Composition Analysis: Nhiyr by Michael Calamas

Written by Michael J. Calamas

Nhiyr was composed back in 2019 during my undergraduate degree at the University of South Carolina. It was my first “serious” attempt at composing for percussion, and to this day has served as a foundation for my newer works.

In this post, I’m going to provide an analysis on the work using the AEIOUy method that I learned from one of my music theory professors in graduate school, Dr. David Kirkland Garner.

The AEIOUy method walks through the piece in the following order: argument, experience, influence, objects, unfolding, and synthesis. I hope that through this article I can provide some insight into the composition, perhaps as extended program notes for those who are interested.

Argument

The argument for this piece, or otherwise the “why” this piece exists, has to do with the method by which it was composed. Early in undergrad I bought the apple creative bundle which included Logic Pro X. I immediately became obsessed with the software and I got a lot of amusement out of layering a bunch of different sounds to create unique new timbres. It was through this exploration that I started developing a “tool kit” of sorts that I would later use in some more serious composition projects.

For Nhiyr, I was fascinated by a few different layered timbres.

1. Low marimba notes paired with low piano octaves. I enjoyed the way the piano’s resonance was able to extend the decay of the marimba bar, morphing the envelope.
2. Vibraphone and the “backwards bowed piano” sound. Specifically, I used a technique where I anticipated the vibraphone notes with the reversed piano sound. The piano sound seems to “activate” the vibraphone if the vertical alignment is good, and the metallic piano string / metallic vibraphone timbres work very well together.
3. Mid range marimba notes paired with log drums. There is a repeated ostinato in the right hand of the marimba part throughout the piece. The log drums double the general pattern of the marimba part, but because of their “unpitched” nature, the combination of the two instruments creates a fascinating timbre, one that is more percussive than melodic when it’s timed well.

Experience

For the audience, this piece is tonal and groovy, despite it’s odd meter and non-diatonic melodic material. With proper balance, the listener does not necessarily perceive two players being accompanied by an electronic track, but rather a new unified “sound world.” The listener goes on a journey from high energy to low energy and back to high as the overarching structure. Various listeners that I’ve had the privilege of talking to have told me they experience visuals in their head of a desert, some of the ocean, and some of the deep woods. Personally, I envision this piece as being different layers of the ocean. The beginning is the twinkling of the surface of the water as the sun hits it, the middle goes underwater, and the end is the waves crashing. There is no correct answer though.

Influence

One of the biggest influences in how this piece took form was simply the tool kit I developed from experimenting with layers and MIDI sounds. Once I heard an interesting layered timbre, I could sort of hear in my head how those new sound objects might unfold in a composition, whether that was a melody or harmony or texture.

Some of the composers that heavily influence me as a performer, and thus also as a composer, are John Psathas, Alejandro Viñao, and Danny Elfman. I find their use of layered textures to be highly intriguing, and I aspire to develop my own sound the way they have.

Objects

The primary objects of the composition are of course the marimba, vibraphone, and electronics. If the sextet is being performed, we take way the electronics and add an acoustic piano, another vibraphone, and lots of auxiliary percussion.

The meter of the piece is 11/8. Sometimes this is actually felt as 11/8, sometimes it’s felt as 11/4 because of two bar phrasing, and sometimes it’s felt as 4/4 due to the over-the-bar-line anvil part.

Unfolding

While the piece is in a very strange time signature, the piece still has a groove to it. The groove is established in a few different ways. First, the repeated figures in the right hand of the marimba can act as an anchor. After a few repetitions, it’s almost enough to bob your head to.

This odd meter continues throughout the piece, but the groove is slightly disturbed a few times by the introduction of an “anvil” sound. This sound is specifically placed to go over the bar line every 4 beats in a big mixed meter half-time groove. The vibraphone and marimba players still play the same odd metered music and have to ignore the anvil as not to get confused or lost, but from the audience perspective, the piece may as well be in 4/4.

The middle of the piece is what I think of as the “underwater” section. The composition becomes much less active from a density perspective and the dynamic shifts down. The vibraphone and marimba pass material back and forth before combining to a peak within this section. This section dies out and begins “dovetailing” with the original thematic material at the beginning of the piece. This builds intensity until the composition reaches it’s climax. The anvil returns, the layers increase in density and dynamic, and the keyboard players play with a ton of energy in this final chorus.

The piece ends with a return to the early thematic material, unraveling the energy until it dissipates to nothing. The piece ends with that final combination of reversed piano and vibraphone.

Synthesize

Ultimately, the thread that connects the argument, experience, influences, and objects of Nhiyr is the idea that electronics are not a backdrop, but a partner. All of the layered timbres I latched onto in Logic, the odd-meter grooves, and even the “underwater” shift in density are in service of blurring the line between what is played and what is produced. When the balance and alignment are right, the audience is not parsing “two percussionists” plus “a track.” They are hearing a single, unified sound world, one where the acoustic instruments borrow sustain, attack, and color from the electronics, and the electronics borrow gesture and breath from the performers. That unity is what makes the piece feel tonal and groovy in spite of its quirks, and it is why the music can suggest so many different internal images while still feeling like one coherent journey.

Let me know what you think of compositions like Nhiyr. Is the blending of acoustic and electronic music a considerable part of the future of percussion performance? Will we start to see more digital music in the percussion space through the use of mallet stations and trigger drums? Tell us what your vision is.