Creative Work

Extended portfolio here.

Personal website here.

Glyptic Channels (2019) 36 min. for two trombones, organ, laptop ensemble, electronics, and installation space

Voices and Apparitions (2016) 7 min. for soprano and electronics

Polyptych (2020) 15 min. for voice, percussion, and electronics

That Is a Field Folded (2017) 11 min. for string quartet

Cf. (2018) 6 min. for piano and percussion

 

Glyptic Channels (2019) — 36 min.

A composition-installation for two trombones, organ, laptop ensemble, fixed media, and cathedral. Designed for and installed in the Princeton University Chapel through a collaboration with Facilities, the Music Department, and the Office of Religious Life. Written for and performed by a fourteen-person mixed ensemble: RAGE Thormbones, Eric Plutz, and the Princeton University Laptop Orchestra.

The audience moves freely about the space. First-person field recordings of walking through the woods are punctuated by time-warped trombone samples, close recordings of fingers on a bass drum, and phonemes arranged in semi-sung gestures. The live instruments articulate a long process of harmonic clarification from free-frequency microtonality to the vertical extension of a single fundamental F. The trombones move from the balcony to the rafters, coaxing “non-musical” elements out fo the soundscape and into the musical present.

Each member of the laptop ensemble plays a Metall’Ocean. “Glyptic Channels” has been reimagined and restaged at the Museum of Human Achievement in Austin, TX (as “Glyptic Channels II” with the Mood Illusion) and as an interactive installation at the Outhaus in Los Angeles (as “Glyptic Gardens”).

 

 

Voices and Apparitions (2016) — 7 min.

View score here.

A poem-song for soprano and fixed multichannel playback. Written for Rosie K. 

This piece was written for the New Jersey Composers Guild's Milton Babbitt Centenary concert. Babbitt's "Vision and Prayer" is a soprano-and-electronics setting of Dylan Thomas's shape-poem. I was intrigued by the way a concrete poem—determined by the diamond-and-hourglass shaped stanzas—could be translated into sound. I wrote my own diamond-and-hourglass-shaped poem in response, thinking about how Babbitt's music idealizes the quantification of sound-experience, but the phenomenon of listening to it highlights all that can't be quantified, like an irrational number overspilling with decimals. 

I sampled Rosie’s speak-singing voice, then created a fixed media track that explodes the consonants of the text over a ribbon of continuous vowels. Rosie's performance, which moves from speech to song and back again, is timed to loosely coincide these electronic versions of herself.

"Voices and Apparitions" can be presented as a live voice-and-electronics performance or as a multichannel fixed media piece. It has been presented at the Underwolf Festival (Los Angeles), National Sawdust (New York), and the SEAMUS 2020 conference (Charlottesville, VA and online).

Voices and Apparitions

text by Christopher Douthitt

No

Omened

Or neume-pierced

Veil, no fossils

Scattered thin across

Sunken fields, nor pitchblende-

Hidden ore, nor greenish glow

In foggy glass; no secret scrawl.

To know would be — weighted terms — to know

Past proving grounds, past atoms split,

But the sure pull of numbers

On the thing, which is there

And not, clear as air,

Unencumbered:

A closed all

Opened

On.

Apparitions in the optic nerve,

Like wreckage on sunlit waters,

Elude the earnest plotters

Of spasmed event: surge

Buckshot through blancmange!

Starlings, converge!

That such traps

Don’t snap,

See

Unfixed

Erratic

Beast-things springing

From any nested whole.

So, sudden data singing:

The floor of frozen faces

Concatenates - no, imbricates! -

Inert input - splash! - a dozen vases.

 

 

Polyptych (2020) — 15 min.

Three songs from a cycle in progress. Voice, percussion, and electronics.

View score here.

For voices, percussion, and electronics.

Polyptych is an ongoing song cycle about the future, from a loosely microscopic point of view. Each song starts as a slightly undisciplined sonnet. The songs are linked by thematic content, orchestration, and recurring bits of imagery.

Over the course of the project, the songs have been rearranged for live ensemble performance (voices + percussion), solo performance (voice + electronics), and fixed media playback (the recordings included here). Please note that the linked score reflects a triangulation of these versions, and should not be taken as a literal representation of the sounds in the recording.

I. Organelle

pity pity organelle the sea floor kisses

constellation hawks winding upward tangle

coral tissues spiral moons dangle

spilled from foreign ballast tanks abysses

splay the mountainside as membrane glisses

glass fork tines scatter where fish tails wrangle

where once herded ocean tires now strangle

flocks of simple eyes in foaming fields salt hisses

O tendril’s augur O obsidian’s

inhaler O long toothed polyp whipping

rock drawn wind drift now blissful organelle

phosphoresce littoral meridians

shorebirds are together ripping

a crushed galaxy pity this leaky shell

II. MUL.APIN

Calcareous nibbling. Rain on rock faces. 

(Future graffito snaps iris, scans palm.)

Scratched lens of summit. Mineral traces.

(Future graffito taps heart rate to calm.)

Future graffito, whose inscape erases—

(Aeolian etchings. Scar of scarp-column.)

Graffito’s future, via tablet, replaces.

(Tooth-pile of talus. Regolith slalom.)

Styluses of the anthro-chimera

Inscribing (via stylized lions and link-

Bearded bulls) all weather compendia upcoming.

MUL.APIN consulted, scribbled on sclera

(Via mountain-eyes-heaven; via blink

Of graffito)—ephemera, unsheltered, summing.

III. Two Twins

Two twins twisted in the stomach of a tick.

Low winds tumbling a crow that's stumbled sick.

Swimming pools are stagnant. Rabbit fevers

Jump to dogs. Lumps will savage true believers

Who then win seraphim icons from the clique.

Two twins twisted in a self-infecting lick.

Blood lust hounds immunity achievers.

Pigs catch it, too: now a sudden run on cleavers.

Two twins twisted in: a galaxy shot through

And spongy-thin, the amyloid clots blot,

The animals spin, the plasma vial sours.

Shot through two twisted twins: swaths of sinew

With unraveled ends, the telomere sunspot

That split the skin, the zoonotic zodiac flowers.

 

That Is a Field Folded (2017) — 11 min.

String quartet.

For string quartet. Written for JACK.

Inspired by Robert Duncan's poem, "Often I Am Permitted to Return to a Meadow," which envisions a an ever-opening field, both real and imaginary, where memory, language, and nature are continuously folded over.

The piece begins with a stable pitch "opening" into upper partials, then rupturing, finding solid ground, and ascending as a heterophonic canon. As the melody climbs, the just-intonation pitch field is altered by a sequence of changing fundamentals.

 

Cf. (2018) — 6 min.

Piano and percussion.

For piano and percussion. Written for Lisa Kaplan and Matthew Duvall of eighth blackbird.

Complex, semi-random harmonies and timbres clash against loping, semi-repetitive grooves. A tongue-tied voice, struggling to learn its lines, is continually deflected elsewhere.