viola solo sketch made in an hour for orchestration class sightread by a dude and recorded on a phone and it's not even 30 seconds but still it's worth posting because this player nailed it so hard he gets all the credit.special thanks to Kenneth Frazelle naturally

Harbinger Soliloquy #1

da;cmk,;xfeofcmeciw,gric43itcimrkfvdsnmgij4yu5i04wve csfrkdslgjr-htvdccccajkj;akl;jkel1;jqti3ovemcm,rxbc/bhfsvcmr,exiocrgmajkjfakjkj`'jsvmgkrji25942vcjfa~*%(BVORSDCGJFYOYW_$_*()+++RQC<RIFKSJOP~JO~PJO~V>GFWYTS+GFVSG:FS.G?H?DVMCFDjsfjvgrp4cwgir4wg4w&^Evmgcreofkjacg,sjxg.vcrioqq3t34ci gjklxdgjmvscgak;jfdsz;x'vc,mnfk;iwoejkqjweprjkhgjfkdh;jreia;jdfkas;cjx,zz.zjcaf,;axjfdksaowejgcnfkajfdkajc,ri334$$VAgcmridaosjdf;jfkdajfkda;woa[[[2[ gmcdka;jfck featuring/special thanks to Robert Widoslowski on contrabass. special thanks to joseph conrad, maxy, electric guitar, laura, pianos, notes, cervantes, and the iphone field recorder app. without whom none of these things

three occasions of prattling on about nothing given the void of all sensible behavior

Violin - Kevin Murphy
Piano - Bruce Tippette
Oboe - Walker Harnden

homologue toward lichtmusikdrama

BUT FOR TO SPANGLE THE BLACK WEEDS OF NIGHT/AN EAR OF CORN IN SILENCE SIGHT/AND KNOW THOSE BODIES HIGH REIGN ON THE LIGHT

Hannah Selin - viola
John Driza - clarinet

j hoberman: “His movies are seldom more than a step from some flaming abyss, with his actors (and audience) trembling on the edge. Typically shot with a frenzied, often subjective moving camera in saturated colors that have the over-bright feel of a chemically induced hallucination, these can be hard to watch and harder to forget.
Zulawski films reap the emotional whirlwind. For his characters, all love is what the Surrealists called 'mad love.' They are big on frantic coupling, nonstop ranting and smearing food, sometimes all at once.”

score here mediafire.com/view/?mugayw87cu8534z it's a mess. I am interested in time subjectivity and rhythm totally ambiguous. i am interested in the interstorm waking through compulsive oscillation of dynamic extremity. I am working toward articulative specificity in character oriented focus while the whole plane of time is unmeasured and undescribed. also i kind of hate myself lately but it doesn't matter.

"To save? Nothing to be saved! The world has crumbled, has got smashed, vanished. You must fathom the new laws that govern this decay / and adjust yourself to them." - third part of the night.

LUX ŻULAWSKIA for viola and clarinet

I wanted to blame a single object for everything that occurs upon the canvas' 3 and a half centers of action, cascading out from a catalyst the consequences are felt immediately.

Also, I recorded this by plugging my laptop into itself through the 1/8th inch jacks so I could get layers of digital feedbacking. 

better look at the patch - http://i.imgur.com/d5pi7.png

watch your ears and speakers with this one. there seems something sacred about psychiatrically questionable noise indulgences. that's the only reason i really recorded and posted this. 

i started attacking a Pure Data tutorial 7 hours ago

Amanda Moody - Voice
Cain-Oscar Bergeron - Alto Flute
Lidiya Selikov - Flute
Andrew Pfeiffer - Piano

score - http://www.mediafire.com/view/?adeom19eb47fkww
cover and map - https://dl-web.dropbox.com/get/%C3%A9popteia%20cover%20n%20map.pdf?w=AAAAFjTEZsMXWkui1IYeTfFwZRgxq8y_szpahS5lKzsEaQ including libretto and tableau

(lichtmusikdrama in five songs)
(a history of brooding cosmology, brain burning on)

recorded in Watson Hall Jan'13
from that night's program notes:
"this doesn't really contribute much beyond just imitation Messiaen. 
texts stolen from byron emerson and arrabal. melodies stolen from robins wood thrushes mourning doves meadowlarks and bluebirds. 
the secret is that emerson understood stardust theory ON BEING ASKED WHENCE IS THE FLOWER;"

The Star Sought Refuge in the Flower - Song Four - ÉPOPTEIA

consider a binary void. in the first patch (involving many sin waves > 1 billion herz, creating 'foldback' madness) operating specific kind of homogenous dialogue between various algorithms that aim to obstruct any capacity for pattern or sense. In the performing of this instrument, my aim was simple: stay sparse enough to let the sounds propagate their own fate and doctrine rather than be swept up by contextualization. trying to alienate my own agendas from the material is what necessarily leads to void, i've never had a counter-expressive bone in my body but i love the idea that a thing can be autonomous. ('thing' as in any musical material, aesthetic spur, motive, or musical thought) so i had reason to engage in an exercise of void. I created the second patch to provide the quasi-ambient backing to the first half. Many of these things contribute to making a formal sense that anyone could have come up with and anyone could interpret (rather than the alienation that comes from expression) and this is a consequence of void. that's why i distance myself from it by referring to it as a mere exercise of form.

It is called prestorm because the counter-expressive stride brings us to the balance of nothing before the big bang. that singularity (identical to after the end, don't forget) is said to be the only perfect sense in cosmogenetic history. everything since then has been a storm, a catastrophic nonsense, and stepping away from the idea of expressiveness is stepping into the part of the mind that is in tune with that quantum-cadence. ALL my music concerns in the storm, the disaster, the imbalance. but this (as i've alienated as 'exercise') is before, or (if birth is death and dimensional progression is symmetrical) after the everything.

a glance at patching http://i.imgur.com/Mwr3qv6.png

I must add that myself and this piece are both humbly and insanely indebted to conversations with marek poliks, tim mccormack, and steve takasugi; conversations on aesthetics, forms, and structures. 

Prestorm

Harbinger soliloquy #4

"the world could have ended in the middle of all this, and none of us would've known"

pure data with violin and this toy flute/recorder that my friend max got for like a dollar somewhere. 

rupture/rapture

Harbinger Soliloquy #3

November 2010 to April 2013
present day and onward found here https://soundcloud.com/quinn-dougherty

FIRE IS THE FIRST AND LAST LEITMOTIF.

THE WHOLE HISTORY OF THEISM IS A COPING MECHANISM AND SOON MY MUSIC-THEATRE WILL INVENT A NEW RELIGION. 
SUBTLETY IS THE ULTIMATE FACADE AND CHAIRS ARE FOR THE COMFORTABLE. STAY UNCOMFORTABLE. BREAK CHAIRS. 
IN WAGNER IF YOU FALL IN LOVE YOU DIE. 
WHEN JULIET IS SCREAMING ABOUT GETTING LAID AND DYING SHE MENTIONS THAT SHE WANTS TO RIDE MAD HORSES INTO THE SUN ITSELF. 
I LEARNED FROM BELA TARR ABOUT THE SACRED COMEDY OF THE APOCALYPSE, THAT A JOKE COULD BE WRITTEN CONSISTING ENTIRELY OF SERIOUS AND GOOD PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS.
SAPIENTIAL ESCHATOLOGY MY GENERATION'S CULMINATING REDEMPTIVE GESTURE TO TAKE BACK THE PREMATURE FEAR IN NIETZSCHE'S THE MADMAN.
IT IS OF UTMOST IMPORTANCE THAT BARDS AND SOOTHSAYERS ARE WILLING TO DENY OR OTHERWISE UNDERMINE THEIR OWN DIDACTIC ENTITLEMENT. 
(THEATRE OF NO CHAIRS MEANS NO HIERARCHY. CHAIRS ARE A COMFORT ZONE. A SUBMISSION TO FOLLOW. TO LET OTHERS DO THE WAKING FOR YOU.) SCREAM AT THE LIGHT

SCHEME TOWARD THE PLANLESS. 
ARCHITECTURE TOWARD NONSENSE.

THE IDEA IS THAT THE FRIAR LOVES THE WOLF LIKE DODD LOVES FREDDY QUELL.
CONCERNING WITH THE PRIMORDIAL NECESSITY OF HUMAN NATURE, THE BEING OF THE STORM. 
IN BLADERUNNER THE REPLICANT SHOWS US BYRONICISM WITH A KIND OF HUMILITY THAT IS INEVITABLE AND A KIND OF INEVITABILITY THAT IS HUMBLE.
I AM CONCERNED RATHER WITH THE STORMFIGHTER'S TRAUMATIC BATH IN THE UNCANNY. 
THE MIND OF THE ROMANTIC IS THE GAZE OF THE SUBLIME.

THE SECRET IS THAT EMERSON UNDERSTOOD STARDUST THEORY; ON BEING ASKED WHENCE IS THE FLOWER.
THE CAPACITY FOR IRRATIONAL THOUGHT IS THE FINAL TRIUMPH OF MIND, MAYBE IT HAS TO DO WITH THE FACT THAT IT IS ATOMICALLY COSMIC. THIS IS INEVITABILITY AND HUMILITY. THE DUST TRAVELED NO DISTANCES BETWEEN THE FIRST STAR AND THE LAST BRAIN. BECAUSE OF THIS, I CANNOT FASCINATE WITH THE FIRE AT A DISTANCE, I NEED TO GO UP WITH THE CATASTROPHIC ANXIETY. BEING AWAKE AND UNCOMFORTABLE. 

IN MESSIAEN'S PLAY THE FRIAR LEARNS THE TOTALITY OF GRACE AND IN THE STORM OF TRAUMATIC ECSTASY HIS BRAIN GOES UP IN FLAMES.
MUCH LIKE NIETZSCHE AT TURIN, WHO BY THE WAY HAD AT THAT POINT DONE AWAY WITH CHAOS/ORDER AND FOCUSED THEN ON CHAOS/DIVINE.

THE MIND IS BY DEFINITION A CATASTROPHIC IMBALANCE SO LIGHT UP THE STORM AND BATHED IN THE UNCANNY THE LIGHT THE DISASTER SEE THE IMBALANCE TO ITS END: FIRE, LOVE, NONSENSE, AS SEEN BY THE STORM AS PRESCRIBED BY THE PRIMORDIAL NECESSITY INHERENT IN THE BEING OF THE AWAKE. IF THE ARCHITECT CAN WORK TOWARD GRACE AND THAT ENDS IN THE STORM OF THE GRACE-DEATH, THAT ISN'T BETTER THAN NONSENSE, THE STORM IS IN THE GRACELESS. 

NONSENSE IS THE CATASTROPHIC IMBALANCE, OURS US I, NONSENSE IS THE STORM ITSELF. 

EVERYTHING BEGINS AND ENDS WITH THE INTERNAL THEISM OF BEING. THE IDEA THAT ALL TRANSIENCE AND TRANSCENDENCE IS BY DEFINITION AN ILLUMINATED ILLUSION AFTER YOUR MIND'S TRIUMPHANT CAPACITY FOR IRRATIONAL THOUGHT. 

WITHIN THE PYROTECHNICAL POTENTIAL OF OUTDOOR THEATRE THE SCHEMES COLLAPSE IN THEIR TRIUMPH. 
LIGHT UP THE STORM.

QuinnDougherty '10-apr/13

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