a major triad, spread by 40 milliseconds
Drawn above with its standard settings, which is almost never how an essay draws it: an essay states the numbers it is arguing about, so the figure a reader meets there is about that argument rather than about the drawing in general. Every option a placement passes is checked against the ones this function actually reads, because an option it does not read is silently ignored and the figure quietly draws what is above instead.
It makes a noise. 8 of its 8 placements carry sound, built from the same numbers as the drawing, offering these buttons: All three together, Spread 150 ms, from the bottom, Spread 150 ms, from the top, Spread 300 ms, from the bottom, Spread 300 ms, from the top, Spread 40 ms, from the bottom, Spread 40 ms, from the top.
Called by 2 essays
the blast radius of changing it
The chord that is not played at once
Every chord until now starts its notes at the same instant, and no figure ever set the asynchrony to anything else. A spread chord is not a defective simultaneity: at forty milliseconds a triad of half-second notes is still eighty-seven per cent simultaneous, so it carries almost all its roughness, and it stops being a chord at all only when the last note arrives after the first has finished. What none of this can explain is the one thing every keyboard player knows — that a chord is rolled upward. The masking asymmetry that ought to explain it is 2.4 decibels at a close voicing, which is not enough.
A loud chord is a smaller chord
Two earlier essays hold the level fixed, and the level decides how much of a chord a listener is given. At thirty decibels twenty of a triad's twenty-four partials stand above what the rest of it masks; at a hundred, nine do. Every roughness figure until now counts partials that are in the score, and a partial the chord masks is not a partial the listener has.