Every essay — page 16
Pitch and tuning Intervals and chords Scales and modes Harmony and voice leading Rhythm and metre Timbre and acoustics Perception and the listener Instruments and their design Form and structure Series Objects Sounds Search
Perception and the listener
Loudness is not amplitude and a beat is not in the signal. What the ear adds, hides, merges and supplies — measured, with the numbers every other field has been assuming.
The turn is half the angle
A stationary head cannot tell a sound in front from the same sound behind, and an earlier essay said so at length. The turn that breaks the confusion is 0.84 degrees — exactly half the angle a source would have to move for the same listener to notice it moving, and half for a reason. In a hall the same turn does something else: the source swings at 8.9 microseconds a degree and the room swings at 2.7, so a listener who moves is separating the soloist from the reverberation as well as the front from the back.
A smaller head in the same hall
Ten earlier essays draw one head. Every parameter belonging to the room has been varied by some figure and the one belonging to the listener never has, and it is the only one whose change the detection threshold does not follow: a six-year-old in the same seat receives the same fifty-four reflections at the same instants and reads them onto an axis with seventy distinguishable positions instead of eighty-seven. The speed of sound, swept over every temperature a hall is ever at, changes nothing at all — and the reason it cannot is the reason head size can.
A blown note does not start late, it starts slowly
Computing the onset cue removed a free parameter and turned out to be unanimous, and it predicted that a wind instrument would put it back, because a blown note's partials arrive over tens of milliseconds. They do — 121 on a clarinet — and it is not an asynchrony: every partial begins the instant the reed does and they differ in rate, not in time. Read at a tenth of the steady amplitude the spread is 5.5 milliseconds against a threshold of twenty, so the cue is still unanimous, and the missing number is no longer the exchange rate but the criterion.
Eleven partials is one too many
Six earlier essays census exactly ten partials and no figure has ever passed another number. At eleven, the harmonicity census stops finding a perfect harmonic series' own fundamental, takes the octave above it, calls every odd partial inharmonic, and the competition cuts an ideal string in two. It is not the arbitration — the cost of a second stream was swept over a factor of fifty and every verdict came back identical — it is a cap that exists for a good reason and turns out to be the same number as the count.
Read at two different heights
Ten placements of these figures, one value: the settling criterion is nine tenths in every one of them, and nothing is measured behind it. It is a multiplicative constant only inside the mechanism that has it — a bow's capture and an exciter's contact contain no criterion at all — so moving it rescales one of three clusters against two that stand still. The most-quoted number here, a factor of sixty-nine between the instrument's account and the listener's, is 5.9 at the criterion the listener's own measurements use, and the ordering an earlier essay was written about does not exist below a fifth.
A part entering is not a change of level
Five earlier essays measure a sonority that is already sounding. The one thing an orchestrator actually controls is the entry, and priced at every semitone it comes to 0.89 phons — under the difference limen — with only 29 of 61 available entries clearing it and none below A♭4. What an entry is instead is an object arriving, and the reason is that its own rise time is faster than the listener's.
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.
The listener is given the top voice, and the bass as a sine
Four earlier essays put the masker and the probe in the same voice. Put them in different voices — a four-part texture at one level — and the soprano arrives with all eight of its partials, the alto with five, the tenor with two and the bass with one. Balancing the loudness, which is the constraint a scoring is solved under, changes none of that: equal loudness is not equal spectrum and cannot be made so.
A low chord stops being rough by stopping being a chord
Every count of audible partials until now is of a chord at middle C, and the three registers it did compare span C3 to C5 — a third of the range a chord is written in. Move the same triad down and the count collapses: 79 per cent of its partials arrive at E3 and 4 per cent at C1. So the roughest chord on the page is the lowest one and the roughest chord a listener receives is at G2, and where that maximum sits moves nearly two octaves with the dynamic.
An attack time is not an attack
Eight earlier essays read a heard moment off an envelope, and every one of them used the same envelope shape without saying so: the source table records one curve for all nine of its families, and the map's own arithmetic does not carry the parameter at all. A published attack time fixes a ten-to-ninety time and nothing else. Under the two other shapes the same measurement admits, every millisecond computed so far doubles — and the constructed passage called inaudible earlier becomes three times a listener's threshold.
Where a wrong head gives itself away
Every claim so far maps a delay to a direction through one fixed geometry, and the listener acquires that map while the geometry grows under them by seventy per cent. So the map can be wrong — and the essay before this one said the error would be largest on the median plane, where the delay curve is steepest. It is exactly zero there. The steepness is in the error and in the threshold and cancels between them, which leaves a listener whose internal head is 1.3 millimetres out with one place to catch it: hard to the side, where nobody localises well.
A subito piano is four seconds longer in the bass
Every loudness figure with time in it converts level to loudness at one kilohertz, and the equal-loudness contours say that no other frequency works that way. Joining the two sorts the published numbers into those that were about the treble and those that were not. Three move a great deal — a twenty-decibel crescendo is worth 27 phons on a bass note and 20 on a high one, and the seven seconds a subito piano takes becomes eleven and a third. Three do not move at all, and the reason they do not is the same reason in every case.
A clarinet keeps what a string loses
Every masker, probe, chord, line and texture until now is eight partials falling as 1/n, and it was not even an option a placement could pass. Sweeping the six spectra to hand says the clarinet is the worst of them — 54 per cent of itself at best against a string's 79 — and that answer is an artefact of the score. Counted against what each note keeps on its own, the clarinet keeps 100 per cent where the string keeps 79, because its components stand a twelfth apart rather than an octave. The missing parameter was the spectrum; the second missing parameter was the denominator.
The error that moves straight ahead
The essay before this one found that a listener whose internal head is the wrong size makes no error at all on the median plane, and has to look hard to the side to catch it. Every head drawn here has its ears at equal radii, which makes the delay curve odd and every error a factor — and a factor cannot move a zero. Real heads are not symmetric. A constant offset of twenty microseconds displaces a listener's straight ahead by two and a quarter degrees, and it displaces every other direction by the same number of just-noticeable steps, exactly.
The arch belongs to hearing, not to the series
A chord delivers most of its partials in the middle of the compass and loses them in the bass and the treble, and every spectrum that showed that arch was built on whole multiples of a fundamental. Give the same amplitudes to a bell's eight modes and to a stiff string's stretched partials and the arch is still there, peaking within a major third of where the harmonic series peaks. What the spacing changes is the detail: a bell crowds its tierce and quint into a quarter of a critical band in the bass and loses them, and a stiff string's stretch buys the bass back.
A bass chord low enough to balance has already hidden its tenor
Played as loud as the written register, a progression two octaves down is 343 times rougher than the same progression an octave up — if every partial on the page is counted. Count only the partials that stand above what the rest of the chord masks and that register is the smoothest of the four, with nothing left that beats. The balance is not what does it: the extra thirteen decibels move no voice by more than two partials. The register had already buried the tenor at the written dynamic.
Instruments and their design
Where the sound came from before any of the above. A stopped tube has only odd partials, a hammer at one seventh silences the seventh, and a bass string is wound because a plain one would be longer than the room.
A tube that skips every other partial
Stop one end of a cylinder and half its modes vanish. That single fact about where the pressure has to be decides that a clarinet sounds hollow, that it plays an octave below its length suggests, and that it must cover nineteen semitones with fingers before it can overblow — while every other woodwind covers twelve.
A cone is not a cylinder
A saxophone has a reed at a closed end, exactly as a clarinet does, and it overblows at the octave rather than the twelfth. If the previous essay's argument were about reeds that would refute it. It is about geometry, and a cone closed at its apex has the complete harmonic series for a reason that takes one line of algebra and is genuinely surprising.
The tube ends after it ends
A wave does not turn round at the opening. It carries on into the room for about six-tenths of the bore radius and reflects there, so every tube is acoustically longer than it is. The correction is a fixed number of millimetres against a wavelength that halves every octave — a rounding error at the bottom of an instrument's range and most of a semitone at the top.
Above a certain note the holes stop working
A row of open tone holes reflects the wave and makes the tube shorter — up to a frequency. Above it the wave runs straight past the whole lattice and leaves from the bell, so the top of every note's spectrum radiates from the same place whichever note is fingered. That cutoff is computable, it differs by family, and it is most of what makes an oboe sound like an oboe.
One hole doing a dozen jobs
A register key works by forcing a pressure node where the second mode already has one, which kills the fundamental and leaves the mode above. The node sits a fixed fraction along the sounding length — and the sounding length changes with every fingering, while the hole stays where it was drilled. The leftover error is computable, and it is why the throat notes are the ones players complain about.
Where the hammer lands
Strike a string at exactly one over n and the nth partial is silent, because the hammer has landed on that mode's node and cannot move it. A piano's hammers strike between a seventh and a ninth of the way along, which puts the seventh partial — the most dissonant member of the series — at or near a null. That is a design decision made in wood, and it takes one line of trigonometry.
A hammer is not an impulse
Contact lasts a couple of milliseconds, which low-passes the note — any partial whose half-period is shorter than the contact is barely excited. Piano felt is a spring that stiffens as it compresses, so a harder blow makes the contact shorter, the corner higher and the note brighter. A loud note is not a scaled-up quiet one, and no linear model gives that.
The bow makes a corner
A bowed string is not a string swinging. It is two straight lines meeting at a single sharp corner that travels round the string once per period, triggering the slip that keeps it going. The force on the bridge is therefore a sawtooth, and a sawtooth is every harmonic at exactly one over n — which is why a bowed string is the most nearly perfect harmonic series in the orchestra.