Lara Poe

24/5/2018
Royal College of Music

A Survey and Personal Examination of Microtonal Techniques

Microtonality in various forms has long captivated the attention of a myriad of

performers and composers1. Claes Biehl states, “The question of whether
microtonality could form the basis of a new avant-garde movement, one for the 21st
century, is frequently discussed by musicologists, music philosophers, and composers
these days.” However, is creating such a movement possible or even desirable? It is
more important to cultivate an individual understanding of the subject, and to try to
create a new movement from such a varied and diverse world is a daunting, if not
outright impossible task. I would argue that in order to personally come to terms with
microtonality, it is important to examine how others have dealt with this phenomenon.
Indeed, there is a long history of different microtonal approaches in Western art music
that stretches back to 1918 with Alois Hába’s Suite Op. 1a, and a far longer history of
microtonal approaches in other forms of art music, as well as various folk and popular
traditions around the world.
In this essay, I will first attempt a survey of some ways different composers
and performers from various traditions approach microtonality, and examine the
sound worlds and philosophies associated with these approaches. This examination
will primarily focus on my personal direct and indirect influences in my own work,
and will lead to a personal investigation of how I use these different approaches and
techniques, often juxtaposing unlikely things into something cohesive. I see this
essay as an opportunity to explore people and traditions that have influenced me in
various ways, and find out what the connections are between them, or find out how
different techniques and ways of thinking can be juxtaposed in interesting ways. This
ties into my own ways of working, which frequently involves combining unlikely
elements and finding ways to make unrelated things work together and feel
connected.
Revisiting Biehl’s earlier comment, there is no single microtonal avant-garde
school, and trying to form a basis for a unified 21st century approach to microtonality
is difficult, if not downright impossible. As Biehl writes1, “The application of
microtones” has until now “predominantly been a matter of individual systems and
solutions by each respective composer.” Indeed, to examine the issue, this is what
one must do– examine how individuals have invented solutions and approaches to
deal with microtonality. It is also important to consider underlying threads and
figures: for instance, Harry Partch was an important influence on many American
1
Biehl, p. 158
microtonal composers. In Europe, there have been strong traditions both based on
folk music and the French Spectral school.
Composers such as Georg Friederich Haas have attempted to categorize
different types of microtonal thinking according to such unifying threads. He came
up with four categories1:

 The application of additional pitches to the familiar twelve-tone

chromatic system in equal temperament. This leads to equidistant sub-
divisions of the octave generating a number of pitches either larger or
smaller than twelve (for instance, the 19-tone equal temperament
system which contains 19 equidistant pitches per octave, or the 10-tone
equal temperament system containing ten pitches per octave). This
approach also includes equidistant sub-divisions of intervals other
than the octave.

 The creation of pitch systems whose (just) intervals are based on the
proportions of the overtone series.

 The generation of harmonic beats through the application of very

small yet still distinguishable intervals.

 The creation of microtones through aleatoric means where microtones

occur in a random and/or unpredictable way, for instance, by using
piano preparation, certain percussion sounds, glissandi, or ad libitum
detuning of strings etc.

Arguably it would also be possible to work with originally aleatoric material

that has been written down more precisely. This is something I have explored in my
own work, and under these given categories I would include this strategy in the fourth
category. Biehl is also not satisfied with these categories, and creates four more1:

 The use of other known tuning systems, such as Pythagorean or

meantone temperament, or the application of any other (also: non-
European) tone-systems.

 The establishment of pitch hierarchies based on the re-syntheses of

overtone configurations found in (instrumental) spectra.

 The application of microtones as structural devices.

1
Biehl, p. 158
  The use of unspecified microtones, predominantly as colouristic
devices.
However, this still does not cover the range of different microtonal approaches
composers have utilized in their works, and some of these categories are redundant.
Some categories also need further examination. For instance, Haas introduces a
category that examines just intonation, but I would argue that this needs at least two
separate categories: a more spectral approach to just intonation that looks at JI in the
context of overtone series, and a more harmonic approach that does not utilize an
overtly overtone series based method of composition. Combining this with Biehl’s
list, I would also argue that the Pythagorean or meantone approaches could be
combined with the more harmonic approach to just intonation, and this could be
examined under a broader category of composition that explores different tuning
systems. On the other hand, the more spectral approach to JI is related to the
establishment of pitch hierarchies based on re-synthesis of spectra, which is one of the
chief developments of French spectralism.
Another redundancy in Biehl’s categories is the classification of microtones as
structural devices. This ties into Haas’ idea of unspecified microtones as colour or
inflection, and my proposition of the possibility of specifying said microtones in a
more concrete way. Indeed, Biehl’s suggestion simply points to a larger scale version
of the same idea, and this idea ties into many linear approaches to microtonal
thinking. In examining microtonal approaches in more detail, I will now first
examine linear modes of thinking, and move to more harmonic approaches before
combining these strategies.
There is a long history of microtonal ways of linear thinking that spans various
folk and oral traditions. As Séan Mac Erlaine 1 asserts, the “flexibility of pitch control
and individuality” found in vocal music has “been a source of inspiration for
thousands of years,” long before any western notation strategies were developed.
Most of the music in these traditions has been passed down orally from generation to
generation, and the instrumental traditions in these cultures mirror the “expressive
qualities of vocal music.” This prevalence of microtonality in these cultures
precludes the idea of microtonality as “unnatural” or somehow inaudible to the human
ear.
One such tradition exists in Turkish music. Vocal music of this tradition is
considered the “pinnacle of expression” and instrumentalists are judged based on how
well they bring out the expressive qualities inherent in the voice2. As Iannis Zannos
remarks, “Without pressing this point any further here, let it be said that the ability of
the human voice to produce minute pitch differences or “shades” of intonation is a

1
Mac Erlaine, p. 15
sublimely expressive feature which Near Eastern instrumentalists strive to attain on
most instruments.” This tradition makes use of a “well-evolved system of tuning
which uses twenty-four fixed degrees to an octave,” which are notably not spaced
evenly in intervallic distances, and further embellishes these fixed pitches with added
microtonal embellishments1. As Zannos remarks, “Intervals [in this context] are
identified and intoned not by their absolute size alone, but also by their function in a
melodic context,” as an inflection. “Therefore, different sizes are acceptable or
required in different contexts.”
Spanish Flamenco boasts a similar tradition of microtonal embellishment,
although this embellishment is based on a different set of scales than the
embellishment found within the Turkish tradition. Matthew Machin-Autenrieth
writes2: “In the cante, the Andalusian mode predominates and singers often embellish
the core structure with melisma, microtones and ornamentation.” As Machin-
Autenrieth states, Flamenco was influenced by Arabic music. In particular, the
“Andalusian Mode” “where the interval between the second and third degrees of the
Phrygian mode is augmented” is believed to have been derived from Arabic modes
and Arabic traditions on the Iberian peninsula.

The Andalusian Mode

While the Arabic music traditions did influence Flamenco, these are distinct traditions
that nonetheless contain similar core ideas of microtonal embellishment, even if the
execution of these embellishments differs between traditions2.
There are numerous other traditions around the world that make use of
microtonal melodic expression and embellishments, ranging from use of the blue note
in Jazz, to microtonal fluctuation in Irish traditions. Some systems that employ a
more precise tuning and implementation of microtonal systems include various Indian
traditions, shakuhachi music, as well as Gamelan1.
Various composers have utilized these techniques in various ways in their own
music. For instance, Ryo Noda, a Japanese composer, can be seen applying
shakuhachi techniques in his saxophone piece Maï below:3

1
Mac Erleine, p. 15
2
Machin-Autenrieth, p. 13
3
Mac Erleine, p. 14
This particular approach can be seen in the types of the rapid inflections that Noda
uses at the beginnings of phrases, and the use of grace notes as an expressive device
that is prevalent in this tradition.
From a Western perspective, Bartok was drawn to folk music traditions and
drew inspiration from them for his own music. While he is not known for his
microtonal music, there is an interesting passage in his solo violin sonata, which uses
quarter tone embellishment that is written into the score as follows:

Sonata for Solo Violin, IV, 38-40, original

As Mac Erlaine notes, Menuhin “chose not to perform the piece with the
quarter-tone embellishments,” and as a result, the piece now “exists in two separate
editions – one of which has the quarter-tones intact.”1 The version above, which is
the original, contains the quarter tones, and the version below is the altered edition
after Menuhin.

Sonata for Solo Violin, IV, 38-40, original

In this instance, Bartók “made it clear that the quarter-tones act as

embellishments only and in fact can be omitted as necessary.”1 Bartók draws heavily
upon folk music influences in his work, and this last statement in particular suggests
he is viewing his use of quarter-tones as relating to folk-music traditions of
microtonal embellishment. Bartók and Noda are far from being the only composers

1
Mac Erlaine, p. 12-13
to draw upon folk music influences when writing microtonal music: Rădulescu,
Penderecki, Hába, and many others integrate folk music techniques into their writing.
While Bartók’s use of folk music as a starting point for microtonal writing is
not unusual, his use of quarter tones is interesting, as “Most composers use quarter
tones simply as extra pitches between semitones,”1 and many would not be as willing
as Bartók was to remove quarter tones from their work. Some composers take this
idea of adding notes between semitones to construct new scales, from which they
form a new melodic and harmonic language.
One such composer is Alois Hába, a Czech composer who was one of the first
European composers to explore quarter tones. Hába “characterizes the quarter-tone
gamut as separated into two fields, one comprising the twelve conventional pitches,
and the other half, quarter-tone pitches.”2 In his Suite für vier Posaunen, passages
with chords consisting “purely of conventional pitches alternate with chords
composed of quarter-tone pitches.” The move from one field to another is often
prolonged with voice-leading techniques, particularly with contrary motion. Here is
an example by Hába on how one might move between such fields:

An interesting aspect of Hába’s work is his use of larger scale structures

resulting from what he calls “tone centrality.”2 In this method, “a single tone governs
the harmony of an extended passage, without implying the harmonic functions or
hierarchal relationships that characterize tonality.”2 Of course, if one is dealing with
the interactions between smaller scale and larger scale passages, this sort of
interaction will inevitably produce some sense of hierarchical structure, even if this
structure does not imply tonality as such, and this resulting structure produces
interesting problems if one is specifically trying to distance oneself from creating

1
Skinner, p. 3
2
Skinner, p. 86-88
such structures. Here is an illustration of tone centrality from Hába’s Neue
Harmonielehre1:

In this passage, the bottom C acts as a pedal tone under a succession of chords,
which are derived from voice leading strategies. As Skinner notes, the interval
content of these chords can be “arbitrary, since they are not composed from specific
scale steps.”1 Skinner adds that the “pedal representing the central tone can appear in
the bass, the soprano, or as a part of a melodic motive.”1 Hába’s approach to quarter
tones clearly ties into Biehl’s suggestion of using quarter-tones as a way of creating
larger and smaller-scale structures, which also ties into Haas’ categorization of adding
notes to the octave through different divisions of the octave (24 divisions in Hába’s
case), and using the new pitch space to create scalar and harmonic structures.
Another quarter-tone composer, Ivan Wyschnegradsky, “invented many
systems to organize pitch in his compositions.” While Wyschnegradsky was
primarily known for his quarter-tone works, he also explored other equal divisions of
the octave, including sixth-tones, eigth-tones, and even 31-TET2 on Wyschnegradsky
scale). Here is the scale that he used to construct many of his works3:

At the core of Wyschnegradsky’s compositional strategy lies “diatonic

chromaticism,” which is based on this scale3. As Edward Neeman notes, “Even
though Wyschnegradsky’s scale sounds a lot like a normal chromatic scale, the little
differences count for a lot.”3 The interval content is quite different: “The most
common intervals are the major fourth (a perfect fourth plus a quarter tone) and the
minor fifth (a perfect fifth minus a quarter tone). These intervals occur in the
overtone series… around the 11th harmonic (11/8 and 16/11 respectively).”3 While
this is an interesting observation, Wyschnegradsky was not treating these intervals in

1
Skinner, p. 66-68
2
Skinner, p. 144-148
3
Cincinnati Note: Ivan Wyschnegradsky and Diatonic Chromaticism
a spectral context, as the voicings he uses in his pieces is different from how they
would occur in the harmonic series.
In continuing to work with this new scale, Wyschnegradsky came up with a
circle of major fourths1:

The Wyschnegradsky scale has twenty-four unique transpositions, and this

circle orders the different tonalities so that moving between two adjacent tonalities
changes just one note in the scale1. Thus he uses this system in a way that is
analogous to how a composer writing in common-practice tonality, at least on a
surface level. On a deeper level, he uses voice-leading devices, such as voice
crossing, prolongation, and neighbor-note motions in ways that hark to common-
practice tonality, but his harmonic language differs greatly from traditional tonality.
For instance, the types of sequences generated by a combination of the circle of
fourths and the Wyschnegradsky scale looks something like this2:

1
Cincinnati Note: Ivan Wyschnegradsky and Diatonic Chromaticism
2
Skinner, p. 179
 And here is an example of this sequence in the context of a piece1:

As is illustrated by these two examples, Wyschnegradsky has managed to

create a distinctive way of approaching melodic structures and harmony, although he
does draw on common-practice voice-leading techniques. Learning to hear how
different progressions fit together in this particular system would be an undertaking,
but one could potentially make this argument for common-practice tonality as well.
Overall, the aural affect of this sound world is a colourful one, and the prevalence of
the major fourth is quite audible overall.
Charles Ives also used quarter tones in a colouristic way, even though he only
wrote three pieces that utilize quarter tones. In Some “Quarter-tone” Impressions, he
describes these three pieces as follows2:
The first movement, Largo, is primarily diatonic, using quarter-tones as
passing notes or suspensions and quarter-tone chords as extensions or variants,
though the middle section is of quarter-tone chord extensions.
The second movement, Allegro, for two pianos, one tuned a quarter-tone
sharp, is mostly made of rhythms contrasted or “split” between the two pianos. From
a pure quarter-tone harmonic standpoint it doesn’t amount to much.
The last is a “Chorale” played by two pianos as it stands written for one
piano; there is very little doubling. It attempts to work along the pure quarter-tone
harmonic lines outlined in the second section in this paper, and is based principally
on a primary and secondary chord. A cantus firmus, taken by the upper voice in the

1
Skinner, p. 179
2
Ives, p. 119
coda, is made of a phrase in quarter-tones going to one in half-tones and ending in
whole tones, while the harmonic plan remains throughout on a quarter-tone basis.
As is evident from this description, Ives uses a similar idea to Haba of splitting
pitch space into quarter-tone pitch space and ordinary pitch space, especially in the
second movement. He also uses voice leading techniques inherent to common
practice harmony, but in a quarter tone context. Ives also elaborates on his harmonic
ideas earlier in this same paper. He discusses a chord consisting of C, G, D ¾ sharp,
and G ¾ sharp, which he describes as having a satisfactory feeling, and he states that
this chord should be able to support a quarter-tone melody (by which he means a
“succession of notes fairly evenly divided in notes that are”1 either within the ordinary
chromatic scale or a quarter tone off from said scale. Later on, he explores other
sonorities, stating1:
From a purely sensuous side, it seems to me that the extension of diatonic
chords upward into quarter-tones offers possibilities. For instance, an augmented
major triad in the normal scale and another based a whole tone lower or higher in
the octave above (and [off by a quarter-tone]) gives a feeling and color which, it
seems to me, is not found in any combination of diatonic intervals.
He then goes on to examine further possibilities of juxtaposing diatonic chords
with their transpositions, where the transposition is a quarter-tone off from some
normal chromatic interval, discussing the colouristic effects of these possibilities1. In
the end, Ives uses some voice-leading techniques that resemble Haba’s strategies, but
his intervallic content and colouristic approach wildly differ from Haba’s.
It is fascinating to see how these different composers’ techniques have some
similarities at a basic level– for instance, Haba and Ives both use particular common-
practice voice leading strategies, although the harmonic and melodic structures they
build with these techniques are very different. Wyschnegradsky also uses related
techniques, but ties them into his own scales, which also results in a very different
sound world. On a compositional level, it is useful to observe how all of these
composers approach this material, in order to gain insight into different possibilities
on how various approaches can work.
Once we have observed these different approaches, it is also possible to
combine techniques from different strategies. For instance, it is possible to combine
principles of embellishment originating from folk music with voice-leading strategies
that are influenced by different quarter-tone composers and further elaborated by
myself. Applying these principles together, we can use microtonal embellishments to
prolong and colour chromatic passages in interesting ways. Here is an example of
such prolongation from a solo violin piece of mine called Musings:

1
Ives, p. 114-116
 At a local structural level, this passage moves from an F sharp to an F, then E–
and the E is prolonged structurally through this passage. This E is prolongation is
maintained by the reappearances of the E through the passage, first at the beginning,
then in the middle of the passage, and then as the last note after the dotted crotchet
rest. At the same time, the downward passage behaves as a prolongation of the F,
winding up on an F, which then moves to the upper neighbor G, eventually moving to
E in the end. In a more local level, I alternate between semitones and quarter-tones
for expressive effect, primarily as an embellishment and colouristic device. I also use
these quarter-tones to prolong the passage and control the rate at which the scalar
passage unfolds.
Here is another passage from a string quartet of mine called Divergence
(second movement), which combines voice-leading techniques and microtonal
elaboration in a more harmonic way:
 In this passage I’ve used triads built on neutral thirds to create an unsettling
harmony that behaves as neither major nor minor. Charles Ives “rejects the neutral
third, claiming it sounds too much like a consonant triad with its third out of tune”
(Skinner, 118), but this is exactly why I’ve chosen this particular interval. Two
neutral thirds stacked produces a symmetrical triad that does not sound like either a
major nor minor triad. I’ve based this passage around harmonies that revolve around
triads containing this particular interval: for the first three measures (62-64), the
harmony revolves around an F quarter-sharp triad, then darts off to an A triad at 65,
gradually moving back to F quarter-sharp by 67.
While I’m employing this particular technique throughout this passage, I also
employ voice-leading strategies– for instance, in bar 64 I voice-lead the viola through
a chromatic quarter-tone passage landing back on the same note that I started with, a
C quarter-sharp. This particular passage is also an expressive elaboration. There is a
similar elaboration in the viola at measure 66 as well, and a notable example of voice-
leading at 65 that leads back to an A triad back at 66. Between these two passages
presented here, one can see practical possibilities for how to personally approach
these different techniques set out by different traditions and composers.
Aside from the melodic techniques and voice-leading based linear techniques,
which I have thus far been discussing in this essay, it is also important to consider
harmony-based, vertical microtonal strategies. Many harmonic microtonal strategies
are based on just intonation or other tuning systems. Fundamentally, Just Intonation
“represents a theory of musical intervals and scales based on small integers ratios.”1
Two important advocates of this approach include Harry Partch and Ben Johnston.
Harry Partch “devoted himself to the development of pitch systems based on
Just Intonation.”1 He aimed to extend the diatonic scale resulting from just intonation
by “applying further small intervals to fill the gaps between” inconsistent intervals
resulting from the Syntonic Comma, which is described below1:
The basic JI scale was published by Giuseppe Zarlino in 1558 and
contains the following ratios: , , , , , , , . It is a 5-limit scale and all of its
frequency ratios naturally occur in the overtone series. This scale introduces
three different intervallic steps: (1) a semitone ( ): for instance, between and ;
(2) the “major tone”, the whole-tone : for instance between and ; (3) the
“minor tone”, the whole-tone : for instance, between and . The “major tone”
sounds approximately an eighth-tone higher than the “minor tone”; this
difference is called the Syntonic Comma.

Partch experimented with a variety of scales before settling on a 43-step scale,

which he called his “monophonic fabric.”1 This scale is based on both the harmonic
series, as well as undertone series, based on frequency ratios with 7-, 9-, and 11-
1
Biehl, 166-167
limits. Below is Partch’s representation of a construction he calls the Tonality
Diamond, which represents different possibilities of 7, 9, and 11-limit ratios. As Bob
Gilmore suggests,1 the Diamond is “a mandalic configuration, precise around its
vertical axis: the complement of a given ratio can be found at the other corresponding
point in the other half of the Diamond.”
Partch’s music is mostly written for instruments that he constructed, which use
this 43-note scale. While it is rarely played for its impracticality, Partch’s thinking
was nevertheless highly influential on younger composers like Johnston, and Partch
also raised important questions about accepting compromises such as equal
temperament without questioning them.

Ben Johnston is another composer who finds his own way of approaching JI–
although he finds a different way to tackle the issue. As Johnston remarks, “If cyclic
tuning in perfect fifths is extended further, enharmonic equivalents are multiplied
until we obtain a 53-tone scale, all but eleven of whose adjacent intervals are
Pythagorean commas.”2 He experiments with other tuning systems as well, and uses
a 22-note scale in his second string quartet.3 I have included the first few bars of this

1
Gilmore, p. 465-467
2
Johnston, p. 67
3
Gilmore, p. 482
quartet below to give a glimpse into the interlocking harmonies Johnston uses (note
the use of lines to indicate connecting material)1:

Julia Werntz , a microtonalist who favours the extended equal temperament

methods originally pioneered by composers such as Wyschnegradsky and Hába,
believes that there are “serious, fundamental weaknesses in the theoretical premise of
just intonation.” While she notes that “holes in a composer’s theory or logic may not
always result directly in flaws in his/her music,” she still feels that scrutinizing the
principles behind just intonation is important. Aside from abiding by “grave and
misleading” assertions, JI also contains inherent “fundamental practical limitations,”
and Werntz also believe that “the artistic premise for just intonation warrants
examination.”2
Elaborating on these statements, Werntz goes on to explain why she believes
that the logic behind JI is flawed2. She speaks about the role of acoustics in our
perception of intervals, providing examples of how, for instance, the two intervals
“commonly perceived as consonant, stable, or simple, are the octave and the fifth, and
these coincide with the first three partials. And with regard to dissonance, there
seems to be a general consensus wherein “sharp” dissonances, or tension, or
complexity, are perceived in near unison intervals,” by which she is referring to
intervals smaller than a major second2. She goes on to argue that the “beating
produced by the partials of two tones” close to each other should explain why “equal-
tempered major thirds could sometimes seem dissonant, as well as various other
traditionally consonant intervals that have been microtonally altered.” In fact, JI
composers will “frequently cite” the “beating in the equal-tempered major third” as
“evidence of the inadequacy of equal temperament,” and quarter-tone intervals
derived from an equal-temperament approach to quarter tones could be “unacceptable
according to JI theory, and also could seem dissonant to the new-comer.”2

1
Gilmore, p. 482
2
Werntz, p. 165-166
 Werntz goes on to argue that ordinary “A-flats or F-sharps would create beats
when sounded above C, since they have the relationship of about a semitone to the
third, sixth, etc. partials, and the intervals of a minor sixth and a tritone must therefore
be perceived as dissonant, regardless of whether they are equal-tempered or justly-
tuned.”1 She acknowledges that the major sixth, for instance, does create audible
beats on the piano, and could be interpreted as a dissonance in isolation, regardless of
its use as a consonant interval in diatonic music. “However, to conclude from all this
that the only consonant intervals are the octave, fifth, pure major third, and perhaps
the pure seventh,” she argues, would “obviously be false.”1 She follows this
argument up with the following conclusion1:
And thus it is clear that the overall theoretical premise of just intonation is
flawed, insofar as beating can provide tangible, unequivocal proof of
dissonance/discordance-as indeed it would be untrue to criticize as discordant those
modern extensions of just intona- tion which make use of potentially beating intervals
that have been derived from higher up the harmonic series.
Werntz also makes some important observations about registration of harmony
and register of the fundamental being important. How a chord is spaced in relation to
the harmonic series has a significant effect on whether or not the listener would
perceive that chord as consonant or dissonant1. Also, with higher fundamentals, the
beats within an interval tend to be less audible, and thus the interval sounds more
consonant. She also makes some additional important points: musical context is
important for how one perceives intervals1. Although she talks about this point
mostly in a diatonic context, it is an equally valid argument to make outside of a
diatonic context: for instance, if one is in a pitch environment where there is a
constant saturation of extremely dissonant intervals and clusters, something slightly
less dissonant (such as a minor seventh) could suddenly sound very consonant.
Conversely, if one is saturated in a pitch landscape consisting of extremely consonant
intervals such as fifths and octaves, that same minor seventh could appear to be very
dissonant.
In this article, Werntz makes intriguing arguments, and outlines that JI theory
on its own can be taken with a grain of salt. However, she is perhaps a bit quick to
dismiss some of the arguments of JI theory. Although she does acknowledge that
registration is important, she fails to take registration into account when dismantling
the argument of JI earlier in the passage, as she speaks of higher-up JI-derived
intervals as having semitone relationships to JI-derived intervals with lower ratios
(closer to the fundamental). This is a grave error, as in the harmonic series these
higher-up intervals would present in a higher register and thus sound consonant.
Regardless, both Werntz and the likes of Partch and Johnston offer intriguing ways to
approach harmonic microtonality.
1
Werntz, p. 165-166
 One intriguing composer who used a registral approach to JI, and is regarded
as a spectral composer, is the Romanian composer Horatiu Rădulescu. Rădulescu
created harmonic scales that branched out in a fractal-like way– he would start with a
fundamental, create a harmonic series on top of that, and then start new scales from
the notes of this scale that he just wrote out. As quoted in an interview: “But the
music is large. And it's worth the effort. The intricacies challenge the performers.”
Rădulescu remarks on his piece Capricorn: “in London we played Capricorn
[Capricorn's Nostalgic Crickets for 7 flutes, plus he added 7 bass clarinets] and there
were so many microtones within microtones; the musicians quipped that the piece
was a... “celestial mammoth.”1 Rădulescu uses a less rigorous, strict method than
composers like Partch, and he takes registration into account. The result is music that
sounds ephemeral, and often shimmers in a high cloud of partials resulting from the
juxtaposition of scales derived from other harmonic series.
Because of the luminous quality of his music, as well as his interests in
preserving register and creating a sonic fusion with overtones, Rădulescu’s music is
often labelled as spectral. However, his approach to spectralism greatly differs from
approaches of American composers like James Tenney, and French composers such
as Grisey and Murail. Tenney was “strongly influenced by Partch and Johnston
alike,” but did not adhere to his systems as rigidly as Partch or Johnston2. He focused
on harmonic space as a “kind of abstract, perceptual space which is in some ways
analogous to a physical space.” Unlike Partch and Johnston, Tenney feels harmonic
space is “not symmetrical, and clearly has an up and down.”2
One of Tenney’s focuses was an exploration of how form would unfold
through time and harmonic space. His “Form” pieces were a clear examination of this
unfolding process, and consist of harmonic unfoldings with clearly specified pitches,
but the instrumentation is left open. This creates a wave-like realization, with
different people moving in and out of the texture when they need to breathe, run out
of bow space, or when their note fades to inaudibility. To begin the next note, players
listen and choose a note that is not currently being played, or is not very prominent.
These instructions also encourage a deeper listening experience for the performer than
one would get in a more traditionally written out piece. With this technique, Tenney
achieves a high degree of control of larger scale form, but leaves the details of exactly
how the pieces is executed to the discretion of the performers.
On the other end of the spectrum, French Spectralism focuses on concepts like
harmonicity, inharmonicity, and resynthesis. In his article Guide to the Basic
Concepts and Techniques of Spectral Music, Joshua Fineberg outlines some of the
strategies employed by French Spectral composers. “One of the most basic changes
introduced by spectral composers,” writes Fineberg, “is the generation of harmonic

1
Paris Transatlantic: Horatiu Radulescu
2
Gilmore, p. 484-487
and timbral musical structures based on frequencial structures.”1 He argues that
viewing structures from a perspective of frequencies rather than notes and intervals
gives a clearer picture of structures where the pitch structure is complex, but the
frequency structure is simple (such as the harmonic series). This perspective is also
useful for “creating sounds with a high degree of sonic fusion, since the ear depends
on frequency relations for the separation of different pitches.
Moving along with this perspective, Fineberg characterizes a spectral use of
microtones as “simply approximations of a set of frequencies to the nearest available
musical pitches,”3 and argues that since “the ear analyses structures based on their
frequency structure, the ear is able to hear past these approximations and hear the
underlying frequency structure whenever the approximation is within tolerable
limits.”3 Next, he proceeds to outline some of these possible frequency structures,
many of which are rooted in electronic music or overtone structures, which include
additive synthesis, orchestral synthesis, use of formants, and different types of
frequency and ring modulation techniques.
Moving in line with this frequency-based approach, another spectral
composer, Gérard Grisey “employs the terms Harmonicity and inharmonicity” when
discussing sonic structures2. In his piece Partiels, Grisey used “the orchestral
construct to be within the overtones of a low E”2. Aside from simply creating this
chord from the harmonic series, Grisey has also used the concept of orchestral
synthesis, as the specific orchestration stems from the partials of a low trombone E.
The orchestration of the first chord is seen below2:

1
Fineberg, p. 81-84
2
Mabury, 80
 By Grisey’s definition, this spectrum is “harmonic,”1 as all of the notes are
“integral multiples of the fundamental.” As a formal process, Grisey increasingly
manipulates the notes within this piece, adding “noise” from the instruments, to create
an increasingly inharmonic structure (where the pitches no longer line up to the
harmonic spectrum)1. These concepts of harmonicity and inharmonicity are important
to spectral and post-spectral composers, and expand on the traditional notions of
consonance and dissonance in a useful way.
Another important phenomenon, which connects to harmonicity and
inharmonicity, is the occurrence of beating. Beating is a rapid fluctuation of
amplitude, which is caused by two sounds that are very close in frequency. Grisey,
Murail, and other spectral composers such as Scelsi and Fineberg used this
phenomenon in their pieces. For instance, Fineberg uses these techniques in his piano
work Veils, of which he writes the following2:

“It is not the notes (or not only the notes) which draw me to the piano; rather,
for me, the real magic of the piano is its resonance. The shock that is delivered by the
hammers, when notes are struck, produces a continuous vibration. Small impacts can
color this vibration, pushing it in one direction or another. Large shocks, on the other
hand, are capable of completely eradicating the previous color, or leaving only the
faintest trace of what had been. Very delicate interventions can even shift the
evolution of the resonance without being truly perceptible as independent events. All
of this activity which is normally thought of as ‘the music’ can be seen as a sort of
veil, hiding the real music whose heart is in the underlying resonance (color). The
interaction between the punctuated surface and the continuous undercurrent, make up
the form and movement of the piece.”

Behind this shimmering veil, as he beholds it, Fineberg uses the middle pedal
of the piano to create overtone structures that decay slower than the surrounding
structures2. These resulting structures contain beating and work with other interesting
auditory phenomena such as difference tones.
In order to create one’s own approach to microtonality, it is important to
understand all of these approaches and what the strengths and weaknesses of each
method are in order to find one’s own way to deal with the set of issues that
subdividing the octave brings forth. Many people prefer to focus on a single set of
issues, or a small set of these issues, but I prefer to keep an open approach that utilizes
a broad range of techniques from many different schools of thought. Most of these

1
Mabury, p. 80-81
2
Fineberg: On Veils, p. 1
approaches end up focusing on either harmonic features or linear features, and
ultimately I feel that both are equally important and should influence each other.
As a result of this broad compositional approach, my microtonal approach is
also quite broad. I use technical elements from the spectral school of thought in my
work, especially ideas of orchestral synthesis, using spectrograms to better understand
dense sonic structures, and ideas of harmonicity and inharmonicity. I am also
influenced by Werntz-like thinking, as well as just-intonation derived ideas. This last
statement might seem paradoxical, but I think both of these ways of thinking have
merit, and both of them have clear flaws (mostly in that they discount ways of
thinking that do not align with their theories). I do also employ elaboration
techniques that originate in folk music.
Below, I have provided a possible way of elaborating a simple voice-leading
passage through spectral and quarter-tone techniques (both elaboration and voice-
leading):

This first figure provides a very simple voice-leading progression, with a

chromatically descending line in the upper voice, combined with a chromatically
moving lower voice that first rises in contrary motion and then falls in similar motion.
I have elaborated this in the next passage as follows:

Following the upper voice, I have first introduced a passing quarter-tone

between the B and B flat with a B half-flat. The B flat that follows then moves down
to a B sixth-tone flat, which approximates a natural seventh from a C an octave down
from the held pedal C. This sixth-tone then moves down to an A, and we wind up
with a second inversion F major triad. I then inflect the A natural down to an A half-
flat, altering the major triad into a neutral triad. While following the quarter tone
voice leading in the upper voice, I move the lower voice down chromatically from a C
to a B natural. In the span of this time, I have diatonically moved the middle voice up
from C to an F.
As I move the lower voice down to a B flat, I double it down the octave to
emphasize the resulting overtone structure, which has a B flat fundamental. The
upper voice is now inflected down by a sixth-tone to approximate the natural seventh
of B flat. However, this chord only lasts until I move the A flat back up and continue
to move up in the lower voice, first by semitone, and then by quarter tone. The voice
leading from this brings us to a C major chord, which I prolong with chromatic thirds
that move from E and G to C and E.
This example is meant to provide an idea of how one might use several of
these different ideas in a harmonic passage. In context, the usage of these strategies
can vary greatly. For this reason, I will now present a case study of a recent piece of
mine, titled Mirage, for flute, clarinet, and alto saxophone.
This piece was written for Jonathan Radford, Jaymee Coonjobeeharry, and
Eleanor Kornas, who are all Fellows at the Royal College. Knowing that Jonathan
was particularly adept at difficult extended saxophone techniques, I asked him to play
through a long list of multiphonics from the Giorgio Netti/Marcus Weiss book The
Techniques of Saxophone Playing. He obliged and we recorded these multiphonics.
While writing Mirage, I listened to and analyzed a number of these multiphonics, and
relied both on my own auditory perception and sonogram analysis from Audiosculpt
to generate harmony that would interact with these multiphonics, alternatively
creating effects of harmonicity and inharmonicity through sonic fusion and beating.
While I used a number of spectral techniques in Mirage, I also used a myriad
of other microtonal techniques, such as quarter-tone voice leading, creating quarter-
tone harmonies that are unrelated to the spectral harmonies which are derived from
multiphonics, and expressive microtonal elaboration. I will now analyze a couple of
passages to demonstrate these interactions of different techniques. Note that the
saxophone part is in E flat.
 In this passage, the flute line rises up through quarter-tone voice leading, up to
a B natural, and is then inflected in an expressive way. At the same time, the
saxophone emphasizes a quarter tone interval in a harmonic way, and then is inflected
up, before moving to a multiphonic. Within these first two bars, the piano holds the
pedal, adding resonance. The G sharp is inharmonic with the saxophone, creating
beating, and the C sharp creates a fundamental over which the saxophone and flute
move in varying degrees of harmonicity. In the third bar of this passage, the
saxophone multiphonic and flute blend to create a high level of sonic fusion, and the
piano adds a fundamental and additional notes that fuse with the flute saxophone
texture. Slightly further on in the piece, we have this passage:

This passage behaves in a more directly harmonic voice-led way than the first
passage. After the initial melodic flute bar, the flute and saxophone move together in
a quarter-tone voice-led passage (and in this rare instance, the written saxophone
multiphonics actually give a fairly accurate idea of the sounding pitch content of said
multiphonics). However, the piano gives this whole passage a more spectral tilt, as
the low B flat behaves as a fundamental over which the rest of the passage is heard.
In addition, the pedaling creates additional resonance, and the effect is similar to the
previous passage.
 Continuing the theme of piano resonance:

Both the piano and flute move in and out of the partials of the alto saxophone
multiphonic, which in this case is a loud and resonant chord. Once more, this creates
varying degrees of sonic fusion. The nail effect on the piano creates additional
inharmonic partials that become apparent after the multiphonic stops, and the pedal
captures the resonance of the multiphonic and combines this resonance with the
resonance from the nails.
The following texture is perhaps one of the more purely textural and purely
spectral moments in the piece:

This passage contains a high degree of sonic fusion between the piano and alto
saxophone, and the low G in the piano acts as a fundamental. The whistle tones in the
flute blend into the texture as well, and add irregular, sometimes inharmonic high
partials to the texture.
 Another passage that contains a high degree of sonic fusion occurs one of the
loudest moments in the piece. Here, Jonathan Radford and I discovered that if he
continues to crescendo through one of the louder multiphonics, it explodes into an
extremely resonant chord that has a sounding G/G# (written E) as its fundamental.
I’ve written this multiphonic into the score as a written E with a box around it, and an
M on top indicating it is a multiphonic as follows:

Since the notation does not capture the complexity of this multiphonic, I have
provided a sonogram analysis of this multiphonic below (rendered in Audiosculpt):
 In seconds 8-15 (the last sonic event in this sonogram display), one can
visually see an increase in beating, which is followed sudden and dramatic increase in
resonance. This is what I have written into the score, with the box notation indicating
the increased resonance. The piano and flute live within the partials and undertones
of this sound, creating a high degree of sonic fusion. At the same time, I incorporate
quarter-tone voice leading and embellishment in the flute part for a melodic effect.
This type of tension and cohesiveness created by juxtaposition of different
techniques continues through the piece, right until the very last note. The piece ends
with a saxophone multiphonic for which the piano provides a fundamental and a
chord that fuses with the overtones of the multiphonic.

Within this final analysis, I have laid out some possibilities on how one might
combine different types of microtonal techniques in a personal and open way. As can
be seen, I am given to simultaneously using several different techniques at once, and
try my best to weave them together in order to create a sense of cohesiveness.
However, this is only one of many possible approaches to this extremely broad field,
and I have merely scraped the surface on the possibilities provided by looking at
smaller divisions of the octave and of the semitone. It will be exciting to see how
other composers treat this material in the future, and to see how others combine
different strategies in their own ways.
Appendix:

Biehl, Claes J. Microtonality in the Post-Spectral Era: Developing New Pitch

Hierarchies. , 2011. Print.

Fineberg, Joshua. “Spectral Music.” Contemporary Music Review, vol. 19, no. 2,
2000, pp. 1–5., doi:10.1080/07494460000640221.

Fineberg, Joshua. “Notes on Veils.” 2001.

Gilmore, Bob. “Changing the Metaphor: Ratio Models of Musical Pitch in the Work
of Harry Partch, Ben Johnston, and James Tenney.” Perspectives of New Music, vol.
33, no. 1/2, 1995, pp. 458–503. JSTOR, JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/833715.

Horatio Radulescu.
http://www.paristransatlantic.com/magazine/interviews/radulescu.html

Ives, Charles, and Howard Boatwright. Essays before a Sonata ; The Majority: and
Other Writings. W.W. Norton, 1970.

Johnston, Ben. “Scalar Order as a Compositional Resource.” Perspectives of New

Music, vol. 2, no. 2, 1964, pp. 56–76. JSTOR, JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/832482.

Mac Erlaine, Seán. “Microtonality as an Expressive Device: an Approach for the

Contemporary Saxophonist.” Dublin Institute of Technology, 2009.

Machin-Autenrieth, Matthew. “Andalucía Flamenca: Music, Regionalism and Identity

in Southern Spain.” Cardiff University, 2013.

Neeman, Edward: Ivan Wyschnegradsky and Diatonic Chromaticism.

http://cincinnatinote.blogspot.co.uk/2017/01/ivan-wyschnegradsky-and-diatonic.html

Skinner, Myles Lee. “Myles Leigh Skinner (2007). Toward a Quarter-Tone Syntax:
Analyses of Selected Works by Blackwood, Haba, Ives, and Wyschnegradsky.”
University at Buffalo Institutional Repository, 2007.

Werntz, Julia. “Adding Pitches: Some New Thoughts, Ten Years after Perspectives of
New Music's ‘Forum: Microtonality Today.’” Perspectives of New Music, vol. 39, no.
2, 2001, pp. 159–210. JSTOR, JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/833567.