Theme

Where the ends are

A tube stopped at one end has only odd partials, and it would have them if it were made of glass. A membrane's modes are Bessel zeros and a string's are whole numbers, and neither fact is about the material. The boundary conditions decide the sound; everything else is detail.
What a 60 cm tube supports, by how its ends are closed. The first 6 modes of an open cylinder and a stopped cylinder, all of the same acoustic length. An open tube supports every whole multiple of the fundamental and reaches the second mode an octave up. A cylinder stopped at one end supports only the odd multiples and reaches its second mode 1902 cents up, which is a twelfth. Its fundamental is also an octave below the others, because it fits a quarter of a wavelength where they fit a half. Instruments and their design

A tube that skips every other partial

Stop one end of a cylinder and half its modes vanish. That single fact about where the pressure has to be decides that a clarinet sounds hollow, that it plays an octave below its length suggests, and that it must cover nineteen semitones with fingers before it can overblow — while every other woodwind covers twelve.

What a 60 cm tube supports, by how its ends are closed. The first 6 modes of a stopped cylinder and a cone, all of the same acoustic length. A cone supports every whole multiple of the fundamental and reaches the second mode an octave up. A cylinder stopped at one end supports only the odd multiples and reaches its second mode 1902 cents up, which is a twelfth. Its fundamental is also an octave below the others, because it fits a quarter of a wavelength where they fit a half. Instruments and their design

A cone is not a cylinder

A saxophone has a reed at a closed end, exactly as a clarinet does, and it overblows at the octave rather than the twelfth. If the previous essay's argument were about reeds that would refute it. It is about geometry, and a cone closed at its apex has the complete harmonic series for a reason that takes one line of algebra and is genuinely surprising.

The end correction, for a bore of radius 7.5 mm. How flat a tube sounds against what its physical length alone would predict, because the wave carries on past the opening before it turns round. The correction is 4.6 mm at every note — Levine and Schwinger's 0.6133 times the radius for an unflanged end — and the error it causes is 13 cents on a 60 cm sounding length and 52 cents on 15 cm. It is the same millimetres in both cases. Instruments and their design

The tube ends after it ends

A wave does not turn round at the opening. It carries on into the room for about six-tenths of the bore radius and reflects there, so every tube is acoustically longer than it is. The correction is a fixed number of millimetres against a wavelength that halves every octave — a rounding error at the bottom of an instrument's range and most of a semitone at the top.

Where each family's tone-hole lattice stops reflecting. The cutoff frequency of an open tone-hole lattice, from Benade's formula, for four woodwind geometries: clarinet 1824 Hz, oboe 2990 Hz, flute 1690 Hz, bassoon 506 Hz. Below its cutoff a note's wave turns round at the first open hole and the instrument is a tube of that length; above it the wave passes through the whole lattice and radiates from the far end, so the upper part of every note's spectrum leaves the instrument from the same place whichever note is fingered. That is what gives a family one recognisable voice across its range. Instruments and their design

Above a certain note the holes stop working

A row of open tone holes reflects the wave and makes the tube shorter — up to a frequency. Above it the wave runs straight past the whole lattice and leaves from the bell, so the top of every note's spectrum radiates from the same place whichever note is fingered. That cutoff is computable, it differs by family, and it is most of what makes an oboe sound like an oboe.

A string struck at one 7th of its length. The amplitude of each partial of an ideal string excited at 0.1429 of its length. The mode shape is a sine, so a partial with a node at the excitation point cannot be set moving at all: partials 7, 14 are silent here. The envelope over the rest is one over n, a struck string's. Instruments and their design

Where the hammer lands

Strike a string at exactly one over n and the nth partial is silent, because the hammer has landed on that mode's node and cannot move it. A piano's hammers strike between a seventh and a ninth of the way along, which puts the seventh partial — the most dissonant member of the series — at or near a null. That is a design decision made in wood, and it takes one line of trigonometry.

Helmholtz motion, bowed at 9% of the way from the bridge. Above: the string at 5 instants of one period. It is two straight lines meeting at a corner, and the corner travels round the string rather than the string swinging. Below: the resulting force on the bridge, a sawtooth whose two segments are in the ratio 0.09 to 0.91 — the bow's own position. A sawtooth contains every harmonic at exactly one over n, so the spectrum barely changes with bow position even though the waveform plainly does. Instruments and their design

The bow makes a corner

A bowed string is not a string swinging. It is two straight lines meeting at a single sharp corner that travels round the string once per period, triggering the slip that keeps it going. The force on the bridge is therefore a sawtooth, and a sawtooth is every harmonic at exactly one over n — which is why a bowed string is the most nearly perfect harmonic series in the orchestra.

A bell tuned to 294 Hz, and the note it is heard at. The partials of a well-tuned church bell, as ratios to the prime, with the three that imply the strike note marked. The nominal, twelfth and double octave sit at 2, 3 and 4, which is a harmonic series on 1 — so they imply a fundamental at 294 Hz, an octave below the loudest partial the bell has. The tierce at 1.2 is a MINOR third above the prime, which is why a bell has a minor quality by construction rather than by choice. Instruments and their design

A bell has no fundamental

The note a listener names when a church bell is struck is not any partial the bell has. Its nominal, twelfth and double octave sit at 2, 3 and 4 times the prime, which is a harmonic series on a pitch an octave below the loudest thing in the sound — and that pitch is supplied by the listener. Founders have been tuning it by ear since the fifteenth century.

What is struck, and where its partials land. Partial ratios for an ideal string, an ideal membrane, a kettledrum, drawn on a logarithmic axis so that a whole-number ratio is a fixed distance from the last. An ideal string: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. An ideal membrane: 1, 1.59, 2.14, 2.29, 2.65, 2.92. A kettledrum: 1, 1.50, 1.99, 2.44, 2.89. The membrane's are Bessel zeros — a derivation, and they land nowhere near the whole numbers. The kettledrum's have been pulled toward 2 : 3 : 4 : 5 by the enclosed air, on a fundamental an octave below the lowest partial present. Instruments and their design

What a drum is doing instead

An ideal membrane's modes are zeros of Bessel functions — 1, 1.59, 2.14, 2.30 — which support no common fundamental, so a drum rings without a note. A timpani is that problem solved — the kettle's air and the radiation load drag four modes onto 1, 1.5, 2, 2.5, and the pitch a timpanist tunes is the fundamental those four imply and none of them is.

A bowed string on 196 Hz, through a violin body. The source is a sawtooth at one over n; the filter is the body's measured response, with A0 at 275 Hz, B1− at 460 Hz, B1+ at 540 Hz, bridge hill at 2500 Hz. What is radiated is their product, drawn as the bars. The resonances stay where they are when the note changes, exactly as a vowel's formants do — which is why an instrument has a voice rather than a tone, and why the same argument that identifies a vowel identifies a violin. The body frequencies are measured means over full-size instruments rather than computed from a plate. Timbre and acoustics

The body is the filter

A violin string radiates almost nothing. What reaches a room is the string's sawtooth multiplied by the body's response, and that response is a comb of measured resonances that stays put while the note moves. It is the same arithmetic that identifies a vowel, on wood instead of a mouth — which is why an instrument has a voice rather than a tone.

Where each frequency goes, from a source 18 cm across. Polar response of a circular radiator of radius 9 cm at 200 Hz (ka = 0.3), 800 Hz (ka = 1.3), 2000 Hz (ka = 3.3), 5000 Hz (ka = 8.2). Zero degrees is straight ahead. The low frequency is a circle — it goes everywhere — and the high one is a narrow lobe with nulls either side of it, so a listener off to the side hears the same note with its top missing. Timbre and acoustics

An instrument points

A source radiates evenly while it is small compared with the wavelength and beams once it is not, and the crossover is one number. So the same instrument is omnidirectional in its bottom octave and a searchlight in its top one — which means its spectrum depends on where the listener is standing, and a microphone position is a choice about what the instrument sounds like.

Three spectra, and where each one's consonances fall. The positions of the roughness minima for 3 partial sets, over 12 semitones from the same fundamental, found by scanning each curve rather than by marking them. A harmonic tone — 498 cents at 3.1 per cent prominence, 702 cents at 37.1 per cent prominence, 884 cents at 6.2 per cent prominence. Partials stretched by 2.1 per octave — 533 cents at 3.7 per cent prominence, 751 cents at 40.1 per cent prominence, 947 cents at 7.3 per cent prominence. A bar's partials — 1, 2.76, 5.40, 8.93 — 694 cents at 5.6 per cent prominence, 870 cents at 14.2 per cent prominence, 982 cents at 1.0 per cent prominence, 1166 cents at 14.7 per cent prominence. The minima are computed by the same well-finder the dissonance curve uses, which requires a minimum to have one per cent of the curve's range on both sides of it before it counts. Intervals and chords

A spectrum chooses its own scale

The roughness curve's dips are always described as landing on the small whole numbers. They do not land on numbers. They land where partials coincide, and stretching a spectrum by seven per cent moves every one of them by exactly seven per cent — so the scale a set of intervals belongs to is a property of the instrument's spectrum rather than of arithmetic.

Six reverberation times for one room. Sabine's arithmetic evaluated in each octave band from the published absorption coefficients of the surfaces. a large stone church runs from 6.3 seconds at 125 Hz to 2.4 at 4 kHz — a bass ratio of 1.38, where concert halls are specified between 1.1 and 1.25. Timbre and acoustics

A room does not decay evenly

Sabine's arithmetic gives one number and absorption is a strong function of frequency, so a room has six reverberation times rather than one. A stone church rings for 6.3 seconds at 125 hertz and 2.4 at 4 kilohertz, which means a chord left in it does not fade — it changes shape, losing its top before it loses its bottom, and arriving at the listener as a different sonority from the one played.

thirty-two-bar AABA, as a strip of time. thirty-two-bar AABA laid out one cell per bar, coloured by section, with the roman numeral in each bar. the A section's turnaround is the ii-V every variant keeps; the bridge is a chain of applied dominants. At 108 beats a minute in 4/4 the whole of it lasts 71 seconds. Cut into 4 repeat units of 8 bars, 3 pairs of units agree on more than 50 per cent of their bars. 2 of them are not identical, and 2 of those 2 differ in a run of bars ending at the last bar of the unit; the changed bars are marked in orange. Form and structure

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.

Every triad, by how far it is from G7. All 24 chords ranked by the smallest total motion that takes G7 onto each, every note of the target sounded and one voice doubled where the sizes differ. The spread is narrow — 2 semitones at the nearest and 6 at the furthest — and the ranking is flat in the middle: 12 chords tie at four semitones. Harmony and voice leading

The resolution the metric cannot find

Rank every triad by how far its voices are from the dominant seventh and the tonic is not at the minimum. It sits in a twelve-way tie in the middle, the chord a deceptive cadence goes to is the furthest away of all twenty-four, and the two nearest are chords no cadence ever uses. What selects the two resolutions is not a distance — it is a direction, and it picks out exactly two triads from the twenty-four.

What 2 partials imply, and how many answers there are. The partials are at 32.7, 49.0 Hz. Each row is a harmonic series they are consistent with to within 30 cents: the filled dots are the partials in their assigned slots and the open dots are slots the series predicts that nothing occupies. There are 5 such series with harmonic numbers up to 16, the best fitting them to 1.4 cents with a fundamental of 16.34 Hz and no unoccupied slot. The rest sit at one half, one third, one quarter, one fifth of it and their arithmetic is exactly as exact; what separates them is the count of empty slots, which is why a residue pitch built from few partials is reported an octave out by a minority of listeners and not by the rest. Instruments and their design

Two pipes for a note neither makes

The resultant stop sounds a sixteen-foot pipe and a ten-and-two-thirds-foot pipe and asks the listener for a thirty-two-foot note. It is the missing fundamental built on purpose from the fewest partials that can imply anything — and counting how many fundamentals two partials actually imply is the arithmetic behind three centuries of builders disagreeing about whether it works.

A tracker following a tempo that will not stay still. The tracker's error as a fraction of a beat, against beat number, for 3 rates of tempo change with a period-correction gain of 0.2. It settles at 0.025 of a beat behind at 0.5 per cent a beat, 0.092 of a beat behind at 2.0 per cent a beat, 0.206 of a beat behind at 5.0 per cent a beat. It does not lose the beat; it lags, by very nearly the rate divided by the period-correction gain, and the lag reaches a quarter of a beat at 6.3 per cent a beat — at which point the tracker is nearer the wrong onset than the right one. Form and structure

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.

The flow through the larynx, over two periods of a 110 Hz note. Volume flow against time, in Rosenberg's two-half-cosine model of the glottal pulse — a slow opening, a faster closing, and a closed phase during which no air passes at all. M1 — chest is open for 50 per cent of each period and opens 2.4 times as slowly as it closes. Nothing here is a displacement: the folds are a valve on a steady stream of air, and the flat stretches are the moments they are shut. At 110 Hz each period lasts 9.1 milliseconds, of which 4.5 is silence. Instruments and their design

The other instrument with a reed

The folds do not vibrate the way a string does. They open and shut across a steady stream of air, once per period, and what leaves the larynx is a train of flow pulses with a closed phase in it. Everything said about the voice's tone is a statement about the shape of that pulse — and the shape has two numbers in it.

Two mechanisms, the notes both of them make, and the seam. The frequency range of each laryngeal mechanism for an adult male voice, on a logarithmic axis, with the band both can produce shaded. M1 — chest runs 82–349 Hz and M2 — falsetto runs 220–698 Hz, so 799 cents of the range — 8.0 semitones — can be sung either way. The two dots inside that band are the measured signature that this is a bifurcation rather than a threshold: the change upward happens at 330 Hz and the change downward at 294 Hz, 200 cents lower. A threshold is crossed at the same place in both directions and this is not. Instruments and their design

Two mechanisms, and the seam between them

Every singer has a place in the range where the voice changes character, and eight semitones of it can be produced either way. The measurement that settles what kind of a place it is takes ten seconds: the change upward happens two hundred cents higher than the change downward, and a threshold cannot do that.

A reed that shuts at 5000 pascals, and the air it lets through. Volume flow through the reed channel against the pressure across it, in the quasi-static model: Bernoulli flow through an opening that closes linearly with pressure. The flow peaks at 1667 pascals — exactly a third of the closing pressure, for any reed, because that is where the two effects balance — and it is 0.18 litres a second there. Everything to the right of that peak is the argument: the flow falls as the player blows harder, from 0.18 to 0.05 litres a second by 4500 pascals, and a resistance that behaves that way supplies energy instead of taking it. There is no reed inertia in this model, so it cannot squeak. Instruments and their design

The reed is a valve, not a vibrator

Three essays here have said that a clarinet's reed does not choose the note, and none of them said what it does instead. It chops a steady stream of air, and past a third of the pressure that closes it the flow falls as the player blows harder — a resistance with the wrong sign, which is the only thing in the instrument capable of putting energy into an oscillation that is otherwise losing it.

What gets out of an opening, for 4 openings. The fraction of the wave's energy radiated at an open end against frequency, in the baffled-piston model — the radiation resistance of a circular piston, normalised to the tube's own impedance. Each curve runs from nothing at the bottom, where the opening is far smaller than a wavelength and the wave simply turns round, to everything above ka ≈ 2. Half the energy leaves at 6364 Hz for a flute's embouchure end (radius 10 mm), 2015 Hz for a clarinet's bell (radius 30 mm), 975 Hz for a trumpet's bell (radius 62 mm), 403 Hz for a horn's bell (radius 150 mm). The crossover goes as one over the radius, so the widest and narrowest here are 15.8 times apart in frequency. The same number decides how strongly the tube resonates and how much sound it makes, which is why a bell cannot brighten an instrument without also weakening its own resonances. Timbre and acoustics

The bell decides what gets out

A tube resonates because the wave turns round at the open end, and it is audible because some of the wave does not. Those are the same number with opposite signs. One quantity — the size of the opening against a wavelength — decides how loud an instrument is, how bright it is and how directional it is, and a bell moves the boundary rather than removing it.

A constant bow force cannot start a note. Schelleng's minimum and maximum bow force, evaluated at the speed the bow has after one period rather than at the speed the note will be sustained at. Both bounds are proportional to bow speed and the speed after one period is the acceleration divided by the frequency, so both are proportional to acceleration and the region is a wedge through the origin. Its width as a ratio is 9.0 to 1 at every acceleration — the attack is not a narrower window than the sustain, it is the same window somewhere else. A fixed force, drawn here at 0.02, is inside it at one acceleration, about 0.18, which is why the force has to rise with the speed and why beginning a note is a trajectory through this plane rather than a point in it. Instruments and their design

The note has to start somewhere

Schelleng's diagram says how hard a bow may press at a given distance from the bridge for a steady tone to be possible. It is a map of a note that is already sounding, and it contains no information whatever about how to begin one. Read the same inequality at the speed the bow has after a single period rather than at the speed it will settle to and the admissible region turns out to be a wedge through the origin — same width as a ratio, a hundred and ninety-six times lower in force. A constant bow pressure is inside it for one instant of the attack and outside it for the rest.

Where A has been. Documented pitch standards and surviving instruments, plotted as cents from A415. The extremes are 392 Hz and 465 Hz, which is 296 cents apart — 3.0 semitones, close enough to a minor third that a piece written at one and played at the other is in a different key. Nothing here is a preference; each is a decision somebody recorded. Pitch and tuning

The note that moved by a minor third

A has been anywhere between 392 and 465 hertz in the surviving record, which is 296 cents — a minor third short of six. The usual conclusion is that absolute pitch level is a convention and nothing musical depends on it. That is true of everything written on paper and false of everything that happens in a throat or a body: a singer's register break sits at a fixed frequency, so across the historical range it lands three semitones further down the written page. Transposing a piece is not a uniform operation, because the performer does not transpose.

One key, nineteen notes, one right answer. A register hole disturbs a mode in proportion to the square of that mode's pressure at the hole, so the place that spoils the fundamental and leaves the third harmonic alone is the third harmonic's own pressure node — a third of the way down whatever length is sounding. The length changes with every fingering and the key does not move, so the two curves cross at one note. At A3 the key sits almost exactly on the node and the twelfth speaks cleanly; at A♭4 it is at 62 per cent of the tube and disturbs the third harmonic by 96 per cent of what an antinode would, which is the throat of the instrument and is exactly where players say the notes are worst. Instruments and their design

The hole that spoils a note

A tone hole shortens the tube. A register hole does the opposite job: it is small enough to shorten nothing and is placed where it will wreck the fundamental's resonance and leave the third harmonic's alone, so the note jumps a twelfth instead of retuning. The place that does both is a pressure node of the harmonic being kept — a third of the way along whatever length is sounding — and the length changes with every fingering while the key does not. One key is at the right place for exactly one note, and the note it is worst for is in the throat of the instrument, which is where players say the instrument is worst.

The boundaries that survive each amount of smoothing. The local boundary strengths of Twinkle, twinkle read at every scale: the curve is smoothed with a Gaussian of the width on the horizontal axis and the peaks that survive are counted. Small scales give 11 boundaries and large ones give one, and the notation marks 5. The level with that many falls at a width of 2, where the model finds 100 per cent of the notated boundaries and 100 per cent of what it finds is notated — a comparison with no threshold in it, which is what the scale parameter buys. Form and structure

A boundary at a stated level

A boundary detector run over three tunes agreed with the notation on one and barely at all on another, and left two things owing: a version with a scale parameter, and a version run on performance timings. Both are paid here, and they pay differently — the scale removes a free parameter from the comparison and does not rescue the hard case, while two per cent of rubato does.

One pair, 12 beat rates. Two notes at 220 hertz, 15 cents apart, drawn as the beat rate between each pair of partials. The fundamentals beat at 1.91 hertz and the k-th partials at k times that, so the series of rates is a straight line and it crosses 15 hertz at the 8th partial. Below the line the fluctuation is counted; above it the same physical fluctuation is heard as roughness. 1 per cent of this spectrum's energy is on the roughness side. The bars are drawn at each partial's own amplitude, so a spectrum with little energy high up crosses the line where nothing is listening. Pitch and tuning

Every partial beats at its own rate

Five earlier essays have drawn one beat rate per figure, and every one of them is the rate between two fundamentals. Two real notes beat between all of their partials at once, the k-th pair beats k times as fast, and somewhere up the spectrum the rate passes the point at which a beat stops being a beat — so a chorused note is a beat at the bottom of itself and a roughness at the top, simultaneously, with a crossover partial that is arithmetic.

Where a room stops sending the two ears the same sound. The correlation between the two ears' signals against frequency, for a seat 15 metres from the source in a 15,000 cubic metre room with a 2 second reverberation time. The pale curve is the diffuse field alone — sin(kd)/(kd) for an ear separation of 17.5 centimetres, which first crosses zero at 980 hertz. The heavy curve adds the direct sound, which is coherent and lifts the whole thing by an amount the direct-to-reverberant ratio sets. At 125 hertz the coherence is 0.98 and at 1000 it is 0.16. Perception and the listener

Where the two ears stop agreeing

A room sends both ears versions of the same sound, alike at low frequencies and increasingly unlike at high ones. Where they stop resembling each other is 980 hertz, and it is set by the 17.5 centimetres between the ears rather than by anything about the room — which is within a quarter of a frequency found earlier for a completely different reason. One minus that correlation is spaciousness, and it is computable from a room's own reverberation.

What a hand in the bell buys, and what it costs. How far the instrument flattens and how much radiation it loses, against the share of the bell's mouth the hand blocks, for an F horn's 15 centimetre mouth on a 3.7 metre acoustic length. The two curves are the same aperture radius read twice: a narrower mouth adds inertance, which lengthens the tube, and is acoustically smaller, which stops radiating. The mark is the 25.6 cents left owed earlier on the eleventh partial — it needs 62 per cent of the mouth blocked and costs 3.8 decibels of radiated power. Fully stopping is a semitone and nine decibels. Pitch and tuning

The hand that changes the bore

A conjecture refuted here left a question with a number on it: the natural trumpet's eleventh partial is 48.7 cents flat, the lips can move it 23.1, and 25.6 cents are owed by something that is not an embouchure. There is exactly one thing a player can change about the bore while playing, and putting the hand in the bell buys those 25.6 cents at a cost of 3.8 decibels — because the aperture that tunes the instrument is the aperture that radiates it.

Every modern bell puts the boundary at the same partial. For each brass instrument, the partial at which its bell stops turning the wave round — the frequency at which half the energy escapes at the mouth, divided by the tube's own fundamental. The five modern instruments land between partial 8.4 and partial 10.2 despite tube lengths differing by a factor of four, because a bell is scaled with its instrument. The natural trumpet of the baroque, whose bell is small and whose tube is long, puts it at partial 17.2. Intervals and chords

The fourth top is the maker's

The series has three tops and all three are the ear's: where consecutive partials stop being resolved, where their spacing falls below a semitone, and where it falls below what the ear can hear at all. The fourth is how far up a player can go, and it is the only one somebody chose. Every modern brass bell puts the boundary at about the ninth partial across a family whose tubes differ by a factor of four — and the baroque natural trumpet, whose bell is small, puts it at the seventeenth, which is exactly the top of the clarino register.

4 bores of one length, and the series each supports. cylinder, cone, exponential horn, Bessel horn — every one of them 148 cm long, 5.5 mm at the throat and 62 mm at the mouth, so the only thing that differs is the shape between the two. Beside each is the series of resonances Webster's equation gives it, and the number is how far that series is from evenly spaced, in cents. cylinder: 0.0 cents, with each mode sitting at minus 0.50 of a spacing off a whole multiple; cone: 9.6 cents, with each mode sitting at minus 0.12 of a spacing off a whole multiple; exponential horn: 22.8 cents, with each mode sitting at minus 0.16 of a spacing off a whole multiple; Bessel horn: 3.7 cents, with each mode sitting at minus 0.11 of a spacing off a whole multiple. Instruments and their design

Only two shapes make a series

A tube's length sets where its modes are and its shape sets whether they are a series at all — and of every shape a maker could choose, exactly two give evenly spaced modes. Neither of them is the shape of a trumpet. Webster's equation says how far the others miss by, and the answer is a quarter of a semitone for the obvious ones and four cents for the family brass bells actually belong to.

What a trumpet mouthpiece does to the series. Each bore's modes before a mouthpiece is fitted and after, on the axis that says which harmonic each mode is: zero means the m-th mode sits at m times the spacing and is the m-th harmonic. Every shape starts near -0.14 and ends near 0.05. The cup holds 3.0 millilitres against a throat 3.7 mm across and pops at 642 hertz. What does not improve is the regularity: the spacing stays as uneven as the flare left it. Timbre and acoustics

What the mouthpiece is actually for

A cup and a throat look like a comfort fitting and are a component. Put a real one on the front of a real bore in the horn equation and the whole mode series slides sideways by about a seventh of its own spacing — which is exactly the distance between a series whose second resonance is 1.85 times the spacing and one whose second resonance is the second harmonic. The flare decides whether the modes are evenly spaced; the mouthpiece decides which harmonic each one is.

cylinder and Bessel flare: the length each mode behaves as though it has. Each mode's own acoustic length, m·c over twice its frequency, for a bore 148 cm long. A cylinder would give one number repeated. This gives 164 cm at the second mode and 154 at the 8th — a spread of 10.1 centimetres, or 110 cents, because a flare's end correction is a length that shrinks as the note rises. The first mode is off the top of this axis and is not a mode a player uses. Pitch and tuning

A horn has one length per partial

Every tube until now has had an acoustic length: its physical length plus a correction for the wave carrying on past the opening. A flaring bore does not have one. Its second mode behaves as though the tube were 164 centimetres long and its eighth as though it were 154, and the ten centimetres between them are the same physical fact — a fixed correction against a shrinking wavelength — arriving as a hundred cents.

The hand closing, and the note it is holding. The fourth resonance of a 370 cm horn against how much of the bore the hand occludes, at 97 per cent of the way along where the radius is 36 mm. Nothing much happens for the first ninety per cent. The note then falls to -401 cents — most of a fourth — over the next few, and between 99.5 and 99.90 per cent it jumps to 96 cents SHARP, because the lowest resonance has left the bottom of the range and every mode has taken the place of the one below it. The series' ratios are unchanged across the jump. Pitch and tuning

The hand goes in, and the note jumps

A horn player's hand closes the bell and the pitch falls — 19 cents, then 55, then 132, then four hundred, accelerating the whole way. Then, in the last half per cent of closure, it stops falling and lands a semitone above where it started. An earlier essay guessed the mechanism was the boundary condition changing kind and the series going odd-only. It is not. The series never changes at all.

The first five peaks, followed as the hand closes. Each line is one member of the series, tracked by its rank rather than by its frequency, and each dot's size is that peak's height. The lowest peak falls from 38 hertz to 34 as the hand closes and then jumps to 45, which is the renumbering computed earlier: past the wall the series is one member shorter at the bottom and every peak has taken the place of the one below it. The dots shrink through the middle of the travel and grow again at the far end, so the transition costs the player support as well as pitch — and the cost is temporary, which is why a fully stopped horn is a usable instrument and a nearly stopped one is not. Pitch and tuning

A resonance has a strength as well as a frequency

What eleven earlier essays drew is a row of frequencies, because the solver behind it has no losses and a lossless resonance has no width. Put the losses in and every one of them acquires a height and a Q — and the hand closing a horn's bell turns out to take away nine and a half per cent of the instrument's total support before giving all of it back, in a window a few per cent wide where the horn is genuinely hard to play.

Up a trumpet, the two clocks disagree. Every impedance peak of a trumpet, with the settling time each implies. The Q rises up the ladder and so does the frequency, and the settling time is their ratio — so in milliseconds the wait falls from 153 at the C♯2 to 24 at the B5, while in periods it rises from 11 to 24. Both curves are monotone and they point opposite ways, which means a player going up the instrument gets notes that arrive sooner and take longer in their own terms. Nothing here is a measurement of an instrument: it is the transmission-line solve of a trumpet-shaped bore, whose peak Qs are sensitive to how finely the sweep is sampled at about five per cent. Pitch and tuning

The higher note speaks sooner and takes longer

Up a brass instrument the settling time in milliseconds falls by a factor of seven and the settling time in periods rises by a factor of three. Both curves are read off the same impedance sweep, both are monotone over most of the compass, and they point in opposite directions — so the slowest note of the instrument depends entirely on which clock is used to time it.

One vent on a cone, over the notes it has to serve. A cone's modes are a full harmonic series, so the mode a register vent has to keep is the octave rather than the twelfth, and its pressure node sits at half the sounding length measured from the virtual apex. The apex is a fixed point of the instrument and the bell end is not, so every fingering moves the ideal position and there is one hole. The upper line is how much the vent spoils the fundamental, which is what it is for; the lower is how much it damages the octave, which is the cost. Their ratio runs from 451.2 at F♯4 down to 1.9 at B♭3 — a factor of 235 across a single register. The vent is placed at 37 per cent of the longest sounding length, which is where the worst fingering is least badly served. Instruments and their design

The vent a cone cannot place

A clarinet's register key has to spoil a fundamental and leave a twelfth. A saxophone's has to spoil a fundamental and leave an octave, whose pressure node sits at half the sounding length from the virtual apex — and the apex is a fixed point while the bell end is not. Over one register the ideal position moves by a factor of two, and one hole is right for one note.

A woodwind cannot be pulled to a new standard. Every earlier figure computes strings, because a string's tension and gauge give a closed-form scaling law. A wind instrument does not have one, and this is why. To move from 440 to 415 hertz the player pulls out 11.7 millimetres at the joint, which lengthens the sounding tube of every fingering by the same absolute amount — so the interval each note drops is a fixed length against a shrinking one, exactly the shape of an end correction. The tuning note lands where it should and nothing else does: D3 is 67 cents sharp of where it belongs and G5 is 75 flat, a spread of 142 cents across the compass. A rebuilt instrument has no such problem — scale every length by one ratio and every mode moves by the same interval, and the tone-hole lattice cutoff moves with it, from 1766 hertz to 1666, which is 101 cents and therefore the same instrument transposed. That is the difference between an afternoon and a year. Pitch and tuning

A woodwind cannot be pulled to a new standard

Every earlier essay computes strings, because a string has a closed-form scaling law. A wind instrument does not. Pulling out at the joint lengthens every fingering's sounding tube by the same number of millimetres, which is a fixed length against a shrinking one — so the tuning note lands and the compass spreads by 142 cents. The strings could be regauged in an afternoon; the winds had to be rebuilt.

trumpet: what the cup does to every peak. Each impedance peak of a trumpet drawn twice: as the bare bore, and with its own catalogue mouthpiece in front of the throat. The bare heights fall monotonically, from 19.2 at the pedal to 1.96 at the top of the series, which is what a tube does. The fitted heights do not: they fall to 5.4 at E♭6 and rise again to 30.1 at E♭5, giving the instrument a maximum of support in the middle of its compass that the tube alone has nowhere. The dashed line is the mouthpiece's popping frequency, 642 hertz — the note the cup sounds when it is slapped on the palm — and the maximum sits beside it. Instruments and their design

What a cup does to the support

The mouthpiece's job was settled four essays ago and settled in cents: it decides which harmonic each mode is. Measured instead in the currency a player buys one in — how hard the note pushes back, and how narrowly it holds its pitch — the cup does something else entirely. It multiplies the support in the written register by about five, and it puts a ceiling on the instrument that the bell had not put there.

A straight mute where its corks put it, and the annulus left over. The last 220 millimetres of a trumpet's bell, drawn to scale in radius and in length, with a straight mute in it. The mute is a cone 150 mm long running from 35 mm across at the tip to 105 at the base, and it is pushed in until its clearance is the cork's 3.0 mm — which stops it 63 mm inside the rim. The sound goes past it through the annulus between cone and wall, and the narrowest place in that annulus is 393 square millimetres, 59 mm in, which is 27 per cent of the bell's own section there. The lower curve is that annulus turned into the only thing a transmission line cares about: the radius of a round tube of the same area, which falls to 11.2 mm at the throat and recovers to 53 at the rim. Instruments and their design

The resonator at the far end

A cup at the throat owns the top of a brass instrument and puts a ceiling on it. A straight mute is a second closure at the other end of the same air column, and the prediction written down before it was computed was that it would push that ceiling further down. It does the opposite: the ceiling goes from C6 to E♭6, and it goes there by reviving exactly the resonances the cup had killed.

The roughest chord on the page is at C1 and the roughest one heard is at A♭2. One close triad at 70 decibels through 17 registers, with its roughness computed twice: over every partial in the score, and over only the partials that stand above what the chord itself masks. The written curve rises all the way down and its maximum is the lowest register drawn, C1, which is the low-interval rule as it has always been computed here. The delivered curve turns over at A♭2 and falls to nothing below A♭1: a close triad down there is not rough, because it is not arriving as a chord — 1 of its 24 partials survives at C1 and there is almost nothing left to beat against anything. Perception and the listener

A low chord stops being rough by stopping being a chord

Every count of audible partials until now is of a chord at middle C, and the three registers it did compare span C3 to C5 — a third of the range a chord is written in. Move the same triad down and the count collapses: 79 per cent of its partials arrive at E3 and 4 per cent at C1. So the roughest chord on the page is the lowest one and the roughest chord a listener receives is at G2, and where that maximum sits moves nearly two octaves with the dynamic.

Second order and fourth order, from the same sequence of wavenumbers. Frequency against wavenumber for a string and for a bar, with each object's own wavenumbers marked on the axis. A string's equation is second order in space, so frequency goes as wavenumber and the straight line carries its modes at 1, 2, 3, 4. A bar's is fourth order, so frequency goes as the SQUARE of wavenumber and the parabola carries the same kind of sequence to 1, 2.757, 5.404, 8.933. Both sequences of wavenumbers are arithmetic — a string's are the even multiples of π/2L and a bar's the odd ones, except that the first is 3.011 rather than 3 — and squaring an arithmetic sequence is the whole of why one object has a fundamental and the other has none. Every number is derived from the boundary condition; none is measured. Instruments and their design

A bar's partials are the odd numbers, squared

A string's wave equation is second order in space and a bar's is fourth, so a string's frequencies go as its wavenumbers and a bar's go as their squares. Both objects fit a nearly arithmetic sequence of wavenumbers between their ends; squaring one is the whole of why a marimba key has no note in it. The ratios are 1 : 2.756 : 5.404 : 8.933, which are the odd squares over nine, uniformly 12.9 cents flat, and the 12.9 cents is one root that refused to be 3π/2.

What each strike point on a marimba bar excites. The amplitude each of the first 4 partials receives from a strike at each point along the bar, each partial drawn to its own maximum. On a string this comb is |sin nπx| and is periodic, so one strike point silences a whole family; on a bar it is the mode shape itself, whose zeroes are not at rational fractions, so no strike point silences a family. The exception is the middle: every antisymmetric mode is zero there by symmetry, so a centre strike drives partial 1 at 100 per cent of its maximum and partial 2 at nothing at all. The cord's hole at 0.2031 is the mirror case — the fundamental is the partial a strike there cannot reach. Instruments and their design

The four ways a marimba loses what its arch placed

The centre of a bar is a node of every even mode by symmetry, so a stroke there gives the second partial exactly nothing and a mallet's width cannot recover it; five millimetres off centre returns 14 per cent. Add the yarn mallet's 3-millisecond contact, the tube's rigid lid and a decay four times faster than the fundamental's, and four independent mechanisms take the tuned partial 80 decibels below it. On a xylophone the same four come to 24.

The top of a struck note's series falls while the note lasts. The highest partial still above the threshold of hearing, against time, for a note struck at 80 decibels on a fundamental of 130.8 hertz with a 1/n spectrum and a loss rising as the partial number to the power 1. It starts at partial 152 and it is falling from the first millisecond. The horizontal lines are the three tops computed from frequency alone, all of which assume a note that never ends: the note's own top drops past the difference-limen top after 0.03 seconds, past the semitone top after 0.32, and past the resolvable top after 0.64. After that the series is shorter than the ear could have resolved, and what stops it is the clock. Timbre and acoustics

The top that falls while the note lasts

Four earlier essays have asked where the harmonic series stops, and all four answered with a number computed for a tone that never ends. A struck C3 has 152 audible partials at the strike and eight after two-thirds of a second, so the ear's own resolution limit governs the first ten per cent of the note and the decay governs the rest. Playing ten decibels louder buys the ear a further tenth of a second, and doubling its reign would take fifty-eight.

A struck note's two ends are the same for every loss law. The partial levels of a string spectrum struck at 80 decibels on 130.8 hertz, and what is left of it when the fundamental itself falls under the threshold of hearing, for three laws relating a partial's decay rate to its number. The left panel is every one of them: a loss law cannot change the spectrum at the instant of the strike, because no time has passed. The other three are every one of them too: whatever the law, the note ends with nothing above the threshold. So both ends of the slide are shared, and everything that distinguishes an exponent of 0.5 from an exponent of 1 from an exponent of 2 is in the middle. Timbre and acoustics

The middle nobody could have guessed

A struck note has no steady state, only a slide from one spectrum to another — so the question is what the middle carries that the ends do not. The answer is exact rather than statistical: every loss law in the family leaves the strike with the same spectrum and ends in the same silence, so both endpoints carry precisely nothing about which of them it is. The whole difference is 41.3 decibels, and it peaks 0.38 seconds in, seven per cent of the way through the note.

Where a bar and its pipe stop being two things. The two normal modes of a bar and a resonator tuned to it, against how strongly they are coupled, at 262 hertz. Below a threshold the pair has one frequency and two different decay rates — the pale curves, which are the damping splitting rather than the pitch — and above it the frequencies separate. The threshold is exact and it is not a matter of degree: it is where the coupling rate equals half the difference between the two damping rates, which for a bar of Q 197 against a tube of Q 80 is a coupling of 0.37 per cent. A marimba's own coupling is 0.62 per cent — 1.67 times the threshold, and not free: it is fixed by how much louder the tube makes the note, since the coupling that splits the pair is the coupling that carries the energy out. So the resonator model's assumption that the tube is a filter downstream of the bar is wrong at middle C, and it is wrong by less than a factor of two. Instruments and their design

A bar and its pipe are one object

Three earlier essays treat a marimba's resonator as a filter the bar's output passes through, and both of them said in their own caveats that the coupling was not modelled. It is here, and the debt was right: the coupling is 1.67 times the threshold at which the pair acquires two frequencies instead of two decay rates, so the tube is not downstream of anything. Every consequence of that is smaller than the peaks it would have to be seen between.

A 20-decibel crescendo is 27 phons on a bass note and 20 on a high one. The same change of level, from 60 to 80 decibels, converted to loudness at each register through ISO 226's equal-loudness contours rather than at one kilohertz. The heavy curve gives each note a string spectrum, so its partials are converted in their own bands and summed; the pale one is the fundamental alone. On the spectrum-aware curve the crescendo is worth 27.3 phons at C1 and 20.3 at C7. On the fundamental alone it is 77 at C1, which is not a finding but an artefact: a 60-decibel tone at 33 hertz sits 1.8 decibels above the threshold of hearing and is very nearly nothing. The honest correction is the smaller one, and it is still a difference of 7.1 phons across the compass for a mark written in the same ink. Perception and the listener

A subito piano is four seconds longer in the bass

Every loudness figure with time in it converts level to loudness at one kilohertz, and the equal-loudness contours say that no other frequency works that way. Joining the two sorts the published numbers into those that were about the treble and those that were not. Three move a great deal — a twenty-decibel crescendo is worth 27 phons on a bass note and 20 on a high one, and the seven seconds a subito piano takes becomes eleven and a third. Three do not move at all, and the reason they do not is the same reason in every case.

Both notes of a fifth, and the coincidences going out. The highest partial still above the threshold of hearing for each note of a fifth struck at 80 decibels on 130.8 hertz, against time, with a 1/n spectrum and a loss rising as the partial number to the power 1. Both curves come down from off the top of the frame — the lower note starts with 152 partials and the upper with 102, because twenty kilohertz is a ceiling in frequency and not in partial number. The rings are the interval's partial coincidences at the moment they stop existing — successive multiples of one ratio, which go out from the top down: 12:8 at 0.47 s, then 9:6 at 0.64 s, then 6:4 at 1.04 s, then 3:2 at 2.14 s. The lowest, 3:2, is the last, and after it the two notes have no partial in common that either of them can still supply. Timbre and acoustics

A fifth on a piano is not a fifth a second later

Nine essays draw one note in silence, and a listener is given a texture. Put two struck notes an interval apart and consonance comes apart into two quantities that had agreed while nothing moved: the partial coincidence that names the interval outlives the strike in exactly the order common-practice theory ranks its intervals, and the roughness that scores it reorders itself inside a third of a second, with the fifth overtaken by four intervals every treatise calls harsher.

An inversion lasts as long as its outer sixth. The six three-note voicings of a major and a minor triad, each over a bass of C3 struck at 80 decibels, with how long the strongest partial coincidence of each of its three intervals survives the strike. The interval that goes first is marked, and its time is how long the chord keeps the evidence of all its intervals at once. major, root position: major third 5:4 1.26 s, minor third 6:5 1.03 s, fifth 3:2 2.14 s; the chord 1.03 s. major, sixth chord: minor third 6:5 1.04 s, fourth 4:3 1.62 s, minor sixth 8:5 0.74 s; the chord 0.74 s. major, six-four: fourth 4:3 1.60 s, major third 5:4 1.27 s, major sixth 5:3 1.26 s; the chord 1.26 s. minor, root position: minor third 6:5 1.04 s, major third 5:4 1.27 s, fifth 3:2 2.14 s; the chord 1.04 s. minor, sixth chord: major third 5:4 1.26 s, fourth 4:3 1.63 s, major sixth 5:3 1.26 s; the chord 1.26 s. minor, six-four: fourth 4:3 1.60 s, minor third 6:5 1.03 s, minor sixth 8:5 0.74 s; the chord 0.74 s. The major six-four lasts longest and the major sixth chord shortest; every root position is held to its minor third's life. Timbre and acoustics

An inversion lasts as long as its outer sixth

A struck interval keeps the partial coincidence that names it for a time set by its ratio, and a chord is three intervals at once. Voiced over one bass and struck on a piano, a triad keeps the evidence of all three only as long as its weakest one lasts, and for an inversion that is the sixth on the outside: a major sixth lasts as long as a major third, a minor sixth dies first. So the major six-four and the minor sixth chord are the most durable voicings of their triads and the major sixth chord and the minor six-four the least — and unlike a dyad, a triad's inversions keep their order by roughness through almost the whole decay.

A doubled pizzicato gives its note away while it is still the louder. The power of a violin plucked, against a flue pipe holding the same note at 392 hertz, through the first 600 milliseconds of the pluck, with the pluck starting 12 decibels up and its fundamental decaying over 1 second. With each partial losing level in proportion to its number, the composite stops resembling the pluck at 70 ms, when the pluck is still 5.2 decibels the louder. With every partial fading together it would keep the note until 543 ms. The dashed line is the balance at which the steady-state doubling changes owner, minus 20.6 decibels: the release crosses the owner long before its balance gets there, because what hands the note over is the pluck's upper partials going, not its level. Timbre and acoustics

A doubled pizzicato gives its note away early

The attack turns the balance between two players on one note by a few decibels and stops. A pluck does not stop — every partial of it decays, so a pizzicato doubled by a held instrument walks the balance for the whole note, and the expectation was a handover as slow as the decay. It is fast. A one-second pizzicato over a flute loses its note in 70 milliseconds, while it is still five decibels the louder, because what hands the note over is its upper partials going first. A uniform fade would have kept it eight times as long.

How long a doubled pizzicato keeps its note, seat by seat, in two rooms. How long a doubled violin pizzicato on 392 hertz keeps its note against the metres from the players, the pluck starting 12 dB up and decaying over 1 s with a loss exponent of 1. a concert hall, a flue pipe: 1 → 86 ms, 1.5 → 123 ms, 2 → 226 ms, 3 → 359 ms, 5 → 445 ms, 7 → 481 ms, 10 → 506 ms, 15 → 522 ms, 20 → 528 ms, 30 → 532 ms; a concert hall, an oboe: 1 → 52 ms, 1.5 → 55 ms, 2 → 59 ms, 3 → 77 ms, 5 → 149 ms, 7 → 195 ms, 10 → 224 ms, 15 → 242 ms, 20 → 248 ms, 30 → 254 ms; a concert hall, a clarinet: 1 → 44 ms, 1.5 → 45 ms, 2 → 45 ms, 3 → 47 ms, 5 → 53 ms, 7 → 65 ms, 10 → 86 ms, 15 → 105 ms, 20 → 112 ms, 30 → 118 ms; a large stone church, a flue pipe: 1 → 440 ms, 1.5 → 578 ms, 2 → 651 ms, 3 → 728 ms, 5 → 784 ms, 7 → 803 ms, 10 → 814 ms, 15 → 820 ms, 20 → 822 ms, 30 → 824 ms; a large stone church, an oboe: 1 → 56 ms, 1.5 → 65 ms, 2 → 89 ms, 3 → 207 ms, 5 → 281 ms, 7 → 303 ms, 10 → 315 ms, 15 → 322 ms, 20 → 325 ms, 30 → 326 ms; a large stone church, a clarinet: 1 → 44 ms, 1.5 → 43 ms, 2 → 43 ms, 3 → 44 ms, 5 → 53 ms, 7 → 67 ms, 10 → 80 ms, 15 → 89 ms, 20 → 92 ms, 30 → 94 ms. The mid-band critical distance is 5.3 m in a concert hall and 2.3 m in a large stone church. In none of the 60 cases does the note return to the pluck once it has left. Timbre and acoustics

A room keeps a pizzicato from giving its note away

Doubled by a flute, a one-second pizzicato loses its note in 70 milliseconds dry, because its upper partials go first. The question left open was whether a room, whose reverberation keeps those partials alive, gives the note back afterwards. It does not give it back. It stops the note going: ten metres into a concert hall the pluck keeps it for 506 milliseconds, in a stone church for 814, and the room's own uneven decay takes back between a quarter and two fifths of that. In a room the loss law that decided everything dry matters a tenth as much, because the room's decay has become the clock.

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