Microtonality at the 2003 Edinburgh Festival

The 2003 Edinburgh International Festival opened with Kurtag's 'Stele'. I
don't know the piece but, according to the reviewer, it begins with a
passage of microtones. Is this significant I wonder? Probably not. There
was the usual gathering of top class ensembles and soloists but, with the
exception of the mini Oriental festival, nothing of interest from a strictly
microtonal point of view.

I therefore dived headlong into the programme of Korean music. First an
evening of 'Sanjo' or "scattered melodies". Sanjo is a genre of instrumental
multi-movement pieces developed from the music of the south-western Cholla
province of Korea.

I won't go off-topic and elaborate on the art-form, but I must say that the
virtuosity and radical microtonal nature of the music deserves some comment.

The recital began with a taegum (bamboo flute) player accompanied by the
changgo, a double-headed hourglass drum. The rhythmic cycles played on the
changgo are highly structured. Melodies are phrased to match these cycles.

Musicians say that 'songum', a concept that indicates both voice colour and
ornamentation, characterises the genre. Songum is heard in the way musicians
bend tones, shade pitches and add vibrato to impart a feeling of deep
sorrow.

The timbre of the taegum is unlike that of the sweet western flute.
Apparently the fingerholes are equidistant (does this imply a subharmonic
series?) and an extra hole between mouthpiece and fingerholes is covered by
a sympathetic resonator, allowing players to add buzzing to loud pitches and
to notes in high tessituras. In western music I've only ever heard
guitarists like Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughan bend notes like this
flautist.

If this wasn't far enough "out there", on came a female Kayagum player. The
Kayagum is the most popular Korean instrument , a 12 string zither. She
moved around the instrument like a sorceress, bending, pre-bending, sliding
(both glissandi and portamenti for the cognoscenti) and double stopping with
all of the above.

As my brain began to implode under the weight of all these microtones there
entered a man with an Ajaeng, or bowed zither. (want-one-now) This
instrument has its origin in shamanism and has seven or eight strings, a low
tessitura and is bowed with a cello bow. I can only say that the sound was
like music from another planet. Double and triple stops with all varieties
of bends and slides seemed to be the norm, relieved occasionally by a snatch
of folk melody.

The ensemble was completed by two female Pansori singers and a Ching (gong)
player. I'll leave you to imagine what the resulting sound was like.

I found out later at a study day that these musicians were Korea's finest.
In my next posting I'll tell you about about the art of Pansori, about
meeting the musicians and about my attempts to find out more about the
tuning and playing of these instruments.

Best Wishes
a.m.

Alison,

--- In tuning@yahoogroups.com, Alison Monteith <alison.monteith3@w...> wrote:

> I therefore dived headlong into the programme of Korean music.

Thanks for sharing your plunge. I look forward to your next 'header' into the Pansori stuff, and so glad you are experiencing it first-hand (or is that first-ears?).

Cheers,
Jon