Every essay — page 25
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
Form and structure
The shape a piece has in time, computed rather than labelled. A distance matrix finds the sections before anybody names them, a phrase turns out to be a number of seconds rather than of bars, and an ending is five separate signals that can each arrive without the others.
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.
The boundary is where the neighbourhood changes
A section boundary can be found by an operator that never sees a section. It walks the diagonal of a similarity matrix asking one local question — do the bars behind me resemble each other, do the bars ahead resemble each other, and do the two groups resemble each other — and where the answer is yes, yes, no, there is an edge. What it cannot find turns out to say more than what it can.
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.
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.
One of these eight-bar phrases accelerates
The sentence and the period both occupy eight bars, both end with a cadence, and both are recognised by ear rather than counted. What separates them is arithmetic. One halves its unit halfway through and the other does not, and the difference comes out as a single ratio — 0.67 against 1.00 — computed from nothing but the lengths of the parts.
What makes an ending an ending
Cadences are ranked. The authentic one is strong, the plagal weaker, the deceptive weaker still — and the solver here measured the quantity that ranking is usually explained by and found it says something else entirely. What survives is not a weaker version of the ranking but a different kind of object, with five components and no total.
An ending that exists so a bigger one can
Half of the cadences in tonal music are built to fail. A phrase that stopped convincingly at bar four would be a piece four bars long, so the ending at bar four is engineered to arrive and not to settle — and the components it withholds are exactly the ones its partner at bar eight supplies. Closure is nested, and the nesting is what turns two phrases into one thing.
The bar above the bar
A four-bar group is a bar whose beats are bars. That is not an analogy — it is the same computation, and the same metre-induction model produces one when it is handed bars instead of beats, unchanged. What decides where the hierarchy of levels stops is not in the arithmetic at all, and it is a number the phrase essay already measured.
The key plan is the form
The large shape of a classical movement is not a shape at all, it is a journey — out to one key and back. Which key is not a matter of taste. Of the two keys that share six of their seven notes with home, only one introduces a note the home key does not use in any of its chords, and that note is the arriving key's own leading note. The departure is audible because of one accidental.
A cycle cannot cadence
Every component of closure is defined by a first time and a last time. Music built on a repeating cycle has neither, so the whole apparatus returns zero on it — not a small value, zero, at every setting. What such music uses instead is how many things are playing, and that is a curve which can be computed from the onsets and nothing else.
How long until it comes back
A self-similarity matrix has a second reading that nobody looks for. Add up each diagonal instead of walking along one, and out falls repetition as a function of how long ago — a period, in bars, with no segmentation, no kernel width and no bar numbers anywhere in the answer. Five of the six schemes here report the length a listener would have named. The sixth reports something better.
The form a first hearing cannot have
Every figure so far was computed with the whole piece in hand. Run the same methods over only the bars already heard and one of the two methods survives intact — the boundary operator turns out to be causal at a fixed delay of a few bars — while the other collapses. The period of a piece is not knowable until the piece is nearly over, and in two of the six schemes here not until its last bar.
The same thing somewhere else
A measure built on which notes are sounding calls a passage that comes back a fifth higher a stranger. There is a dial that fixes this, and turning it is supposed to be a trade — more sensitivity to a transposed return, less specificity against a coincidental one. It is not that trade. Two different statistics answer opposite ways, and the setting that would compromise between them is the worst one available.
Where a repeat is changed
Cut every scheme into its own repeat unit, compare each unit with every other, and ask where a repeat stops agreeing with what it repeats. The answer is that it stops at the end, in every case the corpus contains — and the number of cases the corpus contains depends entirely on where the threshold for "a repeat" is put. Moving it by nothing at all takes the count from two to twenty and the finding with it.
A metre has to be able to change its mind
Replace the scoring function with a phase-corrected oscillator and the two failures reported earlier separate. The beat now survives two silent bars, drifting 23 milliseconds of a 560-millisecond beat. But it does not lose a moving tempo so much as lag behind it, by the rate over the correction gain — and a cadential ritardando that halves the tempo in eight beats is faster than the model can follow.
An ending is a deceleration
Every performance slows down at the end and the slowing has a shape. Tempo read against score position is the velocity of a body stopping — a square root rather than a straight line — and the three candidate curves agree at both ends by construction, so the whole audible difference is in the middle, where they part by fifteen per cent of the passage's length.
An ending that can be heard coming
Two measurements are both called hearing an ending coming and they point in opposite directions. By the halfway mark of an ordinary form almost nothing new arrives — and the cost of coding each bar has not fallen at all. Neither statistic says anything is about to stop, because no statistic over content can: predicting the next event well is not predicting that there will not be one.
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.
The leap that pays itself back
Every melody textbook teaches that a leap should be followed by a step in the opposite direction, and every corpus that has been counted agrees — around seven leaps in ten are answered that way. A random walk with two walls, no memory of the leap and no rule of any kind reverses after 61 per cent of them, and the residue is not a rule either. What is left when the walls are accounted for is a prediction the rule does not make, and it is the prediction that decides between them.
The shape that survives everything else
Throw away a melody's key, its tuning, its instrument and the sizes of its intervals, and what is left is a string of pluses and minuses. That string is what a listener who cannot name a note still has, and it costs 37 per cent of the tune to keep. The arch that melodic shape is famous for is not in it as a preference: enumerate every six-note sequence that begins and ends on the lowest degree it uses and 99.6 per cent of them are arches, because a melody that comes home from below has nowhere to go first but up.
The twelfth, and where it comes from
Melodies occupy about an octave and a fifth, and an earlier essay set out to explain that by the singer's register break and found that it does not: the chest mechanism alone spans two octaves and a semitone. The answer is in a parameter the essay on leaps fitted and then put down. A walk with no walls whose central tendency reproduces the post-skip reversal rate has a range that grows logarithmically — six semitones at eight notes, twelve at thirty, eighteen at a hundred and twenty — so across every length a tune plausibly has, the span is between an octave and a fifteenth.
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.
The repeat that is not in the notes
Eight earlier essays compare bars by writing each one as a bag of pitch classes and taking a cosine. Nothing chose that encoding — the first used it and the other seven inherited it. Encode the same six schemes four other ways and one of the three findings survives untouched, one survives with different numbers, and one turns out to have been a statement about the encoding all along: the boundary operator finds none of the section edges in three schemes as a bag of pitch classes and every one of them as tonic, subdominant and dominant.
What the onsets left out
Eight essays induce a metre from a list of ones and zeros, and every failure they recorded was argued about as a failure of the rules. Two of the three are not. Note length is already in that list and the scoring throws it away: put it back and the son clave's two-way tie resolves to the notated downbeat. But the groove with its beat removed cannot be repaired by any cue at any strength, and the reason is arithmetic rather than empirical — the true phase has no onset on any of its strong positions, so there is no credit for a cue to multiply and its line is exactly flat.