Edward Lynch

MUS 3725
Honors Option
Aesthetics and Techniques of Paul Koonces Hothouse

Hothouse, an electro-acoustic standard, was composed in 1992 by Dr. Paul Koonce on a
NeXTstation, using no microphones, and no multi-channel mixing application, over a period of about
seven months. He worked in a through-composition manner, where everything was composed
chronologically. This was a necessity because of the constraints of technology at the time. He
challenged himself by requiring that he not repeat sounds, other than a recurring snare drum riff,
and that he not revisit scenes. Dr. Koonce recalls that this created the problem of trying to make the
next thing different from the previous was something that he ultimately celebrated because it lead
to the creation of a very unique work. In addition, there was improvisation as the piece was put
together, as Dr. Koonce only had ideas and themes in mind, but not a full out score written out.
Surprisingly, Koonce actually composed so that sounds would suggest a constructed origin that was
at odds with the actual sound. As I questioned him about the reduced listening mode for this song,
he actually seemed to rather encourage trying to link sounds to a physical origin so that the piece
would become more interesting when the sound source became questionable. I made the work by
thinking strongly about how sounds represent things, and how combinations of sounds could be
designed to create scenic tableau or mini-narratives that were striking as a result of the speed and
nature of their changesmany of the changes are designed to have a surreal aspect to them
(Koonce). In addition, he noted how it would be impossible, for example, to listen solely to the
harmonies of an organ. I find it very interesting and encouraging that a composer would suggest not
conforming completely to the reduced mode of listening because ultimately it is in our nature to try
to tie a less familiar sound to one were familiar with. Whether other people hear the changes *in
the reduced mode of listening+ or not is something I cant speak to, as our experience of soundand
our memory of it an what is associates with is highly personal (Koonce).
Having found the baby cry sound particularly interesting, I wanted to find out what
techniques were associated with the sound and its different uses. Dr. Koonce first changed the rate
of playback at specific times so that the association pitch change would cancel out any pitch changes
in the original baby cry. This allowed him to start with a clean slate, so to speak. He then wanted to
exaggerate the babys quick changes of timbre. To do so, he applied varying amount of time
expansion to slow down these key parts. In one instance, he used this crying sound with an oboe
playing the same pitch and then reintroduced glissando-like pitch trajectories to the mix that could
suggest, perhaps, not only the original baby, but also some kind of Middle Eastern double-reed
instrument (Koonce). At another moment in the piece, the baby sound gets transposed an octave
down, its spectrum adjusted to sound more human, and then used as the sound of a moaning man.
Since Dr. Koonce only had sound effect CDs available as material, this piece challenged him, which
resulted in many of the interesting substitute sounds that we hear. He also had to figure out how to
transform sounds he did have into ones he didnt have, for example, changing a piano into a sitar.
The combination of the challenges he faced and improvisation brought Hothouse to be a piece very
expressive of Dr. Koonce himself. It made his musical, gestural psyche into a kind of theme that was
reformedby the challenge of each new segment (Koonce). This seems to be quite the ideal
situation for a composer and his work, if indeed he desires to express himself. I admire this method
because rather than, for example, having a preset bank of synthesizers to choose from, the composer
will strive to get exactly the sound they want instead of settling for something close because its
easier to.
The fact that Hothouse was composed on a NeXTstation is very interesting to me. Although
it is considered primitive by todays technological standards, with its 200 MB of disk space and 25
MHz CPU, it was, in its time, the one of the most powerful commercially available computers. This is
also exciting because Dr. Koonce was really part of the first generation that was able to start to bring
to fruition the vision of Steve Jobs (founder of NeXT) of combining art and technology. However, the
$5000 price of the NeXTstation caused this opportunity mostly to only be available to educational
institutions.
Regarding acceptance of Hothouse and electro-acoustic work in general, Dr. Koonce seems to
have no expectations, and composes despite not knowing whether it will be appreciated: Best to
expect nothing at all and be pleasantly surprised when listeners appear (Koonce). This seems to
reinforce the fact that a good composers goal is to express himself no matter what, or as Dr. Koonce
states, *a+ reenactment of *his+ baseline expressive behaviors. When asked whether he preferred
his own created sound events over everyday sounds, he did not pick either. I thought it might be the
case that he would prefer sounds he had created since he is driven by the search for sound presence
and ear catching sound events and therefore could control these sounds to make them more
appealing. Instead, he gave the fair assessment that comparing created sound with ambient sound,
which just happen to both be sounds, would be like comparing apples and oranges, which just
happen to both be fruits. One must keep in mind that Dr. Koonce did not have access to synthesis of
any type, therefore, created sounds refers to modified sound effects in this case, rather than
synthesized sounds or sounds in the surroundings recorded by Dr. Koonce. When researching this
topic, I came across a quote from Dr. Koonce in the class slides:
"I am struck by its overriding quality of transition that circulates the ear past different
worlds of sound on little else than a thread of discovery."
I particularly wanted to ask Dr. Koonce about this thread of discovery. To me, it is something that
can be partially, but not fully described as discovering the similarities of the sounds and discovering
the sound events themselves. But I feel it cannot be fully described, only fully experienced.
Similarly, a person can read about, for example, a country, but not truly grasp its essence until they
visit the place. Because of this, I wanted to know what words Dr. Koonce would be able to use to
describe this thread of discovery. His answer seemed to indicate that each listener was to have
their own experience and for this reason, he could not give a definitive answer. The piece
challenges hearing and remembering and we all perceive sounds a bit differently due to physical
reasons and due to our experiences, therefore, Dr. Koonce concludes that he cannot say exactly how
others are struck by the piece. Recorded music, therefore, objectively always contains the same
content, but gets interpreted subjectively by its listeners. Dr. Koonce does, however, say that his
electro-acoustic compositions add on to his palette of everyday sounds and can enrich the way that
he hears the sounds around him. His deep, intuitive understanding of sounds allows him to find
previously unseen relationships between sounds where each informs and expands the concept of
the other (Koonce). This is a fascinating result of electro-acoustic composition that it become
more than just a hobby, but a source of learning and way of listening that gets carried outside of the
listening environment of a prepared piece. This supports the claim that electro-acoustic listening and
composition can contribute to the musicianship of an artist or composer of any genre.
In conclusion, we can learn that limitations are something which, paradoxically, can really
make ourselves more expressive by giving us a framework to work within. For example, one is not
truly free to play a piano if he has never learned anything about it, nor touched one before. But, by
learning the rules about the placement of hands, posture, tempo, key signature, notation, etc. he
then becomes free to play the piano and express himself. And, at a certain point, he is even able to
break some of the rules, much like the Futurists did, and blaze his own trail towards true expression
of himself. Similarly, Dr. Koonce created his framework of rules, partially out of necessity, which led
to improvisation, mini-narratives, and surreal, ear catching sounds.

Email Interview with Dr. Paul Koonce
1. While listening to Hothouse, I found that it's fast paced nature tended to help me listen with the
"reduced mode of listening" where there is a focus on spectral phenomena, possibly because there is
less time to think, "Where did that sound come from?" Do you agree with this, and if so, was this
your intention when you composed it?
When you say "that sound," I am not quite sure what "sound" you are referring to. I suppose you
mean the "fast paced" quality of the sound.
If you are asking whether I agree with your idea that the speed and diversity of sounds in the work
inclines people to hear it, not semiotically, but, rather, in some more general, spectral way, then I
would say, I don't know, mostly because I can't speak for others.
I made the work by thinking strongly about how sounds represent things, and how combinations of
sounds could be designed to create scenic tableau or mini-narratives that were striking as a result of
the speed and nature of their changes--many of the changes are designed to have a surreal aspect to
them. Whether other people hear the changes that way or not is something I can't speak to, as our
experience of sound--and our memory of it and what it associates with--is highly personal. When we
hear a sound (any sound), we are always hearing it, or attempting to hear it, as connected to
something physical, be the connection correct or not. To propose that, for all listeners, sounds are
heard in a "reduced listening mode" as a result of speed, or something, is making a judgment about
the scope and ability of listeners to hear--I don't think one person can make that judgment.
"Reduced listening" (which I might ask you to define for the sake of your question) is just one
additional analytical way of listening; it's like listening to the harmonic progressions in an Bach organ
prelude, the act of which does not preclude one from also hearing the organ, or someone playing an
organ, etc. Listening to only the harmonies would not only be lazy, but really impossible to do.
Reduced listening is, for me, pretty much the same thing--i.e. it is a selected way of listening that
does not preclude or, by default, omit other hearings.

2. Could you describe any techniques you used in the piece, especially regarding the "baby cry" that
gets used several times?
In using the baby sound, I first applied playback rate changes so as to iron out the pitch changes,
reducing the sound to a kind of baby recitation on one unchanging pitch, which, of course, babies
never do. I then applied different degrees of time expansion so as to slow down and open up the
baby's quick changes in timbre. Following that, I used the sound in several contexts. In one, I cross-
faded the sound with an oboe playing the same pitch and then reintroduced glissando-like pitch
trajectories to the mix that could suggest, perhaps, not only the original baby, but also some kind of
Middle Eastern double-reed instrument. In another place, I simply transposed the incantatory baby
sound down an octave and adjusted its spectrum, away from the cow-like result, back toward a more
human (male) character so as to produce a kind of moaning, crying man.
Many sounds in Hothouse come about through a process like the one above, as my intention was to
create types of sound simile or substitutes. My fundamental desire in doing this was to make sounds
that suggested certain constructed origins or hearings that, by design, were at odds with the actual
origins of the sounds used; in effect, surreal sounds, where the suggested hearing was at odds with
the actual sounds. Interestingly, working this way was supported, if not instigated, by the fact that I
did not have the sounds that I needed, or imagined needing, relative to whatever sound tableau I
was putting together. I was working exclusively with sound effect CDs (and did not own a
microphone), so often times I was grappling with the problem of how to make one sound into
another, like a piano into a sitar, etc., which I found to be interesting for its technical challenge.

3. When you composed, did you take a very chronological approach or did you start with a layer
or two of sounds and then use that as a starting point to add on more layers to?
I composed the piece on my first desktop computer: the Nextstation created by NeXT back in the
early 90's. While expensive (around $5000 in 1990), the Nextstation offered none of what we have
today. Not only was it slow (25mhz CPU), but the enclosed disk space was limited (about 200mb) and
there were no multi-channel mixing applications. All we had for many years were little mixing
applications that allowed one to mix one stereo recording with another, with appropriate line-
segment envelope changes applied to both. So, given these constraints, I was forced to work in a
through-composed manner (i.e. from beginning to end), in which I slowly concatenated together
short segments of sound, each of which was constructed by progressively layering sounds, one at a
time, into a developing, accreted mix.

4. Did you have a great vision of what you wanted the piece to sound like before you starting
composing it, or just some initial ideas that you expanded on?
There were some classes of recurring sounds, like snare drum riffs, etc., that I generated at one time,
and which I used to guide a quasi ritornello approach to the form. But, otherwise, I did not have any
kind of predefined vision of the work other than the requirement that I not repeat sounds or revisit
scenes, which I remember finding to be a new and very interesting way for me to work. Interestingly,
my usual approach to composing, which used various preparatory processes to the generation of
useful materials, was mostly irrelevant, as the choice to "not repeat" made the construction of every
sound a new problem, a situation that I found myself celebrating--i.e. how can the next thing be
different.
Interestingly, the consequence of this approach, at least from my perspective, was that I intuitively
gravitated toward a kind of reenactment of my baseline expressive behaviors in each new successive
context, making, in effect, my musical, gestural psyche into a kind of theme that was reformed (in an
improvisatorial way) by the challenge of each new segment. The effect is that the piece is forever
going to different places while always finding me in them.

5. I have a part of a quote here from you that says, "I am struck by its overriding quality of transition
that circulates the ear past different worlds of sound on little else than a thread of discovery." Is it
possible to explain exactly what the listener is discovering or does the music speak for itself? Is it the
similarities between the sounds presented that is discovered?
I don't know. Please notice that my sentence says "I am struck . . "; I don't know how others are
"struck" by the piece, which is always an interesting question. It is often the question I ask listeners
after presenting this piece--i.e. what do you remember--as the variety of sounds and places offered
by the work challenges hearing and remembering.

6. For approximately how long did you work on this piece?
About seven months.

7. Do you think this kind of music is underappreciated, and if so, why that might be?
I have no expectations regarding the appreciation of my music or "this kind of music"; expectations
of that sort only lead to disappointment and bitterness. Best to expect nothing at all and be
pleasantly surprised when listeners appear.

8. I read another quote which says that you are driven by the search for sound presence and ear
catching sound events. I think that "ear catching" is a very good description for Hothouse. Do you
find more satisfaction in everyday sounds or in your compositions, where you can create your own
sound events?
I am disinclined to make a value judgment or personal choice regarding degrees of "satisfaction"
between things that are effectively apples and oranges--things that are related only as a
consequence of being fruit.
The most I could say, perhaps, is that the process of composing electro-acoustic sound is interesting
to me because it adds to my "everyday" sound world while enriching the way I might hear the sounds
of that world; each informs and expands the concept of the other, as new relations of sound are
discovered and invented.