I've been thinking a lot about the interplay between consonance and dissonance.
It's funny, I've always thought of consonance and dissonance as universal constants. Root, fifth: lovely. Root, fourth: delightful. Root, third, fifth: ain't that some sugar.
Oh and the seventh shapes. Alone, I'm all "What else you got, sweetie?" But play 'em with a fresh major, and it's like "Will they? Won't they?" Put a ring on it, already, guy. Sheesh.
Root, second, though- now that won't pay the bills. Why? They're right next to each other, but they can't live in harmony. Oh. I see what I did there.
Turns out, dissonance and consonance are as much psychological as they are physical. The predominant tuning in Western music, 12-tone equal temperament, it's just an algorithm dividing intervals into equal parts based on a semitone ratio of the twelfth root of two. Turns out, the ear will hear consonance outside of these boundaries as well.
I think my ear isn't very well trained to traditional consonance. A major fourth is supposed to be more consonant than a major third, but I can't hear it. It all sounds fine to me. I also let my guitar fall out of tune sometimes. So? Come at me.
The funny thing is, the perception of consonant, stable forms depends on knowledge of dissonance. Every composition contains dissonance as notes depart from the root. When the resolution comes, the dissonance provides a departure; making the resolution all the more satisfying. The further the departure, the more satisfying the resolution.
I like feedback. I like major seconds. I like static and turmoil. I like the shot where you look into the medicine cabinet and then scary man is behind you but it was all a dream; or was it? Here, I made you some dissonance.
xoxo (CW) Alex
Posted Monday, Nov 18th 2013 @ 15:22