A Night (of entanglement) At The Opera

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I’m looking forward immensely to participating in the entangled arts-science event described below. (Thanks to Harry Moriarty (no relation), Impact Officer for the Faculty of Science, for the press release.)

Entanglement! An Entropic Tale is described as “the Romeo and Juliet of particle physics”. Join us at 7pm on the 27th November for this exciting and unusual performance representing physics (including Parallel Universes, Black Holes and Hawking Radiation) through an opera exploring life and death, creation and destruction, and the importance of living life in the present.

First performed at the Royal Birmingham Conservatoire’s Opening Festival earlier in the year, this is a one-off performance at The University of Nottingham Lakeside Arts.

The event begins with a an introduction by Gerardo Adesso of the Quantum Correlations Group in Mathematical Sciences and followed by a Q&A panel session with Gerardo Adesso, Philip Moriarty (School of Physics and Astronomy), and Roxanne Korda and Daniel Blanco (Infinite Opera).

Tickets are priced at £8 for students and can be booked via Lakeside Arts.

A Patter of Podcasts*

* Following extensive research — the best part of three whole minutes on Google — there shockingly appears not to be a collective noun for podcasts. Henceforth, I’m using “patter”. Given at least one OED definition of the word, I think it fits.

I’ve been very fortunate — if I were a religious man, I’d say “blessed” — to have had the support of not only the fantastic marketing team at Ben Bella (including, in particular, Lindsay Marshall) but a number of colleagues and friends when it comes to “plugging” that book I’ve recently written.

I don’t want to turn Symptoms… into a series of adverts for ‘Uncertainty to 11′ — and I won’t. Promise. I’ve got a stack of non-book-related posts coming up if I can ever find time — but I’ve done a series of podcasts and interviews recently that I’ve enjoyed so much I wanted to say a public thank you to all those involved (including Lindsay for setting up and coordinating the majority.) I’ve already blogged about The Aussie Pink Floyd pinkcast and The Death Hangout, and there are a few other podcasts to be uploaded/broadcast in future that I’ll blog about (briefly) in due course, but for now…

The Unmade Podcast

Unmade…” is the brainchild of Brady Haran, with whom I’ve worked just a little over the last decade or so, and Tim Hein. The premise is that they chat about ideas for podcasts that might get made, but probably never will. Occasionally, they invite a guest or two on to join in the conversation and come up with their own ideas for podcast themes. Not only did Brady and Tim let me do that — although, as I noted in the podcast, I can’t claim credit for all of the suggestions I made — but they very kindly let me waffle on at length about that bloody book…

Ikonokast

Although the Ikonokast podcast with Greg Laden and his co-host Mike Haubrich started off on that Spinal Tap-inspired theme, we diverged from there quite quickly and chatted about a much broader variety of academic (and non-academic) concerns than just the metal-quantum interface…

Coincidentally, that piece of metal that opens up the Ikonokast conversation (and closes the Unmade podcast) is something called The Root Of All Things that I recorded a while ago as background music for a video. I’m hoping to find time to expand this short piece, with the help of a few musician (and scientist-cum-musician) friends, to a full-blown nano-themed sci-fi metal track over the course of the next year or so. (After all, there’s EPSRC funding to do so.) For now, however, that piece has found its place as backing music for some of Pete McPartlan’s wonderfully quirky animations and art…

The Quantum Podcast

height_90_width_90_15817639_1066803776798865_1271 The Uncertainty Principle and Metal

Maria, the host, is a second year undergraduate physics student who explains a variety of topics covered in her degree via her podcast. We had a fun time discussing everything from Devin Townsend to string theory and the state-of-the-art in theoretical physics. The latter is a theme I’m going to return to very soon here at Symptoms… (and elsewhere) in the context of Sabine Hossenfelder‘s impassioned, sharp, and brilliant critique of the state of 21st century physics, “Lost In Math“. If you have any interest at all in physics, you owe it to yourself to go get Hossenfelder’s book.

Sci-gasm

I spent most of this podcast trying to stop laughing. Byrne and Wade, your genial hosts, are both very funny guys. Unfortunately, when tasked, I failed spectacularly to come up with a musician joke on the spot. Usually I fall back on one of the drummer classics — “How can you tell a drummer’s at the door? The knocking speeds up” — but it was clearly too early in the morning and/or insufficient caffeine had been imbibed.


A big thank-you to Brady, Tim, Greg, Mike, Maria, Byrne, and Wade for the invitation to join them for a natter.

Metallizing and Melodifying Phi

Apologies for the radio silence on the blog of late. I’ll be posting more regularly in the coming days/weeks. For now, this one is a bit of a blast from the past. Over six years ago (gulp), Brady Haran and I collaborated with the talented and prolific Dave Brown (boyinaband) on a suitably metallized rendition of a fundamental constant — the golden ratio, otherwise known as φ

MoriartyAs I’ve said during various talks about the metal-maths-physics interface (including this) over the years since that video was uploaded , some people buy a Porsche for their mid-life crisis. Mine involved attempting to reconnect with my — substantially less follicularly challenged, see image to right for pictorial evidence — halcyon heavy metal days…

At the time of uploading the video, I wrote the first blog post below. It’s been loitering at Brady’s, now discontinued, original blog for quite some time. I’m reblogging it here, along with another post from many moons ago on a more sedate rendering of φ (and its cousin τ).


Metallizing Phi

13 July 2012

Here are all the gory details for the musicians amongst you…

Guitar tuning: Bb F Bb Eb G C

(This is traditional “drop D” tuning, i.e. D A E D G B E, dropped two tones in order to approximate the math metal/Djent sound without a seven string guitar.).

We stick almost exclusively to riffs derived from the Bb harmonic minor scale (although the chorus is based around the natural Bb minor scale)

I used Guitar Rig to record the riffs (both clean and effected) which I then sent to Dave who used his studio wizardry and musical acumen to arrange and structure the song. This involved quite a number of e-mail exchanges to hone the structure of the song during which Dave had to rein in my old school metal tendencies on more than one occasion…

Riff-by-riff

0:00. We kick off with a clean picked piece which looks like this:

intro_riff_tab.gif

The digits of phi are “embedded” in the notes played on the 4th string. I make use of octaves and finger picking to embellish the riff.

0:08 Dave comes in with sixteenth note “chugs” (on Bb) which are timed to match the digits of phi (as explained in the video).

00:16 All hell breaks loose. Same idea as for ‘chug’ pattern starting at 0:08, except this time  matched by kick drums. (All drum programming by Dave – visit his website for tutorials on how he lays down those impressive drum tracks).

00:40 The riff for verse 1 is basically power chords given by the digits 161803398, as follows (where ^ represents a higher octave):

1 – Bb

6 – Gb

1 – Bb

8 – ^Bb

0 – ^Db

3 – Db

3 – Db

9 – ^C

8 – ^Bb

8 – ^Bb

00:55 The chorus is a similar idea but this time in Bb minor (not harmonic minor).

1 – Bb

6 – Gb

1 – Bb

8 – ^Bb

0 – [rest]

3 – Db

3 – Db

9 – ^C

8 – ^Bb

8 – ^Bb

7 – Ab

1:11 Here we switch to ‘encoding’ the [1 + sqrt (5)]/2 representation of phi in the riff. It’s a much more old school metal riff  and involves lots of use of the open sixth string (first note of the Bb harmonic minor scale) to incorporate ‘1’.

The digits of sqrt (5) are then encoded as shown in the tablature below.

I wanted to get a somewhat Mastodon-esque feel here so used lots of octaves (and slides into octaves).

I tried to down-pick as much as possible to ‘drive’ the riff . The ½ of (1+sqrt(5))/2 is built in as half-time on the drums.

sqrt5_riff_tab.gif

1:27. I very much wanted to have a heavily Tool-influenced riff in the song. Tool are math metal  pioneers and, as many of those who have watched the “Golden Ratio – Making a Math Metal Anthem” video have pointed out, their song Lateralus has lyrics which are based around the Fibonacci sequence. So, the following is my ‘homage’ to Tool…

Tool-y_riff_tab.gif

The digits of phi are encoded in the notes on the sixth and fifth strings and I ‘pedal’ around Bb notes on the third, fourth, and fifth strings.

2:15 As explained by Dave in the video, his riff here is also derived from (1 + root 5 )/ 2.

Sqrt (5) is embedded in the number of chugs again and the drums are half time. The “1” is a sustained and ringing Bb note.

Lyrics

Irrational!

Real but uncountable

Non-transcendental!

At the root of the problem

Patterns will!

Emerge from the equation

Golden Angle!

Sprials out of control

 

Chorus: The proportion is divine, you’ll find your way

To Phi (to Phi) (to Phi)

The ratio defined, you can’t deny

It’s Phi

 

The five-fold way

Forbidden symmetry

Crossing points define

Demonic  geometry

[Verse 1 is fairly self-explanatory.Verse 2  above is a little more obscure. It refers to the pentagram which, of course, is a key piece of metal ‘iconography’. The verse refers to five-fold symmetry which is directly linked to phi.].

Phi = root(1 + Phi = root(1 +Phi = root(1 +Phi = root(1 +…

[This stems from the equation φ = sqrt (1 + φ) which, of course, is recursive – hence the looping lyric). 

1.618033988749894

8482045868343656

3811772030917980


The Tau of Phi

To accompany Numberphile’s Tau of Phi video…

The music is here:

For some unfathomable reason, not everyone is a fan of heavy metal so I thought it might be helpful to compose a piece of ‘mathemusic’ which didn’t involve growling, screaming, and/or distorted, detuned guitars. If nothing else, I thought it might win Brady back a few  of those subscribers who unsubscribed from Numberphile in protest when our Golden Ratio Song was uploaded.

There are, of course, a number of great pieces of music out there whose composers have used fundamental mathematical constants as their basis (long before we decided to ‘metallize’ phi in the way we did). ViHart’s “A Song About A Circle Constant” and Michael Blake’s “What tau sounds like” are great examples and highly recommended. And both Tool (with ‘Lateralus’) and After The Burial (with “Pi”) have written songs directly inspired by constants in Nature. (More on Tool below).

But what do we get if we mix melodies and riffs based around a number of different constants? This was one of the motivations for the “Tau of Phi(bonacci)” piece. I was intrigued as to how a piece inspired by the digits of both tau and phi would sound.

Here’s how the piece of music works. (I used Audacity for all of the recording, effects, and mixing).

0:00 – 0:17. Opens with a gently looping piano melody derived from the first eight digits of tau mapped onto a Bb harmonic minor scale. (The same scale as we used for the math metal song). The sound in the background is a combination of strings and a crescendo involving Bb octaves which I then time-reversed. The strings throughout the piece are based on the digits of tau.

0:18 – 0:43. The tau riff continues to play. The chords underlying this are an interpretation on piano of the opening of the math metal Golden Ratio song. I take some ‘liberties’ here, however, and first play the sequence: “1…6…1” three times in a row, (starting at 0:18, 0:27, and at 0:36). That is, I repeat the first three digits of phi three times. This adds to the overall ‘atmosphere’ of the piece. (What’s important, I feel, is to use the constants to inspire the composition, rather than to slavishly reproduce the sequence of digits. Music and maths (and physics!) are all about creativity.)

0:45 – 0:51. Chords represent the “8” and “0” of phi.

0:52 – 1:00. …and then the “3..3..9..8” of phi.

1:02 seconds (and ~ 0.8 of a second!) – “Reprise” of opening tau riff on guitar and piano..

1:09 Tool’s “Lateralus” riff (downtuned to Bb and played on electric piano, rather than guitar). There were very many comments about “Lateralus”, and its relationship to the Fibonacci series, under the video for our golden ratio song. I felt it only right to ‘allude’ to Lateralus here. Timing of riff not coincidental (for Tool aficionados…).

1:20 ViHart, in her wonderfully crystal-clear vocal tones, sings 6..2..8..3..1..8..5..3. [Lots of delay and reverb courtesy of Audacity’s standard effects base].

I sampled the numbers from Vi’s “Oh No,  Pi Politics Again” video.

…except for the “6”. Unfortunately, she didn’t sing the digit “6” in that video so I add to resort to sampling her rendition of “6” from her tau song. But in her tau song, she’s singing along with a guitar. This meant quite a bit of manipulation of the frequencies of the sample to attempt to isolate the vocal.

[Warning – ‘tech-y’ musical bit:

ViHart sings the notes in her songs/melodies in the key of C major. But the music in the “Tau of Phi(bonacci)” is based around Bb minor. My first thought was to transpose ViHart’s vocals down two tones (i.e. from C to Bb major). But she ended up sounding not too unlike Barry White.

Not good.

So I instead transposed her vocals up a semitone to C#. C# major is the tonic major key of Bb minor so shifting Vi’s vocals up a semitone (a) doesn’t modify her overall vocal tone too much, and (b) works harmonically (in principle!).]

1:28 – 1:37. Piece fades out with tau riff gently looping on guitar.


Coda

A few years later I collaborated with another exceptionally talented musician (and physics teacher), Alan Stewart, on this piece of maths-influenced instrumental prog rock. (I learnt so very much from Alan about how melody and harmony work.)

Alan’s original version without my everything-one-louder-than-everything-else guitar on top (and with a full explanation of the links to the maths) is here:

 

The Aussie Pink Floyd Podcast #4

(…or should that be The Aussie Pinkcast?)

Last Tuesday I visited my friend Dave Domminney Fowler, guitarist with the Australian Pink Floyd, singer, keyboardist, drummer, songwriter, sound engineer, computer programmer, digital audio enthusiast, MIDI expert, self-confessed geek, and all-round obscenely talented bloke, at his home-cum-recording-studio in Sidcup, just outside London, to record a couple of podcasts.

Dave and I had a blast…

Not only is Dave an exceptional musician, but as I’ve mentioned before, he could very easily steal the mantle of “nicest guy in rock” from a certain Dave Grohl. He and I spent six or so hours playing guitar and nattering at length over copious amounts of tea. (It should be said that Dave has one or two guitars at his disposal…

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…and that’s certainly not all of ’em.)

The first of those podcasts, #4 in the Australian Pink Floyd series, was uploaded yesterday. Here’s the YouTube version, but it’s also available via a stream at the Aussie Pink Floyd site and via iTunes. Be warned, it gets a little bit “physics-y” in the first half — Dave and I are both massive Fourier analysis fans so we got perhaps (possibly, maybe) a little too carried away by the technical detail. It all settles down in the second half…

The second podcast was for Dave’s upcoming new (and yet unrevealed…) project. This featured discussions about social media (and social media shaming), tribalism, the Peterson-Harris ‘debate’ that Dave attended the night before, thunderf00t, sexism, and the greatest ever guitarists. (Some of Dave’s choices really surprised me. A man of eclectic tastes…) And that was just for starters. If and when the podcast appears online, I’ll certainly blog about it!

Thank you, Dave, for such a great day in Sidcup. (And there’s a sentence I never thought I’d write…)

“Think Graham Norton meets the Broom Cupboard. In space.”

SpaceShed_2.jpg

It’s not every day you get to sit down and have a chat with someone who hacked their way into space…

…but I had the immense pleasure of doing just that yesterday. Pictured above, very helpfully holding a copy of that book I’ve been (head)banging on about a little of late (see “Other Scribblings” in the sidebar to the right or here if you’re reading on a mobile device), is the powerhouse of science communication — no, let’s make that science entertainment — that is the inimitable Jon Spooner. To whet your appetite, here’s a one minute clip of Jon — and his colleagues, Flight Dynamics Officer Simon Perkins and astronaut Little Jon — in action at the Manchester Science Festival last year. (Jon told me that he and Simon have had a pretty hectic schedule over the last year, having done eight festivals in twelve months).

The quote from a parent included in that video,

It was amazing, brilliantly educational. It brought a tear to my eye.

neatly sums up exactly the reaction that my fourteen year old daughter, Niamh, and I had to Jon’s “How I Hacked My Way Into Space” tour de force at the Blue Dot Festival at Jodrell Bank this weekend. (You’re not getting any spoilers here, however. If you want to know just how Jon hacked his way off our pale blue dot, you’re going to have to go along and experience the adventures of the Unlimited Space Agency for yourself. There’s a list of tour dates here.)

SpaceShed_!.jpg

Before Jon’s high octane performance at 2 pm yesterday afternoon, I was delighted to be one of the guests for his Space Shed interview series. The title of the blog post you’re reading is the description Jon gave me yesterday of the Space Shed: “Think Graham Norton meets the Broom Cupboard. In space.” (Those of you who are Irish or British are likely to be fairly familiar with both of those cultural references. For those elsewhere in the world — and since its reboot, Symptoms… has attracted readers from 70 countries — here’s a brief introduction to Graham Norton. Despite his incredibly successful career as a chat show host and presenter, however, this performance remains for me his finest hour:

And here’s The Broom Cupboard.)

Before I reveal just what we nattered about yesterday — and as a convivial, clever and charming host, Jon could certainly give Mr. Norton a run for his money — I guess I should explain what I was doing at Blue Dot in the first place.

…all the way to The ‘Bank

The eagle-eyed Sixty Symbols viewers among you — and I know that at least some of those who read Symptoms… posts have watched a Sixty Symbols video or two — may have noticed that the schedule for the Space Shed also included my colleagues Tony Padilla and Clare Burrage, both of whom have contributed to Brady Haran‘s YouTube channels. (As I write this, Clare is in the middle of her Space Shed interview. If you’re having even an infinitesimal amount of the fun I had yesterday, Clare, you’ll be having a blast!) Tony, Clare, and myself weren’t the only Sixty Symbols people involved: Meghan (Gray) and Becky (Smethurst) were also at Blue Dot. Indeed, it was Meghan who was not only responsible for our invitation to Blue Dot but who communicated with the “powers that be” in terms of sorting out the logistics (including travel) related to not only the Space Shed appearances but a Sixty Symbols panel discussion in the Star Pavillion on Friday evening. More on that soon. But, first, some thanks.

I jumped (over-)enthusiastically at the chance to contribute to Blue Dot because its innovative blend of music and science really presses all my buttons (or, errrm, turns my dials to 11. I’ll get me coat…). That book (y’know the one…over there…sidebar to the right) and this rather noisy ‘math metal’ song  are two examples of my love of music-physics-maths crossover, but there are others, including this rather more sedate approach to merging numbers and music and this discussion of correlations and fluctuations in drum beats. It turns out that Meghan also has a long-standing interest in music-science crossover: as a high school student she wrote a computer program to produce music in the style of Bach. (Mr. Haran, if you’re reading, I, for one, would be really keen to see a video on this…)

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank Meghan publicly and profusely for sorting out the invitation to Blue Dot. (Well, as public as it gets when it comes to the audience for Symptoms… I appreciate you both tuning in again). To say I thoroughly enjoyed myself at the festival would be a massive understatement. In addition to the wonderful atmosphere, the great music, and the incredible range of science, I got to wear one of these “passes”:

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“Artist”.

As a failed and now-follicularly-challenged musician, this made me ridiculously happy, not least because sitting across the way from Niamh and me at lunch yesterday was Gary Numan. Gary f**king Numan. This guy. An inspiration for so many musicians and bands across a wide range of genres, Numan was playing the Lovell Stage at Blue Dot 2018.)

OK, back to that Sixty Symbols panel I mentioned. Here’s how it looked mid-event…

…and this is how we felt directly afterwards:

The panel was great fun, with the Q&A session (following our five minute presentations) being a real highlight. A thoroughly engaged, and engaging, audience asked us a range of questions on topics including, but certainly not limited to, the science we do, the music we like, the YouTube videos with Brady, and women in science. (There’s a certain contingent online who get very, very cross indeed at even the briefest mention of sexism and related issues. If you’re one of those who feels the red mist descending already, this trigger warning may prove helpful. (Having said that, they tend not to read too deeply so almost certainly won’t have got this far into the post.)) As a dyed-in-the-wool experimentalist and a lowly squalid state physicist, I especially enjoyed the light-hearted spat between Clare and Tony on the current state of string theory towards the end of our session.

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My Space Shed interview/Q&A the following day similarly touched on a wide variety of themes, with many perceptive and brilliant questions from both Jon and the audience. (Another big thank you at this point to UNSA’s Flight Commander Alison McIntyre for making sure that the flight was a success and for all of her behind the scenes organisation. Thank you, Alison!)

Jon and I had decided beforehand that we’d give a prize of a free copy of the book — yes, I know, the plugs are getting tedious now. That was the last one. Promise. — to those who asked the best questions. In the end, all eight of those who asked a question got a copy because it was impossible to pick winners. Two that stuck with me were from Evie (aged 7), “Where do the atoms go when there’s an earthquake?” and Oliver, a slightly older (i.e. age > 7) and rather more hirsute PhD student: “If the Schrodinger equation were a riff, what riff would it be?” How much more metal could that question get? None. None more metal.

(By the way, Evie, if you ever read this, I’m so very, very sorry for not concentrating when I wrote on your book so that what I’d written made no sense (because I’d left out a word.) I don’t multi-task well — talking and writing at the same time overtaxes my brain! Thank you for pointing out the mistake to me and giving me the opportunity to fix it. And thanks, of course, for your brilliant question!)

After the Space Shed Q&A, I asked Niamh how it went; did I embarrass her? “No, Dad, you didn’t embarrass me. Well, not entirely.”

What greater accolade can a father expect from his teenage daughter?

“Not entirely embarrassed”.

I’ll take that.

Welcome To The Machine

All this machinery. Making modern music. Can still be open-hearted.

From “The Spirit Of Radio”, Rush. Lyrics by Neil Peart.

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On Tuesday evening I had the immense pleasure of attending The Australian Pink Floyd gig at the Royal Concert Hall in Nottingham. It was a remarkable concert — stunning musicianship, awesome (literally) visuals, and beyond-impressive interpretations of Pink Floyd classics.

What made the gig extra special for me was that I had the opportunity to spend quite a bit of time backstage at the invitation of the Aussie Floyd’s guitarist, David Domminney Fowler. Despite his hectic touring schedule, Dave finds time to pursue interests in physics, maths, and the music-maths-physics interface. For example, he’s worked with Sean Riley on the Computerphile YouTube channel, including this fascinating video on translating visual information to music:

I’ve worked with Sean for a recent Sixty Symbols project and have similarly thoroughly enjoyed collaborating with him on a Computerphile video in the not-too-distant past, so was delighted when I got an e-mail asking if I’d be interested in meeting up with Dave when the band played Nottingham. I, of course, jumped at the chance.

Dave talked me through his impressive guitar rig (and variety of guitars) before the gig, and even generously gave me the opportunity to try out a few of his ‘axes’ (including his beloved Telecaster; I’d not played a Telecaster before). What particularly struck me was Dave’s forensic attention to detail in capturing the Floyd sound. Some of this was due to the signal processing — there were a number of classic analog pedals and kit on the way from the guitar to the amp — but the vast majority came from Dave’s exceptionally tasteful and accomplished playing. You can see what I mean in this video:

 If you’ve not yet seen The Australian Pink Floyd, I thoroughly recommend them. I’ve run out of superlatives to describe ’em. Trust me, you won’t be disappointed -Dave’s Comfortably Numb solo is worth the ticket price alone.

Moreover, Mr. Fowler certainly gives Dave Grohl a run for his money in the “nicest man in rock” stakes. Maybe it’s a Dave thing…