with special guest Kathleen Supove 2012.04.07 Richardson Auditorium in Alexander Hall, Princeton University The Princeton Laptop Orchestra (PLOrk) presents an evening of music performed by members of the Spring 2012 PLOrk classes
1. From the Waters Anne Hege For me, there is something inherently
magical about the laptop orchestra. It has seemingly endless potential,
and somehow, I imagine if anything where to bring a spirit back, this meshing
of machine, man, woman, and music would be it. For those of us who grew
up thinking that a time machine was a beautiful Delorean, or a space-like
pod could merge man and fly, the hemispherical speaker of the laptop orchestra
and the slim lines of the tether controller convince me that this is the
vehicle for speaking with the beyond. My thanks to Maya Deren for her inspiring
book Divine Horsemen: The Living Gods of Haiti, Rebecca Fiebrink for her
fabulous application the Wekinator and all her help building this piece,
as well as the performers of Middle Passage (an earlier version) and From
the Waters, Dan Trueman, and Rinde Eckert, for their feedback and advice.
This is a study in using the onboard
laptop sensors and digital signal processing to augment the human singing
voice. The singer voices are captured, processed, and controlled by
tilting of the laptops, to expand and transform the choir. Long live
laptop orchestras (and choirs) 3. Walo Lainie Fefferman This is one in a series of pieces I'm
doing that are meant to be portraits of the ensembles playing them
(very meta!). I like the idea of a piece of music that acts like a
visual art portrait – you
get to see something of the artist and something of the subject at the
same time and the whole thing feels really personal. The voices you’ll
hear in this piece are all founders, members, and former members of PLOrk.
I love PLOrk and I love these guys and I hope you enjoy it. (PS. Thanks
to Konrad Kaczmarek for teaching me Max and hearing me whine about how
confusing it is!)
Like a lot of
PLOrk pieces, this piece sends messages over a network to all the players,
co-ordinating musical events across the ensemble. Unlike most PLOrk pieces, the main creative input from
the players involves making all of the sounds that respond to these messages.
All the beeps, boops, hums, buzzes, and samples that you hear in this
piece are the creations of the individual players, while the sequence in which
you hear them is being sent from a central conductor computer. In performance,
the main creative input from players is voting to move from scene to
scene when they get bored with whatever’s happening - once enough players vote to move
to a new scene, the music progresses. The final scene is the end of the
piece, and all the sound stops.
“In roast you are a guest of the ducks - go dream!” This piece is written for an ensemble of instruments designed and built by the composer. The music is inspired by examples of writing that have been discovered but never translated, ranging from intentional codes to ancient scripts for which the spoken language is unknown or cannot be identified.
Victorian Webs is a
fantasy based loosely on Morse code. Listening to the ‘performance’ of
Morse code is mesmerizing – its rhythms falling into musically
unpredictable patterns. The piece uses fragments of Morse code – words,
letters, punctuation – to create a more uniquely musical language.
The bits of Morse code that I use come mostly from the inaugural message
transmitted on the first U.S. commercial telegraph, in Pennsylvania: “Why
don’t you write, you rascals?” The title of the piece is
adapted from Tom Standage’s book The Victorian Internet, which
draws parallels between our own Internet and the Victorian era’s
use of the telegraph to communicate and transmit information over long
distances.
Both Ligeti’s famous Musica Ricercata
II, for solo piano (perhaps most known for its cameo in the Kubrick film
Eyes Wide Shut), and my own Four, for, um, solo 6-string electric violin
(unknown for anything, as far as I know) are spare, spacious pieces,
featuring just a few notes, oft repeated and separated by long silences.
In an experiment in musical vandalism, I have smashed these two pieces
together and filled most of the silences as best I can. At the heart
of this new Frankenstein is a pair of “synchronic metropianos:” laptop-
interconnected, strangely-tuned virtual pianos with embedded, pitched
metronomes (don’t worry if that’s not crystal clear—you’ll hear).
This pair, in tandem with a good, old- fashioned piano, creates a constantly
shifting core of meter changes, among other things. Surrounding this
trio is a cohort of other laptop instruments. Some slowly sustain the piano sounds with modified golf video- game controllers (the tethers,
fast becoming a standard instrument in the laptop orchestra worldwide;
no kidding here!). Others type, creating chattering clusters of clicky
sounds, all synchronized via a wireless network. Finally (speaking of
Frankensteins), others play a bizarre digital hybrid of the flute and
electric guitar (affectionately called the blotar, a brainchild of the
nutty Dr. Perry Cook), also with the tethers (multi-talented, these tethers),
using a neural-network created with PLOrk co-Director Rebecca Fiebrink’s
fantastic Wekinator. Finally finally, the piece closes with the chatter
of as many mechanical metronomes as we could muster, something Ligeti
himself would surely have appreciated. Did I forget anything? I’m
grateful to these wonderful PLOrk students for being so adventurous in
taking on this piece and all the others on this program, and to Kathy
Supové for inspiring this piece at the outset. |