Moon Palace I

Moon Palace I takes its title from the novel “Moon Palace” by Paul Auster and is loosely influenced by the following quotation from the novel: "I had jumped off the edge, and then, at the very last moment, something reached out and caught me in midair. That something is what I define as love. It is the one thing that can stop a man from falling, the one thing powerful enough to negate the laws of gravity." (Auster has authorised reproduction of the quotation) The opening pitches of moon palace I were composed while sitting at the piano exploring the sound of my tinnitus/inner ringing. From an initial rather delicate, graceful presentation of these pitches, the music intensifies rhythmically and dynamically, becoming more aggressive, emphasising the invasive quality inherent in tinnitus. A study at any one time of the pitches and rhythms present in my tinnitus can yield interesting results, the relationship between the sounds heard in each ear sometimes producing unison pitches or clashing dissonances. However, for all the fascination and intrigue, tinnitus can be relentless and disturbing, interrupting concentration and hindering sleep. Moon Palace I is an exploration of these two opposing elements. Laurina Sableviciute gave the first performance at St John's Church, Edinburgh, May 2006. It has also been performed by Tricia Dawn Williams at the Manoel Theatre, Valletta, Malta, November 2011.

Nine for ones in nine: a schizophrenic cyborg love story.

By appropriating the images of the schizophrenic and the cyborg from Deleuze and Guattari, and from Donna Haraway respectively, this paper seeks to discuss the relationship between human and computer, composer and performer in a way that undermines and subverts the normal binaries commonly employed, and even implied in the descriptions of these relationships in this paper. “Nine for ones in nine”, despite employing the use of the OpenMusic software in its composition, retains a degree of choice and indeterminacy for the performers; despite employing the use of precise just harmony in its design and intent, the work depends upon the imprecision of human control rather than ceding to the precision of a synthesiser. Given the vast possibilities opened up to composers by the use of computers to calculate and create sound, why then do composers continue to employ performers in the realisation of their designs, and rely on sometimes hundreds of years-old technology to articulate them in real time? The very social and imprecise aspect of the act of performance is key to the messy, compromised, and complicit product that scores such as Nine for ones in nine aim to produce.