Itzel Garcia-Mejia

The piece Zaspala e moma sounds very eerie. There is a slight echo, most likely a result of where it was recorded. Reminds me of a hymn or other religious piece. There is a steady rhythm and pitch throughout. The piece, sung by a women’s ensemble, starts out with two vocal parts.  They each sing separate melodic lines that build of each other. Near the end, the two part ensemble splits into three parts (we briefly hear this three part divide early on in the piece). There is one group that stays in the slower registers providing a base. The two groups that are in the upper registers have a kind of call and response section where they build of each other. The melodic lines get progressively get higher in register.  I like that it sounds a little like a vocal battle. The lowest registered group continues a repeating melody at the base throughout. The piece ends on a very pleasing dissonant chord. It beautifully brings together the warring vocal groups that had been building off each other throughout.

In Trite Puti, my first impression is that the tonal quality of the flute is a lot less breathy than the Andean flute. It sounds like the flute is made out of wood. There is an emphasis on clarity of tone. The fast moving tempo accentuates the virtuosity of the flautist. The song makes me feel upbeat since the rhythm is so fast. It sounds like the tempo is getting progressively getting faster. However, the tempo might be constant throughout and it might just be that the melodic patterns in the upper registers just sound faster because they’re so high up. I like that it’s a fast moving tempo, but it makes me a little tense. The increasing tempo and register make my head spin. The structure is very formulaic. The melodic line is played four times, and then the flautist takes up a new pattern. During most of the piece, the melody is increasing in register. Near the end it begins to transpose earlier patterns and make its way back down the first melodic pattern at the end.

At the beginning of Tarkiada Carnival Music by Tarkas de Putina, it sounds as if the recording has started at the end of the groups’ tuning session. After a few seconds of random notes, the piece begins with the introduction of the main melodic line. What first caught my attention was how the flutes play this melody at the same time. It sounds almost like a chorus of flutes. What’s interesting is that although the flutes are playing the same melodic line, their doing it at different octaves. This provides a fuller sound (and is also easier than having several flutes play identically). Their tone is very airy/breathy. This leads me to believe that they are made out of wood or reed. The flutes’ melody is accompanied by drumming that keeps the melodic line repeating and in the same tempo. It sounds like there are several people playing the drums. In terms of structure, there are distinct dynamics. The flautists are particularly good at emphasizing these dynamic changes. In the second half of the piece, there is a slight change in tempo (it gets a little slower), but it quickly returns to the original tempo. I am unsure whether this change is tempo was deliberate or not. I only noted two instances when the flutes hit discordant notes.

My first impression of Nyarai is that this song has a very up beat tempo. As a result, it makes me feel upbeat as well. I didn’t really like the fading in of the music at the beginning and the fading out at the end. Clear example of high fidelity. The rhythm is kept by the snare drum keeping snazzy beat in background. The main melody lines are interpreted by the guitar and the vocalist. What is interesting is that, whether because of how it was recorded or how the musical practice actually is, the voice doesn’t take the lead in song. Rather, he seems to share center stage with the guitar. The overall structure has a repeating, almost cyclical melody with slight variations introduced by the drums in the background. These changes include drum rolls and changes in tempo. The vocalist also changes to English half way. The changes draws my attention to the vocalist; I am not sure whether I like this or not. The most aesthetically pleasing part for me is the section near the end of the song that features the guitar. The introduction of the trumpet is a little jarring, but the section is short and fades out.

In Nhemamusasa (at bira), the music fades in. What is striking is the loudness of the shaker. I am used to hearing vocal parts and variating insturments as more prominent in pieces. I can also hear people in the background. But there is a focus on shaker because it sounds like it’s closer to the recording device. It is particularly difficult to hear anything other than the shaker. Bits and pieces from others vocalizers can be heard. Repetition of the shaker kind of numbs my hearing, making a great contrast between the shaker and the improvised vocalizing call and response in the background. I can also hear a marimba-like instrument in the background. Then the shaker changes the beat a bit. And the focus changes to the call and response of the vocalizing where one person acts as main vocalizer, initiating trill-like calls. The vocal trilling is repeated by others in the group, mostly in the same intonation. A new rhythm is introduced through tapping in a cyclical pattern.  It’s difficult to not let my attention drift because of the lack of variation. The structure of the pieces is very repetitive and cyclical. There is a consistent emphasis on the shaker

In listening to Makala from the BaAka, the soundscape that opens the pieces is striking. I can hear different people singing while passing in front/around of the recording device. Then, voices begin to vocalize. The start of the vocalization is very organic. I can’t detect the structured moment where it sounds like they have agreed to beginning singing. The vocalizers stagger their entrances. They take turns vocalizing in the high registers, varying their rhythms, while a larger group keeps a baseline of sound in the background. About halfway through the piece, someone begins to vocalize in a very distinct manner—it sounds like a sudden eruption of sound from the back of the throat. This is followed by a short call and response section where several vocalizers are repeating the same phrase. The varying rhythms continues throughout. Someone begins to clap. At first I didn’t like the inclusion of the clapping because of its sudden appearance and marking of a rhythm. The crisp sound of the clap is jarring. But then the clapping begins to vary rhythms as well and it blends into the vocalizing. Consistency of pitch does not sound like it plays a prominent role (at least intonation as its thought of in Western music practices). However, the overall pitch of the main vocalizers never drops, which leads me to believe that intonation is a factor, but maybe it is monitored individually rather than as a group.

In Wednesdays Gamelan A class, we learned two melodic lines: 6532, 6532, 3323, 6532 and 7567 567 22 7567 657 (at least, I think that’s how they went). Upon entering the room we chose what instrument we wanted to begin with. I didn’t realize how influential this choice was until we began playing. I began by playing the wooden-keyed xylophone, the gambang, that was tuned to the seven note scale, pelong. After practicing the first melodic line as an elaborating instrument, all the instruments came together. Because of my choice of instrument, I was not required to dampen the sound so I was able to devote more time to listening to how the pieces fit together. I was drawn to the kempul and its notes on the 6, 10, and 14 beats of the 16 beat cycle. However, because of I was at the opposite end of the room, I ended up listening to the saron, another elaborating instrument, since it was situated next to me.
When I switched instruments and began playing the slenthem, I realized that it required more hand coordination because of the dampening. This in turn made it more difficult to listen to my own part and to its relationship to the group. As a result, even though I had at that point practiced the melodic lines numerous times, I found it more difficult to keep track of where I was.
In reflecting on my experience listening to the media clips, I realize that the parts are much more difficult to execute than I expected. The seamless playing on the media clips contrasted with the less than perfect rhythmic and notational presentation from class.

“Lubuk Sao” performed by the talempong ensemble starts with a whistle or flute sustaining a note following by a musician counting into the beat with six taps on, what sounds like, a wooden block or instrument. The counting in reminds me of drummers who mark the beat before a song is performed, accompanied with “a one, a two, a one two three.” It indicates, if it is indeed marking the rhythm for the other musicians, an agreed upon structure. This is reinforced by the measured time kept by the drums. Next, the talempong repeat the same phrase 6 times. Then a counter rhythm is introduced by a higher pitched tamlempong. This is faintly heard in the background. It’s volume maybe has something to do with how the piece was recorded and is not intended to sound that faint. The rhythm under the higher pitched talemong remains structured and steady. Half way through the piece a new cycle of melody is introduced by the wind instrument from the beginning. The drums and talempong take up this new cyclical pattern. There is a slight slowing down of the rhythm, but it is resolved and brought back to the beginning rhythm by the drums. Then the rhythm from the first section is reintroduced. The piece ends with two repetitions of a five sustained notes. The piece was easy to follow, but I would’ve liked more variety in the rhythms.

In listening to Talempong pacik “Sidi” I first noticed the prominence of one of the musicians in the piece, which sounds like it starts out with three (?) musicians. I imagine that each is playing an instrument resembling a bottle that produces a hollow, echoing, and almost marimba like sounds. Each of these musicians repeat their own variation on an agreed upon melodic line. It is startling when the musicians that plays, what I imagine is a kazoo like instrument. I don’t particularly like the low, flat pitched (according to western idea of tonality) sound, which sounds like it is capable of creating half tones and bends pitch. The sound resembles a cross between a kazoo and maybe a bamboo instrument with a double reed? Overall, the structure seems to be: introduction of a structured base with a few “bottle-sounding” instruments, followed by the kazoo like instrument that abruptly adds itself to the cyclical melodic line, adding a seemingly more improvised melodic line, then this “kazoo-like” instrument drops out, and the piece ends with a repetition of the three (?) variations of the base melodic line. There is some form of structure in terms of a consensus when the kazoo instrument should enter and exit the cyclical melodic line.

In the “Rag Bhairav” the flute is introduced after the drone of the tambura. It has a very solemn timbre conveying a pensive and heartfelt almost moan, as if the artist had a broken heart and is attempting to digest all his emotions. I can almost feel the pain and confusion. This confusion is supported by what I interpret as the flautists sudden decisions in selecting each note. In the lower octave, the flute has an almost conch-like timbre. I like how the flute’s sounds are just on the brink of breathy, and that the musician beautifully delivers slight bends in pitch. They add to the solemnness of the piece but don’t stand out too much (which I think would make it sound angry). The addition of (two?) percussive instruments halfway through lightens the mood of the piece. (Is part of it in 7/8?) In terms of structure, the percussive musicians are constantly building on the rhythm with very slight variations in their accompaniment. This seemingly measured musical progression contrasts with the improvisational feel of the flute at the beginning.