Also, as part of the pitch, I included some songs from previous projects that showed some range in style, tone and orchestration.

When I went back to listen though, I realised that when producing the tracks I hadn’t recorded versions with guide vocals for the performers for one of the shows – Emergency Story Penguin. If I’m working with performers, say, for a theatrical production, and I can work directly with them in the rehearsal room, I can teach the songs face-to-face, so I’ll skip the process of recording myself to save time.

Although… I say it’s to save time, but if I’m being completely honest, it’s because I don’t like the sound of my own voice, either singing or speaking. 

So, when I say to save time, what I really mean is I chickened out. Even though it would save time in rehearsal if the performers had already heard the piece with the vocal guide track in place. Sometimes I can be a coward when it comes to having to listen to a recording of myself! Ridiculous, but true.

Nevertheless, I needed these songs for this recent demo, so I womaned up and recorded myself into the arrangement, and gave the mix a little polish too, along the way.

Here are the songs in all their glory. 

I loved working on Emergency Story Penguin. There were some right problems behind the scenes but, in classic Heather fashion, I was mostly oblivious until after the fact. Working on these pieces in this last week has brought back only the happy memories, how much joy I found in the story and being able to inhabit the world on set with the actors and puppets, sets and effects. It was glorious.

A lovely trip down memory lane.

(I also wrote about the process of creating the iconic, breakaway pop hit ‘Power to the Engines’ here – Scoring the Song.)

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• I’m working on a pitch for a project I’d be seriously happy to get. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
• I cancelled my gym membership because now the sun is coming up earlier I feel more inclined to get outside for my, albeit brief, two-or-three-times-a-week run.

But that’s it.

So as I continue to bimble about my delightfully quiet and uneventful life as it is at the moment, allow me instead to share some loads more interesting news I came across recently from the world of SCIENCE. I do love a bit of science, you know.

Scientists have used a simple, repeating piano chord to help reduce nightmares

FLIPPING BRILLIANT.

From the New Scientist (17 February, 2024) article:

“36 people spent time envisaging a better end to their bad dreams before sleep, but half were also exposed to the sound of a piano chord every 10 seconds while they did this. At night, each person wore a headband containing electrodes to monitor their brain activity. When it registered that they had entered REM sleep, the same piano chord was played every 10 seconds until the REM period had finished. After two weeks, both groups had fewer nightmares, but the piano chord group had significantly fewer than the other group.”

From the Geneva University Faculty of Medicine website:

” “We asked the patients to imagine positive alternative scenarios to their nightmares. However, one of the two groups of patients did this exercise while a sound – a major piano chord – was played every ten seconds. The aim was for this sound to be associated with the imagined positive scenario. In this way, when the sound was then played again but now during sleep, it was more likely to reactivate a positive memory in dreams,” explains Sophie Schwartz, a full professor in the Department of Basic Neurosciences at the UNIGE Faculty of Medicine and the Swiss Center for Affective Sciences.”

I wonder why the choice of a repeating piano chord, and not another sound? It was a major chord; not some diminished 11th chord, so perhaps it was likely to already have a positive association? Generally, in Western musical traditions at least, a major chord signals a positive, happy or content tone. It would make sense to use such an association to diminish the strength of the negative emotions experienced during a nightmare.

With it being only the same chord over and over again, it also probably became quite hypnotic and meditative after a while.

… However, in a DRAMATIC turn of events, I *just* dug into the paper itself…

If I’m reading this correctly, it’s not even a major chord.

It’s a ‘C69’ chord. It’s got a Debussy-ish, impressionist, almost dreamy vibe (I see why they chose it!). Technically there’s both a major and minor chord in there mashed up together, making it neither.

To my ear, tonally, it’s kind of… contented with a very slight side of a wry twinkle-in-the-eye…

But see what you think:

If it were me, I’d have let the chord sustain a bit longer than 1 second. That’s possibly just an aesthetic preference, and perhaps the chord release on their piano was less abrupt.

But I digress.

36 people is quite a small sample size too, so I’d like to see this experiment replicated.

Still – it’s great to hear that music, even in such a simple form, can be used to help this condition therapeutically. Yay Science!

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Not, mind, that I’ve been commissioned to score it. No sirree, the chances of me getting on that music team are, let’s be realistic, slim to none. But I’m not going to let that get in my way. I have, as you will see, combined two birds with one… branch, so that both may live! Now I have messed up my metaphors sufficiently, allow me to show my working.

It’s purely wishful thinking. Whilst I’m in a moment of downtime, I have, like any self-respecting composer-for-media, turned to writing a production library album. It is a privilege to have relationships with several libraries, one that every few years must be nurtured. It’s challenging (for me, at least) to compose an album alongside commissioned work, so I tend to turn in such a body of work maybe once a year or even once every other year.

I’m in such a position now as, ahem, I am ‘between projects’, as we say in the business. So I’m writing the album, but to make it fun, deliberate and purposeful, I’m writing it as if I were writing for the Murderbot series. I’m writing as if I’m scoring scenes on exoplanets in a far-flung future where a ragtag found family of misfits teams up with the reluctant, hilarious, pathetic and eminently identifiable cybernetic SecUnit (who christens themselves, somewhat ironically but sometimes accurately, Murderbot) to do the right thing, between the times that said Murderbot is generally avoiding human interaction and binge-watching their favourite melodramatic TV series.

Did I mention? Eminently identifiable. No?

So whilst I carefully and quietly seek out commissions, pitch for projects, and write the occasional demo track for music software companies, I’m also living the dream (no really, I’m not crazy, just deluded) by creating the most luscious soundtracks that will eventually, hopefully, find their way to a production library, and perhaps be licensed for a project… of your creation?

And when that Murderbot pitch comes a-knocking… I’ll be ready with a swathe of music demonstrating how perfect I am for the job.

Sneak peeks:

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From Arturia’s site:

Dynamically responsive spectral sound (MPE)

From rich, evolving ambiences to augmented synths and organic textures, Expressive Explorations offers an MPE-enabled library of emotive sounds – designed to evolve as you play and deliver a diverse tonal range.

Track Breakdown

After I’d written it, it was rather exciting to be asked if they could make a video of the arrangement – showing how I’d assembled the sounds, the different timbres and styles, and the way I’d built interest and intrigue into the piece. It was quite thrilling to see it analysed and explained in such depth.

I really enjoyed hearing the analysis – I’d written the track quite intuitively by trying out various presets and layering the melodies and harmonies as I went so it was a treat to hear it analysed so eloquently. In reality, in my head, it was mostly, “Ooh, this sounds nice, let’s layer it,” and, “Ah, that’s a nice variation in the sound when I twiddle this particular effects knob”. And so on until there’s a piece of music forming.

Pulling the track together was quite quick as the presets were all very playable and it was hard to choose which I should use and which I should leave for another day after which I spent a little more time rearranging the structure and the mix.

I worked with Arturia to ensure we focused on the MPE effects on some of the sounds to demonstrate their versatility. In practice, since I don’t have an MPE controller (yet!) this involved layering various controller messages in sync to give the impression that the simple and intuitive interface of a typical MPE controller was varying multiple parameters (eg custom FX, vibrato, brightness etc). You might hear these subtle variations at the start on the plucked Koto-like instrument and at both the start and end in the solo flute.

Aeon of Ascension

*MPE stands for MIDI Polyphonic Expression, a kind of controller that allows a more tactile and complex performance whilst recording. Here’s an example of such a controller.

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Haruto’s Remembrance

Composed using Analog Lab and their free-to-download soundpack ‘Play’. This starts with nostalgia and develops into something more dramatic and hopeful.

Escape Velocity

Composed using Analog Lab Pro, and the soundpack ‘Inward Universe‘. This is a more subtly driving and dark piece with a very retro feel, becoming more bright and exciting as it builds towards the climax.

Thanks to Arturia for the commission and the use of their ace soundbacks. I had a great deal of fun working with them – it’s always inspiring to get one’s hands on new music toys!

At the time of writing, another track is on its way, news to follow…

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But cut to this last season, and though there’ll always be the hint of a Zimmer-style staccato, choppy, subtle yet bright-in-the-best-way synth, now we have Phipps, bringing his sturdy British harmonies and… mournful French horn. 

The French Horn here, with its slow, stately simple theme – up a fourth, back down a fourth – oh my, it gets me every time. Slow and staid, as befits the nonsense of a stolid relic like the British royal system, but also gently mournful and longing… wishing for what was – perhaps the glory of a bygone era. 

Along with the stillness-with-a-twinkle-in-her-eye of Imelda Staunton’s Queen, this music pulls its weight in what could otherwise be a tired, plodding, pedantic story. Along with Dominic West’s Charles – sympathetic, earnest, naive and desperate – this music makes you realise the point at which you’re supposed to feel something rather than just passively watching the monarchy slowly crumble under its own sagging weight.

Let’s get specific, shall we: there’s a moment when Wills goes to find Charles to make peace after the turmoil and upset of Diana’s death. Beware SPOILERS AHEAD…

And we see, from a distance – the POV of an elderly Phillip – as Charles turns around to see Wills approach. We can’t really hear anything that’s been said. There’s a bit of a conversation but it’s irrelevant to what we’re here to see, what we’re here to feel. Wills just goes for the hug and the look of genuine, subtle happiness on West’s face is quite sweet and blah blah blah… and then that haunting, mournful solo horn kicks in.

Oh. My. It’s so lovely. So pointed yet so subtle. Here it is, saying, look, look, these are just real people, just like you and me, they have feelings too, they need human contact, and sympathy and understanding, just like you and me. Look! Look at the father watching his son be the father, those past memories when Charles was just a boy (and remember the brilliant turn of Matt Smith – aka The 11th Doctor to you and me – as Phillip in series gone by) and on and on it goes…

Whilst that lusty, distant French Horn plays, I believe it. I believe.

For that tiny moment, Phipps with his up-a-fourth-down-a-fourth has turned this steely-hearted, anti-monarchist’s heart to mush. No, you shed a tear.

I’m over it now though. In case you were worried.

*this is the sort of thing I was talking about:

Inception:  Hans Zimmer – Time (Official Audio)

The Crown: Duck Shoot (From around 0:51)

Do you hear the similarity?

If you’re interested in that sort of thing – there’s a nice breakdown of the latter chord progression from Ali Jamieson here: The Crown – Duck Shoot (Rupert Gregson-Williams) – Zeroes and Ones 

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• Writing Music for Other People (Ivors Academy/PRS, Leeds)
• Composing Music for Media at the Yorkshire Music Forum Conference (Ivors Academy, Leeds)
• Composing Music for Children’s Media at the Ivors Academy Media Conference (Ivors/PRS, London)

There were many questions in common – how did you start, how do you find work to begin with, what are your approaches to various different types of media and audience.

I noticed that often whilst the panellists would largely agree on answers to general topics, we all would have varied approaches to specific areas of work.

Some are happy to have a DIY approach to most aspects of their work and others build large teams to focus on specific areas of composition, production and associated business. Some composers don’t have publishers or agents. Some don’t have accountants. Some work in partnerships, others prefer to work in a more solitary manner. Some have worked with a small pool of the same clients for many years, whilst others have a wider and more varied reach. Some mix their own work, others don’t trust their ears any more.

Some composers always work to a locked, completed picture. Whatever music they produce, it will have to fit with that finished film; the film won’t ever be edited around the music. Other composers will work from very near the start of pre-production, and will collaborate with film, theatre or games makers much more closely. This means their music will inform the other media, and the two will evolve more side-by-side.

Some composers work in Logic Pro. Others in Cubase, or Digital Performer, or Ableton Live. Others work in Sibelius or Dorico or MuseScore. Others work in ProTools.

Some say in-person networking, meetings and associated glad-handing are the best ways to find work. Some prefer an online-first approach (very common in games). Some swear by social media. Others avoid it.

Some advocate for a very ‘passionate’ way of working, and suggest that you prioritise the work of composition above all else otherwise you’ll never get anywhere in this cutthroat, dog-eat-dog business world of the media.

Others might have been burned by running their time in this way, and look more to a compassionate and human-centred focus – balancing work and time away from it, with more clear boundaries between the two.

Some prefer to work solely through email. Others speak to their team and client through phone and zoom. Others are text-app-only, and rarely check email at all.

One thing is clear though: there’s no one single, correct way to be a composer. And, to some degree, everyone’s making it up as they go along.

Photo by G Croucher c/o Ivors Academy/PRS

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Get ready for grounding rituals, technology allies, peaceful silence, and powerful collaborations that have helped me stay calm and focused.

Finding Your Grounding: Rituals for Stability

When things get crazy, rituals can ground you. Starting my work day with a large pot of decaf coffee and a huge bowl of fancy porridge* warms up my brain and helps me transition into a creative mindset, along with morning pages and mindfulness meditation (and occasionally an early run). Routines to keep my workspace clear and organised boost my focus and purpose. The simple act of removing the dust covers from my keyboards signals the mindset to sit down and work.

Harnessing Tranquility: Technology for Focus

It gets a bad rap as a source of distraction, but tech can be helpful too. My noise-cancelling headphones help incredibly when there are unforeseen noises around (say, the gardeners are hacking away at the communal gardens again) and let me fully immerse myself in my compositions, blocking out distractions. Whilst I always recommend mixing on monitors (speakers), wired sound-cancelling headphones have a special place in my composition process, especially when I’m on a deadline.

If you’re subscribed to my newsletter, I may have shared my go-to YouTube ambience videos with you already. These ambient soundscapes transport me to peaceful places, calming any inadvertent fight or flight response, allowing that quiet inner voice of creativity to be heard. If the piece I’m working on isn’t too CPU-intensive, I’ll leave a little video playing in the corner of one of the secondary screens – maybe with the sound of a rainstorm, a snow flurry, a forest or a log fire quiet in the background.

Seeking Refuge in Silence

In a noisy world, finding moments of silence is crucial. Though I often like to take breaks during the day in peaceful corners, such as a quiet moment in the nearby park, to recharge and reconnect with my creativity, early mornings are the best time for this. I’ve recently started waking up at 5 or 6am to go for a run in the local streets or park, and there are so few people around, I have the place to myself. It’s an absolute luxury, for which I highly recommend getting over the pain of an early wake-up!

As mentioned earlier, mindfulness meditation is a regular part of my morning. There’s one singular benefit I’ve noticed of this practice that makes everything else so much easier. I now see clearly when my mind has gone off a-wandering down a rabbit hole, a flight of fancy, or into the depths of rumination, and I can decide there and then whether I want to keep going, with the full awareness of whether I’m on-task or not, or if my mind is becoming my own worst enemy. If the latter, I can gently bring myself back to the task at hand. Judgement-free (usually).

Journalling for Clarity

As I mentioned above, I start my day, most days, with ‘morning pages’ (per Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way) where I type a stream of consciousness for somewhere between 500 and 1000 words. It gets all the angst and mardiness out and often reveals what it is that I’m actually ticked off about. It brain dumps all the to-dos. It takes me on interesting, unexpected tangents. At the end of it (and after the mindful meditation for between 10 and 20 minutes) my brain feels refreshingly clear, ready for the subconscious to bubble up all sorts of interesting new ideas for the music ahead.

Collaboration Unveiled

Collaborating with others is supposed to be exciting, fun, joyful, and inspiring… isn’t it? Occasionally it is, but when for whatever reason it isn’t it’s better to separate ‘working’ time from ‘communication’ time (if you have the option), at least it is for me. Using whatsapp, email or other online tools, I can work with others at my own pace, without constant interruptions. Notifications are almost always off, and I check messages and email regularly throughout the day on a rough schedule.

This strategy, simple though it is, allows me to contribute thoughtfully in a prepared and organised way, whilst still being part of meaningful collaborations that enhance my work and take it in unexpected directions (see this recent collab I did with Andy Thompson for MediaTracks – I’m on violin and string programming).

You may have already heard of managing stress in media work with these strategies. I’m here to tell you that they work because I actually do them. By embracing rituals, leveraging technology, finding silence, journaling, and collaborating wisely, you can stay calm, focused and ready to bring your A-game to the studio to work.

*fancy porridge: oats, buckwheat groats, tahini or peanut butter (crunchy, obvs), chia seeds, ground flax, sunflower, pumpkin and sesame seeds, roasted pecans, hazelnuts, cashews and/or almonds, cacao nibs, oat milk and maybe, if you’ve been especially good, a drizzle of maple syrup. Now you’re either ready for work or ready for a nap. Either way, it’s all good.

Image: Filey Beach, copyright 2022 H. Fenoughty – now don’t go nicking my holiday snaps will you, pesky AI bots

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There are other qualites that are definitely nice-to-have, but over the years (and, as I say, in the eye blink of time I’ve had so far of this life, salt here, salt there, salt everywhere) it seems like there are some that at first glance may have appeared essential but are in fact just added bonuses.

Salt at the ready…

So what makes for a great director? Here we go: 

• Care
• Vision
• Openness
• Decisiveness

Is that it? I think it might be. Everything else I’ve written here is a bonus. 

Care

Care of the project, specifically, can make or break a production. To care about what is being made by the people that you’re directing, rather than say, ‘Oh, it’ll do’, lends a unified quality to the end product. It also encourages those people to bring more specificity to what they’re making for the director – when the director cares about quality, relevance or how it ‘fits in’ with the overall vision (see next), that care filters down through heads of department to all the staff on production.

There’s also a need for the care of the people who are working with and for them. Not in a sentimental way, but more of an understanding that you are working with other humans, with all that this weird, existentially trying experience entails! It calls for understanding, a little bit of empathy, an openness (see later) to hear them out, and respect and regard for what they bring to the project. It’s also about encouraging a working environment of honesty and fairness in, at the very least, a civil and professional manner.

This is one of my opinions, and you can absolutely disagree (here’s some salt). There’s a wealth of information about how the ‘great’ directors of the past exploited and abused their actors and crew. I’m arguing today that this takes away from their greatness. It downgrades them to a lesser rating. And going forward, no director can be labelled great without this essential attitude towards the people working to bring their vision to life.

Vision

(I’m searching here for a better word that’s more inclusive of the experience – let me know if you have a better one)

Great directors know what they’re trying to say, and what the project is supposed to look and sound like. At the very least, they know what it wants to feel like. It appears to be a consistent, inner knowing without having first experienced it. It’s a kind of faith.

Openness  

The great director is up for new ideas! They love to hear other ways of experiencing life. They’re also confident enough in their integrity to countenance dissent in a fair and measured way (see ‘Care’, above). They’re also open to the possibility that plans might (and inevitably will) change. Though they have their ‘vision’, the greatest directors aren’t always certain about how they’re going to get there and embrace that uncertainty as part of the joy of collaborative creation.

Decisiveness

I have so much respect for a director who says, “I don’t know” when they don’t… and then, when they see a decision absolutely needs to be made to move the work on to the next stage, they’ll make that decision without hesitation. Great directors know the buck stops with them to keep the train moving when the way forward is at a crossroads.

And then, they know that it’s not necessary to keep to that decision stubbornly. It can change to react to new information and future situations… but at that moment in which the decision needs to be made it will be. It’ll align with the vision, and it’ll be made with care and an openness to the fact that it may not be the best in the long term but it’s the right one at that moment.

There are other nice-to-have qualities that seem, since I wrote this previous post (many many years ago), not to be as essential. These four qualities – care, vision, openness and decisiveness – really do make for great directors.

(Hope you managed to keep your head above the mountain of salt there!)

Image: The photo wall from the set of The Department of Distractions by Third Angel, Copyright H. Fenoughty 2018

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As a composer for commercial media, it would make sense for me to be against music AI. AI seems to threaten most immediately, library music (but its coming for the rest of us, sooner or later). A not-insignificant proportion of my royalty income comes from this sort of music that I’ve written in the past. I expect I’ll continue to write for libraries well into the future… unless AI takes over completely (which I predict it will eventually).

Writing for library music can be really fun – I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the production library albums I’ve worked on – but it tends to require quick writing to ensure a profitable output where originality and creativity sometimes become secondary to the need for placements and any ensuing royalties. The more you write, the faster you write, and the more categorisable it is, the more likely you’ll make a decent living from it.

By their nature, libraries thrive on having vast catalogs. This increases the probability they’ll have just the tune that the client is looking for.

However, composers who write for those catalogs will likely do better in more boutique, smaller, specialist libraries – which has mostly been my experience to date. Any client arriving at that particular library will more be likely, purely through the library’s specialisation and the fact that there are fewer other tracks to compete against, to pick that composers track. There’s a clear, economic, unspoken tension between these two positions.

In theory (and I’m sure in practise very soon) AI could rapidly produce vast catalogs of music in any given style using a dataset to learn from. Though not original, it could rival much of the music found in libraries today. I have a sneaking feeling this could happen within the next year or two.

In this scenario, AI might easily replace the human composers of library music, cutting off a source of revenue for many early-career composers especially. It’s unclear whether the composers whose data has been used to train the AI will be compensated, though I think the most visible companies will make some effort, the way Shutterstock has said its photographers, artists and visual designers will be compensated for clients using Shutterstock’s own in-house AI and from the sale of its visual dataset to other machine-learning entities.

Even if they are, I suspect the royalties generated will likely be small because, let’s face it, the point of using AI is to save costs. Machine-learned, neural network AI is cheaper to use than people. This is primarily why the big companies are so so very excited about AI: the bottom line (understandably).

Library composers appear to be the most immediately at-risk, but others that are likely next in the firing line are assistant composers (who are known to ghost-write for lead composers without credit) and composers for any media who specialise in pastiche styles – those who can write in any given musical style, analyze and synthesize any musical pattern, structure, or format, and create something still new enough to avoid legal issues and also familiar enough to avoid scaring off an audience that enjoys most what it’s familiar with.

And yet, and yet…

I really just want to input all my previous works, including both the classical and commercial ones, into an AI that can learn my style and generate new ideas. This AI would analyze and synthesize my work, and suggest new concepts that I may like. I just want to know what it’d spew out!

I expect I’d really rather enjoy collaborating with this AI to create something unique and unexpected, like a patchwork quilt of all my previous work and the AI’s interpretation of it. I’d take this as raw material to create something further, a more finished piece. I’m quite sure I’m not the only person to think this way – for this reason, I suspect AI collaboration is an area within composition that will become inevitable.

But the ethical considerations bother me. I think of the notion of ‘appropriation’ – situations where the less powerful are taken advantage of and their cultural creations are stolen for the personal entertainment and gain of the capitalist oppressor. I’m reminded of the ways we in the West have appropriated cultural artefacts and styles in the past (and continue to do so, the kleptomaniacs that we are).

If I could guarantee that the AI I was working with was using only my music to train itself, quite frankly I’d be there in a second. My ability to code is limited to html and css so I’d need an interface such as a plugin or a standalone app. I don’t think that technology is far from becoming a reality though.

Although I am conflicted and will continue to be so, I suspect… I still want to see what AI can do.

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