Acoustics & Music Theory
why it sounds like that
The collection

Every essay — page 17

Page 17 of 21, continuing through the fields in the same order.

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

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.

How much bow force is allowed, and where. Schelleng's diagram. The lower bound is the least force that will trigger a slip on every pass of the corner and goes as one over beta squared; the upper bound is the most the string will take before it sticks for more than a period and goes as one over beta. At beta = 0.09 the usable range spans a factor of 9.0; at 0.03, near the bridge, it is 3.0, and at 0.2, over the fingerboard, 20.0. The window closes in proportion to beta, so the difficulty of playing near the bridge is a slope on this picture rather than a matter of opinion.

How much bow is allowed

Too little force and the corner fails to trigger a slip on every pass; too much and the string sticks for more than a period. Both bounds depend on where the bow is, and they depend on it differently — one as the square of the distance from the bridge and one linearly — so the window between them closes in proportion as the bow approaches the bridge. Sul ponticello is difficult by a power law.

7 figures A bell tuned to 294 Hz, and the note it is heard at. The partials of a well-tuned church bell, as ratios to the prime, with the three that imply the strike note marked. The nominal, twelfth and double octave sit at 2, 3 and 4, which is a harmonic series on 1 — so they imply a fundamental at 294 Hz, an octave below the loudest partial the bell has. The tierce at 1.2 is a MINOR third above the prime, which is why a bell has a minor quality by construction rather than by choice.

A bell has no fundamental

The note a listener names when a church bell is struck is not any partial the bell has. Its nominal, twelfth and double octave sit at 2, 3 and 4 times the prime, which is a harmonic series on a pitch an octave below the loudest thing in the sound — and that pitch is supplied by the listener. Founders have been tuning it by ear since the fifteenth century.

6 figures What is struck, and where its partials land. Partial ratios for an ideal string, an ideal membrane, a kettledrum, drawn on a logarithmic axis so that a whole-number ratio is a fixed distance from the last. An ideal string: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. An ideal membrane: 1, 1.59, 2.14, 2.29, 2.65, 2.92. A kettledrum: 1, 1.50, 1.99, 2.44, 2.89. The membrane's are Bessel zeros — a derivation, and they land nowhere near the whole numbers. The kettledrum's have been pulled toward 2 : 3 : 4 : 5 by the enclosed air, on a fundamental an octave below the lowest partial present.

What a drum is doing instead

An ideal membrane's modes are zeros of Bessel functions — 1, 1.59, 2.14, 2.30 — which support no common fundamental, so a drum rings without a note. A timpani is that problem solved — the kettle's air and the radiation load drag four modes onto 1, 1.5, 2, 2.5, and the pitch a timpanist tunes is the fundamental those four imply and none of them is.

5 figures What 2 partials imply, and how many answers there are. The partials are at 32.7, 49.0 Hz. Each row is a harmonic series they are consistent with to within 30 cents: the filled dots are the partials in their assigned slots and the open dots are slots the series predicts that nothing occupies. There are 5 such series with harmonic numbers up to 16, the best fitting them to 1.4 cents with a fundamental of 16.34 Hz and no unoccupied slot. The rest sit at one half, one third, one quarter, one fifth of it and their arithmetic is exactly as exact; what separates them is the count of empty slots, which is why a residue pitch built from few partials is reported an octave out by a minority of listeners and not by the rest.

Two pipes for a note neither makes

The resultant stop sounds a sixteen-foot pipe and a ten-and-two-thirds-foot pipe and asks the listener for a thirty-two-foot note. It is the missing fundamental built on purpose from the fewest partials that can imply anything — and counting how many fundamentals two partials actually imply is the arithmetic behind three centuries of builders disagreeing about whether it works.

5 figures The most a 6 cm cone can make of a low note. The maximum sound pressure level at one metre from a circular radiator of effective radius 3.2 cm, moving 1.5 mm at its limit, in a system resonating at 250 Hz. Below resonance the cone is already at that limit and the pressure a piston makes goes as the square of frequency, so the curve falls at twelve decibels an octave: 66 dB at 40 Hz, 78 dB at 80 Hz, 94 dB at 200 Hz. The 40 Hz figure is 28 decibels below the 200 Hz one, and that gap is arithmetic about a radius and a displacement rather than a property of any particular loudspeaker. The dots are the harmonics of a 41.2 Hz note with a one-over-n source spectrum; the loudest of them is the 6th.

The bass a small loudspeaker does not make

A three-inch cone at its excursion limit produces sixty-six decibels at forty hertz, which the ear converts to seventeen phons — barely above nothing. The note is heard anyway, because its harmonics are radiated and its fundamental is supplied by the listener. Computing what arrives turns the residue from a curiosity into a design decision, and finds that the fundamental of a low note is not the loudest part of it on any system a listener is likely to own.

8 figures Two players, and the correction that keeps them together. The spread of the asynchrony between two players, in milliseconds, against beat number, for 3 correction gains, averaged over 120 seeded runs each. It reaches 120 ms after 64 beats at a gain of 0, 27 ms after 64 beats at a gain of 0.1, 20 ms after 64 beats at a gain of 0.3. With no correction at all the asynchrony is a random walk and grows without bound; with any correction it settles at a fixed spread within a few beats and stays there. Two people cannot share a timekeeper, so the fact that ensembles do not come apart is itself the evidence that they are correcting.

Two players and no clock

Two people cannot share a timekeeper, and two independent ones drift a hundred and twenty milliseconds apart inside a minute. Ensembles do not, so something is correcting — and the measurement everybody reaches for recovers the pair's total responsiveness exactly and cannot tell which of the two is doing it. Four tenths from one player and two tenths each give the identical number.

8 figures The same hall, empty and full. A hall of 18700 cubic metres with 900 square metres of audience, designed to 1.9 seconds occupied, with three kinds of seat under the audience. It is 2.76 s empty and 1.90 s full with hard wooden seats, a change of 31 per cent; 2.29 s empty and 1.90 s full with lightly padded, a change of 17 per cent; 1.96 s empty and 1.90 s full with heavily upholstered, a change of 3 per cent. The audience is 45 per cent of the total absorption when the hall is full, which is the largest single term in the equation — and how much the hall changes is decided entirely by what the seats were doing before anybody sat on them.

The model has nobody in it

Sabine's room is an empty box. The audience is 45 per cent of a full hall's absorption, a hall with hard seats goes from 2.76 seconds empty to 1.90 full, and because an audience absorbs far more treble than bass it does not shorten the decay so much as tilt it. And the players are inside the loop the model has no term for at all.

7 figures The flow through the larynx, over two periods of a 110 Hz note. Volume flow against time, in Rosenberg's two-half-cosine model of the glottal pulse — a slow opening, a faster closing, and a closed phase during which no air passes at all. M1 — chest is open for 50 per cent of each period and opens 2.4 times as slowly as it closes. Nothing here is a displacement: the folds are a valve on a steady stream of air, and the flat stretches are the moments they are shut. At 110 Hz each period lasts 9.1 milliseconds, of which 4.5 is silence.

The other instrument with a reed

The folds do not vibrate the way a string does. They open and shut across a steady stream of air, once per period, and what leaves the larynx is a train of flow pulses with a closed phase in it. Everything said about the voice's tone is a statement about the shape of that pulse — and the shape has two numbers in it.

7 figures Two mechanisms, the notes both of them make, and the seam. The frequency range of each laryngeal mechanism for an adult male voice, on a logarithmic axis, with the band both can produce shaded. M1 — chest runs 82–349 Hz and M2 — falsetto runs 220–698 Hz, so 799 cents of the range — 8.0 semitones — can be sung either way. The two dots inside that band are the measured signature that this is a bifurcation rather than a threshold: the change upward happens at 330 Hz and the change downward at 294 Hz, 200 cents lower. A threshold is crossed at the same place in both directions and this is not.

Two mechanisms, and the seam between them

Every singer has a place in the range where the voice changes character, and eight semitones of it can be produced either way. The measurement that settles what kind of a place it is takes ten seconds: the change upward happens two hundred cents higher than the change downward, and a threshold cannot do that.

8 figures A reed that shuts at 5000 pascals, and the air it lets through. Volume flow through the reed channel against the pressure across it, in the quasi-static model: Bernoulli flow through an opening that closes linearly with pressure. The flow peaks at 1667 pascals — exactly a third of the closing pressure, for any reed, because that is where the two effects balance — and it is 0.18 litres a second there. Everything to the right of that peak is the argument: the flow falls as the player blows harder, from 0.18 to 0.05 litres a second by 4500 pascals, and a resistance that behaves that way supplies energy instead of taking it. There is no reed inertia in this model, so it cannot squeak.

The reed is a valve, not a vibrator

Three essays here have said that a clarinet's reed does not choose the note, and none of them said what it does instead. It chops a steady stream of air, and past a third of the pressure that closes it the flow falls as the player blows harder — a resistance with the wrong sign, which is the only thing in the instrument capable of putting energy into an oscillation that is otherwise losing it.

7 figures Where the series stops being a chord and becomes a scale. The interval between each partial and the next, in semitones, against partial number. It is an octave, then a fifth, then a fourth, a major third, a minor third — and it crosses 2 semitones between partials 9 and 10. Each shaded band is one octave of pitch and holds twice as many partials as the band below it: 2 between 1 and 2, 3 between 2 and 4, 5 between 4 and 8, 9 between 8 and 16. Nothing about the series changes with height; what changes is the density, and a set of notes becomes usable as a melody when its neighbours are a step apart.

The register where the series becomes a scale

A melody needs steps, and a natural trumpet has only the harmonic series. The gap between one partial and the next falls as the series rises — an octave, a fifth, a fourth, a third — and does not reach a whole tone until the eighth. That single arithmetic fact decides what two centuries of brass writing could be: fanfares below, and melody only in a band one octave wide with nine notes in it, three of them badly out of tune and every one of them lipped into place by a player who had no valve to press.

8 figures A constant bow force cannot start a note. Schelleng's minimum and maximum bow force, evaluated at the speed the bow has after one period rather than at the speed the note will be sustained at. Both bounds are proportional to bow speed and the speed after one period is the acceleration divided by the frequency, so both are proportional to acceleration and the region is a wedge through the origin. Its width as a ratio is 9.0 to 1 at every acceleration — the attack is not a narrower window than the sustain, it is the same window somewhere else. A fixed force, drawn here at 0.02, is inside it at one acceleration, about 0.18, which is why the force has to rise with the speed and why beginning a note is a trajectory through this plane rather than a point in it.

The note has to start somewhere

Schelleng's diagram says how hard a bow may press at a given distance from the bridge for a steady tone to be possible. It is a map of a note that is already sounding, and it contains no information whatever about how to begin one. Read the same inequality at the speed the bow has after a single period rather than at the speed it will settle to and the admissible region turns out to be a wedge through the origin — same width as a ratio, a hundred and ninety-six times lower in force. A constant bow pressure is inside it for one instant of the attack and outside it for the rest.

8 figures 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.

7 figures One key, nineteen notes, one right answer. A register hole disturbs a mode in proportion to the square of that mode's pressure at the hole, so the place that spoils the fundamental and leaves the third harmonic alone is the third harmonic's own pressure node — a third of the way down whatever length is sounding. The length changes with every fingering and the key does not move, so the two curves cross at one note. At A3 the key sits almost exactly on the node and the twelfth speaks cleanly; at A♭4 it is at 62 per cent of the tube and disturbs the third harmonic by 96 per cent of what an antinode would, which is the throat of the instrument and is exactly where players say the notes are worst.

The hole that spoils a note

A tone hole shortens the tube. A register hole does the opposite job: it is small enough to shorten nothing and is placed where it will wreck the fundamental's resonance and leave the third harmonic's alone, so the note jumps a twelfth instead of retuning. The place that does both is a pressure node of the harmonic being kept — a third of the way along whatever length is sounding — and the length changes with every fingering while the key does not. One key is at the right place for exactly one note, and the note it is worst for is in the throat of the instrument, which is where players say the instrument is worst.

7 figures A perfectly tuned unison is the shortest note on the piano. How long a struck unison takes to fall forty decibels, against how far apart its two strings are tuned, for a note whose single string would ring for 20 seconds and whose bridge takes the in-phase mode down in 1.5. At a perfect unison the hammer excites only the mode that drives the bridge, so the note dies in 1.00 seconds. The longest note is at 2.30 cents, at 3.05 seconds — three times as long. Past 4.48 cents the two modes stop sharing a frequency and start sharing a decay, the note beats instead of ringing, and the sustain collapses.

Three strings, and the note that comes back

The usual account of a beat adds two independent sources together. A piano's strings are joined at the bridge and are not independent: the pair has normal modes, one of which drives the bridge and dies in a second and a half while the other cancels at the bridge and rings for twenty. A hammer striking a perfect unison excites only the first — so a perfectly tuned unison is the shortest note on the instrument, dying in one second, and the longest is at a deliberate detuning of about two and a half cents, at three. Past four and a half cents the two modes swap what they share and the sustain collapses.

8 figures How near the node a hammer has to land. The level of partial 7, relative to the loudest partial of the same note, against how far the hammer is from that partial's node — for a contact 2.6 per cent of the speaking length wide, which is 16 mm on a 620 mm string. At the node exactly the partial is absent whatever the width, because a mode shape is odd about its own node and integrating an odd function symmetrically gives zero. Twenty decibels of suppression needs the hammer within 2.82 mm, and thirty needs 0.89 mm. The width itself barely matters in the musical range: its sinc reaches its first zero only at partial 77.

The hammer is not a point either

The comb of missing partials is computed throughout for a contact of no width, and a piano hammer is sixteen millimetres of felt on a string of six hundred. Integrating the mode shape across the felt turns out not to fill the null in: a mode is odd about its own node, so a symmetric contact centred on it gives an exact zero however wide it is. What destroys the null is being in the wrong place, and the tolerance is 2.8 millimetres for twenty decibels of suppression and 0.89 for thirty. The design decision found at the outset is a manufacturing tolerance.

8 figures Two clocks on one contact, and which of them runs out first. Two times that could end a hammer's contact with a string, across the compass. The flat line is the felt's own recoil, which this site models as a fixed 1.6 milliseconds at a stated force and which does not know what note is being played. The falling line is the string's: a mass m driving a string of impedance Z loses its momentum in m/2Z, which is 11.9 milliseconds at the bottom of the keyboard and 0.76 at the top. They cross at G3. Below the crossing the felt lets go first and above it the string gets there first, and over six octaves the two are within a factor of two of each other — so the contact time is a coupled quantity and not a property of the felt.

The hammer that is heavier than its string

Three earlier essays varied where the hammer lands, how long it stays and how wide it is, and the third named the fourth variable: the exciter's own mass. It inverts across one instrument — the hammer is lighter than the wire it hits at the bottom of a piano and thirteen times heavier at the top — and it turns the contact time into a quantity the string decides rather than the felt.

7 figures The bow's window across a compass, with the bridge in it. Schelleng's window — the ratio of the largest usable bow force to the smallest — at a bow position of 0.09 of the length, across 196 to 1568 hertz, with the minimum scaled by the body's own admittance at each note. The window is widest between resonances and narrowest on them: it falls from 25 to 1.7 at B♭4. The notes a player finds hard to start are the local minima, and they sit on the body's resonances by construction — C♯4, B♭4, C♯5 for this body. At this bow position it never closes; move the bow toward the bridge and it does.

The note the body will not let start

Every figure until now treats the string as though it ended at a rigid point, and an earlier essay admitted it: the body feeds back on the string hard enough to make some notes difficult on one instrument and easy on another. Put the body's own admittance into Schelleng's minimum bow force and the window narrows by fifteen to one at the corpus resonances — and near the bridge it closes.

7 figures Which ensembles have this problem and which do not. The width of the heard-moment spread built into 7 standard instrumentations, before any player does anything. An ensemble drawn from one attack family has a spread of zero — every note is heard the same distance after it is started, so a common onset is a common heard moment, and this is true of a string quartet and of a gamelan for the same reason and in the same amount. A mixed ensemble carries between 11 and 33 milliseconds of it.

The players who have to be early

Ensembles have been measured for fifty years and found to be about forty milliseconds out of alignment, which has always been reported as the limit of human precision. Part of it is not: an ensemble that mixes attack families carries a heard-moment spread of ten to thirty-three milliseconds before anybody plays a note, and an ensemble drawn from one family carries none at all — which is true of a string quartet and of a gamelan for the same reason.

8 figures The window is a different width on each string. The width of Schelleng's bow-force window across each string's own playable range, with both terms in it: the body's admittance, which was added earlier, and the string's own characteristic impedance, which every figure had held at one value. The four curves are the same shape displaced vertically, because the impedance is a constant per string — the G string's is 1.81 times the E string's, and the window is one over that. Where the ranges overlap, the same pitch sits on two or three curves at once.

The same note is a different width

Schelleng's two bounds both carry the string's characteristic impedance and they carry it to different powers — the maximum force as Zc and the minimum as Zc squared — so the window a player has to stay inside goes as one over Zc. A violin has four strings whose impedances differ by a factor of 1.81, the same written pitch is available on two or three of them, and the tolerance is nearly twice as wide on one as on another. The two lightest strings turn out to have almost identical impedance, which nobody chose by accident.

6 figures 4 bores of one length, and the series each supports. cylinder, cone, exponential horn, Bessel horn — every one of them 148 cm long, 5.5 mm at the throat and 62 mm at the mouth, so the only thing that differs is the shape between the two. Beside each is the series of resonances Webster's equation gives it, and the number is how far that series is from evenly spaced, in cents. cylinder: 0.0 cents, with each mode sitting at minus 0.50 of a spacing off a whole multiple; cone: 9.6 cents, with each mode sitting at minus 0.12 of a spacing off a whole multiple; exponential horn: 22.8 cents, with each mode sitting at minus 0.16 of a spacing off a whole multiple; Bessel horn: 3.7 cents, with each mode sitting at minus 0.11 of a spacing off a whole multiple.

Only two shapes make a series

A tube's length sets where its modes are and its shape sets whether they are a series at all — and of every shape a maker could choose, exactly two give evenly spaced modes. Neither of them is the shape of a trumpet. Webster's equation says how far the others miss by, and the answer is a quarter of a semitone for the obvious ones and four cents for the family brass bells actually belong to.

7 figures The bow's window along each string, with the bow held still. Schelleng's window — the ratio of the greatest bow force a note tolerates to the least — for every written pitch on every string that can play it, with the bow 35 mm from the bridge and staying there. The window widens up each string because β is the bow's distance over the SOUNDING length and the sounding length is shortening, and it steps down at each new string because a heavier string carries a narrower one. The dashed lines are what was drawn earlier, which held β at 0.09 for every note on every string. The widest disagreement between two strings at one pitch is 1.48 to one, at A♭5.

Two dials the player turns together

Schelleng's window is a ratio of two bow forces, and an earlier essay found that the string's own impedance is in it twice. What it held still was the bowing point — as though a player kept β constant while moving up the fingerboard, which is the opposite of what a bow does. Let the bow stay where a bow stays and the window widens up every string, the spread between two strings at one pitch goes from 1.4 to 1.5 the other way round, and the string that is easiest changes.

6 figures The cutoff computed from the shape, and the cutoff read off the measurement. Two numbers for the same boundary. The hollow point is Webster's local cutoff — the largest value of (c/2π)√Γ along the bore, which is geometry alone. The filled point is where the impedance peaks stop, which is what a maker measures with a loudspeaker and a microphone. cone: no geometric cutoff at all, and peaks stopping at 4731; exponential horn: 89 hertz from the geometry, and peaks stopping at 2614, a factor of 29.26; catenoidal horn: 115 hertz from the geometry, and peaks stopping at 2499, a factor of 21.76; Bessel horn: 1154 hertz from the geometry, and peaks stopping at 1593, a factor of 1.38; cylinder and Bessel flare: 2945 hertz from the geometry, and peaks stopping at 4417, a factor of 1.50. The published figure for a trumpet is about 1500 hertz, marked. The two agree within about half for a bore whose flare is concentrated at the end and disagree by more than an order of magnitude for one whose flare is spread along it, which says what the local formula is and is not a measurement of.

The cutoff a maker can actually measure

A trumpet's bell cutoff computed from the geometry alone comes to 1,150 hertz against a published 1,500, and the calibration was the first thing that left owing. Measuring the model the way a maker measures the instrument — sweep a loudspeaker in, find where the impedance peaks stop — gives 1,593. The discrepancy was almost entirely in the formula, and on a bore whose flare is spread rather than concentrated the same formula is out by a factor of twenty-nine.

6 figures The fingerboard, with the hardest place on it. Every written pitch from G3 to G6 on every string that can reach it, shaded by the width of Schelleng's bow-force window there — dark is narrow, which is a note that is hard to start. Two effects are multiplied and neither earlier figure could show the other: the body's admittance, which depends on the frequency, and the bowing fraction and string impedance, which depend on where the hand is. The worst place is C♯4 on the G3 string, 6 semitones up it, at a window of 12.2 against 471 at the easiest — a factor of 39 across the instrument. It sits where the body's A0 resonance crosses the heaviest string played high, which is the compounding this figure was drawn to find: neither variable alone puts a minimum there.

The hardest place on the fingerboard

Two things narrow a bow's window and each has been drawn alone. The bridge's admittance is a function of frequency; the bowing fraction is a function of where the left hand is. They meet on a real fingerboard, and multiplying the two curves gives a map with a worst place on it — C♯ on the G string, sixth position, where the body's air resonance crosses the heaviest string played short. The window there is twelve, against three hundred and eighty at the easiest.

6 figures