Leave a comment and share your thoughts: https://open.firstory.me/story/ckvk002b34j0c0938go4chdbo?m=comment Musical themes seem to emerge from the sonic abyss almost by their own volition. But where do they come from? Are they elusive attempts to describe the moment? State of musical mind? Emotion translated into sound? Or are they just, as I discussed in the previous episode, a form of musical memory (and forgetting.) After working through this episode, I must admit that while the provenance of musical themes seems to be some combination of all of the above, in the end, they remain somewhat elusive. Melodic ghosts in the machine of our minds. What I do know is that musical themes want to emerge from the sonic abyss. Like everything else in the universe, order wants to emerge from chaos. This is how life happens. And music. Which leads me to my next episode: how do musical structures naturally emerge from themes? Music Performed or Referenced: Que Sera, Sera Fly Me to Moon Suite for Jazz Quartet Live (midroll and tag music): https://petersaltzman.bandcamp.com/album/tre-jazz-quartet-live-1999 Follow Podcast Homepage Donate Leave a Voicemail Subscribe on Apple Podcasts Bandcamp Page Patreon Page Twitter Peter Saltzman Website Facebook Contact: info@petersaltzman.com Powered by Firstory Hosting

Improvisations on The Ledge

The Theme Dream Machine

"The Many Layers of Musical Memory—and Forgetting" is an episode about how listening to music, and performing it, are really acts of thematic memory—and forgetting. And sometimes the forgetting is part of the creative process. Or maybe it's just forgetting. In any case, I take a deep dive into the many layers of musical memory that go into improvising or composing. But also into the listener's experience of any given piece of music. There is the short-term memory of what happened earlier in a piece of music, but also the long-term, cultural memory that informs every performing/listening experience. And whether short or long term, there is plenty of forgetting involved... Follow Podcast Homepage Donate Leave a Voicemail Subscribe on Apple Podcasts Bandcamp Page Patreon Page Twitter Peter Saltzman Website Facebook Contact: info@petersaltzman.com Powered by Firstory Hosting

S3-E2: The Many Layers of Musical Memory—and Forgetting

After an extended layoff, I've decided to get back to Improvisations On the Ledge by sticking to the theme—literally. The entire season—including this episode—is devoted to musical theme: how we create, perceive it, and make music out of it. In the pilot episode for season three, I randomly stumble upon a couple of themes, including "My Funny Valentine" and "Money, Money, Money", then proceed to create a show out of them. Along the way, I delve into what a "theme" is in musical terms. Is it like the theme of a story? Yes and no. In music, themes, as I discover in this episode, are far more fungible than their literary or dramatic counterpoints. They can magically transform into other themes; themes can generate new themes; musical elements that don't seem on the surface to be thematic can become so by their repeated use. In short, just about any sonic event can become thematic. This is what makes music special. As we'll find out in season three! Music Mentioned My Funny Valentine Money, Money, Money, Money Follow Donate Podcast Home Page Subscribe on Apple Podcasts Bandcamp Page Twitter Peter Saltzman Website Facebook Contact: info@petersaltzman.com Powered by Firstory Hosting

S3-E1: Theme is the Theme

Using jazz educator David Bloom's metaphor, musicians need to look in the rearview mirror and remember the theme if they wish to move forward. But when you look back, you are not just remembering what you played at the beginning of an improvisation—you're remembering all of that music that got you to the point of even being able to look back in the first place. Powered by Firstory Hosting

Rearview Mirror

Remember the ThemeUsing jazz educator David Bloom's metaphor, musicians need to look in the rearview mirror and remember the theme if they wish to move forward. But when you look back, you are not just remembering what you played at the beginning of an improvisation—you're remembering all of that music that got you to the point of even being able to look back in the first place.FollowPodcast HomepageSubscribe on Apple PodcastsBandcamp PagePatreon PageTwitterPeter Saltzman WebsiteFacebookContact: info@petersaltzman.com

My intent was to dive into Part 2 of my “End of Melody Episode,“ but by planned chance, I rolled the dice and came up with something completely different. Unplanned, but fated to be this way? Possibly. Powered by Firstory Hosting

Planned Chance

Planned ChanceMy intent was to dive into Part 2 of my “End of Melody Episode,“ but by planned chance, I rolled the dice and came up with something completely different. Unplanned, but fated to be this way? Possibly.Almost all improvisation is built upon a kind of planned chance. You set up the parameters—this theme, these scales, those chords, etc.—then...go. Does this make it ultimately...deterministic, fated to be more or less a certain way? Yes, more or less.But also no.Composers and musicians have for years experimented with various approaches to leaving parts or all of a given piece of music to chance. Why? You could make the argument that it’s simply the only way to make music in realtime. At least for humans. If computers are doing the work, then you can certainly get the same exact performance of a piece of music.And of course, when we listen to any recorded piece of music, it’s pretty much the same every time—though even here there are variables related to the equipment you’re using for playback, the space you’re in, and, of course, you state of mind. Not to mention the fact that no two people hear the same piece of music exactly the same way.Recorded Music Will Always Be an Improvisational Listening ExperienceIn that case, every music listening experience, even if you’ve heard the piece a thousand times, is a new improvisation. You man know where the music is going, but you don’t necessarily know how it will affect you, how you’ll experience it. This is because time only moves forward and no moment is the same as any other moment.Big deal, you say. But the point is, improvisation is the natural state of experiencing music for both the musician and the listener. And it doesn't matter if the music is completely written, entirely left to chance, or the kind of planned chance that I play with in this episode.It all does and doesn't work out in the end.Music Performed:Completely Unplanned Improv 1Partially planned Improv 2, with two stipulated parametersSlightly more planned Improv 3, with more stipulated parametersImprov 4, combining Improv 2 and 3Music MentionedWiltold Lutoslawski, I recommend symphony 3 and Symphony #4Peter Saltzman and the Revolution Ensemble: Indeterminacy is, in fact, the title of this track and it provides an excellent example of what I talk about in the episode: planned chance, wherein within a larger design many elements are left to the discretion of the player (and that includes me, the composer.)In reference to the above, and question of the difference between improvisation and composition,  please check out my track of the day blog post about another piece of music that incorporates both.FollowPodcast HomepageSubscribe on Apple PodcastsBandcamp PagePatreon PageTwitterPeter Saltzman WebsiteFacebookContact: info@petersaltzman.com

Melody. As a creative musician, you're either born with it or not. Or maybe everybody is born with it but some choose to suppress it. Why would anybody do that? Powered by Firstory Hosting

The End of Melody, Part 1

Melody. As a creative musician, you're either born with it or not. Or maybe everybody is born with it but some choose to suppress it. Why would anybody do that?Music Performed:Prelude to Tristan und IsoldeImprovisations on Tristan themesOther improvisationsMusic MentionedTristan und Isolde, Richard WagnerBlue Train, John ColtraneBessie's Blues, John ColtraneFollow Me:Peter Saltzman WebsiteBandcamp PagePodcast HomepageSubscribe on Apple PodcastsPatreon PageTwitterFacebookContact: info@petersaltzman.com

Math, science, and logic can explain a lot but not everything about how music works. The strange thing, though, is that great music almost always has a perfect logic to it. How is that possible? Powered by Firstory Hosting

The (Un)Quantifiable Mystery of Music

When you study music—learn an instrument, how to compose, improvise, etc.—you are essentially learning a kind of mathematical language of sound moving through time. It’s a system of ratios, addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division.We musicians may not think about this consciously, but on some level, we’re always processing the act of music-making through logical and mathematical principles. 5/8 time? We think 3+2 or 2+3. F7#9? We think of a chord based on a series of intervals that, when put together, “add” up to that chord. The chord itself can be derived from one or more scales that themselves consist of a series of intervals, which are in turn derived from acoustical ratios that make those scales (usually five or seven notes) add up. Even the way we figure out which fingers to use when playing the piano—a complex calculus that balances the physical layout of the keyboard, the relative strength and weakness of each finger, and the requirements of the music itself—involves high-level mathematical decision making.Is this too much cold, hard math for you, dear listener? Will this ruin your experience of, say, Sweet Caroline (in a way, I mean, that the overplaying of that Neil Diamond classic hasn’t already?) **Well, here’s the cold, hard truth: you also process music this way. You may not know you’re hearing 5/8 time or an F7#9, but a part of your brain is devoted to breaking down those sonic phenomena into to the very ratios that make them pleasing (or stressful, or sad, or elusive.)The point is, the emotional experience of music is fundamentally based on these ratios. To be sure, there are other factors—cultural, sentiment, memory—that contribute to our experience of music. But the underlying reality of music, like everything else in the universe, is a kind of math.That doesn't render the emotional experience of listening to music a dull exercise in logic. But it does remind us that there's a lot of "data" contributing to our experience. Some of the data we can come to understand through study. The deepest levels, like the ultimate nature of reality itself, however, will always remain elusive.Music Performed:Original ImprovisationImprovisation combining "Something" & Beethoven's 5th ThemesImprovisation combining "Knocking at Heaven's Door" & Beethoven's 5th ThemesImprov on Beethoven's 4th, ála ColtraneMusic MentionedSinatra cover of "Something": https://youtu.be/eI7HxkbY-9ABeethoven's 5th Symphony, Leonard BernsteinKnocking at Heaven's Door: https://youtu.be/rm9coqlk8fYGlenn Gould Bach: https://music.apple.com/us/album/bach-english-suites-bwv-806-811-french-suites-bwv-812/557250210FollowPeter Saltzman WebsitePodcast HomepageSubscribe on Apple PodcastsBandcamp PagePatreon PageTwitterFacebookContact: info@petersaltzman.com

In this episode, I do battle with Philip Glass and, by extension, the entire genre of minimalism. To my surprise, though, I found that even while I reject the aesthetic as a whole, there’s plenty I can take from it creatively—but only by adapting some of its techniques in ways never intended by its practitioners. Powered by Firstory Hosting

Maximal Minimalism: Me v. Philip Glass

In this episode, I do battle with Philip Glass and, by extension, the entire genre of minimalism. To my surprise,  though, I found that even while I reject the aesthetic as a whole, there’s plenty I can take from it creatively—but only by adapting some of its techniques in ways never intended by its practitioners.Original Music In This Episode:(see "Breaking Glass" album for complete tracks and more.On The Possibility of SongFast ScalesEndlessly MelodyBreaking Glass 4Breaking Glass 2Breaking Glass 3Mimimally BluesyMusic Discussed in This Episode:Beethoven's 7th Sympony (Movement 1)Philip Glass, Einstein on the BeachJohn Coltrane, TunjiFollow Me:Peter Saltzman WebsiteBandcamp PagePodcast HomepageSubscribe on Apple PodcastsPatreon PageTwitterFacebookContact: info@petersaltzman.com 

After I finished recording this episode, I remembered that I had already done one early laster season on the same subject. Thus the "again". I didn't go back and listen to that because I gotta believe this one's completely different. Or is it? Powered by Firstory Hosting

Everything's Related to Everything Else (Again)

After I finished recording this episode, I remembered that I had already done one early laster season on the same subject. Thus the "again". I didn't go back and listen to that because I gotta believe this one's completely different. Or is it? Follow Me:Peter Saltzman WebsiteBandcamp PagePodcast HomepageSubscribe on Apple PodcastsPatreon PageTwitterFacebookContact: info@petersaltzman.com

In "Improvisations on the Ledge," award-winning composer-pianist Peter Saltzman searches for universal truths by stumbling upon them—both with words and music. The basic premise is simple: he improvises on the piano, then talks about what the music tells him. Then makes music about what the talking tells him. Then...well, it goes on like this. Droll, funny, dramatic, musical, short.

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Improvisations on The Ledge

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