Showing posts with label iServalan Digitalia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label iServalan Digitalia. Show all posts

Why Serious Composers Should Not Use AI as a Creative Tool

Why Serious Composers Should Not Use AI as a Creative Tool

There is a growing pressure on composers to embrace AI as a creative partner—an insistence that resisting it is nostalgic, elitist, or fearful of progress. This framing is false. Serious composers are not rejecting technology; they are rejecting the misrepresentation of authorship.

AI may be useful in processes.
It can never be justified as a tool for creative composition.

And the difference matters.

Creation Is Not Assembly

Composition is not the act of assembling pleasing patterns.
It is the act of choosing—under constraint, risk, memory, failure, and intention.

Every meaningful composition is the result of:

  • lived experience

  • aesthetic judgement

  • physical interaction with sound

  • cultural placement

  • emotional consequence

AI possesses none of these.

It does not intend.
It does not hesitate.
It does not risk being wrong.

It predicts.

AI Is Fundamentally Unoriginal

AI systems do not create new musical language. They interpolate existing ones.

All generative music models are trained on existing human-made work, statistically analysing:

  • pitch relationships

  • rhythmic tendencies

  • harmonic probabilities

  • stylistic signatures

What emerges is not originality, but averaged familiarity.

This is not an insult—it is a technical fact.

AI cannot:

  • reject precedent

  • break a system it does not understand

  • develop a personal syntax

  • respond to silence as meaning

  • create tension through restraint

  • invent form through failure

Every “new” result is a recombination of what already exists.
Groundbreaking art, by contrast, often fails before it works.

AI never fails. It only optimises.

Emotion Cannot Be Simulated Into Existence

Music does not contain emotion.
Emotion emerges through human perception of intentional gesture.

When a composer distorts time, fractures form, or denies resolution, the listener senses a human struggle behind the sound.

AI has no inner life to encode.
No body to resist.
No fear of exposure.
No personal stake.

An AI-generated lament is not sad.
It merely resembles music that once accompanied sadness.

This distinction is not philosophical—it is perceptual. Listeners intuitively detect when music lacks human risk.

Tools Are Not the Same as Authors

There is an important and often deliberately blurred distinction here.

AI-like systems have been used in music for decades in non-creative roles, including:

  • pitch correction and tuning analysis

  • tempo detection and alignment

  • audio restoration and noise reduction

  • orchestration mock-ups

  • score layout and notation optimisation

  • spectral analysis and timbral visualisation

  • recommendation systems

  • adaptive mixing and mastering assistance

These tools operate after or around human creative decisions.

They do not decide:

  • what should exist

  • why it should exist

  • or whether it should exist at all

A DAW suggesting chord substitutions is not composing, it is assisting.
A model generating entire works might appear to be but we know otherwise.

The moment authorship is transferred, the work ceases to be composition and becomes output management.

AI Collapses Aesthetic Responsibility

Serious composers are accountable to:

  • their influences

  • their audience

  • their tradition

  • their ethical stance

  • their own failures

AI assumes no responsibility.

When a work is hollow, clichéd, or ethically compromised, the composer cannot point to a model and claim authorship with integrity. Delegating creative decision-making also delegates aesthetic courage.

Groundbreaking music has always required the willingness to:

  • sound wrong

  • offend taste

  • fail publicly

  • work in isolation

  • resist efficiency

AI is built to remove exactly these pressures.

Innovation Comes From Limits, Not Scale

Human composers work within constraints:

  • physical ability

  • time

  • memory

  • training

  • culture

  • personal obsession

These limits shape voice.

AI has no limits—only scale.
Scale does not produce insight.
It produces saturation.

The result is a vast increase in musical noise, not musical meaning.

The Cost Is Cultural, Not Technical

When AI-generated music is normalised as composition, several things happen:

  • originality becomes stylistic mimicry

  • voice becomes optional

  • authorship becomes obscured

  • excellence becomes statistical

  • risk becomes inefficient

This does not democratise music.
It devalues it.

True accessibility comes from education, time, patience, and mentorship, not from bypassing the act of learning to listen and choose.

Conclusion: Process Is Not Creation

Serious composers should not reject AI out of fear.
They should reject it out of clarity.

AI may assist:

  • workflow

  • analysis

  • preparation

  • translation between systems

It must never be allowed to replace:

  • intention

  • judgement

  • risk

  • failure

  • authorship

Because music is not the generation of sound.

It is the human act of meaning-making under pressure.

And no machine—however advanced—can do that on your behalf.

Before the First Note is Played | iServalan™ | Continuum Approach

 Before the First Note: Why We Begin With Understanding, Not Instruction

Every serious learning journey has a beginning point.
Not a timetable.
Not a method book.
Not a demand.

A beginning.

The Continuum Approach begins before sound.

Before scales, before reading, before technique — we begin with relationship.

Because no instrument is neutral.

An instrument is a body.
It has weight, shape, resistance, temperament.
It occupies space.
It asks something of the person who meets it.

To place a child — or an adult — in front of an instrument without context, without consent, without curiosity, is not education.
It is exposure without orientation.

And exposure without orientation breeds doubt.


The First Arc: Encounter and Bond

The earliest stage of learning is not playing.
It is meeting.

We strongly recommend that learners — especially children — encounter as many instruments as possible before choosing one.

This may mean:

  • Seeing them

  • Touching them

  • Hearing them played live

  • Feeling their scale and physical presence

  • Sensing how the sound moves through the room and the body

This process need not be formal.
It need not be long.
It simply needs to be real.

A child should never be handed an instrument chosen for them without their inclusion.
Choice made in isolation — by timetable, convenience, or availability — often creates resistance long before learning begins.

Adults, by nature, are autonomous.
Yet even here, the same principle holds.

Trying, listening, observing, and experiencing instruments allows an initial bond — or spark — to emerge.
Sometimes quickly.
Sometimes unexpectedly.

This is not indecision.
It is orientation.


Listening as a Constant

At this stage, listening becomes paramount.

Not analytical listening.
Not technical listening.

But simple, embodied listening.

How does the instrument sound?
How does it feel when played by another?
What kind of music seems to belong to it?
What emotional temperature does it carry?

Listening does not end when playing begins.
It remains a constant throughout the entire continuum of learning.

Before reading.
Before technique.
Before self-judgement.


Familiarity Before Instruction

Before the first deliberate sound is made by the learner, there must be familiarity.

With:

  • The shape of the instrument

  • How it rests in space

  • How the body relates to it

  • Where tension might arise

  • Where ease might live

This might take:

  • A full lesson

  • Five minutes at the beginning of each session

  • Or it may already be present when a student arrives

There is no fixed duration.

The only requirement is this:
doubt and fear must be abolished before instruction begins.

Not managed.
Not negotiated.

Abolished.


Oneness Before Noise

We do not begin with noise.
We do not begin with music.

We begin with oneness.

The feeling that:

  • the instrument is not an adversary

  • the body is not being judged

  • sound is not yet a test

Only when this relationship is established does playing make sense.

Only then does reading music have somewhere to land.

Only then does discipline become possible without strain.


What Comes Next

Once this arc is complete — once familiarity, listening, and bond are present — the next arc may begin.

Reading.
Structure.
Sound-making.
Music.

But never before.

Because technique built on fear collapses.
And instruction without relationship does not endure.

The prospect of losing faith becomes the most likely scenario.

This is not a delay.
It is a foundation.

And it is where all relaxed, sustainable learning truly begins.