Guiding the Listener’s Ear
One of the most common instincts composers can have is to add more. More melodic interplay. More rhythmic density. More instruments at a time.
We get bogged down by insecurities about boring the performers or listeners with simple parts that we think might not be engaging (a source of creative blocks a lot of the time). But the reality is that there’s a limit to how much our listeners can process at a time, especially in music they’ve never heard before. They can hear two, three, maybe four layers, and if you let them hear those layers independently, you’re certainly playing the cards in your favor, but at a certain point it can become a chaotic sound mass that the listener can easily lose track of what to focus on.
So how can we solve this problem that might come up in a string quartet, an 8-member chamber ensemble, a choir, multichannel electronics, or an orchestral work?
I would recommend that you identify the materials you want to be the most salient for both an experienced and a casual listener. In other words, what you want to emerge most to the surface of the music at any given time. This could be anything, really: a melodic line, a timbre, a rhythmic idea, a repeated gesture—it depends on the piece!
I’m old school so when I’m looking for these moments, I will print out a physical copy of the score and highlight in a bright color the moments that I want to be heard most. There should only be one thing highlighted at any given time, but the kind of thing can change (I.e. pitches, rhythms, timbres, etc.). Then, I will search for opportunities to reinforce those moments in the ensemble, by doubling notes, parallel harmonies, rhythmic unisons, dynamics, timbral haloes around the core sound or textural reinforcements—again, the list is endless, and will vary depending on the nature of the materials. The goal is to make sure that what you feel is of the utmost importance for musical/philosophical/social/comedic/satirical/political/metaphysical/paranormal reasons is actually heard and not buried in a messy soup of literally convoluted ideas.
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In my piece Overpainted Photographs for flute and orchestra, there’s a moment around the 3-minute mark where the soloist starts playing a repeated melodic line that I wanted to highlight and support in the orchestra. Even when the flutist starts playing faster septuplet cascades, you can hear the vibraphone and woodwinds reinforcing the idea. You can hear those passages here:
So it doesn’t necessarily mean stripping the piece down to a single layer—although that might be compelling to do as a formal destination to create contrast and one I explore towards the end of the piece—you can still have 3 or more layers.
You’re just giving priority to some layers more than others so they emerge in relief in strategic and meaningful ways. This approach adopts realistic expectations of our listeners perceptual thresholds and puts their experience at the center of how we shape and communicate our ideas, because after all, without listeners, what would our music even be?
That’s a question for a future blog.
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👉 mathew-arrellin.com/lessons
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