Continuing from my last post in a "what I did this summer" at music camp kind of vein, I had one other burst of creativity (?) come from our daily piano seminars. A student had gotten up to play the breakneck final movement of Beethoven's "Moonlight" Sonata, and in the moment, this reminded me of a commercial from about a decade back.
That video will also show/remind you how this music is supposed to go - before it becomes literally monotone. [The logic of the ad itself is so bad that I had no memory of what product was being advertised, so it took me a little while to track it down.]
That then reminded me of this amusing video in which a quirky Internet Piano Guy tunes all the keys on his upright to E and then springs the trap on a a few online teachers. As in the ad logic above, he complains that his playing "sounds kind of uninspired." (The first five minutes are the best part):
The dozen or so students in the seminar (ages 8 to 16 or so) loved both videos, so it occurred to me that it would be fun to let them try this out. Of course, there's no way I could re-string a piano, but I figured there must be a way to program a computer to accept input from a digital piano and send back...well, whatever. (I already have a digital piano on hand in the room to pair with the "real" piano so more students can practice sight-reading at a time.) There are probably simpler ways to do it, but I found a way to set up Ableton Live to re-map each key to C, so the next day we gave it a try. It was interesting to see the range of reactions. Some students were immediately amused and intrigued and others just seemed annoyed. Meanwhile, I found that I really enjoyed the feeling of playing one thing and getting this quirky feedback. It's especially fun to play fast passages since playing repeated notes quickly is notoriously difficult on a piano action, but here it's a breeze!
Even more so, I also enjoyed playing with the repeated notes on (playing through a speaker attached to my computer) while the digital piano's regular sounds played as well. It creates an interesting, ghostly echo/halo around the music. Because the setup I created required remapping the keyboard octave by octave, I didn't try to change the "one note" from C to anything else, so for my demo video below, I mostly explored music in C Major or A Minor. From a tonal perspective, it's quite interesting to hear the tonic constantly articulated (like a pedal point) as it makes it immediately obvious how far we've strayed from home base.*
For whatever reason, with my setup, although one can hear some variety of dynamics and articulations, chords don't really seem to register as much more than just single notes. That's something I'd like to improve, but for now I chose mostly linear music that I could stumble through without practicing. I also chose familiar pieces since that makes it easier to hear the hidden structures. For most of the selections, you'll hear a short excerpt played with only the repeated notes turned on. Then, the same music is performed with the repeated notes as decoration. For the two Bach pieces (a Prelude and a Two-Part Invention in C), I enjoyed the effect so much that I played through the entire pieces in the second manner.
The video begins with Mozart in C with some fast scalar passages and ends with the etude-parody of Debussy's Doctor Gradus ad Parnassum,so those two excerpts best exhibit the somewhat unreal repeated-note effect. In between are some short bits of Beethoven and more Mozart. Links for each new section are provided in the "about" section of the video. (Beethoven's Für Elise works really well, as it is mostly linear - the excerpts from the 5th Symphony and the first movement of the "Moonlight" Sonata work less well, but they are so iconic, I thought it was worth giving them a try.)
But of course, once I'd thought about remapping the keys, I couldn't resist other possibilities. The most obvious and fruitful so far has been the simplest: reverse everything so the notes go in reverse order. This actually turned out to be even more fun, although again, it would be nice if I had a quicker way to choose the inversion point.
In this case, it's arguable that the "inversion alone" versions sound better than those paired with the real thing because of a curious feature of inverting. Basically, to put it in simple terms, if one thinks of the "white key" notes of C Major and inverts them from the C at the bottom, the pattern of whole steps and half steps reversed means you end up (going down) with C, Bb, Ab, G, F, Eb, Db, C. Not only is this the C Phrygian Mode, which sounds very different from major, but it introduces four pitches which are not in the C Major pitch collection, so inverted music doubled against itself will very quickly use 11 of the 12 possible pitches (F-sharp is the only one left out) which means: lots of dissonance.
Once again, I featured parts of Bach's prelude and 2-part invention in C along with Mozart's C Major sonata, Beethoven's Fur Elise and Symphony No. 5 and the Debussy Gradus ad Parnassum. To these are added Debussy's Golliwog's Cakewalk, which a student had played in class and which creates a really fun inversion of itself that is quite recognizable due to the syncopations, and the complete first of Poulenc's Mouvements perpétuels. That last one is the most fun because incidental spicy dissonance is already part of the original, and the inversion of the balanced left/right hand parts is quite satisfying. As with the first video, using the embedded chapters in this video makes it easy to sample the various experiments.
I can easily imagine some people thinking I'm wasting my time with this. Among other things, it would be trivially easy simply to drop this music into a DAW as MIDI and create the same repeated note or inverted effects. In fact, I've done this kind of thing before. What was different for me in this case was the experience of playing familiar music and having these odd artifacts of remapping sounding instead of what my finger-to-ear system expects. Perhaps it's a little like speaking English but somehow having the words come out in French - there's an "out of body" element in play.
For pit musicians who play musical theater keyboard parts, they are used to having notation instruct them to trigger various sounds and musical ideas by using remapped keys, but even that's not quite the same. (Come to think of it, probably the first experience I ever had of this was playing a John Cage prepared piano piece in high school.) Here, the ear is teased both by the familiar and the unexpected. Again, this is not for everyone. One very talented little seven-year old with perfect pitch was simply confused and spent her time at the instrument trying to get things (like "Mary Had a Little Lamb") to come out "correctly." But others found it really enjoyable and just plain fun in the playful sense. I could even imagine that playing either setup could help with practice and memorization in some contexts.
Other setups I've experimented with include: 1) remapping all keys to be either C or F-sharp so that everything comes out tritones and 2) remapping all the keys to be C but moving up by octaves going up the keyboard. It is also possible to program keys to respond randomly, but that seemed a little less interesting, although some "controlled random" might yield interesting results.
So if you've ever felt like everything you do just comes out the same or comes out the opposite of what you expect...perhaps you'll enjoy this light summer fare!
*It now occurs to me I should also try music in F Major in which C is both part of the tonic and dominant harmonies. When C is the tonic, the repeated Cs clash a lot with the dominant chord (G Major), but that does help emphasize the tonic-dominant polarity.
Just finished the first of two two-week music camp sessions on Friday, and this year's interactions with talented young students have inspired a few new creations. I'm still working on showcasing something else, but here's something unexpected. A couple of very sweet young pianists asked after a piano class one day if I would arrange Debussy's Clair de lune and Beethoven's Für Elise for them to play as a duet. It was only when I got home and started toying with the idea that I put two and two together: these two students are named Claire and Elise.
If you've been around this blog before, it should be obvious that I would find the challenge irresistible - but it was also just challenging. Unlike many other little mashups I've created this year, the Debussy and Beethoven don't pair very naturally, although I have paired Clair de lune with Beethoven before in an even more absurd context. Even when I had downshifted the Debussy from D-flat Major to C Major so that it would merge more gracefully with Beethoven's A Minor (the relative minor of C), it took some finagling to get the motives to play nicely and have a reasonably meaningful conversation. As so often, if this is successful, it is surely in part because both works are so iconic that the listener can enjoy both the recognition and the repurposing of these ideas.
In addition to transposing the Debussy from D-flat down a half-step to C, it also seemed logical to shift this moonlight music up an octave to make room for the more grounded and rhythmically regular Beethoven. There is a slight connection in that both works are in a compound meter (Beethoven's 3/8 vs. Debussy's 9/8), although Debussy's music is written in such a way as to make the meter seem elusive. You'll see that Elise has to wait a little longer than usual to finish a few phrases while waiting for the moonlight to settle into view.
I don't think I'd ever written anything for one piano, four hands before, and to add to the challenge, after finding my digital demos unsatisfying, I decided to record this as well - in spite of having only two hands. I didn't get access to the piano I wanted, so this one is a bit less resonant in the upper register than I'd have liked, but it was a fun process. Because two of the hands naturally inhabit a pretty tight space (one of the joys of piano duets!) and actually overlap in space since they were recorded separately, I faded the videos together which makes for an interesting effect.
Camp #2 starts tomorrow, but hopefully I'll be back soon with more show'n'tell.
In my last post exploring the connection between a Chopin nocturne and Richard Rodgers' Cinderella, I promised another Rodgers & Hammerstein tune connection. It looks like I first wrote about this on Twitter in August of 2013 (just a few months after the May '13 Cinderella-Chopin connection), although I think I'd felt this one for years before that. It should be pretty obvious how these two tunes are related.
One is a transition theme from Mendelssohn's transcendent Piano Trio in D Minor. The other is....well, hear it for yourself. You'll first have to listen to about 25 seconds of pure Mendelssohn as the wonderful opening cello tune is belted out fully, explored sequentially, and then leads right into that transitional theme. I would say it's one of my favorite things in this trio except just about every page has something exceptional.
Again, I can't help but wonder if this music had any influence on Richard Rodgers when he was thinking about frightening barks and bees. Although this melodic figure first drops by 7ths in the violin, when the piano takes it up next, the intervals are almost exactly the same as what Fräulein Maria sings to calm the children. With "My Favorite Things" transposed into the Mendelssohn key here, even the 7th scale degree which isn't immediately raised to G-sharp in Mendelssohn is by the end of its phrase. Here's a quick demo:
Otherwise, the distinctive rhythmic and melodic motives, treated sequentially in both cases (though with an extra sequential extension in Rodgers), are unmistakably similar.
I'll add two little extensions to this blog post. For one, if we're really emptying all the silliness from the "things I do on social media" desk drawer, might as well pull out this very silly mashup of the finale to Mendelssohn's 5th Symphony "Reformation" with the ABBA song "Mamma Mia." I don't even remember exactly why I made this, and you don't get any fun visuals this time. Just sit back and enjoy the short ride.
Finally, as a sort of penance for what I've just done, I'm also releasing into the wild my own family performance of the first two movements of Mendelssohn's trio (the very performance to which Maria was added above!). My psychiatrist-cellist wife, then 14-year old violinist daughter (now working on a Chemistry Ph.D.) and I were styling ourselves as Montrieau (which plays on my last name and my wife's French-Canadian last name), though sadly we haven't had that many more chances to perform this way since. We had performed the complete Dvořák "Dumky" trio the year before, but had much less prep time for my faculty recital in 2013, so we did something I've written about before: we closed the program with only half of the Mendelssohn trio, reversing the order of movements 1 & 2 to make a dramatically satisfying ending.
At the time, I was more concerned about notes that got away (there are a lot of notes), but with the passing of time, I actually find the performances pretty satisfying, if not perfect in balance or execution. So that's Mendelssohn, from the ridiculous to the absurd to the sublime.
Back in late 2024, I started a series of "Emptying the Desk Drawer" posts as a way of writing about smaller multimedia projects I've made over the years which haven't been archived here on the blog. My two recent Chopin-related posts (here) and (here) reminded me of something I'd created back about a dozen years ago. Like my fairly recent mashup of Bernstein and Bizet, I was prompted by hearing a student practicing in the next room. A Chopin nocturne, specifically the middle section starting around 2:00:
I wrote the following on Twitter, though I'm leaving out the link I put there because I have made an improved version below.
Student kept practicing part of a Chopin Nocturne next door - knew it reminded me of something - finally realized [link to solution removed here]
Of course, it is possible that my post title already tipped you off, but Chopin's wandering waltz-like tune led me to Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella: the second phrase of the Prince's "Ten Minutes Ago." You may hear that one-half step up in A Major here:
And you may hear them in concert here:
It's a combination of the lilting rhythm and the repeated, winding C-Db-C-Bb-Ab-Bb-C motive. If we accept my little transposition of the Prince down to A-flat, we have the Prince using this motive to glide across the dance floor while Chopin, starting in the relative F Minor, is in a more pensive and searching mood. Thus, the two contexts sound pretty different, but I still can't help wonder if Rodgers knew or even played this nocturne and had this figure floating around in his brain, though the connection could as easily be a coincidence. (Actually the Cinderella score has this song in G Major which is a half-step down from Chopin. It is also in 3/4 time, but I've converted it to 12/8 to make the connection easier to see.)
I have more mashup material related to Rodgers and Hammerstein, but I'll save that for another post in a day or two. Rather, I will end by noting something that always surprises me. Though I have nothing close to perfect pitch, and that might even have helped me connect these two melodies in different keys, when I listened to the opening of the Chopin, my mind was almost immediately brought to the opening of Chausson's perfect song Le colibri which I've played many times and recorded here as a piano solo. The two pieces each begin with an upwardly rolled chord in A-flat Major with the exact same notes except that Chausson's top note is an F (not part of the A-flat triad), but I'm sure my ear made the connection because they are in the same key. It's almost as if I have perfect pitch as long as I don't ever think consciously about it!
See more dust and lint from the back of the drawers below:
In this relatively fertile spring on the blog, once again we find one post leading to another. In our last episode, we considered the famous Roger Williams arrangement of the jazz standard Autumn Leaves, focusing on the seemingly unacknowledged debt Williams owes to Chopin.
That little project has led me down a few Roger Williams rabbit holes. I guess I'm fascinated by the success of these "popular pianists" who, though surely trained in the classical style, found big careers by playing "easy listening" arrangements of mostly well-known melodies, often with piano set against lush orchestra. The arrangements certainly borrow some flash from the techniques of more "serious" classical and jazz artists, but are contained in simple structures which don't demand so much from the listener. One imagines such records would work well for a certain kind of middle-aged, middlebrow party back in the 50s-70s. The kind of party Benjamin Braddock's parents might have hosted.
Roger Williams parlayed this into a very long and successful career, somewhat on the margins of the industry (not likely to be featured in Gramophone, Downbeat, or Rolling Stone), performing on TV shows and for the kinds of...um...mature audiences who apparently want to sit and hear their favorite records come comfortably to life with some fun banter along the way.
Speaking of which, on "May the Fourth" Day this year (also featured on this blog), the "Roger Williams Music" page on Facebook posted the following short video (and presumably have posted it for many years).
In the video, Williams purports to demonstrate that the famous theme of Star Wars (which came along at a time during which his own star was surely fading while the star of another Williams was rising) is simply the once famous theme of Born Free (one of "Mr. Piano's" biggest hits) turned upside down. Roger Williams claims to read the John Williams tune from a handwritten page, dramatically turns it 180 degrees, and then plays Born Free. Q.E.D. By this process, he is thus born free to play his big tune, and he has a fun little joke for those pesky Star Wars nerds right before he starts. (You'll have to watch it for yourself - I don't want to give EVERYTHING away.)
The problem is that - well, it isn't true. Although the two themes do share some notable features and could be considered distant cousins, he totally cheats! Actually, although what I intend to do here could certainly be considered buzzkilling for the Roger Williams Faithful (let me know if you see one coming after me in a scooter), I think exploring the connections shows something even more interesting about how melodic motifs work.
Remember that Williams turns the page in a way that should result in the notes being played both backwards and with the intervals inverted - what went up should go down and vice versa.
Here's the Star Wars tune as Roger W. plays it, adding in an extra note (the second "5") so that the rhythm also exactly matches that of the Born Free tune without anything being reversed or inverted.
In fact, the only thing that is actually upside down is the first interval which goes up from scale degree 1 to 5 in the former and down from 1 to 5 in the latter. (One is striving, reaching up to the stars! One is relaxed and free, ambling its way downhill.) In Star Wars, we next step down to a triplet while Born Free steps up to a similar triplet. Really, the biggest difference is how John Williams then heroically leaps up a seventh to the final two notes whereas Born Free follows the downward pull of gravity. But the endings are more similar than they may appear as each emphasizes the tonic triad (scale degrees 1-3-5) with solid triadic quarter notes descending from the downbeat. (And although John Williams does leap up a seventh, the motion is by step from scale degree 2 to 1.)
But I'll admit that when I first saw this demonstration, my ears were half-persuaded, even if I felt skeptical. First of all, the last two notes of Star Wars are the first two notes of Born Free, so even though that note pair is not reversed in order, it feels like we've flipped things backwards...maybe. Then we step up rather than down to the triplet, although the triplets are otherwise the same shape...they are neither backwards nor inverted. Then, whereas Star Wars leaps way up to the final note pair, Born Free steps down in a way that also feels like a kind of inversion...even though each final pair goes downward.
So, given that we naturally hear little parts of a tune (motives or motivic fragments) as chunks, there is a sense in which multiple little chunks go in opposite ways. There is no doubt that the tunes have a lot in common, although that leap of a seventh really does give John Williams' tune a charge that stands out. And yes, of course Roger Williams knew this. He's mostly using the power of suggestion and some charisma to make an audience feel smart while they are gently being hoodwinked, but it's all in good fun.
You may compare various versions of these ideas here. Note that inverting a melody is not as simple as it seems because one can decide to keep the notes in the same key (in this case, no accidentals) - and thus adjust some half-steps - or do a literal inversion which makes the music seem to move into a different key altogether. For simplicity, I chose the former.
And why did I take the time to do this? I guess it's just that - as mentioned in my "Music = Math" post which led me to mashup Chopin and Dr. Dre - I love the way these kinds of musical questions about iconic themes can be reduced pretty clearly to notes and numbers. And I love moving notes and numbers around on a page. And it is interesting that two such different themes have so much in common. (See Bernstein's lecture on The Infinite Variety of Music. And for another look at a relative of the Star Wars theme, see this blog post.)
If you're writing a melody, it's a reminder that maybe instead of going down 2-1, a leap up a seventh from 2-1 can blend resolution (2 wants to go to 1) with drama and intrigue. This actually came up in a brief post-postscript to this post when I looked at how Fauré' uses this technique in his own musical postscript to a lovely song. (By complete coincidence, that post also began with a reference to the Star Wars franchise!)
Finally, once I'd mostly finished this post, I did a little search and see that someone on a Star Wars music blog beat me to most of this more than ten years ago. But he didn't have a video demonstration or nearly as many painful puns.... (And speaking of puns, note that if John Williams had indeed stolen his tune, then it would not have been born free; he would owe royalties to the true father, James Bond composer John Barry.)
P.S. If you like thinking about inversions and retrogrades and other ways musical ideas can be transformed mathematically, you might also enjoy this post.
LYRIC POET: Are we embarking on a study of the meaning of meaning? YOUNGER BROTHER: I sure hope not. (from Leonard Bernstein's The Joy of Music)
NOTE: There are more than 550 possible outcomes.
About Me
MICHAEL MONROE
I'm a pianist and college music professor in the Boston area. This is not me. Neither is this. Curiously, these most Googleable Michael Monroe's are each musicians. This IS me.