Friday, January 1, 2021

Varieties of Just Intonation, cont.

[Continuation from Varieties of Just Intonation]

Moving between rough and informed idioms

As is the case with all the sub-categories of ratio-based composition outlined in this text, the rough and informed styles of strict style as a 'tuning' represent two ideal ends of a continuous spectrum. Many pieces move seamlessly back and forth between these ends. Nattviol, nattviol is, as we saw above, an example of a piece that sometimes sounds informed and sometimes sounds rough. Another piece in which I explicitly set out to explore the differences between the rough and informed styles is the clavichord suite I Sommarluft, where I based the form of the piece around this difference. In this piece, the different movements constitute an oscillation between the rough and informed styles, with some movements at different ends of this spectrum and other movements in between. When discussing the differences between these styles, this piece is illuminating to look at because, in the movements that exists between the ends of the spectrum, one can try to pinpoint the exact moments where the rough style turns into the informed 

The tuning of I Sommarluft is presented in Figure 15. From this gamut of twelve chromatic pitches, each of the six movements focuses on a different traditional Western diatonic subset such as C minor, D major, and F major. Some of these scales, like A major ["1/1", "9/8", "5/4", "4/3", "3/2", "5/3","15/8"], are highly tunable. This A major set is actually the same gamut that was used in the informed piece Vårbris, porslinsvas, seen in Figure 6. Other scales of I Sommarluft end up sounding less like JI as they use fewer tunable intervals. An example of such a scale is the opening movement's C minor. This scale–["32/27","4/3", "45/32", "128/81", "16/9", "15/8", "135/128"]–is in effect a Pythagorean Aeolian scale based on "32/27" (C) but where the minor third, minor sixth, and minor seventh are all a schisma (32805/32768, 1.95 cents) too wide. When hearing this key in the opening of the suite, there is very little information reaching the audience that they are listening to music in Just Intonation. No intervals except for octaves, fifths, and fourths fuse in periodic entities. The tuning sounds more like a 'temperament' even though no pitches are tempered.

Similar to in Stenskrift, we might gather from listening to the opening movement that the composer took into consideration the characteristics of the 'temperament' (i.e., which intervals rest more and which rest less) when writing the music as nothing strikes the ear as jarring; the phrases and melodies seem to speak in a single voice together with tuning. Apart from this, however, it is not possible to hear any intimate engagement with JI as most pitches lack tunability. The first movement of I Sommarluft therefore clearly fits the rough style of strict style as a 'tuning'. 


Figure 15


The second movement continues in the same way with another untunable scale, F major, and the third movement, titled In Nomine, also begins with mainly untunable chords and intervals; it gives special prominence to the Pythagorean minor third between D ("4/3") and B ("9/8"). A few minutes into the third movement, however, the inclusion of tunable 5-limit pitches ("5/4" and "5/3") to form 5-limit harmonic and melodic intervals transforms the music. At this point, the music starts to sound more like the informed style of strict style as a 'tuning', or even very close to true integrated JI music in D major ["4/3", "3/2", "5/3", "16/9", "1/1", "9/8", "5/4"]. In the third measure of Figure 16, the music is entirely tunable: an initial D and F#- just major third is followed by a C#- and A just minor sixth and then followed by a D as a perfect fifth (3/2) below the A. 


The D major scale of In Nomine differs from the A major scale of Vårbris, porslinsvas  (Figure 6) in that the sixth degree is a Pythagorean sixth (27/16), whereas A major had a just sixth (5/3). In other words, it does not have as many tunable intervals as the A major but is very close. Yet, this difference is what situates this movement between the informed style and the rough style. Many passages, such as the third measure from this section of In Nomine, could be performed by intonating musicians, but the carefree usage of the sixth scale degree, B, still reveals that this music was written for a pre-tuned keyboard. For example, immediately following that tunable third measure, the fourth measure of Figure 16 plays a blatant Pythagorean third (G and B). The G is tunable to the preceding D, but the B would have to have been a B- to be tunable to the preceding notes. Another example of this kind of carefreeness can be seen in the simultaneous attack of the Pythagorean minor third B/D directly following an F#- (wolf-fifth to B) in measure 84 in Figure 16.


Figure 16


The idea behind I Sommarluft was to explore the sounds and affects of the scales that do not sound like JI (e.g. the first movement's C minor) and juxtapose these with the scales that clearly sound like JI (e.g., the fifth's movement's E major), and then shape the piece as a process of going in and out of JI by working with the scales in between (e.g., the third movement's D major). In other words, the artistic idea was to transition between the rough and informed styles of strict style as a 'tuning'One of the subtle results of such an idea is that the music can be said to have two primary tonalities. On the one hand, the tonality is C minor in which the piece begins and ends; when the last movement returns to C minor, it feels like a return to the home tonality. On the other hand, the tuning itself can be said to gravitate towards E major and A major because this is where the instrument is the most resonant and where the most pitches fuse and enforce strong modal centers. We might describe this as the root or tonality inherent in the tuning system itself. The composer can explore these two opposing centers of gravity; on the one hand, there is the gravity set by the musical context (the root of the key established by the composer), and, on the other hand, there is the gravity of the intonation system itself, which leans towards tunability and resonance. This kind of artic idea utilizes the limitations of the keyboard instruments and the fact that it anyway is impossible to tune all different common Western key signatures to 'sound good' with only twelve keys to an octave. The result is a kind of music that would be impossible to realize with intonating instruments.


Summary of the strict styles


Before moving on to the free style, we can summarize what has been said about the strict style so far. We have seen how music in this style is characterized by the usage of small, fixed gamuts. Because of this, the music usually embodies strong affective qualities (like moods, rasa-s, or Stimmung-s). The usage of small gamuts facilitates intonational accuracy, and the composer can therefore be more careless or 'free' in terms of melodic and contrapuntal writing compared to the two other styles we will examine below.


The strict style can be subdivided into two sub-categories: strict style as integrated JI, usually written for intonating instruments and where the music is constructed as a tunable path, and strict style as a 'tuning', usually written for fixed-pitch instruments and where the composer does not consider tunable paths to the same degree. Within the latter sub-category, we can find two different approaches. 


First, there is an informed approach to strict style as a 'tuning'. When this approach is taken, the music is composed in a way so that pitches still audibly retain their harmonic, relational articulation within a tight, tunable matrix. This approach differs from integrated JI in the higher levels of complexity and freedom in harmonic and melodic writing that the automatic intonation of fixed-pitch instruments affords. The informed approach manages to still construct the music as a tunable path for the listener even though it might be too difficult for musicians to actually intonate. 


Secondly, there is a rough approach to strict style as a 'tuning'. When taken to the extreme, pitches in the pieces that takes this approach almost no longer sound as if in JI because the composer neither constructs the series of pitches as tunable paths nor articulates the pitches as belonging to an interconnected, tunable harmonic space. We noted that the rough approach is a similar approach that when applied to intonating instruments leads to microtonal music that uses JI-type intervals. In the rough strict style as a 'tuning', however, the precise, exact tuning facilitates (as the composition unfolds) an emergent tunability that still provides the music with a (sometimes subtle) quality of being in JI. The rough strict style as a 'tuning' still provides the music with the perfume of JI that microtonal music that uses JI-type intervals lacks.  


Pitch classification in free style


Moving on to look at the free stylewe can choose to describe its difference from the strict style in a couple of different ways. On the one hand, we can say that the free style is music where the pitches are fluid instead of fixed; a "B" can at any time be either a "16/15", "135/128", "256/243", or "25/24." Such a description is saying that we are changing the nature of the pitches; in the strict style, pitches have fixed intonation, while in the free style, they have flexible or fluid intonation. On the other hand, we could say that we are expanding the gamut of pitches; in strict stylethe gamut is small and does usually not include pitches closer to each other than 1/6th of a tone, whereas, in the free style, we are adding a possibly infinite amount of pitches that exists as close to each other as commas, such as 21.5 cents (a syntonic comma).

The second way of conceptualization is in accordance with the compositional styles and methods used by composers such as Partch and Johnston who both drew their pitches from huge ratio lattices. Larry Polansky (2009) described this as a method of multiplicity. But the question we should ask ourselves is if Johnston’s composition method is reflected in the way our minds actualize pitches in his pieces. Do we hear the pitches as drawn from a colossal gamut, or do we rather hear a smaller number of pitches that have fluid intonation (despite this not being the way he conceptualizes pitches in his scores)? This question of how the mind-body 'represents' and 'categorizes' pitches (if we allow ourselves to adapt such a cognitivistic language provisionally) is important to answer if we want to develop a way of talking about how the music sounds regardless of how it is composed. We want our method of analysis to correspond to our aural perception rather than compositional technique. Our goal should be to employ an analytical model that corresponds as closely as possible with the way our mind actualizes pitches. According to Huron (2006), "how minds represent music has repercussions for what listeners remember, what listeners judge to be similar, and other musically important functions" (73). Describing this kind of representation well is, in other words, crucial if we want to get the phenomenology right. In this context, this means trying to give a phenomenologically correct answer to the question of wether the mind in the listening act judge "9/8" and "10/9" as different pitches that are to be retained separately because they carry very different musical meanings, or if it judges them as intonational variations of the same focal 'pitch class'.

When trying to answer these questions, it is important to remember the point made above, that when listening to music, most of us do not listen actively to pitches per se. Unless doing an exercise in transcribing a melody, we do not strain ourselves to conceptualize and categorize pitches. Rather, we are attuned to a musical world that is non-reflective and non-conceptual at the gross level. As soon as we actively start paying attention to the intonation of different pitches, we might hear differences that we would not if we were effortlessly listening in an attunemental, 'natural', non-critical mode of listening. Being able to hear certain differences might be important to the musician, but this does not mean that the listener needs to be aware of them. The musicians' listening is necessarily different from the listeners'. To be able to tell if we, as listeners, hear the shift from "10/9" to "9/8" as a modulatory moment or not requires us first to adopt an easy, effortless, natural way of listening to the music, and from this perspective (and not the perspective of a critical listener focusing on pitches) make an assessment about whether pitches are grouped into focal pitch classes or not. This is not always an easy phenomenological exercise, but a skill that is crucial to master if we are to report back our modes of listening adequately.


An important idea from the field of music cognition to bring into this discussion is Dowling's (1978) suggestion, made by drawing upon Miller's (1956) classic cognitivist idea, that the diatonic scale contains only seven discrete pitch classes because this matches our limited ability to remember and label items reliably along continuous dimensions such as pitch frequency. This type of cognitivist restraint can further be interpreted to imply that the mind’s perceptual and memory systems seek, because of its limited ability, a simplified organization of the sensory information received when listening to, say, the huge collection of pitches in the work of Johnston or Partch. In these piece, the mind would according to this idea categorize the sounds into focal pitch classes. Even though the composer works from a huge gamut of pitches where "10/9" and "9/8" clearly are distinct, they are nonetheless simplified as different tonal shades of the same focal pitch classes in the listening experience. In relation to C as "1/1", "10/9" and "9/8" share a 'D-ness' in the same way as the colors crimson and ruby share a redness. In other words, we do not hear the shift from "10/9" to a "9/8" as a modulation. To hear it as a modulation would mean that we hear it as a shift from one 'scale' step to another, but according to a cognitivistic thesis, these pitches are collapsed into a single scale step.


But what range of pitches would be eligible to share this D-ness? Is also an "8/7" collapsed into the same category as a "10/9"? Sabat has observed in relation to this, and I believe that many musicians will agree with him on this observation, that "intervals smaller than 1/6 of a tone (approximately 35 ¢) begin to take on the character of enharmonic shadings of pitch rather than functioning as distinct tones" (Sabat 2008/2009, 1). Generally speaking, the smaller the interval, the greater the tendency for the pitches that make up the interval to collapse into each other. 


In the JI repertoir, the comma "49/48" is a quite common melodic interval, and this interval is indeed just above 35 cents at circa 35.7 cents. In my own compositions, this interval is found between the scale steps "7/4" and "12/7" in Av dagg och fattigdom and the third movement of Andra Segel. Moving between these scale steps in these pieces is a very clear melodic movement involving two separate pitches. In other compositions, such as Mellan bleka stränder (efter Ni Zan), I have used the slightly smaller "56/55" found between a "7/4" and "55/32". As this "56/55" is 31.2 cents wide, it falls below Sabat's postulated 35¢ threshold. And indeed, it is very interesting to note how in this piece, when compared to Av dagg och fattigdom, the two pitches making up the 56/55 behave slightly more like 'shadings' of each other, creating more of a hazy and fuzzy enharmonic effect rather than clearly functioning like two separate pitches. While the pitches making up the 49/48 in Av dagg och fattigdom were clearly separated tones, the pitches making up the "56/55" in Mellan bleka stränder (efter Ni Zan) has more of a shared 'fused' identity. 


Yet, it is also possible for intervals smaller than "56/55" to behave like discrete pitches. In the music by Catherine Lamb, the syntonic comma 81/80 of 21.51 cents has been used as a melodic interval, and it is also not uncommon in the JI repertoire at large to find the syntonic comma 64/32 of 27/26 cents used in this way too. There is, however, a big difference between these two commas in terms of the ease in which they are perceived melodically, and the rule that the smaller the interval the greater the tendency for fusion helps explain the different general usages of the septimal and syntonic commas that we find in the JI repertoire. Pitches separated by septimal commas have a greater proclivity to not sound like enharmonic equivalents compared to the syntonic comma, even though the syntonic comma is only 5.75 cents more narrow. In my own experience, I would claim that it is quite 'easy', in terms of establishing the adequate circumstances, to make the pitches making up a 64/63 actualized as separate pitches; it is possible to establish a context in which the movement between "9/8" and "8/7" is heard as a melody–albeit very 'microtonal' sounding. Syntonic commas, however, are instead 'easy' to actualize as enharmonic variations and require, in my experience, special circumstances to separate (we will see examples of such special circumstances below in the music of Sabat and Lamb in the examples below). It is not as easy to articulate the melodic movement between "9/8" and "10/9" without it sounding like 'the same pitch being re-intonated'. Both the differences between 9/8 and 10/9, and 9/8 and 8/7 imply new harmonic regions, yet one is more distinguished as a melody than the other. 5.75 cents is big enough of a difference for the tendency to 'distinguish' to flip over into 'fusing'.


In dealing with intervals smaller than 35 cents, establishing the supporting condition for pitches to separate is crucial. To what extent pitches that are separated by the "56/55" of 31.2 cents fuse is very much a matter of context. In the harmonic context of the piece Om dagen stilla, the same 56/55 of 31.2 cents is used but sounds in this piece more like separate pitches than was the case in Mellan bleka stränder (efter Ni Zan). My intuition tells me that this has to do with the more fleshed-out harmonic space that operates in Om dagen stilla. While Mellan bleka stränder uses a quite small harmonic material that is very scalar, Om dagen stilla has a more fully articulated harmonic space that is more spectral in orientation. This allows for the two different pitches that make up the 56/55 to more easily be separated since they are clearly associated with different spectral sub-sections–with different harmonic tunable paths. In Om dagen stilla, the 56/55 interval is found between the pitches called "27/22" and "135/112" in the matrix in Figure 17. Both of these pitches have many tunable paths to other pitches. "135/112" clearly functions as a 5th partial in a spectral sub-section. Both the root as well as the fifth, ninth, and seventh related to this 5th partial are present in the scale. "27/22" is in a similar way scaffolded by many tunable intervals–it is the 7th partial in a spectral sub-section where also the 11th, 9th, and 3rd partials are represented. 





Figure 17. Matrix of Om dagen stilla


In Mellan bleka stränder (efter Ni Zan), the 56/55 is found between "55/32" and "7/4". As can be seen by looking at the matrix, while the "7/4" is well connected to many other points in the harmonic space, the "55/32" (as well as the "165/128") seem to float outside of it with only one tunable connection. Because of this, the "7/4" comes across as the main pitch, while "55/32" becomes a microtonal variation of it. The more fleshed-out harmonic space in Om dagen stilla makes the difference between the pitches making up the "56/55" in that piece more harmonically meaningful–the pitches are harmonically important in their own right, and it is this harmonic intelligibility, my thesis here goes, that makes it easier for us to distinguish them as separate pitches in that piece.



Figure 18. Matrix of Mellan bleka stränder (efter Ni Zan)

 

Furthermore, some pieces use 'enharmonic equivalents'—intervals below 5 cents, such as 441/440 of 3.93 or the schisma of  1.61 cents, and this kind of repertoire illuminates another threshold: where intervals are so narrow that they do not even sound like the kind of 'enharmonic shadings' that Sabat referred to with intervals below approximately 35 cents. Narrow enharmonic equivalents merely sound like the same pitch. It is only when the sizes are larger than 5 cents that they start to sound like different 'shades' rather than collapsing completely. The distance of 7.71 cents between A# - - ("225/128") and Bb ↓ ("7/4") is, for example, too big to sound like an enharmonic equivalent. Using these two pitches in a modal context creates a loose style context where these two pitches appear in different shades. However, if only using narrow enharmonic equivalents that are smaller than 5 cents and no pitches separated by syntonic-sized commas, the music will sound like the strict style rather than free or loose, even though each pitch in the scale might have multiple spellings and the theoretical gamut be quite large.  


In summary, it seems to me that the narrow band between 5 and 25 cents is especially crucial for enharmonic shadings. Smaller intervals than this are too small to sound like an intonational 'variation' whereas larger intervals can sound like discrete scale steps as they acquire more of an identity of their own. Combining these observations with the above cognitivistic idea about the difficulty in keeping more than seven pitches 'present' at the same time might lead us to want to at least as a hypothesis say that in many free style styles, the large number of frequencies separated by commas smaller than 35 cents overwhelms the perception and gives rise to a simplified organization of pitches into focal pitch classes; sounds that are less than approximately 35 cents apart become different 'nuances' of the same tone. Unfortunately, it will not be that easy to postulate that kind of rule, and this is because our perceptual orientation toward sound is not only guided by cognitivistic restraints but also by a search for meaning. The 35-cent threshold is fluid and impacted by the harmonic contexts and particular modes of listening that different pieces of music afford. Some harmonic contexts and modes of listening will allow for a proclivity of 'fusion' while other harmonic contexts will easier allow for separation. We can even draw to mind how in the realm of Equal Tempered music, composers such as Takemitsu have even achieved to make intervals as large as quarter tones sound like enharmonic variations of each other.


Before giving some examples where the organization of comma-distanced pitches in focal pitch classes does not happen, I will first give an example of a piece where I think that it happens. This is a piece of mine coincidentally named Marc (Sabat). This piece uses fifteen pitches per octave as shown in Figure 19. Despite clearly being different pitches in the composition process, these fifteen are in performance heard as 9 'fluid' pitches (A, B, C, D, D#, E, F#, G, G#). This does not mean an endorsement of cognitivism, but simply reflects how I perceive the music. The fact that even I, who composed the music and know about all the differences, intuit the music in this way suggests that other people likely hear it this simplified way as well. This certainly does not mean that a piece like Marc (Sabat) could equally well be played in ET, where the proposed simplified organization of sense data is literally translated into a simplified, tempered, system of pitch classes. The different intonations carry important meanings and psychological cues that are very important to play precisely, but this does not translate into perceiving the pitches distanced by commas categorically as different. Below, at Figure 25, I will return to an analysis of this piece.






Figure 19



The 5-limit free style used in a piece like Marc (Sabat) might actually be the style of JI that in sound comes closest to Western Common Practice Period music. In that musical style, performed for example by a string quartet, the pitches are also fluid without each new intonational iteration sounding like a modulation or a completely new category. The musician accustomed to Western music will probably not hear anything odd about a free style piece like Marc (Sabat) as the pitches are neither significantly flat nor sharp from their stylistic boundaries within Western music. Lou Harrison even implied at times that he thought that free style JI is what string quartets who play classical music naturally do. In the chromatic sections of his Suite for Symphonic Strings, Harrison refrained from notating the music in JI despite the other movements being in JI. Instead, he left it up to the musicians to find 'consonant’ and 'harmonious' intonation themselves (i.e., "play it in JI"). The result, he said, was not very different were he to write out the ratios himself (Miller et al. 1998, 121). In my opinion, this is expressive of the unfortunate idealism associated with some JI composers of that generation; they believed that JI was the 'natural’ intonation of musicians. Contrary to Harrison's claim, research has shown that performers of Western art music adhere surprisingly close to ET with no seeming preference for JI, even when playing without a tempered instrument (Burns 1998, 246); the 'span' of the pitch classes’ fluidity is not nearly as vast as they typically are in free style JI, even when only in 5-limit with relatively few comma-levels operating.


If one way of perceiving pitches in the free style is by categorically grouping them into focal pitch classes, there are at least some examples of free style music where we intuitively 'separate' comma-distanced pitches in important ways. An excellent example that can be used to investigate this phenomenon is Marc Sabat’s Gioseffo Zarlino excerpted below in Figure 20. When listening, is the A- and G+ heard as different pitches from the A and G? In my own listening experience, this was found to be the case but only after a while. The music works with repetitions of brief, simple phrases, and this allows the listener to adopt the detailed listening that is required to hear these comma differences as categorical. We become attuned to the micro-audial details as the affordances of the music teach us that this is what is important to listen for. This is where the meaning of the piece resides. After a while, I start to perceive G and G+ as different pitches after initially hearing them as the same focal pitch class. These differences take on a freshness that signals something like a new category, similarly fresh as a Bb will sound in C major in Equal Temperament—a modulatory feeling. 


This modulatory freshness and categorical separation when going from a "5/3" to "27/16" does not generally happen in the free style, and it does not happen in a piece like Marc (Sabat). If we are inclined to cognitivistic explanatory models, we might want to follow Dowling and Miller and say that this is due to our limited cognitive capacities and our propensities for categorical perception. As seen in the example by Sabat, however, certain stylistic choices might invite us to a different kind of listening. This means that we cannot accept a naive cognitivist view of perception. As this example by Sabat shows, pitch perception has to do with searching out and as a listener co-create what is meaningful in music, not about 'processing' some kind of postulated 'sense-data' into perceived pitches. 




Figure 20


Another interesting instance of this phenomenon can be found in the reduced 'melodic duo' version of Catherine Lamb’s Prisma Interius VIII. Even though this music uses many small pitches separated only by small commas, it does not sound like being in the free style. Due to the way the music unfolds, it rather sounds to me like something best described (if sticking with the categories used in this text) as a strict style with a very large gamut of pitches, some of which are comma-distances apart. It sounds, in other words, neither as being in the free style nor as in the strict style the way I have generally described it. The music does not seem to fit the categories outlined in this text since strict style pieces were defined as having generally small gamuts and very few, if any, pitches separated by commas. The reason for it sounding strict style-esque is perhaps found in the way the pitches are 'spectrally' articulated as part of a single overtone series; all pitches are notated as partials over the low (inaudible) 5 Hz. Of course, we can often find a low common root tone to pieces in JI, from which all pitches can be considered partials, but the difference here is that this relationship is established with unusual clarity for the listener. The slow unfolding of the piece, beginning with a slow oscillation between G and G- (81:80) and slowly adding pitches, insists on the separation of G and G- as different pitches. They indicate that they perhaps are something more than just different shades of the same pitch class; they are the difference between the 80th and 81st partial. A section like the one at rehearsal number 10, seen in Figure 21, which in isolation looks like a 5-limit free style passage appears in something like a 'single-overtone series-strict style' context that makes the analysis of it in the free style dissatisfying.




Figure 21



A parenthetical point to note in connection with this piece is how its mentioned opening section largely consists of small untunable intervals–some of them as small as the prominent 81:80 (Figure 22). This piece provides a clear example of an important point mentioned in the introduction; a definite line between microtonal music that uses JI-type intervals and what we call integrated JI is impossible to establish but rather represents two idealized extremes. In reality, much music moves back and forth in complex ways between these two styles. Categorically, we must say that Prisma Interius VIII begins as microtonal music that uses JI-type-intervals where the musician must rely on her ability to memorize the sound of the intervals, but that these microtones are later re-interpreted as 'always having been' part of a tunable matrix (in this case a single overtone series). But even as the music in the first minutes of the piece goes back and forth between the two performance modes of tuning and approximating pitches, this is not an oscillation that is readily audible to the listener. For the musician as well, this distinction is blurry; at times we can not tell if we are tuning to short-term memory, or if we are habitually approximating pitches in reliance on mental/embodied representations. Between these two modes of performance, there is a feedback system where one supports the other.  




Figure 22


Poetic moods and tunable paths in the free style


If Harrison in his Suite for Symphonic Strings considered free style to be Western musicians’ natural mode of intonation, Harrison at other times deemed free style to be impossible to achieve without instruments specially built for the purpose. For his Simfoni in Free Style, Harrison employed, for example, an array of differently-tuned custom-made flutes (Doty 1987); the tunings and key placements would guide the musicians through the intonation. Simfoni in Free Style has never been performed live so the only thing we can listen to is a MIDI mockup. The first thing that strikes me when listening to this mockup is the extreme flexibility of intonation. The pitch level rises rapidly through the different comma levels. In just two measures (8-9), five 5-limit comma levels are present from B- (one comma down) to Bbb+++ (three commas up). This is, by all means, radical intonation and very difficult to achieve accurately at such a fast pace. The result of this kind of intonation is the sound of a highly malleable pitch space. It sounds de-centered, non-hierarchical, fluid, and liquid-like. The affective and poetic 'mood' produced by this intonation is the very opposite of the clearly defined and unifying rasa-s of the strict style that we studied above. The 'rasa' of Simfoni in Free Style is one of almost psychedelic liquidity.




Figure 23 (Measure 8-9 of Simfoni in Free Style)



For me, there is a discord between the liquid-like tuning and the actual melodies and motifs used in Simfoni in Free Style. In fact, everything but the intonation sounds like what Miller and Lieberman in their comprehensive study of Harrison have rightfully dubbed "vintage Harrison" (1998, 118). The music sounds just like Harrison’s other music but now with very spectacular intonation—it is vintage Harrison seen through psychedelic glasses. The music is not only swiftly moving between comma-levels but there is even a blatant use of wolf-intervals. A direct 27/20 dyad between D and G is, for example, called for in measure 5. 


The only way to really play the kind of intonation used in this piece convincingly, one could argue, is if it is backed up by an artistic idea and poetic mood that is 'all about' this kind of liquid-like stretching of the pitch space and that speaks in a single voice together with the tuning—it should be psychedelic Harrison seen through psychedelic glasses. Harrison’s Simfoni in Free Style does not embrace that kind of poetic expression and does not invite such a mode of listening. Instead, it is "vintage Harrison" in which many intervals plainly sound out-of-tune.


Simfoni in Free Style thus provides us with another important example of the rule that the intonation system and the composition must speak in a single voice–speak with the same artistic intention–for the intonation not to sound jarring. As a comparison, an almost equally fast movement between comma levels happens in the passage from Prisma Interius VIII shown in Figure 21. Here, the music swiftly moves between four comma levels from Bb to D#- - - but sounds here completely natural because of the way it articulates a well-defined harmonic territory that has been slowly and gradually built up and established throughout this slowly evolving piece.  




Figure 24



Even in a free style composition, it has to be noted that it does not take much for temporary reference points to arise—reference points that can make certain pitches sound out-of-tune even when they do not conspicuously appear as such from just reading the succession of notes in the score. In Figure 24, modified from Figure 2 earlier on, the A- will likely sound too low even in a free style context as the D and E provides local tuning references. Such local reference points will always arise—weak and temporary as they may be—as the perception of musical pitches always is colored by other pitches previously heard (see further discussion in Krumhansl 1990, 283). This does not change just because one calls the music 'free style' and glorifies it through a rhetoric of having 'freed' intervals from musical gamuts by working out the intonation of each interval locally. The perception of music is not as local as Harrison seem to have thought. Even when writing free style music, the composer must be attentive to local modalities and modal hierarchies as they arise. It is, after all, the very nature of JI to have a 1/1. The composer must be able to feel which notes influence tuning most and then adjust the music accordingly. Such adjustments do not necessarily always entail replacing pitches; by simply clarifying the phrasing in Figure 24, we can diminish the importance that the D and E have on the A- by, for example, grouping the D and E together and clearly starting a new phrase on the B-. Again, pitch perception is about enacting meaningfulness, not about processing data, and shifts in phrasing and articulation will guide us in this endeavor and will therefore change our perception of intonation.


Successful pieces in free style do not by any means have to go as far as to embrace the kind of psychedelic liquidity of Simfoni in Free Style, but they must speak in a single voice with the intonation system. From the perspective of my own practice, the main quality of the free style is the freedom from strong modal contexts. In my free style pieces, I have been inspired to emphasize how the lack of a unified mode and lack of such a mode's co-emergent affective quality puts the listener in a 'present moment' that is less in the grip of a single modal center or modal hierarchy. The music stays 'new' and becomes modally unpredictable. Such pieces are not unified by strong, affective modes, but each new phrase and section can have contrasting affective qualities brought about by the free intonation. In Marc (Sabat), the fact that the music is in free style helps to emphasize the very fragmented nature of this music as there is no unified mood or affect in terms of intonation that connects the fragments.


An excerpt from Marc (Sabat) is shown in Figure 25. By tracing the tunable paths, we can clearly see how this melodic and harmonic writing differs from the strict style seen in Figure 7. In order to make sense of the shifts between A and A- and D and D-, the musician must be quick to grab onto the notes that support these modulations. Such is the case in measure 27, where the second violinist must perform a D- whereas in measure 23 there had been a D. Here, the violinist must quickly re-orient the intonational reference points, ignore the F#- at the beginning of measure 27 (to which it will form a Pythagorean third), and tune only to the immediately preceding sonority where the first violin and the trumpet provides a clear E- and A- perfect fourth. In the same way, to accurately perform the modulations to the major chords [B-, D#--, F#-] and [E-, G#--, B-] from what at the beginning of the excerpt is a G Ionian [G, A, B-, C, D, E-, F#-] moment. The musicians must in measure 27 catch and build this modulation upon the emphasized pitches B- (m. 24) and E- (m. 26). 


The tuning in this passage is fragile; crucial reference points are found in the immediately surrounding notes rather than from a modal framework. In the three systems of Figure 25, four comma levels are used. Swift modulations such as these where each pitch connects to another in a tunable link and where new modalities must be built on pitches only heard once leaves little room for mistakes. The musicians must stay vigilant with regard to performing each aggregate accurately.


By carefully considering the instrumentation, the composer can help the musicians in this endeavor. When writing for stringed instruments as in Marc (Sabat), she can, for example, make use of the open strings and natural harmonics to aid the tuning and at certain moments provide anchor points. Consider, for example, the stark modulation from a [E- A- C] to a [F#- A D]-harmony in measure 29. The difficult comma movement in the second violin part from A- to A is facilitated by the use of open strings and harmonics; A- is arrived at through a tunable path, but A is arrived at through using an open string. Additionally, by using orchestration to emphasize the top line C to D as the important part of this gesture (the C is doubled by violin I and trumpet, and the D by violin I and II in octaves), the intonation of A- to A becomes easier to grasp because its pitches are clearly in a second voice attributed to and dependent upon the first voice. 





Figure 25 (Trumpet in Bb)


Another piece of mine in the free style is Radii solis, et sternet (sibi aurum) quasi lutum (Figure 26). In this piece, the music uses five different comma levels, which is one more than Marc (Sabat). Yet, the music moves slowly and gradually through the comma levels through mainly tunable paths. The effect of listening to this music is one in which, just like Marc (Sabat), the music retains a fragmented sound and emphasis on the present-moment harmonic constellations rather than establishing a strong modal mood. 



Figure 26


Before moving on to the loose style, the last style to be discussed in this text, we can now summarize the free style. Basically, it is a style that is the total opposite of the strict style. Instead of working with a fixed gamut, it works with an unlimited and unrestrained number of pitches. Instead of having the kind of strong unifying modal affect that is associated with small gamuts, free style pieces can potentially have no global, unifying modal affect of this kind. This does not mean that the music lacks modal affect, but rather that the modal affects are sculpted more locally: the pitches themselves are less related to a unifying mode and more related locally to their immediately surrounding pitches. This makes the craft of composing a tunable path more feeble as the musician can rely less upon contextual 'modal' tuning and scalar familiarity. 


The sometimes teeming number of pitches in a free style piece begs the question of how these are cognitively represented by the listener. Do we hear "27/16" and "5/3" as the same pitch in different intonations or as different pitches altogether? In a piece of mine, such distinctions were shown to be categorically blurred in the listening experience. It was argued that while this blurring may be the most normal for pieces in free style—that is, we do not perceive a move from "27/16" to "5/3" as a modulation in the same way as changing a B to Bb in Equal Temperament would—this can change depending on how the composer constructs her piece. Pieces by Sabat and Lamb seem to suggest listening practices in which pitches commas apart can be distinguished categorically. Within the free style, perhaps we can talk of two sub-categories which represent the two ends of a possible continuum: music that readily invites a simplified organization into focal pitch classes, and music that readily invites separating comma-distanced intervals categorically. 


Loose style



Table 2


While the strict and free style, and the importance of properly distinguishing between them, was already introduced by Lou Harrison, the intermittent loose style is introduced here for the first time. Its most salient characteristic is a hierarchical ordering of pitches that dictates intonational fluidity. Some pitches, structural in nature, are fixed, while the remaining pitches are free. Pitches low in the hierarchy can be freely replaced by their neighboring variants (distanced by commas), while the structural pitches higher up in the hierarchy can under regular circumstances not (if not intentionally used for a modulatory effect, they will sound out-of-tune). In my loose style pieces, the structural pitches are often 'typical' structural pitches such as ["1/1","3/2"] or ["1/1","4/3", "3/2"]. The ["1/1","5/4","3/2","15/8"]-pattern, in particular, has found its use in many compositions. Three different iterations of this pattern are shown in Table 2. In this table, these four structural pitches are themselves ordered into three hierarchical levels; “1/1” is on the top level, “3/2” is on the second level, and “5/4” and “15/8” are on the third. These three levels reflect how the higher one moves in the hierarchy, the greater the modulatory effect of changing pitches by syntonic commas will be. The fourth level under the structural pitches in the table includes all the other pitches used in the pieces.


These tables have their origin in observations done in my compositional practice prior to formulating the idea of the loose style. For example, when composing the first piece shown in the table, mot våren bortom havet, I noticed that lowering the D by one syntonic comma to D- had jarring effects, often sounding out-of-tune if not prepared with extreme caution, while changing the A to an A- was very smooth and easy; changing the B- to a B had a big modulatory effect, but not as big as changing the G to G- or G+ had—the alteration which most easily sounded jarring. I wrote many pieces making practical observations like these before I started to realize that maybe this was an idiom distinct from the free style. With the eventual formulation of the loose style of JI, these practical observations found a corresponding theoretical explanation. Later on, I noticed that these tables for the ["1/1","5/4","3/2","15/8"]-structure largely corresponds with the basic pitch space tables used by Krumhansl based on empirical measures of tonal hierarchies (see for example Krumhansl and Cuddy 2010)—a convergence that has to be further studied in the future.      


To illustrate the workings of these hierarchies in practice, let us look at seven measures from att sjunka i doftande klöver for violin, cello, and piano. Figure 27 shows an early version of these bars. When just reading this score for the first time, we might conclude that everything looks very tunable; we might indeed think that it is written by a composer who has taken great care of the tunable paths. Our only objection is possibly the violin line’s third pitch—we can complain that this three-note melody frames a wolf fourth (E to B-), and we might ask ourselves if this is really tunable. Then, however, we see that there is a strong bass line in both the cello and piano that moves from A to D, and that the violin tunes the E as a perfect fifth to the A, and then a B- as a just major sixth to the D. The relationship to the bass line becomes the important factor here and the fact that the violin melody is outlining a wolf-fifth is obscured and hidden in performance and thus not important.




Figure 27

Having concluded that the tunable path is smooth, we will surely be greatly surprised when listening to this music and hearing how the violin’s A- in measure 261 sounds too low—indeed out-of-tune. This is not at all evident from just reading the score. On the contrary, the fact that the A- in Figure 27 is preceded by both a B- and an E- makes it look absolutely correct with the A- there. It is the third interval in a series of 4/3s. What has happened in listening to account for this phenomenon is the arising of a hierarchy of pitches characteristic of the loose style of JI. The emphatic D in a low register in 258 and 259 in both the piano and cello linger in the memory all the way through 261 and makes the ear want to hear the A as unlowered because it forms a 3:2 to it. There is no doubt that it is the D that serves as the basis-pitch of this passage as a 'fundamental' or 'root'. The A, furthermore, is a structural pitch one step down in the hierarchy from D as the 3/2 to the root. Krumhansl (1990) noted that "recognition memory for a tone depends on its position in the tonal hierarchy, with more stable tones in the tonal hierarchy more stable in the memory trace" (148). In other words, because of its position as the basis pitch of this passage, the D remains present for a long time and has, therefore, a strong influence even as E-, not a basis tone, has sounded more recently. The A can be tuned either to the D (as an A) or the E- (as an A-), but not both. It 'had' to be tuned to the D because the mind’s hierarchical categorization of pitches was more important than melodic linearity and short-term tunability.


In order to not hear the pitch as false to the immediately preceding B- and E-, we must hear it as arising within a modal–or tonal, to follow Krumhansl’s usage of this word–context. If the experience of a modal hierarchy is not present when we hear measures 260-261, the A will sound out-of-tune. When composing in the loose style, the composer will often end up writing passages such as these that in notation looks 'bad'. These hierarchies result in compositionally interesting moments where the ear is more willing to hear untunable intervals like wolf-fourths than structural pitches adapting by commas.  





Figure 28



Figure 28 shows the penultimate version of the passage in Figure 27. The A- in 261 is changed to an A, and this change further necessitated a change from E- to E in the same measure (but not the preceding E- in the measure before). The cello’s E in measure 261 now forms a wolf-interval to the following B- in measure 262. Although this does not sound too out-of-tune in the modal context, the whole passage still has a slight perfume of out-of-tune-ness caused by all the direct wolf intervals. On the one hand, this was not a big problem because prior to this moment, the employment of many 'awkward' outlines and skips that exposed Pythagorean thirds and wolf-fourths had already established a rather thorny and angular mood in the piece. The exposed wolves in Figure 28 fit within this mood very well. It was, therefore, decided to keep this passage without re-writing it completely. On the other hand, the passage in Figure 28 had a little bit too much of this quality. To solve this problem, it was enough to just add a D as a pure fifth under the A in measure 261 as a reminder to the ear of the modal center. It also serves the purpose of masking the 10:9 between B- and A by instead drawing attention to the 5:3 between B- and D. By so doing, the perfume of the wolf’s out-of-tune-ness evaporated but still left us with a rather 'thorny' and 'angular' sounding counterpoint. In order to help the musician navigate the fast shifts between, for example, E- and E, I made sure that these kinds of passages were always supported by the use of natural harmonics and open strings. The final version is shown in Figure 29.




Figure 29


The solo double bass piece Väntar där dimma uppstår employs a similar usage of consciously 'imperfect' JI-writing to achieve a particular poetic mood. In both this piece and in att sjunka i doftande klöver studied above, the 'imperfections' in the tunable paths give rise to specific poetic effects that would not be possible with completely 'perfect' JI melodic writing (i.e., a JI that almost exclusively uses tunable intervals). In measure 187 (Figure 30) a major ninth is played, but it is not the tunable major ninth 9/4 but rather the untunable 20/9. The performer is asked to find this by re-voicing the tunable minor seventh 9/5 in the previous measure by keeping the G+ stable while transposing the A up two octaves. Because the pitch classes are already established in the 9/5, the sonority 20/9 in measure 187 does not necessarily sound 'wrong' or out-of-tune; both the pitches involved are in-mode pitch classes, but it has a fascinating, energetic pulsation to it that wants to be resolved. To perform this 20/9, the musician first tunes the 9/5 in 185, then keeps the G+ stable, and adds to high A as a natural harmonic and while doing so, resist the temptation to lower the G+ to a G in order to form the still, just major ninth 9/4. 




Figure 30

While my main purpose in this text is to argue for the need for JI-composers to take tunability more into consideration, it would be a mistake to ask of all music to only use tunable intervals. As these examples from att sjunka i doftande klöver and Väntar där dimma uppstår shows, there is also a place for untunable intervals. 

Implied modal modulations in the loose style


One of the interesting things about the loose style is that the smaller gamut of pitches used in comparison to free style sometimes leads to slightly less of a readiness for categorical perception of comma-distanced ratios as variants of the same focal pitch classes. Quite often in the loose style, we can really hear the difference and properly distinguish "8/5" and "128/81" as different pitches in a way that we are not usually attuned to when listening to pieces in the free style. When analyzing these moments of heightened discrimination of comma alterations, we realize that this is because alterations between comma-distanced pitches often in loose style sections strongly imply a modulation with greater implications than merely a microtonal change in how one scale-degree is intonated. At these moments, the change in the intonation of pitches implies a different purpose than simply adapting in order to form beatless intervals with other surrounding pitches. 

This is not always the case in the loose style; in att sjunka i doftande klöver looked at above, the alteration between E and E- goes by without such notice or sense of modulation. In that piece, the pitches on the lowest, fourth level of the hierarchy are adapting primarily to tune well to the structural pitches. In loose style pieces like Sommarberg, i glömska and Vid stenmuren blir tanken blomma, however, the pitches in the lowest level are replaced by their neighboring comma variants to articulate modulations between closely related modal scales—scales that in ET would be expressed with the same pitches—such as D Ionian and B Aeolian. In these instances, the new pitch stands out as impactful; it is recognized as a new category and has a modulatory freshness. In these pieces, one is almost inclined to describe the music as constantly modulating between different strict style scales closely related rather than as being in a single loose style mode. Thinking about this music as modulations between different strict style scales rather than a single loose style would be another way to interpret Dowling’s suggestion that only around seven pitches can be kept in mind or remembered at a time.




Figure 31 (transposed score; trumpet in Bb)


Examples of these 'modulatory' comma changes can be found in Sommarberg, i glömska for violin, viola, and trumpet. In this piece, modulations back and forth between the D Ionian mode ["1/1", "9/8", "5/4", "4/3", "3/2", "5/3", "15/8"] and B- Aeolian mode ["5/3", "15/8", "1/1", "10/9", "5/4", "4/3", "3/2"] often occurs. The only difference between these scales is the change of the pitch class E from "9/8" to "10/9". An excerpt of a modulatory passage is given in Figure 31. In measure 127, the music is clearly in D Ionian but modulates throughout the phrase to land in B- Aeolian in m. 136. Notice how the E changed to E- (tunable as a 5/3 to G and 4/3 to B-) in m. 135 to establish this. In m. 139, the phrase starts a modulation back to D, and this is achieved precisely by changing the E- back to E (tunable as a 9:4 to D) in measure 140. Throughout this passage, the alterations between E- and E make this modulation between B Aeolian and D Ionian perceivable both in terms of a shift in modal center as well as in a shift in affective quality. If the music had been in ET, the modulation aspect of this passage would not have been registered since it is, after all, possible for diatonic Western music to end the middle of a phrase on the sixth scale degree without necessarily implying full-fledged modulation to the relative minor mode. In JI, however, such modulations arise as impactful. Furthermore, if the passage had appeared in a free style environment, such comma changes would be so common as to dilute the modulatory effect. In this loose style context, however, one can really perceive these subtle modulations. The pitch changes that clarify them (such as E to E-) stand out as meaningful to the listener.



Figure 32

Another loose style piece that uses comma movements to indicate modulations is Vid stenmuren blir tanken blomma for violin and viola. In one section shown in Figure 32, the music goes back and forth between D Ionian and E- Aeolian. The difference between these scales is bigger than the one between D Ionian and B aeolian discussed above as it also requires an interval to change pitch class (C to C#-). Still, however, these modulations are signified and made clear not only by the change of C to C#- but equally well by changing the A- to A. In measure 180-183, the music is in E- Aeolian. As soon as we hear the natural A (rather than the in-mode A-) in 185, we are already given a premonition that the C will be replaced by a C#- in the following bar, as this change in the intonation of A already carries a modulation with it. The following C#- sounds thus very smooth and predicted since some of the modulation already happened with the A, which by being a Pythagorean sixth (untunable and therefore here played as an open string) to the low C in 184 clearly stands out as being modulatory. In ET, the modulation would only have happened with the introduction of the C#. Here, however, the weight of the modulation is distributed between the C#- and A rather than just falling on the C#-. Later in this section, the modality lands more fully in E- Aeolian, but between measures 184 and 208 (not excerpted here) the A- keeps shifting back and forth from A- to A, suggesting subtle modulations between the E- Aeolian and D Mixolydian modes. 

In an earlier section of the same piece, from measure 84 shown in Figure 33, a modulation that could be jarring, from A Ionian to C Ionian is made smooth by already changing the intonation of E and B to E- and B- while "still being" in A Ionian. Much of the modulation already happens when lowering these pitches by commas, and the introduction of the C in measure 90 does not sound jarring, as it might have had in ET, but smooth. 



Figure 33

Another example can be found in Livets eget bleka flöde on page 21 (Figure 34). In a melodic sequence between a D and a G, we find a E. Why an E and not an E-? In the octave positions given in this music, a E- would be tunable to both the D as a 9/5 and to the G as a 12/5, but instead, the music is written using an E. I made this choice because the E- would have implied a undesirable modulation. E- would have suggested harmonic hierarchies and hinted at harmonic regions to which the piece does not strive. Just as with the example above, the only way to answer why an E would make more sense than the E- is found by looking at the modal context and tonal hierarchies. 


As we have seen with all of these examples, there is a wide range of approaches to modulation in the loose style, and all modulations do not have to be as smooth as possible. While pieces like Sommarberg, i glömska and Vid stenmuren blir tanken blomma attempts for a very smooth effect, other pieces such as att sjunka i doftande klöver and Väntar där dimma uppstår that we looked at above have a rougher treatment of modulations. Just as in non-JI music, modulations can be prepared and smooth, or unprepared and jarring, sometimes noticeable and sometimes unnoticeable. Making poetic use of the kinds of subtle modulations discussed here is, however, according to me, one of the great strengths of the loose style.


Figure 34


Before moving on to a comprehensive conclusion of this text, we can summarize our findings of the loose style. As a style of integrated JI, we saw that one of its defining characteristics is the presence of modal hierarchies. This is not to say that modal hierarchies are lacking in the strict and free styles, but only that they operate in a way here that has a very specific impact on the fluidity of pitches and the construction of tunable paths. This leads us to categorize it as a distinct style. A loose style gamut is comprised of structural pitches and non-structural pitches. The structural pitches are at the top of the modal hierarchy, while the non-structural pitches are at the bottom. We saw that the structural pitches had two primary characteristics. Firstly, they are retained more vividly in short-term memory and can, therefore, be relied upon as tuning references even after other pitches that potentially provide conflicting tuning references have been played. Secondly, the modulatory effect of replacing these pitches with their neighboring comma variants will be very drastic. The structural pitches, therefore, tend to be 'fixed' in their intonation and rarely replaced by pitches comma-distances apart. Pitches lower in the hierarchy have two inverse characteristics: they are not as easily retained, and they are easily replaced by their neighboring comma variants (e.g. they are 'fluid'). Depending on the piece, the neighboring comma variants of the non-structural pitches on the lowest level can be treated in a merely interchangeable fashion—used freely to fit the local tuning situations—or, they can be given a more clear audible distinction. The latter quality can, for example, be achieved by having them articulate subtle modulations between closely related modes (such as C Ionian and D Dorian). Excerpts from my compositions provided examples of this. 

Modulation as new harmonic relationships or as new microtonal inflections

Before concluding this text, there is one final concern that arises from the above discussion that should be to addressed. This has to do with the question of whether modulatory 'effects' are primarily achieved by establishing new harmonic relationships, or by the introduction of new microtonal profiles. Is the modulation from C Ionian to D Dorian primarily achieved by suddenly making the fifth between D and A a perfect fifth (in a basic D Dorian scale) and therefore melodically and harmonically possible (tunable), or is it primarily raising the A (from A- in the C Ionian to A in D Dorian) microtonally that achieves the 'effect' of modulation?Since the changes in cent are quite slim, it might be argued that the modulation sounds like a modulation not primarily because the microtonal profile is different. Rather, what makes it stands out is the new harmonic relationships that can be formed between pitches that previously were not possible. An example of what I mean by this can be found in the brass nonet Tusen tysta skogar. The first part of that piece is almost exclusively in the G Hypoaeolian mode ["3/2", "8/5", "9/5", "1/1", "9/8", "6/5", "4/3"], but at a few crucial moments in cadences, the "4/3" is replaced by a "27/20" in order to form a 9/5 to the "3/2" or a 4/3 to the "9/5". We might argue that this modulation stands out as 'fresh' not because the "F" suddenly is intonated a little bit higher, but because it is now possible to form entirely new harmonic relations between the "F" and the other pitches in the scale. We might argue that it is this that is important, and not the microtonal change in cents. 

But if new harmonic relationships were the only thing that was important in order to achieve the effect of modulation, then these modulations would stand out just as much in Equal Temperament, because even in an equally tempered version, the harmony between G and F would have been avoided equally long before being introduced. The statistical relationship would be the same. Indeed, some of this quality is retained in an ET version, but I also observe that it is not nearly as strong. This implies that the microtonal shifts are also important; the effect of modulation does not merely come about because the just intervals dictate certain 'rules' of melodic and harmonic writing, but also because of the microtonal profiles of the pitches that clarify these rules. It is only in the justly tuned context where ratios are related as simple ratios as this effect truly becomes clear. I am reminded here of a statement by Terry Riley: 

Resonant vibration that is perfectly in tune has a very powerful effect. If it's out of tune, the analogy would be like looking at an image that is out of focus. That can be interesting too, but when you bring it into focus you suddenly see details that you hadn't seen before. What happens when a note is correctly tuned is that it has a detail and a landscape that is very vibrant (in Duckworth 1995, 283)

It is the details of JI that are not available in ET that make it possible to experience the modulation as a 'powerful effect'.

The enharmonically flexible strict style and JI-temperaments

The pieces in which I have used 'enharmonic equivalents' provide good examples when discussing this question of whether modulation is primarily due to a re-configuring of harmonic space, or due to new microtonal placements of 'scale-steps'. The term 'enharmonic equivalent' is used here to refer to pitches that are less than five cents apart, When pitches caused by very different tunable paths (such as "315/176" and "25/14") land this close in frequency to each other, the music can seamlessly modulate through these enharmonic equivalents to very distant harmonic regions, yet without audibly changing the microtonal profile of the 'scale-steps'. In for example Ljusomflutna, sakta vindarthe viola pitch in Figure 35's measure 56 (a "12/11") is enharmonically equivalent to the violin pitch in measure 60 (a "35/32"). If the theory is that it is primarily the new harmonic context that makes the feeling of modulation appear, then we would expect the 35/32 (as a 5-limit interval to the viola's pitch in m. 60 instead of as an 11-limit interval, 11/4, to G) to feel very modulatory. Yet, it does not. The feeling of this piece throughout is that of strict style, although it is a strict style that is more complex and ambiguous-sounding than the one used in Vårbris, porslinsvas.  


Figure 35

Another example can be seen in the excerpt from I luftens svala dunkel in Figure 36. Here, there are two types of E flats, C's and F's. Even though these different enharmonic equivalents imply vastly different harmonic relationships, I would argue that we do not feel any particular modulatory effects from their enharmonic replacaments. It rather sounds like a strict style-piece. 


Figure 36

Experiences from these pieces, where enharmonic equivalents make possible new harmonic implications, yet still sound like they are just in a strict style-context, implies to me that the implied modal modulations in the loose style are to an important extent a product of the changes in microtonal scale positionings.

This kind of enharmonically flexible strict style constitutes the majority of my pieces in non-5 limit JI (e.g. pieces in 7, 11, and 13 limit). This style of music achieves a kind of polysemic and ambiguous 'mode' with an inherently 'modulatory' feeling to it despite sounding like a strict style piece that exploits only 'one scale'. In a sense, the enharmonically flexible strict style is thus very similar to the loose style in that both styles posit to sit in between the strict style and the free style. In the loose style, the fluidity of certain pitch classes that allowed them to drift by syntonic commas created a style of music that always changed its implied harmonic center; the music continually oscillated between, say, D Dorian, C Ioanian, and A Aeolian. In the enharmonically flexible strict style, similar kinds of subtle modulations happen, but here without the pitches drifting in intonation any more than 5 cents. For me, the result is a stimulating balance between a fixed scale and an ambiguous and polysemic pitch space.

Figure 37

The piece in which I took this idea perhaps the furthest was the viola or violin solo piece Rosor och så liljor. This piece uses a simple 7-tone strict style scale, but by allowing each pitch to move within no more than a 5 cent radius, a very rich gamut of other harmonic possibilities is opened up. Because of the complexity of this particular scale, I even decided to not notate this piece exactly with JI-accidentals, but rather to introduce a combination of cent-deviations, JI-accidentals, and ratios. A brief excerpt of how the notation would look in normal JI notation is given in Figure 37; it looks like a very untrammeled free style piece. The chosen notation in Figure 38 instead reveals this freedom to be contained within a very strict 'grid' that is the 7-tone basic scale with only a 5 cent flexibility to each scale step.


Figure 38


A similar effect happens in my big keyboard piece Som regn. In that piece, the pitches obviously cannot move because of the fixed tuning, but I decided to anyway notate the implied harmonies in a similar way as in Rosor och så liljor. Here, the cent deviations show pitches' out-of-tuneness rather than how much they have to be adjusted. Som regn operates in many ways like an enharmonically flexible strict style piece but the pitches have to be adjusted 'in our minds' rather than on the instruments. In that sense, this music functions a lot like a kind of temperament in the sense that pitches can have multiple spellings. Figure 39 shows a brief excerpt from Som regn; note how the A and E are notated in different ways depending on the harmonies. The A is both an 11/9 to C as well as a slightly out-of-tune 8/7 to the B-, and it is often difficult to choose which interpretation should be favored. The A is in other words polysemic and multi-stable; both interpretations are correct. This is why it makes sense to call these kinds of tunings temperaments even though no pitch technically has been 'tempered'.


Because the piece is written for a tuned instrument, there are also instrumental idioms such as the use of untunable melodic intervals that suggests that the music should be classifiable as being in the informed style of strict style as a 'tuning'. In Table 3 where many of the different styles are summarized, this kind of 'JI-temperament' is listed as a sub-category to both the informed style of strict style as a 'tuning' and the enharmonically flexible strict style.


Figure 39

Conclusion

My main purpose with this text has been to give the reader an insight into the craft of writing tunable music in an idiomatic and integrated justly tuned idiom. The text began with a basic description of what JI is. It was emphasized that JI is about tuning sounds to resting, fused, periodic entities. As a microtonal system, JI is therefore not only introducing to musicians new interval sizes and microtones and asking them to approximate these as closely as possible in performance–although it does that too. Since rational notation frequently is used primarily for such a solely microtonal purpose, that kind of practice needed to be clearly distinguished from the integrated JI focused on in this text because it uses JI to generate very different kinds of music. This practice was bracketed as microtonal music that uses JI-type intervals.

Research has shown that most music of the world is performed by primarily reproducing pitches in correspondence with cultural and stylistic norms, but the musician performing integrated JI is not only reproducing pitches (although they too must rely on mental representations) but is also tuning them to each other in an interconnected, tunable harmonic space. The very method of playing pitches is, therefore, different in integrated JI compared to most other types of music. The compositional craft needed to facilitate this is, likewise, very different from most other compositional crafts. It is the composer who ultimately has to ensure tunability by connecting tunable intervals into a tunable path

But if all intervals in a JI piece had to link into each other by directly tunable intervals, like a domino show or a relay race, it would not even be possible to play a simple ascending 5-limit diatonic scale in JI since both of the major seconds 9:8 and 10:9, as well as the minor second 16:15, are untunable. It was thus established that a piece in JI does not have to be restricted to only use immediately tunable intervals. The reason for this was found, on the one hand, in our capacities to tune to the short-term retention of previously heard pitches, and, on the other hand, in the possibilities of contextual, modal tuning—the possibility to rely on an emergent tunability of sorts. Although these two types of non-simultaneous tunings are impossible to achieve with the same accuracy as simultaneous tuning—they are weaker and considerably more unreliable—, the effects they have on performing and composing JI are still significant.

Given these basic premises, the claim was made that a big part of the craft of JI consists in providing each piece with something we might call a proper balance between tunable and untunable intervals. What constitutes a proper balance is, however, not yet easily defined by any rules, and the composer is left largely to rely on her own developed sensitivity for tunability. After giving an initial example of the workings of short-term retention by showing how the same pitches in a melody could be shifted around to constitute either a favorable or unfavorable balance, our attention turned to this text’s main topic of modality. It was noted that the proper balance between tunable and untunable intervals was affected by whether the modality in the piece was strong or weak. The simple claim made was that strong modalities afford worse ratios between tunable and untunable ratios, and weak modalities necessitate a higher proportion of immediately tunable intervals. A continuum of modal strength was stratified into three different basic styles of integrated JI composition called strict, loose, and free. The main bulk of this text then discussed each of these styles separately. 

In the integrated strict style, a strong modality affords a balance between tunable and untunable intervals that is quite generous on the untunable side; untunable intervals that are part of this mode, such as Pythagorean thirds and sixths, can sound more correct than their unavailable, tunable 5-limit variants as long as these are properly prepared. Integrated strict style pieces achieve this strong modality by the exclusive use of a small, fixed, gamut of pitches.

Pieces in the free style are generally characterized by a huge—theoretically unlimited—gamut of pitches. In this style, the composer is not helped to facilitate the performance of correct intonation by any unifying modes or tonal hierarchies other than the ones temporarily arising; intonation is based mainly on the immediately surrounding pitches and temporary reference points. The free style is, therefore, the style that is the most fragile and that demands the most careful writing. Here, the balance between tunable and untunable intervals has to generally be such that the majority of pitches are directly tunable.

In the loose style, a hierarchical ordering of pitches influences the intonational 'fluidity' of pitch classes. This hierarchy can create a preference for some untunable intervals over changing these intervals to their tunable comma-variants if the pitches in question are high up in the modal hierarchy and structural in nature. These pitches high up in the hierarchy are more vividly retained by short-term memory and can be relied upon as tuning references even after other pitches that might provide conflicting tuning references have been played. Pitches lower in the hierarchy have inverse characteristics. Here, tunable Ptolemaic intervals are generally preferred over untunable Pythagorean intervals, and the short-term retention of these pitches is weaker. In practice, it means that the structural pitches high up in the hierarchy are immovable and behave as in the strict style; changing the intonation of these pitches would imply a strong modulation. The pitches lower in the hierarchy are behaving in a free style manner; changing these pitches does not necessarily imply a modulation but can either go by completely unnoticed or, if articulated so in a composition, imply a subtler modulation. This loose style is thus the middle ground between the strict and free style, including elements of both.

An important theme in this text has been the search for a way of theorizing that corresponds to how we perceive pitches when listening to JI music rather than only reflecting the compositional techniques used to write them. The impetus for this theme came directly from issues arising primarily in the free style, loose style, and strict style as a 'tuning'

In the free and loose styles, the question was posed if we hear different pitches comma-distances apart as different categories or if we hear them, as in Western classical music, as different intonations of the same focal pitch classes. We saw that it was not possible to answer this question with a universal affirmation or negation but rather that our answer changed depending on which particular piece we discussed. Some (or, as was suggested above, most) pieces give rise to a grouping of ratios into focal pitch classes, but stylistic choices, often involving minimalistic aesthetic choices, can give rise to a perception where such grouping does not happen as easily and where comma variations are possible to hear as separate categories. Within the free style and loose styles, two possible sub-categories were therefore gesticulated toward: a style that readily invites separating comma-distanced intervals categorically, and a style that readily invites a simplified organization of comma-distanced pitches into focal pitch classes.

When discussing the strict style as a 'tuning'–which refers to strict style written for fixed-pitch instruments–, the possibility to construct rational tunings, by way of using primarily complex ratios, in such a way that they completely obscure the harmonic origins of rational intervals was mentioned. This led to a discussion of how to best analyze such music. The question was posed if this kind of music adequately can be said to be in Just Intonation. When the ratios between pitches that are separated by many tunable steps become too complex, we no longer perceive them as being in JI. In my clavichord piece I Sommarluft, for example, the common minor third between “128/81” and “15/8” generates the ratio 1215/1024. This interval is a schisma higher than the Pythagorean minor third of 32/27. The interval is thus an out-of-tune variant of an already untunable interval. In the first movement of I Sommarluft, where such intervals abound, there is very little information reaching the listener that the piece she is listening to even is in JI. Within the strict style as a 'tuning' category, the sub-category rough strict style as a 'tuning' was therefore introduced to account for this phenomenon. It contrasts with the informed strict style as a 'tuning' where the ratios still have their tunable relationships retained due to the closer proximities in ratio lattices and more compact and clearly articulated harmonic spaces used. 





Table 3

Many of the categories and sub-categories mentioned in this text are summarized in Table 3. These categories should by no means be thought of as rigid 'genres' of JI music; there are many instances of JI music that defy the application of these categories altogether. Instead, they are best seen as describing points on a highly malleable continuum. On his continuum, many pieces move back and forth between at certain times strongly embodying the characteristics associated with certain styles, and at other times embodying the characteristics associated with other styles. Among the excerpts used in the text, a piece like Vid stenmuren blir tanken blomma starts in the loose style, at times even intimates a freer approach indicative of the free style, and finally coalesces into something that in the end sounds and behaves like strict style—but that still has the presence of two pitches only a syntonic comma apart, which technically would define it as being in the loose style. Another piece discussed that moves between different styles is I Sommarluft. The music of this piece oscillates between the rough and informed styles of strict style as a 'tuning'.

Other pieces do not so much move back and forth between different styles as much as their general style is difficult to determine. An example of this was Sommarberg, i glömska. It is hard to know if we should analyze this music as expressing a loose style collection of pitches or rather as different closely related strict style collections that the piece frequently modulates between. At certain times, it embodies the qualities of both. Two other pieces not discussed in this text, Densamma tystnad and Framför stillheten use scales in which certain pitches have enharmonic equivalents while other pitches also have syntonic variants, generating scales that have the characteristics of both the enharmonically flexible strict style and the loose style, meaning that their proper category is the enharmonically flexible loose style.

The different styles outlined here are thus not to be thought of as rigid labels put on musical passages but rather describe behavioral tendencies. Used in this way, one can say of a passage that it inhabits strict style-type behavior or loose style-type behavior even if the passage does not neatly fit into either category. When we looked at Prisma Interius VII by Lamb, describing the music as inhabiting both free style and strict style characteristics as well as moving between integrated JI and microtonal music that uses JI-type intervals provided us with a way of talking about the use of rational intervals and intonation in this piece even as the categories did not, as they rarely do, fit perfectly.

The styles should furthermore not be thought of as compositional techniques; this would run the risk of justifying bad writing by referencing the theory of the styles. One could then, for example, write an untunable interval and argue that this is acceptable by simply referencing the loose style and a table of structural intervals without relying on one’s ears. One could also, as another example, let a passage quickly rise in comma levels, which often sounds jarring, and then justify this by pointing to the score where everything looks good because the music is comprised exclusively of directly connected easy and tunable intervals.

The concept of different styles of JI composition can provide some insight into our subjective interpretations and be used as compositional tools. They can help us understand why a particular passage may look tunable but is not (see Figure 27, the early version of the piano trio att sjunka i doftande klöver), and why a chord may seem jarring but is not (see Figure 8, the 'major triad' from the violin and viola duo Vid stenmuren blir tanken blomma). Additionally, these styles can serve as useful conceptual tools for collaboration and communication between composers and musicians.

Looking at Table 3, it is clear that when a composer describes herself as 'working with JI', her practice can entail very different things. One composer might be involved with working only with re-tuning instruments or building new instruments and composing for these sonorities as if they provided a unique collection of microtonal pitches—not thinking at all about concepts like tunable paths and the balance between tunable and untunable intervals. Another composer, who writes for intonating instruments, approaches JI only as a micro-tonal system, not interested in whether certain intervals interlock to create the fused identities of justly tuned intervals. Yet another composer might be primarily concerned with creating tunable paths and tunable harmonies by working with a highly specialized mode of counterpoint and melodic writing in JI to ensure this. These are three fundamentally different practices, but by building upon Lou Harrison’s principal idea of free style and strict style, I have sought to establish a common language and framework for them.

Besides the themes of tunability and pitch category perception, the third theme of this text has been the poetic and affective implications of the different styles. We saw how strict style pieces often embody clear affects, or rasas, where pitches have distinct affective flavors. We also saw how in the loose style, subtle yet affectively charged modulations can be achieved by changing the intonation of certain pitch classes by commas. Free style, in turn, can give rise to a fluid, liquid sensation of pitch, always in the 'present moment'—unpredictable and lacking in the affective glue that binds the music together into the strong modal rasa-s of the strict style.

Throughout the text, it has been emphasized how crucial it is for the composition and the intonation system to speak in a single voice and strive toward the same artistic goal. On the one hand, a piece like Wolfe’s STEAM makes use of the Partch instruments as 'found objectswithout any subtle consideration of their intonation, but this is not a problem because the artistic effect of that piece is that of masses moving with a rough, loud, and intentionally inelegant attitude. On the other hand, Harrison’s Simfoni in Free Style uses melodies and motifs from Harrison’s usual arsenal but then overlays them with a radical, freely floating intonation that makes the music sound out-of-tune; here, the elements of the composition are not speaking in a single voice.

Just Intonation composition is still in its early days despite the fact that Harry Partch's seminal book Genesis of a Music was published back in 1949. Few musicians master the skills necessary, and few pieces get adequate performances. More practical research through composition and performance is needed in order to be able to answer the two major questions underlying this text: "What is a reasonable balance to have between tunable and untunable intervals in order to provide the musician with a tunable path?" and "to what extent can we tune to non-simultaneous sounds?" It seems to me that any future formulation of the 'rules' of JI composition is dependent upon the answers we get from these questions. 

In this text, I have, through excerpts from my compositions, been trying to advance such an understanding by discussing how the balance between tunable and untunable intervals impacts pitch perception. I must admit, however, that my compositions are filled with flawed tunable paths. There are multiple reasons for this. The first one is that intonation is, after all, only one parameter of music and some people would even call it a subtle one; it is not uncommon to let other parameters sometimes take the upper hand in an artistic decision that results in less than optimal tunability. The second reason is that if you have a piece where all intervals are always harmonically tunable, this will create a certain mode of listening that is constantly focused on fused harmonic sounds. In pieces such as I den gyllne luftenOfferblommor, and Minnets svala flod, almost every sonority is tunable, and this creates a minimal margin of error on the side of the musician since it for the listener becomes so obvious when the musician plays out-of-tune. In these pieces, it can feel like everything has to be completely in tune, as the music can't avoid creating a rasa of pristine clarity. This kind of situation can become frustrating for both the performer and the listener alike. A much more leisurely listening experience is achieved in pieces like mot våren bortom havet or Vid stenmuren blir tanken blomma, where the prominence of untunable intervals blocks the establishment of such a rasa of pristine clarity. In pieces such as I den gyllne luften, we can at worst stop listening to the piece and start listening to musicians tuning. To interpolate this kind of music with a few untunable intervals here and there can function to prevent this rasa of pristine clarity from becoming prevalent and invite a more relaxed listening.

I believe that a piece of music doesn't have to consist only of directly tunable notes, but that untunable pitches should be related to a tunable context, where they are introduced and established as having a tunable origin. In my own compositions, I aim for the piece to "teach" the microtonal characteristics of notes by itself, rather than requiring the musician to learn them elsewhere. To achieve a balance between melodic flexibility and tunability, I rely on working modally. A completely free style is not practical, and neither is a strictly 'microtonal' style. Working with clear modes, where notes not only have a derived tunable relationship to each other, but also possess unique microtonal characteristics associated with affective qualia, is the method that I have found most compelling in my own work.

In order to advance the craft of JI, it is at the present moment perhaps more important to write tunable pieces and work towards more tuned performances rather than trying to formulate any rules and guidelines about melodic writing and counterpoint in JI. Furthermore, a fuller understanding needs more solid evidence than the experience of just one composer. My hope, however, is that the experiences and findings shared in this theoretical text will contribute to the intersubjective understanding and inspire a few of the countless number of composers and musicians working with JI to similarly share their findings from their own practices. Eventually, we might move closer to having an idea of what the craft and 'rules' of JI composition could entail. At such a point, perhaps a true master of JI counterpoint will come about and write smooth, unflawed, tunable lines that perfectly balance tunable intervals with interpolated untunable intervals. Hopefully, then, my rough attempts in these early days might still carry a primitive, naive charm, similar to the one that we might perceive from the earliest tonal composers working at the cusp of the transition from modal to tonal music in the last days of the 16th century, long before the codification of that system and the advent of its masters a century and a half later.  

Notes

[1] In this text, harmonic ratios are notated with a “/” and melodic ratios with a “:”. When ratios are used to signify scale degrees in a scale or gamut, double quotes “ ” are used. Sets of scale degrees to form a mode or scale are notated in brackets “ [ ] ”. For example: In the mode [“9/8”, “5/4”, “3/2”, “5/3”], the melodic leap between “9/8” and “3/2” is a 4:3 and the harmonic sound of playing them together is 4/3.

[2] Because this text will mostly discuss music in 5-limit Just Intonation, the minus and plus signs “- / +” are used in the body of this text to indicate syntonic commas (21.5  cents). 

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