Technology has a way of catching up to us. Every year, machines become more and more advanced, and every year those advancements make it possible for a machine to be able to perform a task as good, if not better than, a human. 65 years ago it would've been impossible to imagine machines that could recognize human speech, let alone carry on a conversation. Today anyone with a modern smartphone can push a button and talk to a digital personal assistant who can help us manage schedules, make dinner reservations, find directions, and even tell jokes. We're still a few short years away from being able to carry on a true conversation with a machine, but that eventuality is now not a matter of if, but when - and the 'when' in this case will become 'now' much sooner than we think.
In 1950 the logician and computer scientist Alan Turing (you may remember him from the award-winning biopic The Imitation Game about his work cracking the ENIGMA code during World War II) proposed an experiment called the Turing Test to try to determine how good machines could be at mimicking human behavior. Keep in mind that in 1950 computers didn't even have display screens, let alone the ability to understand and mimic human speech. But Turing's test was designed around the technology at the time: an interviewer behind a partition asked questions through a computer interface (which at the time consisted of punch cards and teletype tickers) and the answers would either come from a human operator at the other end, or the computer itself. If the interviewer was unable to tell whether the responses came from the computer or a human operator, then the computer was said to have passed the test.
Today, there are web chat programs that can very convincingly mimic a text conversation. Actually this technology has been around for a couple of decades. One such program, A.L.I.C.E. (Artificial Linguistic Internet Computer Entity) has been around since 1995, and that was based on a previous program called ELIZA which gave programmed responses to questions in an almost human-like interaction as far back as 1965. Nowadays many businesses use web-based "bots" similar to ALICE as customer service portals which can answer basic questions about the company's products. Often the customers don't even know they're not chatting with a human. Many of these chat bots have scored higher than 50% on the Turing Test, enough to be considered a passing grade. But none of these computer chat programs are actually capable of thinking like a human -- yet.
(Chat with A.L.I.C.E. here)
(MegaHAL and CleverBot, two other AI's that are fun to chat with)
What does all of this have to do with music? Well, just as technology has developed ways to do almost everything else, there are machines that can operate musical instruments to create variances in pitch, dynamics, and rhythm to mimic the sonic smorgasbord known to us as music. MIDI has existed for years, and sequenced synthesized digital instruments are a major part of almost every pop song being played on the radio. There is now a robot that is capable of duplicating John Coltrane's solo on Giant Steps note-for-note.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OjONQNUU8Fg
But when you close your eyes and listen to that robot pumping air across a reed and moving tiny servo motors to work the saxophone keys, something is missing. Any listener can tell that the sounds are being created by a robot playing the saxophone, not a human.
Why is it so easy to tell the difference? Because music is supposed to feel like something. It's not yet possible for a machine to mimic the feeling that accompanies a musical performance. It may never be possible - although I can almost guarantee there's an engineer somewhere working on it.
But this brings up another interesting observation: while it is currently not possible for a robot to play music that sounds like it's being performed by a human, it is unfortunately very possible for a human to put on a robotic performance. Sadly, too many students of the musical arts focus so deeply on developing flawless technique on their instrument that they lose sight of the fact that flawless technique is just step one. Any robot can perform with flawless technique. Using that technique to create art and evoke feeling should be the goal of every human performer.
The next time you're practicing or performing, ask yourself this question: will people listening to this be able to tell the difference whether it's being performed by a human being or a robot? Can your playing pass the Turing Test?
Thursday, August 27, 2015
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Internalize your music!
Most music students learn to play by practicing a specific scale or a specific pattern or a specific piece of music until they can play it flawlessly. The scales, patterns, etudes, and pieces are written using standard western music notation, assigned by an instructor, and practiced by the student in such a way as to master the ability to perform them specifically and precisely every time. This is the time-honored way of learning to master the skill of playing an instrument. Music has been taught and learned this way since the beginning of formalized western music education in European monasteries during the middle ages. Developing skills this way leads to virtuosic technique, enhanced muscle memory, heightened mental concentration and focus, and often a greater understanding of the emotional interpretation of a composer's intent as applied to a specific musical composition with regard to dynamics and expression. As an added side bonus, the students learn to expertly decipher a complex two-part code wherein a series of dots and lines is first translated into a corresponding series of letter-names, and then those letter names translated into their corresponding pitches on the student's chosen instrument.
All of these are Good Things. But they are not the music. The skills involved in learning to play an instrument are part of the tools a musician uses to create music; the notes on the page are part of the road map to get there; but the music itself is far, far beyond the simple mechanics of tone production and notation.
But what is beyond the notes on the page? What is beyond the set of instructions given in the form of a page of dots and lines and squiggles that all mean specific things to a musician but are just dots and lines and squiggles to everyone else? How can one begin the transition from following a specific set of instructions toward actually creating music?
Shift your thinking!
What's necessary is a fundamental shift in thinking. The music is not the notes on the page; those are just instructions. The music itself is art expressed through sound, using the elements of rhythm, pitch, and dynamic volume in such a way as to cause listeners to feel a particular emotion or emotions. The notes on the page reflect a composer's intent, instructions from composer to performer on how to create the music -- but the music itself exists only for an infinitesimally small amount of time, a singular moment while the sounds are actually being made. Prior to that moment, the music exists only as an idea in the mind of the composer which has been set out as instructions to follow; after the music's moment is over it exists only as a memory in the minds of the listeners. Even recordings are only a mechanical duplication of music which has already happened. The moment at which it is being performed live is the only time music actually exists as music.
For this reason, the performer's role in the moment is paramount in the creation of the actual music; in order to truly create music, players must learn to rise above the stature of being simply a follower of instructions, and instead become a co-Creator along with the composer and the other members of the ensemble. This involves taking part in a shared vision that starts with the composer, continues with the performer(s), and ends with the audience.
Make music instead of just playing notes!
In order to share this vision, as a performer, it must become your vision. The composer's ideas must also become your own. The music must be internalized to such a degree that there is no degree of separation between the composer's intent and your own; you must play and feel the music as if you are creating a new musical experience for your listeners, every time. Whether the music was composed by someone else or not doesn't matter; when you perform it you make it yours.
Internalizing the music involves more than just practicing the notes on the page until you can play them flawlessly. To internalize the music, you must gather the notes into groups of phrases that make sense together. Instead of thinking of notes and intervals, think of how those notes and intervals come together to make a melody. Listen to that melody as a whole, which is greater than the sum of its parts. Sing or hum it. Then take that melody and play it in a different key. Play it on a different instrument. Don't think of it as notes; think of it as a melodic phrase. By the time you're through working on it, you should be able to sing or play that melody in any key at any tempo.
When we improvise jazz, we are functioning as both composer and performer - and sometimes also audience. It is therefore doubly important to internalize the groups of notes, melodies, and phrases; not only that, but your entire musical thought process must be internalized in order to be a successful jazz improviser. Even something as simple as a scale should be so much a part of you that you can roll it off in any key at any tempo without even thinking about it.
Practice scales with intent
One way to internalize your music is by practicing scales with intent. Instead of just mindlessly running scales, treat your scales as if they are melodies to be internalized. Break your scales into smaller groups of notes, 3 or 4 or 5 notes at a time, and play these patterned scales in every key until your fingers can play any part of any scale starting from any note, on a moment's notice. Do the same thing for arpeggios and other patterns.
Make music in the moment
But Remember that all of this is just preparation; the music itself hasn't happened yet. The music happens when you play your melody while someone else is listening. All of the practicing and all of the preparation you do to develop skills, this is all to prepare you to be able to Create music in each singular moment of interaction between yourself and your audience. Then that moment is gone and you're on to the next moment. When you internalize the music and make it your own; only then can you expect your audience to respond to what they feel in the moment, instead of just observing.
All of these are Good Things. But they are not the music. The skills involved in learning to play an instrument are part of the tools a musician uses to create music; the notes on the page are part of the road map to get there; but the music itself is far, far beyond the simple mechanics of tone production and notation.
But what is beyond the notes on the page? What is beyond the set of instructions given in the form of a page of dots and lines and squiggles that all mean specific things to a musician but are just dots and lines and squiggles to everyone else? How can one begin the transition from following a specific set of instructions toward actually creating music?
Shift your thinking!
What's necessary is a fundamental shift in thinking. The music is not the notes on the page; those are just instructions. The music itself is art expressed through sound, using the elements of rhythm, pitch, and dynamic volume in such a way as to cause listeners to feel a particular emotion or emotions. The notes on the page reflect a composer's intent, instructions from composer to performer on how to create the music -- but the music itself exists only for an infinitesimally small amount of time, a singular moment while the sounds are actually being made. Prior to that moment, the music exists only as an idea in the mind of the composer which has been set out as instructions to follow; after the music's moment is over it exists only as a memory in the minds of the listeners. Even recordings are only a mechanical duplication of music which has already happened. The moment at which it is being performed live is the only time music actually exists as music.
For this reason, the performer's role in the moment is paramount in the creation of the actual music; in order to truly create music, players must learn to rise above the stature of being simply a follower of instructions, and instead become a co-Creator along with the composer and the other members of the ensemble. This involves taking part in a shared vision that starts with the composer, continues with the performer(s), and ends with the audience.
Make music instead of just playing notes!
In order to share this vision, as a performer, it must become your vision. The composer's ideas must also become your own. The music must be internalized to such a degree that there is no degree of separation between the composer's intent and your own; you must play and feel the music as if you are creating a new musical experience for your listeners, every time. Whether the music was composed by someone else or not doesn't matter; when you perform it you make it yours.
Internalizing the music involves more than just practicing the notes on the page until you can play them flawlessly. To internalize the music, you must gather the notes into groups of phrases that make sense together. Instead of thinking of notes and intervals, think of how those notes and intervals come together to make a melody. Listen to that melody as a whole, which is greater than the sum of its parts. Sing or hum it. Then take that melody and play it in a different key. Play it on a different instrument. Don't think of it as notes; think of it as a melodic phrase. By the time you're through working on it, you should be able to sing or play that melody in any key at any tempo.
When we improvise jazz, we are functioning as both composer and performer - and sometimes also audience. It is therefore doubly important to internalize the groups of notes, melodies, and phrases; not only that, but your entire musical thought process must be internalized in order to be a successful jazz improviser. Even something as simple as a scale should be so much a part of you that you can roll it off in any key at any tempo without even thinking about it.
Practice scales with intent
One way to internalize your music is by practicing scales with intent. Instead of just mindlessly running scales, treat your scales as if they are melodies to be internalized. Break your scales into smaller groups of notes, 3 or 4 or 5 notes at a time, and play these patterned scales in every key until your fingers can play any part of any scale starting from any note, on a moment's notice. Do the same thing for arpeggios and other patterns.
Make music in the moment
But Remember that all of this is just preparation; the music itself hasn't happened yet. The music happens when you play your melody while someone else is listening. All of the practicing and all of the preparation you do to develop skills, this is all to prepare you to be able to Create music in each singular moment of interaction between yourself and your audience. Then that moment is gone and you're on to the next moment. When you internalize the music and make it your own; only then can you expect your audience to respond to what they feel in the moment, instead of just observing.
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