Glenn Stallcop Composer, Performer
Idiomatic Circular Logic
This album is a play on the word turning. A “turn” in music is a melodic embellishment in which a note is modified, or rather replaced, by five notes consisting of the note, the note above, the note, the note below, and the original note again. There are a number of variations on this theme, but they are all basically the same motion. Turns have their own symbol which is an “S” turned on its side that can also have a couple of slashes through it if it starts from below. It became standardized in the Baroque period, but turns are used by composers and performers throughout history. Richard Wagner, for instance, was particularly fond of them.
As you might have already guessed, turns play an important role in this album. You can find them, in various guises, prominently in each track. This was an accident. I didn’t notice it until much later. It became a convenient focus and source of fun.
However, turning is more than just a play on words, it is a fundamental way in which I conceive of music. In many ways, music is an interplay of cycles, like many wheels or gears of different sizes turning together with their own periods. It’s like the inside of an old Swiss watch with second gears, minute gears, hour gears, and twelve-hour gears all turning on their own, together. Music is made up of parts of different sizes – gestures, phrases, tunes, sections, etc., which provide an underlying syntax to the meaning of the notes. A composer keeps track of all this and can either make the intersections clear or not depending on his or her purpose. Keeping track of them spontaneously in real time is a challenge, and part of the joy of improvising. Since making any substantial music decisions beforehand would tend to handcuff my imagination, I often end up simply trusting my intuition to know where I am while I am playing, and letting it help me decide what comes next. Feeling the several gears or levels come to a cadential point can be very satisfying. Indonesian gamelan music is entirely structured around these cycles, with the big gongs only playing at the major intersection points.
The various tracks are, in turn, titled around idiomatic uses of the word turning. As it turns out, there are more idioms than I could use.
IDIOMATIC CIRCULAR LOGIC
This album is a play on the word turning. A “turn” in music is a melodic embellishment in which a note is modified, or rather replaced, by five notes consisting of the note, the note above, the note, the note below, and the original note again. There are a number of variations on this theme, but they are all basically the same motion. Turns have their own symbol which is an “S” turned on its side that can also have a couple of slashes through it if it starts from below. It became standardized in the Baroque period, but turns are used by composers and performers throughout history. Richard Wagner, for instance, was particularly fond of them.
As you might have already guessed, turns play an important role in this album. You can find them, in various guises, prominently in each track. This was an accident. I didn’t notice it until much later. It became a convenient focus and source of fun.
However, turning is more than just a play on words, it is a fundamental way in which I conceive of music. In many ways, music is an interplay of cycles, like many wheels or gears of different sizes turning together with their own periods. It’s like the inside of an old Swiss watch with second gears, minute gears, hour gears, and twelve-hour gears all turning on their own, together. Music is made up of parts of different sizes – gestures, phrases, tunes, sections, etc., which provide an underlying syntax to the meaning of the notes. A composer keeps track of all this and can either make the intersections clear or not depending on his or her purpose. Keeping track of them spontaneously in real time is a challenge, and part of the joy of improvising. Since making any substantial music decisions beforehand would tend to handcuff my imagination, I often end up simply trusting my intuition to know where I am while I am playing, and letting it help me decide what comes next. Feeling the several gears or levels come to a cadential point can be very satisfying. Indonesian gamelan music is entirely structured around these cycles, with the big gongs only playing at the major intersection points.
The various tracks are, in turn, titled around idiomatic uses of the word turning. As it turns out, there are more idioms than I could use.