Name: Henry Dagg
Nationality: British
Occupation: Sound sculptor, sound artist, engineer, composer, improviser
Current Release: THEN THROUGH NOW by Henry Dagg and Evan Parker, is available on CD/download from False Walls.



In terms of instrument design, tell me a bit about your inspirations, please. Are there instruments, composers or instrument builders who were an influence on you? 
 
In the 1980s, when I was using tape manipulation techniques in my compositions for BBC Radio and TV, my friend Dr. Bob Gilmore introduced me to the music and instruments of Harry Partch, and the American publication ‘Experimental Musical Instruments’ to which I became a regular subscriber.

I was very inspired by the Partch instruments and those created by many people featured in EMI, and I developed a mental vocabulary of acoustic principles which I’ve been using ever since in joining the search for new sounds and instruments, often by re-configuring existing acoustic means of generating and modifying sound.
 
Francesco Tristano told me: “The piano is a synthesizer.” I've never been entirely convinced about that statement. If you look at traditional instruments like the piano or violin, what's your take on them when it comes to their ability to realise your creative vision(s)? 
 
The piano is my go-to composing instrument, and I was trained on the cello, so I respect all traditional acoustic instruments for the fact that they have evolved and survived over centuries because they all do their job well in their own distinctive way.

Although I have built and used electronic instruments, my interest now lies mainly in developing new acoustic/electro-acoustic instruments, as I prefer their superior stage presence, human-sounding variability and expressive scope. Even if an instrument I design sounds unusual, I often try to give it an interface which can make use of similar skills to those learnt on a conventional instrument.
 
Where do ideas for instruments come from? Do you already have compositional ideas in mind when starting out? Is the instrument the beginning of a piece in a way?
 
Most of my instruments to date have been commissioned, because developing new instruments is very time-consuming, and needs funding, so their starting point tends to be the requirements of the commissioner, rather than my preferred ideas for a new instrument. I still have the freedom to design my own concept, but it’s not usually the sort of instrument I would design for my own use.

For years now, I’ve had a list of instruments waiting for the time to develop for my own use, which I hope to realise in the coming years. My ideas often start with an imagined sound, then a design process around achieving the method of producing and manipulating it, a similar thought process to using a modular synth. Yes, I think a new instrument can often become the starting point in the composition process.
 
If you take the joy and expressive potential of creating your own instruments versus composing music – how do these two compare? 
 
I find they have a lot in common ... they’re both very hard work, often frustrating, occasionally take blind alleys, but usually very rewarding when finished.  
 
What was building your first instrument like?
 
It was a modest effort, but I was only 9 at the time ... it was an electronic sound generator which had evolved through circuit-bending and had a wide range of weird sounds. I did my first school performance on it, which got a wildly enthusiastic response, probably inspiring me into further experiments.  
 
I wanted to get into the Sharpsichord for a moment. Having grown up in the Netherlands with a still living tradition of barrel organs, it always seemed to me that these are less instruments but performance devices, playing the notes as indicated in the score (or pins). With the Sharpsichord, these two aspects seem to be overlapping. How do you see that yourself?
 
The Sharpsichord was commissioned as a sound-sculpture intended to allow public visitors to the garden at Cecil Sharp House in London to realise their musical ideas by programming them on the cylinder which automated a harp, so that they and subsequent visitors could hear them.

As an automatic harp, I would consider it a performance device more than an instrument; while it does have a keyboard which allows real-time performance, it’s primarily a programming aid, and is not very playable, as each key requires considerable force due to its mechanical transmission, otherwise known as ‘tracker action’. The programmer can only control the pitch, timing and damping of the strings plucked, and even the timing is slightly off in places due to the mechanical nature of the programmer.

However, the effect of these errors is to make the performance sound more human and musical than it would with rigidly accurate timing.
 
There were many considerations for the Sharpsichord, but in the end, I was personally most taken by its gorgeous sound. Can you talk a bit about how you achieved it through design and materials?
 
Thanks for that! As a prototype instrument under enormous time pressure, I didn’t have the luxury of researching the tone-production elements of the harp in advance, so it could only be done when construction was well advanced, and I had strings coupled to the completed acoustic amplification system.

Much of the timbre of the instrument derives from the stainless-steel and dimensions of the sound-box and horns, but there was one variable factor which allowed considerable choice over the harmonic content of the tone; the position along the string where each jack would pluck it. I soon identified a point at the exact centre of the sounding length which produced a bell-like tone which seemed by far the best to me, although it meant producing a specially curved rail to mount the whole set.

Another unique aspect of its tone production is the vibrato, which is a result of the string-tensioning system. Harps are difficult to keep in tune even in ideal conditions, and this one had to stay in tune outdoors in all weathers and temperatures.

So instead of tensioning each string within the frame (like a piano), this harp has its strings tensioned outside the frame by a lever coupled to a weight, to provide constant tension. Under constant tension, the strings retain virtually constant pitch. But while the plectrum is deflecting the string, it increases the tension, lifting the weight very slightly. After the pluck, the weight drops, causing the lever/weight system to oscillate just enough to create the slight vibrato.  
 
How did the Sharpsichord end up with so many artists and on stage with Björk? 

As soon as it was capable of performing, I began arranging and programming well-known songs on it, while friends like Chris Wood and Jack Hues very kindly performed the vocals. Later on, Hannah Peel contacted me and asked to become involved, and we each chose and arranged a song, for which she provided the vocals. My friend Martin Goodsmith produced the lovely videos from these performances.

Then I got a call from Matthew Herbert, who had been shown the videos by my friend Nick Kenny, an artist and specialist in creating unique kitchens and bathrooms, who was working for Matthew at the time. He told me that he had shown them to Bjork, who would now like to record a song with the Sharpsichord for her Biophilia project.

[Read our Matthew Herbert interview]

When she came to the workshops to record the song, she asked if she could tour with it; after several months of work, I had converted it from a static sound-sculpture installation into a transportable instrument, and it performed with her at the Manchester International Festival, and Alexandra Palace, London.

Can you talk a bit about the relationship between the tools of creation and the music we make?

Over the years I have invested as much as possible in my woodworking and engineering workshops, but each individual tool is just part of a team of helpers providing a bridge between my ideas and the finished article.

The making of most instruments requires specially made tools, jigs and templates, which have to be retained in case they need a replacement part at some stage.
 
From the experience of designing your own instruments, what are elements of good instrument design?

As a musician, I try to optimise the design from the point of view of any other musician; to make it as playable, expressive, and (where tuning is critical) as stable in pitch as possible.

I also try to make form follow function, with as much visual interest and elegance as possible.
 
For your collaboration with Evan Parker, THEN THROUGH NOW, you worked with a new instrument called the Stage Cage. Do you regularly design instruments for specific performers? What made you decide that the Stage Cage made for a good fit for your work with Evan?

Several of my instruments have their origins in commissions which culminated in a single performance. The Stage Cage is unusual in that I designed and built it specifically for a performance with Evan, but without any external funding.

Prior to that, I had been doing short electronic improvised solos as part of a larger ensemble, using a selection of antique oscillators and tape recorders on stage, but when Evan suggested we perform a full-length concert together, I realised I needed a much more developed and expressive instrument.

While it relies mainly on pre-existing equipment, a lot of time went into developing a number of bespoke interface devices which transform it into an instrument with almost infinite possibilities.
 
When you're playing the Stage Cage with Evan, you're actually standing back to back to each other – not something most performers would prefer. How does this change the interaction, do you feel, and are these considerations for your instruments? 

It’s not ideal for either of us, but it’s probably the only practical arrangement for the typical stage of a smallish venue, where my instrument takes up most of the space.

Evan obviously needs to face the audience, but we both agree the audience will probably find the performance face of the Stage Cage a lot more interesting to watch than its spaghetti-looped backside with my face occasionally peering from behind. If the facilities allowed, I think it would be good to have Evan on a riser to one side of, and in line with the Stage Cage; I would still have my back to the audience, but we would both have good mutual visibility.

I think we each navigate our own contribution mainly by listening closely to each other, but visual contact would help too.

What was the idea behind reversing the reels while performing THEN THROUGH NOW? 

It was just an idea that occurred to me when I began to explore the newly-finished instrument; because a by-product of the tape delay and varispeed effects was a continuous recording, it seemed an interesting way to create the basis of a new soundscape, as it could be modified beyond recognition by reverse playback at varying speeds, through moveable tape heads, or processed by the electronics, along with new live sequences from me and Evan.

The track title attempts to describe this process.
 
Evan has worked with a huge range of performers and instrumentalists. What was his feedback about working with the Stage Cage, an entirely new performance tool? 

Evan’s experience of performing with improvisers using electronic and electro-acoustic sources goes back a long way.

The Stage Cage is an assembly of purely analogue equipment of a type which existed during the era of Music Concrete, so I don’t claim any great novelty for it. If it has any novelty, it may be the way it’s designed for live performance rather than the more usual studio engineered approach to electronic music of that time.

Evan’s reaction has always been very positive, and he views it as a new and quite different performing experience from previous electronic collaborations; I think he appreciates its potential for expressive dynamics and contrast.
 
Most new instruments quickly disappear from sight and sound again, even Partch's. Are you concerned about this? What do you think makes instruments relevant for longer periods of time? 

That’s quite true; I don’t have much confidence that my own instrument designs will inspire many attempts at reproduction, but ultimately, I see them as a means to provide an ensemble of new voices for my own music, rather than as a legacy in their own right.

One advantage they might have over some other experimental instruments is that they tend to use common existing interfaces, so playing techniques from conventional instruments can be transferred. I also stick mainly to the 12-ET scale, unlike Partch’s 43-division octave.

But I don’t have any expectations that any of them will become a mass-marketable product.