8.45 am. I return to studio work and to several works in progress from The Bible in Translation project beginning with the ‘New Songs’, a suite of ‘soundtexts’ based upon psalms that were sung to the accompaniment of stringed instruments. (I’m intent on completing Matt. 20.23 by the close of the day too):

The suite is still sour. The problem: there are 26 letters in the Roman alphabet, but only 25 notes in two successive chromatic octaves. A single chromatic octave has 12 notes. But two successive octaves have only 25 notes, because the last note of the first octave and the first note of the last octave are shared. Consequently, the former cannot be codified in terms of the latter without compromise and, as such, there’s no possibility of reconciling the two systems. It has been a frustrating impasse.

If a problem can’t be resolved as it stands. ‘What to do?’ Consider:

• the nature of the problem, and of the impossibility it appears to present;
• whether the true problem is, instead, one’s understanding of the apparent problem;
• whether the apparent problem can be understood in other terms.

In this case, I began by interrogating my rationale. Why did I want to map the alphabet (which represents a fixed component in the project’s system) onto a two-octave chromatic run? For one, a sequence of notes following one after another corresponds to the like progression of letters in an alphabet. Therefore, that component in the system must also remain fixed. But, there are scales besides the chromatic. Since the mapping process doesn’t insist upon the use of that particular scale, this component in the system is flexible.  Once I’d realized that there was room in the system to manoeuvre, an alternative solution presented itself:

E-minor pentatonic scale: E G A C D. E-Major pentatonic scale: E F# G# B C#

The E-minor pentatonic scale (consisting of five notes) fits into a 26-letter alphabet five times, with one remainder: an ‘E’; the first note of the next pentatone and the same note — five pentatones higher — as the initial note in the scalar sequence:

Theologically, this is advantageous. The consanguinity of the concepts of first and last in biblical thought is significant. Christ referred to himself in those terms: ‘I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end’ (Rev. 33.13). The appellation refers to the initial and closing letters of the Hebrew alphabet. It’s like saying, Christ is the A and Z of the Roman alphabet. So, it was important that the principle of first and last being different yet essentially the same was honoured, analogically, in the start and finish of the musical-scale sequence. Ethnomusicologists suggest that, in all likelihood, pentatonic and heptatonic scales (consisting of 6 notes) governed the composition of Hebrew music at the time the psalms were written.

So, what appeared to be an impossible problem, on closer consideration, yielded not only a solution, but one that was far more appropriate to the source material. But, as I’ve said before: ‘It’s one of life’s truisms: every solution creates its own problem’ (August 7, 2014). The full five-plus-one note pentatonic sequence exceeds the note range of a 22-fret guitar (on which ‘New Songs’ will be played). Therefore, I’ll need to use a pitch-shifting effector on the pedalboard in order to play two pentanones below the lowest ‘E’ on the instrument.

1.30 pm. Over lunch, I put away studio equipment before codifying the alphabet in relation to the pentatonic minor and major scales:

6.15 pm. Practise session 1. 7.30 pm. I attended the opening of The Chinese Student Exchange Exhibition (organised by Paul Croft) and Impress Print Workshop, Brisbane (organised by Judy Macklin) at the School:

It was was one of the best attended openings of the year so far.  The two shows, together, presented an extraordinary compendium of the myriad manifestations of printmaking (and other mediums beside). Art should replace politics as the engine of entente:

9.30 pm. I didn’t fulfil my ambition to complete the sound processing of Matt. 20.23, having underestimated the time it would take and overestimated my determination. A fatal combination. Tomorrow, then.