A unique blend of choir and bowed crystal glasses

Sketches

Nomentum

A unique blend of Choir, Tiako Drums and bowed crystal glasses.

Telling a tale of Phantzi

Phantazi

The view inside is not always what is expected.

Art isn't always pretty, but when done honestly, it is a true reflection of the artist and their views.

A Little Bit O' That

Heavy drums meet smooth synthetic pads to create a driving sonic soundscape

Chrysalis

Sampled and detuned churchbells provide the sonic textures for this exploration of abstract ambience

CHURCHbELLS

Ethnic percussion with a health dose of hammered dulcimer create the spirited mood.

Spirit Dance

A hybrid electro-acoustic piece for percussion ensemble.



Terminal Memory

When is blackmail born? 

When a person commits the blackmailable act? 

Or is it when someone attempts to exploit that action?


This piece for drumset and piano explores this question, and the many emotions that rush through a blackmailed  person.

Please drop a comment with your answer to question!

The Birth Of Blackmail

Welcome to an auditory feast of contrasting flavors! 'Peanut Butter and Hubris' is a musical journey that blends whimsical melodies with audacious rhythms, embodying the essence of playful arrogance. 

This composition dances between sweet harmonies reminiscent of indulgent peanut butter and the bold, assertive tones representing the audacity of hubris. 

Join us as we delve into this musical exploration that juxtaposes the deliciously harmonious with the daringly bold

117 BPM: F minor - 

MOODS
Mellow (80), Chill (70), Sad (60), Beautiful (50), Sexy (40)

INSTRUMENTS
Synth, Drums, Strings, Piano, Harp

===========
Comparing peanut butter to hubris in the context of music is an interesting challenge. 

Peanut butter, a versatile spread loved by many, can be likened to the foundational elements in the piece. It is represented in the basic, essential components of rhythm, melody, and harmony that form the backbone of the music. 

On the other hand, hubris, characterized by excessive pride or self-confidence, can be equated to a person's  overestimation of their own abilities or importance. It might reflect arrogance that leads a person to take action solely for their own gratification, neglecting the others and losing touch with humility and destroying their authenticity.

Peanut Butter And Hubris

On the rugged cliffs of a remote coastal village, a young woman named Elara could often be seen gazing out at the sea. The villagers would whisper about her, speculating that she was mourning a lost love, perhaps a sailor taken by the unforgiving ocean. Her delicate features, framed by wild, wind-swept hair, seemed etched with sorrow as she stood day after day, eyes fixed on the horizon.

The villagers, seeing her sorrowful vigil, assumed she was longing for the return of her husband, unaware of the darkness that awaited her within the walls of their home. They would offer her comforting words, saying, “Don’t worry, Elara, Darius will return to you soon,” or “The sea can be cruel, but it will bring him back safely.” Elara would nod silently, tears gathering in her eyes, but the truth was far from what they imagined.

Elara’s story was well-known among the townsfolk. She had married a fisherman named Darius, a man whose charm and good looks had captivated her when they first met. But soon after the wedding, his true nature had emerged. Darius was cruel and violent, his temper like the storms that often raged over the sea. He would disappear for days on his fishing trips, only to return with fury in his heart and fists that followed. The bruises on Elara's skin were hidden beneath long sleeves and high collars, but her spirit bore the heaviest scars.

Each day Elara stood on the cliff, she wasn’t hoping for Darius's return. She was praying for the sea to keep him. The idea of his ship never returning, of the ocean claiming him as it had so many others, was the only thought that brought her a flicker of peace. She imagined the waves pulling him under, silencing his rage forever. Yet, she was trapped in a cycle of dread, knowing that if he did return, her suffering would begin anew.

One fateful evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky blazed with fiery reds and oranges, a ship appeared in the distance. Elara’s heart clenched in her chest as she recognized the familiar sails. It was Darius's vessel, returning from the sea. The villagers, seeing the ship, cheered and hurried down to the shore, but Elara remained on the cliff, frozen in place.

As the ship drew closer, she saw that it was damaged, the mast splintered and the sails torn. A sudden storm had ravaged the vessel, leaving it barely afloat. But to Elara’s horror, she saw Darius on the deck, alive and shouting orders to his crew. He was coming back.

Tears streamed down Elara’s face, not from relief, but from despair. Her silent prayers had gone unanswered. She could already feel the weight of the chains tightening around her, the suffocating fear returning with each step he would take toward their home.

But then, as if in response to her unspoken wishes, the sea churned violently beneath the ship. A monstrous wave rose up, towering over the vessel before crashing down with a force that splintered wood and swallowed men whole. In an instant, the ship was gone, dragged into the abyss by the unforgiving sea.

The villagers gasped in horror, some falling to their knees, while others cried out in disbelief. But Elara remained still, her tears drying in the salty breeze. Her heart, once heavy with dread, now felt light. She turned away from the sea, the burden lifted from her soul.

As the villagers mourned the loss of Darius and his crew, Elara walked back to her small cottage. For the first time in years, she felt a sense of freedom, the shackles of fear finally broken. The sea had taken what it had once returned, and in its wake, it had given her the greatest gift she could have asked for: a life free from Darius, a future she could shape with her own hands.

And so, the woman who once mournfully stared out to sea now looked toward the horizon with quiet hope, no longer bound by the shadows of her past.



Sketches 2024

Waiting For The Tide (MASTER 9/28/2024)

Eric Schultheiss is a graduate of The University of California Irvine School of Music, where he studied as a classically trained percussionist. As an undergraduate member of the Gassman Electronic Music Studio steering committee, Schultheiss collaborated with Drama and Dance departments to further the School of Fine Art's mastery of software for sound synthesis, sequencing, digital audio, and sound processing. 

Eric’s passion for ethic percussion permeates his electro-acoustic compositions for film and dance. As the Corona Conservatory of Music’s Head of Electronic Music, Eric mentors students in music theory, digital signal processing, psychoacoustics, and music publishing via social media.

-- All of that in plain English... --

Eric writes music that has lots of drums and other percussion instruments in it. 

He's been doing it since college where he was one of the first people to connect a Mac Plus to some really low quality samplers (you know, they were sounded really good at the time...)

The songs/compositions where pretty good, and a bunch of Choreographers and a few Drama Directors worked with him and a few other students to create some really cool multimedia pieces for dance and drama.

Eric's upgraded his gear since then and now uses Reaper on his Desktop computer and Audio Evolution on his Android phone when he is creating/recording.

He continues to work with students (young and old )that want to learn old and new school approaches to create music. They are creating some amazing pieces and he encourages you all to check their unique and developing artistic voices over the Corona Conservatory of Music (www.ccofmusic.org) and at the Ioniate Media Group's Website (www.ioniate.com)

New tracks tagged #Ioniate