Composition Analysis: Agnosthesia by Michael Calamas
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Written by Michael J. Calamas
My piece Agnosthesia is primarily known as a percussion quintet with electronics, however this is not the original version of the composition. This piece was originally written as a baritone-saxophone solo with electronics — a commission by Dr. Andrew Hutchens.
While that version is still very special to me, in the process of writing it I found that I was becoming more and more attached to some of the electronic components of the piece, and the seed was planted that I might orchestrate it out for a percussion ensemble.
This percussion ensemble version of the piece was premiered by the Wildlight Collective at their Radford performance in the spring of 2024, and since then has been performed by leading collegiate percussion ensembles across the U.S. such as the University of South Carolina and the Eastman School of Music.
This AEIOUy analysis walks through the composition in order of: argument, experience, influence, objects, unfolding, and synthesis. I hope that this writing may give some more insight into the composition and that it may serve as extended program notes for the music.
Argument
I should start by talking about the title. I always write the music before I find a name for it — I find that by starting with a musical idea rather than a word or sentence, I’m able to compose more freely. The composition becomes a process of discovery; I usually start to understand what the music is about when I get half-way through. It is a very introspective process for me, and therefore I try not to limit myself by giving the work a title before notes are printed. After the work is finished or mostly finished, I have a good idea internally what the piece is about, and then I go on a scavenger hunt to find a title that most closely conveys the more complex idea of the music.
There’s a website called the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. Their website states the following:
“The word sadness originally meant fullness," to be filled to the brim with some intensity of experience. It's not about despair, or distraction, or controlling how you're supposed to feel, it's about awareness. Setting the focus to infinity and taking it all in, joy and grief all at once; feeling the world as it is, the word as it could be. The unknown and the unknowable, closeness and distance and trust, and the passage of time. And all the others around you who are each going through the same thing.The Romans called it lacrimae rerum, the "tears of things." We call them obscure sorrows.”
I found the word Agnosthesia here, and found that this was a very close match to what I feel the composition is trying to convey. The word Agnosthesia is defined as:
n. the state of not knowing how you really feel about something, which forces you to sift through clues hidden in your own behavior, as if you were some other person—noticing a twist of acid in your voice, an obscene amount of effort you put into something trifling, or an inexplicable weight on your shoulders that makes it difficult to get out of bed.
Ancient Greek ἄγνωστος (ágnōstos), not knowing + διάθεσις (diáthesis), condition, mood. Pronounced “ag-nos-thee-zhuh.”
The composition features a percussion ensemble and an electronic track, and over the course of the work there are a multitude of contrasting timbres, section to section. Each section of music, each juxtaposition between dark and light, pretty and aggressive, is that act of sifting through those hidden clues.
Experience
Similar to my other works for electro-acoustic ensembles, the electronics are not meant to be heard as a distinct object to the ensemble. When performed with high levels of vertical alignment, the listener should hear a new emerging sound world. The musical material is centered on an augmented chord, a type of chord that is inherently unstable and is able to move in several directions for the tension/release cycle. For the listener, the melodic and harmonic material feels ungrounded for just long enough before grounding is finally found.
Influence
As I mentioned before, the work was originally written for a saxophone soloist. Because of this, the composition was highly influenced by the physical limitations of the saxophone with specific regard to range and dynamic. The accompanying electronics were of course not placed under the same limits, they could do whatever the computer would allow me to do. Because of the high levels of juxtaposition in timbre / color / mood throughout each section, the piece becomes highly visual in ones mind. I have always been extremely interested in film scores, and would have to say that this composition has been influenced by some of my favorite film composers. To name a few of my favorite scores — Avatar scored by James Horner, Star Wars of course scored by John Williams, The Chronicles of Narnia scored by Henry Gregson-Williams, The Crown scored by Rupert Gregson-Williams, and last but absolutely not least, Interstellar scored by Hans Zimmer.
Objects
Instrumentation wise, the vibraphones and marimba consistently are featured with the melodic lines. As far as musical objects go, the piece is built on an augmented chord. Specially, I use notes C#, F, and A. With the accompaniment, this manifests itself as a sort of minor major 7th chord with the notes F and A being stable and C# sounding unstable.
The piece is largely written in 3/4, with some interjections of 5/8 and 6/8. Towards the end of the piece, the meter changes between 8/4 and 6/4 some as things come to and end and musical phrases are more grounded.
Unfolding
The work begins with the introduction of the augmented chord, on top of low octave D's the marimba, giving the piece that minor major 7th chord sound. The marimba later joins the vibraphone on the augmented chord, extending it some into the upper range of the keyboard. Tension builds with drums to the first impact point — still augmented and unstable, but with a moving harmonic progression. For a while, we sit in this harmonic space and allow the textures to develop between the electronics and acoustic ensembles. Importantly, we have to wait a considerable amount of time before finally reaching a tonic chord moment. That moment doesn’t happen until a minute and a half in, and even then, it’s in the upper register of the instruments and so the feeling of tension / release is more reserved and is highly short lived as the augmented chord theme returns.
The piece continues to sift through different moods, colors, timbres, feelings. There’s a very delicate and sweet moment at minute 1:56, immediately followed by a much darker, sludgy sounding section with the augmented chord being transposed through multiple different keys in that act of searching for answers.
The weight lifts for a little while after, and then as we approach the climax of the compositions, we go through a 6/8 section of building tension alongside a cathedral organ sound. Finally we reach the peak of the composition and the ensemble lets out all their energy into what I think of as a big jam session. This section goes through two phrases and is followed by some more inquisitive material, as if telling the listener “you though you found the answer but what if you’re wrong?”
Following this, the ensemble settles some and enters an expansive section of 8/4 and 6/4 measures featuring two distinct layers.
- The foreground layer is a series of chords at either quarter or half note length
- The background layer is a conversation between the marimba and vibraphone 2 part where triplets are being passed back and forth to create a harmonic tapestry.
This section provides the most grounding with harmonic resolution, but this resolution is not permanent. The final few bars bring back the question of the unknown with the marimba and vibe 2 parts re-introducing the augmented chord.
Synthesize
In summary, Agnosthesia is an electro-acoustic work that uses contrasting timbres and a deliberately unstable harmonic center to mirror the process implied by its title: noticing evidence, testing assumptions, and re-evaluating emotional certainty. The piece’s core augmented-sonority language, frequent shifts in texture, and gradual arrival at more grounded harmonic moments support that narrative without relying on a single fixed “answer.” The original saxophone-and-electronics conception also shaped the final percussion-quintet version, especially in the way acoustic physicality is set against the electronics’ broader range of color and sustain.
One thing I'm curious to hear from my fellow composers; When do you name your piece? Does it come before putting notes on the page or after? What type of effect do you find this has on your process? Let me know what your experience is in the comments!