Introduction: Exposing the Processes of Interpretation in Electronic Music

The foundation of my current work lies in my doctoral thesis,Footnote ¹ in which I investigated the craft of the electronic music practitioner as someone who simultaneously inhabits the roles of composer, instrument builder and performer. The thesis was driven by the need to articulate a framework for understanding performance practice in electronic music, a field that, unlike traditional instrumental music, lacks established conventions and tools. Electronic music practitioners frequently find themselves in a position where they must constantly negotiate between creating new sounds, designing the tools to produce those sounds and performing with those tools in a live setting.

In my research, I attempted to compartmentalise these roles, examining what would happen if one focused exclusively on composition, instrument building or performance. This approach, however, led to the realisation that such a separation is not only artificial but also counterproductive. Unlike in traditional instrumental musical practice, where the roles of composer, instrument maker and performer are frequently distinct, electronic music necessitates a fluid and integrated approach. The very act of creating and performing electronic music typically involves composing new pieces, building or modifying instruments and performing all at once, making it impossible to truly separate these activities. This insight led me to focus on the interconnectedness of these roles. I recognised that the creative process in electronic music is inherently holistic, with each role informing and influencing the others. This became the basis for my subsequent exploration of interpretation in electronic music, where the boundaries between composition, performance and technology are continually blurred.

Three Approaches to Interpretation: Gloss, Simulation and Analogy

Building on the insights gained from my doctoral research, I developed three distinct approaches to the interpretation of electronic music. These approaches – gloss, simulation and analogy – represent different ways of engaging with existing works, each emphasising a different aspect of the electronic music practitioner’s role.Footnote ²

Interpretation as Gloss

The gloss approach is rooted in the idea of interpretation as a form of commentary or elaboration on an existing work. In this context, gloss refers to the process of engaging with a piece by identifying its core creative elements and using them to inspire new artistic directions. This approach is deeply connected to the compositional aspect of electronic music practice, where the interpreter acts as a composer, creating new material that resonates with the original work. I consider this process as one of ‘owning’ the work: the interpreter not only presents the original piece but also infuses it with their creative vision. This could involve reimagining certain sections, introducing new elements, or even using the piece as a springboard for an entirely new composition. This approach acknowledges the interpretative creativity necessary to bring electronic music to life, particularly in works where the original intent might be open-ended or ambiguous.

Interpretation as Simulation

Simulation, in this context, is the process of recreating the technological environment necessary to perform a piece of electronic music. This is particularly relevant for works that rely on specific, often outdated, technologies. The challenge here is not only to replicate the sound of the original but also to capture the experience and performative resistance that these technologies impart. I would like to emphasise the importance of maintaining the ‘friction’ that these older technologies introduce into the performance. For instance, early tape machines or analogue synthesisers required a level of manual intervention and adjustment that influenced the performer’s interaction with the music. In updating these set-ups, I argue against simplifying the technology to the point where ‘friction’ is lost. Instead, I advocate preserving or even simulating the original resistance, ensuring that the performance retains its challenging, tactile quality. This approach highlights the performative aspect of electronic music practice, in which the tools themselves shape the interpretation.

Interpretation as Analogy

The analogy approach involves translating the interpretative challenges of traditional instrumental music into the electronic domain. This focuses on the performative skills required to bring a piece to life and adapting these skills to the unique demands of electronic instruments.

As an illustration, I would cite my adaptation of Morton Feldman’s The King of Denmark. Originally written for percussion, the piece presents performance challenges in its use of extremely soft dynamics and delicate articulation. I reinterpreted this piece using a digital drum pad controller, where the mapping programmed for the pads varied continuously both in sensitivity and orientation (push/release) to replicate the original’s fragility and dynamic subtleties. This adaptation not only preserved the performative challenges of Feldman’s work but also introduced new possibilities unique to the digital medium, such as the possibility of sounds being triggered when releasing a pad, rather than when pressing it. Through this process, I aimed to demonstrate how electronic music practice can engage with and reinterpret traditional music.

Case Studies: Practical Applications of Interpretation Approaches

These theoretical approaches to interpretation are not just abstract ideas: they are actively applied and tested in my performance practice. Through various case studies I have used approaches to engage with and reinterpret existing works, offering new insights and creative possibilities; these include:

Luigi Nono, A Pierre Footnote ³

This challenging work requires two instrumentalists to navigate a complex network of delay and reverb effects, creating a dense, immersive sound environment. The technical set-up of the piece, with its intricate interplay of sound and technology, poses significant challenges for performers, demanding that they constantly adjust and respond to the evolving soundscape.

Inspired by the performative challenges of A Pierre, I developed my composition, Multiple Paths, which explores similar themes of composed confusion and technological interaction. In Multiple Paths the performers’ attempts to produce sound are intentionally entangled with the electronic system, blurring the line between human and machine. This project showcases interpretation as ‘gloss’, where the interpretation becomes a new work that dialogues with the original, using modern technology and creative choices to explore its themes.

Karlheinz Stockhausen, Solo

Solo is a landmark piece in the history of live electronic music that makes innovative use of tape delay to create a complex, layered soundscape. The performer plays a melody while their sound is recorded and played back at varying speeds and times, creating a rich, evolving texture. My interpretation of Solo updated this set-up, using modern telematic technology that allows musicians in different locations to contribute to the performance in real time (see Figure 1). This not only expanded the sonic possibilities of the piece but also addressed one of the original work’s limitations: its relatively sparse timbral density. By enabling multiple performers to interact with the delay system simultaneously, my version of Solo created a more immersive and complex sonic environment. This exemplifies interpretation as ‘simulation’, using modern technology to recreate and expand the original work’s technological framework.Footnote ⁴

Figure 1: Performance of Karlheinz Stockhausen, Solo(s), 21 November 2019, Concertgebouw Brugge, Belgium: Karin de Fleyt (flute), Brice Soniano (networked double bass), Juan Parra Cancino (electronics) (Photo: Daphne Ronse).

Bruno Maderna, Hyperion

This ambitious work combines live instruments, voice and electronic sounds, creating a dramatic, multi-layered piece. It was originally conceived for a solo flute, soprano, orchestra and choir, with the electronic elements providing an additional layer of texture and complexity.

In collaboration with the Italian theatre group Muta Imago and the Belgian Hermes Ensemble, I was tasked with creating a new version of the orchestral part using electronic sounds. Drawing on Maderna’s original tape loops, I extended the vocal and flute parts and replaced the orchestral parts with an electronic soundscape. The final output was released on vinyl. The mastering process was deliberately designed to highlight the extreme dynamic range, leaving certain passages nearly inaudible. Over time, the surface noise of the vinyl will overpower the music, symbolising the theme of disintegration central to Hyperion. This exemplifies interpretation as ‘analogy’, where the interpretative challenges of existing works are translated into a new context, creating a dialogue between past and present performance practices.Footnote ⁵

Opaque Technologies: Embracing Technological Resistance and Creative Friction

The concept of opaque technologies is central to my work. In contrast to the ideal of transparent technology, where tools are designed to be as unobtrusive as possible, opaque technologies introduce a level of resistance and challenge to the creative process. This resistance is not a hindrance but a crucial element of creativity in electronic music because opaque technologies force the practitioner to engage more deeply with their tools, leading to unexpected discoveries and new creative directions. For example, during the COVID-19 pandemic, I explored the limitations of telematic performance in a project called ‘Artifacts of Not-Here’.Footnote ⁶ By deliberately manipulating internet latency and feeding the resulting glitches back into the performance, I created a dynamic and unpredictable environment that embraced the imperfections of the technology. This approach highlights the potential of opaque technologies to generate new artistic possibilities by introducing friction into the creative process.

Critical Technical Practice: Revealing the Hidden Processes Behind the Music

A second important constant in my work is the notion of Critical Technical Practice (CTP), developed by philosopher Philip Agre in the context of machine learning.Footnote ⁷ Agre’s CTP focuses on exposing the often-hidden processes within technological systems, challenging the idea that technology should be a ‘black box’ that operates seamlessly and invisibly. Instead, Agre advocates a more transparent approach, where the underlying mechanisms of technology are made visible and subject to scrutiny and, in my work, I apply this concept by emphasising the importance of revealing the messy, non-linear processes that underlie creative practice in electronic music. I would argue that the potential for new knowledge and artistic innovation lies not in the polished final product, but in the process itself. By opening up the black box of technology and exposing its inner workings, practitioners can gain a better understanding of the tools they use and the creative possibilities they offer. This aligns with my broader philosophy of embracing opacity and resistance in technology, which views these challenges as opportunities for exploration and discovery.

Vintage Materiality: The Relationship Between Artists and Their Tools

Vintage materiality is a third concept framing these experimental interpretations and reflects my fascination with the historical and material aspects of the tools used in early electronic music. I consider the relationship between an artist and their tools to be deeply influenced by the age, availability and condition of these tools, as well as by the effort required to maintain and use them. Vintage materiality transcends the initial attractor of nostalgia; instead it acts as an invitation to acquire a deeper understanding of the materials that we use. It informs the critical reflection of the choices we make to reproduce certain mechanisms and actions and the opportunities that reflection brings. In this context I focus on early electronic music, immersing myself in this repertoire to make performative versions of early fixed pieces.

I choose to approach this repertoire in this way because it was created before the ubiquitous distancing of concept from musical output. Many early tape pieces were produced before control voltage or any kind of automatisation was implemented. One can hear the performative actions of someone exploring, ‘turning the knobs’ to repurpose technology that was not originally intended for musical use. Composers were not just using the technology available to them; they were actively shaping and redefining it to suit their artistic needs. For example, the Brüel & Kjaer 2113 bandpass filter (see Figure 2), created to measure the vibrations of buildings and other large structures, was not variable. It had predetermined filter frequencies that could be reset in intervals of an octave or a third of an octave.Footnote ⁸ This feature became ‘magical’: the limitation of the tool could be, and was, infused with musical meaning. It was used so often that it became part of the foundation of the aesthetics of this repertoire; and, if it is in the foundation, everything else is built upon it.

Figure 2: The Brüel & Kjaer bandpass filter.

I seek to revive this hands-on, experimental approach in a concert setting, exploring the performative possibilities that arise from engaging with vintage tools. I am particularly interested in their creative potential, not just as historical artefacts but as active participants in the performance. By working with vintage technologies, I aim to uncover new sonic possibilities and explore the unique challenges these tools present, thereby continuing the tradition of innovation and experimentation that characterises early electronic music.

Éliane Radigue: Focusing on the Residual and Non-linear Elements

The work of Éliane Radigue, particularly her piece Usral (1969), serves as a focal point for a creative exploration of the concepts discussed in this text. Radigue’s approach to music emerged from her work as a technician for Pierre Schaeffer and is marked by a deep engagement with the residual elements of the technical process. Rather than focusing on the polished final product, Radigue was inspired by the leftover pieces of tape on the studio floor – the ‘debris’ of the creative process – and used these elements to create her unique sound world.

Radigue’s early feedback pieces, originally conceived as ambient sound environments for art exhibitions, challenge conventional notions of musical form and structure. These works are not linear compositions but rather evolving soundscapes that invite listeners to engage with them in a more spatial and immersive way. This approach resonates with my interest in non-linear, opaque and resistant technologies, as well as my focus on the process rather than the product.

In my interpretation of Usral, I seek to capture the essence of Radigue’s approach, emphasising the importance of the residual and non-linear elements in her work.

To contextualise this project, I will draw parallels between Radigue’s feedback pieces and other non-linear, spatial works of the time, such as Iannis Xenakis’ Concrete PH and György Ligeti’s Artikulation. Concrete PH was part of the multimedia installation inside the Philips Pavilion at the 1958 Brussels Expo, a building on which Xenakis also worked as a member of Le Corbusier’s studio. The main musical feature of the installation was Edgard Varèse’s Poéme Electronique, and Concrete PH was used as an intermezzo between each playback of Varèse’s work. Concrete PH does not have the traditional sonic juxtaposition of tape, but instead deals with the relationship between structure and sound material in a novel way, the temporal development of its textures taking place in the acoustic space of the pavilion with its array of 128 loudspeakers.

A second antecedent for my exploration of Usral is György Ligeti’s Artikulation, one of the very few electronic pieces that Ligeti completed, because, for him, there was a disconnection between the affordances of early electronic sound production and the micro-variations that he felt he could better explore in instrumental music.Footnote ⁹ In 1970, graphic designer Rainer Wehinger created what he called a ‘listening score’ for Artikulation.Footnote ¹⁰ This was welcomed by Ligeti, who saw it as a visualisation that would help audiences follow and engage with his music. Both works challenge the listener to engage with the music more actively and spatially, highlighting the importance of visual and spatial awareness in the interpretation and performance of electronic music, and both provided the antecedents I used as paths of access into the world of Éliane Radigue.

Developing Usral as a Live Performance

How, then, to make a live rendition of a tape-loop piece that was originally an installation and does not have a standard structural sequence or dramaturgy? My role required me to act as a catalyst of elements that involved more than just what was available to us as ‘the work’, especially as the version of Usral that is commercially available today is an edited selection of the original material realised by French composer, sound artist and Radigue collaborator Emmanuel Holterbach.Footnote ¹¹ I consider his curatorial work to be an interpretation of the work, and with that in mind, I decided to encapsulate more elements of Éliane Radigue’s creativity and artistic output into my experimental performance.

The first step was to understand Radigue’s creative timeline; how she went from working with tape loops and feedback to using the ARP 2500 modular synthesiser as her main instrument for many years. Subsequently, she developed a methodology for working with soloists and, later, with ensembles.Footnote ¹² The more I read and, more importantly, the more I listened to the music of these instrumental works, the more I noticed a consistency in her soundworld. Retrospectively, it is possible to recognise many of the sonorities that Radigue favours as she guides the creation of a new work with an instrumentalist, sonorities informed by her performance practice with the ARP 2500 and her feedback pieces.Footnote ¹³

I started by dissecting the different voices within Usral, using pitch analysis, transient analysis and separation of timbres to enable me to make a graphic score. My initial sonic motivation was to transfer the notion of feedback into the soundworld of the ARP 2500, but for this I needed to understand how possible it was to create feedback on this instrument, and I worked with composer and studio technician Hans Kulk, from the Willem Twee Studios in Den Bosch, the Netherlands, to better understand the possibilities and limits of the original instrument (see Figure 3). Because I would not have access to Radigue’s original set-up, I also needed to check how many of its functions were translated into the modules that copy the functionality of the ARP 2500 within the Eurorack modular environment.Footnote ¹⁴

Figure 3: The Author and Hans Kulk at the ARP 2500 (Willem Twee Studios, Den Bosch).

Testing the graphic score on the original ARP instrument brought the first point of epiphany. My analysis had revealed that the score had different voices, with specific reference pitches along the timeline, and my original intention was to use a keyboard to retune the oscillators; but, as Hans Kulk pointed out to me in May 2023, ‘We have a keyboard here [for the ARP 2500], but we never use it. Éliane didn’t use it, so why should you use it?’ His observation led me to reconsider what the most salient aspects of Radigue’s original work were, what was constant and available in her later works and how this could be transferred to my performance. The acoustic pieces, the electronic pieces and the feedback pieces share a sonic artefact: the beating of two sounds near one another as they move closer and further apart from a point of consonance, producing sustained masses of sound with a variable inner structure. The ability to control the rate and duration of those beatings is the musical challenge posed for an attentive performer: paying attention to when the beatings appear, how to harness and prolong them, and the subsequent gradual shifting until another beating appears.

Knowing the limitations of this set-up, I sought ways to generate at least three voices at different octaves to make a version of the piece that sounded like the original. A series of technical questions arose. Using two oscillators and one filter, can the filter of the ARP 2500 self-oscillate, and can it be tuned dynamically? To what extent can it enter into a feedback loop? Changing the frequency of the filter can affect the frequency of the oscillators as well. The next point of exploration was to identify what other options there were to control voices either in parallel or independently. A very important addition to the system was the use of the ring modulator. The ring modulator of the ARP 2500 (and, fortunately, its Eurorack implementation) is unique because it does not eliminate the incoming modulated frequency. Traditionally, in a ring modulator, two signals, a carrier and a modulator are multiplied, giving as sounding output the sum and difference between both frequencies. Usually the incoming carrier and modulator signals are not present in the output, but in the ring modulator of the ARP 2500, the carrier signal is still audible and, with patience, one can generate three-part chords in the output. In terms of performativity, this ring modulator is also unusual in having both ‘ratio’ and ‘tune’ control knobs, enabling one to change the frequency of two oscillators simultaneously, so that they are ‘transposed’ rather than detuned. With the ratio knob the modulator frequency remains fixed while the carrier is being transposed, so that one can either sustain a pedal, and change one tone, or transpose the entire sound.

There were other aspects borrowed from Radigue’s instrumental works that I wanted to incorporate into my performance: it had to be soft, it had to be attentive, it had to invite attention; it should favour sustained sound tones; it should be possible to mask strong transient attacks.

With these considerations in mind, I created the version of Usral that I have been presenting since then. By creating a visual map, derived from the analysis of Radigue’s tapes, I devised an object that could be used as a score. Knowing Radigue’s work in the ARP 2500, this score served as an opening into the inner structure of Usral and allowed me to convey the sonorities of her later electronic works. By incorporating performance considerations derived from her instrumental pieces, I also hope to convey that aspect of her musical world.

Conclusion: A Time-Travel Experiment in Performance

My performance of Éliane Radigue’s Usral is not just a recreation of past work: it is an exploration of the possibilities inherent in the interaction between vintage and modern technologies. By embracing the challenges and resistances posed by these technologies, I aim to create a live performance that is a tribute to Radigue’s pioneering work. At the same time I want this performance to serve as a dynamic, evolving exploration of the creative possibilities offered by electronic music. This performance, and my work in general, can be seen as a form of ‘time travel’, bridging between the past and the present by re-engaging with the tools, methods and ideas of early electronic music in a contemporary context. By doing so I aim to honour the legacy of composers such as Éliane Radigue and to push the boundaries of electronic music, inviting new interpretations and new ways of engaging with the music.