The collection

Every essay — page 22

Page 22 of 27, 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.

What a 60 cm tube supports, by how its ends are closed. The first 6 modes of an open cylinder and a stopped cylinder, all of the same acoustic length. An open tube supports every whole multiple of the fundamental and reaches the second mode an octave up. A cylinder stopped at one end supports only the odd multiples and reaches its second mode 1902 cents up, which is a twelfth. Its fundamental is also an octave below the others, because it fits a quarter of a wavelength where they fit a half.

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.

4 figures
What a 60 cm tube supports, by how its ends are closed. The first 6 modes of a stopped cylinder and a cone, all of the same acoustic length. A cone supports every whole multiple of the fundamental and reaches the second mode an octave up. A cylinder stopped at one end supports only the odd multiples and reaches its second mode 1902 cents up, which is a twelfth. Its fundamental is also an octave below the others, because it fits a quarter of a wavelength where they fit a half.

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.

5 figures
The end correction, for a bore of radius 7.5 mm. How flat a tube sounds against what its physical length alone would predict, because the wave carries on past the opening before it turns round. The correction is 4.6 mm at every note — Levine and Schwinger's 0.6133 times the radius for an unflanged end — and the error it causes is 13 cents on a 60 cm sounding length and 52 cents on 15 cm. It is the same millimetres in both cases.

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.

6 figures
Where each family's tone-hole lattice stops reflecting. The cutoff frequency of an open tone-hole lattice, from Benade's formula, for four woodwind geometries: clarinet 1824 Hz, oboe 2990 Hz, flute 1690 Hz, bassoon 506 Hz. Below its cutoff a note's wave turns round at the first open hole and the instrument is a tube of that length; above it the wave passes through the whole lattice and radiates from the far end, so the upper part of every note's spectrum leaves the instrument from the same place whichever note is fingered. That is what gives a family one recognisable voice across its range.

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.

5 figures
One register vent, 12 fingerings. Where the second mode's pressure node sits for each fingering of a stopped tube, against a single register hole drilled 12 cm from the mouthpiece. The node is a third of the way along the sounding length, so it moves every time a hole is opened, and the vent's error runs from -38 to -1 cents across the range. A perfect register system would need one hole per fingering. The number of holes actually fitted is one, and the leftover is a design decision rather than a fault.

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.

7 figures
A string struck at one 7th of its length. The amplitude of each partial of an ideal string excited at 0.1429 of its length. The mode shape is a sine, so a partial with a node at the excitation point cannot be set moving at all: partials 7, 14 are silent here. The envelope over the rest is one over n, a struck string's.

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.

7 figures
The same note, hit at a middling dynamic. The spectrum of a struck string with the hammer's own contact time applied as a low-pass. Contact lasts 1.60 ms at this force, against 2.26 ms at the softest and 0.95 ms at the loudest drawn — felt is a nonlinear spring, so a harder blow is a shorter contact and a brighter note. The spectral centroid moves from partial 1.5 to partial 2.2, which is a change of timbre and not of loudness.

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.

5 figures
Helmholtz motion, bowed at 9% of the way from the bridge. Above: the string at 5 instants of one period. It is two straight lines meeting at a corner, and the corner travels round the string rather than the string swinging. Below: the resulting force on the bridge, a sawtooth whose two segments are in the ratio 0.09 to 0.91 — the bow's own position. A sawtooth contains every harmonic at exactly one over n, so the spectrum barely changes with bow position even though the waveform plainly does.

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.

5 figures
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