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(Photos
and Pictures see German version)
Conlon
Nancarrow - Composer for Player Piano
Precursor
of Computer Music
Jürgen Hocker©
Introduction
Ever
since musical instruments have existed, people have tried to construct
instruments which play by themselves. Thus descriptions of self-playing
instruments are to be found in Ancient Greece (Heron’s self-playing
organ pipes in Alexandria) and in Araby (the Musa brothers’ automatic
flute-player from Bagdad). The oldest surviving mechanical musical
instruments are glockenspiels (carillons) of the late Middle Ages. Many
composers also discovered the charm of these instruments very early and
composed pieces for them; for example, there are works by Händel, C.P.E.
Bach, Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven for small self-playing organs which were
usually built into the cases of grandfather clocks (so called „flute
clocks“). The „music machinist“ Johann Nepomuk Mälzel (today famous
for but falsely credited with the invention of the metronome) even created
at the beginning of the 19th century a whole self-playing
orchestra, the „Panharmonikon“ and Ludwig van Beethoven composed his
„Wellingtons Sieg oder die Schlacht bei Vittoria“ op. 91 for this
instrument.
In
the following 100 years self-playing instruments were largely ignored by
composers. It was not until the beginning of the 20th century
that self-playing instruments began to reawake interest again as a result
of a pioneering invention: in 1904 the firm of Welte in Freiburg succeeded
in recording the original performance of a pianist on perforated paper and
reproducing it by means of corresponding instruments with all dynamic and
agogic details. Many pianists - including many pupils of Liszt - and also
several composers used this procedure in order to make their piano-playing
accessible to a wide spectrum of the population; and this at a time when
it was not yet possible to record the sound of a piano satisfactorily on
disc. Thus we posses today perforated music rolls with interpretations by
d’Albert, Busoni, Paderewski, Godowsky, Grieg, Reger, Debussy, Ravel and
others. Even the brilliant technique of the young Horowitz can again be
brought to life in sound by means of perforated rolls.
The
firm of Welte in Freiburg, inventor of the reproducing piano and
manufacturer of self-playing organs and orchestrions, gave several
composers in the 1920s in their „music rooms“ the opportunity to
become acquainted with self-playing instruments and „draw“ original compositions on paper rolls. The punching-out of the rolls
was then done by experienced members of the firm. In close co-operation
with Welte the music committee of the „Kammermusik-Aufführungen zur Förderung
zeitgenössischer Tonkunst“ in Donaueschingen decided to dedicate a
major part of its events of the years 1926 and 1927 (at the time the venue
was temporarily Baden-Baden) to mechanical music. On 16 July 1927 one of
the concerts of this chamber-music festival was even dedicated exclusively
to „original compositions for mechanical instruments“ (here mechanical
piano and mechanical organ). In addition to the Fantasia in F minor for
mechanical organ by W.A. Mozart, a Suite for Mechanical Organ by Paul
Hindemith, which has since disappeared, and a Study for Mechanical Organ
by Ernst Toch were performed. Also represented were Nicolai Lopatnikoff
with a Toccata and a Scherzo for mechanical piano and Hans Haass with a
6-voice Fugue, played at breakneck speed, and an Intermezzo. The first
part of the Ballet mécanique by George Antheil, which had originally been
conceived for 16 (!) self-playing pianos, was performed by one
self-playing piano, since the performance of the original version for 16
self-playing pianos raised insuperable synchronisation problems. The same
evening Hindemith’s Incidental Music to the Film „Sullivan, Felix, the
Circus Cat“ (for mechanical organ) was heard. Before the introduction of
sound films mechanical instruments had been of decisive importance for the
musical illustration of films. Not only the mechanical organ used at the
time, but also several of the original compositions for mechanical
instruments have since disappeared.
With
the spreading of more efficient and cheaper forms of musical reproduction
around 1930 (records, radio, sound films), self-playing musical
instruments sank into oblivion more and more, and they would certainly
have stayed there if it had not been for that extraordinary but genial
musical hermit in Mexico who has dedicated his life’s work to the Player
Piano: Conlon Nancarrow. Only a
few years ago admired only by some insiders, Nancarrow is today regarded
as one of the most significant composers of the twentieth century. In
self-chosen musical isolation he created a magnificent oeuvre for this
instrument, which really not exists outside of museums.
Nancarrows
Way to the Player Piano
Conlon
Nancarrow was born the 27th of October 1912 in Texarkana, USA.
As a child he took his first, however unsuccessful, piano lessons. He said
once: This horrible piano teacher I
had at the age of four ‘... Naturally I never learned to play anything.’
Nancarrow, who would later devote his life to the piano, had himself never
learnt to play this instrument. He had already discovered in his youth a
love for jazz, and learnt to play the trumpet. After finishing the High
School in Texarkana he went to the Vanderbuilt-University in Nashville to
study engineerings, but he cancelled it after a few weeks. At 17 he
visited the Conservatorium in Cincinnati, and there studied theory,
composition and trumpet. But this study didn't satisfy him either: ‘...it wasn't what I wanted, so I dropped it. I was looking for
something a little less academic.’
At
the age of 19 he married the music student Helen Rigby, but the two young
people divorced a few years later. At 21 he moved to Boston, where he took
private lessons with Nicholas Slonimsky, Walter Piston and Roger Sessions.
He actually only carried out serious study with Sessions, who taught him
counterpoint. And that was the completion of his short musical training.
Nancarrow calls himself an autodidactic, acquiring his musical skills
through his own efforts, with the help of books and through hearing music.
A deciding influence on his musical development was a performance of
Stravinsky's 'Rite of Spring' that he witnessed at the age of 17 in 1929:
...well, it was a total revelation. At that time I'd heard practically no
contemporary music, and suddenly The Rite of Spring was thrown at me, and
it just bowled me over. This was when I was in Cincinnati. I heard it at a
concert there, and it just opened up a new world to me.
Stravinsky,
Bartók and Johann Sebastian Bach were his favorite composers.
Illuminating is Nancarrows record collection, which gives deep information
about his musical sources: A huge amount of ethnic music, from Africa,
India, Bali, Sumatra, China, Java, Haiti, Brasilia, Cuba and so on. Than
an impressive collection of Jazz with Louis Armstrong, Bessie Smith and
Jelly Roll Morton. And nearly no recordings from the 19th
century music - but music from the 17th, 18th and 20th
century.
Nancarrow's
first surviving compositions were written in Boston: Prelude and Blues for
piano. Although these pieces make high demands on the performer, they can
nevertheless be performed by a good pianist.
At
25 Nancarrow decided to join the Abraham Lincoln Brigade in Spain and he
fighted against the faschist Franco government. During his two years
absence the two compositions Prelude and Blues were published in
New Music Edition. The well known composer Aaron Copland wrote about
the works in 1938 in Modern Music:
Conlon Nancarrow is a
brand new name to me. I first saw it on the January 1938 cover of
"New Music", containing a "Toccata" for violin and
piano, a "Prelude" and "Blues" for piano alone, all by
Mr. Nancarrow. His biography is brief: "Born 1912, Texarkana,
Arkansas. Studied at Cincinnati Conservatory for two years. Worked way to
Europe in 1936. No job since return. Went to Spain to help fight Fascism.
There is nothing to do but hope for his safe return. Otherwise America
will have lost a talented composer. In fact, these short works show a
remarkable surety in an unknown composer, plus a degree of invention and
imagination that immediately gives him a place among our talented younger
men.
After
Nancarrow's return to the US he went to New York. There he had an
experience that convinced him to get rid of the human performers. He had
written a Septett which should be performed in New York:
In fact, the septet was
played once in New York after I came back from Spain - I think in 1941. In
any case, that was one that was played! Actually it wasn't very
complicated. It had a conductor. The League of Composers had very good
musicians. They got them from studios there, from the radio. There were
two rehearsals. For one rehearsal, four came. The second rehearsal, three,
and one of the original four. So there wasn't one session with the whole
group. And when they played it, a couple of instruments lost their place
right at the beginning. All through the piece, they were playing in some
other place. Everything was lost, it was a real desaster.
From
that time on Nancarrow decided to compose for player piano - a decision
reinforced by Henry Cowell's book New
Musical Resources - in order not to be hindered by the limitations of
a performer in the future.
Nancarrow,
who lost his passport in Spain applied for a new one, but he didn’t get
a new passport because of his - according to the government of the time -
'undesirable' activities in Spain. That’s why Nancarrow decided to
emigrate to Mexico. There he lived for fourty years in musical isolation,
without contact to the established music scene in the States or in Europe.
In
1941 he wrote a three movement Sonatina for piano, which was however, at
that time, unplayable for a pianist because of its immense speed. Because
he wanted to hear it, he arranged it for player piano. It was the first
composition he ever punched in a paper roll.
Only
once, in 1947 he leaved Mexico for a few months and he travelled to New
York, in order to acquire a punching machine. He had been looking for it
several weeks and finally he became acquainted with Lawrence Cook, who
arranged piano rolls for QRS. Cook borrowed him his hand punching machine
so that Nancarrow could have copied this mecanism for punching music rolls.
In New York he married his second wife Annette.
In
his first years in Mexico Nancarrow was also busy for some time with the
idea of operating a percussion orchestra of 88 instruments with a music
roll - an idea that couldn't be realised however, because of the enormous
technical difficulties.
In
1949 Nancarrow created his first original composition for player piano,
which was published in 1951 in New
Music Editions. This should be the olny publishing of his player piano
compositions for 25 years. Nancarrow still describes his first player
piano compositions as rhythmic studies, a title that he later changed to studies.
Up to 49 Studies for Player Piano have been composed, some of which are in
several movements. Only once Nancarrow tried to organize a concert with
his player pianos in Mexico: this was on 30th of July 1962, in
Sala Ponce in the Palacio de Belas Artes in Mexico City. After he had gone
to the enormous trouble of moving his two pianos to the concert hall only
a few audience members turned up, and these were his friends, who more or
less already knew his music. Since then, Nancarrow has never been willing
to bring his pianos out of his studio again until October 1990, when the
author and the composer Julio Estrada convinced him to agree for two
player piano concerts at the University of Mexico City.
Possibilities
and Limitations of the Player Piano
These
instruments were brought on to the market by a number of firms - all
instruments functioning, however, on the same principle: a vacuum bellow
being powered by a motor, sometimes also by footpedals. All other
functions are pneumatically operated by means of vacuum. The piano keys
are played with the help of small bellows, which are emptied of air and
shut accordingly, in response to a corresponding command on the note roll.
If the note is to sound louder, then the bellows are quickly emptied of
air. If the note is soft, the air escapes slowly.
The
Ampico system, produced by the American Piano Company was the system used
by Nancarrow. The note roll is 28.5 cms wide and divided into 98 tracks.
These tracks are 'read off' by a tracker bar which also possesses 98 holes,
by means of suction. 83 of these tracks control 83 piano notes, from the
lowest 'b' to the 4th 'a' above middle 'c'. Just one track
controls the left, and one the right pedal. The keyboard is divided into
two halves, which can be dynamically controlled, independently of each
other. On the one side of the note roll are 6 tracks for controlling the
dynamics of the bass half, on the other side the dynamics of the treble
half are also controlled by 6 tracks. One track controls the rewinding
action of the roll. If a perforation or a string of perforations on the
note roll runs across the tracker bar, a key on the piano is struck. When
the perforation is closed again the action is ended. A single perforation
means a staccato touch, and a row of perforations a long sustained sound.
The note roll can only give yes/no instructions, and in this way is an
actual digital information-carrier - a predecessor to the computer.
A
player piano has much more possibilities than a pianist:
·
Use of the
keyboard
A
pianist can play at once up to 12 or 15 notes, which must be situated in
particular parts of the keyboard. To play the bass, treble and middle of
the keyboard at the same time isn't possible without assistance. The
player piano can play up to 40 notes at once without the limitations of
human fingers.
·
Speed
A
practised pianist can play up to 15 notes in succession per second. A
player piano offers the possibility of executing up to 200 notes per
second. That means we don’t hear single notes but new musical structures
as sound aggregates, sound clouds. Furthermore, continual speed changes or
different speeds in various lines can be reproduced.
·
Metres and
rhythms
A
pianist can play 2 different metres at the same time if they are in simple
time relationship to each other, such as 2 to 3 or 3 to 5. With more
complicated time-relationships he has reached his limitations, as with the
reproducing of 3 or more different metres at a time. The same is also
valid for extremely complex rhythms. The player piano executes all
complicated metres and rhythms with absolute precision. It is to his merit
that Nancarrow recognised all these resources and new possibilities, and
used them in his compositions. This led to the discovery of totally new
sound structures, to the dissolution of single notes and the emergence of
sound 'layers'. The greatest significance in Nancarrow's compositions,
however, has to do with exact time durations: the temporal relationships
like metre, rhythm and speed have absolute priority over melody and
harmony.
From the time I started
composing, I'd always had this thing of working with temporal matters,
rhythm and so forth, and this thing sort of grew. By the time I saw
Cowell's book, it was just a big push ahead... I met him once. He asked me
for those tapes and I sent them, and I never heard a word from him again.
In fact, someone - I forgot who - pointed out that Cowell always talked
about these things, polyrhythms and so forth, but neither he nor Ives ever
dabbled in player pianos, which would have been the ideal way of doing
that. It surprises me that he never did.
In
this way, Nancarrow was already using the possibilities of computer music
long before there even was a music computer. But the price he had to pay
for this was high: for five minutes of music he needed nearly one years
work.
Nancarrow's
Compositions for Player Piano
The
Sonatina, written in 1941 for human player, already shows in the first
movement frequent changes of bar and can hardly be played by a pianist. A
further example of the high demands made on the performer is an early work
written in 1935: the Toccata for violin and piano. The piano accompaniment
demands very fast note and chord repetitions. No pianist can perform these
repetitions at the prescribed speed without suffering from muscle-cramp.
Nancarrow therefore punched the piano accompaniment on to a note roll, and
the player piano performs all these difficulties with the greatest of ease.
The violin voice is too extremly difficult but can be played by a good
violiniste.
Nancarrow
explained his composing process once in an interview:
Generally, I plan ahead
and write all of the Study out first, before beginning the punching. I
write it down in such a way, now, that no one could really figure it out,
but the first twenty Studies I wrote out in standard notation. There were
rhythmic juxtapositions where measures came, but they were standard
because of the fixed ratchet principle of the punching machine. Everything
was additively related to a small unit. Now, almost all of the Studies I
do are in irrational relationships. Of course, I have more or less an idea
of what I am going to do and of the whole piece before I do anything: the
general plan. I mark out on a blank roll of paper all of the proportional
relationships of tempo, using what I think is going to be the smallest
(fastest) note value as the unit of measure. Of course, occasionally, if I
have to use something even faster, I just go over the roll and put in the
smaller values, showing the relations to the basic scale in the score. I
mark the whole thing out from the beginning to end on the blank player
piano roll. It's quite accurate, I mean, as exact as I can make it. Then I
take music paper and I block off the roll according to a basic size (the
width of the music paper); next I take the marked proportions from the
roll onto the music paper. It is not as exact as the roll, but fairly
accurate so that the vertical relationship of tempo units will be more or
less what I see graphically on the marked paper. I establish the pattern
of temporal relationships before the pitches. The marked out roll has no
rhythms, only a series of sixteen notes, or whatever. When I start to
write the piece, the melody and rhythm - the harmonic connotation - are
all done together. I use melody also in a rhythmic sense, in the sense of
accentuating a certain rhythm by contour. But I don't sketch the melodic
contours before beginning. I do the melodies and the harmonic relationship
all at the same time, on the music paper that is marked out.
Nancarrows
best known player piano composition is his Study No. 21, called Canon X.
It’s an example of a continually changing speed in different voices.
This composition is strictly two-voiced. The bass voice begins slowly with
4 notes per second. Shortly after, the treble voice enters at the
breakneck speed of 39 notes per second. The bass voice accelerates
continually, while the treble voice becomes slower. At about the middle of
the piece the speeds meet. The bass voice then becomes faster than the
treble, and ends in a sound hurricane of 118 notes per second. The volume
increases gradually during the piece in the degrees of p through to fff.
Only
a few of his player piano compositions can be played by hand:
I just write a piece of
music. It just happens that a lot of them are unplayable. I don't have any
obsession of making things unplayable. A few of my pieces could be played
quite easily -- a few! In fact, Study No. 26, "Canon- 1/1", you
could play that with organ, orchestra, or any way.
One
of his most impressive compositions is his Study for Player Piano No. 27.
Nancarrow mentioned about this Study:
With No. 27 I thought of
the whole piece as an ostinato, that I was going to have the exact
proportions of sections worked out, before composing it. There would be a
certain amount of this and a certain amount of that, but through the whole
was going to be an ostinato - that against a constantly shifting
acceleration and retarding. In fact, I like to think of the ostinato in
that piece as the ticking of an ontological clock. The rest of it - the
other lines - wandering around... There are four different percentages of
acceleration and ritard that react against the ostinato: 5%, 6%, 8% and
11% ritards and accelerations. Incidentically, that’s the only piece I
ever did over again...
An
example of different fixed speeds in various voices is Study No. 36. In
this 4-voiced canon all 4 voices are absolutely identical - with the
exception of the speed. The first voice begins in the bass with the tempo
mark 85, followed by the second with tempo 90. The third voice begins with
tempo 95 and the last voice, the treble, has tempo 100. The faster voices
now follow the slowest voice, and in the middle all 4 voices meet together.
Nancarrow's genius is evident in the way that he succeeded in combining
these 4 voices into a great compositional unity.
One reason for working
with the player piano was my interest in temporally dissonant
relationships. Temporal dissonance is as hard to define as tonal
dissonance. I certainly would
not define a temporal relation of 1 to 2 as dissonant, but I would call a
2 to 3 relation mildly dissonant, and more and more so up to the extreme
of the irrational ones. When you use a canon, you are repeating the same
thing melodically, so you don't have to think about it, and you can
concern yourself more with temporal aspects. You simplify the melodic
elements, and you can follow more the temporal material.
For
the reproduction of this highly complex compositions Nancarrow prepared
the hammers of his player pianos:
In the beginning, I tried
various things. The first was called a mandolin attachment. It is a wooden
strip with a lot of little leather straps fixed with metallic things that
dangle in front of the strings. You can lower or raise the wooden
strip, and I liked the idea that you could have a normal piano or
altered sound. Unfortunately, it was a mess, the leather straps were
always getting tangled in the strings, especially with loud playing. Then
I tried soaking the hammers in lacquer, hardening the felt. That wasn't
too bad, but it wasn't what I wanted. I tried various other things; then
finally settled on these: one of them has hard-wood hammers with steel
straps over them and the other, felt hammers covered with leather in which
are embedded the little snaps that are used in clothing. The felt cushions
a little, then the leather, and then, that metallic snap.
Against
the end of the seventieth Nancarrow became more and more known in Europe
and the States. In 1981 he travelled for the first time since more than
thirty years for concerts to the States. In 1982 he was invited for
concerts in several places in Europe. In this time Nancarrows Studies for
Player Piano were performed by a tape, because there was no suitable
player piano for these complex compositions all over the world. Since 1987
Nancarrows player piano music was performed with the authors original
Ampico Bösendorfer Grand from 1927 in all important music centers of
Europe. The author had the privilege to realise several concerts together
with Nancarrow in Europe and Mexico.
One
of the most enthusiastic admirer and promoter of Nancarrows music is the
composer György Ligeti. When he first heard Nancarrows player piano music
he wrote to a friend:
After the few player
piano studies of Nancarrow I listened to, I affirm with all my serious
judgement that Conlon Nancarrow is the absolutely greatest living composer.
If J.S. Bach had grown up with blues, boogie-woogie and latin-american
music instead of the protestant choral, he would have composed like
Nancarrow, ie. Nancarow is the synthesis of American tradition, polyphony
of Bach and elegance of Stravinsky, but even much more: he is the best
composer of the second half of this century.
Nancarrows
Studies for Player Piano are
valued meanwhile as the "Well-tempered Piano of the Twentieth Century".
Nancarrow died 10 August 1997 at the age of 84 in his home in Mexico City.
Gagne, Cole, and Tracy Caras: ‘Conlon Nancarrow’
in Soundpieces: Interviews with American Composers. Metuchen, NJ:
Scarecrow Press 1982.
Copland,
Aaron: Scores and Records, in: Modern Music, Vol. 15, Nov. 1937 - June
1938.
Reynolds,
Roger: ‘Conlon Nancarrow: Interviews in Mexico City and San
Francisco’, American Music 2/2 (Summer 1984).
Gagne,
Cole, and Tracy Caras: ‘Conlon Nancarrow’ in Soundpieces:
Interviews with American Composers. Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press
1982.
Reynolds,
Roger: ‘Conlon Nancarrow: Interviews in Mexico City and San
Francisco’, American Music 2/2 (Summer 1984).
Gagne,
Cole, and Tracy Caras: ‘Conlon Nancarrow’ in Soundpieces:
Interviews with American Composers. Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press
1982.
Reynolds,
Roger: ‘Conlon Nancarrow: Interviews in Mexico City and San
Francisco’, American Music 2/2 (Summer 1984).
Reynolds,
Roger: ‘Conlon Nancarrow: Interviews in Mexico City and San
Francisco’, American Music 2/2 (Summer 1984).
Reynolds,
Roger: ‘Conlon Nancarrow: Interviews in Mexico City and San
Francisco’, American Music 2/2 (Summer 1984).
György
Ligeti to Mario Bonaventura, Letter from 28 june 1980.
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