Conjuring Sonic Imagery
Composing music that captures a story or a narrative, without the need for words, has long been a fascination of mine. There is something very universal about it. An opportunity to communicate with people of all languages and backgrounds and share an idea in a slightly more abstract and elusive way. Alongside other artforms, such as dance or film, a story can far more easily be conveyed, especially when the music and the visuals work in tandem together, enhancing the storytelling. Without the specificity of words, there is more space for individuality and imagination in the audience’s experience and response.
Recently, I have been intrigued by the prospect of pushing this fascination one step further. Outside of relying on imagery and visuals to support a narrative, what could be achieved when we are left with nothing but music and sound? Is there a way to tell a story without words or visuals, and what would that look like?
Of course, there are natural limitations. When we tell a story with words, we can be very specific, very descriptive, and very detailed. That is the beauty of the written or spoken word. When we remove words and opt for visuals, such as dance, a layer of that detail is diminished. This is why when it comes to narrative ballets, it is often fairy tales that are much more easily conveyed in comparison to full-blown novels, as they have simpler storylines with more easily identifiable moments and characters, and a greater space for artistic expression through the medium of dance. In my experience, when more complex stories are undertaken, it is far more necessary to be very familiar with the source material or bestowed with some thorough programme notes, in order to fully grasp what’s going on. This is not at all a bad thing, but it does slightly change the expectation of the audience members and potentially their experience.
If we are to take away the visuals as well, we are diminishing the level of detail that can possibly be communicated even further. It naturally becomes a more abstract version of the story that relies more heavily on the listener’s imagination. In many ways, this is probably what fascinates me the most- the chance to create a musical experience crafted in such a way that it awakens the listener’s imagination and then takes them on a journey within the parameters of their own mind.
In order to achieve this end, I think the focus lies in our ability to conjure powerful sonic imagery. Through analysing the story that we would like to tell, we can identify the sounds that set the scene, helping us to create the appropriate soundscape. If it is set underwater, in a forest, or in a fairground, then how can we represent that sonically, either through instrument choices, orchestration techniques, or recordings? Building upon this, we can develop a particular language of harmonies and melodies that enhance the overall atmosphere and emotion, potentially using instruments or wordless vocals to represent different characters. Through picking out the key moments in our narrative, we can form the flow of the piece, helping us understand how long certain sections need to last before they must change, so the story can move on right up to its completion.
The opportunities are as endless as one has the capacity to be creative. For, with the absence of words, there is a freedom of expression that can skim the surface of superficiality or reach the heavy depths of the emotional core.
Mermaiden, my most recent release, is a project that explores this method of composition, particularly in the first two parts: Aquoreal & The Underwater Waltz, which endeavour to take the listener on a journey underwater to ‘meet the mermaids’, through the combination of sea sounds, whale song, and vocals. The third movement, however, ‘Song of the Sirens’ does use words in the form of lyrics, which was appropriate for the overall goal of this particular project.
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