Saturday, January 27, 2007

#13 - Hmmmmmmmmm

Hmmmmmmmmm

12/3/03

Suppose I said to you right now, "Hum a note." And since you are the subject of my fictional experiment, you'd humor me with a strong, steady "Hmmmmmmm."

Now suppose I asked the same thing of you tomorrow. Do you think you would hum the same note? How about six days running? And perhaps each day we recorded them in immediate order on a tape recorder, then played them back sequentially: would the tape play like a single, monotone note, or would it jump all over the scale with each day's mood and energy? (I would try this experiment myself for scientific research, but I just thought of this concept today.)

This occurred to me tonight while humming my daughter to sleep tonight---I sustained a note that felt comfortably familiar, as if its frequency was vibrating in tune with my soul. While I do not have the tape recorder to support my theory (and I admit that that might be a good thing for my theory), I am fairly sure that there is a certain pitch that I would define as the default "me". Likewise, I suspect there is a note that is most like you---sort of like a favorite color, except on a subconscious level.

I don't want to get into music theory, but a small bit of the technical side might help to explain. A scale in C major contains a certain pattern of eight notes; a scale in C minor contains a certain pattern of eight notes, 6 of which are shared with the C major scale. Thus, if two instrumentalists played these differing scales, but played only the notes common between the two, they would technically be playing "different" scales yet would sound completely harmonious. A similar crossover occurs with G major and C major scales---7 of the notes are shared, each containing one dissonant note.

Conversely the F major and F# (sharp) major scales contain only two shared notes, so a duet in which each person plays one of those scales is destined to be either snoringly monotonous or painfully cacaphonous.

So perhaps we are each attuned to a scale, an organized series of notes. If so, that would go a long way toward explaining why certain people make the cliche "beautiful music" together and others are discordant. (Let's face it---even the biggest ass you know has friends. Given their annoying behavior and limited social skills, how else can you explain their ability to car pool other than sympathetic vibration? You are F, they are F#, and never the twain shall meet. But a 20 minute commute with another F#, a C# Major, and a B is a completely tolerable journey---a few clashes here and there, but plenty of room for common ground.)

I recently heard a story on NPR about scientists who have been studying the human mind in relation to the subject of music. In particular, while many people cannot play music, and may have had no exposure to music, most everyone is able to determine the "bad" note in an incorrectly played scale. Armed with this internal, innate sense of "right", perhaps we naturally gravitate to those who vibrate in scales similar to our own, those with the fewest "bad" notes. Likewise, we are repulsed by those with whom we do not naturally harmonize.

I hope the scientists expand their study to confirm or refute my theory, because I am not likely to pursue my 6 day tape recording experiment, let alone conduct clinical research into the humming habits of a blind study group. I'm just going to celebrate that the scales I hear in my head sound so good with all of the wonderful people in my life, and hope that I can remember the note that quickly eased Sage off to dreams tonight.


©2003 wpreagan

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