Beyond twelve — the series
-
A scale is not a set of pitches
Two ragas can have identical pitch sets and be different ragas. Two national theories of one maqam put its third degree thirty-five cents apart. Both facts are fatal to the idea that a mode is a collection of notes, and both are ordinary in the traditions concerned.
-
A scale without an octave, and the spectrum that asks for it
Every scale so far repeats at the 2:1. That looks like a law and it is a consequence — the octave fuses because every partial of the upper note lands on one of the lower. Take a spectrum with no even partials and the 2:1 stops doing that, while the 3:1 starts.
-
The third the model has no opinion about
A neutral third — halfway between major and minor, and a scale degree in most of the music between Morocco and Iran — is nothing at all on an ordinary roughness curve. It becomes a well at 347 cents, which is exactly 11:9, only for a spectrum whose ninth and eleventh partials are at least three times their natural strength. No instrument has that spectrum.
-
Three answers to how finely a pitch can be heard
Two notes one after the other are told apart at about four cents at A440. Whether a melodic interval is in tune is a judgement an order of magnitude coarser. And two notes held together are heard to beat at a third of a cent, because the question is answered by counting rather than by hearing pitch at all. Every equal division ever built sits between the coarsest and the finest.
-
The spectrum that was supposed to explain the gamelan
Run the model that designed the Bohlen–Pierce scale on a bar's partials and it asks for a compressed pseudo-octave at 1166 cents and wells at 694 and 870. A measured slendro's degrees are at 231, 474, 717 and 955, and only one of the four is near anything the model wants. Sweep the partials and a spectrum wanting a 240-cent step can be found — sitting sixty per cent of the way up its own roughness curve, which is what a scale-level test says about the whole comparison.
-
A tuning is not a table of cents
Two instruments of a pair are tuned deliberately apart, and the tuner has to choose between a fixed number of cents and a fixed number of beats — which differ by a factor of sixteen across four octaves and cannot both be held. A list of pitches records the first, cannot record the second, and cannot record at all that there are two instruments.
-
A scale built downward from a fourth
A tetrachord is a bounded span with two free notes inside it, which is a different generator from a chain of fifths and a different object from a subset of an equal division. At the maqam tradition's own quarter-tone resolution the construction admits thirty-six fillings of the fourth and 1,296 octaves built from them; the census here can see six of the first and 2.8 per cent of the second, and one of the octaves it cannot see is an ordinary mode of a living tradition.
-
A degree is where it goes next
The first essay on scales beyond twelve said a mode is not a set and listed four things a set cannot record. This one makes the sharpest of them arithmetic. Specify a mode as an ascent and a descent — which is how a living tradition specifies one — and it becomes a directed graph on its degrees; sixty-three such graphs collapse onto a single pentatonic set, sixty-two of them with an ascent that is not the descent reversed, and every standard measure of a scale returns the same value for all of them.
-
The scale least committed to its own instrument
The essays on scales beyond twelve draw scales without spectra and spectra without scales, and none of them had put a tradition's own degrees through the roughness model. Doing it for six scales and five spectra says the account survives — every tradition lands between the eighth and the twenty-sixth percentile of random scales of its size, and under a pure tone not one of them does. But the scale whose standing moves least when the instrument changes is the gamelan's, at 2.9 percentile points, and the one that moves most is the five-limit diatonic at 17.4. The scale the argument is usually made about is the one it explains least.
-
The smoothness is in the skips
Traditional scales come out smoother than random scales of their size because every pair of their degrees is counted once. Count only the pairs a melody on the scale actually sounds next to each other, and every seven-note scale here is rougher than ninety per cent of random ones, under every spectrum, and under a pure tone as well. The smoothness is carried by the pairs a melody reaches by skipping — its thirds and above all its fifths, which are smoother than all but two random scales in two thousand. Counted by their own ascents and descents, the two ragas that share one set of notes stand in different places at last: Deshkar's skipped Re buys a smoother ascent and costs it the fifths.
-
A scale is committed to how long its instrument rings
A traditional scale's standing on the roughness model moves when the instrument changes, and that movement was read as a commitment to the instrument's spectrum. Weight every pair of notes a melody sounds by how much of the earlier note is still ringing when the later one begins, and the movement grows — the tempered diatonic's by 37 percentile points at a note every 0.6 seconds — but almost none of it is the spectrum. Put four instruments' rings on one spectrum and the scale moves 38.6 points; put four spectra under one ring and it moves 9.4. And the partials that make a fifth smooth are the first to stop sounding.
-
The tempo moves a scale further than the touch
A gamelan is played two ways on the same bars: a saron's are damped as the next is struck and a gendèr's ring over their resonators. That decision moves a slendro's standing among random scales of its size by up to seventeen percentile points, which is real. Over the tempo levels a piece actually moves through it moves by fifty-four — from the twenty-ninth percentile at a fast elaboration to the eighty-third at a slow one. The same five pitches on the same bars are a smoother-than-average scale and a rougher-than-average one, and which depends on how fast they are played.
-
The scale belongs to the ringing instrument
A gamelan plays two instruments on one scale at once — a saron damped at every stroke and a gendèr several times faster with its bars left to ring — and a quarter of the roughness a listener receives falls on pairs that cross between them, which no figure had computed. The cross pairs turn out to be no worse than either stream's own. What decides the scale's standing is the fast part: the ensemble sits at the sixth percentile among random five-note scales and so does the ringing instrument alone, while the damped one alone sits at the ninety-sixth.
-
A wrong bar beats the same on either instrument
The ringing instrument carries a gamelan scale's standing, so a tuning error on it was predicted to cost more than the same error on the damped instrument. Put in the beating the model lacked, and the prediction fails: moved ten cents, a degree costs the same 0.85 summed over the scale on either instrument, because almost all of the cost is the wrong bar beating against the right one on the other instrument, and a beat belongs to both of the bars that make it. Moving a whole instrument costs exactly what its five degrees cost separately, and it takes nothing from the scale's standing.
-
The bar a gamelan can least afford wrong is the one its skeleton lands on
A wrong bar in a gamelan costs what its beating against the other instrument costs, and that depends on how often the music doubles the degree. The obvious place for doubling is where an elaborating part meets the skeleton at the end of each four-stroke unit, so the prediction was that the meeting rule would rank the degrees. It barely does: a part left to ring doubles a degree whenever it sounds it while the other instrument's bar still sounds, and the meetings add three per cent. What ranks the degrees is where the skeleton lands. A skeleton that ends its units on one degree makes that bar three and a half to five times as costly to leave wrong as any other single bar.
-
An elaboration that arrives early makes every goal tone the bar to tune first
A gamelan's bars are costliest to leave out of tune where the skeleton lands, but a mode with three goal tones spread the cost so thinly that a low goal could end up cheaper than a high bar that is never a goal. The rule tested there put the elaborating part on the goal only at the goal stroke. Elaborations in the style reach their goal early and stay on it. Let them arrive seven strokes early and every goal tone costs more than three times the dearest bar that is not a goal; the goal's own cost rises by about half for every few strokes of anticipation, and a whole instrument out of tune becomes dearer too.
-
A gamelan's beating names its goal only if each goal beats at its own rate
When a gamelan's elaborating parts reach a goal tone early, a pair of instruments tuned slightly apart beats on that degree for the strokes before the goal — a swell of shimmer just before each structural stroke, which is exactly where a recognisable event does a slow cycle's clock most good. Whether it does that good depends on whether one goal's swell can be told from another's. Tune every pair to the same beat rate, the practice that keeps a gamelan's shimmer even, and every swell is the same event: it buys a third of what it could. Tune every pair the same number of cents apart and each degree beats at its own rate, fifteen per cent faster than the degree below, and the swells start naming which goal is coming.
-
A gamelan tuner can name the goals for nothing
A pair tuned so that each goal beats at its own rate lets the swells before a gamelan's structural strokes say which goal is coming, and the question left was what that costs in roughness. Held at the same average shimmer, nothing: a constant interval adds one per cent less roughness than an even beat rate, and a rate rising as the square of the pitch adds three per cent less while naming the goals for a far coarser ear. The even shimmer puts its widest pairs on the low degrees, where a cent of detuning costs most.
-
A gamelan's shimmer has to start again at every octave
Within one octave, a gamelan tuner who lets each pair's beat rate rise faster than its pitch names the goal tones and pays nothing in roughness for it. Carried across a real instrument's three octaves, the same rise breaks twice. The steepest rise that keeps every pair beating falls from a power of four to a power of one, and the roughness saving turns into a cost: a rise as the square of the pitch is seven per cent rougher than one rate everywhere. A tuning that gives each degree its middle-octave rate in every octave keeps both the clock and the saving at any compass. The beat rate then names the degree, not the pitch.
-
A degree's three swells are one landmark only if they agree
A gamelan's goal tone is struck in several octaves at once, so the swell of beating that warns of it is three swells. A tuning whose beat rate rises with pitch across the whole compass gives each octave its own rate, and a listener who hears a degree's swells as one event only when their rates agree finds that, at any useful rise, none of them do: every goal becomes a swell of no particular rate and the clock is left exactly where swells that all sound alike leave it. No rise can both name the goals and let their swells agree, since naming needs ten times the power agreeing allows. Repeating the middle octave's rates in every octave does both.
-
A gamelan's shimmer should rise only downward
A gamelan tuner who lets each pair's beat rate follow its pitch saves roughness in the low octave, where the pairs slow, and pays it in the high octave, where they race. Repeating the middle octave's rates only at the goal tones and letting the rest follow the pitch, as the lead proposed, is rougher than repeating everywhere. The tuning that saves is the one that lets the rate follow the pitch below the middle octave and repeats it above — a fifth less roughness at the square — and it keeps the clock only if the low octave does not double the goals.
-
A gamelan's shimmer has no cheaper shape, only a slower one
The tuning that let each pair's beat rate follow its pitch below the middle octave and repeated it above saved a fifth of the roughness — and slowed the ensemble's average shimmer by more than a third while doing it. Held to the shimmer it promised, it is rougher than repeating the middle octave's rates everywhere, and the middle octave's rates simply slowed to the same average are smoother than either. With the average fixed, the cheapest shape runs the other way, and a knee is never cheaper than a step.
-
A gamelan's shimmer can slow to a fifth before its clock notices
Roughness falls steadily as every pair's beating is slowed by one factor, and the listener who times a goal's swell does not object until the shimmer is a fifth of the promised speed. The limit is not how many beats a swell holds — a ten-second step holds eight even there — but the once-a-second boundary below which a beat is waited out rather than counted, and it bites when the second-slowest goal degree crosses it. At the quick tempi where a swell could hold too few beats, the skeleton already carries the clock alone.
-
A goal tone that returns should swell only once
When two of a gamelan cycle's four goal strokes land on the same degree, their swells of beating sound alike, and a listener who hears one cannot tell which goal is coming. Across all 625 ways five degrees can fill four goals, 365 are served better by an elaboration that anticipates fewer goals than four. The repeated pair costs most at slow cycles, can cost more than every swell is worth at moderate ones, and is spared only when its first swell comes straight after the gong.