Acoustics & Music Theory
why it sounds like that
Concept

Notation — where it appears

The written system that records pitches and durations as marks on a staff. It keeps distinctions the sound has lost, such as the difference between a major third and a diminished fourth, and loses distinctions the sound keeps.

Named by 34 essays across 9 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.

How much swing there is, against how fast the music goes. The ratio of the long note to the short note of a swung pair, as a function of tempo, derived from the finding that the short note holds a roughly constant hundred milliseconds. The notated readings are horizontal lines, and each is correct at exactly one tempo. Above about three hundred beats a minute the ratio reaches one and the swing has gone.

Swing is a ratio, and it is not two to one

Swung quavers are notated as a triplet figure, which is a ratio of two to one. Measurements of what drummers actually play give anything from three and a half to one down to one to one, and which of those it is depends almost entirely on the tempo.

rhythm · Microtiming Three metres as trees. Three metres — 4/4, 2 + 2 + 2 + 2; 6/8, 3 + 3; 5/8, 3 + 2 — each drawn as the bar dividing into beats and the beats dividing again. Simple and compound metres have the same number of beats and differ in the second division; an additive metre has beats of unequal length, which no single division produces.

Beats of unequal length

A bar of nine in Balkan practice is not nine of anything. It is four beats, three short and one long, and the inequality is at the beat level rather than inside it — which is a thing no single division of a bar can produce.

rhythm · Additive metre Where the beats actually fall. Measured timing deviations from a strict grid, in milliseconds, for three published profiles. The right-hand column converts each deviation into the note value it would have to be written as, at three tempi — and because a fixed number of milliseconds is a different fraction of the beat at every tempo, no single notated rhythm describes any of these.

The milliseconds that are the groove

A Viennese orchestra plays the second beat of a waltz about fifty milliseconds early, every bar. A jazz soloist sits thirty behind the ride cymbal. Neither deviation can be notated, and not because notation is coarse — because it measures the wrong quantity.

rhythm · Microtiming thirty-two-bar AABA, every bar against every other bar. A self-similarity matrix of 32 bars of thirty-two-bar AABA. Each cell is the cosine similarity of two bars' pitch-class vectors, with the chord's own notes weighted 1 and the rest of the key 0.5. Similarity is quantised into four bands for drawing and anything under 0.35 is left as paper. Nothing in the computation knows what a section is; the blocks and stripes are what the arithmetic returns.

A piece is mostly itself again

Take a piece of music, encode each bar as the notes sounding in it, and compare every bar with every other bar. The picture that comes out has blocks and stripes in it, and those blocks and stripes are the form — arrived at by arithmetic that has never heard of an exposition, a chorus or a refrain.

form · Repetition Redundancy in bits, and why the number needs a length beside it. Left: the LZ78 cost of each scheme divided by the cost of sending the same symbols flat, against how many bars are sent, with each bar coded as its chord and key. Every scheme is above 1 at a single chorus — the coder loses — and every one falls under it as the piece runs. Right: new dictionary phrases per bar at one chorus, which is the statistic that survives at short lengths.

How much of this is new

Repetition can be counted rather than looked at. Feed a piece's bars to a compressor and the bits it needs are a measure of how much of the piece is a repeat of an earlier part of itself. The measurement works, the number is real, and it turns out to be a statement about the description rather than about the music — which is the most useful thing it has to say.

form · Repetition A phrase is a number of seconds, and the bars follow the tempo. Phrase durations for 1, 2, 4, 8, 16-bar phrases at seven tempos, on a logarithmic seconds axis, with the 2 to 8 second window shaded. The window is a property of the listener and does not move; which bar count falls inside it is decided entirely by the tempo.

A phrase is a number of seconds

Musical phrases are described in bars, and four is the number everybody names. But the constraint that fixes a phrase is a property of the listener and is measured in seconds, so the bar count is whatever the tempo makes it. Across seven ordinary tempos the bar count that lands inside the window moves by a factor of eight, while the window itself does not move at all.

form · Phrase A silence measured in two ways that were not chosen to agree. How far a carried beat drifts during a silence, in fractions of a beat, for beat periods of 200 ms, 550 ms, 2000 ms and a tempo estimate 5 per cent wrong — which is the published discrimination limen rather than a figure chosen here. Half a beat of drift is where the metre coming out of the silence is no longer the one that went in, and it is reached after 10 beats whatever the tempo, which is 2.0 seconds at 200 ms, 5.5 seconds at 550 ms, 20.0 seconds at 2000 ms. The shaded band is the psychological present, 2 to 8 seconds, measured by a completely different literature and used in this collection to bound a phrase. The two answers overlap: a silence under about 2 seconds is a rest inside something and one over about 5.5 is after it.

A silence long enough to be an ending

Four of the five closure components are present or absent. Silence is the one with a continuous scale, so it is the one that can be given a threshold — and the threshold arrives from two literatures that were not chosen to agree, landing between three and a half and five and a half seconds. In a large hall, the room's own decay uses up most of it.

form · Closure The chain of fifths in quarter-comma meantone. The fifths laid end to end as the chain they are. The bar under each shows how far that fifth departs from a pure three-to-two, and one of them — G♯ to D♯, the 12th link, where the chain is forced to close — is the wolf, at 35.7 cents.

The same distance, under two names

Four hundred cents is a major third or a diminished fourth, and on a keyboard nothing in the sound distinguishes them. An earlier essay was about the boundary between two categories; this is about two categories at one acoustic value, and the surprise is where the ambiguity comes from. In quarter-comma meantone a major third is 386 cents and a diminished fourth is 427 — two names, two pitches, forty-one cents apart. Equal temperament collapsed them, and what a listener now supplies from context used to be in the sound.

intervals · Categorical-hearing The chain the page counts on. Every way of writing a pitch with up to one accidental, laid out along the chain of fifths and grouped by the pitch class each one sounds as. The vertical axis is what a keyboard has and the horizontal axis is what the page has: the spellings of one pitch class are seven steps of a fifth apart, which is exactly the distance a comma is measured over. Notation did not choose an arbitrary redundancy; it kept the coordinate a tuning system is built in, and equal temperament is the projection that loses it.

The stave is not a ruler

A hundred and eighty essays here draw pitch against an axis somebody computed. The one axis every reader already owns is the five lines, and it is not a pitch axis at all: it counts letters. Seven positions carry twelve pitches, so the same vertical distance is two intervals before an accidental is allowed and six after — and the accidental is not an extra symbol on a complete scale but the repair for a scale with five values missing.

scales · Notation Where the two spellings meet, and where they cross. G♯ minus A♭ against the fraction of a comma each fifth is narrowed by — twelve fifths against seven octaves, and nothing else in the calculation. In Pythagorean tuning G♯ is 23.46 cents ABOVE A♭; in quarter-comma meantone it is 41.06 cents BELOW it; the two spellings coincide at 0.09090 of a comma, which is what equal temperament is. A page that distinguishes the two names is exact in every tuning on this line except one point on it, and at that point it is wrong by 0.0014 cents rather than by nothing, because one eleventh is not quite the crossing.

Two names for one key

A keyboard has one key between G and A and the page has two names for it. That looks like redundancy and it is not: the two names are twelve fifths apart on a chain, and in every tuning anybody played before the nineteenth century they are two different pitches. The size of the difference is twelve fifths against seven octaves and nothing else — twenty-three cents one way in Pythagorean, forty-one the other way in meantone, and zero at exactly one point in between.

tuning · Notation One pattern, four metres. The same 12-step onset pattern read under 3 candidate metres, each scored by a preference rule set: 3 for a strong position that carries an onset, -2 for one that does not, -1 for an onset that lands off every strong position. The scores are 3/4 -4, 6/8 12, 2/4 -4, so 6/8 wins. The page prints 3/4, which the model does not prefer — it ranks 6/8 above it. Nothing about the sound differs between these readings; the bar line is supplied by the listener.

The time signature is a claim

A bar line is not a measurement. It is a claim about where the accents are, made before the sound exists, and there is a metre-induction model here that can be handed the same onsets and asked whether it agrees. On a hemiola it does not: the page says three and the model says six, by a margin of twelve against minus four. And on a bar of seven the signature is not even a candidate — what decides the reading is the beaming, which the signature does not contain.

rhythm · Notation A dynamic mark is an instruction about the spectrum. Six dynamic markings, given a hammer velocity each in a stated sequence of factors of two, with what the string then does. The level rises 35.1 decibels from pp to ff, which is the part everybody means. The contact time falls from 2.26 to 0.95 milliseconds, so the first null of the hammer's own pulse moves from partial 2.5 to partial 6.0 and the spectral centroid rises by 56 per cent. The partials between those two nulls are not quieter at pp; they are not there.

The mark that is not a level

There are six of them, they carry no units, and a performer has to turn one into a number before it means anything. What they instruct is not loudness. On a struck string a harder blow shortens the hammer's contact from 2.26 milliseconds to 0.95, which moves the first null of its own pulse from the third partial to the sixth: the partials between those are not quieter at pianissimo, they are gone. A fortissimo is a different sound, and the page has one word for both things it changes.

timbre · Notation C4, in every place it can be played. A guitar neck with the 4 places C4 can be stopped, drawn at the fret spacing a 64.8-centimetre scale actually has. The stave writes one note and the tablature writes one of these; each notation says exactly what the other leaves out. The speaking lengths run from 61.2 down to 27.2 centimetres, so a hand plucking 12 centimetres from the bridge meets between 20 and 44 per cent of the string.

What a tablature keeps

Middle C can be stopped in four places on a guitar. The speaking lengths run from 61 to 27 centimetres, so a hand plucking twelve centimetres from the bridge meets between a fifth and nearly a half of the string, and the comb of missing partials is different at every one: the second partial is thirteen decibels stronger in the best position than in the worst. A stave writes one note for all four. A tablature writes four different things and cannot say which note any of them is.

instruments · Notation What one progression leaves open. Realisations of I–IV–V–I in four parts with no parallel fifths or parallel octaves, counted exactly by a dynamic programme over the voicings rather than sampled. The chord symbols admit 16,100,352,296; the Roman numerals 59,418,496; the figured bass 2,042,672. The three notations differ by four orders of magnitude, and every one of them was in daily professional use.

Three notations, one progression

A figured bass, a Roman numeral and a chord symbol are three professional notations for the same four chords, and the number of four-part realisations each of them admits can be counted exactly rather than argued about. With no parallel fifths or octaves the counts are sixteen billion, fifty-nine million and two million: a factor of eight thousand between the loosest and the tightest. What each one collapses is what its tradition thought a chord was, and the three do not agree.

harmony · Notation Where the page ends a phrase, and where the ear does. Twinkle, twinkle with two sets of phrase boundaries on it. The lower curve is a local boundary detector — a peak in how much the interval and the note length change from one to the next, with nothing in it about bar lines or harmony — and the marks above it are where the notation puts the phrase ends. It finds 100 per cent of them and 2 boundaries the page does not have. Where the two agree it is because a long note is sitting at the join; where they disagree the page is marking a grammatical unit and the detector is finding a perceptual one.

Where a phrase ends

Run a boundary detector over the three tunes used throughout and it agrees with the notated phrasing on one of them perfectly and on another almost not at all. The reason is which cue each tune uses: Twinkle's phrases all end on a long note, so a duration-weighted detector finds five of five with no false alarms; Ode to Joy's run on in crotchets and its phrasing is in the intervals, where a duration detector finds one of three and a pitch detector finds all three and eight others. No fixed weighting serves both, and the published one is worse on each tune than the single cue that tune uses.

form · Phrase The staff holds 11 positions and nothing fits in it. Each clef's eleven staff positions — five lines, four spaces and the space either side — as a bar on an axis that counts letters, with eight ranges laid underneath. The clefs step through the axis in thirds and cover fifteen positions of offset between them. Every range drawn is wider than eleven positions: the four voices span 13, 12, 13, 13 and the four instruments 24, 24, 25, 23, so the best clef for each still leaves 1 to 7 positions off the staff. A clef is a choice of which end sticks out.

The clef is an integer

The first essay on notation found that the staff's vertical axis counts letters rather than pitch, and named the clef as a question it was leaving open. Paid, it is arithmetic: a staff holds eleven letters, no voice or instrument is that narrow, and the eight clefs of European practice step through the axis in thirds — a spacing that buys everything a set of fifteen would buy on a wide range, for eight.

scales · Notation The boundaries that survive each amount of smoothing. The local boundary strengths of Twinkle, twinkle read at every scale: the curve is smoothed with a Gaussian of the width on the horizontal axis and the peaks that survive are counted. Small scales give 11 boundaries and large ones give one, and the notation marks 5. The level with that many falls at a width of 2, where the model finds 100 per cent of the notated boundaries and 100 per cent of what it finds is notated — a comparison with no threshold in it, which is what the scale parameter buys.

A boundary at a stated level

A boundary detector run over three tunes agreed with the notation on one and barely at all on another, and left two things owing: a version with a scale parameter, and a version run on performance timings. Both are paid here, and they pay differently — the scale removes a free parameter from the comparison and does not rescue the hard case, while two per cent of rubato does.

form · Phrase What eleven positions cover, at seven to the octave and at twelve. A clef's 11 positions, read as a range, in three systems. At seven positions to the octave they cover 1.57 octaves — an octave and a fourth, which is the seventh rung's own number. At twelve they cover 0.92. Writing a 44-semitone range then takes 3 staves and about 15 ledger positions on the staff, and 4 staves and 33 on a chromatic one. The accidentals a chromatic staff removes are paid for in vertical space, at a rate the two integers fix.

The notations invented for the overflow

Every proposal to replace the staff since the seventeenth century is a response to a specific overflow, and the commonest one — a chromatic staff with twelve positions per octave instead of seven — makes a trade computable from the same two integers the clef essay counted. It buys the accidentals outright and pays 40 per cent of the range, three ledger positions for one, and twenty-three enharmonic distinctions that are not merely absent from the page but unrecoverable.

scales · Notation What the engraver used here gives a note, measured off the page. The horizontal distance VexFlow allots each duration, read back off a formatted system rather than quoted from a manual. It is not a power of the duration: it is a constant of 58 points plus 15 points a crotchet, and the constant is 93 per cent of the width the shortest note here gets. A note four times as long as another is about 2 times as wide, not four. The floor is the notehead, its stem, its accidental and the space a reader needs to see them as separate events — which is a claim about legibility and not about time at all.

The axis that is not a time axis

Eight earlier essays have measured the staff's vertical axis to a position. Its horizontal one has never been asked about, and the answer is that it is proportional to nothing: measured off the typesetter used here, a note gets 58 points before its duration is considered at all and 15 points a crotchet after — so the constant is 93 per cent of what the shortest note gets, and a note four times as long is not four times as wide.

scales · Notation How much music each notation fits on a page. The two axes multiplied. Vertically, a system is as tall as the staves the range needs; horizontally, a system holds as many notes as fit once the shortest is wide enough to read. the staff, seven to the octave: 3 staves to the system, 4 systems and 38 notes to a system, 152 notes to the page — 46 seconds at 100 beats a minute, so a page turn every 46 seconds; a chromatic staff, twelve to the octave: 4 staves to the system, 3 systems and 38 notes to a system, 114 notes to the page — 34 seconds at 100 beats a minute, so a page turn every 34 seconds; a whole-tone staff, six to the octave: 2 staves to the system, 7 systems and 38 notes to a system, 266 notes to the page — 80 seconds at 100 beats a minute, so a page turn every 80 seconds. a whole-tone staff, six to the octave holds 2.33 times what a chromatic staff, twelve to the octave does, which is a difference of 1.00 page turns a minute — and a page turn is a thing a player with two hands occupied cannot do.

How much music a page holds

Nine earlier essays have measured notations, and every one of them is a page — a two-dimensional object read in a fixed order by a reader who has to turn it. One measured the vertical axis and another the horizontal, and multiplying them gives the one design constraint on notation that is not about legibility at all: a chromatic staff turns pages a third more often than an ordinary one, and a proportional spacing rule turns them nearly twice as often as a columnar one.

scales · Notation A written dynamic is an instruction to the listener's impression. Every earlier scoring holds one chord still. A passage is a succession, and the running impression of loudness carries a chord into the one after it, so what a marking asks for and what playing the marking produces are different things. Here is a five-chord passage with a written shape. Playing each chord at its own written loudness gives the running impression 2.4, 3.0, 4.2, 5.6, 4.0 sones against the 2.4, 3.0, 4.2, 5.6, 2.0 that were asked for — right until the last chord, where it misses by 2.0. Solving for levels that make the impression arrive at the marking does not fix it: the last chord's target is I, two parts, and it is unreachable — the correction runs to silence and the impression still sits 1.1 sones above. A subito piano after a full chord is not a level a player can produce. It is a rate of change, and the smoother's two-second release is what refuses it.

A subito piano is a rate, not a level

All three earlier essays score one chord held still. An orchestration is a succession, and the running impression carries a chord into the one after it — so a written dynamic is an instruction to the listener's impression rather than to the instantaneous sound, and there are markings that cannot be produced at all. The correction runs to silence and the impression still sits above the target.

form · Orchestration Every standard rastral size against the two bounds a reader imposes. Print the notes larger and the eye-hand span stops fitting inside one fixation, so the reader has to saccade ahead faster than the eye can move. Print them smaller and a notehead stops subtending enough angle to be identified. Both bounds come from the reader and neither from the music. At 100 beats a minute with 2 notes to the beat, the acuity bound sits at 1.63 millimetres and the saccade bound at 7.5 — so the saccade rate is nowhere near binding and acuity is doing all the work, which is the opposite of what the eye-hand span suggests. 5 of the 9 standard rastrals clear the acuity bound: rastral 4 and larger. Those are exactly the sizes used for parts, and the ones below are used for study scores — which are read at a desk rather than played from at a stand, and a shorter viewing distance moves the bound with them.

The page is read by an eye

A sight-reader's eye sits a fixed number of notes ahead of the sounding one and a fixation takes in a fixed number of millimetres, and the spacing rule converts between them. Two bounds follow, from the reader rather than from the music — and the one everybody would expect to bind does not. The saccade rate has enormous headroom at any playable tempo, and what decides is acuity.

scales · Notation A page has two decibels and a player has sixty. Across, parts added to a final chord one at a time, each at the same level; up, the loudness that results, on a logarithmic scale. Going from one part to eight moves the total by 1.8 decibels and does not move it monotonically — four parts are louder than five and than eight. The faint line is what a naive power sum would give: 9.0 decibels. The band down the right is the same chord played by people, from forty to a hundred decibels, which spans 62. So a texture that thins from eight parts to one is not a diminuendo. It is a change of colour at constant loudness, and everything the closure figures call a dynamic belongs to the performance.

A page has two decibels

The account of closure called its dynamic component a corpus debt: it had no model of dynamics in a form. Loudness supplies one, and applying it answers the debt by refusing it. Adding parts to a final chord one at a time, each at the same level, moves the loudness by under two decibels and not monotonically — while a player has sixty. A texture that thins is not a diminuendo.

perception · Loudness The same eight notes are four times as much to read. How many bits each note of a line carries, taken as minus the log of the probability of the interval that reached it, under the distribution of melodic steps measured over the tunes used throughout. A scale costs 1.76 bits a note and a wide leaps costs 7.02 — a factor of 4.0 at the same number of notes on the page. Every quantity computed until now counts notes, and the page cannot tell these apart: eight quavers are eight quavers of horizontal space whichever line they spell.

A reader does not read notes

Eleven earlier essays count notes, and the page cannot tell one line of eight quavers from another. A reader can: a scale of eight is one object where eight leaps are eight. Measured against the melodic interval distribution, the same eight notes are four times as much to read — and the eye–hand span, the best-measured quantity in the reading literature, is four notes of a tune and one of a leaping line.

scales · Notation Articulation is worth 2.6 phons, and nobody counts it. A passage of notes at 80 decibels, 2 to the beat, at 7 tempi and 3 articulations, scored against the same level held continuously. The variable is the fraction of each inter-onset interval that is sounding — 0.95 is a legato, 0.4 a staccato — and the vertical axis is what that costs the passage's running loudness in phons. Nothing here is anybody playing harder or softer. At 40 to the beat the span from legato to staccato is 1.47 phons; at 200 it is 2.61, because a staccato note there lasts 60 milliseconds and no longer reaches its own loudness either.

A staccato is a dynamic mark

Every loudness figure in this collection is of a sound that has been going on long enough, and no note in music has. Run the running-loudness model on notes with lengths in them and an articulation turns out to command 1.5 phons at a slow tempo and 8.1 at a fast one — more than the 1.8 decibels a whole texture commands, on the same page, written down in the same ink, and counted by nobody.

perception · Loudness A notehead in four parts costs 1.30 bits and one in two parts costs 1.89. What one notehead asks of a reader, against how many parts are on the page, for a progression realised by the voice-leading solver used here at 2 semitones of motion a voice a chord. The horizontal rule is a note of a single melody under the measure established earlier, 1.89 bits, which is what a texture costs when its parts have to be read one at a time. The bars are the harmonic reading: the chord, charged at the worst case of 2.81 bits for one of seven diatonic degrees, plus the logarithm of how many voicings of it the previous chord could legally have moved to. At two parts there is no bar, because a duet has no complete voicing of any triad — it cannot state the harmony and has to be read as 3.79 bits of two independent lines. Every thicker texture is cheaper a notehead than the thin one, and the four-part figure is an upper bound.

Four parts are easier to read than two

Twelve earlier essays read one line, and a score is several at once. Measured through the voice-leading model, a notehead of a four-part chorale asks a reader for 1.30 bits and a note of an independent line asks 1.89 — so twice the ink is less than three quarters of the load. The reason is a boundary those essays already established: a duet has no complete voicing of any triad at all, so two parts cannot be read from their harmony and have to be read as two melodies.

harmony · Notation A bar of silence is worth 13.1 decibels written last and 6.0 written first. Four closing gestures, drawn against how many seconds of silence each contains. All four hold the same 12-part texture, write the same 6.0-decibel diminuendo over 4 seconds, and differ only in what order the diminuendo and the silence are written in. The quantity is how far the listener's running impression has fallen when the final chord arrives, in decibels of equivalent diminuendo. Written with the silence last, a general pause of a bar is worth 13.06 decibels and one of three and a half seconds is worth 28.3. Written with the silence first, both are worth 6.00 — exactly the diminuendo's own depth, because the music resuming after the silence puts the reference back at its own level. The silence written first is worth less than the silence written with no diminuendo at all, which reads 8.12 at a bar: a diminuendo placed after a general pause takes 2.12 decibels away and adds nothing.

A general pause is spent by the note after it

Whether a composer should write the pause before the diminuendo or after it looks like a question about how big the ensemble is. It is not. Forty decibels of ensemble are worth one decibel of silence, and the order is worth seven — because a running impression rises twenty times faster than it falls, so half a general pause is spent by ninety-seven milliseconds of sound.

form · Closure A note on the downbeat costs 1.89 bits and one on the offbeat 5.70. What each position in a bar of 4/4 asks of a reader, by two routes. The solid bar counts where the notes of this collection's own three tunes actually fall — 28, 2, 26, 4, 28, 0, 16, 0 notes at the 8 positions — and takes minus the log of the frequency. The rule across each bar is the same quantity from the stated metrical weights, 1, 0.15, 0.5, 0.15, 0.85, 0.15, 0.5, 0.15, normalised and logged the same way. Nothing makes the two agree. They put the eight positions in the same order, and they price the tunes' own rhythm a fifth of a bit apart — while differing by more than a whole bit about the quaver after the downbeat, which two notes in a hundred and four ever use. The two positions these tunes never touch at all are drawn at the floor, which is the same floor the melodic measure gives an interval nobody plays. A weight was always a probability waiting to be read as one.

Where the note is costs more than which note it is

Thirteen earlier essays measure a page, and the three that price a reader price only its pitches — every line they measure is a run of equal notes. A metrical weight normalised by its own sum is a probability, and minus its logarithm is bits — the same substitution made earlier for intervals. Measured over the tunes used throughout it comes out at 2.23 bits a note against the pitches' 1.89, so the larger half of a reader's load is where the note is.

rhythm · Notation The term that was owed, and the corpus cannot hold it. For each of the three tunes everything here is measured on, how many of its notes have a duration that differs from the gap to the next onset. The answer is none, in 101 notes: these tunes are stored as a list of pitches and lengths with no rests in them, so a note's duration IS its inter-onset interval and conditioning one on the other leaves exactly zero bits. That is a fact about the representation rather than about music. The prediction was that the term would be small, and it could not have been known that the corpus would make it identically zero — which means the prediction cannot be tested here and the exceptions have to be priced directly.

A note lasts until the next one starts

Pricing where a note is against which note it is left duration as the term it had not, with a prediction that it would be small. Measured on the three tunes these readings are built on, it is exactly zero — and it is zero by construction, because those tunes are stored as pitches and lengths with no rests in them, so every duration is its own inter-onset interval. The prediction cannot be tested on the corpus that produced it. Priced directly, a rest costs 0.67 bits a note where a tenth of the notes have one, which is not well under half a bit.

scales · Notation A tie is charged twice, and the second charge is the larger one. What a tie costs a reader, against the share of noteheads that are the second of a tied pair. The lower curve is the decision itself — is this notehead an event or a continuation? — at 0.52 bits a note where a tenth of them are tied. The upper curve adds what the extra noteheads cost on every other axis: a tied continuation has a pitch and a position and is read like any other notehead before the reader discovers it carries no event, at 4.79 bits each. The total is 1.05 bits a note, which is 2.0 times the decision alone and is a fifth of what a whole note of music costs. A tie is the most expensive mark on the staff per occurrence, and every published account of notational difficulty treats it as a minor one.

The notehead that is not a note

Every quantity so far is charged per notehead, and a tie is the one mark on the staff that puts a notehead on the page carrying no event. Its cost is not the decision that identifies it — that is half a bit where a tenth of the noteheads are continuations. It is the decision plus the whole reading of a notehead that turns out to have been unnecessary, which is 1.05 bits, twice the decision and a fifth of what a note of music costs. Set beside a dot and a longer note value, the tie is five times the price of either and is the only one of the three that can cross a barline.

scales · Notation Leaps do not fall where offbeats do, and a reader gets the difference free. Where each size of melodic move actually lands in the bar, over the 101 moves of the three tunes measured here. The two axes are priced separately everywhere and they are not independent: the mutual information between them is 0.31 bits a note, which is 20 per cent of the smaller of the two. That is the amount the sum over-charges. A reader who has seen where a note falls already knows something about how far it moved, so the joint cost is 3.47 bits rather than the 3.79 the two axes add to — and every reading load computed so far is high by the difference.

Leaps do not fall where offbeats do

Every reading load computed so far is a sum of two terms priced as though the axes were independent, and an earlier essay named the interaction it could not reach. Measured on the same hundred and one notes every other essay uses, the mutual information between how far a note moves and where it falls in the bar is 0.31 bits — a fifth of the smaller axis, and a sixth of a note's total load. Every reading load published so far is high by that amount, and the quantity saturates at exactly the grid the tunes are notated on, which is the check that it is measuring the music rather than the grid.

scales · Notation One number a page, and what a hard rhythm buys against a hard tune. Every combination of six kinds of line and seven kinds of rhythm, placed by what each axis costs a reader. The duration term (0.67 bits) and the interaction (0.31) are the same for every cell, so the diagonals are pages of equal difficulty and the exchange rate between the two axes is the slope of one. The pitch axis spans 5.26 bits across the six lines and the position axis 4.46 across the seven rhythms, so a composer choosing between the hardest line and the hardest rhythm is choosing between quantities within 18 per cent of each other. The hardest page is wide leaps in off the beat at 14.0 bits a note and the easiest is a scale on the beat at 4.2.

One number for a page

Four terms and an interaction give a single bit rate per note, and with it the exchange rate a long run of essays has been pointing at. Six kinds of line span 5.26 bits and seven kinds of rhythm span 4.46, so a composer trading a harder tune against a harder rhythm is trading quantities within eighteen per cent of each other — and pages that look nothing alike sit on the same contour. The hardest page on the grid costs 13.96 bits a note and the easiest 4.24, a factor of three and a half, and the subject closes there.

scales · Notation Six named proportions, as blurred as the durations that make them. Six proportions between two parts of a piece — 1 : 1, 4 : 3, 3 : 2, golden section, 2 : 1, 3 : 1 — placed on one axis by the logarithm of the ratio of the longer part to the shorter, and drawn as bars one criterion wide (d′ = 1) for a listener timing both parts with a Weber fraction of 7%, 15%, 35%. Bars that overlap are proportions that listener cannot tell apart. At 7%, 4 of 5 neighbouring pairs stay apart; at 15%, 3 of 5 neighbouring pairs stay apart; at 35%, 0 of 5 neighbouring pairs stay apart.

A proportion is only as fine as its two durations

Analyses of form measure proportions in bars and report them to three figures — a climax at 0.618, a section in the ratio 3 : 2. A listener has each part only as an estimate of how long it lasted, and a ratio of two estimates is blurred by both. Timed as well as anyone times a single second, eleven proportions fit between 1 : 1 and 3 : 1; timed from memory over minutes, two do. The golden section is told from 3 : 2 only below a Weber fraction of 5.4 per cent.

form · Proportion A final chord stands above the impression for a fraction of a second. How far a final chord at the tutti's own level stands above the listener's running impression at the instant it is released, against how long it lasts, for four ways of arriving at it. Straight out of the tutti it stands above nothing at any length; after 1.2 s of silence the impression is 8.1 dB down, and the chord stands highest, 5.14 dB, when it lasts 54 ms; after 3.5 s of silence the impression is 23.7 dB down, and the chord stands highest, 14.42 dB, when it lasts 28 ms; after a 6 dB diminuendo the impression is 5.0 dB down, and the chord stands highest, 3.18 dB, when it lasts 42 ms. Every curve is level again by half a second, because the impression's attack of 99 ms catches the note's attack of 22 ms, so a held chord is released at the impression's level whatever preceded it.

A final chord stands out for a twentieth of a second

A general pause drives a listener's running impression down, and the final chord that follows is supposed to cash the fall in. It cashes in at most two thirds of it. The note's own loudness rises with a 22-millisecond constant and the impression with a 99-millisecond one, so after a bar of silence the chord stands furthest above the impression 54 milliseconds in, by 5.1 of the 8.1 decibels the silence bought, and after 206 milliseconds the two are within a phon of each other. A short stamp spends most of its life standing out; a chord held a second and a half spends a seventh of it.

form · Closure

Named alongside it

The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.

Sight-readingInformationLoudnessStaffTempoDurationDynamicsClosureEnharmonicEntropyIntegration windowMetrical weight

All concepts