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Sally Beamish

Now everyone can be a composer … or at least sound like one. And write programme notes … for money! It’s never been so easy!

By using the Contemporary Classical Composer’s Bullshit Generator you will be able to hold your own in conversations at (say) the Huddersfield Contemporary Music Festival where everyone talks like this:

By engaging in critical incorporating, I seek to overcome the existing radical models, and establish a more diametric and rhythmic paradigm. My latest piece begins with a rather serialist ‘space-melody’, before post-serially transforming the existing passive material into a more post-Schoenbergly-structured state, a process I term ‘subtractively-multimedia-influencing’. When planning my predominant motifs, I often find that creating a somewhat psycho-theoretical array of musical octaves helps a great deal. Recently, I have started to embrace time-signatures as a strongly-diverse alternative to established forms of post-War sound-fundamentals, which has made my work iconically theoretical. In short, the recording must never compose the notation.
In short, the timbre must never perceive the player. To write is a natural desire, but my current compositional activity seeks to undermine all continuities. It also incorporates and opposes generatively-diverse material-parts. The pursuit of binary sculpture-noises to juxtapose the mostly-post-War paradigm is a key focus of my synthetic study. It must be remembered that challenging approaches, especially if they are complex (or even microtonal), should be avoided. As a primarily stylistic artist, I aim to integrate the unity within triadic-possibilities, and bring forth a single polyphony that really interprets the most tense issues.
To mix is a natural desire, but my current compositional activity seeks to inform all aesthetics. It also superimposes and examines neo-Romantically-literal riff-instrumentations. It is of paramount importance that contemporary, intellectual continuity-non-linearities must never be allowed to become discontinuous, or symbolically complex. My work has been seminal in the development of ‘iconically-gestural theoretical-music’, a highly intellectual, and rather non-linear genre. My style is the only one of its kind, due in part to the inclusion of highly-orchestral semitone-linearities, with a hint of so-called ‘module-melodies’. It must be remembered that dominating pitches, especially if they are melodic (or even melodic), should be avoided.

I’ve always been partial to Yes from their most ambitious period. Tales from Topographic Oceans, Relayer, Drama, these represent to me the best rock has to offer.

Rock critics like to call this music pretentious, but “pretentious” only means something ambitious that failed. Something ambitious that succeeds is called “great”. Yes were great half the time and pretentious the other half. Their great stuff has a structural complexity that really hangs together in a symphonic sort of way. I’m specifically talking about the first two sides of Tales from Topographic Oceans. You have thematic contrast, development, synthesis, and a certain amount of fucking around too, but not too much. My young friend Melissa listened to this and said “Do these guys know about Mahler?”

The very end of The Gates of Delirium is one of the most imaginatively elaborated plagal cadences in all music. The chords spiral upwards around E flat, C minor, F minor, but if you listen to the persistent C in the bass you know it’s already arrived at where it’s going to end up.

Into the Lens is built around a trompe l’oeil rhythmic ostinato that somehow fits into the context of 4/4 as in 6/8.

Black Dogs Defined

This is the best of me; for the rest, I ate, and drank, and slept, loved and hated, like another: my life was as the vapour and is not; but this I saw and knew; this, if anything of mine, is worth your memory.

(John Ruskin, Sesame and Lilies)

Whatever people say I am, that’s what I’m not.

(Alan Sillitoe, Saturday Night and Sunday Morning)

This is my letter to the world, that never wrote to me.

(Emily Dickinson, This is my letter to the world)

Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!

(Edna St. Vincent Millay, Second Fig)

R.A.D. Stainforth

I was born before The Beatles’ first LP and brought up in the reeking slums of Jericho. I am in love with a woman called Hazel and in love with her daughter, also called Hazel, both of whom I met at Alcoholics Anonymous.

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