Key character in Werckmeister III
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. 9 of its 9 placements carry sound, built from the same numbers as the drawing, offering these buttons: A pure major triad, for comparison, C major — the roughest, +13.7¢, C major — the smoothest third, +0.0¢, C major — the smoothest third, +13.7¢, C major — the smoothest third, +3.9¢, C major — the smoothest third, +5.9¢, C♯ major — the roughest, +21.5¢.
Called by 4 essays
the blast radius of changing it
Keys that had characters, and could be measured
Eighteenth-century writers described E flat major as devotional and F sharp major as harsh, and modern readers file it under synaesthesia. On the instruments those writers used, the difference between the two keys was seventeen cents of third, and that is a quantity.
The chord is still major, and that is why temperament works
A major third can be seventeen cents wrong and still be a major third. That tolerance is not a failure of hearing — it is the reason the whole subject of tuning is a discussion rather than a catastrophe. Every temperament ever proposed moves intervals around inside their categories, and the one thing none of them may do is push one across a boundary.
What a temperament cannot do
Add up the twelve major thirds of any keyboard tuning whose chain of fifths closes and the answer is 4,800 cents. Every time, in every system, before a single fifth has been chosen. So no temperament has ever made the average third less wrong than any other one, and four hundred years of argument were about a distribution rather than about accuracy.
The instrument that cannot be moved
A string is regauged and a woodwind is scaled. An organ's pitch is the length of its pipes, and metal can be cut off and cannot be put back — so an organ is a ratchet that only goes sharp. The mechanical answer was to shift the keyboard against the pipes, and its cost is not the transposition. It is that the temperament's key colours rotate out from under the notation, by an amount measured in fifths rather than in semitones.