A participatory movement/sound piece which relates a performance space to the space of the page, thereby exploring the space completely over the course of the performance. Sound is used to highlight aspects of the performance area. This is a work in progress.
A hybrid piece about the technological ways we capture memories and how captured memories relate to recollection. This piece uses field recordings collected by the composer across a 12-year period, narration and the sounds of live photography.
Aides memoire is the title of the performed piece, with POV being the title of a byproduct piece created from the photos taken in the performance. POV takes the form of a video comprising the still photographs from multiple cameras from a single performance, giving a different view of that performance from documentations captured of the performance itself:
Community of Objects explores the private act of performing and the private space of the score within the situation of a public performance. The piece’s score is also its principal instruments – a collection of handmade paper boxes that are handled with gloves and bare hands, and which are destroyed during the performance.
The sounds of the piece are chiefly the sounds of paper-handling, crumpling, tearing, etc. These very quiet paper sounds are interspersed with sounds and actions prompted by the contents of the boxes, discovered by the performers over the course of the piece. The box contents (which are likely to be different at each performance) relate to the uses of boxes in everyday life, and to the material from which these boxes are made – paper.
Opening the boxes before the performance is forbidden, and as they are destroyed after they have been opened, the sense of private experience when performing this piece should be heightened – as the performer, you are the only person (apart from the composer) who will ever experience this set of boxes, and, crucially, you are the only person who will ever get to experience discovering the contents for the first time. It is hoped that the experience of performing the piece will be one of curiosity and occasional delight.
Community of Objects was written for Plus-Minus Ensemble, who gave the first performance at Bath Spa University in May 2017 and will perform it again in March 2018:
It has since been performed three times by Bastard Assignments. The following video was taken in the Britten Studio at Snape Maltings:
Audio-only recording of Plus-Minus Ensemble’s performance at City, University of London, 27 March 2018:
Peruse the performance notes (use full screen option for easier reading) or download the PDF (119KB)
Writing about Community of Objects
- 20 June 2017 – Curiosity Inspired the Cat, by David May
- 28 September 2017 – Interpretation, personality and non-rehearsable music, on this site
- 9 January 2018 – The Intimate Score: Prioritising performer experience in Community of Objects by the composer, published by Question journal
- 11 April 2018 – Anti-theatricality, on this site
This piece is a score which was created from the process outlined in dot drip line line. It was created for a performance at Bath Spa University with Open Scores Lab and explores ideas of gravity and the action of natural forces.
dot drip line line 8317: Fall is for four performers, one of whom (the ‘dripper’) will need to be equipped with an amplified jar of water and a small pipette.
While based on dot drip line line, this is a standalone piece and does not require performers to complete the notebook process in the original work.
More information about dot drip line line can be found here »
Paper for cello and video works with sounds suggested by interactions with paper – drawing, erasing, cutting, crumpling, and allowing paper to uncrumple itself – sometimes imitating the sound that would be made, sometimes translating those sounds into more ‘musical’ versions. The piece uses a video score, which is also projected for the audience to see. However, the audience also sees additional material after the cellist has finished playing, allowing for a closer observation of the visuals without the distraction of sound and for the possibility of the audience being able to recreate the sounds associated with the imagery in their imaginations.
The visuals show the composer interacting with paper and follow an increasingly detailed trajectory – from wide-angle shots showing the composer’s workspace down to very close-up footage revealing the texture of the paper used and playing with focus.
There are clear correlations of sound to visuals throughout the piece with sonic/technique relationships sometimes tying together visually disparate imagery.
Paper makes much use of extended techniques and while simple in form poses challenges for the performer of timing and theatrical awareness to pull together the performance and the video so that the cellist onstage is a critical visual element in the piece.
Text score for a performed piece of any duration for any number of performers.
This piece is currently in development. At present, the intention is:
The score for this piece contains a simple text which each performer should use to create an entire notebook of variants which will serve as a handbook of ideas from which to develop a live performance version of the initial score. The notebooks should be displayed (open at a single spread) where the audience can see them at the performance. The variants may be drawn (using wet and/or dry media), collaged, described, included as video or audio of a performance interpretation (performers may want to consider the use of QR codes to include these digitally recorded versions in their books), or any other form or media that comes to mind.
The final performance may take any form the performer chooses. Performances that are created as scores become separate but related works, which can be performed in future by performers who have not undertaken the notebook process.
Current scores developed from dot drip line line are:
trainlines is a piece for private performance on an intercity train. It is a text score for an improvised performance consisting of simple drawing and listening, suitable for performance by people who don’t usually perform or draw. As it is a private performance, there is no need to announce what you are doing – it is simply performing for your own pleasure. Each performance will result in a unique drawing, some examples of which are displayed below.
If you have performed trainlines and are open to sharing your experience, I would love to hear your thoughts on the piece and see a photograph or scan of the resulting drawing. To share these, please email me at trainlines [ at ] caitlinrowley [ dot ] com or tag me on social media.
Fortune Favours the Brave was written for flautist Jenni Hogan in 2016. The score of the piece is in the form of a Chinese-style handscroll, crafted by the composer out of 4.7 metres of shot silk and 4.5 metres of rice paper pages which contain the handwritten music and notes.
An exploration into ideas about how we choose to accept or reject challenges, Fortune Favours the Brave takes the form of a ritualistic game. After each movement, the flautist lays down her instrument and tosses a coin to determine whether she should play or skip the next section. She then decides whether to accept or reject the coin’s declaration and performs a gesture of acceptance or rejection accordingly. Having done this, she moves the scroll on to the piece she has decided to play (which will be the next section or the one following it) and performs it.
The music contains a range of extended techniques, including multiphonics, deliberate audible breathing, key clicks, tongue rams and various windy tones.
A radio edit version of Fortune Favours the Brave was performed by Jenni Hogan on BBC Radio 3 Hear and Now as part of Bastard Assignments’ live set performed at Southbank Centre. This broadcast also includes a brief interview with the composer. Hear it on iPlayer until 24 October »
Photographs by Dimitri Djuric from the premiere performance at Bastard Assignments: NEW TEETH 1.
A site-specific text score written for Bastard Assignments’ Sound Walk With Me around Blackheath on 12 June 2016. This was part of Trinity Laban’s Diggin’ Blackheath event.
Gravel engages with the remnants of Blackheath’s many gravel pits which were quarried for limestone gravel in the 18th and 19th centuries. The ideal location for its performance (although not the one used for the event, due to various factors) is Eliot Pits (location on Google Maps) which is quite easily accessed from St Austell Rd, Blackheath.[Please note that Eliot Pits contains uneven and sometimes boggy ground.]
To perform this piece, you will need a small handful of gravel. Download the score here (PDF, 37K).
A work in progress which combines electroacoustic music and live performance, Things I Found In Boxes explores ideas of memory and self-identity through objects and was developed following an extended period of sorting through belongings I’d stored in Australia for a decade.
The first section of Things I Found In Boxes, “Opening” was performed by the composer at Bastard Assignments: Fresh & Clean 3 at Block 336 Gallery in Brixton in February 2016. This section explores sounds produced by packing materials – principally cardboard boxes, tape and newspaper. This section comprises a static tape part with a part for live performer playing a cardboard box full of screwed up newspaper. Photographs are by Dimitri Djuric.
The rest of the work is currently under development.
On an extended visit back to Australia after seven years away, I found myself homesick for England. The contrast between the soggy grey British early winter I’d left and the Australian summer I found myself in was extreme, and these pieces reflect those contrasts. Combining photographs of Australia with textual recollections of England, and each of them posted to a different recipient, they sit somewhere between art, imagined music and poetry and explore remembered and imagined sounds.
Homesick Piece No. 1: At 42 degrees Celsius
for Edward Henderson
Homesick Piece No. 2: After days of torrential rain
For Timothy Cape
Homesick Piece No. 3: Tube mice
For Alexandra Kremakova
Homesick Piece No. 4: Lazy Saturday morning
For Josh Spear
A musique concrète miniature based entirely on recordings of hazelnuts.
Manifesto was devised as an audiovisual piece developed using Max/MSP. It was the product of the very last weeks of my Master of Fine Arts research project, At the Borders of Music, Art and Text: Exploring an interdisciplinary approach to composition and incorporates several key concepts from that research:
- The use of ‘amateur’ activity within my professional practice
- The use of limitations
- Embracing chance
- Visual material as music
The ‘amateur’ activity includes using myself as the performer, using multiple layers of improvisation, working with video as well as audio, and – in particular – my decision to create this piece using Max/MSP, a programme with a famously steep learning curve, and to have the piece begun and completed in the last six weeks of my degree.
This last idea was a little too ambitious – tackling a project like this while finalising a major work for my portfolio (Crossing Dartmoor), writing a 10,000-word dissertation and doing all the bits and pieces that finishing up a major project entails. But the work has in the end been completed within about six weeks’ total work… spread over about 18 months.
The first three audio sections (Rhythm/Delays, Slurps/Granularisation, and Sung tones/Pitch processes) were completed and submitted with the project, with the fourth audio section (Sssssssshhhhhhh/Feedback) and the two video pieces (Paper River, and Dirty Lines) being created a few months later, within the framework of Creative Pact 2014.
Each piece worked with limited material created by me (one audio file of vocal/body-percussion improvisation, or one or two video files) and a limited range of processes. A time limit was set for creating each patch, which was then used to improvise up to 10 versions of the section, with the one that worked best being chosen for the final assemblage.
My original plan had been to create a Max patch which would pull all the sections together and assemble a final version on the fly according to a set of rules which would define parameters for the random selection of sections and their start/end points and durations. Quite a lot of work was achieved on this, and I am immensely grateful for the assistance of Max/MSP guru Justin Capps who helped me out when I got stuck. However, this just didn’t work out how I’d hoped it would, so ultimately I compiled a finished version using Logic and Final Cut Express, but using the initial rules and determining the timing of changeover point using random numbers generated in a spreadsheet. Start/end points were determined by visual adjustments in Logic, rather than by aural selection, with minor clean-up being applied to smooth transitions.
This work is a response to my 2014 Credo.
Artwork commissioned by Janet Oates for the exhibition ‘Closet Music: Imaginary Soundworlds’ at The Proud Archivist gallery and cafe in Haggerston, London (14-28 September 2015). The brief was to create a new black & white work to the idea of “what does music look like?” and the subsequent print was exhibited in the exhibition and reproduced on vinyls for window display at the venue
A text score for performance on London’s Peckham Rye by any number of performers.
Download NO DOGS score (PDF, 14kB)
Sounds We’ll Never Hear is an installation which explores physical recording media’s issues of longevity, how sound and imagination interact, and visual contexts for sonic content.
The installation was prompted by seeing Rose Finn-Kelcey’s The Magpie’s Box (1977) at Tate Britain. A box containing a range of magpie-related materials, including a reel of tape described as ‘audio tape of magpie sounds’, Finn-Kelcey’s work prompted me to think about how a recording in this context can never be heard because it’s been incorporated into a visual artwork – it is no longer a sonic object but a visual one. That led on to how the viewer is entirely dependent on the artist’s description of the recording to shape how they think about it (what sounds they might imagine, how they view it in the context of the rest of the work, etc.) – their experience is formed second-hand, as it were, because they cannot just pick up the recording and play it.
Sounds We’ll Never Hear takes these concepts and works with them in a playful way. Presented in archival boxes, padded and lined with felt, each recording is displayed with a card which tells the viewer about the sounds on it. The presentation of these recordings as a) damaged beyond use and b) as part of a visual artwork doubly negates the possibility of the statements on the cards ever being verified. Are the labels accurate or do they mislead us? We’ll never know…
So far, Sounds We’ll Never Hear comprises three items from the SOUNDS WE’LL NEVER HEAR archive, sourced from charity shops and a personal collection. Click to view larger images:
a very private performance was written in response to ideas I had about performance and my mindset when performing and how the experience of performance differed from other times of facing fear. It was also written in response to needing to have a tooth extracted… Performance as a defence against everyday fear. In case you’re wondering, psyching myself up for the extraction by preparing as if for a performance really did help!
If the image is too small to be read, click to view full size.
1200RPM is an exploration of a limited number of sounds from a single original recording over an extended duration.
It can be downloaded as part of the album 1200RPM:RPM2015.
The first of a proposed series of experimental pieces involving cake. Cake Piece takes the simple act of cutting a cake into pieces and transforms it into something at first amusing, then dark and disturbing.
Cake Piece uses a text score and is suitable for performance by amateurs.
- Download the score (PDF, 64Kb)
Photographs from the premiere performance by Caitlin Rowley (baking, voice) and Edward Henderson (knife) by Alex Waespi (click thumbnails for full image):
goats explores drawing as a sonic experience, and can be performed using a contact microphone to amplify the sounds of drawing for the performer and for any audience. This piece could also be performed by multiple performers simultaneously or in sequence, or by a single performer drawing over recordings of previous drawings.
If the image is too small to be read, click to view full size.
The first performance, at Colourscape Festival 2016, was for a single performer using pencil, technical drawing pens and charcoal pencils on cartridge paper. 3-4 minutes was allotted for each drawing, resulting in a series of quick sketches, and each drawing was recorded into Logic using a contact mic, then played back while creating the next drawing, resulting in a layered performance which was broadcast live throughout the venue.
“Put something in a box that will make a noise when dropped. It should not be obvious by looking at the box what noise it will make. Drop the box.”
Extending the concept of the video series HearSee, Drop (Not Schrödinger’s Cat) moves into the realm of live performance. A simple, even anti-climactic, piece, it uses the same ideas of what is unseen but heard as in the video pieces. It is up to the performer whether to reveal what is/was in the box after the performance or not. Audience members are welcome to guess.
The parksong series – an ongoing series of experimental vocal works – are musical compositions presented in the form of visual art prints. Drawing on verbal scores, visual representation and subtleties of language, they are visual art which is music; recordings which cannot be listened to; scores which do not explicitly invite performance.
Developed as part of her 2013-14 MFA research project ‘At the Borders of Music, Art and Text: Exploring an Interdisciplinary Approach to Composition’, the ongoing development of parksong explores Caitlin’s interests in music, visual art, text and the challenging of artistic fear through a lens of amateur practice and private musical experience.
The series currently comprises the four works, three of which were developed during the project:
- the line of my voice
- i sing myself a circle
- private static
The graphic elements of each piece are drawn or created manually, then scanned into photoshop where they are combined with digital text before being professionally produced as giclée prints on heavy art paper. At present only a single Artist’s Proof exists of each piece, although there are plans to produce an edition at some point and possibly a zine variant of the series when complete. If you would like to know more about these works and the edition plans, or to request notification when editions are available to purchase, please contact Caitlin.
HearSee is an ongoing series of experimental video compositions which explore memory and the use of amateur skills within professional practice
A large-scale song cycle for tenor and piano, based on the Dartmoor textworks of British sculptor Richard Long, Crossing Dartmoor is a long-term project which will eventually consist of around 26 performable items. The singer chooses their own path through the material provided, with a minimum of five pieces constituting a ‘complete’ performance of the cycle. As such, Crossing Dartmoor is currently complete enough to provide several variants of such a performance, consisting as it presently does of around 40 minutes of audio material plus videos.
The cycle also exists as an arrangement for mezzo-soprano and guitar.
Full information and recordings of Crossing Dartmoor are available on the project’s dedicated website at crossingdartmoor.uk.
Preview the score of Crossing Dartmoor (click on the score to view full-screen):
Sepiascape with Grey is a graphic score commissioned by Valentina Pravodelov for her MMus vocal recital in January 2014. Destined to be performed in the context of a programme of darkly urban popular music by bands such as Massive Attack, Portishead and Joy Division with a backing band of guitars, keyboards, backing vocals and drums, it incorporates a short text which mashes up a single line from T.S. Eliot’s poem The Wasteland with words selected by the composer:
under the brown fog of a winter dawn
The score was created using sepia acrylic ink (using a dip pen with copperplate nib, and as a wash) and black watercolour overlaid with digitally created handwritten text.
It is dedicated to Valentina Pravodelov.
Parlour Game is a conceptual, improvisatory Christmas piece for three or more singing performers (either acting singers or singing actors) with a sense of adventure and a taste for silliness. It is based on the children’s game Chinese Whispers, in which text is whispered from player to player, becoming corrupted and less and less intelligible as it moves through the group.
The ‘score’ of Parlour Game consists of a page of instructions and 8 slips of paper which contain four graphic suggestions for melodies and four suggestions of ways of speaking. This is the foundation of the piece. The first performance was augmented by readings from Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, and the provision of ‘rumours’ to the audience in handmade paper fortune cookies (made with Christmas origami paper!). The rumours were all lines taken from A Christmas Carol, but could be anything that fits the occasion, and of course, audience members can always make up their own rumours.
The piece can run for any duration, although less than about 7 minutes would probably not be effective. The first performance ran for 12 minutes.
Four Black and White Pieces is a set of four graphic scores ‘for any number of performers or imaginations’. Created for the Closet Music ‘Travel Pack’ project, which was looking for postcard-sized pieces which could be used by travellers to imagine their own music, even if they didn’t read musical notation, Four Black and White Pieces is also appropriate for (audible) performance. The four pieces can be performed in any orientation, either sequentially (in any order) or simultaneously. If there is more than one performer, they can either all work from one Piece, from different Pieces, or from the same Piece in differing orientations.
As with my other graphic score works, the interpretation of the images is entirely up to the performer(s) – my interest in this form of notation is in enabling performance, and in seeing what performers bring to the work. I don’t specify certain elements to represent certain musical concepts because, in my control-freak way, I feel that if I want a melody that is ‘this’ shape, I should just write out the notes myself. I love hearing performers create sounds I wouldn’t ever have imagined with these pieces – every performance becomes a composition lesson.
A short experimental piece for solo flute, written entirely on a single note, D, Gasp explores tonal variety on the flute by using different types of tonguing, harmonics and breath sounds.
For my teacher Stephen Montague’s 70th birthday celebrations, the composers at Trinity Laban were all asked to write a ‘piece on a postcard’ to celebrate the occasion. Glacier, for Stephen Montague is my contribution to this project.
Given that Stephen’s role as my tutor is largely to help me explore more experimental ways of thinking about music, I didn’t just want to write a piece but wanted instead to do some small-scale exploration. The postcard I used (pictured below) was one I found in a secondhand bookshop in Greenwich, Halcyon Books and is of a painting of the Glacier of Rosenlaui in Switzerland by John Brett. I started thinking about creaking ice and how I might be able to create a similar effect on the piano. The work uses mostly the strings inside the piano and largely consists of scraping a card up the strings towards the hammers, and striking the strings with card, the hand or the fingers. Keys are depressed silently in order to create pitches to reverberate after the action directly on the strings.
The performance here is by Caitlin Rowley, from a private performance at Trinity Laban Conservatoire of Music and Dance, Friday 3 May 2013.
Watching the Streets of Zurich and Brussels was the first piece I created for February 2012’s Lucky Dip album project. It consists of two improvised flute lines (played by me) combined with field recordings I made in Zurich and Brussels.
The graphic score version of Carrion Comfort was created as part of the process of writing the orchestral work of the same name. It is a painting in gouache which I painted as an intensity map of Gerard Manley Hopkins’ poem Carrion Comfort to help me work out the structure of the orchestral work. Having shown it to Stuart Russell on Twitter, he suggested that it could be interpreted as a standalone graphic score – and proceeded to create an electro-acoustic piece, called C.C. – After Caitlin Rowley, to prove it. Since then the piece has also been performed by Yorkshire new music band Midnight Llama.
Read about the creation of the Carrion Comfort graphic score: Work in progress: Carrion Comfort 4 – Going back to the source & ending up in unexpected places
Nightride was written as an assignment for the Australian Film Television and Radio School’s (AFTRS) 1998 Screen Composition Course with Jan Preston. We were given a short film, stripped of its original score, and asked to write whatever music we wanted to for it.
Nightride, directed by Martin Murphy, is a short horror film about a serial killer on a night bus. None of us had seen it with the original score (which won its composer, Carlo Giacco, Best Achievement in Musical Score at the Exposure International Short Film Festival in Brisbane in 1997) and it was fascinating to see the very different approaches all the composers came up with for the same visual material – and all of them different again from the original score when we finally heard it.
My version ended up being heavily influenced by having to work around technical issues. The soundcard in my computer at the time turned out to have neither chorus nor reverb effects available so I chose my sounds largely on the basis of which ones had a kind of inbuilt reverb – harp, piano sounds at the very bottom of the range, I think there’s some brass sounds used outside of the actual range possible on a physical instrument too. I also decided that I didn’t just want to compose to the obvious emotions going on, but wanted to highlight some of the nastier aspects of the film and use contrast to increase the tension. One of the delicate solo harp passages underscores a visual of blood running down the bus’s steps.
Jan Preston described my Nightride score as ‘containing flashes of brilliance’.
You can see the original film of Nightride (with Carlo Giacco’s score) online at Google Videos
Saturday was one of my first film scores. It was written in a day for a ‘live’ animation being created in Newcastle by animator Leo Martyn.
The film was a comic look at routine and how people fall into daily patterns that are hard to break. I wanted the music to be cyclical to reflect these patterns, so the work is structured around a sequence of bars: 1 – 1,2 – 1,2,3 – 1,2,3,4 etc. up to 12. The abrupt change in pace towards the end of this extract was dictated by the pacing of the film.
I later arranged Saturday for double string quartet as twelve, and it was chosen for a CD project of works for string ensembles by young composers.
The Saturday score is entirely MIDI-generated, using marimba, vibraphone, piano and string sounds
My first film score, Toybox was written for a student documentary being made at Macquarie University in Sydney. The film was focused on people’s reminiscences of toys they’d had when they were children and the score used MIDI sounds such as music box, harp and kalimba.
Toybox won 3rd prize in the Documentary section of the National Student Film & Video Awards and was screened at Sydney’s Valhalla Cinema.
Written for Sam Grinsell for February 2012’s Lucky Dip album project. I wanted to create something that had ties with Sam’s own work (which often consists of improvisations over field recordings) but which at the same time would subvert that. Sam’s music is very beautiful and often very peaceful, so I created a tape part which was aggressive and harsh and made a graphic score to guide Sam loosely through it.
The title is a reference to a story the great Flash designer Josh Davis told at a design conference I went to many years ago in Sydney. He showed us a beautiful, delicate animation in silence and told us how he took it to his sound designer, showed it to him and then, by way of explaining what he wanted said “I want it to kill people”. I loved the idea that something so gentle and beautiful could be so violent and it really summed up what I wanted to do with this piece.
haiku I started life as a student exercise for Peter Sculthorpe’s Composition Workshop at Sydney Uni. Given 10 minutes to come up with a short work drawing inspiration from haiku poetry, I composed a short piano piece using the pentatonic scale and drawing its musical structure from the poetical structure of haiku – 3 lines (sections) of seven, nine and seven syllables (bars) respectively.
Originally written for ‘normal’ piano, haiku I was reworked for prepared piano* in 1998 and recorded (rather erratically…) by the composer as a score for Simone O’Callaghan’s web film Fetisssh (no longer online).
* The piano is prepared by attaching metal paperclips to some of the strings of the piano