that would otherwise have been there in the original score67

. This process shares

similarities with note contraction, in that the number of notes heard in the piece are

reduced – however in Apartment House 1776, the rhythmic durations are extended and

the total length of the segment remains fixed. On the other hand, with note contraction,

the written rhythmic values are retained, but only some of the notes are played, resulting

in a shorter piece. Another key difference is Cage's use of chance to generate the work

from existing material, making Apartment House 1776 an example of chance music,

whereas in the author's compositions, that role is given to the performer, making them

indeterminate compositions. Most importantly, Cage's Apartment House 1776 is all

derived from pre-existing musical material generated via chance procedures, whereas

the author's compositions involve performers removing material from newly-composed,

determinate scores. Therefore, although both methods remove material from a piece,

Cage's approach in Apartment House 1776 has little in common with the author's

methodology in note omission, shortening and contraction.

In the author's compositions, there is no specification that the indeterminate procedures

should be applied spontaneously. This avoids the dilemma that arises in works such as

Klavierstuck XI, where, as described in Chapter 2, there is a conflict between a 'forced'

spontaneous performance and the determinate score. Because of this, the author lets the

performer decide whether to apply these indeterminate techniques spontaneously,

determine them prior to the performance or use a combination of both, as any of these

approaches may lead to a successful outcome.

Both the Boulez and Stockhausen examples discussed in Chapter 2 suggest that varying

the order of certain segments or allowing for their omission entirely, is a relatively

conservative approach to indeterminacy, because the composer still retains considerable

67 James Pritchett, The Music of John Cage (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 3.

29

control over the material heard. This is comparable to the author's methods, although the

author's techniques lead to more 'indeterminate' pieces than the Boulez and Stockhausen

examples. Although there are multiple ways of realising the potential of different

passages with note omission, shortening and contraction, any use of these techniques

requires the original composition's structure to be preserved. This limits the extent to

which omission, shortening and contraction can make a composition 'indeterminate', as

their application still needs to realise the composition's potential. There is however the

remote possibility that two performances of a work using note omission (or shortening

and contraction) may have no notes in common, which could also occur in Klavierstuck

XI, if there were no shared fragments between different performances. Although this

would make the performances indeterminate of each other, for both pieces, any

realisation would still be a subset of the original score and would still also be

indeterminate of the source material.

In the following compositions, note omission, shortening and contraction are employed

on otherwise 'determinate', conventionally notated scores. Only one technique can be

used at a single time, as indicated on each composition's score. Since note shortening

completely encompasses the technique of note omission, these two procedures cannot

be combined. If note omission and contraction, or if note shortening and contraction

were utilised simultaneously, the distinction between the methods may be lost. The

author also hypothesises that the combination of note omission, shortening and

contraction with other indeterminate methods may lead to situations where the effects

could be realised in a simpler format. While these three techniques could also be

combined with variations in pitch or structure, such a discussion is beyond the scope of

this thesis.

Although the author's compositions using note omission, shortening and contraction are

written as determinate scores from which it is intended that material be removed, if a

performer or performers choose not to apply these techniques, they are in effect making

the score for that performance into a completely determinate composition. By refusing

to engage with the composition's instructions, the piece's potential is not realised. As

compositions using these three indeterminate techniques are designed around their

employment, a performance will be 'worse' if it fails to exploit them. Compositions

using these techniques are in effect the opposite of pieces like Cage's Music of Changes,

30

which, as described earlier, was composed by chance procedures but remains essentially

determinate in performance. The contrapositive of this statement, that pieces not

generated by chance (i.e. conventionally determinate compositions) can be

indeterminate in performance, expresses what the author is seeking to explore in his

compositions. As a result, performances that fail to apply these indeterminate

procedures cannot be considered valid interpretations.

In all three original compositions discussed in this thesis, the techniques of note

omission, shortening and contraction have been applied to regular and frequently

repetitious rhythms. This has been done for two primary reasons, the first of which is to

enable to effects of these techniques to be perceived. If irregular meters and rhythms

were used, then it may not be clear to the audience if and how note omission, shortening

and contraction were being employed, whereas if the performers are given a repetitive

pattern to which these techniques are being applied, the resulting effects can be

perceived as stemming from the original process. Additionally, practical considerations

were also taken into account, as note contraction in particular poses difficult rhythmic

challenges to performers, who cannot rely on a fixed beat or use other performers as a

reference. The use of relatively simple rhythms which are based on equal subdivisions

of a beat, will enable performers, with some practice, to perform these passages

perfectly in time.

Piece for Large Chamber Ensemble

Piece for Large Chamber Ensemble is scored for piccolo, oboe, alto saxophone,

contrabassoon, trumpet, tuba, snare drum, vibraphone, violin, cello and double bass. In

general, the more material and/or density a piece has, the less noticeable each

application of omission, shortening or contraction will be. In this eleven instrument

ensemble, at least two instruments from each family were chosen, as well as some

auxiliary woodwinds. This allows for every instrument's part to be distinguished

timbrally from the others, which ensures that each omission will have an audible effect

on the piece. The eleven instruments chosen encompass an extremely wide tessitura,

allowing for a greater degree of separation in how the notes are arranged, further

ensuring that every note can be perceived independently. Piece for Large Chamber

Ensemble uses only note omission, so the composition is able to best display how the

31

presence of certain notes and instruments at any given moment may change the timbre,

density and texture. To ensure that the vertical alignment of the parts was maintained

throughout, note contraction was not used. Note shortening was also avoided as

executing this technique on the snare drum is problematic since differences in note

lengths cannot be realised effectively. In Piece for Large Chamber Ensemble, the

performers are instructed to omit notes from the written score, independently of the

other performers, to highlight or emphasise features of the piece. The performers, either

collectively, or as individuals, need to use their own judgement to decide upon which

notes they should omit.

Piece for Large Chamber Ensemble uses serialism of pitch as the composition's

structural basis. As serialism provides a logic behind the arrangement of notes, it allows

for note omission to affect the piece's foundation. If notes are omitted from a row, then

subsets will be heard instead of the complete row, allowing the performers to highlight

these fragments in a variety of ways. The number of different potential combinations of

notes is restricted, by limiting the number of variations of the main row used to three (in

addition to P(0), I(0), R(0) and RI(0)), which enables the intervallic relationships

between each of the four rows to be distinguished clearly.

Not every section of Piece for Large Chamber Ensemble utilises the note row. Besides

the introduction (bars 1-18), and two extended interludes (bars 96-109 and 126-139),

there are a few short solo instrumental melodic fragments (such as bars 172-174), which

only use a segment of the note row. The primary function of the introduction and longer

interludes is to highlight the contrasts between note omission in a general atonal context

and note omission in a limited serial (atonal) context. Note omission also creates variety

within each shorter segment and helps disrupt the piece's regular formal structure. As an

example, consider the vibraphone solo heard in bars 191-193. In this interlude, a one

beat vibraphone ostinato is repeated 12 times. Due to the lack of melody, this interlude

creates expectations about whether melodic fragments are being omitted in other parts.

It also contrasts with the 'serious' mood of most of the composition, by providing 'banal'

relief.

The use of note omission will affect the rhythms in the section between bars 111-123. In

this section, every instrumental entry begins at the start of the beat, and is exactly one

32

beat long, with four or more notes being played per beat. This creates a constant

backdrop through which holes are 'punched' via note omission. Variations will be

created within the regular rhythms of each one-beat fragment, while the compositional

structure ensures that the individual fragments passing from instrument to instrument

can be heard. Melodically, this also allows each performer to decide which notes of the

row subset to play and highlight, and which to omit. This example demonstrates that

there are many ways of achieving a variety of effects through the omission of certain

notes, whilst maintaining the overall structural integrity of this section.

Note omission will also disrupt the linear presentation of the note rows, by breaking the

sequence of the twelve notes contained in each row. This will remove certain intervallic

combinations within and between the rows, allowing for contrast between the remaining

notes and silence. This results in a greater melodic emphasis on individual notes and

short sequences of intervals.

From bars 34-52 note omission will have a noticeable effect on the timbre. Each of the

five melodic lines are played by two or three instruments at the same pitch, (with the

exception of the snare drum/vibraphone pairing, which is only rhythmic) and same

dynamic level, with one of the instruments on each part having added grace notes. If

shared notes are omitted by one of the paired instruments, the timbre will change,

whereas if shared notes are omitted from both parts, the melodic line's row structure will

be disrupted. Furthermore, the omission or retention of the added grace notes will not

disrupt the legato melodic line (as a grace note has no rhythmic value in the written

score), but will alter the number of unique notes that an instrument plays. The use of

note omission in this passage is clearly justifiable, as it gives the performers a variety of

possibilities when realising this effect.

Between bars 160-171, the melodic lines played by the alto saxophone and oboe

combine two note rows – from 161-165, R0 and I0, and from 166-170, P0 and RI0. In

this passage, note omission in the melodic lines will change the interactions between the

two note rows, by removing potential intervallic combinations, and disrupting the linear

presentation of rows between the parts. In the accompaniment, note omission can

disrupt the presentation of P0 in the strings, by removing some of the notes from the

repeated chords, for example, the first six notes of RI0 in the vibraphone line, or

33

rhythmically, by disrupting the snare drum ostinato. In all of these sections, what is

important is the omission of notes from the row within a traditional

melody/accompaniment section, and how these omissions will alter the interval

relationships. Although this outcome can be achieved in many ways, it should be noted

that the passage's potential will not be realised if the performers choose not to omit

notes. Instead of limiting the result to a fixed, determinate score, the author believes

note omission gives performers a variety of options to realise and highlight various

passages in their lines.

Piece for Large Chamber Ensemble reveals the potential pitfalls in scoring for large

chamber ensembles when using note omission. Although additional parts give the

performers more flexibility and freedom to omit notes, the compositional flexibility of a

piece is curtailed by practical difficulties. As the above musical examples from Piece for

Large Chamber Ensemble indicate, for note omission to be a viable technique, the

composition needs to be structured so that the decision to play or omit any note will

audibly change the piece's musical content. It follows then that when a composition

using note omission is scored for an even larger ensemble, such as a full orchestra, there

may be better and/or simpler ways of achieving similar effects using alternative forms

of indeterminacy. It is however beyond the scope of the thesis to consider the

implications of ensemble size for note omission, shortening and contraction in detail.

What can be said is that note omission appears to be more effective in works written for

solo performers or small chamber ensembles.

Lots of Pieces for String Quartet

Lots of Pieces for String Quartet uses all three techniques (note omission, shortening

and contraction), in a sequence of fifteen short pieces for string quartet, joined to form

the overall composition. This work demonstrates the diversity of note omission,

shortening and contraction as each piece is designed to exploit a single technique. As

the following analysis demonstrates, without the application of note omission,

shortening and contraction, the work would not be as successful, and it would not

succeed with an excessive usage of the techniques that obscures each piece's potential.

Each piece is compositionally built around a single idea, with the melodies, harmonies

and rhythms being composed to best support that. This creates large contrasts between

34

the individual pieces through the juxtapositions of modal/atonal and regular/irregular

rhythmic passages. The parts are vertically aligned on the overall score, and the

conclusion of each piece is marked by a double barline. Each piece begins only when all

performers have finished the previous one, which enables note contraction to be utilised

effectively in the composition. If there were no breaks between each piece, the

performers could be playing at different tempi and be in different pieces simultaneously,

which would result in musical structural problems and would increase the risk of

technical errors.

It was decided to utilise all three techniques in Lots of Pieces for String Quartet to allow

for a greater range of expression. Note shortening is well suited to string instruments,

while note omission is viable for any instrument. Note contraction allows for time

displacements between each player's part, in an ensemble small enough to rehearse this

technique effectively and realise it in performance. As each piece is short, and built

compositionally around relatively simple melodic, rhythmic and/or dynamic ideas, the

use of only one technique in each piece enables the effects they have on the work to be

clearly realised by each performer, and perceived by the audience.

In one piece from bars 165-178, glissandi are used throughout and are combined with

note shortening. As noted in the score's preface, note shortening only subtracts value

from the end of a note, hence a shortened glissando will only cover part of the written

range. With this use of note shortening, the essential characteristics of the glissandi in

this piece are maintained. However, note shortening also allows for variety in the

individual range and lengths of each glissando, the contrast of glissandi and silences

within each line and the counterpoint between the parts.

Another piece, from bars 193-204, employs note contraction and gives all four

instruments an identical part. As well as allowing for slight changes in timbre and

instrumental balance (which could also be provided by note omission or shortening),

contraction allows for the performers to proceed through the piece with different

selections of notes, resulting in them being out of synchronisation with each other on

identical parts. Similar effects have been utilised by other composers, such as Peter

Sculthorpe's gagaku-inspired technique of fuori di passo, which he describes as 'In the

rain-forest music of Mangrove (1979), the cellos, marked fuori di passo, play the

35

Japanese melody, Ise-no-umi, out-of-step with each other.'68

Note contraction allows for

variations between and within identical lines, having them operating independently

rather than dependently of each other, creating the potential for many heterophonic

possibilities from a single determinate melody.

A similar approach using note contraction can be seen in the piece from bars 135-164,

where the second violin and cello parts double each other at the octave. The use of

contraction in this piece will change the vertical alignment of the parts relative to each

other, creating a canonic effect. Although the performers may not necessarily play all of

the same notes, this effect should still be perceptible. This contrasts with the constant

rhythmic background of the first violin and viola lines. As all the rhythmic values in

these two parts are identical throughout the piece, the rhythms will be the same

regardless of the notes that the performer chooses to contract, and because of this, the

hemiola between the two pairs of lines will be present throughout. This piece shows two

different facets of note contraction – the contrast between the fixed rhythmic hemiola

juxtaposed against a quasi-canonic, variable melody, that allow for varied realisations

within a relatively uniform texture.

To show the contrasts between note shortening and contraction, the piece first heard

between bars 205-219 is repeated at bars 240-254. Interspersed between these sections

is a contrasting 'B' section from bars 220-239, that uses note shortening with double

stops throughout for all four instruments. In this section, as indicated in the score, note

shortening is applied independently to each string, allowing for the double stops to be of

different lengths, creating further potential for rhythmic variety within and between

each instrument.

The first time the piece is heard at bars 205-219, note shortening is used, whereas at

bars 240-254 this is changed to note contraction. Thus the listener can obtain an idea of

how the lines relate to each other vertically, before hearing the piece with contraction,

where the vertical alignment of the parts will be skewed by the choices the performers

make. When heard with note shortening, each part will sound relatively disjunct because

of the large leaps present in each part. However, with note contraction, each player is

68 Peter Sculthorpe, Sun Music (Sydney: ABC Books, 1999), 79.

36

able to smooth out the contour and tessitura of their parts, by contracting notes that

would otherwise create a large leap. Because of the continual leaps between high and

low notes, the application of note contraction is likely to make each part more conjunct,

as there is an increased chance of juxtaposing more notes in a single register. However,

this unity is likely to be offset by the skewed vertical alignments that result from note

contraction, which will affect the relative lengths of each part and further desynchronise

the rhythms, as well as the slight tonal suggestions present in the original melodies and

harmonies.

Piece 2 for Solo Cello

Piece 2 for Solo Cello combines the techniques of note omission, shortening and

contraction in a single work. Compared to Lots of Pieces for String Quartet and Piece

for Large Chamber Ensemble, the solo context allows for greater flexibility on the

performer's part. For this reason, the work is able to explore all three techniques within

a more diverse formal structure combined with variations in tempi. The following

analysis concentrates on three sections of the piece in order to highlight how omission,

shortening and contraction gives the cellist interpretative flexibility, while maintaining

the essential characteristics of the composition.

The piece is built from a large number of musical ideas, joined together into a

continuous, single movement. Unlike Lots of Pieces for String Quartet, where the

instruments can only proceed to the next piece once all performers have finished the

preceding one, Piece 2 for Solo Cello allows frequent and smooth changes in tempo to

be executed by a single performer. Piece 2 for Solo Cello is built from a number of pitch

centres and small cells of notes and rhythms that develop gradually and evolve to form

the basis of the rhythms, melodies and resulting harmonies. This provides the cellist

with a framework that helps ensure that even after the application of note omission,

shortening and contraction, most realisations will retain a degree of rhythmic, melodic

and harmonic unity both within and between segments.

The opening six bars of the piece are built from a slowly evolving rhythmic and melodic

ostinato fragment, and employ note omission and note contraction in a manner that aims

to contrast the two techniques. From the sixth note of bar 5 (A) to the second note of bar

37

6 (Ab), the use of note omission will result in silences. This contrasts with the earlier

contraction section that began the work, where all realisations will result in a constant

stream of notes without any interspersed rests. If note omission were not applied here,

then this contrast would not be evident, negating the musical effect of this passage.

The use of contrasts can also be seen in bar 9, where the C and the resulting rest created

by note shortening will always last for four beats, in contrast to the surrounding sections

from bars 6-8 and bars 10-14 that use note contraction. Although the relative ratio of

sound to silence can be changed by performers, the note's function in the piece is to

interrupt the consistent rhythmic flow of the adjacent passages. Regardless of how

performers play this note, the sound will affect the surrounding texture. Note shortening

provides a simple way for this effect to be realised in multiple ways.

Note contraction can potentially make a piece more difficult or even unperformable if

the new juxtaposition of notes creates or adds to the existing technical problems. One

example would be through the creation of an extremely fast large leap that would not

otherwise be present in the written score. To avoid these sorts of possibilities, the

sections of Piece 2 for Solo Cello that utilise note contraction such as bars 151-169 have

a restricted tessitura, so that all possible combinations of notes can theoretically be

realised by the cellist. This point also applies for all applications of note omission,

shortening or contraction in the two compositions discussed previously. Performers

need to use their own discretion in order to create a piece that can be effectively realised

in performance without any technical errors. This is similar to the procedure Xenakis

uses in Evyrali. By writing a work that is, in places, impossible to play as written, he

ensures that 'note omission' must occur in performance. In both cases, the performers

must create a realisation that lies within the limits of their technique. This is also similar

to the approach that Ferneyhough takes in some of his compositions. Although

Ferneyhough is not regarded as an indeterminate composer, he forces performers to

make compromises in order to play his compositions in a manner very similar to that

used by Xenakis in Evyrali. Process-wise, this is linked closely to the author's

compositional methods. However, in the author's compositions the intent differs – the

performers remove material from pieces to realise specific effects instead of out of

necessity.

Comment [FAHSS UWA1]: Can’t guarantee this if left to performer discretion

38

In Piece 2 for Solo Cello, what is important is the general musical effect. As this can be

realised in many ways by the cellist, there is no need to write the work as a fixed,

determinate score, which can only provide one example of a broad concept. The

flexibility created by note omission, shortening and contraction allows for variations

between different performances, and also enables the cellist to participate in a limited

way in the compositional process. By giving the performer a greater role, they are better

able to shape their own realisations of the piece. As the notes and rhythms are fixed, and

provide a superset of possibilities for a performance, it follows that note omission,

shortening and contraction are a means for the subset of sounds heard within the piece

to exist within an overall framework. The general principles of this idea are also

applicable to Piece for Large Chamber Ensemble and Lots of Pieces for String Quartet.

However, unlike Earle Brown's 4 Systems, where each performance is close to an

original work in its own right, in Piece 2 for Solo Cello, even if two performances were

to use completely different selections of notes from each other, what is heard would

always be a subset of the original score. Hence, each performance cannot be considered

a separate composition.

Piece 2 for Solo Cello attempts to extend the procedures found in the earlier two works.

The added flexibility provided by the solo context allows for continual structure and

tempo changes throughout the piece. Note omission, shortening and contraction are able

to exist in a unified work, instead of as individual moments within a series of short

pieces. The solo context does, however, limit the scope of each method, as the cellist

needs to maintain the overall structure of the composition whilst still employing these

techniques. Every note omitted or shortened in a solo piece will always result in a

silence, which differs from the variety of timbral possibilities that can be created in an

ensemble work. In general terms, this limits the amount the performer can omit or

shorten whilst still realising the piece's potential. It follows that when note omission,

shortening and contraction are all incorporated into a single piece, the composition

should utilise structural techniques and effects that cannot be easily achieved in an

ensemble to offset the potential lack of timbral variety.

Ideological Implications

In establishing the parameters of indeterminate compositions, it becomes evident that

39

pieces composed with note omission, shortening and contraction have different

ideological implications to conventional determinate works. The traditional

relationships between composer, performer, and audience will all be altered. In

indeterminate compositions, the interest is created by which notes the performer lets the

audience hear, rather than the expectation of just hearing a 'good' performance of a

fixed, known score. However, one of the fundamental premises of indeterminacy is

accepting any outcome. Adorno writes that “experimental music should not just confine

itself to refusing to deal in the current coin; it should also be music whose end cannot be

foreseen in the course of production. In genuine experiments there has always been

something of a surplus of that objectivity of the production process.”69 Seen in this

light, the performance of an indeterminate composition is no different to hearing a

determinate composition for the first time, as in both cases, the performance can only be

judged on what is heard. Cage's thoughts in Indeterminacy are similar. When discussing

in general terms the nature of compositions that are indeterminate in performance, he

mentions “that [indeterminate] composition is necessarily experimental. An

experimental action is one the outcome of which is not foreseen. Being unforeseen, this

action is not concerned with its excuse.”70 By this, Cage suggests that the resultant

outcome of an indeterminate event does not need an 'excuse', and instead needs to be

'accepted', in effect by not favouring one outcome over another. However in Cage's own

music, performers found that when interpreting his graphic notations, “the composer

demanded extraordinary discipline of them, being intolerant of cliches and notoriously

difficult to please.”71

This illustrates the difficulty in closing the ‘gap’ between the

composer’s specific intentions and the broader, more 'open' instructions they have

included on the score. In the author's works, this contradiction has been avoided by a

preceding statement which clarifies for the performers that any interpretation that

engages with the piece and utilises the techniques to highlight the potential of each

section is correct. Although the idea of 'potential' is a vague directive, the open nature of

the term allows performers to decide how to use the overall determinate composition to

form their own unique interpretation.

From the perspective of a performer, the author's compositional methods seem to 69 Adorno, Quasi Una Fantasia - Essays on Modern Music, 303. 70 Cage, Silence, 39. 71 Richard Taruskin, Music in the Late Twentieth Century (New York: Oxford University Press, 2005),

96.

Comment [FAHSS UWA2]: But, the limitations are foreseen by the composer and accepted

Comment [FAHSS UWA3]: Therefore, any outcome is NOT acceptable …

40

provide partial authorship. In addition to interpretation, the performer is allowed to

create a version of a score that helps to reveal the piece's potential. However, as there

are no restrictions placed overtly on the method, it is open to certain seemingly

unacceptable outcomes. For example, every note in a composition could be omitted.

This approach would be extremely problematic as it completely negates the original

composition. Such a performance of 'silence' could be undertaken independently of the

composition and its methodology, raising the question of whether it could be considered

as a representative performance. Although this process may seem analogous to Cage's

4'33”, the intent behind this piece and one from which notes have been removed is very

different. 4'33” is a silent work, to which sounds from external sources are added, as

opposed to a determinate composition from which all the notated sounds remain

unplayed. In this sense, a 'silent' performance of a piece utilising these compositional

techniques is not ideologically equivalent to a performance of 4'33”, and hence cannot

be justified by Cage's precedent.

This leads to the question of whether or not there should be some direct limitations on

how many notes the performer may be allowed to omit, shorten or contract. To avoid

interpretations where large portions of a composition are left unplayed, one possibility

would be to instruct the performers to only omit a certain percentage of notes, or a

certain number of notes on each page. This solution would be very effective for

electronic versions of the compositions where it is possible to program a computer to

only play a certain percentage of notes, or to hold them for a certain rhythmic value.

However, this approach would likely force a human performer to prepare the selection

of note omissions in advance and would restrict the spontaneity with which the work

can be interpreted in performance. That being said, a spontaneous performance of a

composition is neither more nor less desirable. In the author's opinion, it is best to give

the performer complete freedom to choose how many notes to play, entrusting them

with responsibility of producing a 'good' interpretation that remains sensitive to the

intent of the original score. This is the approach used in all three compositions that are

discussed in this thesis. As these indeterminate methods were created with the idea of

allowing for the potential of a composition to be highlighted, the preferred option is to

leave the performer to select from the broad range of possibilities suggested by this

open term.

41

Another option is to instruct the performer(s) in exactly how to approach each section of

the piece, by including some or all of the following: giving a description of the desired

effect of note omission, shortening or contraction in a passage; describing how it is to be

achieved; or dictating how much material is to be removed. However, the author finds

these alternatives undesirable, and has chosen not to utilise them. Providing a possible

solution to the performers, or even giving suggestions or opinions, negates the potential

for the performers to find their own approach. As they will also be very familiar with

the composition, both as a piece and on how it works in practice on their own

instrument, their original ideas may differ from the composer's suggestions, and could

be equally valid or even superior. Providing guidance may hamper or limit the potential

for creative input from the performer, which is another reason why the author has left

the performers with an open set of directions.

An example of this can be seen in the earlier extract from bars 193-204 in Lots of Pieces

for String Quartet. Despite the previous suggestion of creating a polyphonic texture

from a single, identical melodic line, this is not the only option available to the

performers. There is no reason why the line has to be played by four instruments, and

even if only one instrument plays some notes, the resulting monophonic line would not

be 'incorrect', as it could provide a good contrast with the surrounding music. If no

performers chose to play this piece, contracting all of the notes, they can proceed

straight to the next piece. This solution cannot be considered as 'incorrect', as it changes

the order of the movements and structure of the composition, and does not invalidate the

musical material of the adjacent pieces. In effect, this solution would produce a similar

result to a performance of Klavierstuck XI if the performer chooses not to play one of

the fragments. In Lots of Pieces for String Quartet, there is the potential for an extreme

range of 'acceptable' outcomes available to the performers because there is no clear limit

at which to draw a boundary, nor are there reasons to do so. Because of this, the author

has decided that it is more logical to give the performers freedom within the parameters

of omission, shortening and contraction to achieve an outcome that emphasises the

composition's potential, instead of guiding them towards specific interpretations via

instructions.

If the basic principle of these methods is accepted – that the selection of notes the

performer chooses should realise a composition's potential, then the author believes the

42

best means of realising this aim is to allow the performer to decide how to approach the

piece. However, this could also be interpreted as a decision by the composer to abdicate

responsibility for what is heard. As the performers take sole responsibility over what to

play and omit, their decisions help generate the relative quality of the realisation (as

judged by the listeners) to a greater extent than that found in music of the common

practice period, which consequently determines the overall 'success' of the composition

in a conventional sense. This issue becomes even more important if a composition using

these techniques is to be recorded. Above and beyond a performance, a recording stands

as a permanent testament to a given interpretation of a piece. Because omission,

shortening and contraction give a much wider degree of interpretative freedom to the

performer (compared to music of the common practice period), the degree to which any

recording is representative of the composition is reduced. While one could offer

multiple recordings of a composition on the same CD, each using a different selection

of notes, this would still only cover a very small range of the composition's

interpretative possibilities. This poses the question of whose work is being listened to –

the composer's or the performer's 'composition'. However, every recording of the piece

can primarily still be considered the work of the composer rather than a co-composition

or collaboration between composer and performer. This is because any realisation that

the performer provides is bound up within the notes and rhythms of the original

composition. The composer has specified a composition's maximal outcome and hence

maintains control over all possible realisations of a piece, although as each application

of omission, shortening or contraction occurs independently, the outcome cannot be

'foreseen' in the same way as it can in works like Stockhausen's Klavierstuck XI. In

short, a composition using note omission, shortening or contraction exists more as a

piece for the performers, rather than the audience, who are limited to the realisations

that the performer provides.

The original compositions discussed in this chapter do not detail all of the implications

of indeterminate composition by note omission, shortening and contraction. However,

the three pieces do exhibit a reasonably wide variety of styles and give a sense of what

is possible with these methods. While omission, shortening and contraction have some

obvious strengths, in terms of creating a unique performance from simple instructions,

this use of indeterminacy also reduces the composer's authority. As the performer takes

on a position of greater responsibility, they also become more responsible for the

43

'success' or 'failure' of the music, as well as for its structural features. Although the

composer is not necessarily aiming to delegate all responsibility to the performer, they

are given the freedom to realise the composition's potential which may directly affect all

of a composition's major elements. This gives the performer a greater role in creating a

unique realisation, albeit one within the composition's stylistic boundaries.

44

Conclusion

This thesis has examined a number of compositions that are independent of their

performances, from both standard indeterminate repertoire and the author's original

works. This raises the question as to how these methods can be evaluated. Are the

techniques of indeterminate composition by note omission, note shortening, and note

contraction just an attempt at innovation for its own sake?

When a composer chooses to utilise indeterminate techniques in a composition, the

evaluation of their traditional 'role' and that of the performers can only be made on a

piece by piece, composer by composer basis. However, the common theme that

underscores all these compositions remains the same: the composer has less control

over the final result. Although note omission, shortening and contraction all aim to

realise the potential within a composition, it is left for the performer to decide how to do

this, or even to decide what part of a score's potential to realise. Paradoxically, although

the performer assumes a part of the composer's role in this genre of music, they can

never literally become the composer as they always interpret an 'original' score, unless

they take on the roles of performer and composer simultaneously. Although the

performer's role in a piece using note omission, shortening or contraction involves more

active input than a traditional determinate composition, their decisions need to consider

why the composer has utilised this method. As a starting point, they should come to an

interpretation that works for, rather than against the method. Likewise, with earlier

indeterminate compositions from the standard repertoire that require performers to

determine and fix elements of a work within parameters, the final result should flow as

a logical outcome of the potential created by that method, not from the superimposition

of an existing, known determinate idea upon an indeterminate score. Returning to the

question posed in the previous paragraph regarding the musical value of these methods,

the responsibility for making the author's techniques more than mere innovation lies

with the performers. In order to present a successful performance of the three pieces

discussed in this thesis, the performers must remove material from passages to introduce

variety to the regular melodic and rhythmic ostinati. The pieces were composed to

utilise a new method of indeterminacy, and without a performance that seeks to express

the 'new', these methods will not fully succeed.

45

Although the techniques and approach to performance used in established indeterminate

repertoire differ from the author's ideals, all of the compositions discussed give the

performer a greater degree of creative freedom, and to a varying degree, allow the

performers to become co-composers. All indeterminate compositions alter the dynamics

of the traditional relationship between the composer, performer and audience. It is clear

that compositions that are indeterminate in performance give performers greater

freedom in their realisation. It follows logically that the composer has less responsibility

over the outcome of the piece and the performer to some extent becomes a co-composer.

These changes also serve to undermine the traditional ideas of performance practice, as

there may not necessarily be a fixed score to be interpreted. Instead, performance

practice may be more to do with the selection of notes, rather than their interpretation

(although this will still be an important factor). Traditional ideas of ensemble and

rehearsals are also subverted, as the performers are unable to take cues from each other,

and can only rely on their individual parts.

In the author's works however, this 'subversion' is only partial, as the idea of an

ensemble in the traditional sense is still operational. Although the configuration of notes

between parts is not guaranteed, the framework of the piece is, ensuring that ensemble

considerations such as dynamic balance retain importance. The rehearsal procedure is

also important. While the players are unable to take cues from each other in a

conventional sense, the determinate framework of the composition ensures that the

players need to be coordinated with each other in order for their parts to be rhythmically

and dynamically balanced. In the same way that note omission, shortening and

contraction take a 'familiar' determinate score and give performers rights to perform

'unfamiliar' actions to it, during the rehearsal process players need to be aware of the

other parts, and not only focused on their own performance.

What note omission, shortening and contraction represent to the author is a fusion of the

best elements of 'conservative' and 'radical' indeterminacy, whilst avoiding the

shortcomings of each. In comparison to more conservative indeterminate compositions

such as Stockhausen's Klavierstuck XI and Boulez's Third Piano Sonata, these three

techniques allow for greater performer input and a wider variety of possible realisations.

Although both the 'conservative' approach and the author's approach give the performer

a fixed outline of notes to work from, the author's method offers additional flexibility

46

and variety to the performer, as decisions are made on every note, instead of on larger

sections. The conservative approaches to indeterminacy discussed in this thesis

primarily give the performer flexibility within sections of material, as each decision

made determines how all the subsequent notes within a section or fragment are to be

performed. Although the length of sections, number of decisions made and the amount

of variability each decision creates differ between examples of pieces written with this

approach, the idea that each decision will fix the next series of notes a performer will

play is generally true. This is in contrast to the author's methods, where decisions are

made on every note, increasing both the number of possible outcomes and the influence

that performer choice may have on the composition.

In more 'radical' indeterminacy, performers often have to determine at least one major

element of a composition within very loose parameters, as seen in works like Feldman's

Intersection 3 and Earle Brown's 4 Systems. In many cases, these involve leaving at

least one or more of the most important elements of a musical sound (pitch, rhythm,

timbre and dynamics) largely indeterminate, thus allowing for a wealth of harmonic,

melodic and rhythmic possibilities, many of which may suggest a musical style that

cannot be identified as the composer's. The author specifies all of these in elements of

his compositions with determinate notation, which ensures that any outcomes that result

will have a unity to them that may not be present in some of the more radical

indeterminate scores. This avoids the situation in radical indeterminacy where

performers have to deal with abstract outlines to produce an interpretation that fits with

the composer's style. Although both the 'radical' approach and the author's methods rely

on performers to produce an interpretation within the 'style' of the original composition,

the author feels that by providing a determinate score from which material is removed

instead of a highly indeterminate score, there is a greater chance of ending up with a

'successful' interpretation. In addition, the author believes that this radical approach

often provides performers with far more freedom than is necessary to produce a work

within the composer's style.

Ultimately, to decide whether or not an 'interpretative ideal' or 'successful' interpretation

exists is impossible. By its very nature, this ideal is a subjective judgement without a

single answer, and can only be considered in terms of generalisations. All that can be

offered is an exploration of possibilities for creating 'compositions that are

47

indeterminate of their performances'. Whatever motives individual composers may have

for adopting indeterminate methods, all of their methods represent a continuing search

for innovation. If nothing else, compositions that are independent of their performance

open up a range of possibilities that cannot be achieved in conventional performance.

For this reason alone, these methods are justified, regardless of whether their

application succeeds or fails in individual pieces. Although any piece using the author's

techniques relies on the performer's abilities to make intelligent interpretative decisions

within the parameters of note omission, shortening and contraction, the attempt to

combine the perceived strengths of the 'conservative' and 'radical' philosophies has

created an original method of indeterminacy.

48

Bibliography Composer References: Bernstein, David W., Christopher Hatch (ed.), Writings Through John Cage’s Music, Poetry and Art, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2001. Bland, William and David Patterson, ‘Wolff, Christian’, Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy, <http://www.grovemusic.com> (Accessed 9 June 2008). Boros, James and Richard Toop (eds.), Brian Ferneyhough: Collected Writings, Amsterdam: Harwood Academic Publishers, 1995. Boulez, Pierre and John Cage (ed. Jean-Jacques Nattiez), The Boulez-Cage Correspondence, (trans. Robert Samuels), Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993. Boulez, Pierre, Pierre Boulez: Conversations with Célestin Deliège, (trans. Ernst Eulenburg Ltd., Norfolk: Caligraving, 1976. Boulez, Pierre (ed. Christian Bourgois), Orientations, (trans. Martin Cooper), London: Faber and Faber Limited, 1986. Boulez, Pierre, Stocktakings from an Apprenticeship, (trans. Stephen Walsh), New York: Oxford University Press, 1991. Breatnach, Mary, Boulez and Mallarmé: A Study in Poetic Influence, Aldershot: Scolar Press, 1996. Brent, Jonathan and Peter Gena, A John Cage Reader: In Celebration of His 70th

Birthday, New York: Peters, 1982.

Brown, Earle, 'The Notation and Performance of New Music', The Music Quarterly Vol. 72 No. 2 (1986), 180-201. Brown, Earle, 'Transformations and Developments of a Radical Aesthetic', Current Musicology 67/68, (Fall 1999), 39-57. Cage John, A Year from Monday: New Lectures and Writings, Middletown: Wesleyan University Press, 1967. Cage, John, Anarchy: New York City–January 1998, Middletown: Wesleyan University Press, 2001. Cage, John, Empty Words; Writings ’73–’78, Middletown: Wesleyan University Press, 1979. Cage, John, M: writings '67-'72, London: Marion Boyars, 1998. Cage, John, Silence: Lectures and Writings, London: Calder and Boyers, Ltd., 1961.

49

Cage, John, X; Writings ’79–’82, Middletown: Wesleyan University Press, 1983. Cardew, Cornelius (ed.), Scratch Music, Latimer New Dimensions Ltd.: London, 1972. Chase, Stephen and Clemens Glesser, 'Ordinary Matters: Christian Wolff on his Recent Music', Tempo - A Quarterly Review of Modern Music 58:229 (July 2004), 19-27. Childs, Barney and Elliott Schwartz (eds.), Contemporary Composers on Contemporary Music, New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1967. Couroux, Marc, ‘Evryali and the Exploding of the Interface: From Virtuosity to Anti-Virtuosity and Beyond’, Contemporary Music Review 21:2-3 (2002), 53-67. De Tugny, Rosângela Pereira, ‘Spectre et série dans le Klavierstück XI de Karlheinz Stockhausen’, Revue de musicologie, T. 85e, No. 1er (1999), 119-137. Dickinson, Peter (ed.), Cage Talk – Dialogues With and About John Cage, Rochester: University of Rochester Press, 2006. Eggebrecht, Hans Heinrich (trans. Jeffrey L. Prater), J. S. Bach's The Art of Fugue: The Work and its Interpretation, Iowa: Iowa State University Press, 1993. Feldman, Morton (ed. B. H. Friedman), Give My Regards to Eighth Street: Collected Writings of Morton Feldman, Cambridge: Exact Change, 2000. Ford, Andrew, Composer to Composer: Conversations about Contemporary Music, Sydney: Hale & Iremonger Pty Ltd, 1993. Fux, Johann Joseph, (trans., ed. Alfred Mann), The Study of Counterpoint from Johann Joseph Fux's Gradus ad Parnassum, London: J. M. Dent & Sons, 1965. Glock, William (ed.), Pierre Boulez: A Symposium, Ernst Eulenberg: London, 1986. Harley, James, Xenakis – His Life in Music, New York: Routledge, 2004. Haskins, Rob, ‘“An Anarchic Society of Sounds”: The Number Pieces of John Cage’, PhD diss., Eastman School of Music, University of Rochester, 2004. Hill, Peter, ‘Xenakis and the Performer’, Tempo, New Series, No. 112 (March 1975), 17-22. Hill, Peter, ‘Letter to the Editor’, Tempo, New Series, No. 116 (Dec. 1975), 53-54. Hoffman, Peter, ‘Xenakis, Iannis’, Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy, <http://www.grovemusic.com> (Accessed 18 June 2008). Howard, Philip, ‘"Evryali": Beyond the Surface (What I Learned from "Evryali" by Performing It)’, Perspectives of New Music Vol 42, No. 2 (Summer 2004), 144-157.

50

Iddon, Martin, 'Gained in Translation: Words about Cage in Late 1950s Germany', Contemporary Music Review 26:1 (2007), 89-104. Jameux, Dominique, Pierre Boulez, (trans. Susan Bradshaw), London: Faber and Faber, 1991. Johnson, Steven, ‘Feldman, Morton’, Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy, <http://www.grovemusic.com> (Accessed 15 February 2008). Junkerman, Charlies and Marjorie Perloff, John Cage: Composed in America, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1994. Kostelanetz, Richard, Conversing With Cage, New York: Limelight Editions, 1988. Kostelanetz, Richard (ed.), John Cage, New York: Praeger Publishers, 1970. Kostelanetz, Richard (ed.), Writings About John Cage, Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 1993. Kuhn, Laura and James Pritchett, ‘Cage, John’, Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy, <http://www.grovemusic.com> (Accessed 15 February 2008). Maconie, Robin, Other Planets: The Music of Karlheinz Stockhausen, Lanham: Scarecrow Press, 2005. Matossian, Nouritza, Xenakis, New York: Taplinger Publishing Co., 1986. Mead, Rita, Henry Cowell’s New Music 1925-1936: the Society, the Music Editions and the Recordings, Ann Arbor, Mich : UMI Research Press, 1981. Miller, Leta E., ‘Henry Cowell and John Cage: Intersections and Influences, 1933-1941', Journal of the American Musicological Society 59:1 (Spring 2006), 47-111, 234. Nicholls, David, ‘Brown, Earle’, Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy, <http://www.grovemusic.com> (Accessed 9 June 2008). Nicholls, David (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to John Cage, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. Patterson, David, 'Cage and Beyond: An Annotated Interview with Christian Wolff', Perspectives of New Music 32:2 (1994), 54-87. Potter, Keith., 'Earle Brown in Context', The Musical Times Vol. 127 No. 1726 (Dec., 1986), 679-683. Pritchett, James, ‘The Development of Chance Techniques in the Music of John Cage’, PhD diss., New York University, 1988. Pritchett, James, The Music of John Cage, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993.

51

Retallack, Joan (ed.), Musicage: Cage Muses on Words, Art and Music, Hanover: University Press of New England, 1996. Revill, David, The Roaring Silence: John Cage: A Life, London: Bloomsbury Publishing Limited, 1992. Rivest, Johanne, ‘Le "Concert for Piano and Orchestra" de John Cage, ou les limites de l'indétermination’, PhD diss., Université de Montréal, 1996. Sculthorpe, Peter, Sun Music, Sydney: ABC Books, 1999. Stacey, Peter F., Boulez and the Modern Concept, Aldershot: Scolar Press, 1987. Stockhausen, Karlheinz, '... wie die Zeit vergeht …', Die Reihe 3 (1957): 13-42. Trans. by Cornelius Cardew as '... How Time Passes ...', English ed. of Die Reihe 3 (1959): 10–40. Stockhausen, Karlheinz, Texte zu Eigenen Werken zur Kunst Anderer Aktuelles, Köln: Verlag M. DuMont Schauberg,1964. Stockhausen, Karlheinz, Texte zur Elektronischen und Instrumentalen Musik, Köln: Verlag M. DuMont Schauberg,1963. Takahashi, Yuki, ‘Letter to the Editor’, Tempo Vol. 115 (1975), 53-54. Toop, Richard, ‘Ferneyhough, Brian’, Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy, <http://www.grovemusic.com> (Accessed 9 June 2008). Toop, Richard, ‘Stockhausen, Karlheinz’, Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy, <http://www.grovemusic.com> (Accessed 9 June 2008). Truelove, Stephen, ‘The Translation of Rhythm into Pitch in Stockhausen’s “Klavierstück XI”’, Perspectives of New Music Vol. 36, No. 1 (Winter 1998), 189-220. Ulman, Erik, ‘The Music of Sylvano Bussotti’, Perspectives of New Music Vol. 34, No. 2 (Summer 1996), 186-201. Varga, Bálint András, Conversations with Iannis Xenakis, London: Faber and Faber, 1996. Walker, Alan, Franz Liszt: Volume Two, The Weimar Years, 1848-1861, London: Faber and Faber, 1989. Wolff, Christian, 'On Form', Die Reihe Vol. 7 'Form―Space' (1964), 26-31. Xenakis, Iannis, ‘Tutorial Article: Determinacy and Indeterminacy’, Organised Sound 1:3 (December 1996), 143-155. Xenakis, Iannis, Formalized Music: Thought and Mathematics in Composition,

52

Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1971. General References: Adorno, Theodor W. (ed. J.M. Bernstein), The Culture Industry, London: Routledge, 1991. Adorno, Theodor W. (trans. Rodney Livingstone), Quasi Una Fantasia – Essays on Modern Music, London: Verso, 1992. Allan, Robert (ed.), The Penguin English Dictionary, Third Edition, London: Penguin Books, 2007. Behrman, David and Henri Pousseur, ‘The Question of Order in New Music’, Perspectives of New Music, Vol. 5, No. 1 (Autumn – Winter, 1966), 93-111. Behrman, David, ‘What Indeterminate Notation Determines’, Perspectives of New Music, Vol. 3, No. 2 (Spring – Summer, 1965), 58-73. Berger, Karol and Anthony Newcomb (eds.), Music and the Aesthetics of Modernity, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2005. Blass, Joseph Herring, ‘Indeterminacy as a Factor in Scientific Attitudes and Artistic Attitudes of the Twentieth Century’, PhD diss., Florida State University, 1968. Boretz, Benjamin and Cone, Edward T. (ed.), Perspectives on Notation and Performance, New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1976. Christensen, Thomas (ed.), The Cambridge History of Western Music Theory, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. Cope, David H., New Directions in Music, Fourth Edition, Dubuque: Wm. C. Brown Publishers, 1984. Eco, Umberto, The Open Work, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1989. Feisst, Sabine M., 'Der Begriff “Improvisation” in der neuen Musik', PhD diss., Freie Universität Berlin, 1995. Gann, Kyle, American Music in the Twentieth Century, New York: Schirmer Books, 1997. Godfrey, David and Elliott Schwartz, Music Since 1945: Issues, Materials, and Literature, New York: Schirmer Books, 1993. Griffiths, Paul, A Concise History of Modern Music: From Debussy to Boulez, London: Thames and Hudson, 1978. Griffiths, Paul, Modern Music and After: Directions Since 1945, New York: Oxford University Press, 1995.

53

Griffiths, Paul, 'Aleatory', Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy, <http://www.grovemusic.com> (Accessed 15 February 2008). Hasty, Christopher F., Meter as Rhythm, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997. Jeppesen, Knud, The Style of Palestrina and the Dissonance, London: Oxford University Press, 1946. Karolyi, Otto, Modern American Music: from Charles Ives to the Minimalists, London: Cygnus Arts, 1996. Kramer, Johnathan D., The Time of Music: New Meanings, New Temporalities, New Listening Strategies, New York: Schirmer Books, 1988. Nyman, Michael, Experimental Music: Cage and Beyond, London: Studio Vista, 1974, repr. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999. Potter, Gary Morton, ‘The Role of Chance in Contemporary Music’, PhD diss., Indiana University, 1971. Reynolds, Roger, ‘Indeterminacy: Some Considerations’, Perspectives of New Music Vol. 4, No. 1 (Autumn – Winter, 1965), 136-140. Rich, Alan, American Pioneers: Ives to Cage and Beyond, London: Phaidon Press Limited, 1995. Stone, Kurt, Music Notation in the 20th Century: a Practical Guidebook, New York: W. W. Norton, 1980. Taruskin, Richard, The Oxford History of Western Music, Volume 5, New York: Oxford University Press, 2005. Watkins, Glenn, Soundings: Music in the Twentieth Century, New York: Schirmer Books, 1988. Whittall, Arnold, Exploring Twentieth-Century Music: Tradition and Innovation, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2003. Williams, Alastair, New Music and the Claims of Modernity, Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing Limited, 1997. Websites: The Earle Brown Music Foundation

2009, Rye, Accessed 31 October 2009, <http://www.earle-brown.org/index.php>.

Karlheinz Stockhausen Official Website – Stockhausen.org 2009, Kürten, Accessed 31 October 2009, <http://www.stockhausen.org/>.

54

Appendix 1

Piece for Large Chamber Ensemble Performance Notes

Piece for Large Chamber Ensemble uses note omission throughout, in which performers

may remove notes from their part, and replace them with a rest of an equivalent value.

The performers may remove as many or as few notes as they desire. However, the use

of note omission must serve to highlight potential in the overall piece that would not

otherwise be present if the score were played as written. In this sense, the score does not

necessarily represent an ideal performance, but rather a superset of possibilities. During

rehearsal and performance, the players may make their decisions dependently or

independently of each other as they desire. In general terms, although there is no single

correct way of approaching Piece for Large Chamber Ensemble, performers still need to

use their stylistic and artistic judgement when choosing which notes to omit.

In Piece for Large Chamber Ensemble, the double bar lines represent the compositions'

structure; however, the performers must maintain a constant tempo both within and

when moving between sections.

55

Appendix 2

Lots of Pieces for String Quartet Performance Notes

Lots of Pieces for String Quartet uses note omission, in which performers may remove

notes from their part, and replace them with a rest of an equivalent value, note

shortening, in which performers may shorten the duration of a note by subtracting some

or all of the value from the end of the note, and replacing this space with silence, and

note contraction, where the performers may remove a note from a piece, and proceed as

if that note did not exist in the score. The performers may apply these procedures to as

many or as few notes as they desire. However, the use of note omission must serve to

highlight potential in the overall piece that would not otherwise be present if the score

were played as written. In this sense, the score does not necessarily represent an ideal

performance, but rather a superset of possibilities. During rehearsal and performance,

the players may make their decisions dependently or independently of each other as

they desire. In general terms, although there is no single correct way of approaching

Lots of Pieces for String Quartet, performers still need to use their stylistic and artistic

judgement when choosing which notes to omit.

In Lots of Pieces for String Quartet, the double bar lines represent the compositions'

structure. There should be an audible break between pieces, and the next piece can only

be begun once all performers have finished the previous piece.

56

Appendix 3

Piece 2 for Solo Cello Performance Notes

Piece 2 for Solo Cello uses note omission, in which performers may remove notes from

their part, and replace them with a rest of an equivalent value, note shortening, in which

performers may shorten the duration of a note by subtracting some or all of the value

from the end of the note, and replacing this space with silence, and note contraction,

where the performers may remove a note from a piece, and proceed as if that note did

not exist in the score. The performers may apply these procedures to as many or as few

notes as they desire. However, the use of note omission, note shortening and note

contraction must serve to highlight potential in the overall piece that would not

otherwise be present if the score were played as written. In this sense, the score does not

necessarily represent an ideal performance, but rather a superset of possibilities. During

rehearsal and performance, the cellist may pre-prepare or spontaneously interpret the

score as they desire. In general terms, although there is no single correct way of

approaching Piece 2 for Solo Cello, performers still need to use their stylistic and

artistic judgement when choosing which notes to omit.

Copyright © 2010

Violoncello

pp

q=80

Vc.

5

Vc.

cresc.

10

Vc.

mp

q=12015

Vc.

18

Vc.

22

Vc.

27

Vc.

31

Vc.

35

Vc.

f

q=10039

Vc.

ppp cresc. fff

50

Contraction

Piece 2 for Solo CelloKit Buckley

March 3, 2010 - Jan 23, 2011

Omission Contraction Shortening

Contraction

Omission

Contraction Omission

ContractionOmission

Contraction Omission

Shortening

Omission ShorteningOmission

Vc.

f mf

q=13261

Vc.

dim. p mp

67

Vc.

f

71

Vc.

75

Vc.

ppfff dim.

q=132

79

Vc.

p ff dim. pp

83

Vc.

fdim.

ppp

88

Vc.

91

Vc.

93

Vc.

cresc. f mp

96

Vc.

p

q.=8099

Vc.

107

Contraction

Shortening Contraction

Omission Shortening

Omission

Shortening

Omission

Shortening

Omission Shortening Omission

Contraction

Omission

Contraction

2

Vc.

pp

q=80114

Vc.

122

Vc.

128

Vc.

135

Vc.

141

Vc.

f

q._q_q=72 (e=504)147

Vc.

152

Vc.

157

Vc.

162

Vc.

q=120167

Vc.

172

Shortening

3

Contraction

Omission

Shortening Omission

3 3:2e

Contraction

Omission Contraction

Omission

Contraction pizz.

arcoOmission

pizz.

arco

3

Vc.

q=96

176

Vc.

181

Vc.

185

Vc.

q=60189

Vc.

196

Vc.

pp

203

Vc.

211

Vc.

p

q=80

217

Vc.

mp

q=72221

Vc.

f

q=80

230

Shortening

Omission

Shortening Omission Shortening Omission

Shortening

gliss.

gliss.

Omission Contraction

Omission Contraction Shortening

gliss.

gliss.

Omission Contraction

Omission

sul pont.arco

sul tasto sul pont.

Shortening

sul tastoarco

sul pont. sul tasto

Omission

arco

4

Vc.

dim.

237

Vc.

ppp mp

q=96240

Vc.

243

Vc.

f dim.

248

Vc.

p

253

Vc.

mp

q=80258

Vc.

mpp

e=80

265

Vc.

mp

273

Vc.

280

Vc.

287

Accel.

5

6 6 6 5

Shortening

6

6

Omission

6 6

6 7

Shortening

Omissionpizz. arco pizz. arco

pizz. arco pizz.

arco

pizz. arco

pizz.

arcopizz.

5

Vc.

ff

q=144293

Vc.

295

Vc.

297

Vc.

299

Vc.

f dim. mp

q=72e=176

302

Vc.

dim.

311

Vc.

ppp cresc. fff p

q=60q=72320

Vc.

326

arco

Contraction

Shortening

Omission Shortening

Omission, Shortening or Contraction

6

Violin I

Violin II

Viola

Violoncello

p

q=132 - Note omission

mf

p

mf

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

3

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

6

Lots of Pieces for String QuartetKit Buckley

February 5 2010 - February 22 2011

5 5 3

5

5

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

9

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

11

cresc.

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Vla.

Vc.

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13

mp

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5

5

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5

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2

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cresc. mf

15

f

cresc. mf

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f

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

mf

18

p

p

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

21

p

5 3

q=96 - Note shortening

5

3 5

3

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

24

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

27

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

31

4

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

34

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

mp

q=60 - Note contraction39

mp

mp

mp

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

pp

q.=144 - Note omission45

pp

pp

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

51

pp

4

4

5

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

57

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

63

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

68

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

73

4

6

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

79

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

mp

q=132 - Note omission85

mp

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

89

mp

mp

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

92

7

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

95

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

98

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

101

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

105

8

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

mf

q=100 - Note omission108

mf

mf

mf

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

111

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

114

pizz.

3

pizz.

pizz.

3

pizz.

3 3

3

3

3

3

3

3 3 3 33

3

3 3

3

5

3

3

33

3

9

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Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

pp

q=88 - Note shortening

117

pp

pp

pp

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

125

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

p

h.=60 - Note contraction134

mf

p

mf

4:3q

mute, sul tasto

mute, sul tasto3:2e

mute, sul tasto

mute, sul tasto

unmute, arco

99 9 9

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Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

139

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

144

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

149

9 9

9 9 9

9 9

9

9 9

9 9

99

9

11

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

154

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

159

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

mp

q=80 - Note shortening164

mf

p cresc.

f dim. p

9 9 9 9 9

9

99

9 9

3

gliss.gliss. gliss.9

gliss. gliss. gliss.

gliss. gliss. gliss. gliss. gliss.

gliss. gliss. gliss.

12

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

dim. pp p

168

dim. p cresc. mf

mf cresc.f

cresc.f dim.

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

cresc.

f dim.ppp

172

p cresc. mp dim. pp

pp cresc. mf dim. p

ppp cresc.

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

f p pp p mf

q=96 - Note shortening177

pp ff dim. pp mp cresc. ff p cresc.

mf f ff mf

mp pp cresc. ff p fpf dim.

gliss. gliss.

gliss.gliss.

3

gliss. gliss. gliss. gliss.

gliss. gliss. gliss. gliss.

gliss. gliss. 3

gliss.

gliss. 3gliss.

gliss. gliss. 3gliss. gliss.

gliss.

gliss.gliss. gliss. gliss. gliss. gliss.

gliss.

3gliss.

gliss. gliss. gliss.

gliss. gliss. gliss. gliss. 3gliss.

gliss. gliss. gliss. gliss. gliss.

3

gliss.

13

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

pp dim. ppppp fp dim. pp mp dim. ppppp ff dim.

183

fff f p pp f dim. p

mf f ff dim. ppppp

mppp dim. ppppp ff

p mp fffp mp mf

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

pp f ppp cresc. ff mp cresc. fffffsempre p

q=80 - Note contraction189

p ff dim. ppp sempre p

mp fff dim.ppppp sempre p

f dim. mp pp sempre p

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

194

3 3

3

3

3

3

3

3

3

14

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

198

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

mp

q=70 - Note shortening202

mp

mp

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

206

mp

15

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

210

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

214

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

f

q=88217

f

f

f

3

3 5

Note shortening applied independently to each string

5

5

5

55

4

16

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

223

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

231

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

mf

q=70240

mf

mf

mf

Note contraction (only applies to notes, not rests, which retain their full value)

17

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

244

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

248

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

p

q=72 - Note shortening252

p

p

p

3

3 5

5

5

5

55

4

18

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

256

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

pp

261

pp

pp

pp

Vln. I

Vln. II

Vla.

Vc.

265

19

Piccolo

Oboe

Alto Saxophone

Contrabassoon

Trumpet in C

Tuba

Snare Drum

Vibraphone

Violin

Violoncello

Double Bass

mp

q=100

Apply Note Omission throughout the piece

mp

mpmp

mfmp

mp p

pmp

f mf mp

mpq=100

Apply Note Omission throughout the piece

mp

mfp

3

Piece for Large Chamber EnsembleKit Buckley

Feb 2, 2010 - Apr 17, 2010

5

5

3

3

3

5

3 3

3 3

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

mf mp

5

mfmp

mp p

mp

mf p

mf

f

f ff pp mp

f mp

fmp

mp mp p

mpmf

3

5

3 3

3

3

3

3

2

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

mp p subito p f

10

mp mp mp

mp p

mp p

mpmf

mp mp f

mf

mp mp mf

mp p

mp p

mf fmp

3

3

3

3

3

3

3

3

3

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

ff fff fff

15

ff fff

ff

fffff

f fff

f

ff

pp cresc. fff pp ppp

fff fff

f p

p

f ff fff pp

4

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

p pp p

21

fp p pp p

mp dim. ppp mp pp

mpp

mp

p

mp pp

mf pp

p mp

mp mp

mp

3 3

3 3

3 3

3 3 3

3

5

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

mp

29

mp

pp p

ppp

pp p

p

p

p

p

ppp mp

ppp mp

ppp p

3

3

6

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

mf

36

mf

mf

mp

mf

mp

mp sempre mf

mpsempre mf

mf

mf

mp

3

3

3

3

7

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

mf p

43

mf p pp

mf mp

mpp

mf mp

mpp

mf p

mf p

mp p

3

3

3

3

8

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

pp

51

pp

pp

pp

pp

pp

p

pp

pp

pp

pp

3

3

3

3

9

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

58

3

3

10

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

fff f ppp

65

mf p pp

ff mp

f ff fff

mf mp

pff

f fff

mp

f mp

mppp

p mf mp

3

3

11

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

mp fff ff

72

ff mf f

mf ff

ff f

f fff

ppmp

p

ff p

mf pp ppp

fff fmp ff

mp mf

ppp pp ff

3

12

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

fff

79

f

mf

pp

pppmp mp

mpf

mp

mp fff ppp fffff mp

mp

ppp mp

fff mp

mf mf mp

3 3

5

3:2e

13

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

mp

86

mp

mp

mp

3 3

3 3 3 3

3 3 3 3

3 3

5

14

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

subito fff

91

subito fff ppp cresc.

subito fff

Picc.

Ob.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

96

f

f

f

ff

f

f

3 3

3

3

3

5 5 5 5

5

3

5 6

5 6

15

Picc.

Alto Sax.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vc.

Db.

f

100

f

f

f

f

Picc.

Ob.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

ff

104

f

f

fff

f

ff

6 7

5

6

3

3 3 3 5

5

5

3 3

3

16

Picc.

Cbsn.

Tba.

S. D.

Db.

108

fff dim. ppp subito fff mf

mf

fff mf

mf

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

mf

112

mf

mf

mf

mf

mf

mf

3

17

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

115

18

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

118

5

5

19

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

121

5

5

5

6

5 5

20

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

mp

124

mp

mp

mf

mp

ff

p

mp

mp

mp

mp

3

3

21

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

130

fmf

fmf fff

3 3

3

3

22

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

C Tpt.

Tba.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

pp

138

pp

mp

mp

f

p

mf

p

mf

3 3

3

23

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

pp

146

pp

pp

ff

pp

f ppp

f

pp

f

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

Vln. 1

Db.

153

f ff

pp

ppsubito f

ppff

3

3

pizz.

3

3

3

arco

3

24

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

158

mp

mp

pp

pp

pp

pp

pp

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

ff

165

mf

mf

ppp

ppp

ppp

ppp

ppp

3

3 33

3

3

3 3 3 3 3 3 5

3

5:4q

25

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

f

173

f

f

f

f

fff mp

f

f

f

f

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

179

ff

26

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

186

p

Picc.

C Tpt.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

192

f

mp

mf

mf

mf

3

3 3 3

5 5 5 5

pizz. arco

pizz. arco

pizz.

arco

27

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

f

196

f

ff

f

Picc.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

f

199

3

3

3

3 3

3

3

3

5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5

3 3

3 3 3

3

3

3 3

3

3

3 3 3

3 3

5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5

3 3 3 3

28

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

202

Picc.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

ppp

205

ppp

fffppp

ppp

ppp

ppp

ppp

3

3 3 3

3

3

3 3 3

5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5

3

3 3

6

6

3 3 3

5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 3

3

3

5

29

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

209

ppp

ppp

ppp

ppp

3 3 3

6

6

3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3

3 3

5 5 5 5 5

30

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

212

3 3

6 6 6

3 3 3 3

3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3

5 5

31

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

215

3 3

6

6

6

6

3 3 3 3 3 3

3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3

5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5

32

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Vc.

Db.

218

ppp cresc.

3 3

6 6 6

3 3 3

3 3 3 3

5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5

33

Picc.

Ob.

Cbsn.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vln. 1

Db.

fff

221

fff

fff

fff

fff

pppp ffff

fff

fff

fff

Picc.

Ob.

Alto Sax.

C Tpt.

Tba.

S. D.

Vib.

Vc.

Db.

226

fff

fff

fff

fff

fff

ffffff molto dim. pppppp

3

3

gliss. gliss. 3

3 3 3 3 3

3

34