One envelope, and the three places a listener might be said to hear it
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. 73 of its 73 placements carry sound, built from the same numbers as the drawing, offering these buttons: 2 instruments of voice and lute written on one beat, 33 milliseconds of spread between the first heard and the last, 3 instruments of piano trio written on one beat, 26 milliseconds of spread between the first heard and the last, A 180 ms attack, A 3 ms attack, A 5 ms attack, Accented, and 2 ms early, Accented, and 24 ms early, All 11 notes written on the same beat, each with its own attack — one octave up, to reach a speaker and 29 more.
Called by 11 essays
the blast radius of changing it
A note is heard after it starts
Every rhythm essay until now has treated a note's onset as the moment it happens. It is not: the instant a listener aligns a note with a beat is later than its physical start by an amount the note's own attack decides, and for a sung or bowed note that amount is about thirty milliseconds — the size of the whole quantity six essays on microtiming set out to measure.
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.
Playing louder is playing earlier
An accent has two effects on when its note is heard and neither is a timing decision. A harder-driven instrument has a shorter attack, and a criterion set by the surrounding music is crossed sooner by a bigger rise — so a twelve-decibel accent on a bowed note is heard twenty-four milliseconds early with no change whatever in when the bow was put down. It is also the measurement that tells the two competing models apart.
A low note cannot start on time
Three earlier essays have held the pitch at one value. A note cannot establish an amplitude in less than a few of its own cycles, so the attack has a floor that rises as the pitch falls — 146 milliseconds at the bottom of a piano and three at the top. On an instrument whose action takes eight milliseconds everywhere, that is a forty-three millisecond spread across the keyboard from the period alone, and no player can do anything about it.
Which notes have to be played early
There are three separate contributions to one quantity — the instrument's attack family, the dynamic it is played at, and the note's own period — and every figure so far varies one and holds the others. Added together for a real scoring they do not add: a sforzando low piano note is pitch-limited to a hundred-millisecond attack and the sforzando shortens it back to sixty-five, so flattening the dynamics makes the ensemble's spread larger rather than smaller.
How many bars an ensemble needs
The map of required leads is something nobody tells the players, because the leads are a property of the instruments' attacks. So an ensemble has to find them, and the mechanism is the one the microtiming essays describe: each player hears sounds rather than onsets and moves toward the others. It converges on the map to within a fifth of a millisecond, in five beats, and there is a best correction gain.
A note starts twice
One account computes how long an instrument takes to settle, from its own physics. Another computes how long after its onset a listener places a note, from the shape of its envelope. Both come out in milliseconds and neither has ever been shown the other. Paired on the five instruments they share, the ratio between them spans a factor of sixty-nine and sorts perfectly by mechanism — and the violin is third slowest to settle and the last to be heard.
The passage that separates two players
An ensemble that has learnt where the asynchronies are applies them; one that is listening discovers them. In steady state the two are identical, which is why nobody has separated them. Change the scoring mid-phrase and they are not: one ensemble is wrong by twelve milliseconds for three beats and the other is not wrong at all — and twelve milliseconds is under what a listener notices and far above what a microphone resolves.
Twelve violins are more punctual than one
Every essay until now treats a part as one player, and an orchestral part is a dozen. Sectioning does two things at once and only one of them was expected: it pulls the part's heard moment forward, by four milliseconds against a map spanning twenty-six, and it makes the part's arrival more accurate by very nearly the root of the number of players. So the map of required leads applies to an orchestra better than it applies to a quartet, and the case where it fails is three trumpets rather than fourteen violins.
An attack time is not an attack
Eight earlier essays read a heard moment off an envelope, and every one of them used the same envelope shape without saying so: the source table records one curve for all nine of its families, and the map's own arithmetic does not carry the parameter at all. A published attack time fixes a ten-to-ninety time and nothing else. Under the two other shapes the same measurement admits, every millisecond computed so far doubles — and the constructed passage called inaudible earlier becomes three times a listener's threshold.
The blend arrives before the note does
Nine essays on spectrum draw a steady state, and the strongest cue that two instruments are two instruments is that they do not start together. Two envelopes rising at different rates turn out to be a balance — the same dial an earlier essay swept — so the attack is that dial moved by the clock, and its whole travel is fixed at twenty times the log of the two attack times. It is six decibels for a clarinet with a violin against a crossing twelve to twenty-two decibels out, so one pair in ten changes hands during its own attack, and which one depends on a convention rather than on the instruments.