While wandering through the ether of the world of Youtube, I stumbled upon some old videos of me performing, and of the songs I recall singing, the one I distinctly remember admiring the composition of most was “The I Love You Song” from The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. This endearingly silly and heartfelt musical recounts the titular event occurring in an unnamed part of America, with the spelling bee’s young participants bemoaning awkward adolescence on the brink of adulthood as they struggle to win. Although I’ve never seen a live production, there are a great many scattered across Youtube, and I highly recommend that you waste an afternoon watching one with something unhealthy to eat. Either way, this musical is one of my favorites, showcasing great stylistic variety in its music, a great many fun characters, audience participation and humor alongside drama in a surprisingly compelling plot.
A photo from the Pagett Production of the show.
Of all the songs in the show, however, this one struck me more than the others for several reasons. Firstly, it is the only one with any serious use of a minor tonality – the song meanders back and forth between sweet verses in D major and a driving refrain in B melodic minor. Secondly, it is one of the only musical theater songs I can think of that seriously uses polyphony – beginning with the second refrain, the melodic lines of the mother and father intertwine beautifully, and by the third refrain, the character of Olive adds a line on top of them both. Thirdly, the different sections of the song are distinct enough from one another that they are separately memorable – a floating, eerie opening, sweet verses in D major, driving refrains in B melodic minor with polyphonic vocal lines.
The most important reason I can think of, however, is that the song has a distinct reason for existing, and existing in the fashion that it does. The song clearly and efficiently demonstrates the emotional complexity of the show’s protagonist – who, until now, has been a pleasant and mild-mannered enigma – and has a clear reason for beginning where it begins and ending where it ends – Olive’s fantasy about her parents beginning when she is instructed to spell the word “chimerical” and ending once she spells it. So, I hope you’ve enjoyed my little spiel about the song and show, and please enjoy this video from my freshman year (a long time ago, yikes) when I performed it with my school’s musical theater club Curtain Call! For those of you that can’t tell, by the way, I am the dude in the song.
It has come to my attention that I simply don’t have the energy, willpower or time to write a post every single day. It is unfortunate, but true, and thus for this reason I shall reduce my output to Technical Tuesdays, Theatrical Thursdays, and Extraneous Sundays, and shall write twelve sentences for each of those posts. So onward shall we go!
The circle of fifths was originally conceptualized by the Ionian Greek philosopher Pythagoras (c.570-c.490) when he began to dissect the mathematics of sound, resulting in a tuning system that was built off of the interval of the fifth. Many twisting, turning years later, French Baroque composer Jean-Philippe Rameau (1683-1764) published a treatise in 1722 entitled wrote “The Treatise on Harmony, Containing the Principles of Composition” in which he specified the tradition rules of harmony that Western Art music recognizes as its basis even today. One of the most central components of the principles of composition that Rameau specified was that of the circle of fifths – the most basic, predictable and “natural” of the harmonic progressions, in accordance with the tuning system the West came to know. It is the following:
I – IV – viiio – iii – vi – iv – V – I
In C Major it would be the following:
C – F – B diminished – Em – Am – Dm – G – C
The circle of fifths progression.
But why just use a circle of fifths? True, the consequential circles that using other intervals as a base would not result in chords that had the same functions, but what if alternate scales – outside of the Ionian (regular major) or Aaolien (natural minor) were used? Take, for example, this “Circle of Fouths” using a 5th Mode Melodic Minor Scale (a major scale with a b6 and b7)?
I – v – iio – IV+ – iiio – VII – iv
In C Major it would be the following:
C – Gm – D diminished – Ab augmented – E diminished – Bb – Fm
Why a circle of fourths paired with the 5th Mode Melodic Minor Scale, you ask? This is because, when the circle of fourths progression is followed, it concludes with a plagal (IV – I) cadence, which can be strengthened and given more pull to the major tonic through a minor iv, as it now includes two notes (not just one, as per the major IV) that are half steps from notes in the tonic. So, dear reader, break free of the chains that Rameau bequeathed unto us all those years ago and break new ground with me! Give the “circle of fourths”, paired with the 5th Mode Melodic Minor, a shot and see what you can come up with.
Written in the 1990’s by British playwright Caryl Churchill (b.1938), The Skriker is the tale of the eponymous, shape-shifting fairy that is intent on destroying the world of humans – and in particular, the lives of two teenage mothers named Lily and Josie – in revenge for the destruction that humanity has caused the natural world she rules. Filled with fragmented fairy tongue and sinister wordplay, the show is a rollercoaster of mythological beasts and social commentary, and when Sarah McKinley, the senior directing this production, approached me about writing music for the show, I was immediately drawn to the script’s distinctive writing. The incidental music – meaning the music that would play between scenes and would otherwise accompany the show without being the primary focus – and the single song that would occur in the Skriker’s Underworld would, therefore, need to be just as seemingly circuitous and illogical, yet purposefully atmospheric and structured on its own unorthodox terms.
A scene in the Underworld from The Erickson Theater’s 2012 production in Seattle.
This is where studying atonal music in Music Theory IV and Music History II: The Classical to the Romantic Periods came in unexpectedly handy. Pioneered and brought into the public sphere in the late 19th century by Post-Romantic-era composers such as Arnold Schoenberg, atonal music has no pitch center that the music leads to, and thus, no musical goal of the sort that European audiences are so accustomed to. As atonal composers of the 19th and 20th centuries toyed with this unpopular concept, a new form of structuring this music arose and was entitled “twelve-tone theory” due to its primary tenant: all twelve of the kinds of pitches in the Western chromatic scale must be used by a musical line before any can be repeated. Through this system, new forms of clarity and purpose and arose in atonal music so as to create focus in the music’s creation, just as the many monologues that the Skriker has in the play are seemingly pointless but hold a unique sort of clarity.
Although I did not employ atonality or twelve-tone technique directly while writing for the Skriker, learning about this sort of order-from-chaos thinking became progressively clearer to me. Of particular use was the melodrama “Pierrot Lunaire”, a song cycle written by Schoenberg in 1912 and performed by the sole vocalist in the “Sprechstimme” style in vogue at the time of its genesis. While often seen at first glance as exhaustingly chaotic, this song cycle’s construction is by no means frivolous. Each poem is of the same type of poetic structure (a rondel), which entails lines of importance repeating themselves in each song, and despite the modern use of atonality, a great number of the songs are in a popular form from the Baroque period, such as a fugue or rondo. The numbers three, seven and thirteen are repeatedly given importance, with the song cycle encompassing 21 songs (the product of seven and three), each poem containing 13 lines, and a great many songs using seven-note motifs, among other techniques used to give numbers significance. A link to a full performance of this song cycle can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bd2cBUJmDr8
And so here is the piece that opens the entire show, as the Skriker ascends to her throne in preparation for her labyrinthine soliloquy:
Counterpoint is the art and technique of the manner in which interdependent musical lines interact with one another, according to rules determined by some very dead men, including Northern European Renaissance Composer Josquin des Prez (1450-1521), Italian Renaissance Composer Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina (1524-1594), and the king of composers, German Baroque composer J.S. Bach (1685-1750). For those of you that don’t know, allow me to inform you: COUNTERPOINT IS HARD. Counterpoint is to composition as grammar is to language – but not just normal grammar, but instead grammar concerning the exact conjugation of a Spanish verb in the conditional past tense if two chickens were present but only one of them was on crack. It is a very detail-oriented and exact study which simultaneously infuriates and entrances me, nit-picker that I am. Regardless, it is absolutely one of the most important and informative music classes that I’ve taken, and has very much taught me to write compositions horizontally (with regard to the flow of individual lines) as well as vertically (with regard to the manner in which the individual lines line up to harmonize at any particular moment).
Music 401 in a nutshell.
Here, I present to you my final project for my Music 401 Counterpoint class: a three part fugue for alto saxophone, tenor saxophone, and euphonium – the three instruments played by my Puget Sound peers Minna Stelzner (’16, Music Education), Brady McOwen (’16, Bachelor of Arts in Music) and Steven Abashima (’16, Music Education). A basic break down of the fugue is the following:
1) Present a motive (a recognizable musical idea) in one voice (called the leader) and have the other voices (called followers) repeat it back – the first follower in the key of the dominant, the second in the tonic.
2) Take a section of the motive and toy around with it until you land in a new tonality (usually one within one sharp or flat of the original).
3) Repeat step 1 in the new tonality.
4) Repeat steps 1 through 3 as many times as desired, until ending back in the very first key.
I swear upon the big balloons of Katy Perry’s birthday, the days seriously flit past me as if they don’t want me to know that they’re passing by! I realize, however, that if I don’t have enough time to write fully-fleshed out blogs every day during my vacation, then I certainly won’t have enough time for them during the school year. Therefore, I will instead limit myself to eight sentences per blog, excluding Technical Tuesdays, Theatrical Thursdays and Extraneous Sundays, during which I shall limit myself to sixteen sentences. That way, I don’t have to write too much, you don’t have to read too much, and I am forced to limit myself to the most important points.
Loving you unconditionally sounds like a lot of work. Can I opt out in favor of alternate Tuesdays?
That’s already been four sentences, so I’ll get to the point: again, rather than an actual composition, here is an arrangement of Katy Perry’s “Unconditionally”, performed by my glorious a cappella group Underground Sound and featuring Kaylene Barber (University of Puget Sound ’16, Computer Science Major) as the soloist. The things that I most like about this arrangement are the constant movement and momentum of all lines, the changes in texture through a variety voicings and phonems used, and the antiphony between sopranos and tenors and the soprano descent I added at the end. I wish that the bassline didn’t have to be so repetitive, but alas, thus is pop music! And so, with my remaining sentence, I wish you a happy whatever-day-you-read-this, and I implore you to look up Underground Sound – Puget Sound’s Only Mixed A Cappella Group – on Facebook.
Originally premiering on Broadway in 1984, Sunday In the Park With Georgeis a musical with music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim (one of my idols and coincidentally a member of my fraternity Beta Theta Pi) and book by James Lapine that tells the story of the French Post-Impressionist painter Georges Seurat as he struggles with his relationship with his lover Dot and with the creation of his masterpiece “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte”. Both with respect to the plot conventions used and the music, the musical is strange – oddly split into two, somewhat self-contained acts set a century apart, and minimalist in its continuous unity through the use of a spare few musical ideas that b;end into one another. It’s an odd play that lacks most traditional song structures and truly only has two three-dimensional characters, focusing primarily on George’s relationship with Dot and with his painting, yet both when it premiered and now the show connects to its audience in an unusually direct and sincere way.
Seurat’s “An Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte”
An example from the musical that I find particularly affecting is that of the song “We Do Not Belong Together”. Occurring toward the end of Act I, Dot, after leaving George for a man that she believes she can have a better life with and discovering that she is carrying George’s child, confronts George. Opening with a two-chord motive that occurs quite frequently throughout the musical to represent conflict (F9/A-Em7add11/G), “We Do Not Belong Together” winds its way through a musical theater style of something like recitative, the speech-like, dialogue driven sections of opera that usually precede a full melody. This alone is an unusual aspect of the musical, as most musicals will leave plot-driving text to the dialogue and leave the expression of single, fixed emotions or emotional states to the songs. But vaguely in imitation of opera, Sondheim writes the opening argument between the leads as an act of musical imitation, Dot opening with the figure and George attempting to reason with her using an approximation of the same figure.
It is after George has said his final thoughts – “I am what I do, which you knew, which you always knew… which I thought you were a part of” – that Dot seizes the final word, and both music and words are stripped down to her raw, honest statements. The contrast of the intelligence of the musical construction with the simplicity of Dot’s words is what I find so moving and beautiful; the layered motives with the conversational lyrics; the rolled chords, reminiscent of the show’s “creation of art” opening motive, alongside Dot’s cry of “We should have belonged together”.
In addition, this is one of the only musical theater songs I can think of that depicts the pain of an unhealthy relationship. Throughout Act I, the audience has witnessed George dismissing, degrading and neglecting his lover to the point that she leaves him, yet when she demands an explanation or apology, he refuses and fails to understand the imbalance of power present in their relationship. Both emotionally and socially speaking, he calls the shots, deciding if and when they should marry, if and when he shall give her attention, making her an object or ideal – anything but a person. As the lyrics say, he is complete on his own – emotionally as such a hermit and socially as a man – while she is incomplete regardless – emotionally dependent, and a pregnant woman in need of someone to give her stability. George can abandon Dot and their unborn child to be alone with his painting, but Dot must marry and raise their child no matter what the father does.
Matt Horohoe poses as George in the Mad Cow Theater’s 2012 production of the show.
Toward the end of the song, she asserts the fact that she is as much deserving of respect as a person as he is, saying that special as he is, no one is George, but she, Dot, is special too and no one can replace her either. Yet this ending is tainted by the fact that, although George is the primary cause of her suffering, Dot must be the one to bear the brunt of the relationship’s aftermath, raise their child and change her life. Suffering is not, as Sondheim demonstrates, a two way street; George can hurt Dot, but she cannot hurt him back in the same way.
Her are links to a video of the song from Le Chatelet’s production () alongside a video of the full show (). Just because I like you, I’ll also throw in a link to an in depth analysis of the entire show: (http://www.newlinetheatre.com/sundaychapter.html). Enjoy!
I shall be a wicked and trickstery blogger and, rather than posting a true composition of mine and my respective thoughts, I shall instead post an arrangement I made for my kickass a cappella group Underground Sound. This is a mashup of Miley Cyrus’ “Wrecking Ball” with Adele’s “Turning Tables”, two songs that fit together, more than anything, because of their similar melodic, harmonic and thematic traits – both in a natural minor mode, both entirely diatonic, both with choruses containing repetitive melodic material and both concerning the dissolution of an unhealthy relationship. Some brief, scattered thoughts on my own arrangement:
-The songs were originally in D Minor for “Wrecking Ball” and C Minor for “Turning Tables”, but I set it in B minor so as to better accommodate the belting tessiatura of the group’s female members, as I generally don’t enjoy writing female belters anything to fully belt above a Bb4.
-I love the creepy effect of singers of the same sex singing in octaves, as the women dowhile singing “Don’t you ever say…”
-I had great trepidation about writing an a cappella arrangement of even part of “Turning Tables”, as the piano part is so consistently arpeggiating chords, which is not a very singable activity. To remedy this, I wrote each part a repeating melodic figure that adjusted to suit the harmony with polyrhythm between parts, to imitate the swelling, turbulent nature of the original song’s piano part.
-During the bridge, when the two songs finally begin to overlap, I borrowed the technique of doubling the octave(s) between the outermost parts, so that the outer voices (sopranos and basses) are ever so briefly singing the same line two octaves apart while the inner voices (altos and tenors) sing the melody and a respective harmony.
-I’m happy that I kept the momentary antiphony between the lower voices (altos and basses) and upper voices (sopranos and tenors) during the “Turning Tables” and final chorus, when the line “I can’t give you the heart you think you gave me” comes up first in the lower voices, then adjusted to suit the upper voices when they respond. It keeps the time moving and incorporates the entire ensemble.
-Broadly speaking, a central aspect of this arrangement that I like is the fact that every line is very melodic and no one can complain of too much repetition so that one part is consistently too central or another consistently too supportive. In this way, my arrangements are more like compositions in the style of choral pieces, than transcriptions of pop songs.
Feel free to download and use this arrangement at will (although giving me credit would be rather nice), and enjoy the solo voices of the University of Puget Sound’s Underground Sound members Chynna Spencer (’14, Music) on the “Wrecking Ball” solo and my stunning co-director Lisa Hawkins (’16, Japanese) on the “Turning Tables” solo, produced by Kaylene Barber (’16, Computer Science).
Born in Estonia on September 11th, 1935, Arvo Part is a contemporary composer of sacred art music and is, according to the statistics of Bachtrack – a website that compiles statistics concerning performing arts – is now, for the third year in a row, the most performed contemporary composer in the world (further information can be found here: http://bachtrack.com/2013-stats?destination=%2F). Part is known for his minimal, meditative writing and his employment of two techniques of his own invention: tintinabulation and pandiatonicism. David E. Pinkerton II, the creator of arvopart.org – a website dedicated to the study and analysis of Part’s music – defines tintinnabulation as “the application of various inversions of a certain chord… [involving] the predominance of a single triad in one or more voices” (http://www.arvopart.org/glossary.html), and this manifests as a voice arpeggiating the notes of a ingle triad again and again despite the potential dissonance this may make with the melodies, However, for my first Technical Tuesday, it is rather the subject of Pandiatonicism that I would like to discuss.
Pinkerton defines Pandiatonicism as “a compositional technique by which a diatonic scale is adhered to but not used in a conventional manner” (http://www.arvopart.org/glossary.html), and it is with this technique that Part’s third and current period is characterized, lacking in both chromaticism and traditional harmonic function. The floating, eerie melodies he writes, so influenced by Gregorian chant and the music of the Renaissance, clash in desperately yearning manners against the continuous arpeggiations of the tonic incorporated into the non-melodic voice(s). This ultimately creates (at the very least in my opinion, and seemingly in the opinion of most others) a sense of both floating in an ocean of something sweet and sometimes harsh and always yearning, and being out of time – with no traditional harmonic function, the musical phrases have no real beginning or end, and may have just always been playing there whether you knew it or not.
I can think of few other pieces than his “Silouan’s Song” to demonstrate the eerie and formidable power of pandiatonicism. Part utilizes the leaning chords against the stepwise melodies of tintinnabulation and the unresolved dissonances that fade in and out of earshot as if passing dreams. Despite the lack of traditional harmony or even recognizable melodic motives, Part creates an identifiable repeating harmonic figure with the reoccurrence of what I believe to be an fm chord (the tonic) followed by an fm add4 add6 (feel free to correct me if you know better).
Although I am certain that a great many people will find this piece dull, I find the foreboding, almost intangible nature of Part’s writing to be delectable, as though being in the traditional safety of a tonality but lacking the traditional purpose creates a world of drifting, half remembered moments, and the dynamic contrasts that he uses in this piece in particular (quite unusual for him) create a momentary sense of urgency amid the dreamworld. In many ways – and most likely due to their shared knowledge and love of Gregorian and plainchant – his music is reminiscent to that of Debussy’s only opera “Pelleas et Melisande”, a lyric drama of two lovers separated by a jealous husband, living in a world with no arias or bright colors andalways singing something unwinding through the warm swell of the orchestra. “Silouan’s Song” acts similarly in its intention of not disturbing the world, but creating one instead.
When discussing this with my composition teacher, I personally found that the best way to avoid my strong urge to make a diatonic line functional was to make it highly melodic, but not with consideration to the counterpoint of the lines against one another. I created a motive – the opening motive in the piece below (G-A-F-D-Eb-F-D-Bb-A) – and worked on incorporating it in other voices in a variety of ways. I used diatonic transpositions of the motive – retaining the interval relationships but starting from a different pitch and altering the notes so that they all fit in the tonality – and created a doubled bass line in the cellos from mm.31-36 that was an augmented embellishment of the motives.
I also, however, found it useful to just wander through the tonality so as to color a floating world, as I did in the flutes from mm.5-10 when I wrote them lines that simply moved stepwise through G Minor, rather than having any sort of distinguishable melody. I believe that, should I ever edit and/or expand this piece, I would like to include more parts wherein I use diatonic retrogrades and inversions of the motive, as the motive and this style lend themselves so well to it. Either way, here is the piece and I hope that you enjoy it! It is entitled “Fantasia for Two Flutes and Two Cellos”, and features the talents of several of my Puget Sound peers: Whitney Revard, Flute (Flute Performance, ’15), Megan Reich, Flute (’17, Undecided), Anna Schierbeek, Cello (’16, Cello Performance), Bronwyn Haggerty, Cello (’17, Cello Performance), and Kaylene Barber, producer (’16, Computer Science).
I hope you’ve enjoyed my little rant on one of my favorite compositional techniques and please go explore both Arvo Part’s music (I highly recommend his “Berliner Messe” – particularly Mvt. XII Sanctus) and Pinkerton’s very informative website! To send you off, however, I’d like to point you to an article that the American Composer’s Forum posted on Facebook, concerning the upcoming work of the Arvo Part Project, a project dedicated to the exploration, analysis, performance and publicity of Part’s works. In particular, one line that struck me was a quote from co-director of the Arvo Part Project, Dr. Peter Bouteneff, saying that the logic of tintinabulation, acting as an extension of pandiatonicism, was that “you have the melody voice, which is the human straying, and the triad voice, which represents the divine stability and consolation”. I find this a beautiful and logical explanation for Part’s use of tintinabulation in sacred music, and a good perspective to have so as to give pandiatonicism order.
It’s happened again! I don’t know how those midnights sneak past me, but they keep doing so, and before I know it, it’s the afternoon of the next day. Alas; this post will just have to count as yesterday’s post, and since it is (once again) 2 in the morning, I’ll make this brief. Because I know that you’re dying to hear about it, I’ve devised the following schedule with regards to the subjects of my posts: Tuesdays will be Technical Tuesdays, wherein I shall discuss the history and implementation of a specific musical technique or style (i.e. parallelism, twelve-tone technique, pandiatonicism, etc) and present either a small excerpt or a full piece of mine that demonstrates said technique or style. Thursdays will be Theatrical Thursdays, wherein I shall discuss a certain excerpt from film theater (film scores) or stage theater (musical theater), and present an excerpt or a piece of mine that demonstrates some of the aspects that I like of the theater piece. Sundays will be Extraneous Sundays, a day so extraneous that no alliteration is necessary, wherein I shall discuss whatever I want, because it’s my blog and I do what I want.
For today, however, I shall just post a choral miniature I wrote for my a cappella group, Underground Sound – the University of Puget Sound’s only mixed a cappella group! – earlier this year for our Spring Concert. I wrote both the text and music, which is admittedly nontraditional – but again, my blog, and again, I do what I want. I’m quite happy with this one – I believe that it effectively uses quartal and quintal harmony so as to give the four part writing a distinctly modern flavor, without losing the underlying harmony implied by the bassline. Like “Remembered Music”, there’s an ABA ternary form at work here that I find pleasingly balanced, and there is a healthy amount of both color and dynamics used alongside the occasional rolling triplets to give this short little piece momentum. I’m also rather proud of this text- I came up with the phrase “You can hardly see the darkness, let alone the light” while describing Hawaiian fog to my father once, and up ’till now he’s been badgering me to include it in a song – and I’d like to think that the intimate, yet somehow grand text was mirrored by the delicate and almost sweeping setting, but that’s really just me showering myself in compliments.
And here, by the docks, where the city can’t sleep,
You can hardly see the darkness, let alone the light.
So here, we shall sit
Just you and me and the stars;
Stars on still water.
This quartet recording was recorded by Kaylene Barber (University of Puget Sound ’16, Coomputer Science Major), and features my voice on tenor alongside Sarah Brauner (University of Puget Sound ’16, English Major), Abby Robbins (University of Puget Sound ’14, Political Science Major) and Eric Sculac (University of Puget Sound ’15, Computer Science Major). Bless their hearts, those darling rag-a-muffins!
Thoughts? Feelings? Revelations? Please leave them in the comments below, thank you for reading until the end of this post, and goodnight once again!
A day has come and gone and, despite my initial promise to you and myself that I would post something every day, I have failed! But no matter; what better time than 2:02 AM on Sunday, May 25th to slip in a little writing? So, brief though it may be, here is my post. Below, you will find a recording of my final piece for the composition lessons I took during the fall semester of my sophomore year. It is entitled “Remembered Music”, and is a setting of a poem by the 13th century Persian Sufi poet Jalal al-Din Rumi. This recording features the talents of my marvelous peers at the University of Puget Sound’s School of Music: Lexa Hospenthal (Soprano, currently a rising junior vocal performance major), Brenda Miller (Piano, currently a rising senior piano performance major), and Kaylene Barber (producer, currently a rising junior computer science major). All three are remarkable individuals, were great fun to work with, and have my gratitude for helping me record this song.
Remembered Music
Jalal al-Din Rumi
’Tis said, the pipe and lute that charm our ears
Derive their melody from rolling spheres;
But Faith, o’erpassing speculation’s bound,
Can see what sweetens every jangled sound.
We, who are parts of Adam, heard with him
The song of angels and of seraphim.
Our memory, though dull and sad, retains
Some echo still of those unearthly strains.
Oh, music is the meat of all who love,
Music uplifts the soul to realms above.
The ashes glow, the latent fires increase:
We listen and are fed with joy and peace.
While I don’t believe that this piece is earth-shaking, I am very happy with the way that the whole piece pans out. It has a pleasingly balanced ABA ternary form, a variety of textures in the piano, and a highly melodic vocal line that demonstrates a nice palette of colors for the voice. But please, do tell me what you think! Thoughts? Feelings? Revelations? Leave your responses in the comments below and, at 2:20 AM, I bid you a goodnight!
dwolfmusic 