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ELECTRIC LADYLAND BY BEAN WITH GINO ROBAIR, Electronic Musician, Apr 1, 2001 Artists who customize or build instruments to realize
their singular artistic visions often make the most exciting music.
Three female performers who take that route - Krystyna Bobrowski, Miya
Masaoka, and Kaffe Matthews - make groundbreaking music that transcends
gender and conventional musical expectations. Composer and instrument
builder Bobrowski integrates a curious collection of organic materials
with motors and contact mics for extraordinary performance-based installations.
Composer and performer Masaoka blends computer-enhanced instruments,
gestural language, and assorted living creatures to express a musicality
that melds futuristic and ancient sensibilities. Sampling wizard Matthews
works with found sounds in an immersive improvisational performance
environment. KRYSTYNA BOBROWSKI Many of Bobrowski's installations employ simple mechanical devices in novel ways, often using a computer for control or data processing. She especially enjoys working with motors and contact microphones in conjunction with natural materials. As if to prove the point, Bobrowski's work space is strewn with everything from electronic parts to large pieces of drying bull kelp. ROCK ON When she borrowed rockers for the piece, Bobrowski found that owners had stories to tell about their chairs. Those tales inspired her to create themes for each rocker. "Each chair includes a speaker that plays prerecorded material relating to the theme of the chair," she says. The first chair features recordings of Bobrowski's grandmother reminiscing about the artist as a young child. In addition to recordings of her grandmother's voice, the chair was amplified by contact mics. Bobrowski created a program in the Hierarchical Music Specification Language (HMSL) to interpret the data initiated by the rocking motion. She used an Anatek Pocket Pedal to translate the voltages into MIDI data. "As a person rocks back and forth in the chair,
a mercury switch senses its position," Bobrowski says. "The
switch data is translated into a MIDI message, which is fed into the
HMSL program on the Mac. That, in turn, triggers samples of my grandmother
speaking while simultaneously fading the speaker volume up and down.
There's a nice interaction between the voice and the chair. My grandmother
has a very high voice with a thick accent, which blended really well
with the squeaks of the chairs." She dedicated a different chair to her father. That chair rocks on amplified nuts and bolts while playing recordings of Bobrowski's father singing lullabies over the phone. Still another, the "news chair," plays sound bites from a talk-radio station while rocking on amplified newspaper. Not surprisingly, Bobrowski dedicated the chair to friends who obsessively listen to the news. The "rap chair" rocks on an amplified car hood, which triggers rap beats as it creaks and thuds on the hood's uneven surface. Bobrowski immersed another rocker in a pool of amplified water, accompanied by an ocean soundtrack. The smallest chair is a child's rocker, which sits on a speaker. Rocking the chair triggers loud squeaks that are pitch-shifted down until they sound like violins and cellos. "Although it was the smallest chair in the room, it was the loudest," Bobrowski says. "But you couldn't sit in it. You had to push it with your hand." Bobrowski put on a performance version of Rock On called Rock Her at the Alternative Museum in New York City. For that incarnation, she choreographed a quartet of performers in prepared rocking chairs. RIGHT AS RAIN For Playing Rain, Bobrowski uses a dozen brass flower vases that are scattered throughout the columbarium. As visitors pour water through the vases, the liquid drips onto plates with piezo triggers strategically placed underneath to sense the droplets. The piezos are connected to a Roland PM16 pad-to-MIDI interface that sends input data to a Mac for triggering samples of gamelan instruments. "The first time I heard gamelan music, it reminded me of rain," Bobrowski says. "I used gamelan samples in this piece because of their chimelike quality, which seemed to fit the theme of the performance environment. "The water droplets trigger samples with randomized pitches in a Javanese tuning system," Bobrowski says. "However, the rhythm of the samples is in sync with the drips. This gives control over the density of the sound to the visitors of the exhibit." Bobrowski is also interested in the contrast between the way musicians and computers perform similar musical tasks. The performance version of Playing Rain pits performers against a computer as both attempt to synchronize with the drips. The musicians play melodic gamelan instruments known as slentem, gender, and saron, in 5- and 7-note tunings called slendro and pelog, respectively. Bobrowski uses a Peavey DPM SP sampler as the computer's sound source. Because the gamelan instruments' bars are highly resonant, players must dampen a ringing note before striking a new one. The combined striking and damping action limits the speed at which performers can play wide intervallic leaps. At high speeds, the musicians tend to play in limited areas on their instruments and cannot hit octaves or achieve as wide a range of notes as easily as the computer can. "The piece begins with the instrumentalists trying to sync with the drips," Bobrowski says. "As the piece progresses, the dripping frequency increases, and it gets too difficult for the musicians to keep up. The computer then attempts the same process, which results in a contrast in errors between the human performers and the computer. Both make mistakes but in different ways. For example, the computer often interprets a quick succession of drips as one drop. Also, the sounds are sometimes triggered by the computer so quickly that you end up with a series of drones - especially when the piece is played in a reverberant space." STRINGS AND THINGS In a variation on the instruments-played-with-motors theme, Bobrowski wrote a score in revolutions per minute for her piece 0002?2000 RPMs. In that piece, Bobrowski gives performers handheld motors with wooden dowels attached to the spinning shafts. Little flags of tape attached to the ends of the spinning dowels are used to play the instruments. Although performers control their own motors, the composer controls one section of the piece with a Variac. The instruments - acoustic and electric guitars, cello, and violin - survived the lashings unscathed. PLUMES AND FOLIAGE "When you play sounds through normal loudspeakers, you're usually looking for the purest representation of the original sound," Bobrowski says. "I wanted to take environmental sounds - in this case, sounds involving leaves - and see what happens if you play them through the material itself. I was interested in hearing the resonances and filtering effects that would result from playing leaf sounds through leaves." LIQUID AUDIO "The Gliss Glass is based on a simple property in physics where a body of water tries to return to equilibrium due to atmospheric pressure," Bobrowski says. "By raising or lowering the glasses, the performers disrupt the equilibrium in the entire system. As the glasses are played, the audience hears rising and falling glissandi as water enters or leaves the glasses, respectively. The Gliss Glass gives you the sonic impression of this physical phenomenon. "When I built the instrument, I was thinking of closed systems, such as our ecosystem or the body's circulatory system," she says. "There are a lot of analogies you can draw from this instrument based on hydraulic principles." Bobrowski created Oceans in a Box for six female vocalists and the Gliss Glass. Each vocalist plays one glass, usually one that best matches her vocal range. The piece is a structured improvisation using graphic notation that indicates valve position (see Fig. 4), glass height, glass types, and vocal sounds to be used. In the score water flow is the basic time structure rather than metronome markings. The musical result is an exquisite blend of slippery harmonics and vocal and glass textures. MIYA MASAOKA The main motivating factors behind Masaoka's work are sound exploration and its relationship to the audience. However, her desire to expand the traditional playing techniques of the koto, a zitherlike Japanese instrument, fueled the development of her electroacoustic invention, the Laser Koto (see Fig. 5). "The Laser Koto combines the traditional Japanese koto, in this case a 21-stringed instrument, with a computer interface and controllers," Masaoka says. "I use several different controllers - pedals, sensors, and lasers - and have a library of more than 450 samples of koto-related sounds. The challenge is to have immediate access to this tremendous number of samples in a musical way during a performance." EXTENDED BODY LANGUAGE Masaoka began using this performance setup to trigger sounds and control feedback. Through trial and error, she and DeMeyer found that some ideas that worked well in STEIM's studio did not work as well on stage and vice versa. "Sometimes too many samples or processes would get triggered when I moved my hands," she says, "so we were always fine-tuning the system. For example, in a 6-foot range of the instrument, you could trigger dozens of samples or six samples, as well as have different degrees of effects." Returning to STEIM with a laser harp designed by Donald Swearingen and built by Oliver DiCicco, Masaoka continued to develop performance techniques while she explored ways to map performance gestures in an electronic environment. Swearingen's laser design uses a grid of sensors mounted on a pair of camera tripods that flank Masaoka's koto. In performance, she uses a can of Fantasy FX smoke spray to highlight the laser beams and to reveal the virtual instrument to the audience. Along with her SensorLab voltage-to-MIDI converter, Masaoka uses a combination of STEIM's Spider and Cycling '74's Max software. An audio feed of the music created live is routed into Max, where her samples archive is organized by timbre and pitch. While she plays, Masaoka mixes and matches her phrasing on the acoustic instrument with the phrasing in the samples. Because of Masaoka's fine use of extended techniques and her subtle control of the balance between the electronic and acoustic sounds, it is often difficult for the listener to discern the real koto from the virtual one. That is the exact effect Masaoka strives for. "Having such a huge range of sounds available - and to be able to work with the computer in this way - is very exciting," Masaoka says. "The Laser Koto expands people's awareness of the koto as an instrument. The physicality required to play the instrument is something I've always emphasized; whether I'm bowing or scraping the instrument, it's a very physical act. The Laser Koto is an extension of this, meshed with the Mac G3 PowerBook." Masaoka believes that the relationship between acoustic and electronic music is closer than most people think. To extend her instrument's timbral range, Masaoka often prepares the koto by weaving objects between the strings. For example, she emulates synthesized sounds by bowing a small cymbal stuck between the strings. As a result of her years playing Laser Koto, Masaoka has created a gestural and timbral language all her own. She plucks, strums, scratches, and bows the koto acoustically while waving her hands through the laser beams to layer an additional 12 koto-derived sounds. Complementing Masaoka's fully loaded PowerBook is a DigiTech TSR 24S connected to a MIDIWizard RFX Foot Pedal, which she uses for changing patches. At home she relies on a Mac G4 with Digidesign's Pro Tools and BIAS's Peak for recording, sampling, and editing. Currently Masaoka is collaborating on new developments for the Laser Koto with Matt Wright from the Center for New Music and Audio Technologies at the University of California, Berkeley. "The ongoing development of the instrument has been with the help of Matt - right down to the core of the whole system, including how the pedals, samples, and controllers work together," Masaoka says. HOW DOTH THE BUSY BEE In Bee Project #1, Masaoka combines violin, percussion, and bowed koto with an amplified beehive onstage. The piece sets up an interplay between the musicians and bees that highlights the slowly developing rhythmic patterns created by the droning hive. During the premiere performance, the drones were punctuated by the occasional solo statement of a stray bee near a microphone. Masaoka also fashions pieces that use the human body
as a canvas on which she builds dramatic soundscapes and confronts the
audience with issues of gender, sexuality, and ethnicity. One such piece,
Bee Piece #6, was a collaboration with Joe Anderson, a specialist in
sound spatialization. For that piece, Anderson's SoundField ST250 4-capsule
microphone is cautiously lowered into a beehive while videos of bees
navigating Masaoka's body are shown (see Fig. 6). Anderson's careful
placement of speakers throughout the venue lets the audience share the
experience of being inside the hive. Masaoka relies on the human body for the material in Naked Sounds. "In Naked Sounds, I'm treating the body as a potential orchestral source," she says. "Using medical equipment, I chart and interpret brainwaves, heartbeats, and the sound of the blood coursing through the veins. The brainwaves are output as a musical score that can be realized using Cycling '74's Max and MSP or performed by musicians. The subject's brain activity can also be translated into MIDI data. The interface I'm using for this piece is the Interactive Brainwave Visual Analyzer from IBVA Technologies." (For more information about IBVA Technologies, see "The Outer Limits" in the August 2000 issue of EM.) "I think of the skin as a barrier between the internal and the external world," Masaoka says. "The sounds from the body reveal what is hidden, what is undiscovered. These sounds are always there within us but are so mundane and functional that we ignore them. Naked Sounds reminds us of what lies within."
"By working with sound generated at the performance or in another space at the same time as the performance, you're bringing in another place with all its dimensions and history," Matthews says. "It doesn't just expand the sonic palette. It also means that the musician is actively using place and event as material for real-time perversion." An impromptu trip to study drumming in West Africa laid the foundation for Matthews's complete immersion in electronic music. The journey came at a time when she was open to deep listening and could sense the effect of small changes on a complex sound's tonal characteristics. AUDIO HARVEST Matthews revels in the experience of creating something fresh and unexpected every time she plays. She occasionally works with prerecorded material but only if the sounds are extraordinary, such as the kite-flying samples she created during a recent trip to the Scottish Isles. Matthews arrives to performance venues early to assess their layouts. Before a show begins, she places lavaliere and PZM microphones around the venue to capture diverse sound material. Then Matthews pulls out the gaffer's tape and judiciously embeds the microphones within the environment. Often the best material comes from close-miking a sound that changes regularly, such as a fan, water faucet, or beer tap. Matthews usually designates another mic for ambience and might strategically hide it beside unsuspecting diners, patrons at the bar, or near another club's sound system. The artist reserves the third microphone for a prime location within the performance space so she can resample herself as she plays DISCOVERING LISA Matthews takes full advantage of LiSa's ability to control sampling and processing using MIDI data from external controllers, such as a keyboard, faders, pedals, or strings. For example, Matthews uses the PC-1600x to send sampling commands and to play samples. She employs foot pedals to send continuous controller messages or to determine a loop's starting point or length. LiSa also lets Matthews immediately access and play the samples in a variety of layered combinations. The sonic results range from fuzzy, chopped, and twisted to eerie and ethereal. Matthews runs LiSa on a Mac G3 PowerBook; she also uses a Behringer 8-channel mixer and a Boss SE50 FX unit, in addition to the PC-1600x. She occasionally augments that setup with ultrasonic tracking sensors for converting movement into MIDI data. This allows a dancer or audience member to use his or her body to produce sounds, whether deliberately or unintentionally. Although Matthews has collaborated with a number of choreographers, she generally prefers to use unwitting participants as primary contributors to an event. STAY TUNED Through self-reflection, research, and good old-fashioned hard work, Bobrowski, Masaoka, and Matthews have developed highly individual approaches to music making that transcend technology. Whether it's transforming physical phenomena into sound, extending a classic instrument's vocabulary, or using the environment as source material during an improvisation, the restless energy these artists exude will keep them at the forefront of creative music for years to come. A visiting scholar at Carnegie-Mellon University, Bean is tearing up the school's Entertainment Technology Center while teasing new ideas for collaborative music-making schemes from the students. Gino Robair is an associate editor at EM.
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