Mia Windsor

“I think it really encompasses what I’m interested in when it comes to pitch. That spectral approach between thinking about pitch in a sense of how it makes up a timbre in a very literal sense — taking real sounds apart, and then rebuilding them and seeing what comes out of that.”

Mia Windsor

Mia Windsor is a composer, improviser and researcher based in Leeds. She is currently completing a funded PhD at the University of Leeds exploring the artefacts that emerge from frequency domain audio processing, supervised by Scott McLaughlin and Oliver Thurley. Her background focuses on machines and music, fascinated by algorithmic processes, tracker action pipe organs and creative coding. A member of digital art collective Organism Collective, she has presented at the 3rd Conference on AI Music Creativity and was awarded the Berkofsky Arts Award for eō: an evolutionary sound installation; recent projects include For Conifer with Thomas Carroll and Anthony J. Stillabower, solo album this is a place where i can sit with clarity on Sawyer Editions, and pieces for Huw Morgan’s mainly slow organ music. Alongside composing and researching, Mia plays the pipe organ, runs music technology workshops for Yorkshire Sound Women Network, and plays synth in art pop band Static Caravan.

Patrick Ellis had a chat with Mia to talk about pipe organs, spectral manipulations, experimental music spaces, and embracing glitches…

Patrick/PRXLUDES: The first thing I wanted to talk about is your PhD, which is titled “glitch as a creative tool in experimental composition and improvisation”. Could you please tell me more about that?   

Mia Windsor:  “Glitch” is probably the wrong word as I’ve learnt recently, so I’m working on a new title.What I am particularly interested in doing is creating/curating processes that utilise frequency domain audio processing, and then see what odd artefacts (weird glitches and noises, etc.) emerge from those processes and become part of the material itself.

To contextualise all of this: what I am doing is taking sounds, breaking them down into their spectral components (so the stacks of frequencies in the harmonic series with different amplitudes that make up a sound), and then re-synthesising these frequencies. I often like to find ways to combine the spectral of components of one sound with that of another in various ways. For example you could take the frequencies of one sounds spectrum and map that onto the amplitudes of another’s. My live sets follow a similar process,  I’ll take a sound, extract its spectrum, re-synthesize that spectrum as separate sine tones, and then I can manipulate that in a really detailed way.

How did you get interested in this whilst you were developing as a composer? 

I became interested in the whole glitch and artefact thing through researching AI and music for my undergraduate dissertation, and becoming really cynical about [it]… -laughs- My question was trying to work out what creativity is from the perspective of a machine — trying to ask the question, “if machines are capable of making music, what does that mean for what creativity is?” The thing I got particularly interested in whilst researching was that I was almost looking into it as a musicologist; analysing these really bizarre AI generated black metal tracks, which was a lot of fun. -laughs- 

During the process of researching I became fascinated with using neural networks to generate raw audio. This works by taking a piece of audio, dividing it up at the sample level (somewhere between 8000 and 44100 samples per second) — which is a tiny scale — and then training it to try and piece the audio back together. However, it never does this entirely correctly; so you end up with all these really bizarre glitches and strange ghostly sounds. so I become obsessed with when the AI doesn’t quite work, which was a cool jumping off point. I can imagine this procedure to be really interesting for improvisers to respond to — having this system which is being fed sounds from the performers all of the time, whilst they hear these weird glitches coming from their output. I don’t use these kinds of neural networks in my work because I found I could control more and be more actively involved with my spectral approaches, but it’s definitely a similar aesthetic and way of thinking that was influential. (This is probably my favourite raw audio neural network example!)

So with the processes, you are essentially selecting the elements from a spectrum and then picking them out and combining them, but you are uncertain of the resultant sound? 

Completely uncertain. When you have a sound that’s already a very complex detailed thing, then pull it apart — take the spectrum of two different sounds, and then try to combine those spectral properties together — you’re going to have this really bizarre alien sound that comes out of it. Kind of one and kind of the other; but also informed by how the machine decides to behave, and fail sometimes, hence the artefacts and glitches.

A really interesting thing that I like doing is impulse response based cross synthesis. You know if you are in a DAW like Logic, and you have those reverb options to emulate a specific space? Instead of tacking the sound of a space onto the recording you can also just use any recorded sound. This results in [a] droney hybrid between the two sounds that sometimes feeds back.

Were the facets of tuning and timbre present in your earlier work? Or did this develop more gradually through a process of self-discovery during the AI research that you did during your undergrad? 

I was a tuning nerd for a while, I discovered it in the more rigid sense of using specific tuning systems after feeling like I’d been lied to my entire life by equal temperament. Years ago, I was told to read William Sethares’ Tuning, Timbre, Spectrum, Scale; as I had started thinking about the harmonic series a lot. I only read it recently after another nudge from a friend and I think it really encompasses what I’m interested in when it comes to pitch. That spectral approach between thinking about pitch in a sense of how it makes up a timbre in a very literal sense — taking real sounds apart, and then rebuilding them and seeing what comes out of that. But also when listening to music, I’m always drawn towards more harmonic things, so I think that always ends up coming into my music.

The album that I had released on Sawyer Editions last year [this is a place where i can sit with clarity] was a really fun one to do, because I wasn’t in any kind of academic sphere at the time. I was just working that year. That whole album morphs between those two things; the first track is pipe-organ drones and string instruments with some harmonic consideration, but then both of the string instruments are being re-synthesised and they are both modulating each other. So  you get this weird spectral harmonic shifts on top of related harmonic pitch material.

When I first got into tuning, I didn’t really know what spectral music was, because I was scared of it… -laughs- The only spectral piece that I had come across was Saariaho’s ‘Petals’ as part of my A Levels. It’s a cool piece, but it’s a complex work that overwhelmed me at the time, because it felt like the cellist was just shredding. So whenever anyone would mention spectralism, it was a scary buzz word to me. It took me a while to realise that what I was composing was in fact spectral music.

Has technology and live processing always been central to your practice? 

Not always. I often write for the pipe organ. There I tend to not really process anything; when it doesn’t need it, it doesn’t need it. I think when an instrument does everything you need it to, [then] I’m happy. [Generally] I have gone in a lot of directions and it only took until my Masters for anything to stick and be like, “this is the thing I really, really care about.” I don’t think it’s the be all and end all of what I do, but I really enjoy it as a creative tool. I find computers really fascinating in terms of what they can do, so I think it comes in when it’s fitting.

What kinds of tools and softwares do you use to generate these spectral combinations? 

I am a massive MaxMSP fan and got interested in it during the pandemic. I had nothing to do [at the time], so I just got into creative coding. I do perform now, but I never considered myself to be a good performer in any sort of conventional sense. It was exciting to realise that I can build my own instruments that work for me and don’t require any established standard of playing. For that, I mainly use Max, but I am trying to get better at computer programming and have gone a bit more hardcore with it, learning some text based-languages. But it’s mainly looking at what other people have done already, piecing together different elements, eventually turning it into something that I can use.

I don’t think that’s the only thing I care about and work with as an artist, though. I found it really frustrating once going to a conference that I was presenting at, and it was full of tech bros talking about music in the worst way imaginable — “Oh yes, I used AI to make MIDI folk music”. But I do spend too much time thinking about Max.

But that’s maybe a healthy thing if you are thinking about it a lot?

I don’t know. -laughs- 

I do sometimes think I struggle using Max to build my own instruments. The way I use Max is often taking some kind of input — like my voice or organ pipes — and then resynthesizing the sound, taking all of the details that come from it. A lot of the reason why people just buy a synth, or play with something that exists, is that it already has been designed to be really intuitive — whereas for me, I’ll build some kind of clunky thing and think, “I’ll just hook up some kind of controller to my toe and then I can use this.” But it is really awkward and horrible to play. On the other hand, you could go the other way and make something that’s supposed to sense pitches and sounds which automatically triggers a change in parameters; but that’s horrendous, because you’ll go into a different space and you’ll be like “oh no — the machine didn’t recognise that specific saxophone note…”

Last summer I played a lot of live sets and each time I would perform, I would think “okay, I’ve built this instrument, I’m going to practise now” — but then I’d end up tinkering more to try and make it better, when actually what I needed to do was learn to play the instrument in the first place. It’s an easy tool to just mess with and not get anywhere.

Would you say though that because you are constantly tweaking the instrument, you are gaining a greater familiarity with how it works — so maybe with each alteration, the instrument is getting better to how you want to play it? 

Yes, but what often happens is I keep making changes to it until it [the file] gets so big that it crashes my computer. Which is also a problem. -laughs- So, in theory, yes, but when I’m playing a set, I think, “I’ll just start again then” — and then the next set is something completely different. That takes up so much of my time and it’s completely pointless, in terms of I get a lot of satisfaction out of the curiousity of tweaking a new instrument.

But recently, I’ve been attending the improv workshops at the University of Huddersfield. [There] I am actually trying to learn to play the instruments properly, instead of just coding and then practising for two hours and then realising the thing doesn’t work. -laughs-

With the processes that you use, is it based around a familiar template that is then adapted for each composition? 

I have things that I can copy and paste, but I need to organise these better. I have hundreds and hundreds of files of different variations based around things that I’ve already made which I can incorporate into the next thing.

When you adjust these processes for different contexts (whether that be the instrumentation, project brief, etc.), what are your main considerations for adjusting the parameters?

It depends on the context on what I’m working with really. I’ve recently been playing in a duo with my friend Thomas Carroll — which is quite a fun one. I’m usually the person who makes the “nice” drone sounds, whilst Tom wreaks havoc. But in this project, we have swapped roles — which is interesting, because I can’t just make a consistent tone for ages and slowly shift it; I have to think about how I want to play and improvise in this context. So I’m re-synthesising sounds from a bunch of decoupled organ pipes from a church and controlling the re-synthesised sounds with a contact mic stuck in my mouth, and Tom makes reed organ drones and feedback from a ‘some input’ mixing setup. A recording of this is available on the B side of this tape.

As another example, I am performing [Michael] Pisaro-Liu’s piece Anabasis from Continuum Unbound as part of a group with James Creed, Thomas Carroll, Anthony J. Stillabower, Jo Christman and Yu Jin. Each performer has a role in the piece where one of them emulates waves, sand and wind; but in this, I am the person who is making tones with a completely different approach. When I am performing, I will use my reed organ and have a setup where all of the reed organ’s pitches have been re-synthesised such that I can bring in certain partials from the note that’s already sounding, which is really beautiful. I can be really slow with everything so gradually and think about each tiny detail, so that requires a slightly different setup to me shoving a contact mic in my mouth and hitting buttons.

Tell me about the scene in Leeds. Are there any designated spaces for experimental music?

At the University of Leeds, my supervisors are great; currently it is myself, James Creed and Lottie Sadd who are all doing PhDs at the same time, which I think is quite a good fit. I wouldn’t say that we make similar music, but there is enough crossover between our practices to work together sometimes. 

However, I spend a lot more time at DIY experimental gigs than I do in the concert hall. I spent a long time writing notated music and staying within that academic sphere before the pandemic — which was fine, but post-pandemic I’ve had a lot more fun in the DIY experimental and improvised music scenes. 

I end up at experimental gigs at Wharf Chambers, at least once a week which is the main spot for that sort of stuff. I think the environment of a grassroots venue is a lot more comfortable and freer in a lot of regards; in terms of that people can just show up and play without much stress. Also, it takes a lot of persuasion for me to even organise anything at the university, whereas all I need to do is make a booking at Wharf, then I have the freedom to put on what I want. The DIY scene just has much more of a community element to it; everyone just helps each other out. It’s given me an outlet to just perform and not feel too much pressure to do the best thing ever.

One of my best experiences of this was when my friends Tom and Rosemary booked Wharf Chambers for two days after some bookings were cancelled last minute. They put on a free festival called Music is Bad. It was brilliant because I could just do a set and not think about it too much. In fact, it ended up being one of my best performances as I felt no pressure to live up to some kind of standard as it’d only agreed to it the day before. They’re doing it again this year too, on the 15th and 16th of June, but with a bit more time to organise.

How does it compare to your impressions of some of the other DIY communities in the UK?

I’ve played in Birmingham once; that was really fun. It was at Artefact [for James McIlwrath’s all day AMOK event]. London is of course good for experimental music, but it’s expensive… -laughs- I think my take on Leeds is it’s a community that I feel comfortable in, and that I can get to a lot and do a lot — which has been good for me as a listener and an artist. I went to more mindblowingly good gigs last year in Leeds than I can count and am grateful to my friends who organise them, with Heinous Whining, Free Music Lessons and Professional Music at a Reasonable Rate counting for a lot of that.

Lately though, I’ve been spending a lot of time in Huddersfield too; I think the music department at Leeds is very composition heavy, whereas at Huddersfield they are more open to improvisation. Huddersfield’s department is also very heavy on creative coding. They have the Electric Spring Festival each year, which is full of really good events, followed by a nerdy symposium full of the exact same people each time who just talk about creative coding. I only see them once a year, but we have the best time. -laughs-

In terms of performing and presenting your work, which type of context do you prefer to frame your work in? Are there pieces of yours that are particularly framed for one or the other? Do you see your work as something that can transcend both types of performance venues? 

It depends. There are some pieces that need a pipe organ so that fits neither. -laughs- I’ve been trying to work out more things in churches, actually. A lot of the notation things I’ve composed in the last two years are very organ specific — you have to write for one organ as they are not standardised, which is why I like them so much. 

At the moment, I’ve been using my live solo sets as a testing ground. That’s a really good way to actually put the things I’ve built into practice. A lot of the time I play in a solo or duo context, so I don’t need a big speaker system or piano for what I want to explore. That tends to work quite nicely in DIY venues like Wharf Chambers. Although it is nice to have a piano sometimes. I think myself, James and Lottie have been trying to track down venues in Leeds that have pianos, that haven’t been pissed in — which is not good… -laughs-

Do you think there are works of yours that tie more into a DIY aesthetic…

I don’t think that many of the things that I have made recently are actually labelled as “works”, so maybe that says something. I have recently been using a feedback instrument called the Halldorophone,which was built by a guy called Halldór Úlfarsson. I I played a gig in Athens with that instrument, and it was such a fun gig because most of the performers were free improv musicians; so we were just able to jam for a few days and then just play a set for an hour at the end. So that fitted better in a relaxed context.

However, it’s interesting for me because I don’t really consider a lot of my solo performances to be improvised as I’ll often curate quite specific processes in the max patches. As an example, in 2022, I was really into taking inspiration from genetic algorithms: so having a musical idea, then another musical idea, blending properties of those two ideas, bringing in another and continuing the process. So that’s a process that I’ve often “curated”. I don’t think that counts as a “thing” that I have composed per se. A few years ago, I used to refer to those as “pieces” and they probably are; but I think there’s a lot of  murk in-between. Maybe the distinction is just that I don’t want to write a programme note and would rather just show up, play, and then write about it, which aligns more with the DIY gig approach.

When you work with these processes, is the aim to have it as something quite explicit, or do you like having a vagueness there? 

I think the murkiness tends to happen a lot. I’ve had to learn to embrace things not working, which goes back to the glitch thing. Even jumping back into the feedback instruments thing: the whole way that the halldorophone works is [that] you have strings with pickups on them, and a speaker on the back of the instrument. [The] speaker resonates the strings which pick up and are played back in the speaker, creating a constant feedback loop. You don’t know what it’s going to do. That level of indeterminacy is just really fun to play with. Another example is with live processing: someone in the audience will cough and then that gets fed into the system… -laughs- And then that cough happens to influence the cello tone and then [the] cough would modulate the cello.

Today, I was participating in an improv workshop led by Jean-Luc Guionnet and Seijiro Murayama. My setup was just a reed organ that I bought for £60 off of eBay; what I’ve done is put sponges underneath all of the keys so that I can push it down slowly, so that it will slowly let air into the reed and it will resonate. But sometimes because I’ve done that, the keys that I’ve pushed down too much will get stuck. Today, for example, lots of random pitches just got completely stuck; I would not have enough time [in performance] to just clamp them back down. Initially that used to stress me out, but as of late, I’m enjoying it as something to drive the performance — which my computer does sometimes too.

I think failure is a thing that I’m particularly interested in, particularly with the organ compositions that I do. It has nothing to do with my research whatsoever; I’ve just been really obsessed for a few years now, because none of the organs really work as how they are supposed to. They are all quite drastically different and when you approach one, it’s just like “okay, this is a totally new instrument, I have no idea how this is going to behave” — but that’s kind of the fun of it.

With live accidents like feedback, etc. do you use that as a cue to steer the live process into another direction? 

It’s fun to lean into. With feedback instruments, that’s just how they behave and you know that you’re going to have to respond to what it does. With the reed organ today it was just like “alright, these are my pitches as they got stuck and I can’t turn them off, there’s 12 other people in this room, I’m just going to keep going and  work with it.” I guess that’s how you define a glitch or artefact. That’s how Rosa Menkman defines it — an artefact is some kind of mechanical noise you understand the source of, and a glitch is one you are not expecting and you don’t know what it is or where it came from. In my electronic work I tend to be looking for the former, but finding the latter is exciting and can shift the performance in very special ways.

You’ve talked a lot about pipe organs. What first drew you to them?

My friend Catherine Harris, who is a very good organist, came over to mine for dinner one day and asked if I would like to write her a piece. I had never written for organ before, but it sounded like fun. Then I went over to mess with the organ, and I brought some friends along from the composers collective that I was running at the time — and I was just in awe, feeling like this was the instrument for me. I am classically trained as a pianist, but I haven’t played “normally” in about six years; however, the second I got into using synths, I really liked how I could make them sustain for as long as I wanted. Which I really felt was important to what I wanted to hear. 

I was really annoyed that pianos didn’t have microtonal possibilities. Of course, you can do harmonics with the strings, etc.; but you’re still limited to harmonic series. At that point in time, I was trying to design microtonal instruments in MaxMSP. But I really got into pipe organs, because they can sustain endlessly and do microtones, as well as the variety of timbral possibilities. 

I am not that into playing organs that aren’t tracker action. Tracker action [organs] are pipe organs where if you pull the stop out gradually, it lets air into the pipes which alters timbre and pitch of the sound. I wrote a piece for Catherine that was mainly focused around that technique. ‘Malum Opus’ — which is on the first pipe organ [record] that I did — starts off with one of the keyboards tuned conventionally and the other tuned a quarter-tone below, so you have these quarter-tone beating effects. Eventually it just goes wild and the manuals are pulled out slowly. 

Later on, I got to know Huw Morgan. His Mainly Slow Organ Music Series is my favourite thing in the world. On a Saturday, there at 11am, listening to slow drone organ music, a lot of Wandelweiser… it’s just great! I brought my sister along to one actually, but she just fell asleep (I guess that’s fine… -laughs-) I ended up writing a piece for Huw which was super specific to the organ at St Thomas the Martyr [Bristol], and wrote a piece that I think might be one of the most maximalist things that I’ve ever done, which is this is a place where i can sit comfortably. I titled it that because it was an instrument that [does] everything I want it to do without having to add anything and that felt comfortable. The score notates all of the exact stops, I might adapt it for other organs, we’ll see.

At Phipps Hall at the University of Huddersfield, they decided to get rid of the pipe organ there; which is really sad as the other organ they have isn’t tracker action. Luckily, my friend snuck me in there for the last two weeks before they got rid of it, which was great. I spent 10 hours a day playing the organ. I’ve got hours and hours of [recordings of] me playing [that] pipe organ. There is some of it where I play[ed] it with Thomas Carroll, who came on the last day. That’s coming out as a tape on Infant Tree in the summer at some point.

If anyone has an organ, I will try to play it. -laughs- In the same way with my electronics not working all the time, that’s why I like organs so much, writing for specific ones. I think often when I write for instruments these days, I really need to physically get a feel for them and play around myself.

In terms of being with an organ, it is quite intuitive in a way.

Completely! I have brought friends along and they say, “I don’t know what to do”; just put your foot down and pull something out and you’ll be good. -laughs- 

I looked at Huw’s [Morgan] Mainly Slow Organ Music Website and you’ve written two pieces for him…

Huw found the piece I had played with Catherine and asked if he could play that; and on the back of that, I ended up writing him a new work. I would like to do another, because it’s a nice excuse to just sit and write something. With the last piece, during the writing I wanted to really do everything that this organ can do — which results in all the stops being pulled out at the end, and then the organ being switched off.

In terms of the flaws of organs, that ties back into your interest in accidents and “in the moment” processes…

Exactly. It ties in with the improvisation that I do, my glitch research… I think I have written a bit about pipe organs and glitch because I think it’s a very similar way of thinking — even if the aesthetic of the sound that comes out of it is quite drastically different. 

What’s next for you, in terms of your PhD or new codes that you have been learning, what are some of the small breakthroughs that you’ve made and what do you hope that it is going to lead to?

I’ve got a few things coming out: me, Anthony J. Stillabower, and Thomas Carroll just released a tape called For Conifer, dedicated to a cat. -laughs- That trioI really love playing in; it’s me on reed organ, and then Tom on electronics and AJ does this mad guttaral vocal technique, where he tries to make two sounds at once. Then the B side is me and Tom as duo that I mentioned earlier. Then there’s the duo tape with pipe organ coming out on Infant Tree too. 

I think at the moment I’ve spent a lot of time behind my computer; just singing into my computer and seeing what breaks. I’m really hoping that in my second year, I can start making pieces where there are people hooked up to a really complex system. I think this might be a later project, but I’ve really liked the idea of trying to build some kind of shared instrument that involves both software and feedback — so having multiple players linked up to each other. I was thinking maybe even having this showcased in a workshop context having people’s outputs connected to each other and modulating with each other, and trying to control this kind of unstable system. That’s an ambitious project that I keep thinking about and will have to happen at some point, even if it isn’t in the immediate future. I think that is an interesting way to think about playing together, so I like that a lot.

Regarding working with more people, it’s expanding the numbers of that idea on these selected sounds, but then you would be working with more multiples of sounds. 

Yes, but multiples of sounds that you can’t control! I run workshops for teenagers and they’re quite comfortable just screaming into things sometimes. Being able to handle multiple people messing with something like that… I like that idea a lot, but that might form a later rendition of my research and seeing what these findings can do and build. At the very least my research will be helpful in what I can contribute to creative coding discourse, but defining totally new sounds, I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. I think it’s going to be a fun few years of exploration and letting people mess with things will help with that.

–

Learn more about Mia and her practice at:

• https://miawindsor.com/
• https://miawindsor.bandcamp.com/

References/Links:

• Jennifer Walshe and Dadabots – A Late Anthology of Early Music, Vol. 1 – Ancient to Renaissance (2020)
• William A. Sethares, Tuning Timbre Spectrum Scale (1998)
• Kaija Saariaho – Petals (1988)
• Michael Pisaro – Anabasis (2014)
• Rosa Menkman, The Glitch Moment(um) (2011)