Gamelan Corner: Accumulation

Have a look at this:

That's the score for a piece called "Accumulation" by the American composer Daniel Schmidt. But first let me step back. After I previously used the score of Lancaran Serayu as a way of explaining some basic Javanese gamelan concepts I started thinking about what other Gamelan things I could write about. The problem I had though was that a lot of the other concepts are somewhat bitty and not always ones I could talk about at length. So I put that idea to one side. But then in my gamelan class we started rehearsing "Accumulation" and I found myself thinking it would be an interesting piece to write about.

So first up, who is this Daniel Schmidt guy? As you might have gathered, he is not from Indonesia but is an American composer and academic with a longstanding influence in gamelan and an associate of Paul Dresher and Lou Harrison. Schmidt is also a builder of gamelan sets. I understand him to be an expert in Indonesian gamelan forms but he is also a leading figure in the American gamelan tradition, which involves writing new pieces for the instruments outside the structures of the Indonesian forms but still in some dialogue with them. "Accumulation" is one of Schmidt's pieces and our director acquired the score from him when he paid a recent visit to his California home.

So a recap. Javanese gamelan instruments have two scales, Slendro (which runs 1 to 6 with no 4, but also has a low 6 below the 1 and a high 1 above the 6) and Pelog (a seven note scale from 1 to 7). The above piece can be played in Pelog or Slendro (that's what the "(sl or pl)" means). We are playing this piece in Pelog but if we were playing it in Slendro we would substitute a high 1 for 7 whenever it appears.

The numbers show the balungan line of the piece: its skeleton, approximating to the main melody line in Western music. The full stops are rests, where you don't play anything on the beat. The little hats above the numbers indicate that the kenong (one of the metal pot instruments) also plays that note, while the little u indicates that a kempul (a set of small hanging gongs) also plays then. The O around the number tells us that the big gong plays on this note; I think the sideways bracket on the 6 at the end of line F is telling us that the secondary gong plays then, but don't quote me on that.

Now, why are the lines in this piece numbered from F to A? Actually I'm not sure, the order could have been reversed. But what I can tell you is that with "Accumulation" we start with line A at the bottom of the page. You might think that we play line A, then we play line B, then line C, and so on to F. If only it were so simple. What actually happens is we play line A four times. Then we play line B four times followed by line A once. Then we play line C four times, followed by line B once and line A once. And so on. I think the collection and repetition of lines is also where the accumulation comes from. Also some of the instruments don't come in on the first line of each set of four plays of a line, meaning the sound builds in complexity.

What is it like to play? Well it starts off easy as lines A and B have a nice steady beat. But things get a bit crazy on line C, as it starts with a rest but then you have to play 2 and 3 quickly, with 2 on an off-beat, and more off-beats and fast plays coming later in the line. After that each line has either rests or off-beats (or both), which make them fuckers to play. I think Schmidt might have called the piece "Accumulation" because the difficulty of playing it accumulates. We struggled with this in rehearsal but we did get better over time (you could say our skill levels accumulated). By the time our class played it live we had reached the stage of hitting the right notes most of the time, which for us is a result.

I should add that the score above only shows the main balungan line (and by extension when the gong, kempul and kenong play), but there are other instruments playing different things. In Javanese gamelan these would have to interpret their parts from the main score (a process known as garap), but for "Accumulation" Schmidt has provided a score for all of these. See image below for the full score. Note that as well as the main balungan line there are four other lines as well, for the bonangs (two separate sets of pots), the saron (normally part of the balungan set but in this case separated (the screenshot is from a saron player's copy of the score, which is why the saron line is highlighted)), and the peking (a small balungan-like instrument played with hammers rather than mallets).

If that description has got you curious as to what the piece sounds like, there is recording of it on Bandcamp here.

You can read more about Daniel Schmidt here.

And if you are now so gamelan-curious that you would like to give it a go yourself, click here.

The films of David Lynch: a definitive ranking

Earlier this year I found myself on panel at Eastercon looking back on the career of David Lynch. In preparation for this I rewatched some of his films and thought a lot about the others. Here is my attempt to rank the films from worst to best.

Inland Empire (2006)

Lynch's last film is one of the weird ones, but on a rewatch its weirdness is relatively straightforward: there is a film within a film and there are people re-enacting the same events perhaps as the real people on whom the film(s) are based. It's not without its moments (e.g. the dancing hookers, Laura Dern's Erich von Stroheim channelling butler, the rabbits, etc.) but it all added up to a big "So what?" for me. I think what particularly irked me was the way it looks: it comes from that strange time when it was considered acceptable to shoot feature films using low-quality digital video that makes everything look a bit shit. The whole look of the film served to remind me of how the cinematography in David Lynch films is usually so much better than it is here. Also the number of screen-filling close-ups of people's faces seemed a bit excessive. Plus it goes on a bit.

Wild at Heart (1990)

I remember loving this when it came out but on a re-watch it all seems a bit pointless and, worst of all, like a second rate Coen Brothers film. Some of the violence just seems gratuitous (which may reflect the source material) while the capricious introduction of plot points that are then forgotten is highly annoying. The film has a certain panache but it's not something I would encourage people to see, and it does not surprise me that it is generally ranked low in Lynch's filmography.

Dune (1984)

We're into films I actually like now. This film was a critical and commercial failure when originally released, but time has been kind to it. It looks great and it is fun seeing loads of David Lynch regulars in key roles. Plus it has the wonderful scenery chewing performance of Kenneth McMillan as the Baron Harkonnen (and yeah I get it, that portrayal is problematic in many ways). I was particularly stunned on a recent re-watch by an early scene in the Emperor's court, where his audience chamber is over-run by various officials, little dogs, and various functionaries, just like in a real imperial court. The film also gave us the key phrase "The spice must flow", which never occurs in the book.

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992)

In retrospect everyone loves the TV Twin Peaks but it's easy to forget how much the rambling and sub-par second series put people off the whole project. When this film came out people mostly reacted with a collective "not more Twin Peaks crap?"; critics sneered and audiences stayed away. But the film is dark and disturbing, one of the great horror films of the 1990s and it presages the surreal turn of Lynch's later pictures. I would probably rank this higher if it was a stand-alone work.

Eraserhead (1977)

Lynch's early low-budget classic starts as he means to go on with its industrial sound design and surreal touches. I would probably rank it higher if I could face ever seeing it again.

The Straight Story (1999)

I rewatched this recently after being disappointed by Inland Empire and Wild at Heart and was surprised by how much I liked its account of an old guy travelling hundreds of miles on a lawnmower to see his unwell estranged brother. It is genuinely moving but I think further contemplation is required on whether it is an aberration or a film that is thematically central to Lynch's oeuvre.

Lost Highway (1997)

This brought Lynch back to popular attention with its ambiguously linked stories of a jazz musician who starts receiving strange videos through the mail and whose wife might be having an affair, and a young mechanic having an affair with the wife of a terrifying mob boss. It's all very tense and unnerving, with the Mystery Man scene one of Lynch's greatest moments. The film also goes big on themes of sleazy voyeurism that are often a feature of Lynch's films, one that some might reasonably find problematic.

Mulholland Drive (2001)

It's another film with two ambiguously linked plots. And like Lost Highway and Inland Empire it moves proceedings from the older Lynch staple of small-town or rural America to Los Angeles. And it embraces the sleazy voyeurism (which not everyone would see as a good thing). While the relationship of the two plots is ambiguous (some might say otherwise), thematically the film progresses from its initial action-packed adventure to a world of increasingly oppressive darkness. One of the all-time great dark Hollywood films.

The Elephant Man (1980)

This will always have a special place in my heart as it was the last film I saw on the big screen before the cinemas closed for Covid. In some ways it is an outlier: like Dune it is not set in the United States, like The Straight Story it is based on real events. And while the David Lynch cliche is that his work is about showing the sinister darkness that lies underneath the shiny surface of happy life, this celebrates the human spirit and the goodness that people are capable of. But it still has its Lynchian elements. The voyeurism is here (the main character is after all someone people are invited to gawp at and in his first scene he is exhibited in the nip to medical students) but also the same kind of industrial sound design he has given us since Eraserhead. And while it never descends into outright surrealism it has its occasional strange flourishes. Overall though this is an astonishingly life-affirming film that would move even the most jaded of cynics.

Blue Velvet (1986)

You might call this entry-level David Lynch with its easily-understandable plot and neat exposition of his themes of voyeurism and the dark underbelly of everyday life, but it is the perfect summary of his work and obsessions. Also Heineken.

image sources:

David Lynch collage (The Movies that Made Me: "Remembering David Lynch")

Blue Velvet robin (Existentialism is a Film: "Blue Velvet (Lynch, 1986): society is a social construct, it’s all made of dreams, and we can’t stop the robin’s dancing")