Let’s start with music again – I have added Fur Elise to my piano practice in the morning. Such sheer unadulterated joy. A free tour through the mind of a genius. But more than that. It’s just being in the presence of “music”. Where the hell does it come from? Such perfection. Such purity. If only my literary skills were up to the task.
On arriving in the office (and there is a connection here) I was greeted by an email from a musicologist at Durham University. He had heard about the reissue of my “record that can change every time you play it” (I am not sure how, as it has not even been announced on these pages) and asked my views about algorithmic composition. On a different day, it is possible I might have replied with more enthusiasm (and, as I’m sure we all know, algorithmic composition has a long history unconnected with its present association with computer generation)– but after being so close to perfection, it seemed unthinkable - like switching Rembrandt for childish daubings.
So the reply was as follows:
“The quick answer to your question over algorithmic composition is that this is not my primary interest. Sadly this has yet to excite me.
The genesis of the "recording that can change" lies in an effort to improve the recording techniques for capturing music. Until the advent of recording, a piece of music was different, however subtly, every time it was played. Recording changed that. We now have a single performance frozen in time. Identical every time you hear it. Anyone involved with music, as you are, will know that this is a travesty, robbing music of part of its magic.
I have therefore been at the forefront of trying to find ways to unlock this process, and to free music once again.
The original "song that can change" was done in a pre digital, pre Internet age and simply used multi groove vinyl to give the effect of performance. There were four subtly different performances and you never knew which one you were hearing.
At the turn of the century, I founded a technology company in Seattle, which built upon "direct music" (a technology bought and later dumped by Microsoft) which enabled us to take this further. The main commercial use of this technology was in allowing ever-changing music to be "composed" to accompany video games sequences of unknown and varying length - my own interest remained in using it to create a subtly changing recording of an existing composition - freeing the music
Thank you for your interest..." etc etc.
And that remains my position – I will gladly swap all the computer generated music in the world for a system that will allow me to hear new, wonderful and different performances of Fur Elise each time I press play (which is not the same as having a large iTunes collection and putting it on random play).
And yes, I realise that all the above is slightly at odds with my enduring passion for soundscapes.
"Listening is a craft.
Hearing is an art."
